#joan ferguson ://////

[theboxedmiracle]

The bond between a lesbian and a female villain who is despised by men and the majority of the fanbase is unbreakable

[celasteria]

New Pam pics make me go

[inlovewithgreta]

Hiii!!!I love your works, I binge read the milf one shots all the time especially Joan's.

I was hoping you could do a story where Joan finds out that the reader has nipple piercings mixed in with a protective thing. Like joan overhears some coworkers or strangers at a bar talking abt reader and are talking abt whether reader has piercings or not and how they would react/do to reader to find out. Obvi joan doesn't like it and just wants to shield the reader from the world (but hasn't told her of her feelings yet) and whisks her away.

Piercings - Joan Ferguson x Fem!Reader

Summary: A night out at the local bar reveals more than just mutual feelings.

Warnings: praise, legal age gap, body worship, reader has nipple piercings, men being gross, protective Joan, mentions of drugs, mentions of alcohol, alcohol consumption, oral sex, vibrator usage, squirting, etc…

Word Count: 4.2k

Taglist: @celasteria @bellatrixsbrat @janewaykove @secretsofthewilde @goforgreat

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

To say you admired Joan would be an understatement. She was the best boss you could ever ask for. Taking you under her wing, teaching you to be the best version of yourself, protecting you from harm's way, and even listening to your ramblings about the importance of bonding in the workplace.

Which is exactly what led to today's events.

Where all of your coworkers, including yourself and Joan, were all gathered at a local bar to celebrate Joan's most recent drug bust and all of the hard work the rest of you put into helping clean the prison.

And it just so happened to be your Birthday as well. Yet the only person who knew that, was Joan herself as she was your employer. The person who knew everything about you.

You only knew that she knew because you had not told your coworkers. None of them wished you a Happy Birthday. But she did, when the only way you were able to fully convince her to come, was by admitting to her that today was your special day.

To say Joan was protective over you was an understatement. You were smaller, shorter, more fragile than she was. The first time you were injured on the job, she nearly put her hands on the prisoner who did it. And drunk men at a bar, was always a disaster waiting to happen.

She didn't know what overcame her. Never had she once thought she would be so protective over another person. Not once had it crossed her mind that she would feel anything for anyone.

Yet here she was, sitting shoulder to shoulder with you in the corner most area at a local bar. A place she despised going. Bars were filthy. Full of germs... full of drunk men. But one simple ask from you was all it took for her to cave in.

These past few months of you being her Deputy were the most stress-free months she's ever had being the Governor. And it was all thanks to your lighthearted attitude, your determination, and your eagerness to please her.

"I'm going to get another drink.." You said, leaning in towards your boss, who was playing with the thin straw to her own nearly empty drink. "Would you like another? It's on me.." You asked, with a small smile.

"No thank you.." She grumbled.

"C'mon," you playfully whined. "Loosen up a little bit, Governor. Just for tonight.. For me? Please??" You gave the woman your best pleading look, which instantly shattered her highly built walls and won her over.

"Fine. But just one more." She raised her pointer finger.

"Yes! See, I knew you had it in you to have some fun," you teased, earning an eye roll from Joan.

You turned to leave, but Will and Linda were to your left, deep in conversation and blocking your exit. While on your right, sat Joan, and a pile of everyone's jackets.

The Governor sensed your hesitation as she watched your eyes glance from your left, then right to her lap, to the pile of jackets, and to the bar as you thought of your way out.

Knowing she would have to touch whoever's clothing was to her right, led her to say the words that came out of her mouth next.

"Just climb over my lap," she stated.

Your eyes widened at her words, and you were hoping she didn't notice the rising heat in your cheeks and flush of crimson that quickly spread across your features.

"C'mon, before I change my mind," she insisted.

You swallowed and nodded your head, carefully moving yourself over her. With her being so tall, and the table being so short, you had to sit in her lap very briefly to fit between her and the table, and you swore that even over the loud, blaring music, that you heard Joan suck in a breath.

You instantly felt warmth flood your body at the gentle touch of her hands finding your hips for a mere second to help you finish crossing over her and find your footing.

You didn't dare look back, wanting to avoid your boss seeing your flushed face. And you internally screamed at yourself for the instant gay panic you felt when her hands just barely touched you as you only briefly sat in her lap. A place you never thought you'd find yourself in.

