HER • GOOD • GIRL
part one • domme!annie x brat!fem reader
summary: upset with the lack of attention your woman is giving you, you take matters into your own hands and find someone to fill your time. but all of that backfires as annie stops at nothing to remind you of who you belong to.
cw: smut, alcohol, knife/slighttt violence, possessive annie, domme!mommy, face!riding, that good shit
a/n: y'all are welcome~~ i got so flustered writing this shit wtffff. part two??? let me know :3
part two.
masterlist
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
You rolled your eyes as Annie stood at the end of the bar, leaning over it. She was pouring a man a stout glass of moonshine, but all he could do was stare directly at her titties, devouring every bit of her with his eyes.
And she just let him ogle.
Annie was looking amazing tonight. A haint blue velvet dress clung to her curves, and her usual blue beads were tucked comfortably in her cleavage. There was a dark feather in her pinned back hair, and the orange light of Club Juke reflected beautifully off her skin. She was a sight—something to be ravished until the sun came up and even long into the hot Mississippi day.
But she was royally pissing you off.
The entire night, you’d sat here, looking your best and smelling like whatever dreams are made of, but Annie didn’t seem to care. She was bartending and frying fish because her ex husband asked her to. She had dragged you along to just drink, dance, and sit pretty.
But she hadn’t asked you to dance yet, and she’d only fixed you a drink once.
And here she was, flirting with some dusty ass man right in your face. She laughed at every joke he told, throwing her head back to show off her long neck. She tossed a hand across the bar and onto his shoulder with batted eyelashes.
It was infuriating.
What does a girl have to do to get some fuckin’ attention ‘round here?
You gazed around the room, looking high and low at the options set before you. If she wanted to entertain folks right in front of your face, then you could do the same too.
You saw Pearline first: she was gorgeous and had often caught your eye. On one occasion, you were talking with her a little too lively for Annie’s comfortability, causing her possessive nature to jump out. You spent the rest of the night with a red ass, cumming back to back with no end in sight. Annie knew how to make you remember that you were hers, and oh how you loved it.
You thought about using Pearline to toy with Annie again, but you saw how she and Preacher Boy were all cuddled up on the dance floor. They looked at each other like the other had created the entire world. It made you chuckle at the innocence of it all.
It made you think of you and Annie.
But you were mad at her right now.
You continued to eye your options, but no one compared to Annie in your heart. There were folks that looked nice or whatever, but the woman you lay beside every night had this insane quality of satiating every part of you. Every desire was met, and you wanted for nothing. That’s why you were so enraged by her lack of attention towards you tonight.
You needed her—envied every man who got to fawn over her delicious skin while you sat on the sidelines and waited.
Getting upset with the thought of missing her being near you, you attempted to call her over. She was with a new patron. A tall slender young man, wearing a straw hat and a nice pair of slacks. Compared to most of the men here, he looked pretty damn fine, but the way Annie shamelessly trailed her eyes down his form lit that fire in your heart again. It got even worse when she noticed you trying to get her attention, throwing you a smirk before putting a finger up to tell you to wait.
I ain’t waitin’ for shit, you thought defiantly—though you’d do whatever Annie told you if she were standing directly in front of you.
You ripped your gaze away as Annie’s hand reached across the bar top and toward the man. You circled your near empty glass around nimbly, not ready to finish it because Annie clearly wouldn’t be refilling it any time soon. It seemed she had better things to do than tend to you.
You got back to watching the room. Feeling a pull from a certain direction, you looked up to the second floor next, meeting the eye of Annie’s ex husband—Smoke Moore. You rolled your eyes and pursed your lips as he glared down at you. You refused to be the first one to look away. When he’d wandered into you and Annie’s home earlier, you were beyond upset at his assumption that you were just something to “keep Annie busy” while he was gone.
