#joan ferguson

[inlovewithgreta]

could you do more governor!Joan and prisoner!reader? maybe some angst or more smut? I love your fics :)

Here's more Governor Joan and Prisoner reader just for you!! Thank you for the request as always, and thank you for loving the fics!! xo

Jealousy - Governor!Joan Ferguson x Prisoner!Reader

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

Summary: Joan does not take you being near Franky Doyle lightly.

Warnings: degradation, semi-public sex, oral sex (r!receiving), once again not proofread in the slightest..

Word Count: 1.8k

Taglist: @celasteria @shslbunnylover @bellatrixsbrat @coffeebreath23 @janewaykove

© Do not copy, repost, or modify any of my works.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

You were confused as to why Vera had ushered you to the Governor's office so soon after you were just outside in the yard. The authoritative figure only called you in if she needed information, but nothing out of the ordinary had happened in which information would need to be given.

Your stomach churned when after a few hasty knocks, Vera announced your presence before the Governor herself sent the deputy off for the rest of the night.

Hands fidgeted in front of you as you stood behind the now closed door, unmoved. Big, brown eyes were watching you like a hawk as the older woman stood tall next to her desk.

"Come here," she demanded, arms folded over her chest.

She looked slightly annoyed, and to your knowledge, you hadn't done anything wrong or withheld vital information from her. Yet you still did as you were told, and walked until you were mere inches from her, eyes cast down in obedience.

A surprised gasp came from you when Joan grabbed a fistful of your shirt and pulled you flush against her body. Your hands involuntarily grasped at her hips to steady yourself as you finally locked eyes with the woman.

You took her all in, hair slightly disheveled as if her fingers were running through it constantly, ruining her usually perfect bun. Her eyebrows were knitted together, and her lips were formed into a small frown.

Those who didn't know her, would just assume she was acting her usual self. But you...well, you knew her more intimately, and knew something was clearly bothering her.

"What have I told you about Franky Doyle?" She asked, finally speaking out.

Your eyebrows knitted in confusion, not expecting her to bring up the brunette. "I— what?" You shook your head.

"Do not play dumb with me, slut. Answer my question. And answer it now." Her grip on your shirt merely tightened, and you knew moving would be impossible with her deathly grip.

"You told me to stay away from her..." you answered after a moment, recalling her previous words.

She had not asked you, but demanded you to stay away from her, knowing you were just Franky's type and not wanting the woman to lay her hands on you.

After all, Joan was never one to share her toys.

"And have you? Been staying away from her?" She knowingly asked, lifting a high brow.

"No, Governor..." you sheepishly lowered your eyes, cheeks growing a deep crimson at your confession.

"Such an attention seeking little whore.." she spat. "I leave for two days and this is what I come back to? You getting all handsy with her?!"

"I'm sorry..." you apologized, looking back at her with big, puppy dog eyes. "I won't do it again, Governor. I promise." Your hands gently stroked her wide hips, in hopes of soothing the woman.

That was a little trick of yours. You had quickly found out that Joan melted at your touch. Your soft, sweet, and tender touches would always ease her stress, and you used it to your advantage.

"Let me make it up to you." Your lashes fluttered as your hands eagerly wandered to her belt buckle.

"Someone's a little impatient," she noted, visibly relaxing as your hands crept under her shirt to touch her bare stomach.

"Can you blame me? Watching you get all hot and bothered with jealousy is kind of hot.." you admitted, digits roaming across her smooth skin. "Besides, I missed you so much these past few days. A girl needs some attention around here."

"Always such a little slut for attention," she growled, taking your lower lip between her teeth and tugging. Joan had no choice but to sink into your smaller figure, finally giving in to her desires.

She needed you just as much as you needed her. And yes, it was wrong. But God, did it feel so good.

Her tongue swept across your bottom lip to soothe her harsh bite as she took full dominance over your lips. Her kiss was demanding, and this time you felt yourself melting into her touch, allowing yourself to hum quietly when her hands groped your breasts.

"But Franky doesn't touch you as well as I do, now does she?" She husked against your lips, and you merely shook your head.

You hastily unbutton her shirt, needing to feel more of her. Joan would normally punish you for actions like this, but knowing how pathetically needy you were for her, she would allow it.

And when a hand found itself shoved into your pants, while the other gripped at the back of your neck, subtle moans fell past your lips as she touched all the right places.

"And she doesn't get the joys of fucking your pretty little pussy, isn't that right, slut?" She nipped at your lower lip once more.

"N-No, Governor!" You whined pathetically against her lips as you arched your back and gripped the cold wood of her desk behind you.

