Hiii I love your work, could you do a smut with Joey and fem reader where she rides him while he's sitting at his drum kit?
keeping the beat ♱ joey jordison
Title: Keeping the Beat
Pairing: Joey Jordison x Fem!Reader
Word count: 1.355 words
Warnings: NSFW / smut (18+), rough sex, public-ish setting (semi-private), reader riding Joey, dirty talk, possessiveness, swearing.
The dull thrum of bass amps hummed through the thick walls of the rehearsal space as the remaining members of Slipknot packed up and scattered. Everyone had cleared out after the last session, except for Joey — who, as usual, stayed behind, clinging to the sanctuary of his drums like they were the last thing keeping him tethered to reality.
The muffled clang of cymbals, the rhythmic pulse of his practiced strokes on the snare, and the occasional grunt of frustration were all you heard when you first entered the dimly lit room. His back was to you as he hammered out the final beats, his body swaying slightly with the pulse of the music. It was the kind of focus Joey only found when he was alone — the kind that let him block everything else out, even the world beyond the drums.
You lingered in the doorway for a moment, just watching. The way his long black hair clung to his damp neck, the way his toned back flexed under his worn band tee — it was a sight you had grown used to but never tired of. Joey Jordison was a beautiful mess, and you couldn't help but adore every piece of him.
Eventually, he stopped mid-pattern, stilling his sticks and letting the silence of the room settle in. He didn't even look up when you took a few steps forward, but you knew he was aware of your presence. His fingers twitched, and his posture shifted slightly, as if he was waiting for something.
"Enjoying the show?" he asked, his voice low and slightly rasping from exertion, but with that familiar cocky edge you loved.
You stepped closer, leaning against one of the towering amps near the wall. "I like the view."
He smirked, but didn't turn around, tapping his sticks against the rim of his snare in time with the soft, heavy beat of his heart. "You should get a better one, then," he muttered, his voice thick with amusement and the faintest trace of challenge.
You took a few more steps, until you were standing between him and the kit, close enough to feel the heat radiating off his body. There was something almost magnetic about the way he moved behind those drums, like he was consumed by his own rhythm. The thought made you smile. You liked watching him lose himself in his element, but tonight… tonight you had other plans.
Without a word, you slid a hand down his thigh, the warmth of his skin seeping into your palm. His muscles tensed under your touch, and you felt his breath hitch.
"You're killing me with that look," Joey growled, finally turning to face you, his eyes intense and dark, his black hair falling messily around his face. His gaze was predatory, but there was an undeniable softness to it — one that only ever came out when he was with you.
You smirked. "I like watching you play. You look so focused."
"Focused?" He raised an eyebrow, the corner of his lips twitching upward in amusement. "You have no idea, babe."
You leaned in closer, your breath hot against his neck. "I think I have an idea."
Joey’s hand gripped the back of your neck, pulling you into a kiss — slow, but charged with the promise of something much more urgent. His tongue brushed against yours, tasting, teasing, and then pulling away just as quickly. You groaned in protest, the need building between you as his hands moved to your waist.
"You're not just here to watch, are you?" he rasped, his voice thick with hunger.
You shook your head, biting your lip as you stepped closer, straddling his lap in one swift motion. The hardness of him pressed against your thigh, and the sensation sent a jolt of heat straight to your core.
"You have no idea how much I want you," you whispered, your hands sliding under his shirt, feeling the solid muscle of his chest beneath your fingertips.
Joey let out a low groan, gripping your hips and pulling you flush against him. "Then take it."
Without hesitation, you unzipped his jeans, freeing his cock, already hard and flushed, waiting for you. His breath caught in his throat as you slowly lowered yourself onto him, inch by inch. The moment you were fully seated, you both exhaled, the tension of the build-up breaking with a shared, needy gasp.
You rested your hands on his shoulders for balance, feeling the slight tremor in your thighs as you slowly began to move. The pressure, the fullness — it was all too much, and it made you dizzy with need. Joey’s hands gripped your waist, guiding your rhythm, his eyes locked onto yours with a dark, hungry intensity.
"Fuck," he groaned, his teeth gritted. "You feel so good on me."
You leaned forward, brushing your lips across his as you began to ride him harder. The friction was maddening — his cock hitting all the right spots, his breath ragged and uneven. The sound of his breathing, the slap of skin on skin, filled the room, but you were too lost in the moment to care.
"You're perfect," he whispered, his hands tightening on your hips as he pulled you down onto him with a sharp thrust. "Don't stop."
You didn’t want to. You wanted more. You needed more.
Your body responded instinctively, moving faster now, chasing that sweet, burning release that was so close it made your head spin. His fingers dug into your skin, pushing you further into the rhythm, his lips trailing over your neck, sucking and biting lightly at your skin.
"God, you’re so fucking hot," he muttered between kisses, his voice strained. "Every time I think I’m used to you, you surprise the hell outta me."
The words sent a thrill through you, but you were too far gone to say anything in response. All you could do was move — harder, faster, chasing that rush that was almost within your grasp.