You and the root-working woman had been together for four years before Smoke decided to come back. You had picked up the broken pieces he had left and aided Annie as she sorted through everything. You found it incredibly annoying how he had tried to worm his way back into Annie’s life.
Talkin’ ‘bout some “come fry fish for us.” Bullshit.
You threw back the rest of your drink, letting the burn coat your throat as the honey notes in the Italian Wine enveloped you. Your eyes remained disdainfully on Smoke, but as a hand rapped on your shoulder, you whirled your head back to see who had the nerve to touch you.
“You must be the gorgeous woman who stole my sister-in-law away,” Stack Moore—the rowdy and full-of-life twin—asked. A sly grin stared back at you, the gold on his teeth glinting in your eyes.
“Wasn’t hard to make her mine,” you crossed your legs and raised your eyebrow. You didn’t plan on backing down from the way he looked through you like he was gathering every bit of information he could. You knew his brother probably sent him as an informant. “The two of us are meant for each other,” you concluded curtly.
“That’s funny,” he laughed shortly, dimples showing.
“And why’s that,” you shook your head. Your head quirked to the side, trying to see what he was getting at. The way he smiled annoyed you. Like he thought he was untouchable or something.
“Well, sweetheart,” he began, condescension lacing his tone, “both of y’all are here at me and my brother’s spot. And by the looks of it, not much has changed in their seven years spent apart.”
You followed his gaze behind you as you watched Smoke whisk Annie away into a storage room. His hand landed on the small of her back like it belonged there. Like seven years apart meant nothing.
Your blood boiled.
You seethed in anger.
Annie was yours and would always be yours, but by the looks of it, she needed a reminder that you didn’t need to be hers if she couldn’t give you what you wanted.
“Dance wit’ me,” you demanded, dragging Stack behind you. He laughed heartily at the anger dripping off of you, successfully having ticked you off. If you had turned around even one second later, you would have completely missed the way Smoke’s hand caressed Annie’s waist. The way she didn’t deter him.
But you saw it, and you were fuming.
You let your anger rush through you as you danced on Stack. You didn’t care who saw. Everyone knew you were Annie’s—she’d made that clear very early on. Didn’t nobody have the balls to play with her about you because she would be quick to put them in their place. But Stack had been gone, and he didn’t know the rules. You shamelessly allowed his hands to roam your body freely, drifting over your hips, pulling your back flush with his chest. Your ass ran across his crotch as you feverishly sought out attention. He more than willingly gave it.
You heard a door slam brutally, and it was like everyone in the juke joint moved real quiet. The sound of heavy heeled feet came up behind you two before you heard Stack take a gasping breath. His hands were still on your hips, too close for the raging woman’s comfort.
“Stack, I expect you better back up off my woman unless you want a nasty scar to remember me by,” Annie chewed out, blade to Stack’s neck. The music in the juke was still blaring, but eyes watched the scene unfold. You rolled yours in disgust at the way people got a kick out of it, but it was the price you were willing to pay to have Annie’s attention solely on you again.
“Damn, woman! Chill out,” the twin tried to reason, meeting your unbothered eyes in desperation. His hands went up beside his head, open-palmed and shaky.
“Ain’t no chill,” she shouted, standing broodingly behind his shoulder. “What the fuck do you think you doin’?”
You licked your lips at the way her voice carried so much power. The twin who was once walking around like he was untouchable was reduced to a shaking man. You tilted your head at the way she craned her neck at him. You remained swaying along to Delta Slim’s piano playing to pass the time.
“Shit, Annie! She asked me to dance,” he pointed the blame your way. You sighed, looking down at your nails like you had better things to do than hear his agitating voice. “Now lay off this pimpin’ ‘fore you make these folks in here think they can run up on me.” He pleaded with her, but Annie wasn’t easily persuaded when it came to you. She didn’t want to believe that you’d betrayed her—not her sweet babydoll.
