and i said no, no, no
and i said no, no, no
bandom, Amanda Palmer/Katie Kay, R, ~1200 words
Amanda Palmer is the lead singer for The Dresden Dolls and is really getting vocal node surgery in March. Katie Kay is their tour manager, an amazing dancer, and toured with the Gaymos(!) at the Disco in 2006. Thank you so much to kissingchaos9 for her encouragement and thinking out of all of this.
Title from Amy Winehouse, thanks to secrethappiness and bunnymcfoo for the betas.
Posted for 14valentines, [Day 8] Domestic Violence
( Amanda can deal with this vocal node shit … but the thing that Amanda can not accept, the thing that is not fucking okay with her, is giving up sex. )
"No."
Okay, Amanda can deal with this vocal node shit. Doesn't love the idea of giving up smoking, but she can get a patch. She can drink more water, not drink any alcohol. She can cancel some shows, she can stop speaking for two weeks before the surgery and carry around a whiteboard like they did in that one episode of Buffy.
But the thing that Amanda can not accept, the thing that is not fucking okay with her, is giving up sex.
Which the doctor never said she had to do.
Katie, apparently, has different ideas.
"No, Amanda," Katie says, shaking her head to punctuate her point. She flops down on the couch in Amanda's living room, scrubbing a hand across her face in the way that she does when she's getting frustrated. "No. This isn't Katie your girlfriend, this is Katie your tour manager. We can't risk it. You have to have this surgery and you have to be on total voice rest for it to work."
"But I would be," Amanda protests. "Nobody said we couldn't have sex!"
"That's because you didn't tell the doctor that you're loud," says Katie. Her voice is infuriatingly reasonable-sounding. "Which, okay, awkward conversation with a doctor. But. No. You're a screamer and a talker and you're loud in bed."
"I thought you liked that," Amanda mumbles.
Katie's face softens a little. "I do. But not when you're not supposed to be talking. Or even whispering."
“This is bullshit.”
Katie shrugs. “Six weeks. Two before, four after. I’m not budging on this.”
*
Amanda, see, Amanda has a plan. It’s a good plan.
She’s going to seduce Katie.
She did it once, right? How hard could it be to do again?
*
Seduction is really hard.
Sure, Amanda succeeded before, but that was when she was on her game. And now, she and Katie have had more than a year of cuddling on couches and sleeping next to each other and regular (very, very regular) orgasms. And while Amanda loves Katie, loves everything they do together, she's gotten soft.
That or Katie is really, really stubborn. For her pride's sake, Amanda believes it's Katie's stubbornness.
The added complication of not being able to speak definitely isn't helping things. Amanda had never realized how much of her flirting and innuendo was verbal until it wasn’t an option.
Amanda just doesn’t think that writing “Hey, baby, I was thinking” on a whiteboard carries quite the same oomph as saying it. And Amanda’s not sure how to write suggestively.
Plus, the whiteboard doesn’t go with any of her sexy underwear.
*
Amanda's sulking around the house after skulking didn’t work. She’s not sure what went wrong with her sexyplans, but she's realizing that Katie has a will of steel and that she is really serious about this.
“Amanda, I’m really serious,” Katie says, sighing and putting down yet another cup of fucking herbal tea in front of Amanda. Tea is a piss-poor substitute for coffee. “I’m not going to be the reason you fuck up your entire career and everything you love. I won’t do it.”
I can be quiet. Amanda writes, turning her face up to Katie so she can see the pleading eyes. I’ve BEEN quiet, haven’t I? Then she went back and underlined “BEEN” twice.
“Yeah.” Katie smiles a little and leans across the counter. Her breath on Amanda’s face, her hand tipping Amanda’s face toward hers, the crinkles around her eyes are all so familiar. “But that’s because you have to. You know that you don’t have a chance in hell of getting laid for a while if you say anything now. You have to be quiet.”
What is not familiar is the chaste, barely-there peck on Amanda’s lips. “We're just going to keep you that way.”
*
They’re still sleeping in the same bedroom - Katie hasn’t decided that sleeping in the same bed would be too tempting for Amanda. Yet.
But Amanda’s pissed and she’s pouting and she thinks this whole thing is stupid. She knows that she’s being a brat. But … she misses it. She misses touching and gasping and the look on Katie’s face when she gets Amanda to come. She just misses it.
She falls asleep watching movies in the living room, her face set in a scowl. She doesn’t necessarily do it on purpose - they’re not fighting, not exactly. But Amanda can feel herself drifting off but she makes no effort to move.
Whatever.
*
“Hey,” a quiet, familiar voice breaks into Amanda’s dream.
“Nggggh,” Amanda groans, rolling away from the voice, her voice muffling into the back of the couch.