Joey’s hands shifted, one moving to your breast, the other trailing down to your clit. He flicked it roughly with his thumb, and the jolt of pleasure almost sent you over the edge.
"Joey," you gasped, your head falling back. "I’m so close."
"Then come for me," he growled, his hips snapping up into yours with a sudden, brutal force. "I wanna feel you fall apart."
With that, you let go. The pressure in your stomach shattered, and you came hard, your body trembling violently as you ground yourself down onto him. Joey’s grip tightened on you as he followed right after, his groan of release filling your ears as he came inside you, his cock twitching and jerking with every wave of pleasure.
You both stayed still for a moment, trying to catch your breath. The room was thick with heat, the air heavy with the scent of sex and sweat. Your body was still buzzing, your skin tingling with every tiny movement.
Joey’s hands gently caressed your back, his fingers tracing idle patterns across your skin as he kissed your forehead.
"Think we broke your kit?" you whispered, a tired grin on your face.
Joey chuckled, his thumb gently brushing over your lower lip. "Nah. But if we keep going like this, we might."
You smirked, your hands resting on his chest as you slowly lifted yourself off him. You could still feel him inside you, his presence lingering even as you stood.
"Maybe I should come back tomorrow for round two," you teased, feeling playful now that the high had subsided.
Joey raised an eyebrow, his lips curling into a wicked grin. "You’ll be back before then, babe."
"Don’t count on it," you said, standing up and straightening your clothes. "I’ve got other things to do."
He smirked, leaning back in the drum throne, eyes half-lidded and his usual mischievous glint still in place. "I’ll be waiting. And next time? I’m taking you on the floor."
You shot him a look over your shoulder as you headed for the door. "I’ll be looking forward to it."
Hello! I have a request for Pyjama Anon! Just some short drabbles about what the guys wear to bed! I hope you enjoy!
WARNINGS: None
My Masterlist! ~ Tip Jar! ~ AO3 Link!
Divider Credit: @adornedwithlight
Corey:
Corey was all about comfort. Performing was hard on his body, more often than not leaving him with sore muscles and his throat completely raw. There was something almost therapeutic about throwing on his favorite pair of fleece pajama pants and an old, worn T-shirt that had definitely seen better days. You would slip into bed together, hushed goodnights and soft kisses as you settled into the mattress. He loves the way it felt when you would slip your hands under his shirt, letting your delicate touch roam over his body. He groans as you knead into his tired muscles, “don’t worry about me, baby.” He argued, but he made no move to stop your attentive care.
“You work too hard,” you mumble, pressing a kiss to his shoulder. “You gotta let me take care of you sometimes, yeah?” It was almost like a routine you had worked yourselves into, most of your nights ending the same way, with you noticing your boyfriend had drifted off by the sound of him snoring. It was comfortable, just how Corey liked it.
Sid:
It was impossible to keep clothes on Sid to begin with. He would constantly lose his shoes in the hotel rooms, you'd blink and he's suddenly walking around in nothing but his boxers in the tour bus, and if it was even a little too warm outside? Forget it, the shirt's coming off. Bed time was absolutely no different. He would start off in a T-shirt and some sweats, the two of you cuddled up in bed while you would absentmindedly scroll through your phones or watch a movie. Your hands would eventually drift under his shirt, just wanting to feel the warmth of his skin under your fingers. He would just chuckle, sitting you up and slipping the shirt over his head, pressing a kiss to your temple as you settled back down. Eventually, he would end up complaining about how hot it was, kicking his sweatpants onto the floor. He would chuckle as you teased him for always being naked. “Gotta let the body breathe, babe.” He would joke in response. Sometimes, he managed to keep his boxers on the entire night. But, more often than not, those also ended up getting discarded on the floor with the rest of his clothes. It was hard enough to keep clothes on him to begin with, it became even harder due to the fact that your boyfriend was almost always insatiably horny.
Chris:
There was nothing that you loved more than crawling into bed at the end of the long day, something that was only made more enjoyable now that you had someone to settle down with for the night. Chris slept hot, always. It was a blessing in the winter, being able to curl up against your own personal heater. But, he was also no stranger to the nefarious pranks from his band mates, meaning he always had to be somewhat clothed. Often opting for a thin pair of basketball shorts, maybe a T-shirt if it was particularly cold that night. Chris absolutely adores sleeping skin to skin if that's something you're comfortable with. He loves having you pressed to his strong chest, his fingers lazily dragging over your muscles, feeling how they shifted under his delicate touch. Your nights would always be filled with hushed conversations and laughter, Chris unable to stop himself from stealing chaste kisses that would leave you giggling until you eventually drifted off to sleep in his arms.
