Leigh!fic- Dignity Forsaken (1/1)- Katie Bell, Stewart Ackerly
Title: Dignity Forsaken (1/1)
Author: Leigh, aka leigh_adams
Rating: PG
Word count: 1,159
Possible spoilers/warnings: None
Summary: And now, he was about to sacrifice his dignity. But not without a fight.
Notes: This was written for the lovely thejazyfizel , who requested Katie Bell and Stewart Ackerly, using the prompt 'candy canes.' Jaz, I hope you like what my twisted little mind came up with! :*
Stewart Ackerly had sacrificed many things since he had become involved with Katie. He’d sacrificed all others just to be with her; in hindsight, it had been totally worth it, but it was still something he’d given up. He’d given up nights at the pub with his mates in favor of nights in with her, long dinners and other couple activities that he’d previously scoffed at as being too sentimental and girly.
Once, he’d mocked Stephen for moping about over a bird, for going on a drinking binge- well, two drinking binges, really- because his romantic entanglements were going south. Little did he know that one fateful day, that would be him.
He’d given up bachelorhood to marry her, to call her his wife. Seeing his ring on her finger and calling her Katie Ackerly had given him a thrill that rivaled the one he’d felt when England had won the Quidditch World Cup. She was his.
Then he’d sacrificed sleep when his children had been born. Sean, his little gremlin, with his tousled blonde hair and mischievous blue eyes, and Megan, the spitting image of her mummy, his little faerie princess. They were his world now, but they also took away from his nightly rituals- both sleep and other more private ones.
And now, he was about to sacrifice his dignity. But not without a fight.
“Katie!” he bellowed, backing slowly away from the outfit she’d laid out on the bed. It…she…why? There was no way in the seven layers of hell that he was going to put that on. If his lovely wife thought he was, then she was even crazier than he knew.
His lovely wife poked her head in the room, three year-old Megan perched on her hip. “You yelled?” she asked, one dark brow arched. He knew better than to yell at her; usually, it ended in him being hexed, hit or relegated to sleeping on the couch.
“Yes, I did. And with bloody good reason,” he said, pointing imperiously at the offending set of garments on the bed. “I don’t know what’s gotten into you, but I am not wearing that.”
Katie scoffed. “Yes, you are.”
“No, I’m not.”
“Stewart,” she said warningly as she stepped into the room, “it’s the school Christmas party and all the families are supposed to dress in costume. All three of us are ready; we’re just waiting on you.”
When she stepped into the room, he got his first glimpse of the outfit she was wearing. A little red velvet dress with a flared skirt and white fur trimming the collar, cuffs and hemline of the skirt. A little red Father Christmas hat and pointy-toed red leather boots capped off the ensemble, making her into the most enticing little Christmas elf he’d ever seen.
Megan, his little Christmas faerie, wiggled out of her mother’s arms and held her arms out to him. “Up, Daddy!” She gave him a big, toothy grin when he took her from Katie and settled her in his arms, her little red ballerina outfit complemented by a tiny pair of sheer, glittery wings and red ballet slippers.
The utter cuteness of his wife and daughter didn’t make his resolve wave, though. “Then you can wait a bit longer. I’m not wearing it.”
“Why not?” she asked, quirking her head to the side. “It matches Sean’s outfit, and it’s cute.”
“Exactly. Cute,” he sneered the last word as if it were of the foulest degree. “I am not cute. I am handsome, ruggedly so,” he ignored Katie’s snort, “a world famous athlete, former winner of Witch Weekly’s Most Eligible Bachelor award, and the March entry for the 2007 Studs of the Pitch calendar. I am not cute.”
His wife just raised a brow, amusement painted on her face. “I never said you were cute, I said the outfit was cute. And you’re going to wear it to the party, smile, have a good time, and I’ll give you a candy cane tonight.”
At that last, he perked up slightly. ‘Candy cane’ was their safe word for the holidays, a way of promising sexual favors when there were little ears in the room. She was quite skilled at doling hers out, so much that he often thought of ways to get her to promise a candy cane without over provoking her ire. But even still… “But Katie, it has tights!”
