. ˚ · • . ° . ✧.* - : ̗̀➛ 【 🩰 🏹 ☁️ 】
ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ talkin' 'bout my girl. . .
██████████████
𝙄𝙉 𝙒𝙃𝙄𝘾𝙃. . . an eight year old girl
stands on Tony Starks doorstep,
claiming to be his daughter, altering
his entire life...
▃▃▃▃ ༊*·˚ ⋆▃▃▃▃ MARVEL ──── ❝ tell me a bedtime story.❞
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CHAPTER THREE .ೃ࿐, marvel *ೃ༄ ﹌﹌﹌ღ ‗ ❍ . . . . .🧸🩰 •◦• ACT ONE ────────────────────
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✧.*
CARMEN FELT HER STOMACH rumble as she inched towards the kitchen, and she didn't hesitate before skipping towards the fridge, her fingers curling around the handle before it prying it open. the eight year old almost gasped as the fridge was slammed shut, and she glanced up to see her father hovering near her small figure.
"please, don't touch anything." he cleared his throat with a stern expression. Carmon huffed loudly as he lightly pushed her, "stand right here."
Tony wasn't the healthiest eater in the world. he loved junk food. and booze. it was the perfect combination for the billionaire. he didn't even consider the fact that now that a kid was in the mix, meals would be a little harder to provide. he would order Pepper to put something together, but the woman was too busy arranging his schedule.
"todays Tuesday, and I'm really craving some tacos. how about you? take out sound good?" he began to shuffle through cabinets and searched for plates whilst muttering to himself. Carmen leaned into her hip and crossed her small arms over her chest.
"what?" she lolled her head, "do you have any jell-o? I want some jell-o." she faced the fridge once again and pried it open before Tony moved to close it.
"like I said, please don't touch. fingerprints. I don't like fingerprints." he grabbed her shoulders and adjusted her stance. Carmen folded her lips inward, her big brown eyes following his figure as he trotted through the kitchen.
"stand right here don't do anything. look, I'm not giving you Jell-o, alright? I don't do simple sugars in this house." he itched his nose before grabbing a few plates.
"but, I'm a kid and kids love sugar." Carmel rolled her eyes.
