#im2

Pepper Potts has always loved Tony Stark—dangerously so. It’s a love that burns too bright, too possessive, too desperate. She remembers the early days when she was just his assistant, cleaning up his messes, organizing his chaos, and secretly wishing he would see her as more than just the woman who kept his life in order. She waited, patient and calculating, believing that one day he would realize she was the only one who truly understood him. And when she became CEO of Stark Industries, she thought that day had finally come.

But Tony Stark is nothing if not unpredictable.

He doesn’t see the way Pepper’s fingers linger when she hands him reports, doesn’t notice the sharp edge in her voice when she reminds him of meetings he’s missed, doesn’t catch the way her eyes darken when he flirts with someone else. To him, Pepper is brilliant, capable, indispensable—but not his. Not in the way she wants to be. He’s oblivious, wrapped up in his own world of inventions and near-death experiences, never realizing that the woman who runs his company would tear the world apart if it meant having him for herself.

And then you arrive.

You’re the new personal assistant, handpicked by Pepper herself—though she’ll soon regret that decision. You’re efficient, quick-witted, and unafraid of Tony’s sarcasm. The first time you meet, he’s in the middle of dismantling a prototype in his workshop, grease smeared across his cheek, music blaring so loud the walls vibrate. You don’t flinch when he ignores your greeting, just walk over to the control panel and turn the volume down yourself.

Tony pauses, wrench in hand, and finally looks at you. "Who are you?"

"Your new PA," you say, unfazed. "Y/N. Pepper hired me."

He raises an eyebrow, intrigued. Most people either stammer or snap at him—you do neither. "You any good?"

"I guess you’ll find out."

And just like that, he’s interested.

It starts small—a joke here, a shared eye-roll there. He likes the way you don’t tiptoe around him, the way you match his energy without trying too hard. You bring him coffee exactly how he likes it, remember his meetings before he does, and somehow manage to keep up with his rapid-fire thoughts. Before long, he’s seeking you out, not just for work, but because he enjoys your company.

Pepper notices.

At first, she tells herself it’s nothing. Tony has always been charming, always had a way of making people feel special. But then she sees the way he looks at you—like you’re a puzzle he can’t wait to solve. She hears the laughter drifting from his workshop, the easy banter between meetings. And worst of all, she sees the way you look back at him—like he’s more than just the genius, billionaire, playboy, philanthropist. Like he’s just Tony.

It makes her blood boil.

She tries to reclaim his attention—scheduling unnecessary meetings, dropping by his office with thinly veiled excuses, even dressing sharper, smiling brighter. But Tony is already slipping away, his focus shifting to you in a way it never did for her.

And then it happens.

One late night in the lab, after hours of working side by side, Tony turns to you and says, "You know, I could get used to this."

"Used to what?" you ask, though you already know.

"Having you around."

The words hang between you, charged and undeniable. And when he kisses you, it’s not the careless flirtation Pepper is used to—it’s real.

By the time Pepper realizes what’s happening, it’s too late. Tony is in love with you. And you? You’re in love with him.

And she’ll do anything to tear you apart.

---

Pepper’s attempts to reclaim Tony’s attention start subtly—just enough to make you question if you’re imagining things. She lingers too close when discussing company matters, laughs a little too brightly at his jokes, and always seems to appear just as the two of you are sharing a quiet moment. At first, you brush it off. Pepper is his friend, his former assistant, his CEO. Of course, they’re close.

But then the comments start.

"Tony always hated it when people rearranged his tools—just a heads-up." (Even though he’d just praised you for organizing his workspace.)

"He never takes anyone seriously who doesn’t challenge him intellectually." (Said after you’d spent hours debating engineering concepts with him.)

"You know, he gets bored easily." (Whispered just as Tony was smiling at you from across the room, looking anything but bored.)

You don’t say anything to Tony. You don’t want to seem jealous or paranoid. But the tension builds, and Pepper’s tactics grow bolder—suddenly needing him for "urgent" meetings when he’s with you, "accidentally" scheduling you for conflicting appointments so you miss time together, even making pointed remarks about how replaceable assistants are.

