#Jim Root X Reader

[sacr3d-joeyxx]

Hidden In Plain Sight

Paul x Reader

TW: Mentions of Anxiety & Panic Attacks

It was a long night and they had finished up with an excruciatingly long show, and you’re going around checking on everyone..most of them are with their partners or doing a signing.. but you’re looking for Paul..your husband…it can’t be that hard to find him..can it? Well to answer your question apparently..it is..I mean you were calling his phone..calling him by his name but no answer..it wasn’t as loud as it was about an hour ago but it was still loud..maybe he was put on the signing table with Joey, Sid, and Mick?..Only one way to find out!

“Pauly!!”

You shouted out loud, but no response..it’s odd that he’s not responding.. but you decided to give up looking backstage and go over to the signing table…maybe he’s over there?..However a problem soon arose..flash photography and fans in general..I mean you were used to it but it’s still annoying…you’ve been married to him for 4 years..dated for 3…

*Flashing lights*

It’s starting, the swarm of people who want to ask you questions about you and Paul but also the band in general..It was worse than what you were expecting..it’s much worse..The funny part is, well it’s not funny at all but you have anxiety and don’t do well in these situations..that’s why you’re normally backstage or on the tour bus waiting for it to be over and done with. You hated being in this situation..worse of all you still could not for the life of you find Paul..it’s like they keep closing in on you more than they ever have..it got to the point where you just snapped and raised your voice at them.. you didn’t want to be it was getting to much to bare..it felt like your lungs were getting tighter and tighter, to the point where you could breathe..

“STOP! LEAVE ME ALONE”

They didn’t register the reaction fast enough and you were able to quickly run away and get to a safer place for your own safety…you managed to get to the green room..it was very calm and quiet..and it helped you calm down..breathing in and out slowly helped a lot.. but having Paul by your side would be nicer.. but it’s like a ghost made Paul appear and there he was coming out of the green room bathroom that they had..he had been in there only for a couple of minutes..but it didn’t matter because he was here now.

“Darling..baby? Oh..hey hey it’s okay”

He picked you up in his big strong arms and held you close while petting your head like he’s done many times before..he kisses your cheek then your forehead.. he whispers in your ear..

“Hey..it’s okay..just keep breathing..there you go”

He kept saying that over and over..until you calmed down a bit to the point where you were able to talk.. and he asked you what happened and you explained the situation..he started to feel bad because he wasn’t there to protect you.. but you explained to him it wasn’t his fault over and over again..

“Sweetheart..its okay..I’m here now..”

[ghost-in-the-hall]

Slipknot Drabbles: What They Wear To Bed FLUFF

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.

[lizz-oi8]

Slipknot/ How they feel about an s/o who does piercings

Corey- Corey thinks having a S/O who does piercings is super cool. He let you pierce his eyebrow and he whined like a bitch while it was healing. You had to clean it because he would forget a lot. Once it was healed, he showed it off to everyone.

Craig- Surprisingly, he was afraid of needles. Although, he really liked watching you do piercings. Sometimes he would come to your job just to watch you do piercings. He likes to play with your piercings and sometimes he'll pull on them and ask if it hurts. Eventually, you convince him to get his ears pierced and he surprisingly liked them but he didn't want more lol

Chris- Chris loved that you did piercings. He wasn't really interested in facial piercings but he was interested in a different kind of piercings ;). He wanted a double-dydoe piercing. (it's a piercing on your dick) Just like Corey, he whined like a bitch about the healing process. In the end, he really liked it

Shawn- Shawn wasn't really interested in it. Sure, he liked that you did him, but personally, he didn't want any. He would buy you piercing stuff and new jewelry and stuff

Mick- Mick let you pierce his nasallang. He really liked it. He was really responsible with it, he cleaned it twice daily and he even checked with you to see if he could change the jewelry. He did complain a bit about the pain but he toughed it out

Jim- Jim was really interested. He let you peirce his septum and his nostril. Thanks to you, he became really interested in piercings. He would admire yours and he would always show off his own. He would tell everyone about your piercing skills

Sid- Sid loved it. He would let you pierce everything on him. He got his belly button, nipples, nostril, ears, and eyebrow. He was so excited, he got all of them done in one day. He didn't even complain about the healing. He was so happy when they were all healed. He would play with them and show them off

[jimsbeetroot]

no nut november ♱ jim root

Title: “No nut november” Pairing: Jim Root x Female Reader Genre: SMUT! Word count: ~ 4000-ish words

It was maddening — a deep, throbbing kind of frustration that pulsed between your legs and gnawed at the edges of your sanity. You weren’t just horny, you were feral for him. You'd offered yourself to Jim in every filthy, desperate way imaginable — bending over in a towel with nothing underneath, whispering filth into his ear before bed, even slipping your hand down his pants while he watched TV. Every time, he shut you down.

Usually, just a passing glance or the brush of your thigh against his crotch was enough to get him hard and ready to ruin you. But now? His hands — those big, sinful things that used to grope your tits, spank your ass, and choke you just right — stayed locked in his pockets. His jaw clenched every time you touched him like he was barely holding back from tearing your clothes off.

Subtle glances. Playful touches. Whispers in his ear about how wet you were for him. Begging him silently to pin you down, fill you up, fuck you until your knees gave out. But Jim kept his distance, stoic and cold like a monk sworn to chastity.

Two weeks. Two fucking weeks. No sex, no kisses beyond a tired peck, no lazy morning head, no grabbing you by the throat and pushing you into the mattress with that cocky growl of his. You felt discarded, stripped of the part of Jim that devoured you. What the hell had changed?

The answer? That damn bet.

“A whole month? Without sex? No fucking way.”

Jim’s voice had been tight with disbelief, his arms crossed as Sid pitched the idiotic idea over lunch. “No Nut November,” he said with a smug grin. What started as a joke twisted into a challenge — and Jim, ever the prideful bastard, couldn’t back down. Especially not in front of the rest of Slipknot.

They all assumed he’d crack first. Everyone knew about the two of you — how you’d sneak off mid-tour, fuck in closets, bathrooms, dressing rooms, wherever you could find five minutes and a locked door. Loud, sweaty, animalistic sex that left bruises and bite marks. Jim had a reputation for being insatiable, the first to fold, the one who couldn’t go a day without having you on your knees.

And maybe that’s what got under his skin — the teasing. The idea that he didn’t have control. That he was ruled by his cock. He had something to prove.

So he agreed.

And you were suffering for it.

—

That night, when Jim came home, the full weight of what he’d agreed to began pressing down like a vice.