“You ask him to dance wit’ you, baby,” she questioned, voice sweet and eyes watching your every move to calculate the truth in your words. You rolled your eyes and continued to move along to the music. She pressed her blade deeper at the way you avoided her question. It caused Stack to squirm against Annie’s knife as she refused to let him go.
“Y/n,” she warned with gritted teeth.
“She practically drug my ass across this floor, Annie. I swear it,” Stack cried, wriggling against her. With a swift movement, Annie grabbed ahold of his wrist and twisted his arm painfully behind his back. He erupted in a fit of curse words.
“That true, babydoll?”
You crossed your arms over your chest. You shifted your weight to your right leg, popping your hip.
“What did you expect me to do,” you raised your voice, dropping your arms to your side dramatically. She seethed at you, and even though her aggression was terrifying, it made your body tingle in arousal. “You up in here flauntin’ yo’ chest ‘round and goin’ into closets with that ex husband of yours. You ain’t once asked me to dance, Annie, so I handled it myself.”
Annie roughly pulled the knife away from his neck and pushed Stack’s body to the side. He tripped over his feet, trying to get away from her wrath.
Annie bounded towards you in just two quick steps. She threw off your breathing at the way she exhaled possessively in your face. Her chest was flush with yours, clouding your brain.
“You actin’ like I won’t bend yo’ ass over that fuckin’ bar top in front of all these people.” You bit back a whine at the way she growled into your ear. Her Louisiana accent carried a sweet yet spicy note. Her hands rested heavily on your hips. “You think I won’t wear yo’ ass out with these beads for all them to see?” The question was rhetorical, but at the mention of her blue beads, your eyes drifted down to her breasts. You adored the way they nestled there. The vision of them sprawling across your bare ass as Annie handled your attitude was heavenly. “You mine, y/n.”
“You wasn’t actin' like I was yours,” you snapped out of your reverie—back to being the sassy woman she knew and loved. It was like a game for the both of you: you act out of turn, Annie reminds you of your place.
“So you decided to act like a fuckin’ desperate slut,” she whispered with nothing but heat behind her words. She was appalled at your behavior. You couldn’t answer her, knowing by the look on her face that she was incredibly close to honoring her words.
You chewed on your bottom lip at the fluttering you felt. Your panties were clinging to you. Everything about Annie got you hot and bothered. The beads around her neck, the dip of her collarbone, the color of her skin, the fullness of her stomach and thighs, the way sweat mingled just right on her body, making her all glistening and wet.
She scoffed as you ogled her, letting your bratty nature slip away as you breathed her in like the love sick woman you were. She loved it, but she needed to remind you of how to act appropriately.
“Get yo’ shit. We goin’ home,” Annie demanded, leaving you on the dance floor in a heady state. Her tone left no room for discussion, and you quickly scrambled behind her, grabbing the things you’d left at the bar. Smoke and Stack stood near the door as Annie pushed past everyone. A deep set scowl was becoming acquainted with her lips, and everyone eyed you with pity.
But you couldn’t have been more excited for the night ahead of you.
“Don’t hurt her too bad, sister-in-law,” Stack shouted out the door with his signature dimpled smile.
“Fuck you, Elias,” she growled.
“I feel like she drew blood," Stack complained to his brother, grabbing at his neck and checking his fingers for any sign of blood. "And I can't believe you was just gon’ let her cut me like that.”
“It’s yo’ own fault for messin’ with her woman," Smoke inhaled his cigarette, watching as you got in the passenger seat of the li'l truck. A small smile graced your lips like you had just won big. He understood that smile. Annie was something to behold when she was angry and horny. He couldn't even be upset that he didn't have the hoodoo woman in his life anymore.
"You better be how I like you by the time I get in that house," Annie grumbled as y'all rounded the turn into the driveway. The entire ride home, you remained quiet, not wanting to do anything that would send her anger over the edge. You desired pleasurable pain tonight, not just full on punishment.
