cat

WARNINGS. vaginal fingering, vaginal sex. 18+, handjob, cream pie. degradation. green lantern!reader. ©sector1416.

❥──── The life of a Green Lantern is a lonely one.

This is something you understand deeply. You left your planet, you left your family, you left everything that you've ever known, all in the name of a purpose greater than yourself. Even surrounded by people in the exact same situation as you, the loneliness of that burden sometimes feels crushing.

A part of you knows you could always tumble into Warriors, sit yourself down on a bar stool, and drink up the friendly atmosphere of your fellow Corpsmen, but something keeps you hanging around your own quarters.

Maybe it's the chronic loneliness, or maybe it's the buzzing you always get under your skin after somebody sends in a report of Sinestro being in the sectors surrounding Oa. A wiser Lantern than you might try to avoid the renegade, but you . . .

Well, you're standing on your balcony like you know someone's coming to cure that debilitating loneliness you've inflicted upon yourself.

You've never been quite sure how he manages to bypass all the security of Oa. A part of you knows that this is something critically important, a threat to every Lantern you surround yourself with, but that part is drowned out by the flush of your cheeks as you see a glowing yellow ember get closer and closer to you.

He hovers close outside your window, his arms crossed over the Sinestro Corps insignia on his chest.

" I did expect a warmer welcome", he says, words practically dripping with controlled sarcasm. "Perhaps a hero's parade, confetti—something befitting a man of my stature. Instead, I'm met with silence and that unconvincing glare of yours."

"Be grateful I didn't meet you with my fists, Sinestro", you snarl back at him. "You showing up uninvited tends to end in chaos."

He grins, the sharpness of his teeth illuminated by his eyes glowing yellow in the darkness. "Should I feel flattered that you seem so on edge around me?"

You glare at him, rising to the bait, even as you step out onto the balcony and closer to him. "I'm not on edge, I just know better than to take your 'personal visits' at face value. What do you want this time?"

He floats a little closer, smug demeanor in place even as his voice softens. It's just a little, the type of change that nobody else would notice, but you latch onto it with your usual brutality.

"Must I always want something?" Sinestro asks, moving ever closer until he's fully invaded your personal space. His hand falls upon your cheek, and you try not to let him see the way your breath hitches at the sensation of his calloused fingertips against your bare skin. "Perhaps I simply wished to see you."

"It's never that simple with you."

His thumb brushes against your lower lip. "You needn't complicate things, my dear."

And isn't that the sweetest little lie he could tell? It's all already complicated, a tangled mess that you don't dare to unravel, too afraid of facing the consequences of your own actions. This little life could come tumbling down with the slightest shove, and he's had you up on that cliff for so long now.

"Just get inside", you grumble, "before somebody sees you."

"So concerned", he tuts. "As if the pathetic batch of recruits the Guardians have scavenged could ever be a threat to me."

"They're not the ones I'm worried about", you mutter, turning away from and moving back inside your quarters and away from any potentially prying eyes. The last thing you need is any of this to get back to the other Green Lanterns.

You don't bother turning around to see if he's followed you. Whatever this thing between you may be, it always resulted in him tracking you down with only one thing on his mind — on your mind, usually, too.

Tonight's no exception. You can feel it humming in the air around, biting into your flesh, liquid heat already pooling between your legs.

Sitting on the kitchen counter, you don't bother to hide your scowl. "Did you really come all this way just to be a nuisance, Sinestro?"

"No, my dear", he replies, far too playful for your liking. "I'm simply ensuring that you don't miss me."

You roll your eyes, not fully capable of hiding the small smile that crept up on you while he distracted you. "You're giving yourself far too much credit."

He moves closer, his hands falling around either side of your waist and trapping you against the counter. Sinestro towers above you with a practiced ease, shutting out the rest of the universe until it's just the two of you.

"And you're giving me far too much of your attention", he says, leaning into you. "You see? We're both predictable."

Maybe someone with more willpower would shove him away, but instead you delight in how his palms settle on her hips. His fingers splay across the divet of your hip, and you barely manage to stop yourself from immediately willing your uniform away. As good as his featherlight touch feels against the fabric, you know it's better against your bare skin.