Joan tugged at the fabric of your clothes, only pulling apart for long enough to strip you free and leave you bare in front of her.

"You're mine. Do I make myself clear?" You gasp when Joan lifts you atop her desk, then kneels before you.

Your gaze is settled entirely on her, licking your lips at her unbuttoned shirt that showed off her perfect chest. Her eyes were blown out, and your fingers tugged at her messy hair in deliberation.

"Yes, Governor.. I'm all yours," You watch the movements of her tongue and quiver as she eagerly strokes up and down your folds.

You let out a quiet moan as you watched the woman shoving her face between your legs to devour your pussy like it was your last meal.

"Just like that, Gov. Taste me. Touch me."

You buck your hips as her tongue explores every inch of your cunt. Joan couldn't stay mad, not with you. You were her kryptonite. Her weakness. And she never thought she'd see the day where she would have any.

Just as Joan was to pay attention to your aching clit, the lights suddenly went out. You gasped at not only being surrounded by darkness, but the fact that Joan didn't stop.

Her movements only increased as she lapped at every inch of your pussy, licking a strip up your folds to then suck at your clit.

"G-Gov, the lights!" You moaned, but still didn't dare to move.

Joan chuckled between your thighs. The vibrations went straight to your core, forcing your back to arch as you threw a leg over her shoulder.

"And just like that, my little slut. Nobody will bother us for the rest of the night." You felt her smirk.

Even as the darkness enveloped both of you, Joan didn't let that stop her from finishing what she had planned to do to you. It was exactly what she was waiting for.

With everyone gone for the night, she now had a renewed determination to fuck you senseless. As a whine fell past your lips from her tongue leaving your cunt, Joan began to leave a fiery line of kisses on your thigh.

She was teasing you. Wanting to take her time with you.

You were sure your arousal was dripping down onto her wooden desk for you to clean up after, knowing Joan always made you clean up after yourself.

You let yourself relax as she explored your lower half, bracing your palms flat against the mahogany behind you.

"Fuck, you're so hot," you moaned out as Joan licked a strip up your core once more. "Fuck my pussy, Governor. It's all yours."

Her tongue circled your clit and decided now was the time to stop holding herself back. Joan's head dove between your spread thighs once more, using her tongue to ravage your pussy.

With Joan's strong hands holding you still, your head fell back as a string of moans filled the quiet room. The woman was greedy, stroking her tongue long and hard against your cunt. Hips bucked wildly.

"God, you taste so good," she hummed between kitten licks.

Both of you lost track of time as Joan, was working your body, and you were a moaning mess atop her desk. Every stroke of her tongue ignited a fire deep within you, heating you up from the inside out. Beads of sweat formed along your hairline as you chased your climax.

Heavy footsteps snaked you out of your thoughts, head whipping towards the door with wide eyes. You knew Joan had heard it when she sucked harder, only eliciting louder moans from you that you had to cover with a hand over your mouth.

"Be fucking quiet," she seethed, tightening her grip around your thighs so hard that would for sure leave marks in the future.

You jerk to move, but Joan's grip on you was deathly. She was going to finish what she started, no matter the cost.

You're on the edge and Joan can tell by your leg spasms. Your moans were muffled, but still loud, and your heart was thumping in your chest as you watched feet pass under the door, luckily not stopping.

As much as you knew you should've stopped, the thrill of them walking in sent you completely over the edge. Your body rocked into Joan's as you couldn't hold back anymore.

"Fuck!" You whined into your hands, legs merely closing in on Joan's head as she didn't let up on her tongue.

Taking your lower lip in your teeth, Joan ate your pussy through your orgasm as you came along her tongue. Hard.

You barely managed to hold back your cry as you shuddered. Body clenching over and over again as Joan swallowed every bit of come that came leaking out of your pussy.

Your body sagged against the desk, completely spent from your climax, and Joan hummed in approval before wiping her glistening chin with the back of her hand.

"Fucking janitors..." she mumbled, "Remind me to fire them for staying so late."

You hummed, and Joan couldn't help but let her lips twitch into a smirk as she finally took in your state.

Your legs were shaking, breathing was heavy, and sweat trickled down your forehead as you leaned against her wooden desk.

"What's so funny?" You asked, as Joan stood up and wrapped her arms around you.

"The fact that I know Franky could never fuck you like I do," she hovered over your lips.

You couldn't help but to playfully roll your eyes at her words. "Still on about Franky, huh?" You teased. "Jealous over little old me? I'm flattered," you smiled, pulling the woman in to a deep, lustrous kiss.