As she put the truck in park, you quickly got out and ran into the house. You tore off your dress and accessories almost ripping the seams in your haste. By the time you made it to your bedroom, you were in nothing but your bra, panties, and heels. You kneeled in front of the bed—just how Annie liked you.
She liked seeing you below her and at her mercy.
"Why, don't you look obedient," Annie ushered into the room seductively. Her hips swayed like she had her own tune playing with each step she took. You gazed up at her, beginning at her feet to the soft pattern of her dress to the swell of her breasts to her plump lips.
She smiled like a provocateur, making you forget—just for a second—how much trouble you were truly in.
"You was talkin' a whole lotta shit, babydoll," she reminded, her left eye twitching as she eased in closer. A soft palm connected with the underside of your chin, lifting it as she judged you menacingly. You started to open your mouth to blurt out an apology, but she stopped you in your tracks. "I don't care to hear your pathetic I'm sorry," she spat. Her grip on your face tightened as she pulled her velvet dress up and over her enticing hips. "Let's see if you can put that mouth to work the right way, doll."
You reached up with shaky hands and pulled down Annie's lace, barely-there panties. With your jaw hung open, she pulled your face into her parted thighs.
"Fuck, yes," Annie roared as your tongue made contact with her throbbing clit, soothing that ache from your brattish behavior. You hummed into her at the sweet and tangy taste of her arousal. You coated your tongue in her, stabilizing her with your hands planted firmly on her hips.
You probably loved this more than Annie did. Sitting on your knees as she stood above you and rode your face. It was phenomenal. You were built to be at her mercy.
She rutted against your face, overindulging in you as she pulled your head back by your hair. Your face directed towards the ceiling, Annie fucked herself on your mouth. Your nose brushed her clit, causing her body to shudder.
You cried out against her, your arousal peaking just from the sight, taste, and smell of her. She was overstimulating your senses in the best way.
You were desperate.
You needed to be touched.
To be handled.
Taking a hand off of her hip, you trailed it between your legs. It landed on your swollen pussy. Your body lurched forward, and you looked up to see if she had noticed, but Annie's eyes were closed and she was unsuspecting.
You discretely fingered yourself as you watched Annie close to cumming.
"Oh, babydoll," she moaned, throat heavy with desire. "You're doin' so good for me. I knew you could be my good girl." Her praise spurred you on. Your tongue and fingers moved simultaneously, pushing both of you closer to your release.
Annie wailed your name and shouted a litany of praises. The walls rattled from the height of her cries.
"Fuck, y/n,” she came seconds later. Her breath was heavy and untamed. Her hands were tangled in your hand. Her thighs clamped around your head.
"M-mommy," you cried, cumming on your own fingers at the sight of her. You shut your eyes as the orgasm traveled up and down your spine with no remorse. Your body shook so violently that you didn't even feel the way Annie snatched away from you. She eyed you in disbelief. Her mouth was open, speech caught in the back of her throat as she watched you enjoy the remnants of your climax. Your fingers slowly circled your clit to bring you back down.
"I know you ain't fuckin' my pussy," Annie barked, high completely blown at the sight of you breaking one of her cardinal rules. You opened your eyes wide, completely having forgotten where you were. Your mouth was full of the taste of Annie's sweet pussy and your fingers were covered in your own cum.
Annie ripped your hand from between your shivering legs. She looked at your glistening fingers with scorn, nostrils flared, grip tight.
"An-annie," you stuttered, crawling to the base of her feet. You clasped your hands in front of her, head directed at her face. "I'm sorry, Annie." You tried to plead with her, but it was like smoke floated out of her ears and nostrils.
"Aht, aht," she reprimanded, putting her hand up to stop you. "What's my name, y/n?" She leaned over your body, bending down so that her face was directly in front of yours. The breath left your body at the sight of her titties spilling out of her dress. You just wanted to reach out and touch her.
So you did.