Jim:
Sleeping with Jim was always a mess of tangled limbs as he crushed you underneath his massive body. Usually opting to sleep in just his boxers it always presented you the perfect opportunity to cuddle up with him. He would open his arms for you to crawl into, pressing a kiss to the top of your head as you nestled against him, your body molding perfectly against his. You were the puzzle piece he never knew he needed up until the fateful day you two had met. Now, he couldn’t imagine spending a night away from you. Whether it was crammed into one of the bunks in the tour bus, or being sprawled out across his too big bed, only to end up tangled together in the middle of the mattress come morning, Jim always needed you within arms reach, he couldn’t sleep otherwise. “Come here, baby.” He mumbles groggily. He hikes your leg over his hip, the heavy weight of his muscular arm settling across your waist. “Comfy?” He asks quietly, pressing a chaste kiss to your lips as you let out a hum in response. He gently cards his fingers through your hair, the steady rise and fall of his chest eventually lulling you to sleep.
Mick:
Mick chuckles as you pout at him from the edge of the bed. “Just go grab one of my shirts out of the drawer, love.”
“But, yours is warm.” You whine in response. “And it smells like you.” He sighs, eyeing you playfully.
“Always so needy, aren’t you mama?” He teases, letting out a soft laugh at the sight of your flustered expression. “Anything for my pretty girl.” He slips his T-shirt over his head, leaving him in a pair of simple, black sweatpants. You pull the soft fabric over your head, the way too big shirt pooling around your thighs. Mick lets out a quiet hum as his gaze drags hungrily over you.
“I definitely can’t complain about you stealing my clothes when you look like that.” He takes your hand, pulling you into bed next to him. You settle against his strong chest smiling as he presses a kiss to the top of your head. “Good night, you little thief.” He teases, making you laugh. You share a few more soft kisses until you eventually drift off in his arms.
Joey:
Joey groans, rolling out his shoulders as he kicks the hotel room door shut behind you. “You were incredible out there tonight.” You say with a smile, your arms sliding over his shoulders.
“Yeah?” He grins back, letting out a hum as your lips slot against his. “It’s all thanks to you being there.” He whispers against your lips, stealing one more chaste kiss before pulling away. Your cheeks grow warm at his sweet words, the two of you separating in order to get ready for bed. You slip under the covers with a sigh, settling underneath the cover while you wait for Joey to finish up in the bathroom. “Jesus, it’s fucking freezing in here.” You hear him complain as his stark naked form darts from the bathroom, practically diving into the bed. You giggle, pulling him into your arms once you manage to find him under the mess of blankets.
“Well, maybe if you actually wore some clothes it wouldn’t be so cold.” You tease in response.
“Yeah, but this is so much more comfortable.” He rebuttals with a smirk. He wraps his arms around you, his head nestling against your chest, making you giggle in response. He lets out a hum of approval as you play with his hair, his breathing growing slow and even as he drifts off in your loving embrace.
Paul:
You squeal as Paul blankets his full weight on top of you, he groans as he settles, chuckling when he feels you struggling against him. “You’re crushing me!” You giggle, pounding on him with your fists.
“But, I have a crush on you.” He argues back with a laugh. Eventually giving in, he rolls over, pulling you on top of him in the process. You let out a pleased hum as he presses his lips to yours. You smile as you cuddle into him, your hands wandering over his strong chest and soft stomach, tracing along the waistband of the shorts he had worn to bed. “What are you doing?” He asks with a curious, playful smile.
“You just feel nice, that’s my favorite thing about cuddling with you is being able to rub my hands over you.” His features soften, studying you with an expression of pure adoration.
“You're sweet.” He cups your cheek in his hand, gently angling your jaw upward in order to place a gentle kiss to your lips. He pulls you against him, enjoying the feeling of your fingers absentmindedly wandering over him until you both eventually fell asleep.
Gross!Reader x Corey Taylor (or Mick 👉🏽👈🏽) 18+ thoughts 😌
You being so desperate for his cock after Slipknot's concert.
“Babe,” he'd chuckle “Let me shower first. I'm all sweaty and disgusting..”
“I don't care, I need you now.”
And you'd get down on your knees and rub your face against his bulge.
He'd grip your hair in his painted hand in a lazy attempt to pull you off.
“Sweetheart, you need to—” and you'd cut him off when you press your mouth to his fabric covered cock, swiping your tongue over it until it's damp.
His head would fall back against the wall and he'd let out a throaty groan.
“Please, can I have it?” you'd say with pleading eyes and a pout.
He'd release a ragged breath and fumble with the zipper on his coveralls, pushing the material to his thighs.
You'd get out his cock, licking up a path – starting from his balls to his head.
The musk doesn't bother you, it only makes you go feral.
You'd moan around him, looking up at him – those heavy lidded eyes behind the mask gazing down at you
“God, you're so fucking filthy. Couldn't even wait, could you, slut?”
And when you try to pull off to respond, he'd shove you back down, deeper, with both hands on the back of your head.
“Did I say you could speak?”
You'd shake your head, a whine pulling from your throat at the way he's treating you. Maybe he wants this just as much as you, maybe even more. Maybe he likes it when you're gross for him.
Summary: You find Joey exhausted in the studio, urging him to take better care of himself.
A/n: n/a
Word count: 1,079
The studio was eerily quiet. Normally, it was a place filled with the rhythmic pounding of drums, distorted guitar riffs, and Joey’s passionate muttering as he lost himself in his craft. But tonight, the only sound was the distant hum of the amplifiers and the soft creak of the door as you stepped inside.