Joan's gaze never left you as she watched you make your way to the bar. Now that you were alone, she felt the need to keep you in her eyesight.

Yet words from her left drew her attention back to your coworkers that were already nearly drunk, babbling, and saying your name. The others were too invested in their conversation to notice Joan still seated there.

All of their eyes were on you, but not in the same way Joan's was.

"Aye, do you reckon those are piercings?" One of the men asked.

"What do you mean?" Linda asked.

"She's not wearing a bra, Smiles. Just look at her chest. You can see something poking out. Looks like piercings."

As you were leaning against the bar, waiting for the two drinks you ordered, your eyes scanned the crowd before landing on Joan. You swore your heart stopped when dark brown eyes were already looking at you.

You gave her a small smile. A smile only you gave to her.

None of the others would even dare to crack one around her. Yet you of all people, did it quite often.

Joan however, didn't reciprocate it. As the words flooding in her ears had her hands turning into fists in her lap.

"I can't really tell," Linda said.

"Well she's showered and changed around you, hasn't she? You have to know if she does or not," another one of the men chimed in.

"I'm not staring at her chest!" She shook her head, but continued the conversation, "Why don't you find out for yourself, big guy," she nudged him.

"You reckon she'd go for me?" He straightened his back, now intrigued even more. "I'd do anything to find out," he said, downing the rest of his drink.

Joan seethed, nose twitching from anger as she hastily made her way out of the booth. She was quick to her feet, keeping eye contact with you as you followed her movements.

The same man unbuttoned his collared shirt ever so slightly to let his chest hair be seen by the public eye as he straightened himself up and made his own way out of the booth.

"Sorry for the wait, the bartender is swimming in orders so it might take a minute," you stated, as soon as Joan came in earshot.

"How about we lose the drinks and get out of here, hmm?" She asked, cutting straight to the point. "I can make far better ones back home for a whole lot less," she offered.

"Oh, okay! B-but what about—" you went to point towards the table where your coworkers sat, but Joan was quick to loop her arm around yours and pull you away with a rushed "forget them".

Joan herself was partially surprised with how quick you were to leave with her without any sort of hesitancy. It made a pool of warmth spread throughout her stomach. It was a strange feeling, yet she welcomed it.

Her salt and peppered hair fanned your neck at her closeness when she grabbed both her coat and yours, and helped you wrap it around your body to keep you warm.

Luckily, you got a ride from a cab, and didn't have a car to worry about. Once the two of you walked outside, you were hit with a thousand pellets of rain. It was cold. Freezing cold. And instantly drenched the two of you.

"Christ..." Joan muttered, before grabbing hold of your hand, pulling you from your daze, and walking unbearably fast towards her car.

Joan felt bad for you. Wearing such a small dress with so much skin showing, and now soaking wet. Your hand was cold, so the second she unlocked the car door, she held the passenger door open for you, and nearly shoved you in.

The last thing she needed was you getting sick. That means no work. And when you aren't at work, she doesn't get to see you.

And Joan needed to see you.

The ride back to Joan's place was quiet, yet comfortable. Quiet music played through the speakers, and the air from the vents gave you a nice warmth.

You felt eyes on you every so often. Joan couldn't help but check up on you. No, you weren't drunk, but you definitely had a good buzz. Which easily explained your giddy smile and fascination with the passing lights outside your window.

Joan couldn't help but shake her head with a small smile toying at her lips. You truly were the complete opposite of her.

She led you into her house with great care, but the second she took off your coat, the coldness returned. You were soaking wet, and your arms instinctively wrapped around yourself.

"Come with me," Joan ordered.

And as usual, you did.

You were then met with her bedroom. A very clean bedroom. And it didn't surprise you one bit as you looked around, standing awkwardly in the doorway.

Joan rummaged through some drawers before handing you an oversized sweater and a pair of sweatpants. "It's not much, but they will have to do. Keep you warm. Come downstairs after you've changed", she smiled softly, hands brushing against yours as she handed you her clothes and left you alone.

They were a bit baggy, but Joan was right... They did keep you warm. And when you breathed in, all you could smell was her.