His lips, hotter than the coals of hell, fall upon your neck, every breath an agonising tease. Everything about him, every last damned detail, it's all so —

So incredibly dangerous, and the others are so close by, and no matter how much you think that the other Green Lanterns have slowly started to accept you, finding you in this compromising of a position would surely lead to an instant termination and dismissal from the Corps, so easily the worst decision you could ever make, so impossible to make any other choice.

Razor-sharp teeth nip at the nape of your neck, and all thoughts of logic and reason and consequence go flying out the window, suddenly lacking their previous urgency, replaced by a different kind of desperation.

"You're such an asshole", you hiss out, your fingers already making their way to his hair. Digits tangle through the locks, intentionally messing up their strict perfection, determined to leave a mark of your own. All you want is some kind of sign that this ruination is mutual.

His laugh is breathless against your throat, a slight reprieve from the teeth sinking in enough to draw blood before he renews his assault.

You lift his chin, ignoring the way he scowls at you for the action, and lean in. The kiss is rough, brutal, with no room for forgiveness — the only way either of you could ever be comfortable with it.

He matches it with equal intensity, his hand raising from your hip to rest on your throat. Not quite squeezing you, not choking you with ease, just letting you know that he could.

You can't help the whimper it pulls from the back of your throat, nor the moan that follows the grinding of his hips against yours.

He nips at your bottom lip. "Careful, dear. You wouldn't want the others to hear you."

As if you could ever forget the precarious nature of your situation. You roll your hips forward, pulling slightly at his hair. "Shut up."

He lets out a huff of fake irritation, even as his hand slips between your legs with a practiced ease. There's none of the fumbling from the first he'd taken you, none of the awkwardness from the second or third tryst — by now, you're both confident in your actions.

Sinestro leans in even closer, close enough that his lips rest just before yours, and before you can even entertain the idea of meeting them, he lurches forward, his teeth sinking into your lower lip faster than you can even form a thought. It takes less than a second for his teeth to tear your lip open, the taste of blood spilling into your mouth.

Your uniform slips away with a single thought, leaving you naked on her countertop. His breath hitches as he takes in the sight, those yellow eyes darkening in the dim light. You rock yourself against him again, no clothes left to disguise how wet you are, and the grip on your throat tightens minutely.

Touch has always been your preferred form of communication, and ever since you began this series of mistakes, Sinestro has become adept at translating everything you can't — or won't — put into words.

You don't need to tell him what to do, you never have. He gets the message immediately with one finger slipping inside your waiting cunt, making a wanton moan spill from your lips, so close to being followed by a second, louder one when the hand on your throat changes its position to clamp down on your mouth.

"Must I do everything for you?" He hisses with no real venom — or if it is there, you're blind to it, too enchanted by his long, thick finger stretching out her aching pussy to care. Your moans are stifled behind his hand as he sinks another finger into you.

A part of you is grateful for the palm over your mouth. It must be the only thing blocking the truly pathetic way you whimpers for him. It would be an embarrassment if the universe could hear the noise you let out when his thumb brushes against your clit.

"So desperate", he breathes out. It'd be an admonishment if it weren't for the slightest tremble in his voice.

He likes putting you in this position as much as you like being put in it. 

Five fingers over your mouth, the others playing with her dripping cunt... he has no right to let out a surprised moan when your hand slips beneath the waistband of his uniform. He catches his bottom lip between his teeth, refusing to make any more pretty sounds for you, and it just spurs you further.

It's become a game, this ongoing catastrophe that they share, and you've never been above cheating* to win.

Your palm wraps around his cock as you ride his fingers, pushing his digits further inside you as you make eye contact with him. His gaze — sharp, wild, the only sign he's not as in control as he'd like to be — meets yours, those yellow pupils boring into your. There's no mistaking the perfect storm of hatred and lust that you're surely reflecting back at him.

You move your wrist with a type of patience she usually reserves for galaxy-destroying events. Everything is calculated, poised, designed to push him as far as he's pushing you. 

It earns you a third finger. You moan against his palm, tongue tasting the sweat on his skin, every sound repressed by him. It's utterly humiliating how he reduces you to this with such ease, like it's a second nature to him. His thumb flicks at your clit, and you can feel the sound you make vibrate through his hand.