You were waiting for him in your shared apartment, excitement practically vibrating off your skin. You’d texted earlier that day, a few teasing photos sent with no words at all. Your body — always his favourite playground — was dressed in nothing but a black lace robe that clung to your curves and hinted at everything underneath. You’d lit candles, queued up a playlist you knew drove him insane, and even tucked a bottle of bourbon in the corner, his favourite.

The moment he walked through the door, you launched yourself into his arms, climbing his massive 6'6 stature like a monkey.

“Hey, baby,” you purred, arms winding tight around his waist.

Jim stiffened. His arms didn’t wrap around you like they usually did. No quick grope of your ass, no hand at the back of your neck pulling you in for a hungry kiss.

He cleared his throat. “Hey.”

You blinked, confused, your hands smoothing down his chest. “Long day?”

“Yeah.”

That was all he said. He peeled himself away from you gently, his large hands placing you back on the ground again, moving into the apartment without so much as a glance at the seductive spread you’d prepared.

You followed him, heart sinking. “Well... I thought maybe I could help you relax a little. Take the edge off.” You stepped in front of him, fingers dipping beneath the hem of his shirt.

Jim caught your wrists gently but firmly. “I’m just gonna take a shower.”

You stared at him, stunned. “Alone?”

“Yeah.”

He was gone before you could say another word, disappearing into the bathroom and clicking the door shut with a finality that felt like a slap.

You stood there in silence, your body aching with the rejection. You hadn’t just wanted sex — you’d wanted connection, intimacy, the part of Jim that only you got to see when his guard was down. And he hadn’t just said no — he’d walked away without looking back.

In the bathroom, Jim braced his hands against the sink, staring at his reflection. He looked like a man at war — and he was. His cock had been hard since you greeted him at the door, already aching just from your touch. But he couldn’t do it. Not tonight. Not after what he’d agreed to.

He muttered, “Fucking Sid,” under his breath and turned on the shower.

Behind the door, you waited.

And waited.

And as the water ran and your candles burned lower, the ache in your chest deepened. You wrapped your robe tighter around yourself and retreated to the couch, alone, wondering what the hell had just happened — and why the man who usually worshipped your body now seemed like he couldn’t even stand to touch you.

You didn’t even hear the water shut off. Just the quiet creak of the bathroom door, and then the soft shuffle of Jim’s feet moving down the hallway — not toward you, but toward the bedroom. He didn’t say anything. Didn’t call your name. Didn’t even look.

That was the final straw.

You stood abruptly, the lace robe falling open just enough to show skin, and stormed after him.

He was sitting on the edge of the bed in a clean shirt and boxers, a towel slung around his neck, drying his hair like none of this was even happening. Like he hadn’t just ignored every part of you.

“Do you not want me anymore?” Your voice cracked before you could stop it.

He paused mid-motion, eyes lifting to meet yours. “What?”

You stepped closer, trembling with frustration and something deeper — desperation. “Do you not want me? Just say it. Just—fuck, just say it. Why won’t you touch me? Why won’t you fuck me?”

He let out a breath, slow and controlled but didn’t answer.

You dropped to your knees in front of him, voice shaking. “Let me show you. Let me prove it.”

“Y/N—”

But you were already tugging at his waistband, hands fumbling. You could feel the heat of him, already hard beneath the fabric despite everything. It made your breath hitch — maybe you weren’t crazy. Maybe he did still want you. Maybe he was just punishing himself.

You leaned in, lips brushing his skin just above the waistband, your voice barely above a whisper. “Please.”

Jim’s hand suddenly caught your arm, firm but not rough.

“No.”

You looked up at him, stunned. “No?”

He pulled you up from the floor with one swift, overwhelming motion, arms locking around you as he sat back on the bed. You straddled his lap now, your breathing erratic, heart hammering against his.

He buried his face in your neck and held you. Really held you. Like he was trying to memorize your shape all over again.

But it wasn’t the same. His arms were strong, warm, but distant. His breath wasn’t ragged with want, and his body wasn’t melting into yours the way it always had. It was like being hugged by a stranger who wore your boyfriend's skin.

--

“Alright, come on — just spill it,” Sid grinned, eyes gleaming like a devil about to light the fuse. “When did you cave? And how bad was it?”

Jim didn’t flinch. He leaned back in his chair, arms crossed, sunglasses shielding the flicker of irritation in his eyes. His voice came out flat, dark, and final. “Didn’t cave. Not gonna. Stop asking.”

Sid gave an exaggerated groan and flopped back in his seat, but the mischief never left his face. Around the conference room, the rest of the band and crew were lounging, trading smirks and sideways glances. This stupid bet had gone from harmless bravado to a full-blown war of attrition — and Jim, as always, was dead serious.

His silence wasn’t casual. It was loaded. Coiled.

Even Sid was starting to realize that Jim’s legendary self-control wasn’t a bluff — it was a storm gathering under the surface.

In the corner of the room, Jim sat like a statue, jaw locked, thumb rhythmically tapping against his thigh. Tension bled from every inch of him. His mind wasn’t here. It hadn’t been for days. He muttered something beneath his breath — maybe a curse, maybe a prayer — while Mick and Shawn watched with barely contained amusement.

“How you holding up over there, Root?” Chris called out, unable to resist.

Jim didn’t even look up. He just raised a middle finger and kept staring at the table like it might save him from saying something he’d regret.

Chris chuckled. “Where’s Y/N? Haven’t seen her lately.”

Jim’s stomach clenched. His fingers twitched.

“She’s not coming,” he muttered.

“Funny,” Chris said with a smirk. “I talked to her this morning. She said she was dropping by.”

Jim’s chest went tight. Heat climbed up his neck. “What?”

As if summoned by his dread, the door swung open.

“Y/N!” Sid sang out, grinning like the Cheshire cat.

Jim froze.

You entered the room like a storm disguised in sunlight — radiant, warm, unaware of the chaos waiting to detonate. “Hey, guys,” you said sweetly, weaving through the room with a soft smile. The second your eyes landed on Jim, you beamed and leaned down to kiss him.

He turned his face away.

Your lips missed his skin entirely.

You blinked, stunned. Pulled back, confusion quickly turning to humiliation. “Seriously?”

You stood upright, your smile gone. Two weeks of cold shoulders. Two weeks of half-hearted hugs, dodged kisses, and you pretending it didn’t hurt. But this — this was a fucking slap in the face.

“Well, clearly I’m not welcome here,” you said sharply, folding your arms.

“What? No—come on, Y/N,” Chris said quickly, trying to defuse the crackling air. “We love when you stop by.”

“Maybe you do,” you replied icily, eyes locked on Jim. “But I’m pretty sure he doesn’t.”

Jim exhaled through his nose and dragged a hand down his face, like he was physically holding in whatever was clawing at his insides.

And then, like a bomb, Sid burst into laughter.