And it was intoxicating.

Making your way back downstairs, Joan was in the kitchen, but your mind was focused on something else.

Her fencing swords. The tall glass cabinet held an enormous amount of swords. Each one is slightly different from the other. It was truly mesmerizing.

It was clear Joan took great pride in her hobbies, and all you could think about was her training with them. The sword, the gloves, the stance. How tight her gear would be on her body.

God, her body. Her curvaceous body. The way the fabric would stretch around her luscious ass when she would go to bend over—

"Each one of these I've used in a competition and won," Joan quietly stated, jumping you out of your dirty minded thoughts.

"Oh!-" You thought it was just the smell of her shirt that invaded your nostrils, but it was her. The close proximity gave you chills. She was close. Dangerously close. So close where you could smell her, feel her breast against your back, while her free hand rested gently against your shoulder.

The same hand that pretended to pick lint from your shoulder, when there wasn't really any. She just needed a reason to touch you.

"T-That's amazing," you gazed at her. "You must be very talented."

"More than you know, darling." She toyed. "Here, drink this. Will help with the intoxication and make you feel good."

"Thank you," you smiled at her, accepting the tall glass of water before taking a long sip.

You closed your eyes at the refreshing taste and let out a small hum of approval, but the words that came out of Joan's mouth next, had your eyes snapping right back open.

"Good girl," she quietly praised, letting her pointer finger draw imaginary circles along your shoulder. She was eyeing you. Watching your every reaction. Ensuring you listened.

"But, I'm not intoxicated... I'm all here," you whispered. "And I don't need water to make me feel good," you said, taking another small sip to hide the immediate blush spreading across your nose and cheeks.

Of course you had an alternative meaning to your words. How could you not be with her? And with the slight buzz that you still had, the alcoholic courage was still coursing through your veins.

But what you hadn't expected, was for Joan to lick her lower lip, and take the glass from your hands. Your eyes watched with much intrigue as she nearly chugged the rest of the water.

It was so out of character for Joan. And yet, this one small action turned you on immensely. It was all new and exciting, watching her do things she normally would never do. But you knew she only was doing it because of you.

"So, what makes you feel good then?" She asked, quirking a brow in response.

"Oh— y'know, uh— the usual stuff," you choked out. At this point, your face was more crimson than Joan had ever seen it, and she bit her lower lip to hold back a smirk.

To get her focus off your face, you quickly took the empty glass from her hand, and scurried towards the kitchen.

Joan was having fun with you now. It was all too easy. You were putty in her hands. Completely at her mercy. And she knew, in this moment, it was time to make her move.

You were right where she wanted you.

As you set the glass carefully in the sink, Joan was right behind you. Right behind you. Arms rested along the counter on either side of you.

"Let me help you," she whispered in your ear.

"W-what?" you completely froze.

"Don't play stupid. As cute as it is, you and I both know what I'm talking about. Now do you want me to or not? I will not be repeating myself."

"Please," you whimpered. You were unable to get anything else out of you.

"Please what?" She asked.

"Please fuck me, Joan..."

Joan let out a long, hot, yet partially shaky breath at your words. She knew it was coming, and yet it still made her shiver in excitement.

You were scared when Joan didn't move. It was unbearable. The long silence was insufferable, and for a moment you thought you had ruined everything.

That was, until a warm set of lips were plastered across the side of your neck. You couldn't help but suck in a breath. You've thought about this moment over and over again, but it actually happening was so much better.

"Go upstairs to my bedroom and wait for me," she mumbled into your soft skin before pulling away.

For a moment, you froze, not believing what was actually about to happen. But, a forceful smack to your ass pulled you out of your daze.

"Go on, I'll only be a minute," Joan reassured.

With shaky legs, you scurried your way back up the stairs and into Joan's bedroom. Your eyes fell on the bed, and fingers instinctively reached down to trace the soft material.

Time felt as if it was moving slow, making it seem like Joan was taking her sweet time. And maybe she was, as another ploy to toy with you and your impatience.

The door creaked open as you sat yourself down, your eyes instantly landing on Joan as she sauntered in. She had a newly filled glass of water in her hand, and her hair was now out of its ponytail, falling freely down her shoulders.

Fuck, what a sight that was.