His woeful tone of voice was completely lost on his daughter. Wiggling in his arms, Megan leaned down and grasped onto the pointy green elf’s hat with her little fingers. With a little giggle, she reached up and plopped it firmly on Stewart’s head. “Lookit, Mummy, Daddy’s an elf!”
He was still all set to protest; really, weren’t there rules against this kind of torture? But one look into his daughter’s bright brown eyes and he was a goner. Groaning, he set Megan down on the floor and gave her an encouraging nudge towards Katie. “Go with Mummy, Princess. Daddy’s got to get ready for the party.”
Katie beamed at him until Megan had scampered out of the room, calling out for her brother in a sing-song voice. As soon as she was gone, her face instantly dropped into a sultry one worthy of the sirenae of ancient lore.
She sashayed across the room to him, pert little skirt swinging with her hips. Unable to look away, his gaze lingered on her hips until she stopped in front of him. Her delicate fingers, nails painted red to match her outfit, walked up his chest and came to rest on his shoulder. Her brown eyes, now warm with an unspoken promise, met his blue gaze, and she smiled.
“I love you,” she whispers before she goes up on her tiptoes and kisses him.
His arms band around her waist, still tiny even after two children and her retirement from professional Quidditch. Her body is soft and warm, pressed against his, and were it not for Sean and Megan waiting in the front room, he’d lay her down on their bed and strip that Christmas pixie outfit from her body.
“You better,” he murmurs against her lips. “I’m wearing this bloody outfit to the party against the voices of my better angels.”
She snorted. “You’re forgetting that I’m your better angel.”
“If you’re an angel, does that make me God?”
Katie rolled her eyes. “Just because you can make me scream His name does not mean you are Him, love.” Pulling away, she gave him a fond tap on the bum before she turned to sashay out of the room. “And do hurry,” she called over her shoulder, pausing in the doorframe, “I want to take a family picture before we go.”
Oh good, so his humiliation could be documented on film. Fucking lovely. With a groan, he turned his attention back to the current bane of his existence, spread out innocently on the bed. So long, dignity.
Author: Leigh, aka leigh_adams
Rating: PG
Word count: 1,159
Possible spoilers/warnings: None
Summary: And now, he was about to sacrifice his dignity. But not without a fight.
Notes: This was written for the lovely thejazyfizel , who requested Katie Bell and Stewart Ackerly, using the prompt 'candy canes.' Jaz, I hope you like what my twisted little mind came up with! :*
Stewart Ackerly had sacrificed many things since he had become involved with Katie. He’d sacrificed all others just to be with her; in hindsight, it had been totally worth it, but it was still something he’d given up. He’d given up nights at the pub with his mates in favor of nights in with her, long dinners and other couple activities that he’d previously scoffed at as being too sentimental and girly.
Once, he’d mocked Stephen for moping about over a bird, for going on a drinking binge- well, two drinking binges, really- because his romantic entanglements were going south. Little did he know that one fateful day, that would be him.
He’d given up bachelorhood to marry her, to call her his wife. Seeing his ring on her finger and calling her Katie Ackerly had given him a thrill that rivaled the one he’d felt when England had won the Quidditch World Cup. She was his.
Then he’d sacrificed sleep when his children had been born. Sean, his little gremlin, with his tousled blonde hair and mischievous blue eyes, and Megan, the spitting image of her mummy, his little faerie princess. They were his world now, but they also took away from his nightly rituals- both sleep and other more private ones.
And now, he was about to sacrifice his dignity. But not without a fight.
“Katie!” he bellowed, backing slowly away from the outfit she’d laid out on the bed. It…she…why? There was no way in the seven layers of hell that he was going to put that on. If his lovely wife thought he was, then she was even crazier than he knew.
His lovely wife poked her head in the room, three year-old Megan perched on her hip. “You yelled?” she asked, one dark brow arched. He knew better than to yell at her; usually, it ended in him being hexed, hit or relegated to sleeping on the couch.