You sighed, rubbing a hand over your face. Again.
Joey had been pushing himself way too hard lately—long rehearsals, late-night recording sessions, barely any sleep in between. He kept saying he was fine, that he just had to “get this last part down” or “finish tweaking this section,” but you could see it. The exhaustion was written all over him—dark circles under his eyes, the way his hands trembled slightly when he thought no one was watching, the way he barely touched his food when you reminded him to eat.
You knew his passion was what made him great. But it was also what would break him if he wasn’t careful.
And now here he was, slumped over the drum kit, passed out cold.
Your heart clenched at the sight of him. His arms were draped over his snare drum, head resting on the toms, his body rising and falling with deep, steady breaths. His black hoodie was bunched up at his shoulders, and his drumsticks were still loosely held in his fingers, as if he had been mid-beat before exhaustion took over.
Shaking your head, you walked over, crouching beside him. “Joey,” you murmured, brushing a few strands of his dark hair out of his face. He didn’t stir.
You sighed, more frustrated than angry, and gently shook his shoulder. “Joey, wake up.”
A groggy groan escaped his lips, his body shifting slightly as he blinked up at you. His eyes were unfocused, hazy with exhaustion, and for a moment, he just stared at you as if trying to remember where he was.
Then, recognition flickered in his gaze, and he attempted a lazy smirk. “Hey, babe,” he mumbled, voice thick with sleep. “What’re you doin’ here?”
“I should be asking you that,” you shot back, crossing your arms. “You were supposed to come home hours ago.”
Joey yawned, rubbing his eyes with the back of his hand. “Just… lost track of time.”
“You passed out on your drum kit, Joey,” you stressed, standing up. “That’s not losing track of time. That’s your body literally forcing you to stop.”
He groaned and sat up slowly, wincing as he stretched. “I was fine,” he muttered, running a hand through his messy hair.
You scoffed. “You don’t look fine.”
Joey gave you a lopsided grin, clearly trying to downplay his exhaustion. “Aw, but you still think I’m cute, right?”
You weren’t in the mood to play along. “Joey, this isn’t funny.”
His smile faded at your serious tone.
“I mean it,” you continued, stepping closer. “You’ve been running yourself into the ground. You’re barely sleeping, barely eating, and now you’re literally collapsing in the middle of recording sessions.” Your voice wavered slightly, and you hated how worried you sounded, but you couldn’t help it. “I get that you love what you do, but you’re not indestructible, Joey.”
For a long moment, he just sat there, staring down at his drumsticks in his lap. His fingers twirled one absentmindedly, but his usual playfulness was gone.
Then, with a heavy sigh, he reached out, wrapping his arms around your waist and pulling you between his legs. He pressed his forehead against your stomach, his grip loose but desperate, like he was clinging to you just as much as he was the moment.
“I know,” he murmured.
You softened at the quiet admission, threading your fingers through his hair. “Then why do you keep doing this to yourself?”
Joey exhaled slowly, his breath warm against your shirt. “Because I feel like if I stop, everything’s gonna fall apart.”
You frowned, running your hand through his hair in slow, soothing motions. “Joey…”
“I mean it,” he mumbled, voice barely above a whisper. “The band, the music, everything… it’s what keeps me going. If I let myself rest, even for a second, I feel like I’ll lose it.”
Your chest tightened. You knew how much Slipknot meant to him, how much his drumming defined him. It wasn’t just a job—it was his life. His escape. His way of proving to himself, to the world, that he was somebody.
But at what cost?
You knelt down, cupping his face in your hands and forcing him to look at you. “You won’t lose anything, Joey. The band’s not going anywhere. Your talent’s not going anywhere. But you… you’re gonna burn yourself out if you keep this up.”
He looked at you for a long time, something unreadable in his expression. Then, with a weak smile, he pulled you into his lap, arms wrapped around you tightly.
“I’ll take a break,” he murmured, pressing his face into the crook of your neck. “But only if you stay with me.”
You sighed, wrapping your arms around his shoulders. “I’m not going anywhere, dumbass.”
He chuckled softly. “Good. ‘Cause I kinda like having you around.”
You smiled, pressing a kiss to the top of his head. “Then start taking better care of yourself, Joey. I don’t wanna have to keep finding you passed out in random places.”
He hummed, nuzzling into you. “No promises.”
You rolled your eyes but didn’t let go. Fine. If he wasn’t going to take care of himself, then you’d just have to do it for him.
Warning: slight angst, swearing, mentions of alcoholism, and misogynistic behavior (not by Joey)
Joey sits on the tour bus couch next to me, attempting to get his eye makeup off with a small wet wipe. He ties his sweaty black hair back in a low pony and firmly rubs the wipe over his closed eye. I’m Slipknots backing keyboardist and though I’m our only female member I come with some perks that help out A LOT, such as helping the guys get makeup off without filleting their skin.
"This shit won’t come off my face…" Joey grumbles, trying but miserably failing to wipe his eyeliner off.
I glance over and see him struggling to get his makeup off.