She intended to give you the water later, needing you to stay hydrated on her. She planned on taking care of you. In more than one way.

After setting the glass on the bedside table, Joan made her way to you, standing intimidatingly tall in front of you. The way your eyes looked up at her. So full of excitement, innocence, and an eagerness to please.

Fingers grasped at your chin, forcing your gaze to stay hooked on her. "Do you want this?" She asked, in a low, raspy voice.

Your mouth fell agape, yet nothing came out.

"I'm not moving until you answer me, love. It's a simple question. Now use that pretty little head of yours and answer me."

"Y-Yes, God, yes. Please. I want it so bad. I want you so bad." Your hand instinctively pulled Joan in closer by the one that was already touching you.

Before you even had a chance to think, Joan was pinning you down against the bed and had her lips all over yours. A whimper escaped your throat when eager hands hooked under your shirt and traced their way up your stomach.

Joan let out a muffled groan when her fingers touched metal. Piercings. More specifically, nipples piercings.

And fuck, did she need to see them.

"Take my clothes off," you stated, reading her mind. "A-And yours. I want to see you, Joan. All of you. Please!"

Hands skillfully ran over bodies, clothes fell to the floor, and skin met skin as you both quickly and skillfully became naked in front of one another.

Joan took a second to break from the kiss, which easily elicited a whine from you from the detachment. "I'm not going far," she chuckled lowly. "I just want to admire you for a minute," she said, as her dark, lustful eyes scanned your naked body beneath her.

You would normally feel insecure in moments like this, but with Joan, it felt different. The way she gazed down at you, with hands roaming your smooth skin until they grasped at your tits.

Your back arched as her thumbs played with your nipples, and her eyes wandered over the jewelry decorating your tits.

"God, you're beautiful."

Joan took her time to trace every inch of your body, wanting to memorize every nook and cranny. Every dip. You were a work of art right in her bare hands.

"So fucking beautiful," she cooed. You shivered as salt and pepper hair tickled your skin as her lips attached themself to your neck. "And now you're all mine."

"Mine to admire." Kiss. "Mine to please." Another kiss. "Mine to cherish." Another kiss, followed by a deep suck to the skin along your collarbone. "Mine to keep," she finished off her sentence while admiring the newly formed mark she made.

"All yours, Joan..." you wiggled beneath her as her head dipped lower.

Her cold tongue swirled along your nipple before pulling the hardened bud between her lips and sucking. Your back arched, pushing your tits further into her mouth.

The other tit was given just as much attention as the first, Joan ensuring each one got the same amount of treatment.

"Such perfect tits. God really took his time with you," she cooed. Joan kissed, nipped, and licked her way further down your body.

She settled herself between your legs, immediately feeling the warmth between them as she sucked another mark into your inner thigh.

Your eyes were watching her like a hawk, enjoying the way her salt and peppered hair fell down her back. How her ass rose in the air as she kissed towards your cunt.

"And a pretty little pussy too," she groaned.

Your fingers pushed away the salt and pepper strands covering Joan's beautiful face. You wanted to watch her intently as her tongue dove into your cunt.

"Fuck..." You let out a shaky breath. Joan first planned on taking her time with you, but the second she tasted you, a ferocious energy took over her.

Her tongue swirled your clit before she sucked with all her strength. Quiet whimpers were quick to fly from your mouth. She was skillful with her ministrations. Knowing when to suck, to flick her tongue, to let out a low groan to add in a vibrational pleasure.

"You taste so good," she stated. "I'm never going to get enough of you."

Joan hiked your leg over her shoulder to push herself deeper into your pussy. Her tongue poked and prodded, swiping your juices all around your cunt as she lapped ferociously at you.

"That feels so good..." you moaned out, fingers clutching at not only her hair, but the sheets beneath you.

Joan can feel her own slick dripping down her thighs as she eats you out. Her own neediness to orgasm growing with each passing second. But, she needed you to come first.

Your thumb and forefinger twist your nipple while your hips jerk involuntarily in Joan's face. Your orgasm is fast approaching as you watch her between your legs.

"Come for me, beautiful," she coaxed. "Let me taste more of you."

The lewd noises between your legs, and Joan's praising words were more than enough to send you spiraling. Your whole body feels weak, but you push through.