"Quiet", he snarls at the volume of the moan he wretches from you. "You wouldn't want the Corps to know how needy you are, hm?"

You rut yourself further against his fingers, eyes going glassy. The center of his attention is such a dangerous place to be, but it's where you have learned to thrive, those yellow eyes locked onto her like you're the only thing worth paying attention to in the entire galaxy. Dazzling stars, sprawling planets, ancient wonders — he looks like he'd let it all pass him by, just to keep his eyes on you.

His hand drops from your mouth and back to your throat, squeezing it while soft gasps escape your parted lips.

"You need to learn to listen", he says, voice low and as ruined as you feel. "Clearly, nobody is teaching you obedience."

"Need you", you rasp as his fingers curl inside you perfectly.

"You haven't earned me", he replies smugly.

Your hand picks up the pace on his cock as you whine in his ear, "Don't be an asshole..."

And you tilt your head backwards, away from his ear and towards his mouth. To your surprise, he not only lets you, but he kisses you back, hand rising from your throat to thread itself in your hair and pull you tight against him.

Were it not for the counter supporting you, you're sure your knees would've given out by now, all strength and willpower depleted. There's only the electric touch of his fingers inside you and his lips against your own. The universe expands for a moment and contracts to just you, just this moment.

His hand leaves your hair with a sharp tug and settles to its favored spot around your throat. The pressure he applies is gentle, a warning sign.

"You'd let me do anything to you, wouldn't you?"

You nod before you can help yourself. There's no room for logic between the two of you — with the intensity that he kisses you, there's barely any room for air.

"Good girl", he murmurs against your lips, and your cunt clenches down on his fingers. Your spare hand grips his shoulder for support as rivets of pleasure rush through you, your peak edging closer and closer.

"Please", you whisper against his ear, your head lolling against his shoulders as his fingers push you towards a devastating climax. "Want you. Need you."

"You're going to have to be more specific, my dear", he says, just to be an asshole, just to annoy you.

The best response you can muster is quickening your handjob and letting your nails sink into the skin of his shoulderblade. It grants a grunt, a hissed curse in Korugian that your ring doesn't bother to translate, and him pushing your body back against the counter.

The action fully removes his hands from your body, and you can't help the pathetic whine the loss brings about.

He drinks in the sight of you, and you can only imagine how you look; uniform half dissolved, cunt leaking, skin flushed, and eyes fixated on him, always, always on him.

He moves towards you, a coiled snake striking out for the kill, and you let him. There's no hesitation, no moment where you second-guess your terrible life choices — the instant he's on you, you're kissing him back and lacing your fingers in his hair.

"Please", you gasp.

He steps back, his uniform dissolving around the waist. "Turn around," he commands, his voice firm. "Hands on the table." You hesitate for a moment, but ultimately comply, turning and placing your hands on the table as instructed. You look over your shoulder at him, eyes wide with anticipation.

He's going to drive you insane. He grinds against you, his clothed erection rubbing against your dripping slit, and you mewl into his arm. All you're able to do is beg, "Please, Sinestro... Please..."

Sinestro smirks at your desperate plea, his hands moving to grip your ass tightly, pulling you flush against him. He grinds against you, his voice a low growl in your ear. "Please, what, my dear?" he taunts, his breath hot on your neck. "Tell me what you want."

A low, throaty moan spills from your parted lips as he grinds against you. Your fingers dig into his forearm, desperately clinging to him for purchase. His voice runs down your spine like a shiver, making you whimper. "Please..." It's the only word you can get out, too desperate for anything else.

"Use your words", he says, demanding the impossible from you.

Your throat seems closed up, incapable of a single word, leaving you utterly incapable of communicating her want — well, mostly incapable. You've always been inventive.

You grab his hand and bring it to your cunt, placing his fingers against your dripping slit, letting him know how much you want him.

"Just fuck me", you plead.

Hair disheveled at your hands, pupils wide with lust, he groans at the feeling of your wet cunt, at the desperation in your voice.

"So well behaved", he murmurs against your ear, hand dropping between the two of you to position his cunt at your eager entrance. "Such a perfect whore."

The tip of his cock brushes against your clit, and you collapse against the counter, stabilizing yourself with your palms. "C'mon then. Fuck me like a whore."