"Don't get cocky," she said, pulling your hair back and eliciting a sinful moan from you. "Now hurry up and get dressed, you still have a cell to get back to."

You heavily sighed, hopping off the desk, and surprisingly not falling on your face thanks to Joan's firm grip on your hip to keep you standing.

"What about you? It's my turn to take care of you," you asked, quickly pulling your clothes back on your body.

"I can take care of myself," she smirked, knowing the image she just put in your head at your dramatic groan.

You crossed your arms and stood rather impatiently at her door as she quickly fixed herself up in her mirror, the smirk not leaving her face at your dramatics.

Joan was nothing but a tease and a jealous woman, but she was loyal. And you knew she would wait however long it took for you to get out so she could take you wherever she pleased.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

general masterlist | pamela masterlist | taglist

[queenvictory]

[secretsofthewilde]

Joan Ferguson, a wolf's desire

Anaïs Nin, The Voice // Emily Jungmin Yoon, a Cruelty Special to Our Species // Pablo Neruda, Ode to the Apple // Tory Adkisson, Anecdote of the Pig // Margaret Atwood, More and More // Franz Kafka, Letters to Milena (via x) // unknown, (via x) // ojibwa, (via x) // Hélène Cixous, Stigmata: Escaping Texts; from ‘Love of the Wolf’, tr. Keith Cohen

[kessellluvr]

hot women over 40 being married to the most unappealing men to exist is gonna be my downfall.

[jove999]

I finished watching Wentworth!! Here are some of my favorite characters

[celasteria]

if wentworth had twitter 1/?

[phryneluvbot]

Happy May the 4th be with you for those who celebrate

[camillelespanayesbtch]

Haven't I Given Enough? (18+)

Governor!Joan Ferguson x reader

Content Warning: Graphic depictions of violence, blood, inappropriate relationship, sexual assault (?), drugging, emotional/psychological abuse, physical abuse, eventual smut.

Chapter One

You sink your teeth into the man’s neck, biting down as you pull back, tearing a chunk of his flesh and muscle from him. You let go of him, your arms falling to your side as you land on your feet, a bloody grin spreading across your face as you watch him stumble, bringing unsteady hands up to his neck to try and stem the bleeding but it was of little use- he wouldn’t survive. No real loss to anyone, although you’re certain his mother will be the first person to sob about the loss of her precious baby boy. “You should have listened to me when I told you to not fucking touch me. But men always think they’re exempt to a woman’s boundaries.” You give him a firm shove so he falls to the ground, his head hitting the hardwood floor with a sickening crack. You watch as blood starts to pool around him, bright red, fresh, the coppery smell soon hitting your nostrils, “What an excellent trial run for my recent dental procedure, don’t you think?”

You let out a laugh when you hear sirens, turning to look at the rest of the people in the bar, “You’re all fucking cowards. People like you are the reason people like him get away with it.” You gather up most of the blood in your mouth before spitting it onto the floor then bringing your hand up to wipe the excess from your lips. You hold your hands up when the police come in, not struggling against one of them as she brings your hands behind your back, slapping a pair of cuffs around your wrists tightly before he marches you out. You flash a bloody smile at the patrons as they watch you get walked out to the awaiting patrol car.

“Careful boys!” One of the patrons calls out, “She’s a freak!” The cops wave them off, telling them to head back inside for their colleagues to question. The door to the car open and you’re shoved inside, “You try biting us, and I’ll knock your fucking teeth out.”

You laugh, “Why would I? I hate pork,” you spit on the ground before the door slams shut. You sit back and close your eyes as the sirens flick on, a first-class trip to the station, lucky you.

You’re taken out of the holding cell after cuffs have been secured to your hands and feet so you couldn’t struggle as a bite mask is secure around your mouth. You couldn’t lie, the whole thing was rather exhilarating for you, being treated like such a high-risk person- how tantalizing. This was likely to try and reduce any temptation you may have to bite somebody, but you didn’t have that, not yet anyway. You smile at the officer, your mouth still visible through the clear cover, “This won’t do you much good, but I suppose if it’s of comfort to you then that’s all that matters, isn’t it?”  You chuckle and get into the back of the transportation vehicle, leaning against the interior of it once seated before turning to look at the other woman traveling with you, “Oh don’t look so frightened, if you’re not a rapist or a kiddy diddler, we’ll get on just fine.”