"Good fucking girl," she praised. Joan lapped up your juices, savoring each and every drop as your legs shook around her.

After licking you nearly clean, Joan slithered up your body. Full, wet lips smashed roughly against yours, wanting you to taste yourself as her tongue worked its way into your mouth.

The kiss was heated. Wet. And sloppy.

And your hands desperately grasped at Joan's curvaceous hips. They slipped over the full curves to reach around and grab roughly at her thick ass that was far too big for your hands.

Your hands stayed put, even after Joan broke the kiss to allow both of you a moment to get air back in your system.

"You're so fucking beautiful, you know that?" She asked, fully aware that you were too dazed to respond by the glassy, fucked out look in your eyes.

"Fucking perfect," she whispered against your lips as she kissed you once more. This time it was sweeter, and softer than before.

"But don't think I'm done with you just yet, sweet girl. I know you can give me one more."

You whimpered at her words, and watched as she leaned over towards her nightstand, opened the drawer, and pulled out a wand.

Joan watches your facial and body movements intently, awaiting some sort of 'okay' before she continues her actions.

"P-Please," you cried out.

She bit her bottom lip, repositioning herself above you in a purposeful position.

The hum of the vibrator came to life after hearing your words, your eyes eagerly watching as Joan lowered the toy closer towards you.

"Joan—" you let out a shaky breath as she pressed the toy against your hardened nipple. With the piercings, your tits were more sensitive, and Joan quickly came to find that information out when a moan came out of your mouth.

Fuck, this was hot.

She swirled the toy around your nipple, before doing the same to the other. After all, she had to be fair. Joan couldn't keep her eyes off your tits, watching as they beautifully shook with each breath you took, and the way your piercings perfectly adorned them.

Joan's hand fell further, dragging the wand down your sternum towards the spot she couldn't wait to put it against.

Your hips jerked before the toy even came into contact with you. Your nerves and excitement were coursing through your veins.

Joan leaned in slightly, letting her lips hover over your own as she opened her mouth to speak.

"Come with me."

Fuck.

You cried out when Joan pressed the wand firmly against your puffy clit, the sensitivity immediately making you shake. She pushed her own hips forward, and let out her own deep, sinful moan as she joined you with her clit feeling the same vibrations.

You swallowed hard, and Joan sucked in a deep breath before letting out another moan. Her moans were laced with steel, and each one was embedded into your brain in an instant.

"Fuck— I can't—" you whined.

Your hands grasped at the one holding the vibrator to move it, but in one quick movement, Joan used a large hand to pin your wrists above your head.

"Wait for me," she said sternly.

Your body shook as electricity shot through your veins. Tears formed at the corners of your eyes, begging to drop, only to be wiped away by tender kisses from Joan's lips.

"Such a good girl for me," Joan smiled against your lips before giving you a tender peck. "So fucking good." Her hips rutted against the toy, adding more pressure to you, causing a loud, broken moan to escape.

Joan's dark, hungry eyes were devouring you as she watched you slowly break in front of her. Tears freely fell from your eyes. The need to come taking over your entire body.

"Joan, please—" your head shook as your nails dug into her porcelain skin.

"Now. Come— fuck!"

Joan bit your lower lip hard, nearly bruising the tender area. Even though she was right there, Joan waited for you to orgasm first.

You sobbed out her name, the coil finally snapping in your body, and allowing pleasure to rip through you completely. Joan watched you with satisfaction, before allowing herself to succumb to the pleasure.

"That's my girl..."

It was slick, wet, and came gushing out of her before she even had a coherent thought. She coated your pussy, thighs, and drenched the sheets beneath you as she came. Hard.

She tensed above you, toes curled, and moans mixed with yours in a sinful, harmonic symphony.

"Fucking christ..."

Joan leaned her forehead against yours, waiting until you let out an involuntary whine at the overstimulation before she turned the wand off and tossed it carelessly to the side.

You couldn't think, or even move for that matter. Just watched, as Joan breathed heavily above you, gently using her one clean hand to cup your face.

You were twitching beneath her, the aftershocks of your orgasm still prominent. You were a mess beneath her, and boy was that a sight for her to see.

She smirked at the sight. She was proud of herself.