“Here… is it okay if I help?” I ask as I grab a clean, dry cotton pad.
He stops rubbing his eye and looks over at me beside him.
“Yes, please just get this shit off of me. This shits waterproof for some fucking reason,” I could hear the frustration in his voice.
“Well if it wasn’t waterproof you would sweat it all off before the first song is even over,” I explain as I feel his tensed jaw relax in my hand.
After soaking the cotton pad with my makeup remover, I gently grab his face with one hand and watch as he closes his eyes. I take the drenched cotton pad and carefully swipe it over his closed eyelids and lash line. The stubborn eyeliner and black face paint around his eye finally come off with much needed ease. I switched out the now dirty cotton pad for a new one, and after drenching it went over his other eye. Once his face is clear of the black liner and face paint, I hold the mirror up in front of his face.
“I’m done, you can open ‘em now. Does it feel better?” I ask watching his icey blue eyes flutter open to glance in the mirror.
“Yeah… thank you, Dana. You did it much better than how I was doing it. God knows I’ve been trying to get this shit off of me for how long now,” He sighs in relief, and cracks a faint smile before setting the mirror back on the table.
“You were about to have a moment there, weren’t you?” I tease him as I start cleaning off the table.
I see him scoff and roll his eyes from my peripheral. He crosses his arms defensively and leans back into the couch.
“No I wasn’t.” He grumbles whilst lying through his teeth. I can tell he’s still pretty frustrated with the makeup, so I lighten up our banter.
“You know… I’d do the same. There’s so much stress already from this leg of the tour, and Corey ‘n Chris can’t stop arguing behind closed doors.” I express with clear exhaustion.
Joey nods in agreement and I sigh as I finish putting my stuff away from the table.
“Ugh don’t remind me… those two idiots have been at each other’s throats for the whole tour so far. I swear one of these days they’ll rip each other’s heads off,” he says with an annoyed scoff and an eye roll.
I lean back on the couch facing towards Joey as we rant.
“I mean I understand Corey is the lead singer and all, but you Shawn and him founded the band in the first place. He can’t always be the one in complete control over the band, you know?” I explain.
Joey nods in agreement knowing damn well I’m right. He sighs again and rubs his face.
“Trust me I know. It just pisses me off how he thinks that he can boss us around just because he’s the lead fucking singer,” he pauses a second before speaking up once more. “And don’t get me started on Shawn, he’s always blindly agreeing with Corey without question,” he adds.
“Yeah…I’m only staying here because you, Chris, Paul, Craig and Sid.” I confessed.
Joey glanced over at me, his expression softening. He knows the rest of the band can be real assholes towards me, especially Corey.
“Yeah, those guys can be dickheads sometimes. They need to learn cut you some slack,” he pauses for just a moment and leans a tad closer.
“But I’m glad you’re sticking around. I like having you here, you’re different from the guys, you know?”
I chuckle a bit and reply.
“Well, I am a woman so that makes a difference,” I smile.
He chuckles as well, nodding in agreement.
“True. The chick in a room full of dudes. I bet it feels like you’re surrounded by a bunch of cavemen sometimes, huh?” He inquires playfully.
“Oh for sure!” I respond with a nod.
He snickers at my comment, and leans a little closer with his smirk showing more.
“Trust me, these idiots can be real animals sometimes. Especially Corey and Mick. They act like fucking dogs,” he adds.
I chuckle and smile.
“I feel like out of them all because you grew up with sisters, you’re the least feral along with Craig because he’s just silent,” I mention.
He cackles and smiles realizing my valid point.
“Yeah, my sisters definitely helped me keep some sanity, or least decency. Growing up with them probably made me much more civilized, compared to these fuckheads,” he gestures to out where the rest of the guys presumably were. “But seriously, you have know idea how nice it is to have a girl with us. It gets pretty damn sausagey ‘round here,” he continues.
“Sausagey? What the fuck does that mean? Never heard that one before,” I laugh in disbelief at his odd descriptor.
He laughs at my reaction and bewildered expression.
“Yeah, it’s another way of saying there’s not enough estrogen here. You know like sausage party, sausage fest… you get the idea,” he trails off.
“Cause you all have dicks. Too many dicks in a room,” I state bluntly.
Joey bursts out laughing from my straightforward comment.
“Haha- yeah, that’s one way to put it. You’re not wrong about that,” he shakes his head as his chuckles go on.
“Well I mean guys in general just think using the head downstairs, rather than the one upstairs,” I shrug as a chuckle.
“You are absolutely right about that. I swear, the rest of the guys' brains are down there more than they are up here,” He taps his forehead, emphasizing his point.
“I can’t-“ I slap my hands onto my face as I laugh.
Joey grins, enjoying the banter between us. He's amused by my reactions and finds himself drawn in by the witty remarks I make.
"What? Is the truth too much for you to handle?" He jokes, raising a brow and smirking at me. His blue eyes sparkle with mischief.
“I just don’t know how our conversation got to this point,” I countered with a smile.
He just chuckles and shakes his head. He takes his hair down from its low ponytail, and runs a hair through the long black strands with a shrug.
