𝕵𝖔𝖐𝖊𝖗 𝕴𝖒𝖆𝖌𝖎𝖓𝖊𝖘

13|Not Your Barbie Girl|💋

ɴᴏᴡ ᴘʟᴀʏɪɴɢ: Not Your Barbie Girl by Ava Max ───────────────⚪─────────────────── ◄◄⠀▐▐ ⠀►►⠀⠀ ⠀ 1:17 / 3:48 ⠀ ───○ 🔊⠀ ᴴᴰ ⚙ ❐ ⊏⊐

You're and independent woman, and although in a way he was used to that since his relationship with Harley, you, ooh were at a whole new level.

You had your own house, car, a nice lump of money, you could take care of your self. To be honest you really didn't need him, well you needed him as far as relationship wise, but other than that, he couldn't dictate your life, and it kinda bothered him.

He was The Clown Prince of Crime, The Joker, The Most Feared man in Gotham, hell, maybe even the world.

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"Hey, Doll? I need you to come to the club with me and- What the fuck are ya doing?" He walked into the bedroom, expecting you to have on one of your oversized T-shirts, laying in bed waiting for him.

But instead, you were getting ready to go out...without him. "I'm getting ready, J. What does it Look like?" You chucked, putting in your large hoop earrings.

He smiled. "Oh, you already knew daddy wanted ya to come with him, your clever baby, and you look good." You giggled as he looked you up and down, licking his lips. Your outfit was beautiful, no one could deny that.

"Aw, I'm sorry baby, I not going to the club with you, I'm going to a house party, with my friend Jayla, you remember her don't you?" You said touching up your makeup.

His face fell at your words. "Yea, I fucking remember her, but you're not fucking going, especially not like that." He scoffed.

You rolled your eyes. "You just said I looked good, J." You we're beyond annoyed at this point.

"I know what I fucking said." He seethed through gritted teeth. "But you're not going anywhere like that without me around."

You turned off to look at him. "And why the fuck not, J. You really fucking kill me. What? You think some one might try to fuck me or something. I'm not that fucking gullible, J. Or do you think I'm some whore, oh don't worry, I'm not like you. I keep my legs closed and my fucking pussy to myself. And you're not my fucking father, I'm fucking grown, I do what I want, now move."

You pushed him aside, walking downstairs m, grabbing your purse from the side table, leaving him standing there baffled. No one ever dared to cross him. You walked out the door of the house feeling like a bad bitch, and just to be petty, you sent a text to his phone.