When her own legs stopped shaking, Joan reached towards the nightstand again, but this time grabbed the glass of water. She brought the iced glass to your lips, allowing you to drink the refreshment.

She urged you to hold the glass yourself so she could move. You went to whine in protest, but the stern look on her face shut you right up. She was only gone momentarily to return with a warm, wet washcloth to clean you up.

You watched as she was careful and gentle, knowing you were now very sensitive.

No words were spoken, yet so much was said as she wiped you clean and took complete care of you first without a second thought.

You were falling.

Falling for Joan Ferguson.

general masterlist | pamela masterlist | taglist

[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

[queenvictory]

[jove999]

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

[braisedluyo2]

Wentworth tax🥹

[phryneluvbot]

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

[joansfaveguppy]

Yes… mommy- not sorry. She is mommy

[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.

[kessellluvr]

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

[theboxedmiracle]

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

[celasteria]

[inlovewithgreta]

Hiiii can we please get a fic with Joan Ferguson and face slapping kink if you're comfortable with it

Love your writing <3

Kinky - Joan Ferguson x Fem!Reader

Summary: Joan tries something new.

Warnings: face slapping (obvi), degradation, overstimulation, praise, slap kink, spanking, slight dumbification kink, I think that’s it?

Word Count: 2.2k

Taglist: @celasteria @bellatrixsbrat @janewaykove @secretsofthewilde @goforgreat

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

Joan's gaze skimmed over the room, basking in the memories that came flooding through her mind. From the window where she fucked you senseless for the world to see. To the dresser, where she bent you over and fucked you raw.

But her favorite spot of them all, was of course the bed. The same bed that she commanded you to lay on over and over again while she ate you out.

The same bed that you were laying on now. Bare. Legs spread. And an eager face.

You had stripped yourself free from your clothes then took your time removing item after item off of Joan until she herself was standing tall, beautiful, and naked at the edge of the bed.

You've been exposed to her before, but this time was different. This time you two were official. No more emotional barriers getting in the way. And now, there was nothing holding Joan back.

"You get even more goddamn beautiful every time I see you like this..." she admitted.

"Joan, I am nothing compared to you," you said back to her. Licking your lips, you took in the sight of her. Her stance was domineering, clearly in control, exactly how you liked her.

Her muscles contracted as she crawled onto the bed. Still a few feet away from you. Her large tits swayed with every movement she made. Her salt and pepper hair fell beautifully down her face. Her rounded hips curved dramatically as she crawled. And her warm, milky plush thighs squished your hips as she straddled you.

"I can never get tired of looking at you, Joan..."

"Must I open the drawer and grab your favorite blindfold?" She teased.

"No, please! I want to be able to look at you... to admire you... to see your gorgeous body taking complete control over mine."

"Then be the good girl I know you are and let me fuck you dumb. I don't want to see a thought behind those pretty little eyes. I want to do anything and everything to you. To leave you whimpering, wet, and crying after I have my way with you."

You don't even hesitate to wrap your legs around her, entrapping her, and grabbing her jaw with one hand to bring her face just mere inches from your own.

"My body and heart belong to you, Joan. I just have one favor, though.."

"And that is?" She questioned, raising a sharp and curious brow.

"Surprise me with something new."

Joan's smirk grew at your words. "Now that, baby, I can definitely do," she said, before her lips roughly connected with yours.

Your hands instinctively were brought to her body. Roaming and feverishly touching every inch. But, they were quick to grasp at her large tits.

Thumbs swiped at her pink nipples, before squeezing them between your thumb and forefinger. Joan moaned into your mouth, loving the attention to her breasts, but not enough to let you think you were in charge.

Her rough hands were quick to pin yours above your head. Large enough to use one to wrangle both of yours together and keep them pinned down.

"Keep your hands to yourself. Got it?"

Your head immediately nodded, but your mind was too fuzzy to comprehend a word your lover was saying.

"That's my good girl," she cooed into your ear.

Kisses were left along the entirety of your neck. Teeth scraped and bit, leaving instant marks, only to be soothed over with Joan's warm, wet tongue as she made a path lower.

Your collarbone was next. Then your breasts. And Joan for one, loved your breasts. The way your nipples grew hard when she tugged at them with her teeth.