“Hey, no,” the voice follows. Oh, right. Katie. Why is Katie waking her up? “Shhh, no talking, remember? Come on, come to bed.”
Amanda huffs. Is she not in bed? Why can’t she talk? Why is she not in …
Oh. Right. She’s pouting. Because Katie is a withholding … something mean. Amanda’s head is a little muddy.
Amanda turns her face toward Katie, fumbling for the whiteboard that has fallen on the floor while she was sleeping.
Don’t want to come to bed. she scrawls on the board. Here is fine.
It’s too shadowy to see Katie’s face, but Amanda is sure that she can feel Katie rolling her eyes. You shouldn’t be able to feel someone rolling their eyes, but Amanda’s had practice. Katie rolls her eyes a lot.
"Look, it's not like I like this.” Katie’s voice is softer than Amanda thought it might be, almost sympathetic and … something else. Something low and familiar, but out of place with the words. “It's not like I don't miss you, like I don't want to touch you."
Amanda looks up, her eyes wide at the tone of Katie's voice.
"I'll try it," Katie says, low and serious. "I'll try it, but if you make one sound, it's done. Got it?"
Amanda nods quickly, opening her mouth to respond and snapping it shut immediately.
She can be quiet.
*
It's fucking hard to be quiet.
Katie has her spread out on the bed, her hands moving slowly and methodically between Amanda’s legs, mouthing nonsense across Amanda’s collarbones. Amanda’s legs are shaking, her chest is heaving, and her mouth is clamped strangely, uncomfortably tight.
“Remember,” Katie says, lifting her head up from Amanda’s chest. “Quiet.”
Oh. God.
That’s … actually even hotter.
She can do this. She can arch and sigh (but not moan, not talk, not say Katie’s name or “please”), she can shake and breathe deeply. She can do this.
Amanda’s just not very used to restraining herself. Everything about her is big, is large movements and grand gestures and screams and shouts. This white-knuckled grasp on control is new and it’s hard.
She knows how to lose control. She doesn’t know how to do this.
It’s different and it’s weird and it’s strangely hot and Amanda has come closer and closer to the edge of words, of sounds, of slipping with every moment, but she has managed to rein it in.
It’s only as Katie’s mouth latches onto hers that she realizes that her breath was rasping, edging on moans.
“Be good,” Katie whispers across Amanda’s lips.
She can try.
bandom, Amanda Palmer/Katie Kay, R, ~1200 words
Amanda Palmer is the lead singer for The Dresden Dolls and is really getting vocal node surgery in March. Katie Kay is their tour manager, an amazing dancer, and toured with the Gaymos(!) at the Disco in 2006. Thank you so much to kissingchaos9 for her encouragement and thinking out of all of this.
Title from Amy Winehouse, thanks to secrethappiness and bunnymcfoo for the betas.
Posted for 14valentines, [Day 8] Domestic Violence
( Amanda can deal with this vocal node shit … but the thing that Amanda can not accept, the thing that is not fucking okay with her, is giving up sex. )
"No."
Okay, Amanda can deal with this vocal node shit. Doesn't love the idea of giving up smoking, but she can get a patch. She can drink more water, not drink any alcohol. She can cancel some shows, she can stop speaking for two weeks before the surgery and carry around a whiteboard like they did in that one episode of Buffy.
But the thing that Amanda can not accept, the thing that is not fucking okay with her, is giving up sex.
Which the doctor never said she had to do.
Katie, apparently, has different ideas.
"No, Amanda," Katie says, shaking her head to punctuate her point. She flops down on the couch in Amanda's living room, scrubbing a hand across her face in the way that she does when she's getting frustrated. "No. This isn't Katie your girlfriend, this is Katie your tour manager. We can't risk it. You have to have this surgery and you have to be on total voice rest for it to work."
"But I would be," Amanda protests. "Nobody said we couldn't have sex!"
"That's because you didn't tell the doctor that you're loud," says Katie. Her voice is infuriatingly reasonable-sounding. "Which, okay, awkward conversation with a doctor. But. No. You're a screamer and a talker and you're loud in bed."
"I thought you liked that," Amanda mumbles.
Katie's face softens a little. "I do. But not when you're not supposed to be talking. Or even whispering."
“This is bullshit.”
Katie shrugs. “Six weeks. Two before, four after. I’m not budging on this.”
*
Amanda, see, Amanda has a plan. It’s a good plan.
She’s going to seduce Katie.
She did it once, right? How hard could it be to do again?
*
Seduction is really hard.
Sure, Amanda succeeded before, but that was when she was on her game. And now, she and Katie have had more than a year of cuddling on couches and sleeping next to each other and regular (very, very regular) orgasms. And while Amanda loves Katie, loves everything they do together, she's gotten soft.
