Work Text:
“Governor, (Y/N) (Y/L/N) here to see you, as requested.” Vera said, standing aside to let you walk in.
“Yes, thank you, Ms. Bennett. You can wait outside.” Joan said, looking away from her computer monitor.
You sat down in one of the chairs, and crossed your legs. Joan closed the tab she had open and turned towards you.
“(Y/N), I asked you here to talk about your parole.” she said.
You smiled a little and tilted your head. You had a little crush on her, it started a little bit after you got to Wentworth. You just loved the idea of a woman in authority. Especially a woman as mature and beautiful as her.
Joan has always been a great judge of character, she can easily interpret one’s body language when she sees them. Whenever you were in her company, she noticed your cheeks turn to a rose colour. She saw how you almost couldn't look at her when she was talking to you, but when she wasn't, you couldn't take your eyes off of her.
“What about it?” you asked, sweetly.
She opened a folder and pulled a piece of paper from it, “I’m supposed to give the parole board a recommendation, whether or not you're fit for release.” she said.
Her voice drifted into a sort of muffled sound, because your attention was just on her appearance. Her tall stature. She never slouched, her uniform not having a speck of lint on it. Not a hair out of place on her head, just a touch of makeup.
She stood up from her seat and walked to the front of the desk, sitting on the edge of it. Your eyes followed her as she moved.
“Your time here at Wentworth has proven that your criminal instincts and desires have nearly vanished. You’ve been a model prisoner ever since you came here.” she said, moving her finger along the paper, reading select fragments from it.
You weren't looking at her face, you were looking where your eyes had to be if you looked straight ahead - her waist, her thighs, and what was in between them. You closed your legs tighter as heat rushed between them.
You looked down at your hands and started picking at your nails, trying to distract yourself from what was in front of you.
Joan looked up from the paper and saw you looking down. She put the hand holding the paper of her legs and her other towards your head as she leaned closer.
She tilted your chin up and looked you straight in the eyes, “Are you listening, (Y/N)?” she asked.
‘Oh my god, oh my god, oh my god!’ you thought to yourself, ‘She’s touching me!’ Your lips parted and you exhaled, “Yes, Governor.”
She gave you a devilish smirk, “Good. Because you can't afford to be distracted right now.”