“Oh my god, wait—he hasn’t told her?” Sid wheezed, slapping the table.

The laughter spread like wildfire — Mick smirking behind his coffee, Corey shaking his head, Shawn grinning silently.

Jim’s hands curled into fists in his lap. He looked like he wanted to sink into the floor.

“Tell me what?” you asked, voice cold as ice.

Sid leaned forward dramatically. “We dared each other to do No Nut November.”

Your heart dropped.

You stared at Jim like you didn’t even recognize him. “You want to run that by me again?”

Jim opened his mouth, but no words came. Just a sigh.

“Y/N, I was gonna—”

“How long have you been doing this behind my back?” You stepped closer, voice sharp enough to draw blood.

“Two weeks.”

The room erupted again with knowing groans and snorts of laughter. Everyone here knew the two of you. Two weeks might as well have been two months. Your relationship had always been fire — raw, messy, beautiful. You needed each other like oxygen. And now, suddenly, he was withholding that intimacy like it was a game?

“A fucking bet?” you asked, voice cracking with disbelief.

Jim swallowed hard. “It’s not just a bet. It’s—”

“Don’t.” You stepped back, trembling with fury. “Don’t try to make it noble. Don’t act like it’s some personal crusade when you’ve been icing me out without even telling me why.”

The room went silent.

“How many of you idiots are still doing this?” you asked, turning to the others.

Sid, Chris, Corey, and Craig raised their hands sheepishly.

“Jesus Christ,” you muttered, shaking your head. You could feel your face burning. You weren’t embarrassed — you were furious. Furious that he’d made you question your worth, your desirability, your connection, just to prove a point to the band.

You locked eyes with Jim one last time, and this time your voice was low, seething, vulnerable. “You let me think I’d done something wrong.”

He looked stricken. “I didn’t mean—”

“No,” you said, backing toward the door. “You chose to shut me out. You made me feel like a burden.”

Then you were gone — the door clicking shut behind you like the final note of a song no one wanted to hear.

And Jim just sat there, unmoving, surrounded by laughter that no longer reached him. And you, you'd officially decided, that you were going to break that man, and you knew exactly how.

—

“Y/N?”

Jim’s voice broke the silence, rough and uncertain, drifting in from the doorway.

You didn’t answer — not with words.

You lay sprawled across the bed, silk sheets twisted around your thighs, one hand buried between them. Your other arm lay above your head, gripping the pillow as soft whimpers slipped from your lips. Two fingers curled deep inside your soaked cunt, rhythm slow, deliberate — not nearly enough, but it was all you had.

The sound of your moan made him stop in his tracks.

“Y/N…” His voice faltered, turned into a strained whisper. “…fuck.”

He stepped into view, eyes blown wide, jaw slack. The sight of you — flushed and glistening in the low light, your legs spread open, hips rocking up to meet your hand — hit him like a punch to the gut. His cock throbbed painfully in his jeans, straining for release.

He didn’t move toward you.

Didn’t say another word.

He turned on his heel and tried to leave.

“Jim!” you called, breathless, your voice cracking on the edge of a moan.

He hesitated.

“Come back,” you whispered, sliding two fingers out of yourself and bringing them to your lips. You licked them slow, deliberate. “I know you can’t cum. I’m not asking for that. But I’m so fucking wet… and I need you.”

He turned, his face flushed and unreadable, eyes flickering between your parted thighs and your mouth.

“Jesus Christ,” he muttered.

But he was already walking toward you.

The second his knees hit the mattress, he was on you — hands warm, greedy, sliding down your stomach and parting your thighs even wider. His fingers replaced yours, plunging into your dripping heat with a quiet groan. You whimpered, arching into his touch.

“Fuck, baby,” he muttered, watching your face contort as he worked you open.

His mouth followed — warm breath against your pussy, the soft brush of his beard sending a shiver up your spine before his tongue licked a slow, devastating stripe through your folds. You gasped, thighs twitching around his head, fingers tangling in his hair as he sucked your clit into his mouth and held it there, firm and wet.

“Jim—oh, God—” You cried out, grinding against his face, your legs trembling.

He moaned into you, the vibration shooting through your core like lightning. His free hand reached up, kneading your breast, pinching your nipple until you bucked beneath him.

“You’re fucking soaked, baby,” he groaned, licking you deeper, tongue plunging into your cunt before dragging back up to suck your clit again. “You want it that bad?”

You nodded desperately, unable to speak. Your whole body was shaking.

“Say it,” he growled.

“I—I need you,” you gasped. “Need you inside me, need you to fuck me, please.”

He pulled back just enough to lock eyes with you — dark and intense, face slick with your arousal.

“Look at me when you cum,” he said, voice like gravel and sex and everything you craved.

You did — eyes wide and glassy as your orgasm hit, your thighs clamping around his head, your whole body going tight and then shuddering apart.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck—Jim!” you sobbed, trembling, grinding against his mouth as he licked you through every last wave of pleasure.

When you finally stilled, panting, your hand still fisted in his hair, you looked down at him, dazed and needy.

“Please,” you whispered. “Please just fuck me. You’re hard. I feel how hard you are. I want you so bad it hurts.”

He groaned, forehead resting on your thigh.

You reached for the waistband of his jeans, fingers brushing the outline of his cock, thick and pulsing under the denim.

But he caught your wrist. Gently. Firm.

“No,” he said, eyes shut tight. “No, baby. If I do, I’ll cum the second I’m inside you. I can’t—”

“You can,” you whispered, leaning up to kiss his jaw, his neck. “Just once. Break the bet. Please. For me.”

His entire body tensed. His cock twitched against your leg. But he yanked himself back, swearing under his breath.

“Fuck!”

He scrambled off the bed, pacing the room like a caged animal.

You watched him, bare and wrecked, legs still spread, his taste on your tongue.

“Where the fuck are you going?” you called after him, smirking even through the ache between your thighs.

He grabbed his keys off the table with a frustrated grunt, his hard-on straining obscenely beneath his jeans.

“For a drive!” he shouted back, slamming the door.

Not angry at you.

He was angry at himself.

Because this stupid fucking bet was destroying him.

And you? You were going to be the death of him.

—

The days after Jim had made you cum were unbearable — for both of you.

He thought he could handle it. Thought that giving you just a taste — his fingers buried in your dripping cunt, your body writhing beneath him, the sound of your breathless cries in his ears — would be enough.

But he was wrong.

That moment had wrecked him. Every night since, he woke up rock hard, haunted by the memory of your heat, the way you clenched around his fingers, how you whimpered his name like a prayer you couldn't stop repeating.

And you? You’d made it ten times worse. Parading around the apartment like temptation incarnate — sometimes completely naked, sometimes in lacy little things that left nothing to the imagination. Bent over innocently to grab something, hips swaying. Moaning softly in the shower, loud enough for him to hear.