That or Katie is really, really stubborn. For her pride's sake, Amanda believes it's Katie's stubbornness.
The added complication of not being able to speak definitely isn't helping things. Amanda had never realized how much of her flirting and innuendo was verbal until it wasn’t an option.
Amanda just doesn’t think that writing “Hey, baby, I was thinking” on a whiteboard carries quite the same oomph as saying it. And Amanda’s not sure how to write suggestively.
Plus, the whiteboard doesn’t go with any of her sexy underwear.
*
Amanda's sulking around the house after skulking didn’t work. She’s not sure what went wrong with her sexyplans, but she's realizing that Katie has a will of steel and that she is really serious about this.
“Amanda, I’m really serious,” Katie says, sighing and putting down yet another cup of fucking herbal tea in front of Amanda. Tea is a piss-poor substitute for coffee. “I’m not going to be the reason you fuck up your entire career and everything you love. I won’t do it.”
I can be quiet. Amanda writes, turning her face up to Katie so she can see the pleading eyes. I’ve BEEN quiet, haven’t I? Then she went back and underlined “BEEN” twice.
“Yeah.” Katie smiles a little and leans across the counter. Her breath on Amanda’s face, her hand tipping Amanda’s face toward hers, the crinkles around her eyes are all so familiar. “But that’s because you have to. You know that you don’t have a chance in hell of getting laid for a while if you say anything now. You have to be quiet.”
What is not familiar is the chaste, barely-there peck on Amanda’s lips. “We're just going to keep you that way.”
*
They’re still sleeping in the same bedroom - Katie hasn’t decided that sleeping in the same bed would be too tempting for Amanda. Yet.
But Amanda’s pissed and she’s pouting and she thinks this whole thing is stupid. She knows that she’s being a brat. But … she misses it. She misses touching and gasping and the look on Katie’s face when she gets Amanda to come. She just misses it.
She falls asleep watching movies in the living room, her face set in a scowl. She doesn’t necessarily do it on purpose - they’re not fighting, not exactly. But Amanda can feel herself drifting off but she makes no effort to move.
Whatever.
*
“Hey,” a quiet, familiar voice breaks into Amanda’s dream.
“Nggggh,” Amanda groans, rolling away from the voice, her voice muffling into the back of the couch.
“Hey, no,” the voice follows. Oh, right. Katie. Why is Katie waking her up? “Shhh, no talking, remember? Come on, come to bed.”
Amanda huffs. Is she not in bed? Why can’t she talk? Why is she not in …
Oh. Right. She’s pouting. Because Katie is a withholding … something mean. Amanda’s head is a little muddy.
Amanda turns her face toward Katie, fumbling for the whiteboard that has fallen on the floor while she was sleeping.
Don’t want to come to bed. she scrawls on the board. Here is fine.
It’s too shadowy to see Katie’s face, but Amanda is sure that she can feel Katie rolling her eyes. You shouldn’t be able to feel someone rolling their eyes, but Amanda’s had practice. Katie rolls her eyes a lot.
"Look, it's not like I like this.” Katie’s voice is softer than Amanda thought it might be, almost sympathetic and … something else. Something low and familiar, but out of place with the words. “It's not like I don't miss you, like I don't want to touch you."
Amanda looks up, her eyes wide at the tone of Katie's voice.
"I'll try it," Katie says, low and serious. "I'll try it, but if you make one sound, it's done. Got it?"
Amanda nods quickly, opening her mouth to respond and snapping it shut immediately.
She can be quiet.
*
It's fucking hard to be quiet.
Katie has her spread out on the bed, her hands moving slowly and methodically between Amanda’s legs, mouthing nonsense across Amanda’s collarbones. Amanda’s legs are shaking, her chest is heaving, and her mouth is clamped strangely, uncomfortably tight.
“Remember,” Katie says, lifting her head up from Amanda’s chest. “Quiet.”
Oh. God.
That’s … actually even hotter.
She can do this. She can arch and sigh (but not moan, not talk, not say Katie’s name or “please”), she can shake and breathe deeply. She can do this.
Amanda’s just not very used to restraining herself. Everything about her is big, is large movements and grand gestures and screams and shouts. This white-knuckled grasp on control is new and it’s hard.
She knows how to lose control. She doesn’t know how to do this.
It’s different and it’s weird and it’s strangely hot and Amanda has come closer and closer to the edge of words, of sounds, of slipping with every moment, but she has managed to rein it in.
It’s only as Katie’s mouth latches onto hers that she realizes that her breath was rasping, edging on moans.
“Be good,” Katie whispers across Amanda’s lips.
She can try.