“I’m not scared of a freak like you. There’s far worse walking around the shit-hole we’re going to than you,” she replies, looking you up and down. “You won’t last a minute in there. Just because you got those fancy teeth doesn’t mean you’ll be able to do shit to stop anything.” She leans in to touch you, to prove that she could get to you, but when you move the smallest amount, the sound of the cuffs jangling startles her and she sits back, her face going pale. For someone who isn’t afraid of you, she sure is startled by the slightest of things. Maybe she took one too many pingers and it made her permanently jumpy.

“Looks like you’re the one who isn’t going to last very long in there. Snow white whose skin’s as fair as snow.” You chuckle and shift, getting comfortable in the seat as you watch the other woman. She wasn’t going to win. You were going to keep a mental note of every single person who tried you. It didn’t matter if you got them back immediately because sometimes the wait was far more thrilling, watching them flinch every time you were near, the way they were constantly looking over their shoulders to make sure you weren’t there, the way they’d rush to their next destination in fear of bumping into you. Did you actually ever do anything to them? Technically no. Psychological harm leaves no visible scars; their twitchiness could be brushed off as severe anxiety, perhaps even autism or ADHD. Nobody would believe them if they spoke about how you were intimidating them… Well, not before your face was plastered on the news for the brutal murder of that man. Oh you can hear them now, “I always knew there was something off about her. She has this dead look to her eyes. Only psychopaths have that.”  You chuckle and shake your head, leaning your head back against the wall and closing your eyes as you focus on the sound of the car on the road, and the absence of city noise. You were heading out to the whop whops, the middle of butt-fuck nowhere.

You don’t open your eyes until the vehicle comes to a stop, the woman you were riding with was banging on the door to be let out so she wouldn’t have to spend another minute with you. You can’t help but laugh when she falls out when the doors open, one of the awaiting correction officers pulls her up and leads her away. You move towards the opening, stepping down before stretching as best you could, turning your head to look up at the night sky and letting out a pleased hum, “Fresh air, so much nicer than in the city.”

When you look around, your eyes land on an imposing woman whose hair was slicked back in a tight bun, even in the dim lighting you could tell there wasn’t a single hair out of place, no fly-aways, no frizz, nothing. Her uniform was likely starched and freshly pressed, the buttons polished and the crowns on her shoulders perfectly symmetrical. You tilt your head slightly as you run your eyes up the buttons of her blazer to her face, your cheeks going pink when you notice the slight smirk on her face, and you notice- Oh, there it is, the same look in her eyes that you have, or perhaps the lack of something, the absence of life. The corners of your lips turn up in a predatory grin, and for a moment you felt devilish, your tongue coming out to run along the teeth you bared, “I feel like I’m the guest of honor having someone like you waiting here to greet me. Do you want an autograph? Or something more personal? I assure you, my bite doesn’t hurt that much.”

The imposing woman lets out an amused chuckle and you felt flattered that you’d elicited such a response, “You’re a high-risk inmate, I have to ensure that you don’t cause any chaos in my prison.” She runs her eyes over you without moving her head, most of the other women were too scared to do what she needed done, fearful of retribution from other inmates, but that little bite guard around your mouth, and the chains ensuring you couldn’t attack anyone told her that you were what she needed. She was going to have fun with you, and she was certain you would enjoy every minute of it too. “Process her, and take her to protection for the night. Miss Bennett and I will assess tomorrow whether or not she is suited for general.”

“Protection?” You ask with a pout, almost upset you wouldn’t get to meet any of the other inmates yet, “I’m wounded.” You laugh when, who you can only assume is Miss Bennett ushers you into the prison to be processed. You had no doubt in your mind that there was a reason for you coming here so late in the evening, the absence of  the other inmates trying to intimidate new-comers was noticeable and it frustrated you that you wouldn’t get to experience it, but word travels fast in prisons so by morning you were certain that they would know there was someone special in their midst. “Miss Bennett,” you draw out the ‘iss’ and add emphasis to the ‘B’ of her name, a childlike smile on your face and glee in your eyes, “Is this where you feel me up and play it off as protocol?” The smile drops from your face when you’re stopped in a room, looking at her, “Because if your hand goes anywhere near my cunt, I’ll rip the fucker off.”

Miss Bennett falters slightly, her eyes narrowing slightly and briefly, “Which is why you’ll be remaining cuffed, Miss Smythe. We wouldn’t want you having any additional charges added to your docket now, would we? You’ll be patted down seeing as you’re already in a corrections uniform. I trust my colleagues at the precinct did a sufficient job in ensuring you weren’t concealing anything.” She goes to put on a pair of latex gloves when the door opens again, “I was just about to pat her down, Governor Ferguson,” Miss Bennett informs the much taller woman.