It was torture. And somehow, Jim was still holding the line.

Barely.

You had to give him credit. You would've folded days ago if the roles were reversed. But Jim, he was like a brick wall. Resisting every pull, every look, every desperate plea.

Now, the end of November was in sight. Just three more days.

But you couldn't take it anymore.

His hands were magic — sure — but nothing compared to the stretch of his thick cock ramming into you, making your legs shake and your mind melt. You were practically dripping just thinking about it.

You needed him.

“Jim…” you whined dramatically, throwing yourself into his lap like a bratty little nymph in heat.

He didn’t even flinch this time. The man had grown resilient.

Sitting with his laptop, brows furrowed in concentration, he barely reacted as you curled against him and clung to his neck like a needy kitten.

“What’s going on?” he asked, casually, rubbing your back like this wasn’t hell for him.

You leaned in and whispered against his ear, “I want it. So bad it fucking hurts.”

Jim froze. His muscles tensed under your hands as he shifted on the couch, obviously trying to hide his growing erection.

“Three more days, Y/N,” he said, voice rough and low. “Just three.”

You ground your hips down onto him, feeling his cock twitch through his jeans. “No. I need it now.”

Your fingers snaked down between the two of you, brushing over his bulge as you straddled him fully. He sucked in a sharp breath and jolted, lifting you off his lap with a groan of frustration.

“This isn’t fun anymore,” he growled, standing up, and running a hand through his hair. “Fuck this stupid game.”

He grabbed his phone and paced the room like a man possessed.

“Chris,” he said sharply into the phone. “You better be honest with me—who’s actually still doing this No Nut November bullshit?”

You sat on the couch, biting your lip, silently begging for the right answer.

Please, God. Let it be no one.

You couldn’t make out the rest of the conversation. Didn’t matter.

Because when Jim returned, his eyes were darker. Hungrier. And that smirk…

“Go upstairs,” he said, voice like sin. “Take your clothes off. I’ll be up in two minutes.”

You squealed and practically sprinted up the stairs, heart pounding.

Stripping faster than humanly possible, you tossed everything aside and crawled onto the bed, anticipation knotting in your stomach.

The door creaked open.

Jim walked in, shirtless, belt already unbuckled. His eyes roamed over your naked body like a man starved.

“Knees.”

You dropped instantly, obedient and breathless, kneeling on the floor with your thighs pressed together to relieve the ache between them.

Jim brushed your hair back, his fingers tender as they cupped your cheek. Then he tied your hair back into a makeshift ponytail with the elastic from his wrist.

“Fuck,” he whispered, voice wrecked, “I’ve missed this pretty mouth.”

He undid his jeans just enough to free himself — thick, flushed, rock hard.

You didn’t wait. You wrapped your hand around his shaft and gave a few long strokes before sliding just the tip between your lips.

But Jim was too far gone for teasing.

He grabbed the back of your head and pushed in, slow but firm, groaning as the head of his cock slipped into your throat.

You moaned around him, eyes fluttering shut. After four years, your gag reflex was practically nonexistent, and you took him like you were made for it.

“Fuck, baby,” Jim groaned, hips rolling as he fucked your throat with increasing urgency. “You feel so fucking good.”

Tears pricked the corners of your eyes, spit dribbling down your chin, but you didn’t care. You wanted to be used. Needed it.

His cock twitched against your tongue. His hips stuttered.

And then— “Shit, I’m gonna—fuck, take it—”

He spilt down your throat with a loud, broken moan, hips jerking against your mouth as you swallowed everything, hands gripping his thighs to steady yourself.

When it was over, he pulled out slowly, watching as you wiped your mouth and stared up at him with that same wicked gleam.

“Good girl,” he said, breathless, offering his hand.

You took it, and the second your lips met his, it was pure fire.

His mouth crashed onto yours as he pulled you onto the bed, stripping what little was left of your clothes and tossing them aside as they offended him.

“You’ve got no idea how many times I’ve thought about this,” he murmured as he stared down at you, his voice rasping with lust.

Then, he grabbed your hand and dragged it between your legs, pressing your fingers into your dripping cunt.

“You’re soaked,” he groaned. “You’ve been like this for days, haven’t you?”

“I don’t want your fingers,” you gasped, trembling. “Just fuck me, Jim. Please.”

He didn’t hesitate.

He lined himself up, eyes on yours, and kissed your forehead as he slowly pushed into you.

The stretch burned beautifully.

Your back arched and a surprised cry tore from your throat.

“Shh,” Jim whispered, resting his forehead against yours. “It’s okay. I’ve got you.”

Once he was fully inside, he stilled, giving you a moment. You were clinging to him, nails in his back, body wrapped around him like you never wanted to let go.

“Move,” you finally whispered.

And he did.

Long, deep strokes that made your breath hitch with every thrust. Your legs locked around his waist, and your body met his with desperation, slick and eager.

“Faster,” you moaned. “Please, faster—”

He growled and pounded into you, the bed creaking beneath you as his cock slammed into you again and again. Every thrust hit deep, right where you needed him until your vision blurred and the pressure in your core snapped.

You came hard, gasping his name, your pussy pulsing around him so tightly he could barely keep moving.

“Look at me,” he commanded, his voice rough.

You forced your eyes open, locking with his just as he lost control.

“F-fuck—Y/N, baby—”

He spilt inside you with a loud groan, hips shuddering as he emptied every drop into your cunt.

When it was over, he collapsed beside you, chest heaving, arms pulling you close.

“That,” he panted, “was both the best and worst month of my life.”

You smiled, still shaking, and curled into him. “Same.”

His laugh rumbled in his chest as he kissed your shoulder. “We are never doing that again.”

[hotgeniusreid]

Vampire Jim Root, that’s it, that the post

[ims0vain]

Hey! Mind writing a fic about Jim getting really jealous and possesive of you while youre with him recording with the band in that mansion they rented for subliminal verses?? Dont have to of course, just an idea!

Hey Anon, thanks for the request! I’d love to write this for you! I’ll brainstorm the idea and get it out as soon as I can! Thank you! 💕

[thatsauceysauce]

Jim root with a virgin reader!!

incredibly gentle, only speading up when you asked

made sure to praise you

admired your breasts the whole time

definitely ate your pussy before

was a little rough

he was definitely a little vocal, letting you know how good you are

doe eyes 100%

he teased your clit

held your hand

after care;

his aftercare was super sweet

told you ab how good you did

brushed and braided your hair

dressed you in his shirt

kissed you all over

licked you clean (ifykwim)

[psych0-str1ngs]

A gangbang?!- Slipknot x f!reader

Authors Note: So it's just gonna be Joey, Sid, James, and Mick, very VERY early knot era. Also this is my first request. AND ANOTHER THING IS THIS IS MY FIRST TIME WRITING A GANGBANG SMUT SO DONT JUDGE ME Y'ALL

Warnings: Choking, spanking, oral, cussing, p in v, brief mentions of drugs and alcohol.