Tony, for all his genius, is oblivious.

Until the night he finds you crying in the hallway outside his lab.

You hadn’t meant to break down—you were stronger than this. But Pepper’s latest barb had cut deep: "He’ll always come back to me in the end. I’m the one who knows him best."

Tony stops dead when he sees you. "Y/N?" His voice is uncharacteristically soft. "What’s wrong?"

You try to wave it off, but he won’t let you. He cups your face, thumbs brushing away your tears, and when you finally admit what’s been happening, his expression darkens.

"She’s been doing what?"

The next day, he confronts Pepper. You don’t hear the argument, but you see the aftermath—her storming out of his office, eyes blazing. And from that moment on, Tony makes his choice very clear.

He doesn’t just defend you—he chooses you.

He takes you out on real dates, not just stolen moments between meetings. He introduces you as his girlfriend at company events, his fingers laced with yours, daring anyone to question it. And when Pepper tries one last time to sabotage things—sending you on a fake assignment to another country—Tony shuts it down immediately, pulling you into his arms and murmuring, "You’re not going anywhere."

It’s not long before he’s sliding a ring onto your finger, kissing you in front of the entire world, and grinning like a man who’s just won the best prize in the universe.

Pepper watches from the sidelines, her face unreadable.

But you don’t care.

Because Tony Stark is yours.

And when you find out you’re pregnant, he drops to his knees right there in the lab, pressing his forehead against your stomach, whispering promises to both of you.

Pepper may have loved him first.

But you’re the one he loves now.

---

The moment you tell Tony you’re pregnant, his entire world shifts. You see it in his eyes—the way they go impossibly soft, the way his hands tremble just slightly as they cradle your face. He kisses you like you’re something sacred, murmurs promises against your lips, and from that day forward, he’s different.

Gone is the careless playboy, the man who used to smirk his way through life like nothing could touch him. Now, he hovers. He frets. He brings you breakfast in bed, rubs your feet after long days, and talks to your belly like the baby can already hear him.

"You’re going to be so loved," he whispers, his palm pressed gently against your still-flat stomach. "So, so loved."

You’ve never seen him like this—so open, so tender. It makes your heart ache in the best way.

But Pepper watches.

And she hates it.

You don’t realize how deep her resentment runs until the day Tony comes home with storm in his eyes. He’s quiet, too quiet, and when you reach for him, he doesn’t pull you close like usual.

"Tony?" you ask, your voice small.

He exhales sharply, running a hand over his face. "We need to talk."

Your stomach drops.

Pepper has planted her poison carefully. Fake messages. Edited security footage. A fabricated story about you and some nameless Stark employee, all designed to make Tony doubt the one thing he’s ever been sure of—you.

At first, he refused to believe it. But Pepper is smart. She knows his insecurities, knows how to twist the knife just right. "You really think someone that perfect would stay faithful? Come on, Tony. You’re not that naive."

And now he’s standing in front of you, jaw clenched, looking like his entire world is crumbling.

"Tell me it’s not true," he says, his voice rough.

Your breath catches. "What?"

"Pepper showed me—" He stops, like the words physically hurt him. "She said you’ve been… with someone else. That the baby might not be mine."

The room spins.

You reach for him, desperate. "Tony, no. No. You know I would never—"

"Do I?" The words are quiet, dangerous. "Because the evidence is pretty damn convincing."

There’s no anger in his voice. Just pain. And that’s worse.

You want to scream, to shake him, to make him see. But the man in front of you isn’t the Tony who whispers love into your skin. This is the Tony who’s been betrayed too many times, the one who’s waiting for the other shoe to drop.

And Pepper has made sure it does.

"I think… we need some time apart," he says finally, his voice hollow.

You feel the crack in your chest before you even process the words. "Tony, please. You know me. You know I would never hurt you like this."