Sharp nails dig into your hips as he bites down on your neck hard enough to draw blood. Slowly, he begins to sink his cock into you, the delicious stretch of your cunt sending your eyes rolling to the back of your head.

"Oh, god, yes", you moan against him. "Fuck, Sinestro..."

Another inch sinks into you, your breath hitching as his hands grip your ass.

"Good girl", he praises, fingers pulling you up by your hair and arching your back against him. "This is what you deserve. What you need."

"Y-yes", you agree with a broken moan, pushing your ass against him with every thrust.

"What a perfect whore", he murmurs, teeth sinking into your shoulder blade. "Taking it so well."

When his hand goes from your ass and towards your clit, it begins to feel like all you were made to do was take his cock, to let him bend you in any position he likes, and fuck your brains out. You doubt you'd have a single complaint if that's what he chose to do.

"I should take you from here", he grunts. "Keep you on Ranx for me to fuck."

You let out a desperate whine, mind full of the image of being his kept little pet, eager to be in his bed at all times.

"That's what I like to hear", he groans between mind-numbingly hard thrusts into your aching pussy. "A broken slut that loves her master's cock."

You whimper, brows knitting together. His thumb rubs devastating circles against your clit as your cunt clenches on his cock, high-pitched little whines slipping out of your parted lips.

There's a churning in your core, the heat that's been rising since you felt him enter Oa's atmosphere reaching a fever pitch, intensifying every time his hips hit against your ass. He's quiet, laser-focused on ruining you, the only sound the squelching of your soaked cunt and the pathetic moans he's ripping from your throat.

Any concern you'd had about other Lanterns hearing you is thrown out the window. Who cares if they hear you — so long as Sinestro never stops fucking you, you don't care about anything.

You arch back into him, hips quivering as his thrusts begin to pick up in speed. You squeal, a pathetic and whiny noise that's swallowed up by his hand clamping down again on your mouth. There's another bite down on the back of your neck, right at the crux between your shoulder and your throat, and you can hear how ragged his breath is becoming as he chases his own orgasm.

He slams into your cunt, using your body to fuck his way into bliss, and a perfectly timed flick of your clit sets off along the way, your pussy squeezing down on his cock as your climax rips its way through your body.

All you can let out is high, meaning whine as he continues to slam into your pussy.

"We're not done yet", he murmurs against your bare skin, hand slowly dropping from your mouth to settle on your throat.

"P-please . . ."

He nips at your skin, drawing more blood. "You can keep going. My good girl, you'd let me do anything to you, wouldn't you?"

Tears sting in your eyes as he fucks your overstimulated cunt with a violent passion, but there's no denying his words. So long as he makes you feel this good, there really isn't anything you wouldn't do for him.

Damn the consequences, and damn the Guardians too — all that matters to you is the feeling of his cock twitching inside your pussy, the only real warning you get before he slams into the hilt, keeping his cock buried deep in your cunt.

"Mine", he hisses, finger abusing your clit as you feel him cumming deep inside me. "All mine."

"Yes", you all but sob, legs twitching as your body wracks with pleasure. "Y-yours, only ever yours."

He holds you against him, your back against his chest, able to feel his quickened breath as he comes down from his high. With one last flick, his fingers drop away from your swollen clit, and settle on the side of your hip.

WARNINGS. sinestro is an asshole. 18+, slight authority kink && power imblance. vaginal sex, face fucking. oral f!receiving, oral m!receiving, cream pie. degradation. green lantern!reader, trainee!reader. ©sector1416.

❥────

"Focus."

The word is hissed out between Sinestro's teeth as more and more of his cock sinks into your throat. Your ring makes a pathetic attempt, flashing a dim green sporadically, but the glassy look in your eyes and the drool pooling around the edges of your mouth give away how little concentration you're affording your ring.

Sinestro's disappointed scoff still manages to do things to you. Halfway between causing your pussy to clench and your heart to drop, you're not sure if you should suck down harder or pull your head back and apologise for disappointing him.

He makes the choice for you, slamming his dick fully down your throat and letting you choke on it. Your spluttered little whines seem to please him more than your attempts at being a Green Lantern ever have, and you hate how wet that makes you.

"Oh, c'mon, Sin, go easy on her", Hal's voice groans. "It's not her fault she's such a desperate slut."