I sat on the couch next to Sid and Jim, holding a bottle of vodka in one hand, and a joint in the other. I leaned my head on sid's shoulder.

"you know Sid," I slurred. "You are looking extra fine rn."

He looked, slightly sweating, he didn't respond, but instead made some weird kind of sound. I laughed. Joey sat on a chair, with his feet on the very edge, staring at mick and James. All of their eyes shifted from eachother's. They were basically talking with their eyes. Corey and Shawn had already went home from practice. I got up and walked to the door, falling all over the place. I giggled and walked out, walking to the bathroom. Walking into the bathroom I tried pulling down my leather pants. I was wearing a black lacy bralette, and black leather pants, with converse, and I was feeling myself to the max. I continued going piss and walked back into the main recording room. Now, all of the guys were staring right at me. Jim walked over to me, towering over me.

"Y/n," He started. "Me and the guys have an offer for you." He got closer.

Joey moved behind me and pressed himself right against my back, grabbing my hips. Now of course, I found all members of slipknot hot but I never expected to fuck any of them, let alone half of the band at once. We were all extremely high and drunk, and maybe if I was sober I would not like what's about to happen but I couldn't care less.

"Oh..." I said shakily. "What uh kind of offer?"

Joey starting kissing up and down my neck. "We want to fuck you y/n, all of us at the same time."

I let out a breathy moan. Sid moved down to right in front of me and started unlacing the front of my pants, looking directly up at me. Jim who was standing right next to me now moved my face to make out with him, his hand was firm on my face. Sid finally got my pants unlaced and pulled them down, licking his lips at the sight of a wet spot in my thong. Mick sat in his chair, watching me intently. Joey stopped kissing my neck and moved to take off his shirt. Mick walked up and lightly pushed Jim away from me, Mick wrapped his big hand around my neck, shoving his tongue down my throat. Sid started lick in between my folds. I moaned.

Jim stripped down to just his boxers, Joey doing the same. Joey and Jim watched the whole thing unfold. Sid suck at my clit, making my legs shake.

"I'm gonna cum!" I moaned.

Sid stopped and stood up, smirking at me. Jim came back over and threw me over his shoulder, throwing me on the couch. He bent me over the side of the couch, grabbing my hips roughly. Joey stood right in front of me and shoved his cock down my throat. Mick and Sid came over to stand next to me. They stroked themselves. Jim slammed his cock inside of me relentlessly, I moaned, the vibration shooting up through Joey's dick. The repeated thrusting into my mouth, combined with Jim's slamming his cock into me was a lot of stimulation. I almost immediately started shaking. Jim probably felt that I was about to cum so he stopped. Joey pulled his cock out of my mouth. I pouted.

"Don't pout so fast baby," Sid said, getting behind me, shoving his cock in. Jim gave hard thrusts but Sid knew how to work his hips while going fast. I moaned, as soon as my mouth opened, Mick shoved his dick down my throat. I used my hand to stroke the rest of it because it didn't fully fit in my mouth. I moaned on his dick, he grunted. Sid started talking.

"You're such a slut Y/n," He continued thrusting. "Getting fuck by four guys. How pathetic. I bet you like it huh slut"

I nodded slightly. I continued stroking and sucking Mick's cock, he came in my throat, pulling it out. After a few more minutes the guys switched spots again. This time Joey was behind me. He flipped me on my back, my head laying over the arm of the couch. Sid was now jamming his dick down my throat. By this point, my throat was getting sore, and it was so hard to control my legs from shaking.

Now I'm not gonna lie, mick and jim and sid were all great at thrusting but Joey. Joey was going fast and hard all at once. I moaned out almost like I was in a porno and my legs started switching, I started sucking as hard as I could. Jim quickly came, me following next .

I moaned loudly, as I started seeing stars. I felt hot liquid bursting out of my hole, spraying Joey all over his chest and cock. He pulled out and came on my stomach immediately collapsing on the other side of the couch. I immediately turned red, realizing what had just happened.

"You guys aren't gonna tell anyone right?" I asked.

"No of course not," Joey laughed getting up.

All of the guys started getting dressed, including me. After I got dressed I stuttered out my goodbyes and drove home. As soon as I entered my room, I stripped down and crashed on my bed, reliving the entire evening before quickly slipping into a deep sleep.

THE END! Enjoy loves

[vortexdoll]

Take a break

Warnings: N/a

Joey Jordison x reader

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.

[iamslut]

Tainted Innocence Pt. 1

Slipknot x Reader

Mafia AU

Why choose troupe

Summary - Fay tired and just wanting the night to end gets a table that makes her more aware than ever.

Chapter 1 - The Encounter

"Fay, you have a new table." My manager, a middle-aged woman with tired eyes, called out from the back of the crowded diner. I nodded, my ponytail bobbing up and down as I juggled three plates of greasy food. The neon sign outside flickered, casting a sickly glow through the grimy windows. This was not the life I had envisioned when I left Sweetwater, but here I was, serving up southern comfort hospitality to the lonely souls of LA.

As I approached the new customers, I put on my best smile, trying to hide the tiredness from my eyes. "Hello, my name is Fay. I'll be your waitress tonight! Are we ready to order drinks or do we need a second?" I do my usual introduction putting more emphasis in my southern accent. The quietness of the table made me look up from my notepad to be met with 1,2,3…9 men who were anything but friendly looking.

The largest one, with a scar across his cheek, looked at me with an eerie smile, "We'll just have water for now, darlin'." His eyes scanning me up and down, taking in every detail of me, from my pink lace tank top to the white converse peeking out from under my loose jeans. The way they all stared made me feel like a piece of meat on display. But this wasn't new to me, my looks had always been a double-edged sword. I took a deep breath and turned on my heel to get their water, trying not to let their gazes pierce through my armor of make-believe.

As I walked away, I heard murmurs and felt their eyes on my back. It wasn't until I set down the glasses that the one with the scar spoke up, "You got a cute little accent," he drawled, his voice thick with curiosity and something darker I couldn't quite place. "Where you from, sugar?"

My heart hammered in my chest, but I kept the smile plastered on my face, turning to face them, "Sweetwater, Tennessee." I said lightly, trying to play off my nervousness. The others at the table snickered, but the scarred man's smile never wavered.

"That's a long way from home," he said, his gaze lingering. "What brings you to LA?"