“That’s just how conversations in this band go, especially with me involved. We start on a serious topic and end it on dicks,” he grins, finding amusement in our naturally chaotic conversation. Our conversations on tour pretty much all the time are just like this; witty and full of banter.
“True, true,” I agreed with a bright smile.
Joey leans back into the couch, casting a comfortable silence over us for a moment. I don’t notice, but he steals a quick glance at me, studying the way I sat, noticing how much more I relaxed since earlier.
“Hey, Dana…can I ask you something, kinda personal,” he questions with a more serious tone.
“Sure, what’s up?” I reply.
I see him glance down and hesitate for a second and I glance up between his eyes. He looks like he’s contemplating even asking it. His eyes meet with mine to study my face a second more before speaking up.
“It’s just… I've noticed that you don't seem to get along with Corey too well at all. I mean sure, none of us do right now, but he gives you much more shit than the rest of us, l've noticed that." He pauses for a moment before continuing. “I just wanted to know why that is. I won't judge you, I'm just curious.”
“...well last week he got super drunk and made a comment that struck me hard... it was along the lines of 'Dana's just here cause she's a groupie that’s somehow great on the keys,’ I don't know exactly what it was ‘cause I was tipsy that night, but he completely denied it when I confronted him about it after the fact,” I admitted as I looked down at my fingers that picked at one another.
His expression softened at my revelation. Hearing about Corey's rude and drunken commentary about me made anger bubble up inside him.
“…Yeah… that sounds like something that prick would say… especially when he’s hammered,” he paused to regain composure before going on. “But you are damn good at what you do, you’ve proved that countless times before, to all of us. Don’t let his drunken bullshit get to you, okay?” He asks.
“I didn’t let it, but it’s the other shit he said that night that bugs me. He made crude comments about me, which whatever, not the first time a guy has, but he also made comments towards our waitress and bartender,” I explain.
“Wait hold on, He brought the waitress into this?! Goddamnit what the fuck is his problem?! He’s fucking married too and just cause him and his wife are going through shit doesn’t mean he can take it out on you, or any other women he sees. I can’t believe that asshole would pull that shit!” he belted out in disbelief and frustration.
“I’m just always tense cause he’s almost never sober since the argument with his wife. I never know how hammered he actually is and I feel like I’m just walking on eggshells… I know he doesn’t think about women this way when he’s actually his sober self, but the whole thing fucked with his head too much.” I explain to Joey with a sigh.
He knew Corey’s marriage had been on shaky ground for a while now, and it seemed like it his coping mechanisms were not only taking a toll on Corey's personality, but how he is with the band, interacting with others, and potentially our fans.
"Yeah, I get it. His relationship with his wife has been going downhill, and it's probably eating away at him. I just wish he'd handle his problems without drinking and resorting to acting like a total ass all the time... this shits breaking up the band and getting bystanders involved," he huffed, visibly shaken up over Corey’s recklessness and lack of respect for others and himself.
“Yeah… you’re telling me…” I sit back and take a deep breath.
Joey watches me for a second and sees just how much this is truly weighing on me.
“You look tired. Dealing with his shit can wear any sane person down fast. I’m really sorry Dana… you shouldn’t have to lose sleep over this.” He apologized on behalf of Corey.
“I’m just physically tired… the pyro in this leg of the tour is much more than I’m used to. I keep getting migraines even with ear plugs, and my tinnitus isn’t happy with me. I mean the shit with Corey comes into play too I guess,” I express to him.
“Migraines and tinnitus huh… damn that’s brutal. You’ve been taking care of yourself though, right? Resting, eating enough, all that shit?” He asked concern evident in his tone.
“I do what I can In a tour bus,” I shrug.
He chuckled a bit at the witty response.
“Yeah I get it. Tour life isn’t easy at all but you gotta do the best you can. You can’t let it completely wreck your health,” he stated, still holding concern.
“I won’t, I promise,” I glance up at him with a slight smile. He smiled back knowing just how resilient I was despite everything that’s gone on with the guys.
“I believe you. You’re tough. You’ve been handling a lot of this with grace, at least it looks like it from my perspective. Just please make sure you don’t push yourself too hard, alright? We need you here, Dana,” he reassures.
“I know Joey, I know trust me. I appreciate you thinking about me…”
He nodded and smiled warmly. He genuinely cares about me and my well being, I think even a bit more than I realize.
“Well of course I’m thinking about you. You’re part of this band now which makes you part of this fucked up circus we got going on here. Plus, someone’s gotta look out for you,” he piped up.
“Are you trying to be the ‘Prince Charming’ of the psycho circus,” I chuckled with a curious expression.
“Oh you’re damn right. I’m the Prince of the Psychos, and don’t you forget it. I’ll ride in on my white horse and all these crazy fucks. Just call me your knight in shining armor, sweetheart,” he chuckled.
I shake my head with a smirk and nudge him playfully, as the others load up the underbelly storage of the bus. Joey laughs along with me and returns the light nudge. He glances outside to watch the guys for a second before turning back to face me.