Little whines grew as she gave them both her full attention. She was skillful with her mouth. That she proved over and over again. And was going to prove it once more tonight.

As Joan sucked a nipple between her lips and toyed with the other, your hands couldn't help but jump to her hair to move the grey strands from covering her beautiful face.

The moment was sweet, but in an instant was completely changed.

Joan's hand flew, and before you knew it, landed directly against your cheek in a harsh slap. The sound itself was sure to be heard for miles, but the gasp you let out after came in close second.

"I said, keep your fucking hands to yourself. Got it?" She questioned, nose slightly twitching as she attempted to control her anger. After all, she didn't want to actually harm you if she lost control.

"I—" your mouth opened, yet no words came out. You were shocked. Shocked to the core at the unexpected gesture.

Yet for some reason, the wetness between your legs dripped even heavier. Pooling at the covers beneath you.

And Joan, being ever so attentive as she always was, noticed not a single tear shed from you. How the redness in your cheeks grew, and not just in the spot she slapped. How your chest rose and fell rapidly.... And how your thighs squeezed together beneath her plush ass.

"Oh, I see...." Joan tsked. "You liked that, didn't you? You like it when I slap you around. When you act like a filthy little brat and I punish you for it. Isn't that right?"

Your breath hitched after Joan grabbed your cheeks roughly. Yet again, no words came out while your mouth propped open.

"Already speechless, are you? Pathetic..." she stated with a faux pout. "But, let's start with your first punishment before we tackle fixing that."

Joan, being the more muscular one between the two of you, took pride in how easy it was for her to flip your body over. Your front was against the bed, while your backside faced her.

"Do you know what I'm punishing you for?" She asked. "And I demand an answer this time," she deeply demanded in your ear.

"Y-Yes," you shakily answered. "T-Touching you."

"Glad to hear you're still self aware."

You let out a cry at the first smack to your ass, as Joan was quick to start your punishment. Slap after slap, Joan had you easily whining and pleading for her.

Even with the tears falling down your face, Joan knew by the mess your pussy was making, that you were enjoying being her little plaything.

You eventually lost count, while Joan admired the crimson shade that spread across both of your ass cheeks. Her hands kneaded at the skin, and you hissed at the contact.

"For punishment number two, you're going to stay like this. Face down. Ass up," she said, moving and repositioning your body as she spoke, allowing your ass to stand tall in the air. "And unable to look at me."

"But, Joan—" you whined, but were quickly cut off to another monstrous slap to your right cheek, as Joan quickly cut your words off.

"No but's, little one. You brought this all on yourself because you couldn't behave...." she teased, giving your ass cheek a tender kiss, giving you whiplash at her demeaning yet tender words and actions.

"But if you come for me, I might be more than willing to give you another chance to look at me. And we both know you'd be creaming on the spot if I let you watch me fuck you."

Her hands grabbed at your hips, positioning your lower body to allow her better access to your cunt that aches to be touched by her.

"Just look at you.... This pussy of yours is drenched and I haven't even done anything yet. Just how I like it..."

Her long and slender pointer finger slid easily along your folds. You were more wet than Joan had ever seen you, and it was all thanks to her slapping you around. Something both of you took a mental note of.

"So fucking wet..." she nearly whispered, holding your hips in place as her finger drew lazy lines along your folds. "And it's all for me.."

Two fingers easily slipped inside, being immediately coated by your arousal. Your pussy squelched as she got deeper until she was completely knuckle deep.

"You're taking me so well, baby..."

Joan was taking her time. Her fingers didn't move. Her voice became more gravely. More husky. And it only turned you on more.

You let out a soft moan when Joan spread her fingers inside you. Her smooth fingers stretched your ridge-filled walls with ease.

"M-More—" you finally spoke out. Your throat was dry, and your words were shaky.

"More?" Joan cackled devilishly. "So she speaks! Sweetheart, I don't think you're ready for that. Don't be foolish."

Your hips pushed back, and Joan's knuckles left imprints on your ass.

"Please! I n-need you... I need more."

Joan hesitated. First, her deep, dark brown eyes scanned your face. She wouldn't do it if you looked scared, but when you didn't look it, she let out a small breath.