His eyes flicker—just for a second—like part of him wants to believe you. But then his walls slam back up.

"I need to be sure," he says. And then he walks out.

The door clicks shut behind him.

And for the first time since he kissed you in his lab, you feel truly alone.

Pepper has won.

For now.

---

The days after Tony walks out are a blur of numbness and pain.

You try calling him. He doesn’t answer.

You send texts, long paragraphs pouring your heart out, begging him to listen. They go unread.

You even go to the Tower, only to be stopped by security—"Mr. Stark’s orders."

Pepper’s victory is absolute.

The worst part is the baby. His baby. The one he had been so excited for, the one he had whispered promises to in the dark. Now, every time you feel the faintest flutter in your stomach, it’s a reminder of what you’ve lost.

You can’t stay in New York. Not when every corner of the city reminds you of him. Not when Pepper’s smug smile lingers in the back of your mind.

So you pack your things.

It’s raining the day you leave. Fitting, really. The sky cries the tears Tony refuses to shed. You take one last look at the penthouse—the home you had started to build with him—before closing the door behind you.

Your parents welcome you with open arms, but their worried glances don’t escape you. They don’t ask questions, not yet. They just let you collapse into your childhood bed, your body wracked with silent sobs.

That night, you dream of him.

Tony’s laughter. Tony’s hands tracing patterns on your skin. Tony’s voice, low and tender, murmuring "I love you" against your lips.

You wake up gasping, your cheeks wet.

Reality crashes back down.

He doesn’t love you anymore.

He doesn’t even trust you.

And that… that breaks you more than anything else.

You press a hand to your stomach, choking back another wave of tears.

"I’m so sorry, little one," you whisper. "Daddy… Daddy doesn’t want us anymore."

Somewhere, miles away, Tony stares at a half-built crib in his workshop, his chest hollow.

And Pepper?

She smiles.

----

Months pass.

The sharp edges of your heartbreak dull into a constant, aching throb. You learn to live with it, to breathe around it. Some days are easier. Some days, you wake up reaching for him, only to remember all over again that he’s gone.

But then Nova arrives.

Your beautiful, perfect baby girl—with Tony’s dark lashes, his expressive eyebrows, even the same little crease in her forehead when she’s fussy. She’s a tiny piece of him, and it hurts so much you can barely stand it.

But you love her more than anything.

Your parents, who had never fully trusted Tony (his reputation as a reckless playboy had always made them wary), now despise him completely. They don’t say it outright, but you see it in the way your father’s jaw tightens at the mention of his name, the way your mother’s voice goes sharp when she mutters about "that man" under her breath.

Still, they adore Nova.

Your father, who had always been stoic, melts the first time he holds her. Your mother spends hours rocking her, humming lullabies you haven’t heard since you were a child. They become the perfect grandparents—patient, doting, fiercely protective.

And you? You throw yourself into motherhood.

Nova becomes your entire world. You memorize the sound of her giggles, the way her tiny fingers curl around yours, the warmth of her little body pressed against your chest as she sleeps. You tell her stories—safe ones, happy ones—never mentioning the father who doesn’t even know she exists.

You wonder, sometimes, if Tony ever thinks about you. If he ever wonders about the baby.

But then you remember the coldness in his eyes when he walked away, and you force yourself to stop.

Meanwhile, in New York, Pepper’s manipulation deepens.

She’s careful, calculated. She doesn’t push too hard, doesn’t make it obvious. Instead, she weaves herself into Tony’s life, filling the spaces you left behind.

"You’re better off without her," she murmurs when she finds him staring blankly at the crib he never finished building.

"She would have just dragged you down," she says when he snaps at his team for no reason, his temper shorter than ever.

And Tony, lost in his own guilt and grief, doesn’t question it.

He throws himself into work, into missions, into anything that keeps him from thinking about you. The few times someone dares to bring you up, he shuts them down immediately.

"Don’t."

He doesn’t want to hear it. Doesn’t want to remember.

Because if he lets himself think about you—about the baby—he might break.