“Looks like they’ve got everything figured out for once. Those dipshits… at least they’re good for something,” he jokes shaking his head in amusement.
I smile at his comment and chuckle a bit. He returns the smile, pleased that he got me to laugh again. He shifts a bit on the couch getting into more of a comfortable position and lightly pats the spot right beside him.
“Hey, come here. Sit next to me for a sec I wanna ask you something,” he requested.
“Yeah?” I ask as I scoot over right beside him.
He wraps an arm around my shoulder and pulls me in closer. He looks at me with eyes that show a softness I’ve never seen before as well as hint of something more.
“There’s something I’ve been curious about recently, and I just need to ask you straight up. You can be honest with me, alright?” He admits.
“Yeah, totally,” I add back.
He takes a deep breath and when he exhales I notice his arm draped around my shoulder pulls me ever so slightly closer. Our eyes meet, both shedding a mix of emotions, curiosity, nerves, and another feeling I can’t put a name to.
“I’ve noticed the way you interact with the other guys. You’re kind, understanding, patient as hell. You put up with their bullshit, their dumb jokes and crazy antics. But with me…” he pauses only for a second and I can sense where this is going. “It’s different with me, isn’t it?” He resumes.
“Well what kind of different are you talking about…? Like a bad different or-“ he can hear the self doubt in my voice.
“No, not a bad different. Sorry, that came out wrong- I mean... You're more open with me, more comfortable around me. You don't seem to have your guard up as much, and you seem... I don't know, more at ease when we talk." He studies my expression carefully, searching for any hints of what I’m feeling.
“I just- I just feel like I don’t need to be ready for anything with you, I can just relax and let go,” I admit softly, though with hesitation he can sense. He gently runs his hand up and down my upper arm.
“Yeah, I get that. I notice you’re so damn guarded around everyone else, like you’re bracing yourself for whatever they do. But with me you let your guard down, and it’s refreshing,” he shares with a soothing hum.
“Yeah… it really is…” I calmly say back.
Joey smiles slightly at the response. his hand moving from my shoulder to gently tuck a strand of hair behind my ear. He leans in a little closer, his voice dropping to a near whisper.
"Can you... can you tell me what you're thinking right now? I just... I need to know if my instincts are right." He inquires.
"It's just us... the questions and conversation after the chaos... you're voice..." I admit shyly.
"My voice, huh? What about it?" He pries more.
“It’s nice… and it kinda makes me feel like I’m home,” I muttered.
“At home huh… I like that,” he takes a moment then finishes his train of thought, “can I just ask you one last question?”
“…is it if I like you…?” I watch his eyes widen in surprise from just how perceptive I really am.
“Yeah… that’s what I was gonna ask…so I mean… do you? Shit sorry I mean like me- like as more than a friend?” He rambles.
“I mean, it’s a 50/50 chance… you wanna guess?” I say attempting to bring back the lighthearted banter.
“You’re always messing with me, but sure I’ll play along. So… let me go out on a limb here and say… yes, you like me as more than a friend.”
“How could you tell?” I said dripping with sarcasm and a light laugh.
“Oh come on, give me some credit here! I’ve noticed the way you look at me, the way you gravitate towards me, and let your guard down… it’s not exactly subtle after a while” he chuckles as his eyes refuse to leave mine. “And let’s be real, I can be pretty observant when I wanna be.”
“…you’re not weirded out though…right?” I ask seeking his assurance. Thankfully he shakes his head, and his visage softens more.
I feel his hand take mine and intertwine our fingers. My heart pounds against my ribs, like a dove in its cage begging to be freed. As if on cue, the dove frantically fluttering in my chest calm from Joey’s thumb tracing light small circles on the back of my hand.
“…if it’s any consolation… I feel the same. I’ve been crushing fucking hard.” his admission was a soothing balm to my frantic mind, and I can’t help but rest my head on his shoulder.
“I guess I get to live out my dream of finally playing with your hair,” I chuckle softly.
“Go right ahead, knock yourself out. I’m all yours to play with,” he replied with a suggestive undertone.
I gently ran my fingers through his deep black locks, gently twisting and twirling the strands as I did so. He eases into my touch and sighs happily. His eyes close as he relishes in the feeling of my fingers gliding through his hair, a small sigh leaving his lips.
“God… that feels fucking good…” he hums lowly.
I feel my stress completely unravel from my fingers aimlessly dancing around on his head.
“This feels like home to me J,”
His heart swells at my words, his arms tighten around me tugging me in closer. He buries his head into the crook of my neck inhaling deeply as he nuzzled into me, the scent of my shampoo intoxicating him.
“Yeah…I know exactly what you mean. Being with you, right here feels like this is exactly where I’m supposed to be…” he grumbles softly into my ear.
I tilt my head to the side, and he takes advantage of the new angle. His lips brush against the sensitive skin of my neck, leaving a soft trail of peppered kisses down to my clavicle. He gently nibbles down on a sweet spot I didn’t even know I had, making me sigh as he left faint marks on my skin.