“I will be conducting the search, Miss Bennett. I do, however, would like you to uncuff Miss Smythe.” The governor watches as Vera tentatively starts to remove the cuffs from you, the mousy woman nearly jumping out of her skin when you scare her before you stretch, your bones letting out satisfying cracks. “Leave us.”

“But, Governor, she’s a high-“

“I won’t repeat myself, Miss Bennett, I find it tedious.” She replies dryly, her eyes never leaving yours. She pulls something from the inside pocket of her blazer, and at first you couldn’t figure out what they were until you watch as she pulls the smooth black leather gloves onto her large hands, fitting her snuggly and reflecting the harsh sterile lighting in the room. She pushes down between each of her fingers to make sure they fit properly, like a ritual. You notice her nostrils flare somewhat when she’s satisfied. Finally her eyes return to you, the dark brown almost black and you feel the air being pulled from your lungs, “Remove your clothes.”

“Want me to be sensual with it for you, Governor? Or do you prefer a quick strip?” You ask, running your hands over your chest then down your body before laughing although the sound is cut short when she slaps you hard across the face, her own features expressionless. “Rough,” you rub your cheek before removing your clothes, taking the time to fold them and neatly put them off to the side which greatly pleases the older woman although she wouldn’t admit it.

You unclip your bra, adding it to the pile along with your underwear once you’ve removed them. You hold your arms out to the side, standing still while she examines you. Her touch was methodical, making sure she didn’t miss an inch of you least she gloss over something you were concealing, although she doubted you would try to when your mere existence was a weapon. Her hands lift up each breast, her finger running underneath them to feel for anything before she lets go. You couldn’t help but feel like your breathing was too loud, or was it that the room was far too silent for your liking? The silence, you found, had always been particularly suffocating, and now it only seemed to be far worse. You try taking a quieter breath, but even that seemed piercing in this room. Her hand moves lower, causing every synapse in your brain to fire, and before you realize what you were doing, your hand was wrapped tightly around her wrist forcing it back, “Don’t fucking touch me or I’ll rip your fucking face off.”

“Unhand me, or I’ll make sure you never see the light of day again,” she replies cooly, “I don’t imagine someone like you prefers social isolation, no natural light, no interaction even from the guards.” She moves her other hand lower, running over the slight bump of your stomach, her fingers touching the curls at the top of your pubis, “Do you have something to hide, Miss Smythe?”

You feel your blood run cold, letting go of her hand out of fear and stepping back until you’re against the wall, “No- No, I don’t. I don’t need to smuggle anything in. It’s just my teeth- Just my teeth, Go- Governor, I swear.” Your fear intrigued her, was this the reason why you were so violent? Because someone had taken something from you when you were unable to defend yourself? She lets out a hum, she would have to re-read your file. Joan knew that fear was an excellent motivator, perhaps all she had to do was break you down and rebuild you. The thought thrilled her, reinvigorated her. How delicious. “Please,” you plead, “I swear I don’t have anything. They- they checked me before transporting me here. I- I didn’t trade anything because the bitch was frightened of me.”

You were scared, now what you needed was kindness. “You poor thing,” she says surprisingly softly, moving carefully towards you, “So much change in such a short span of time, no wonder you’re so on edge.” She reaches out to gently stroke your cheek, her thumb brushing across the swell of it, the cool glove a wonderful contrast to your burning skin. Her features had softened considerably, a tenderness in her eyes that had you, against your better judgement, leaning into her touch. “When you’re ready, how about you put your clothes back on, and I will walk you to your cell for the night, hm? I’m sure I can arrange for a hot beverage of your liking to make you a little more comfortable.”

“I-“ God, you didn’t realize how tired you were until she mentioned going to your cell, your eyes suddenly heavy, “I just want some sleep,” you whisper, your eyes drifting shut as she continues to caress your cheek, “I haven’t- I haven’t slept in a few days. I just- I can’t let my guard down-“

“I know you do,” she moves her hand from your face before helping you get dressed, her touch never lingering long as to avoid putting you on edge again. She smooths your clothing out, the action helping to soothe you further, “There we go, all better, hm? Come on, let’s get you to your new accommodation.” Joan offers you a brief smile which brings color to your cheeks, her hand resting on the center of your back as she guides you out of the room, “Once you’re there, I’ll remove that nasty little bite guard from you. I can’t imagine it’s terribly comfortable for you. What a nasty thing.”