And Pepper?

She watches, satisfied.

She won.

At least, that’s what she thinks.

---

Two years.

Two years since you last saw Tony. Two years since your heart shattered into pieces. Two years of learning how to live without him.

Nova is your light.

She’s growing so fast—already running on tiny, unsteady legs, babbling in that sweet, nonsensical way toddlers do. She has Tony’s mischievous grin, his expressive eyes, and an energy that never seems to fade. Your parents adore her, spoiling her with love and laughter.

Life is… peaceful.

Not what you dreamed of, but good.

Until fate intervenes.

Tony doesn’t know why he agreed to this business trip.

Pepper had insisted—some merger that required his personal attention. He’s been distant lately, even with her. Their engagement feels hollow, a decision made out of exhaustion rather than love. But he goes through the motions, because what else is there?

Then, during a rare moment of solitude, he wanders into a small park near his hotel.

And that’s when he sees her.

A little girl, no older than two, with wild curls and a bright pink sunhat. She’s crouched in the grass, utterly fascinated by a ladybug crawling on her tiny finger.

Tony slows, watching her. There’s something… familiar about her.

She looks up, and her eyes—his eyes—lock onto him.

"Hi!" she chirps, waving enthusiastically.

Tony blinks. "Uh. Hi."

The kid scrambles to her feet, toddling over with zero hesitation. "I’m Nova!"

"Nova," he repeats, the name settling strangely in his chest. "Cool name."

She grins, and god, that smile. It tugs at something deep inside him. "You have a beard," she announces, reaching up like she’s going to poke it.

Tony instinctively leans back, but he’s smiling now. "Yeah, I do. You like it?"

Nova nods seriously. "It’s scratchy."

He barks out a laugh. "Yeah, it is."

She tilts her head, studying him with an intensity that feels far too knowing for a toddler. "You look sad."

Tony freezes.

Before he can respond, a voice cuts through the air—a voice he hasn’t heard in years but would recognize anywhere.

"Nova! Where are you, sweetheart?"

His heart stops.

And then you appear, hurrying down the path, your eyes widening in horror when you see who your daughter is talking to.

Time stops.

Tony stares at you. You stare back.

Nova, oblivious, beams and points. "Mama! Look! I found a beard man!"

You swallow hard, your hands trembling as you scoop her up. "I see that, baby."

Tony’s gaze flicks between you and Nova—his nose, his smile, his eyes—and realization slams into him like a freight train.

Oh.

Oh no.

Nova tugs on your sleeve. "Mama, do you know him?"

Your throat tightens. You can’t lie to her, but you can’t tell the truth either.

"...Yes," you whisper. "A long time ago."

Tony’s expression shatters.

And just like that, the past crashes into the present.

The air between you and Tony is thick with unspoken words. Nova, sensing the tension, clings to you a little tighter.

“We need to talk,” Tony says, his voice rough.

You hesitate. You don’t want this—don’t want to reopen old wounds in front of your daughter. But the look in his eyes tells you he won’t let this go.

“Not here,” you murmur, glancing down at Nova.

Tony follows your gaze, his expression softening as he takes in her curious little face. He reaches out, almost instinctively, but stops himself. “Right. Yeah.”

You take Nova back to your parents’ house, leaving her in their care with a kiss on her forehead. She doesn’t understand why you look so upset, but she pats your cheek with her tiny hand. “Mama okay?”

You force a smile. “Mama’s fine, sweetheart.”

Then you step outside, where Tony is waiting.

The café is quiet, nearly empty. You sit across from him, your hands wrapped around a mug you don’t drink from.

Tony doesn’t waste time. “She’s mine.”

It’s not a question.

You exhale shakily. “Yes.”

His jaw clenches. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

The question stings. “I tried, Tony. You wouldn’t listen. You believed Pepper over me.”

He flinches. “I—I didn’t know.”

“You didn’t want to know,” you fire back, your voice breaking. “You walked away and never looked back.”