Whatever noise of protest you had bubbling in the back of your throat fades away as his finger flicks at your clit.

You're not sure how you ended up in this position, but you're positive that this isn't what the Guardians meant when they said the two senior Lanterns would be showing you the ropes 𝄖 not that you're complaining. You're too busy getting tag-teamed by the greatest Green Lanterns the universe has ever seen to bother with that.

Little black spots cloud your vision as Sinestro keeps himself buried balls deep in your throat, and you can't bring yourself to care, not with the way Hal laps at your cunt, desperately devouring your pussy. The lack of oxygen only enhances the pleasure you're feeling, making you strain against the green bonds holding you in place, doing all you can to grind against the face between your thighs.

Sinestro's hand in your hair brings you crashing back to reality. He tugs at the locks harshly, pulling your mouth from his cock and resting the tip against your lips. You stare at him, pupils dilated, a soft whimper spilling against his tip as Hal's tongue flicks at your clit.

The sneer on his face is unmistakable. It's something you know so well, so intimately, from the dozens of brutal training sessions he's subjected you to.

Another moan escapes your parted lips, followed by a whine as Hal pulls away from your aching cunt. Despite yourself, you try desperately to grind down against him.

"Please", you whimper. Your tongue licks at Sinestro's offered cock.

"Pathetic."

"I was gonna say it's hot", Hal says, planting gentle kisses along your spine as he snakes his way up your body.

"You've always been easily impressed, Jordan."

Hal huffs out a laugh, his left hand coming round to palm your breast. "Yeah. And you're clearly hating the show."

You grind your ass against Hal's crotch, desperate for the slightest bit of friction, the slightest bit of anything to lessen the smouldering heat between your thighs. Your efforts are rewarded with a groan and a roll of his hips against, almost enough, but never quite giving you what you need.

And Guardians know, you should be ashamed of yourself right now, but the only thing you can focus on is the two men toying with your body.

"I'd hate to waste you on your knees", Sinestro says, slowly pushing his cock back into your mouth.

Your tongue swirls over his tip, looking up at him for approval. Even just a sliver of it...

It's there in his slight hum, there in the way his hands come down to grip at your hair as you take him in your mouth.

"You're doing so good, baby", Hal murmurs in your ear, sending sparks straight down to your core. "So, so good for us..."

Sinestro grunts, head tilted back ever so slightly. You sink your head lower, encouraged by Hal's praise and the hardness of him pressed against you, and begin to bob your head.

He groans, fingers scratching against your scalp, hand guiding your movements, never allowing you an ounce of control. One of your hands drops down to your pulsing clit before you can help yourself, and you almost cry against Sinestro's cock when Hal grabs your wrist and yanks it back.

"I don't remember either of us giving you permission to touch yourself", he tuts, voice dropping an octave. "What happened to my good girl, huh?"

You splutter around Sinestro's cock, almost desperate to tell Hal that you can be good for them, you can be anything for them, but the words come out garbled as Sinestro pushes his cock in deeper, until it's halfway down your throat, and your nose is pressed against his pelvis. Your attempts to focus on breathing feel secondary to the overwhelming sensation of being pressed between Hal and Sinestro.

Tears well in her eyes, the tip of his twitching against your throat.

"I think we're gonna have to teach her a lesson, Sin", Hal says breathlessly.

You could almost mistake Sinestro's smirk for a smile before he speaks. "I think the slut would enjoy that too much."

He pulls at your hair, forcing your head back. Before you can even get the chance to beg for more, for one of them to please just touch you, he's shoving himself back down. It's rough 𝄖 it's always rough with him 𝄖 and you're practically dripping.

You feel his breath begin to quicken, feel his cock twitch, the only warning you get of his impending release. You expect him to hold you against his cock until he's filling your throat with cum and your cunt clenches at the idea of it, eager as always for whatever he's willing to give you.

It's why you almost sob when Hal yanks your head back.

"You wanna be a good girl, baby?" He asks, biting down on your neck. "Be a good little slut for us?"

"Y-yeah", you whimper. "Please, I just wanna... I wanna..."

Sinestro grasps your chin between two fingers and tilts your head up to him. "If you want something, you're going to have to beg for it."