“It’s not- It’s not terrible,” you reply quietly, “Safety is more important than my comfort, don’t you think? It’s why they put it on me. But-“ You giggle a bit, “I suppose it would make it difficult for me to enjoy the drink you were offering.” The only sound in the building was coming from your feet on the ground, Joan’s shoes making a delicious clicking that, you couldn’t deny, was something you thoroughly enjoyed. You wonder if the other staff’s shoes would make the same sound, if you would be able to differentiate between theirs and Joan’s. Not that you were already infatuated with the woman, you weren’t going to forget what she tried doing to you so easily, just for now you were going to put it to the back of your mind. Were you easily convinced? Bought off with a hot chocolate? Maybe just for tonight. Just for tonight.

When you arrive at your destination, Joan gestures for you to enter the cell, “You get comfortable, and I’ll return shortly with that drink- Does hot chocolate suit? I can have it made with chocolate sauce just this once.” She gives you that smile again and you return it with a slight nod of your head. The older woman lets out a satisfied hum before shutting the door and leaving. You weren’t the youngest woman in the prison by any means, but there was something about you that was so different to everyone else, something better and she was going to do her best to ensure that it flourishes. She adds the chocolate sauce to the mug, mixing in something special before adding the hot milk, putting a few marshmallows on top for good measure. Joan gives it another stir, tapping the teaspoon against the mug before putting it in the sink then returning to you. She focuses on the sound of her feet on the linoleum, counting her breath with each step, a steady pace, a confident stride. She draws in a deep breath through her nose, exhaling slowly and putting that warm, friendly smile on her face that you were receptive to. She knocks on the door to your cell before unlocking it and opening it, “One hot chocolate with marshmallows.”

“With marshmallows too?” You smile and take the mug from her with thanks, “You should be careful, Governor, too much tlc and people might get jealous, or think you have a thing for me. Wouldn’t such a thing put a target on my back?” You sit back, bringing your knees up and resting the mug on top of your knee as you watch her. You pluck out a marshmallow with your tongue before chewing on it, letting out a happy hum. You usually didn’t like marshmallows, but sometimes you have a hankering for them, and when you do finally get them, you love it- the soft chew, or in this case, the stickiness that comes from them being partially melted.

“It’s a one off, Miss Smythe. Just to make your first night easier on you.” She had taken her gloves off by this point, clasping her hands together at the front of her waist as she watches you. She wasn’t fond of marshmallows, finding the texture unpleasant especially as they start to melt. “I don’t imagine a woman like you would have any difficulty standing up for yourself given you had no issue doing it in a bar full of rowdy patrons.”

“I don’t make a habit of ripping people’s throats out, Governor.” You start to sip the drink, you were happy it was sweet as it helped to cut through the richness of the chocolate sauce. Your eyes shut briefly as you think back to the times where you had wanted to rip out more people’s throats, but at that point in time, your degree was far more important to you than immediate retribution. In all your time of having violent fantasies, the one thing that always stopped you from acting on them was your future- your dream, your goal. Psychologists had told you that this was narcissistic, anti-social behavior, but you simply didn’t care. Your future was far more important than other people’s feelings on the matter, on how you should behave and treat people because at the end of the day, you were the only one putting in the work, the only one cheering yourself on, not them. Not anybody. Just you. But of course, some man had to go and ruin a good thing, didn’t he? They just can’t help themselves. You let out a tsk before opening your eyes again, “I’d advise keeping the male staff away from me, Governor.”

Now that was interesting, perhaps a solution to a thorn in her side had just landed perfectly within her grasp- Fletcher. What a disgusting, pathetic excuse for a human being. “Don’t tell me you’re showing me your cards before the game has truly started,” Joan drawls, an amused look on her face, “I can’t have you threatening harm to my staff.”

“It’s not a threat, Governor Ferguson, it’s informing you of the inevitable should any be near. Now, that isn’t to say that I won’t be cordial if they are, but I won’t tolerate any man talking to me like I’m some object, someone’s property.” You drink some more, your head starting to feel foggy but you put that down to fatigue, “Shit-“ You go to put the mug to the side but miss the table, Joan moving quickly to help you put it on, murmuring a “careful.” You blink a few times, your eyes struggling to focus and now you were starting to put the pieces together, “You-“ You force your head up to look at her, “You drugged me?” You slur, trying to take a swing at her but you fall to the side, onto your bed, “Fucking-“

Joan moves you so you were laying comfortably, pulling the thin sheets over your body, “Yes yes, go on about how I’m a bitch. The usual diatribe gets rather tedious when it isn’t your first time hearing it. However, you will thank me in the morning for being able to get a good sleep your first night here.” Her face was so close to yours that you could smell her breath, peppermint, the kind that made your mouth hurt when you would drink cold water after. “Don’t take this small act of generosity for granted. You’ll think of it when I offer you deals in future, and if you’re good,” she uses a finger to brush a strand of hair from your face, “You’ll reap the rewards.”