I swallowed hard, my throat feeling like sandpaper. "My dreams," I murmured, hoping my voice didn't betray the fear that was slowly coiling in my stomach. "I'm here to follow my dreams." I lightly laugh to myself at how pitiful that sounded while standing in this dirty dinner at 12pm while serving the most intimidating group of people I've ever seen in my life.

The man with the scar leaned back in his chair, his eyes narrowing slightly. "Is that so?" His voice was a low rumble, like distant thunder that made me shiver. "What kind of dreams could a little thing like you have in a place like this?" He gestured to the grimy walls and the sticky floors of the diner. I shook my head and was done talking about me. "You sure do ask a lot of questions but if you are not ready to order then I need to get to my other tables."

He chuckled, a sound that sent a chill down my spine, and waved a meaty hand. "Alright, darlin'. Give us a minute." As I walked away, I felt their eyes on me like a heavy weight. They whispered among themselves, and I could feel the tension in the air thickening like a storm about to break. I tried to push aside the feeling of unease, focusing on the rhythmic sizzle of the kitchen and the clink of cutlery. But it felt like God heard my pleas and the door opened. Walking in was my two good friends I met at my day job called Coffee Culture as drunk as sailors on a weekend leave.

"Fay!" One of them, a tall brunette named Mia, slurred, stumbling over to me. "You're working here too?" She giggled, wrapping an arm around my shoulders. I gave her a tight smile, grateful for the distraction. "Yep!" I say guiding her to an empty booth. "Just trying to keep up with bills, ya'know!"

Her companion, a lanky guy named Leo, raised an eyebrow at me and slurred. "So, this is why you never come out with us?"

I forced a laugh, trying to keep my voice steady. "You caught me!" The scarred man's eyes narrowed, and I could feel his gaze on me, but I didn't dare to look back. Instead, I turned to Mia and Leo, who were already sliding into the booth. "What can I get you two?"

Mia leaned over the table, her eyes glossy. "Two big greasy burgers and the biggest coke you got," she ordered, her breath smelling faintly of whiskey. Leo just nodded, too out of it to speak. As I scribbled their order, I heard the scarred man's chair scraping against the floor. I turned to find him standing beside me, looming like a towering mountain. "You got friends in high places, don't you darling?"

I met his gaze, trying to keep my voice steady. "They're just friends from work." His smile grew wider, showing off a gold tooth that glinted under the harsh diner lights. "Work? They work here? In this…establishment?" The way he said 'establishment' made it sound like a cage for lost souls.

Mia, oblivious to the tension, giggled. "Yeah, Fay's a triple threat! Barista, waitress, and record store diva by day, and a…uh…whatever it is you do at night!" She giggled again, her words slurring into one another. I shot her a glare, willing her to be quiet, but she was lost in her own world.

Leo, on the other hand, was more sober than a judge on Sunday morning. "We're just here for food," he said, his eyes darting between me and the scarred man. "Is there a problem?" The man who was towering over me nodded and spoke with a dark cadence "Ya, she hasn't taken our order cause you two won't shut the fuck up."

Mia's laughter died in her throat as she took in the tension that had filled the air. "Oh, sorry," she mumbled, shrinking into her seat. "Well go take your seat sir and I'll be with you in a second." I say trying to defuse the situation. The scarred man's eyes never left me as he turned and walked back to his table. I felt the weight of his gaze even as I turned my back to him.

As I took Mia and Leo's order to the kitchen, my legs felt like they were made of jelly. The cook, a gruff man named Larry, looked at me with concern. "You okay, Fay?" He asked gruffly, noticing my shaking hands. I nodded, forcing a smile. "Just tired," I lied. "Those guys at table four giving you trouble?"

I nodded, keeping my voice low. "They're just…intimidating." Larry grunted. "Looks like Slipknot to me." He said, his eyes darkening. The name sent a chill down my spine. "Big-time mafia group, but I don't know exactly cause they all wear masks when they actually commit crimes." he added in a whisper. "Best be on best behavior, honey." I nodded, my heart racing.

When I returned to their table, the tension was palpable. "So, Fay, tell me more about these dreams of yours." His voice was smooth, but the malice behind it was unmistakable. I took a deep breath, trying to calm my racing heart. "I'm a singer," I said, trying to keep my voice steady. "I perform whenever I can. Just trying to make a name for myself. But enough about me what can I get ya'll?"

The scarred man leaned in, his breath hot on my ear. "I think we've found ourselves a little songbird," he murmured. His hand reached out and brushed a strand of hair away from my face, sending a jolt of fear through me. "Why don't you sing us a little something?" His eyes searched mine, looking for any sign of resistance. I shook my head "I'm at work and need to do my job."

He chuckled, his hand dropping away, but not before giving my shoulder a gentle squeeze. "We're just having a bit of fun, darlin'. Don't worry about the job. Sing for us." His voice was like a velvet vice, and for a moment, I considered it. I shook my head once again. "I'm sorry sir but I won't be singing." my voice much softer but still trying to be professional.

The scarred man's eyes searched mine, and for a brief second, I saw something in them that was not malice but curiosity. "Why not?" He leaned back in his chair, folding his arms over his broad chest. The other men at the table were watching me now, their expressions a mix of amusement and challenge. "Because I don't want to."

I tried to keep my voice firm, but it trembled slightly. The scarred man's smile grew wider, his gold tooth glinting in the dim light. "Well, now you have to," he said, his voice still smooth, but the threat underlying it was clear. "We don't take 'no' for an answer, darlin'." My voice betrays me letting out a laugh of disbelief and before I could think about what I was going to say my lips moved instinctually for me. "Well, you guys will be taking a no tonight or I won't be serving y'all."

The room seemed to hold its breath as the scarred man's hand shot out, grabbing my wrist in a vice-like grip. He yanked me closer to him, so close I could feel the heat from his body, smell the faint scent of cigarette smoke on his clothes. "You'll sing," he said, his voice a low growl. "Or else." His grip tightened, and I felt a spark of pain as his nails dug into my skin. But instead of fear, something else bubbled up inside me - anger. "Fuck off and get out." I said pulling my hand back.

Surprise flickered across his face, quickly replaced by amusement. He let go of my wrist and leaned back in his chair. "Alright, sugar. I was just playing. I'll take a beer and an order of fries. What about you guys?" The tension at the table didn't dissipate as the other men at the table ordered their food. I scribbled down their orders, my hand shaking slightly. As I walked away, I could feel their eyes on me, watching my every move.

When I brought back their food, the scarred man took a fry and popped it into his mouth, chewing slowly. He looked up at me, his eyes dark. "You know, I like a girl with a bit of fire," he said, his voice low. "But don't think for a second you can talk to me like that and get away with it." I ignored his comment and asked, "Would you guys like anything else?"