Tony runs a hand through his hair, frustration and guilt warring in his expression. “I’m engaged to Pepper now.”

The words hit like a physical blow. You knew it was coming—had seen the headlines—but hearing it from him? It still rips through you.

“Congratulations,” you say flatly.

Tony’s eyes narrow. “You don’t mean that.”

“What do you want me to say, Tony?” You laugh bitterly. “That I’m happy for you? After everything?”

He leans forward, his voice dropping. “I just—I need to know. One last time. Did you cheat on me?”

You stare at him, your heart shattering all over again. Even now, after all this time, he still doubts you.

“No,” you say, your voice steady despite the ache in your chest. “I loved you. Only you.”

Tony searches your face, as if looking for any hint of a lie.

And for the first time, something flickers in his eyes—doubt. Not in you.

In Pepper.

Back in New York, Tony does what he should have done years ago.

He digs.

Pepper’s lies unravel quickly under his scrutiny. The fabricated messages? Traced back to an untraceable server—one linked to her private accounts. The “security footage” of you with another man? Edited. Poorly, once he looks closely.

And then he finds the final nail in the coffin—an email from Pepper to a private investigator, instructing him to "find anything, real or not, to break them apart."

Tony sits in his workshop, staring at the evidence, his blood running cold.

He’d let her manipulate him.

He’d abandoned you.

He’d missed two years of his daughter’s life.

The guilt is crushing.

But more than that?

The rage.

Pepper walks in, smiling, unaware of the storm brewing. “Tony? The wedding planner—”

“We’re done.” His voice is ice.

She freezes. “What?”

Tony stands, tossing the files onto the table between them. “I know what you did.”

Pepper’s face pales as she sees the evidence. “Tony, I can explain—”

“Get out.”

“You don’t understand—”

“GET OUT!”

She flinches, but Tony doesn’t care.

He has one thought, one mission.

Fix this.

You’re putting Nova to bed when the knock comes.

Your father answers, his voice sharp. “You.”

Tony’s reply is quiet but firm. “I need to see her.”

You step into the hallway, your heart pounding. Tony looks wrecked—his eyes red-rimmed, his shoulders slumped.

But his voice is steady.

“I know the truth,” he says. “And I’m so, so sorry.”

You don’t move.

Tony swallows hard. “I don’t expect you to forgive me. But I’m here. For Nova. For you. If you’ll let me.”

Nova’s sleepy voice floats from her room. “Mama? Beard man back?”

Tony’s breath catches.

And just like that, the walls around your heart crack.

Because no matter how much he hurt you…

She deserves her father.

You step aside.

“Come meet your daughter, Tony.”

---

Nova sits cross-legged on her bed, blinking sleepily as Tony steps into the room. She tilts her head, studying him with those big, curious eyes—his eyes—and then grins. "Beard man!"

Tony's throat tightens. He crouches beside her bed, his hands trembling slightly as he brushes a curl from her forehead. "Hey, kiddo."

You stand in the doorway, arms crossed, heart pounding. This moment feels surreal—like something you dreamed of a thousand times but never thought would actually happen.

Nova reaches out, patting Tony's scruffy cheek. "You came back."

"Yeah," Tony whispers, voice rough. "I did."

You step forward, sitting on the edge of the bed. "Nova, sweetheart, remember how we talked about your daddy?"

She nods, swinging her little legs. "Daddy far away."

You take a deep breath. "Well... he's not far away anymore."

Tony's gaze flicks to you, surprised, grateful.

Nova gasps. "You my daddy?"

Tony swallows hard. "Yeah, baby. I'm your daddy."

For a second, no one moves. Then Nova throws her arms around his neck with a squeal. "Daddy! Daddy home!"

Tony hugs her tightly, his face buried in her hair, shoulders shaking. You have to look away, blinking back tears.

Winning back your parents is harder.

Your father glares when Tony walks into the living room, Nova perched happily on his hip. "So. You're back."