Her words filled your head like molasses, but you didn’t have the energy to reply to her, your eyes rolling back into your head as the effects of the sedative kick in. A dreamless sleep was a blessing, you just wouldn’t be appreciative of it for a while- certainly if you were denied your antipsychotics. You did know, however, that this Governor Ferguson was an enigma that you wanted to crack. You just didn’t know if you would break first.

[theboxedmiracle]

The way vera bennett HAS to be a lesbian bc no straight woman could ever be that obsessed with joan ferguson.

[cannibalspicnic]

Wentworth Prison: Where the sex is gay, and the murder is even gayer!

[janewaykove]

Pamela Rabe as Joan Ferguson in Wentworth (S3E06)

[inlovewithgreta]

Hi, if you’re requests are open could I please request something with governor!joan Ferguson and prisoner!reader. It’s such a problematic power imbalance lol but she was soooo hot in her governor era.

Thank you if you do 💖 lots of love

Y'all have no idea how much I LOVE writing for Joan, keep the requests coming!! Thank you anon for the request!! Hope you enjoy more Joan smut! xo

A Night In The Slot - Governor!Joan Ferguson x Prisoner!Reader

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

Summary: Joan comes to visit you once again in the slot.

Warnings: praise, dirty talk, oral sex (joan receiving), power imbalance, etc...

Word Count: 1.5k

Taglist: @celasteria @shslbunnylover @bellatrixsbrat @coffeebreath23 @janewaykove

© Do not copy, repost, or modify any of my works.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

Your head snapped towards the door when you heard the familiar sounds of a card swipe to unlock the heavy door to your enclosure. You had been slotted without warning, and had yet to know why this time.

Usually when you were 'slotted' it was all for show, so the prisoners wouldn't suspect you had a deal going with the Governor. You were her eyes and ears in the prison, and you relished in the fact that she always needed you.

Your 'slot' time usually ended in one of you getting fucked. As of today, nothing particular happened. Nothing happened... at least that you were aware of.

You couldn't help the smirk that formed across your lips as a familiar tall figure entered the room and shut the door briskly behind her, ensuring to leave a small object in the way so the door didn't lock her in. You sat with patience, not saying a word, knowing her next move was to cover the camera before anything was said or done.

And once she did, she cut you off before you could speak.

"I want you to make me forget last night ever happened. Do I make myself clear?" She demanded, with a hint of annoyance in her tone.

Your eyebrows knitted in confusion. Last night? Nothing happened last night. It was quiet. Normal. Nothing out of the ordinary.

Joan sighed, "I fucked a man last night. Or let me rephrase that, I attempted to fuck a man last night but the bastard didn't know how to pleasure a woman even if they told him exactly what to do." She rolled her eyes, making her way towards you with a scoff.

"He sounds awful," you reassured her. You always did. Hands immediately grasping at her hips as she towered over you. "I can only assume I'm here to help you relieve some pent up...stress?" You smirked, tugging at her belt.

"Don't tease me, you little minx. You know exactly why I'm here." Her hands found yours at her hips and held onto them firmly, as if you dared to pull away.

You never did. You never would. And that's why Joan liked you so much. Sure, it was heavily inappropriate, but she just couldn't help herself around you. You were the best she's ever had.

A one-time deal soon turned to two, then three, and now it happened so often that you've forgotten how many times by now. Not that you would complain of course, Joan was intoxicating.

Neither of you could ever get your fill of each other.

"So impatient tonight..." you tsked. "He must've touched you in all the wrong ways. You must be so.... starved." Your skillfully fingers were able to tug her closer by her belt to swiftly undo her clasp. "You didn't get to come, did you?"

Joan shivered as your cold, bare hand, untucked her shirt from her pants and touched the skin across stomach.

Her voice was low and husky as she responded, "And if I didn't?"

"Then I must do something about it right away, Governor." You bit your bottom lip, tugging her zipper down to slide her pants down her thick, luxuriously milky thighs. "Wearing this just for me?" You asked, looking up at her through your curled lashes with a foax innocent look as your fingers grazed her black stockings.

"Do you see anybody else in here?" She asked sarcastically. Her chest rising and falling as she grew impatient.

"No, Governor." You shook your head, getting lost in her dark, brown eyes.

"Then you have your answer... now get on with it before one of my daft officers notices I'm gone." She ordered, doing her best to hide her smile as you eagerly unbuttoned her shirt.

"Yes ma'am."

