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thebluestbluewords · 3 years

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fitting rooms have locks for a reason

Malvie + Ben, a little spicy, technically part of my queer parenting/babyfic/polyamory 'verse. Not explicitly stated, but it's got some pretty heavy d/s themes. ~1600 words.

“I don’t think this is ever going to be a good look on me.” Mal says doubtfully, fisting the extra fabric of her skirt up as she steps onto Evie’s fitting dais. “I might just be too short for this to ever look good.”

Evie does not roll her eyes, because she is a good girlfriend who is working with her girlfriend’s changing ideas about her body, rather than against them. “It doesn’t look good now, obviously. You have to shut up and let me finish pinning it first.”

Mal drops the skirt. “Fine.”

Finally, “Thank you.” Evie says graciously, and gestures for their boy to come forward. “Servant boy, more pins!”

Ben ducks his head. Evie’s got him on his knees today, his feet looped together with one of her scarves so he can’t move easily even if she wanted him to stand. He gets quiet sometimes, when they boss him around like this, but they’ve talked about it at length and he insists that it’s better when they let him get to that point.

He’s not that far down yet today. “Your highness,” he says, holding out the magnetic dish with the wickedly sharp straight pins that Evie uses for fittings. She could tie his hands too, but half the fun is pulling him around into odd positions and seeing how long he’ll be able to hold it before she either has to move or scold him.

It’s a good day, so Evie’s going to give him a fighting chance this time. “Stay right there for a sec, babe. Don’t move a muscle,” she says, pulling his arms, and the dish sitting in his hands, up so that she can reach easily. It means that his arms are stuck awkwardly just above his head, but his shoulders are already relaxing into the pose. “Thank you.” she adds, on second thought. A little praise never hurt anyone.

“Evie--” Mal tries, as Evie gathers the fabric she’s been holding up out of her hands. It’s a few simple tucks that honestly, Evie doesn’t even need her to model for. She’s been designing for Mal practically as long as she’s been designing for anyone other than herself, and between clothing and their other activities, she knows the shape of her girlfriend’s body better than her own.

“Shh.” Evie says, and brandishes a pin. “I’m almost done, just hold on.”

Mal shuts up.

It really only takes another second, and then there’s just the hem to get up, and their boy to shove around again, until he’s moving a little looser and easier, just like Mal does when Evie finally finds the dresses that make her feel like the best version of herself, and that’s it.

Evie drops the hem to Mal’s legs, and the spare pins back to the bowl. “Do you want to try walking in that, Mally?”

Mal steps down from the little fitting dais that Evie’s got set up, and does a little runway walk over to the mirror propped against the far wall of the studio. “It’s not bad.” she admits, swishing the flowy skirt around her legs. “I like the pleats.”

Evie tries not to talk up her own accomplishments more than absolutely necessary, but Mal does look a full treat. “Told you,” she says, because well, she did. “Lift your arms, how’s that?”

Mal raises her arms above her head obediently, and gives a little wave. “Good.” she says, and shakes her shoulders out, like she’s dancing. The dress shifts with her, fabric floating along the elegant lines of her body. “I like it.”

“Excellent. Let me see you now, give me a twirl.” Evie says, gesturing. Her own dress is a simple one, form-fitting black with a sheer blue jacket that leaves her arms free for pinning and fitting her designs. It’s one of her new favorites, now that she’s been doing a lot more of the actual work end of her business lately, and a bit less of the studying end. She’s still got her team, of course, and two years of business management classes have taught her how to manage all the loose ends of the little world she’s made for herself, but it’s still nice to have a reliable outfit stable for getting shit done in.

Mal twirls. The hem lasts for two rotations, and then Mal, being herself, even though they’re old enough to know better, gets too excited and spins fast enough to make her hair fly up. The hem, predictably, falls out.

Mal looks guiltily up at Evie. “Oops.” she says, a smile tugging at the corner of her mouth. “You might need to re-pin that one.”

Of course Mal wants to make them go through the process again. Evie should serve her right and make her hold her own pins this time, just to give their boy a break.

“That’s fine, I’ll get it set back up where you need it.” Evie says instead, kneeling down to gather the loose edge back up again. It’s not so bad really, just the front piece that’s come undone from her loose attempt at figuring out how high Mal will want her hem. “I’m gonna leave a pretty generous hem this time, just in case we need to take it out more later.”