Tony sets Nova down, letting her scamper off to play before facing your parents. "Sir, I—"

"Don't 'sir' me," your dad snaps. "You broke my daughter's heart. You abandoned your child. And now you waltz back in like nothing happened?"

Tony doesn't flinch. "You're right. I messed up. Worse than messed up. But I love them. And I'm going to prove it."

Your mother crosses her arms. "How?"

"However long it takes," Tony says, looking at you. "A day. A year. Forever. I'm not leaving again."

You bite your lip, torn between hope and fear.

Nova chooses that moment to barrel back in, clutching a crayon drawing. "Look! I drawed Daddy!"

The crude stick figure has an exaggerated beard and a big smile. Tony takes it like it's priceless art. "This is going in my office. Right next to my Nobel Prize."

Nova giggles. "What's a No-bell Prize?"

Tony grins. "Something way less important than this."

Your mother's stern expression cracks, just a little.

The days that follow are a whirlwind.

Tony is everywhere—helping with bath time, reading bedtime stories, letting Nova "fix" his watch with her toy tools. He soaks up every second with her, like he's trying to memorize it all.

With you, he's careful. No grand gestures, no empty promises. Just quiet, steady presence.

He brings you coffee in the morning, just the way you like it.

He washes the dishes after dinner without being asked.

He sits with you on the porch after Nova's asleep, talking about everything and nothing, like he's relearning the sound of your voice.

One night, as fireflies flicker in the yard, Tony turns to you. "I don't deserve either of you."

You study his profile—the tired lines around his eyes, the new gray in his beard. "Maybe not," you admit. "But Nova loves you. And I... I could learn to trust you again."

Tony reaches for your hand, hesitating just before contact. You close the gap, threading your fingers through his.

His breath catches. "That's all I need."

Nova's laughter floats through the open window as she dreams.

And for the first time in years, you let yourself believe in happy endings.

---

The weeks pass in a warm, sunlit haze—mornings filled with Nova’s delighted squeals when Tony carries her downstairs, afternoons spent in the backyard as she "helps" him tinker with gadgets (mostly handing him the wrong tools while he pretends they’re exactly what he needed), and evenings where the three of you curl up together, Nova snug between you as Tony reads her favorite stories with ridiculous voices.

She adores him.

And Tony?

Tony is wrapped around her tiny finger.

You catch him staring at her sometimes, his expression so full of awe it makes your chest ache. Like he can’t believe she’s real. Like he can’t believe he almost missed this.

One night, as you tuck Nova into bed, she clutches Tony’s sleeve. "Daddy stay forever?"

Tony’s breath hitches. He presses a kiss to her forehead. "Yeah, baby. Forever."

She grins, satisfied, and drifts off to sleep still holding his hand.

With you, Tony is patient. Careful. He doesn’t push, doesn’t rush. But slowly, the walls between you crumble.

It’s in the way he brushes his fingers against yours when you pass him a coffee.

The way he pulls you close during Nova’s chaotic dance parties in the living room, his laughter warm in your ear.

The way he looks at you when he thinks you don’t notice—like you’re the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen.

One evening, as you wash dishes side by side, his shoulder bumps yours. "You’re happy?"

You glance at him, surprised. "Yeah. I am."

Tony nods, his gaze drifting to where Nova is sprawled on the rug, coloring furiously. "Me too."

Simple words. But they mean everything.

Pepper’s apology comes on a rainy afternoon.

Tony had warned you. "You don’t have to see her. But she will face what she did."

You agreed, if only for closure.

Pepper looks nothing like the polished CEO you remember. Her hair is limp, her eyes shadowed. When she speaks, her voice is hollow.

"I’m sorry."

You don’t forgive her. Not yet. Maybe not ever. But you nod, because Nova is playing in the next room, and you refuse to let bitterness take root in your life again.

Tony’s hand finds yours, squeezing gently. Then he turns to Pepper, his expression cold. "The authorities are waiting."

As she’s led away, you exhale, feeling a weight lift from your shoulders.

Tony pulls you into his arms. "It’s over."