Joan grabbed the back of your head as she shrugged out of both her pants and her shirt, leaving her in just her sheer undergarments that went perfectly with her heels that made the woman even taller.

You placed slow, gentle kisses across her plush stomach, ensuring to leave your usual trail across the subtle stress marks at her hips. Joan couldn't help but close her eyes at your softness.

Men always just dove right in, whilst you took your time to cherish her. Every inch in of her. You knew what she liked without even having to ask. It was all just a matter of watching her movements.

Your hands trailed lower, rubbing down the side of her legs as you kissed your way to her other hip, ensuring it got the same attention.

As she visibly relaxed in your presence, you palmed her heated sex and heard a faint gasp at the subtle contact. You truly underestimated how needy she actually was.

"Yes, keep going..." she whispered, playing with your hair with one hand while the other took hold of your wrist, sliding your hand back and forth across her clothed cunt.

You felt her push herself against your palm with a partially frustrated groan. She needed more.

"Anything for you, Governor," you placed one last kiss to her hipbone before turning your attention to her clothed center. Joan felt your hot breath in front of her cunt and let your hand go, allowing your hand to move freely back to her thigh.

Your teeth grabbed onto her panties, before letting them go with a 'snap' and earning another groan from the woman.

"Stop the fucking teasing," she seethed.

"I know you like it, Governor." You stated, finally sliding the fabric down her thick legs. "Otherwise, you wouldn't be so wet for me," you bit your lip as you eyed her dripping core.

Joan merely shook her head, knowing you were right. She was too stubborn to admit it, but her silence was the only answer you needed.

The first lick of your tongue fluttering between her legs had her hips involuntarily jerk in your face as a spark ran through her entire body.

"See? Proof right here... you're so wet for me, Governor." You flatted your tongue against her folds again. "I bet you weren't this wet with him, were you?"

"Definitely not..." Her fingers tugged at your messy strands, keeping your face against her needy cunt.

"He didn't get to taste your sweet little pussy like I am right now, did he?" You keep your touches light and shallow, following them up with gentle pressure along her swollen clit.

"He didn't even care to.." she admitted, letting out a small hum when you began to suck. Small goosebumps formed all across her otherwise smooth milky skin.

"Stupid man..." you retorted, diving into her pussy once more.

"Very," she agreed, holding your hair behind your hair in a makeshift ponytail as you happily lapped at her cunt. "You're much.." she let out a small hum as you sucked harder. "Much better."

Her words drove you crazy. You gazed up at the woman through your lashes, knowing that your eye contact would drive her crazy too. As it always did.

Her lips fell agape as she peered down at you, letting out a shaky breath when a finger easily slipped past her entrance. Joan always started quiet, making you work to hear even just the slightest of noises from her.

You roll your tongue over her bud and elicit the smallest of hums from the woman. "Fuck.." she mumbled under her breath.

After inserting a second finger, the grip on your scalp grew rougher as she started slowly grinding her hips to match both the rhythm of your tongue and your fingers.

"Just like that, God I'm already close.." Joan was suffocating you between her pillowy thighs, chasing after her high.

"Come for me, Governor.." you told her. "You always taste so good on my tongue," you praised.

Her walls fluttered around your fingers as you repeatedly hit her spongey g-spot. You could barely breathe, but you were relentless, ensuring Joan got what she so desperately needed.

A husky, drawn out moan and warm liquid dripping down your fingers let you know Joan has finally reached her peak. The woman was panting above you, weight visibly lifting from her shoulders as you helped her ride out her high.

"Christ— you're always so good," she admitted, readjusting her shirt.

"I know," you smirked, placing one last kiss to her plush thigh before slowly removing your fingers from her.

"Always so smug too," she rolled her eyes. "Now you know the deal.." she handed you her handkerchief to wipe your face and hands which you accepted eagerly.

"Yes, yes... we've been over this multiple times before," you reassured Joan, handing her back her handkerchief.

"This is the last time, you know."

"Because I get out of here soon? Governor, that just means we can do this more freely. Unless you want to go back to fucking men who can't even make you come.." you shrugged.

Joan all but rolled her eyes, swiftly pulling her underwear and pants back up. "Don't get your hopes up," she stated as she tightened her belt back around her waist.

"Oh, I don't plan on it." You smirked devilishly, leaning yourself back on your hands. "See you on the outside, Gov'!" You chuckled as the woman left you without another word, only giving you one last glance with a familiar glint in her eye that told you that you definitely would.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

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#Repostober day 8

I've been tempted to repaint this piece one of these days.... I'm still very proud of it.

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