Collection of One-Shots

》digression

Korath entered the main chamber of the Dark Aster and found Ronan meditating in the middle of open space before the chair in which he claimed his sovereignty. "There is something you should see." The chrysalis was amber and diamond, the Terrigen Mist had long dissipated, and now within it lay a woman, a Terran woman. Ronan laid his hand over the crystal's surface, realizing now what truly lay inside, "an inhuman."

"What should we do, Master?" Korath questioned, unsure what use a Terran would be. The Accuser offered no answer, he only raised his hand and brought it down upon the crystalline sarcophagus. It cracked under his strength and within another strike, it shattered. The woman opened her eyes and shot up, breathing heavily, and panicked.

She glanced around the dim and dark surroundings and finally settled on the man that stood at her side. "Who are you?" she asked, but then her gaze was drawn upwards and at the sight of blue skin moved backward, afraid. "What are you?" Ronan stood steadfast and unblinking, his eyes burning into the Dark Aster's newest resident. The swell of emotions that bubbled within made her uncomfortable and it concentrated within the palms of her hands as glowing energy. "What happened to me?" The question had clearly been directed to herself but Ronan crouched down before her, seeing the possibilities of such a beautiful mutation.

"I can teach you," he said with no hesitation on the matter, "train you." That had been the original plan, but then pesky little feelings got in the way. Clara woke from the resurfaced memory, propped her chin up on Ronan's chest and slowly opened her eyes to adjust to the light that flooded through the seeing panes from the closest star. His arm tightened around her waist on impulse and instinct and then he began stroking her bare back, running his fingertips up and down her spine. "What?" He grumbled, not keen on the way his Terran was looking at him.

"I had a dream about you," her voice was hardly above a whisper, the Kree Accuser raised one of his brows and she continued, "About when we met." A faint smile stretched across her lips. Ronan did not know what to say, so he kissed her instead. Cradling the nape of her neck with one massive hand and with the other pressing her to him, spreading fingers across her lower back, against the brittle delicacy of her shoulder blades, at the curve of her spine where the force of his hand pulled her up onto him and spilled her breasts across his chest. She made a soft sound of startlement and pleasure. He stayed still underneath her and just watched her face. Her eyes were closed and she was biting her lip, anticipating it, needing it just as much as he did, maybe even more.

"What have you done to me, woman?" He reached to trace his fingers along her arms and shoulders, across the gentle slope of her collarbones, the bend of her neck. He lifted her chin to have her look at him, cupping her face in his hands, pushing back the drape of her streaming hair. Then he switched their positions, so she was beneath him and he was between her legs.

In the ways of his people, intimacy was limited to the peak of reproducing for the sole purpose of the Kree armies. Never was there an emotion such as love, admiration or what was pulsing his every vein down to his cock, lust. He turned, reaching underneath her as he pulled her hips up from the bed. Ronan felt his eyes move to the back of his head as he inhaled Clara's scent. He blindly darted his tongue forward and tasted her, enjoying the simple delicacy of her as he moaned, nibbling on her lips, feeling her delicate skin to his.

She moaned as he pinned her open legs wide over his shoulders to feast upon her. Never had he tasted anything as sweet and decadent as her as he moaned into her cunt. Clara's hand shot for his head. She propped herself up, rocking her hips to his tongue and feeling him growl into her skin as he moved back up to her clit. He refused to slow for her benefit as he pushed his two fingers into her to feel her walls tighten around him.

He wrapped his arms around Clara, staying between her legs as he lifted from the bed and pushed her roughly to the head board while Clara clung to him and the wood behind her. Ronan gave her clit one final sharp suck as he pulled himself away, letting his long, blue fingers continue to fuck her.

"Fuck," she cursed, and at the obscenity, Ronan pressed his lips to Clara's. His whole body pressed against hers, trapping her as he worked his fingers faster. She could taste only the faintest hints of herself on his lips.

At first, it was too much for her, feeling him pressed against her as he made her scream but over time, she got used to Ronan constantly touching her whether he was fucking her or refusing to let her go anywhere without him. Sometimes, she would wake and find his arms wrapped almost too tightly around her body, refusing to let her go, even when he slept. She learned to deal with it.

Ronan waited until the perfect moment as he pulled his fingers away and licked at her wetness. His eyes rolled back from the taste, neglecting Clara for the moment as he focused and thrust into her. She gasped for breath, digging her nails into his neck as he smiled to her submission, though his smile faded when she broke his through his thick skin and drew blood for the first time.

She gasped, spreading her legs wider for him, giving him room to maneuver how he liked. One hand grasped at the soft sheets beneath her, the other arm was around Ronan, the flat of her palm pressed between his shoulder blades. "Ohh... Ronan..." she crooned his name, turning her face so that it was tucked into the crook of his neck, lips seeking out his pulse point to kiss it gently. Without conscious effort on her part, her hips rocked up against his.

Time was suspended as Ronan shuddered for a moment from her warmth. Clara gasped, fingers seeking purchase on his shoulders and back. Her breath came in startled gasps as she tried to make sense of it; a strange, tremulous tingling beginning in her heart that moved throughout her body like a crashing wave, but there was no stopping it and from her, it flowed over Ronan.

The Kree warlord hung his head and kept his weight off of Clara with shaking forearms. She pushed herself up, found his lips with her own, and pulled him down to rest atop her. Over the course of their time together, she had grown accustomed to his weight, and at times found comfort in it. He rested his head upon her breast, listening to the beat of her heart as it soon found a normal pace again. Clara tried to hold him, but it was folly, he was much larger than her. Instead, the Accuser rolled over, pulling her with him and tucked her petite frame into his chest. Ronan cursed her and himself but knew there was no going back. He would destroy galaxies for her and she knew that.

︽︽︽

"Ronan," she looked up from the cup of dark wine, "What does Thanos want with me?" His dark eyes widened, brows furrowed, and mood soured almost instantly. Clara glanced down at her hands and frowned, realizing that she had overstepped the bounds of their relationship, if it could be called such. "I'm sorry," she stuttered, suddenly afraid, "I overheard in the hall with Korath."

He stood, abruptly, and began to pace with his hands clenched into tight fists. He hated the weakness that he had for her, it was infuriating the way she made him feel. Thanos had been right, but he would not risk losing her, not now, not ever. Clara bit down on her bottom lip hard and ignored the tinge of blood that tickled her tongue. Ronan was a man who commanded respect and fear, only a fool would not fear the Accuser.

Clara was that fool. At first, she had feared him, but now, there was no reason to. She stood and stepped into his path. Ronan's hands were rough, and warm against her cheek and neck, his touch delicate. Or perhaps she had just grown accustomed to his roughness. "I will not let him have you," his tone was a vow, "as long as I breathe Thanos will never have you."

"Is this why you wanted to send me back to Terra?" Clara asked, her hands resting atop his. The silence answered her question.

She pushed herself up to the tips of her toes and leaned forward. Her kiss was cautious and reticent, too timid for an accomplished warrior or someone of her power. But this tenderness was foreign until now she had dared not show this side to him. Ronan pushed back, but for the first time, he was not entirely ungentle. He grasped onto her waist and pulled her up to him. "I'll go back to Terra if you truly want that," Clara breathed and his burning cyan eyes softened.

"I'll come for you," Ronan spoke against her lips in a hushed voice and she believed him, there was no reason for her not to.

A/N: Aye, I finally got around to finishing up this Ronan fic that I started a year ago and ya girl is back into the smut business. Hope you all enjoyed it!  Don't forget to vote and comment!