Fictional Character One-Shots And Shorts

"Azkaban" (NM X Reader Smut)

We had been locked in this shit hole together for nearly a month now, both forgotten and left to rot by society itself. I had another 12 years to look forward to. Her, more like 25. That's what you get when you're part of the Dark Lord's inner circle, putting your faith in an orphaned brat consumed with mommy and daddy issues.

I sighed as my eyes glazed over and I stared out into the dark hallway, leaning my skeletal frame against a damp, mildew smelling stone wall. The overcrowding of the prison caused by the disbandment of the death eaters after Voldemort's demise gave the majority of us cell mates but that still didn't do much to quell the existential loneliness that worked its way through my entire being much like a parasite.

I had been paired with Narcissa Malfoy, wife of Lucius Malfoy, neither of which I'd met more than a handful of times. Some would say we'd gotten lucky with just the two of us in this cell, others being crammed in like a can of sardines. However, she wasn't much company. Narcissa mostly kept silent, sitting against the wall closer to the cell bars and staring into space just as I did. We didn't speak much, mostly just throwing insults back and forth to the group of men in the cell across from ours.

They liked to admire the other witch in the way touch deprived, frustrated men always did. I found it quite disgusting but Narcissa allowed it to roll over her unabashed, listening to the jabs but never taking the bait. Some of what they said was enough to elicit yet another charge to their triple life sentences but they were smart enough to keep quiet when the guards or dementors were around to hear.

We spent 24/7 within these dank dungeon walls, fantasizing about life outside and slowly losing our minds. We did not interact with anyone outside of our own cells or the one across from us, males and females segregated to avoid any accidents or allowing any of us a single moment of pleasure.

The men across from us had no problem satiating their own needs, normally trying to catch Narcissa's or even my own eye as they rubbed one out. I was a little too uncomfortable with their watchful eyes to do the same, even after everyone was asleep, and I had no clue about my cell mate although she didn't seem the type to fall prey to her body's lustful desires.

The hours ticked by as I listened to the harsh waves crashing against the rocks below, shaking the old building with every powerful thrust of the angry water. My eyes glazed over as I lost myself to my thoughts, dissociating from my horrid reality the only hope I had of keeping at least a portion of my sanity these coming years.

Night had fallen a short while ago, bathing us in a lonely sort of darkness. The only light came from a few scattered oil lamps hanging in the damp hallways to allow the guards to check up on us during the night, the eerie light causing strange shadows to dance around the ghostly prison.

We were all alone with our thoughts until the sunrise came and with it, our meager seconds of human interaction as the guards wheeled trollies of gray slop down every aisle of the prison, a few of the friendlier ones actually attempting to make conversation with us as they dished up "breakfast". However, those moments were few and far between, and always we were left alone in these despairing, silent cells once more.

I had settled in for the night, getting as comfortable as I could get with my bruised bones rubbing against the unforgiving stone walls and floor. My vision was fuzzy as I allowed my eyes to unfocus, but I could still see the shuffling, fidgety movements of my cell mate out of my peripheral.

She wasn't normally one to fidget, preferring to sit there unmoving much like a Da Vinci sculpture, much like myself. However, I couldn't help but catch the minute movements as she shifted her legs around, fingers fiddling with the hem of the old, ratty prison shirt we were issued.

My gaze shifted to focus on her, watching as her thighs rubbed together ever so subtly, the way her delicate fingers gently tugged at the waistband of her baggy, striped pants, dragging the crotch upwards. Her face was still completely neutral, her normal deadpan, icy facade in place as deep brown eyes stared lazily at the wall in front of her.