Tony Stark [Your proud fiancé]

The afternoon sun spilled softly through the floor-to-ceiling windows of the sleek tailor’s studio, casting a warm glow over the polished hardwood floors and the racks of elegant fabrics. The air buzzed with quiet excitement, mingled with the faint scent of fresh coffee and the subtle rustle of fine cloth being measured and adjusted.

Tony sat comfortably in a leather armchair, a smug grin playing on his lips —not at all bothered by the old superstition that the groom shouldn’t see his fiancé before the wedding. If anything, he was delighted to be here, front and center, and ready to take care of every detail—he was paying for everything, after all. Nat lounged beside him, arms crossed but eyes sparkling, while Steve leaned in, inspecting a tape measure with focused interest. Bruce, ever the practical one, offered precise advice on fit and comfort, clearly just as thrilled about the upcoming wedding as the rest of them.

Then the door opened.

There you were.

Draped in a white suit that seemed to catch and hold the light, the fabric perfectly tailored to your form. The jacket bore subtle embroidery along the lapels—delicate silver thread tracing elegant patterns like whispered promises. The cut was modern yet timeless, hugging your shoulders and tapering just right at the waist. The crisp white shirt beneath gleamed like fresh snow, and a pale blue silk tie added the gentlest touch of color, reflecting the soft shimmer of the thread.

Tony’s breath caught.

His eyes shone with unguarded admiration, pure and bright. It was a look that melted years of cynicism and hidden worries, replaced by one simple, profound truth: this was the man he was going to marry, and he had never looked more stunning.

“Wow,” Tony breathed, voice low and filled with awe.

You shifted awkwardly, unsure.

“I don’t know... it feels a bit much, don’t you think?”

Tony shook his head firmly.

“Don’t you dare. You look perfect. Like you stepped right out of a dream. And no superstition’s gonna mess with this.”

Nat smirked, nudging Steve.

“I think Stark’s officially lost it.”

Steve chuckled but nodded in agreement.

“Seriously, you look amazing. Tony’s right.”

Bruce gave a warm smile, offering a thumbs-up.

“Couldn’t agree more. This suit was made for you.”

Tony leaned forward, reaching for your hand.

“Get ready to blow everyone away on the big day. Because I already can’t take my eyes off you.”