You bury your face in his chest, breathing him in.

Nova toddles in then, clutching her favorite stuffed Iron Man toy. "Daddy! Up!"

Tony scoops her up effortlessly, pressing a kiss to her cheek before leaning down to brush one against your lips.

And just like that, the last of the shadows fade.

Later, when Nova is asleep and the house is quiet, Tony slides a small box across the kitchen table.

You open it with trembling hands.

Not an engagement ring.

A family ring—three intertwined bands, one for each of you.

"Whenever you’re ready," Tony murmurs.

You slip it onto your finger.

It fits perfectly.

---

Moving into Stark Tower feels like stepping into a new life—one you never thought you’d have again. The penthouse is different now, brighter, filled with toys and tiny shoes left haphazardly by the door. Nova’s laughter echoes through the halls as she races from room to room, her little feet pounding against the floor as she explores her new home with wide-eyed wonder. Tony follows her everywhere, letting her "test" his tech (which mostly consists of her smashing buttons and giggling when lights flash) and watching her with a softness in his eyes that still makes your breath catch.

The media, of course, loses its collective mind.

STARK’S SHOCKING REUNION! TONY STARK REMARRIES EX-WIFE—SECRET LOVE CHILD REVEALED!

The headlines scream from every tabloid, paparazzi swarming the Tower’s entrance for days. Tony handles it with surprising patience, giving one carefully worded press statement before shutting it all down—but not before the world gets a glimpse of Nova in his arms during a rare public outing, her tiny hands clutching his face as she babbles something only he seems to understand. The photo goes viral instantly—Tony Stark, Billionaire Playboy, Completely Smitten by Toddler Daughter.

You and Tony don’t rush the wedding.

You’ve already been married once. You’ve already had the grand spectacle. This time, it’s just the three of you in the Tower’s private garden, Nova twirling in her little white dress between you as Tony slips the ring back onto your finger. His hands are steady, but his voice wavers when he says, "I’ll spend the rest of my life making it up to you."

You believe him.

Because every morning since you moved in, you’ve woken up to coffee and breakfast in bed—just like he used to do when you were first married. Because he still looks at you like you’re the most incredible thing he’s ever seen, his fingers brushing against yours whenever you’re close enough. Because he spends hours on the floor with Nova, building block towers just to let her knock them down, his laughter mingling with hers in a way that makes your heart ache.

He’s trying. Really trying.

And it’s working.

Nova adjusts faster than you expected. She loves the Tower—loves the "big windows!" and the "fast elevator!" and especially the fact that Daddy’s workshop is now her playground. Tony, who once banned everyone from touching his tools, lets her stack screws into precarious piles and "fix" his suits with a plastic wrench. FRIDAY adores her, playing nursery rhymes on command and dimming the lights when she naps. The Avengers, once wary of Tony’s sudden family life, are quickly won over by Nova’s enthusiastic hugs and Tony’s uncharacteristic softness around her.

But it’s the quiet moments that undo you.

Like when Tony carries a sleepy Nova to bed after movie night, her head tucked under his chin, his voice a low murmur as he tells her a story about a princess who was also an engineer.

Like when you catch him watching old videos of her on his phone—footage he missed, moments he’ll never get back—his thumb brushing over the screen like he’s committing it all to memory.

Like when he pulls you close in the kitchen, his lips finding yours in a kiss that still feels like coming home, Nova’s giggles ringing out as she tugs on his pant leg. "Daddy! My turn!"

He lifts her up, peppering her face with kisses before leaning in to press one to your lips too.

"My girls," he murmurs, like it’s the greatest title he’s ever held.

The media can speculate all they want. The world can whisper about your whirlwind reunion. But here, in this little corner of the universe you’ve rebuilt together, none of it matters.

Tony’s hand in yours. Nova’s arms around both of you.

This is everything.

And this time, you’re not letting go.

maybe y/n forgave him too quickly? ik but I couldn't take it anymore with the angst so forgive me...