Dark - Ron/Marcus - NC-17
Title: Dark
Author: shocfix
Pairing: Ron/Marcus
Words: 579
Rating: NC-17

Written for 50_smutlets, where I claimed Ron Weasley.

So, basically, it’ll be another 50 Ron!smutlets.

But not with his Harry.


Dark
****
The door opened and a cloaked figure with its hood pulled up over its head and shadowing its face strode into the cellar.

Susan shrank closer against Ron, but the figure kicked her away and grabbed his wrist, jerking him to his feet.

“Ron?” Susan said.

“It’s OK,” he said, stumbling after his captor as he was dragged to the door. “I’ll be back soon.”

It was the first time he’d been taken from the cellar since being used as a potion ingredient, and that memory wasn’t exactly a warming one.

But he wasn’t taken to Snape, or Bellatrix, or even Lucius – he was thrown into another cellar, this one actually containing barrels, and the door slammed behind them.

“What d’you want?” Ron asked.

“Do you know why I took the Dark Mark?” a voice demanded.

“I don’t even know who you are,” Ron said.

“It was because of you.”

“I don’t even know who the fuck you are,” Ron spat.

“There was Draco,” the voice went on. “Tiny little chap, good Pureblood family, do anything to get on in the world.”

“Yeah, lovely bloke.”

“And then there was you,” the voice murmured. “As Pureblooded as anyone, and humiliating yourself defending a Mudblood.”

“What?” Ron asked. “When? Who are you?”

“That’s when I knew the Dark Lord was right. I knew we had to stop you Muggle loving fools from polluting the Wizarding World.”

He dramatically threw back his hood and Ron rolled his eyes.

“Flint?” he said. “Does Bellatrix know a baby Death Eater is bothering her prisoners?”

“I don’t answer to Bellatrix,” Flint spat. “I’m as much a Death Eater as she is.”

“Does she know that?” Ron asked, leaning back against a barrel and folding his arms.

“You think she’d protect you?” Flint hissed, striding across the room and looming over the younger man. “You think she’ll stop anyone from touching her pretty boy?”

“No, I…”

“You think you can stop me?” Flint whispered, his mouth and his wand pressed against Ron’s throat.

“You don’t want me,” Ron said, as calmly as possible.

“The Chosen One’s boyfriend?” Flint murmured, licking Ron’s neck and dropping his free hand to unzip his jeans. “Who wouldn’t want to fuck the Chosen One’s boyfriend over a barrel?”

Ron swallowed.

“I’m not Harry’s boyfriend,” he said nervously. “I don’t know where you lot have got that idea from.”

“The two of you have always been in each others’ pockets,” Flint scoffed, parting his robes and revealing a limp cock in a nest of dark curls. “It’s disgusting.”

“You left school in my, what, second year? Third? You don’t know anything about me and Harry.”

Flint ignored him, freeing Ron’s completely disinterested penis and grinding against him, grunting and huffing and trying to stroke himself to an elusive erection.

“He won’t want you back,” Flint gasped, wrapping a hand round both cocks, tugging on them and whimpering against Ron’s neck. “Not now, not when you’ve… when I’ve… fuck!”

He took a step back and glared at Ron, furiously. “What’s wrong with you?” he spat.

Ron raised his eyebrows as he tucked his cock away. “Me?” he said. “What wrong with me? I’m sexy enough for the Chosen One! What’s wrong with you?”

With a bellow of rage, Flint backhanded Ron across the face.

“We’ll see what your Chosen One thinks of you when he sees what the Dark Lord has in store for you, shall we?” he sneered, laughing as Ron paled.


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