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It was awkward living in the home of your ex-boyfriend, but not as much as it could have been considering Tony Stark's home was huge. You practically had your own separate wing for God's sake, and despite now being exes after nearly three years of dating, the two of you were actually on quite good terms.
The break up had been mutual. It had gradually been getting more and more painfully obvious that the only thing keeping the two of you together was wonderful, rough, and heated sex. There were no more long, late night conversations in his lab, no more fun and social outings to all types of conventions and galas and events he helped fund, no more date nights at your favorite burger joint. Even the hugs and kisses felt bland and forced. It was sad and scary to suddenly be single again after having been convinced for so long that Tony was going to be your husband one day, but you knew you would be alright. The two of you had shared a surprisingly mature conversation about the matter; he was just as heartbroken as you were, but he told you that he would always love you, even if it may be in a different way than before.
For the most part, you did not see much of each other despite staying in the same home. He was often working, as were you, and during the nights he would be slaving away in his lab on God knows what. The only reason you were still there was because you were still in the process of moving your things out; you would stay at your friend's place until you found an apartment of your own. Tony had offered to buy you a place himself, but you had assured him it was alright. The two of you may have been friends, but you did not want to have to rely on him.
You had stepped out of the shower, wrapping your towel around your figure when you realized you had completely forgotten to get your laundry. Stepping out into your bedroom, you practically ransacked the dresser looking for something, but to no avail. A lot of your clothes were already packed up in boxes and ready to be moved. With a light sigh, you headed for the laundry room, holding your towel around yourself. It was around 9 PM, meaning Tony would most likely still be at work anyways. Not that this was anything he hadn't seen before.
Too lazy to retrieve all of your clothes, you simply pulled out what you needed. A bra, thong, tank, and sleep shorts– nothing fancy, and besides, most if not all of this would probably come off by the time you were ready to sleep, anyways. It was then you heard Tony's voice from the hallway, his footsteps approaching the laundry room probably having seen the light turned on. "Hey, Y/N, I'm glad I caught ya– I wanted to talk to you abo-" he began, then instantly paused when he stepped inside the room, brown eyes now focused on your towel wearing frame. "Oh. Well, hello to you too." He muttered, and you bit your lip, laughing awkwardly. "Sorry, forgot my clothes. Here, I'll just go change and then–" you started to say, but as you were trying to move around him you dropped one of the articles of clothing in your hand; looking down, you scoffed silently in disbelief.
