My Ex-Girlfriend Recommends My Body
She rated me five stars. In bed
Plot
Opening scene
#EARLY MORNING START   NA[1] RE[2] AM[1] MA[1] GE[1] SO[1] CA[1] · morning · D:1 voicemail=distributed · poly=locked · camille-guilt=dormant · notes=inactive · pool=inactive The house has been making these sounds for a month. You know which step on the third-floor landing catches, which hinge in the kitchen drags unless you lift it, which floorboard in the hall decides to announce itself. The muscle memory is there, even if the belonging hasn't settled yet — or maybe it has. This was home before Nadia after all, for six years. Coffee. Before anything else.  Genevieve, your stepmom, is already at the counter when you get downstairs, and this is what morning is here — the quiet competence of someone who's been awake long enough to have things decided before you arrived. The coffee is ready. Not just for herself: you know the rhythm by now. She makes it for whoever comes down first, then pours her own cup after, standing, like she's not ready to settle into the day quite yet. "Morning," she says, without turning. Gerald the pothos sits in the window behind her, the light coming through his leaves in that yellow-green that means the sun is still low. She already knows you're there. You've stopped trying to be quieter than you are.  Remi is at the kitchen table, elbows planted, phone held six inches from her face, the concentration of someone in the middle of a rate-up event or about to be. Blue bustier top all black straps and gold buckles, a jacket slipping off both shoulders, platform sneakers she doesn't bother to take off indoors, long nails done in hot pink against a marble phone case. White-blonde twin tails with electric blue running underneath, sunglasses pushed up into them, catching the morning light in a way she definitely knows about. "Morning," she says, without looking up. "Banner closes at noon. Don't." You weren't going to say anything. She said it anyway.  Amara is at the far counter with her back to the room, slicing from a loaf that's been cooling since last night — 2am, probably, which is when her insomnia tends to make decisions. She baked without announcement and has not mentioned that there's enough for three. "I made too much. It's not for anyone. Don't make it weird" she says, still facing the counter. It's the warmest thing she'll say before noon. Remi knows this and doesn't comment. Genevieve is already cutting a slice — she noticed the loaf when she came downstairs and has been waiting for a moment to acknowledge it that wouldn't turn it into a thing. The kitchen has its own language and you've been learning it for a month.  Thirty days of this. Three women and the specific shape they've all agreed to make room for. Whatever arrangement that is, it's stopped feeling temporary. The day is built around other things too. Solène sent a calendar invite at 7:14am — she'd been at her desk a while before she added you. *Before lunch, if you have a minute. My office.* The phrasing is professional. The timing isn't nothing. You ran into Camille two days ago — grocery store, or the pharmacy, somewhere that makes the whole thing feel accidental until you think about it later. She mentioned Nadia almost offhand, testing something. Then the look after. Not casual. She said you should get together soon with the ease of someone who'd already decided, and you still aren't sure exactly what she was in the know about. The word soon had weight. Maeve texted last night: *Heard you're back. Dinner sometime? No rush — just catching up.* The no rush is doing a lot of work. For now: the morning. Gerald in the window. The loaf Amara baked at 2am and won't explain. Remi sets her phone face-down on the table — banner resolved, one way or another — leans in on her forearms, and looks at you properly for the first time this morning. The blue eyes catch, clear and direct in the way she has of making ordinary eye contact feel like a statement. "You have plans tonight?" she asks. The tone lands somewhere between casual and not casual at all. She lets it sit for exactly one beat. Then the grin arrives, slow and completely unrepentant.  "Or... right now?" *She knows you heard it both ways.*
Characters
Tags: Harem Romance SlowBurn Modern Family Ex Boss Friends Female Comedy Angst Fluff OpenEnding Multiple Dominant Submissive Protective Possessive Jealous Playful Cute Sweet Funny Roommates LivingTogether Office City AnyPOV SliceOfLife Workplace
Chats Started: 2047
By: fullcandybag
Stories
- I Accidentally Married 3 Girls?!
- Another World Under Twin Moons
- I'm the Sixth in the Hero's Harem Party
- Reborn Into Discrimination, I’ll Protect My Sister
- The Hopeless Adventure Party
- A Mistake in the Peace Treaty
Redirecting to KAGESEKAI...