Then, she took note of your body language. And with the way you freely spread your legs wider, she took that as her way to accept what you were asking her.

"You're lucky I find you rather cute sometimes."

A third finger was quick to add to the equation, completely stretching you further than Joan ever had before. You gasped at the stretch, it hurt only briefly at first until she slowly dragged her fingers out of you, leaving you with small moans when she pushed them back in.

But the pace didn't last long. Joan didn't want to waste anymore time. She sped up her ministrations, leaving you to moan with pleasure as she finger fucked you.

It didn't take much for you to come along Joan's fingers, your arousal dripping down the palm of her hand. Her name flew past your lips sinfully.

"Ahh— Fuck!" you whined, face burying deep into the pillow after feeling teeth bite down on your already sensitive ass.

"Such a little whore... I didn't say you could finish," Joan seethed. Teeth marks imprinted, letting it be known for you later when you look in the mirror.

Her fingers stayed pumping, relentlessly, refusing to slow down no matter how loud your cries were. Again, you deserved to be punished. Something Joan quickly became accustomed to.

"Now you're going to give me another one."

Your pussy was sensitive. Too sensitive. Tears brimming at the corner of your eyes at Joan's quickening pace. You didn't know how her hand wasn't cramping.

"I c-can't!" you whined. Although, your body went against your words. "Too sensitive..."

"You can. And you will," Joan demanded.

Tears shed, soaking the pillow beneath you, making it just as wet as the fingers filling up your insides. The pain, which was brief, turned into pleasure, allowing you to enjoy the moment more.

Joan's lips attached themselves to your ass, teeth nipping and sucking along your sensitive, crimson skin leaving dark marks in their wake as she sucked hickey after hickey on your body.

"Fuck, Joan..." your hips pushed back against her slender fingers.

"C'mon, baby, give me one more," she mewled. "I know you're already close again." Her voice was low and husky, while the breath along your bottom was warm yet soothing.

Your pussy clenched at the pet name. It was one of your favorites. And Joan knew exactly that.

"Come for me, baby. Show me what my good girl is capable of," she soothed, giving a soft peck over her marks that were now visibly showing.

After a few more thrusts, Joan's name filled the air a plethora of times. You couldn't help but squeal as your orgasm washed over you, more prominently and rougher than before.

Legs shook violently, and your thighs begged to close, but Joan refused for them to. She wanted the pleasure to last. To stay as long as possible. To watch as you writhed and cried in front of her.

"Joan!—" your voice was ragged and breathless as you yelled out your lover's name. "Holy shit..." your face buried into the pillow, muffling your moans as Joan let you ride out your high.

"That's my good girl..." she cooed.

You felt empty after Joan removed herself. Her gentle hands ran along your shaking body, soothing you in her best way possible.

Even as dominating and demanding Joan could be, this was the side of her nobody but you ever sees. The loving, tender, and soothing side of Joan that crawled up to you, and moved your hair out of your face.

She wanted to check up on you. As she always did after sex, and it made your heart melt when she cupped your cheek and gazed at you lovingly with those big, brown eyes.

"How are you feeling, baby? Was it too much? What can I get for you? Water?" She asked, thumb swiping mindlessly across your cheek bone.

You instinctively cuddled close to your worried lover, legs intertwining with hers, and an arm draped across her stomach while your head rested in the crook of her neck.

"Good. No. Not yet. Need cuddles..." your words were muffled with your face buried deep into her neck.

Joan let out a small sigh of relief. The last thing she would want to do is push you too far or make you uncomfortable. It was her job to take care of you. Make you feel safe and loved.

"Okay, sweetheart..." Her fingers toyed with your hair, twirling the strands carefully between her fingers while the other hand caressed your spine. "Let me know when you're ready to move," she said, kissing the top of your head. "I have to clean you up at some point."

You giggled at her words, while your body pressed tightly against hers. The warmth and comfort of her larger body always soothed you when you were in it, as it was like being in a bear hug.

And Joan kept to her word. Waiting for you to let her know when you calmed down and relaxed enough to let her finish taking care of you before tucking not only you, but herself into bed as well to engulf you into more cuddles.

general masterlist | pamela masterlist | taglist

[secretsofthewilde]

[notinmyvocab]