“Yes, I did. And with bloody good reason,” he said, pointing imperiously at the offending set of garments on the bed. “I don’t know what’s gotten into you, but I am not wearing that.”
Katie scoffed. “Yes, you are.”
“No, I’m not.”
“Stewart,” she said warningly as she stepped into the room, “it’s the school Christmas party and all the families are supposed to dress in costume. All three of us are ready; we’re just waiting on you.”
When she stepped into the room, he got his first glimpse of the outfit she was wearing. A little red velvet dress with a flared skirt and white fur trimming the collar, cuffs and hemline of the skirt. A little red Father Christmas hat and pointy-toed red leather boots capped off the ensemble, making her into the most enticing little Christmas elf he’d ever seen.
Megan, his little Christmas faerie, wiggled out of her mother’s arms and held her arms out to him. “Up, Daddy!” She gave him a big, toothy grin when he took her from Katie and settled her in his arms, her little red ballerina outfit complemented by a tiny pair of sheer, glittery wings and red ballet slippers.
The utter cuteness of his wife and daughter didn’t make his resolve wave, though. “Then you can wait a bit longer. I’m not wearing it.”
“Why not?” she asked, quirking her head to the side. “It matches Sean’s outfit, and it’s cute.”
“Exactly. Cute,” he sneered the last word as if it were of the foulest degree. “I am not cute. I am handsome, ruggedly so,” he ignored Katie’s snort, “a world famous athlete, former winner of Witch Weekly’s Most Eligible Bachelor award, and the March entry for the 2007 Studs of the Pitch calendar. I am not cute.”
His wife just raised a brow, amusement painted on her face. “I never said you were cute, I said the outfit was cute. And you’re going to wear it to the party, smile, have a good time, and I’ll give you a candy cane tonight.”
At that last, he perked up slightly. ‘Candy cane’ was their safe word for the holidays, a way of promising sexual favors when there were little ears in the room. She was quite skilled at doling hers out, so much that he often thought of ways to get her to promise a candy cane without over provoking her ire. But even still… “But Katie, it has tights!”
His woeful tone of voice was completely lost on his daughter. Wiggling in his arms, Megan leaned down and grasped onto the pointy green elf’s hat with her little fingers. With a little giggle, she reached up and plopped it firmly on Stewart’s head. “Lookit, Mummy, Daddy’s an elf!”
He was still all set to protest; really, weren’t there rules against this kind of torture? But one look into his daughter’s bright brown eyes and he was a goner. Groaning, he set Megan down on the floor and gave her an encouraging nudge towards Katie. “Go with Mummy, Princess. Daddy’s got to get ready for the party.”
Katie beamed at him until Megan had scampered out of the room, calling out for her brother in a sing-song voice. As soon as she was gone, her face instantly dropped into a sultry one worthy of the sirenae of ancient lore.
She sashayed across the room to him, pert little skirt swinging with her hips. Unable to look away, his gaze lingered on her hips until she stopped in front of him. Her delicate fingers, nails painted red to match her outfit, walked up his chest and came to rest on his shoulder. Her brown eyes, now warm with an unspoken promise, met his blue gaze, and she smiled.
“I love you,” she whispers before she goes up on her tiptoes and kisses him.
His arms band around her waist, still tiny even after two children and her retirement from professional Quidditch. Her body is soft and warm, pressed against his, and were it not for Sean and Megan waiting in the front room, he’d lay her down on their bed and strip that Christmas pixie outfit from her body.
“You better,” he murmurs against her lips. “I’m wearing this bloody outfit to the party against the voices of my better angels.”
She snorted. “You’re forgetting that I’m your better angel.”
“If you’re an angel, does that make me God?”
Katie rolled her eyes. “Just because you can make me scream His name does not mean you are Him, love.” Pulling away, she gave him a fond tap on the bum before she turned to sashay out of the room. “And do hurry,” she called over her shoulder, pausing in the doorframe, “I want to take a family picture before we go.”
Oh good, so his humiliation could be documented on film. Fucking lovely. With a groan, he turned his attention back to the current bane of his existence, spread out innocently on the bed. So long, dignity.