“I’m so sorry, mommy,” you attempted to apologize again, using the name that made her swoon. You took both of her breasts into your hands, running your thumb over her nipples that were straining through the fabric.
Annie groaned deeply, trying her best not to give in. You had irked her far too much tonight, and her patience had waned.
“You gon’ be sorry soon enough, babydoll,” her velvety voice churned. “Get on that bed.”
As you laid on your back, head propped against a pillow, you admired the way Annie stripped from her clothes. Everything about her was so rhythmic. Like the softest of New Orleans jazz. Like Clarksdale Blues.
“You wanna tell me what yo’ problem was tonight,” Annie asked but really demanded. She stepped out of her heels slowly, putting them neatly into the designated spot in y’all’s room.
Your bottom lip quivered as you thought back on how much you craved her attention earlier, how you felt like she’d forgotten about you.
“I just missed you, Ann,” you whined as she dropped the straps of her dress. “You were prancin’ around the juke the whole night like I didn’t exist.”
“So that’s an excuse to be gyratin’ on somebody else,” her eyes bore into you. It was like she was challenging you to slip up, but behind those brown eyes of hers, you saw her remorse. That quiet tearing up in your voice was pulling at her heart.
“No, of course not! I swear, I wasn’t gon’ do anything,” you pleaded, lied. If you had found the right person, you were going to push her buttons regardless of what else happened. “Stack just came over all smug. He pointed out that you and Snoke were goin’ in that closet together.” You shook your head and looked away from her. Your anger returned, simmering low beneath the surface. “Annie, he had his hands on you. Where my hands are supposed to be. And you didn’t move ‘im away.” You folded your arms over your chest and stared at the wall ahead of you.
“Babydoll,” Annie pouted, her hand reaching out towards you, but you smacked it away.
“No!,” you shouted. “I mean, I don’t even know what y’all got up to in that room, Ann.” She looked at you in disbelief. You’d never been this jealous, and she understood that the return of Smoke had probably hit you pretty hard, but she wasn’t gonna tolerate you raising your voice at her.
“So you accusin’ me of cheatin’ now,” she quirked her head. Her eyebrow raised, and she settled a hand on her now bare hipbone. She’d ridded herself of every bit of clothing during the heat of your argument.
“No,” you replied quietly, embarrassed with your own self. You knew Annie would never do something like that to you.
“Oh, that’s what I thought,” she punctuated. She sat at the edge of the bed and faced you, letting some of that aggression in her tone fade out. She spoke earnestly. “Smoke pulled me to apologize for everything. For the years spent apart. For the lack of communication between us. For the way he treated you earlier today.”
You hummed in acknowledgment.
“He was tellin’ me that he wanted me to be happy, and that if that was with you then he wouldn’t get in the way of that. I told him of how great you are. How you been here for me and have made sure I never feel alone again.” Annie grabbed your hand, interlocking your fingers. You smiled small at the gesture and how she spoke so highly of you to the man you knew she still had love for. Annie mirrored your smile, but it rapidly shifted to something sly. “I left out how much of a brat you can be when you don’t get your way though.”
“I’m sorry,” you repented, noticing the lustful tone she carried. The room warmed up again, and you immediately recalled some of your earlier moments together. You were addicted to the lingering sweetness that coated your throat and how Annie’s body flushed out in front of you.
“It’s too late for sorry, doll. And while I sincerely apologize for not givin’ you attention and for lettin’ him touch me, you still gon’ have to get your punishment.”
You huffed at the reminder of your earlier mistakes. Now that y’all had discussed things, you felt so stupid for dancing with Stack— you couldn’t feel remorseful about making yourself cum though. Annie was just too irresistible.
“Don’t worry, baby,” Annie assured, placing feather-light kisses up the column of your neck and around the shell of your ear. She bit into your earlobe, pulling moans out of your mouth. “I’ll make it worth your while.”
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
taglist: comment HERE to be added!
tagged folks are down in the replies!!