The others at the table exchanged glances, the air thick with a challenge that was unspoken. The tension was suffocating, but I kept my smile in place, my eyes never leaving theirs. "No, darlin'. That'll do for now," he said, his gaze holding mine. I nodded, "Well if you guys need anything just holler."

As I turned to leave, the scarred man called after me. "What's your last name, sweetheart?" and all I said while walking away, "Nope!"

I walked to the back and felt like I could finally brush off the weight of their gaze. The kitchen was hot and hectic, but it was a welcome distraction from the looming presence of the nine men who watched me like pray. I took a deep breath, trying to calm my racing heart. The grease in the air clung to my skin, a stark contrast to the sweet vanilla scent of my lotion.

As I delivered their bill, the scarred man's hand shot out, catching my wrist again. "You forgot something, darlin'." His grip was firm but not painful, his eyes holding a mischievous twinkle. "What's your last name?" He repeated, his tone not so much a question as a demand. I tugged my hand free and placed the tray on the table, taking a moment to compose myself before speaking.

"Rosenberg," I murmured, my voice barely above a whisper. "Lillyanna Fay Rosenberg." The room seemed to spin for a second, the weight of my own words like a noose around my neck. Why did I tell him? Why did I let them know who I really was? The scarred man leaned back in his chair, a smile playing on his lips.

"Lillyanna Fay," he repeated, rolling the name around his mouth like a fine whiskey. "It's a beautiful name for a beautiful girl." His eyes searched my face, and I felt a strange warmth in my cheeks. I hated that he could affect me like this, but there was something about him that drew me in, like a moth to a flame. "Are you happy now?" I snapped, trying to regain control of the situation.

He shrugged, his scar twitching with the movement. "Just wanted to know the name of the girl who's got all of us so intrigued." His eyes slid over to Mia and Leo, who were doing their best to pretend they weren't watching us. "Your friends are worried about you," he said, his voice dropping to a murmur. "Why don't you go over there and check on them."

I nodded, grateful for the escape. As I approached the booth, Mia's eyes were wide with concern, and Leo looked ready to jump up and fight if needed. "You okay, Fay?" she whispered, her hand reaching out to grab mine. I nodded, my smile forced but hopefully convincing. "I'm fine. Just a misunderstanding."

But as I turned to leave, the scarred man called out, "Hey, songbird. You got any plans after your shift?" The question was casual, but the way he said it sent a shiver down my spine. I faced him, trying to keep the tremble from my voice. "Yes."

"Oh?" He raised an eyebrow, a smug smile playing on his lips. "Do tell." His eyes bore into me, daring me to lie. "It's none of your business."

The scarred man leaned back in his chair, his grip on his beer bottle tightening. "Everything is my business in my city," he said, his voice a low rumble. "But I'll let it slide tonight." His gaze trailed over me, lingering on my chest before returning to my eyes. "For now." with that he got up pulling his wallet out and dropping a few hundred-dollar bills on the tables and said with a deep voice, "Keep the change baby girl."

I couldn't help but feel a sense of relief as they filed out of the diner, their heavy footsteps echoing through the room. But as the door swung shut, I couldn't shake off the feeling that this wasn't the last I'd see of them. My heart hammered in my chest as I picked up the money they'd left, wondering if this was some kind of twisted payment for my 'entertainment'.

[murdrdoll]

pinned / masterlist

Hi ! I’m doll ! Here are some things to know about me & this page:

fanfic writer territory! I primarily write x reader / y/n fics, and they’ll be linked below in this post. If that’s not ur cup of tea then click away pls !

This page is 18+ - NSFW will be written, so MDNI pls !

I also love to post silly pics and memes I find online hehe

may also post some doodles and art oop

my primary fandoms as of now are Slipknot & Murderdolls/Wednsday 13 !

A lil’ bit abt me: 20 yr old goth artist who loves fitness, fashion & peanut m&ms !

one last note: heavy respect to all artists and people I portray in my posts; their work is not my property, and all purposes of this page are for entertainment. This is not meant to be a real reflection of them, or for them.

masterlist:

⚰︎ angst | ✶ smut | ‹𝟹 fluff

Slipknot

Joey Jordison

Joey likes to buy you makeup! (Joey x reader) ‹𝟹

[ghost-in-the-hall]

Slipknot x Nervous Flyer! Reader (FLUFF)

Hello! A couple days ago I got a request from a lovely Anon who's going to be flying for the first time! This is for you my friend, I hope your flight goes well! (I'm sure it will!) Just some quick little drabbles, I hope you enjoy! Should I start a Slipknot tag list? Let me know in the comments!

WARNINGS: None

My Masterlist! ~ Tip Jar! ~ AO3 Link!

Divider credit: @adornedwithlight

(No particular order to this list, just whoever's name I thought of first)

Corey:

Corey would notice you were anxious about your flight before you even got near the plane. He understood why; it was your first time traveling, the whole process was already a bit overwhelming if you weren't used to it, not to mention the airport was extremely busy on top of it, anyone would be stressed. He watches as you nervously bounced your leg, arms crossed tightly over your chest as you waited in line at TSA. “You know, I think I might rewrite the hook for that song we were working on.” He figured there was no better way to distract you than with something you both loved, music. Even just having the familiar topics of conversation seemed to put you more at ease, Corey every so often placing a hand to the small of your back or carefully taking you by the wrist to guide you where you needed to go. By the time you had gotten through TSA the two of you had already worked out the majority of a chorus for something you were working on.

You sighed as you collapsed into one of the hard chairs in the waiting area at the gate, taking a bite of the overpriced breakfast sandwich you had snagged along the way. “You seem a lot less nervous now.” Corey remarks with a playful smile. “It wasn't that bad, was it?”

“No,” you respond with a smile of your own, “not with you here, at least.”

“Well, lucky for you I'll be here the whole time.” He winks, making your cheeks grow warm. Corey silently promised himself he would be by your side through every trip after that.

Sid:

“What's wrong, sugar?” Sid slings an arm over your shoulders, noticing your tense state. You were currently waiting in line to board your plane.

“It's nothing, Sid, promise.” You tried to reassure him with a smile, but he wasn't buying it.

“Sure, that's why your shoulders are in your ears, right?” He asks with a smug smirk.

“Shut up.” You groan, embarrassed by the fact he had noticed you were nervous.

“Are you scared of flying?” He asks quietly, making sure the others didn't overhear.

“I'm just a little nervous, I've never been on a plane before.” You admit bashfully.

“Well, I've flown hundreds of times, and it’s always been a breeze.” He gently nudges your shoulder with his own, offering you a supportive smile. “We’ll get through it together, okay?” He scoops up your hand in his, giving it a firm squeeze.