“You don’t know how long I’ve wanted to do this… having you like this, all to myself, feeling your skin under my lips… fuck Dana…” he whispers, his voice low and needy.
“Mmm~ Joey…” I softly gasp.
He runs his hand down my side, his touch firm, and possessive, before pausing at my hip, his fingers gripping me gently.
“You have no idea the things you do to me…” he whispers into my ear once more, nipping at my earlobe lightly.
“…Neither do you~” I say in a delicate purr.
He chuckles at my retort, his hand slowly traveling down from my hip to my thigh, caressing the sensitive skin there. His body presses even closer to mine, his lips hovering over the my neck again, his breath hot against it.
“Careful now, sweetheart~ don’t tease me too much with those pretty gasps of yours, or I might lose control of myself,” he lowly whispered.
“…I just hope you’re not upset with me being exhausted to do much more J…” I softly murmur back.
“‘Course not baby… I understand. You’ve been through hell and back on this tour, I don’t expect you to have any energy left. And bell even if you weren’t tired, I’d be more than happy just to hold you like this the whole night,” he reassures.
“I’d like that…”
Joey smiles, loving the way I fit against him perfectly. He tucks my head under his chin, his arms wrapping around me like a protective shield. He lets out a content sigh, his body warm and comfortable against mine. He gently pulls my leg over his lap, his touch possessive and yet tender.
“Good…because I’m not letting you go anytime soon…”
I nuzzle the back of my head into the crook of his neck and feel my eyes grow heavy.
“…I love you Joey…” I whisper softly.
His heart skips a beat as my words wash over him, his arms subconsciously tightening around me holding me so so close. He feels a surge of emotion rush through him, a mixture of joy, happiness, and a hint of protectiveness. He buries his face in my hair, inhaling my scent, and savoring the moment.
"I love you too, sweetheart. God, I've wanted to say that for so damn long."
As the bus starts up the soft rumble lulls me to sleep. Joey chuckles softly as he feels me drift off to sleep in his arms, a wave of affection washing over him. He gently rearranges himself, making sure that we’re both as comfortable as we can possibly be. He watches as my breathing becomes steady and slow, noting how peaceful I look in sleep. His chest warm against the back of my scalp, as he gently kisses the top of my head
hi! could i ask you to write some headcannons for joey jordison, like going on a date with him or smth (sorry for my english i'm argentinian, hope you have a nice day!♡)
oooo okay I can try!! I put this in my usual format that I use for dating shenanigans / headcanons from other fandoms so if this didn't touch anything you were looking for, I apologize </3 ; if you do want me to do like a drabble of a first date (or dates before officially dating) or anything like that feel free to send it to my inbox! ; and no worries about the english at all!! ; thank you for requesting, hope you enjoy!! ; this kinda sucks cause I'm not used to doing dating hcs / shenanigans anymore but I tried 😔🙏
JOEY JORDISON ; dating shenanigans
summary ; dating shenanigans with joey!
warnings ; language
word count ; 567
masterlist
this man is so passionate about loving you and making you happy
you once mention your love for an artist / band? he's getting you all their cds / records
he's always driving you around, even on random backroads you haven't seen before if there's nothing else to do
he carries a strip of pictures of you and him in his wallet, and you have matching ones you keep in yours
he burns cds for you all the time (thanks to craig teaching him how to do it)
you're each other's therapists
and yes he's constantly asking if you can adopt a cat or two together
you first met in high school
he was hanging out at his locker, listening to music while you were trying to organize your things during the last week of junior year
he decided to help you because even if it was your lunch period, you had places to be afterwards
plus you looked really stressed and had a giant pile of trash laying beside you
but you lost contact over the summer
you regained contact a few years out of high school when he and his band were performing at a bar you worked at
they lowkey slapped but you didn't know it was joey behind the mask who sat at the drums
he actually found you after the show since he noticed your face in the crowd and wanted to catch up with you
plus he wanted some bar snacks for him and his band mates
plus!!! if you're into music / in a band, he spends the rest of the night yapping about his drums & whatever you play
you confessed first
he was way too scared to come to terms with his feelings
like not even corey or paul could get this mofo to go up to you and admit he's into you
you kinda just spilled your guts in the car with him one day and he stared at you while some acid bath was playing
he turns the radio down slowly and looks at you with this confused, deadpan stare
holy fuck you thought you ruined it all
but he pressed a quick kiss to your lips and reassured you that he did like you back
he's just shocked you reciprocate
he's maybe a 5 or 6 on pda
not big on it but yes he will hold your hand, give you kisses etc etc in public or around friends
he's not really jealous unless it comes to his friends, mostly like sid and maybe corey
he's barely even jealous of you being chill with them, he's mostly "jealous" because he doesn't want them telling you awful stories about him cause they would and will do so
but if you're in a very crowded place, a concert or a bar, he's clinging onto you because he doesn't want to be alone in a sea of people and doesn't wanna lose you
but on a 1-10 scale, I'd say maybe a 2
he's not egotistical at all, but he kinda knows you're not gonna leave him for anyone else because you both crave to have a special bond, and you're not building that with anyone else lmao