“In case what, I need to run away again and we don’t do this for another month?” Mal says bitterly. “That’s clever of you. Knowing when I’m going to have another breakdown.”

“Or if you want to wear the dress again, M.” Evie says gently, repinning the soft fabric. “That’s also a thing you can do.”

“People will talk.”

“And what, are you going to listen?” Evie asks, glancing up at Mal from where she’s almost finished getting the skirt up again. “Don’t take criticism from people you wouldn’t go to for advice, babe. I don’t care what the gossip rags say about your outfits, and neither should you. I can make you something blingy to wear over it, if you need to change it up that badly.”

“No!” Mal exclams, smoothing a hand over the top of the dress, where it drapes over the faintly rounded curve of her belly. “I like how it is. Don’t change a thing.”

“Don’t complain if you don’t want to hear my solutions!” Evie says, gesturing with an empty hand. “You’re all pinned up again, if you want to get out of this and let my pin boy do his work with you.”

Mal does crack a smile at that. “Ooh, and what kind of work could that be, I wonder?” she asks, eyes sparkling. “I’ve heard good things about his handicrafts, but if you’re still going to use him for any other projects I’m sure I could find other ways to work with him.”

Evie glances over, just to make sure they’re all good.

Ben meets her eyes. He’s looking a little bit dreamy, but not like he’s in the stratosphere just yet. They’re fine. “I do have a few more designs that could use work,” Evie admits. “And it is easier to get those woven patterns you like nailed down if I’ve got a second pair of hands at my disposal.”

Mal smooths her skirt again. “I think it would be nice,” she says, looking at the both of them, watching them watch each other, “If we could. Uh. Test out the versatility of this dress.”

“See how it’s going to hold up for some extracurriculars?” Evie offers, sweetly. “Test the range of movement you’ve got in the legs?”

Mal’s a blusher, which is unfortunate for her and very fortunate for her partners. “Maybe I want to make sure it’s going to fit a little something else under the skirt?” she says, going for lofty and disinterested, and ending up somewhere around nervous-pleased and eager. “It’s important that it can accomodate, uh, my changing body?”

Good lord, if this is what Evie’s going to be dealing with in miniature she’s never going to make it through their kid’s youth. “You can do all the testing you need, so long as you don’t break anything and you have him back in one piece for the next time I need a helper, m’kay?” she says, and gives Ben a little nod.

He takes the cue, which is good, because it means he’s still in the game. It’s easy enough for Evie to guide the two of them, both of her beautiful idiots, over to the gold fainting couch she’s got in the corner for exactly this purpose. It’s not exactly set up for three, but it’s a simple enough switch for Evie to slip herself down beside Mal, half behind her, so that she can get her mouth on that soft spot behind her ear where she likes to be kissed. It takes a second longer for their boy to finish settling into his own position, but that’s to be expected when she’s got him helping like this. It wouldn’t do to have the help in place before they want him there. This is for Mal, after all.

Speaking of. With all the work that Evie’s just been putting in on the skirt, it wouldn’t do to have Mal messing that up either. Evie reaches down and flips it up, leaving Mal’s pale thighs exposed to the light.

Ah, and their boy is in place now. Good.

Evie trails soft fingertips down Mal’s side, until she’s got her nails, matte red and dark like old blood today, on the pale edge of her skin where it meets the dark fabric of her undergarments.

Ben is keeping his hands to himself, because he’s a good boy who knows what they need from him. He leans his head against Mal’s inner leg instead, nudging his mouth up against the opposite side as Evie’s fingertips.

“Mally,” Evie asks sweetly, directly into her girlfriend’s ear. “Do you want more from us?”

Mal shivers in response, which could be good or bad, and then pushes up into the touch. “Yes,” she breathes, and turns her head to press her next words up against Evie’s lips. “Please, Eves. Need you both.”

#my fic #descendants fanfiction #mal bertha #evie grimhilde #ben florian #malvie #bal?#idk if there's a ship tag for the three of them together #this is slightly SPICY consider this a warning #1am.....feels like the right time to post this yeah

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