“Okay.” You respond with a smile of your own, feeling a little bit better about your trip.

Chris:

You jump as a hand suddenly comes to rest on your forehead. “Easy, baby,” Chris starts with a chuckle, “it's just me.” He tries again with much better success, pressing the back of his hand to your forehead. “You're looking a little pale, are you alright?”

You tug nervously at your seatbelt, “I've just never flown before, I'm a little nervous.” Chris’s hand immediately slips into yours, giving it a supportive squeeze.

“You hold onto me as tight as you need to, okay? We’ll be there before you know it.” His bright smile puts you at ease. He fidgets with your fingers, answering any questions you had about the trip.

“Thank you for doing this, I know it's stupid.” You whisper.

“It's not stupid.” He reassures you. “You're trying something new and you're nervous.” He tugs you closer to him, letting your head fall to rest on his shoulder. “I happen to think you're being really brave.” He compliments you softly, making your cheeks grow warm. “You just try and relax, I'll keep you safe.”

Jim:

Jim noticed the moment your nerves started to set in about this trip, immediately taking charge in order to make the whole day easier for you. Whether it was a gentle hand to the small of your back in order to help maneuver you through crowds or offering small distractions to keep your mind off how anxious you were feeling. But, let’s be real, he needed that neck pillow that looked like a shrimp, the fact you wouldn't buy it for him was criminal.

Sitting on the plane, he would point out the window. He described how flaps on the wings would move to catch wind, the sound of them unbolting the walkway from the plane, what take off would feel like, anything to help put you at ease. “Feel free to hold my hand if you want to.” He offers with a wink and a playful smile. You can't help but giggle as you intertwine your fingers with his. You squeeze his hand tightly as the plane starts to move, “it's alright, I'm right here.” He wraps an arm around your shoulders, holding both of your hands in his free one, keeping you tucked close to him as the plane takes off. He leans back so you can look out the window once you're up in the air. “It wasn't that bad, was it?”

“No, not with you here at least.”

Mick:

Mick thought you were mad at him. You were unusually quiet on the drive over to the airport, you kept your distance from everybody as you made your way through security, and now you were sitting by yourself staring out at the tarmac. Mick cautiously approaches you, unsure of what had happened to make you so upset, but desperately wanting to fix it. He sighs as he collapses into the chair at your side. “What did I do?” He asks simply.

“Nothing, honey.” And that was all it took for Mick to realize you weren't mad, you were nervous. You had a tremble in your voice that made it sound like you were about to cry.

Mick wraps an arm around your shoulders, pulling you into him. “Is it the trip in general or just going on the plane?”

It takes you a moment to respond. “Just going on the plane.” His thumb strokes soothingly over your shoulder.

“Well, I'm going to be right next to you the whole time, and you know I'd never let anything bad happen to you.” He gives you a patient smile. “There’s nothing wrong with being nervous, love. But, let me help instead of making me think you're gunna rip my head off, okay?” He chuckles.

“Okay.” You let out a laugh of your own, happy he was here to help you through this.

Joey:

You let out a breath you didn't realize you were holding when Joey’s thumbs pressed soothingly into the tense muscles of your shoulders. “Nervous, love?”

“A little.” You admit quietly, not wanting the others to hear. “I've never flown before.” He spends a few moments giving your muscles the attention they desperately need.

“I promise, you've got nothing to worry about. After you fly a few times you're probably going to think it's funny you were so nervous to begin with.” He chuckles. “Is there anything I can do to help?”

“Just being with you is helping.” He smiles bashfully at the compliment.

“Good, looks like I'm doing my job then.” He wraps an arm around your shoulders, pulling you into his side.

Paul:

You stared straight ahead at the seat in front of you, hoping the others wouldn't notice your rigid posture. You wince slightly as Paul quietly says your name from the window seat next to you. “Are you okay?” You nod, knowing if you looked at him he would be able to read you immediately. Of course, as it would turn out, Paul already knew the answer to his question, he just wanted to see how you would respond.

“You know, I'm also scared of flying.” He offers in an attempt to put you at ease.

“Really?” You respond after a moment. He nods, giving you a hum of affirmation in response.

“I used to make myself sick before getting on planes. I would get so stressed out.” He chuckles. “But, I promise, it's not going to be as bad as you think. The worst part is probably taking off and landing, the rest of it will be a breeze.” His gentle smile was enough to help you relax a little.

“I trust you.” You respond quietly. He holds out his hand, silently offering to let you take it for comfort. Your hand slips into his, your free arm looping through the crook of his elbow as you settle into his side, feeling a lot more prepared for the trip ahead.

[dislocatedshoulders]

I HAD A DREAM SLIPKNOT KIDNAPPED ME 😭😭😭

okok so basically I was walking into my living room and Joey just came outta nowhere and jumped on me and started carving stuff into my thighs (with a pencil???) to paralyze me or something, and then I passed out from the pain as the other members started coming from the shadows...

I REMEMBER RUNNING THROUGH THE WOODS. I could hear them calling my name behind me and their footsteps slowly fade away as they were losing track of where I was running. IT WAS A ROCKY FOREST TOO, like I was climbing and rolling and hiding around everything when I saw them in my presence, hoping for dear GOD I would get out of whatever forest this was. I ran a bit more...

And then it was dead silent.

Any noises I heard were just animals or my feet crunching into the sticks underneath me. So I walked for a bit to catch my breath, hiding inside this one really big and bushy (is that the right word?) tree, right by the bottom of its trunk. I can barely recall curling into a ball, fear encasing my eyes as I could barely hear the sounds of the leaves crunching at a constant pace.

There stood the Clown in red as I saw from the branches being my only cover. He stood silently and looked around carefully, especially in the tree. He fixed his gaze on my face, perhaps a grin forming on his face as he called to the others, "I found her!" He knew my legs and body were too exhausted and weak to get up and run away. Even then, they'd probably catch me.

It was like within a single blink, all the members were formed around him as he walked closer. I don't remember what happened after that.

But hey, Jim and Clown showed me their goats!!! (They really needed to tidy up the place) 😚

And uhh... There were people in bird cages the boys trapped there for some reason, bleeding their skin off grabbing the metal bars and opening their mouths to silent scream... I don't even know how they were still alive, like their vocal chords were ripped out and such... ☺️

Anyways that was it, cheers! 😘💜

[jimsbeetroot]

hello!! can u make a jim root fanfic where y/n is a member of slipknot (bassist) and there’s like a cute moment on stage with the two that goes viral on social media? this has been stuck in my head but i don’t know how to write.

thank u so much!!

viral kisses ♱ jim root

hope this is what you had in mind?!

Title: Viral Kisses Pairing: Jim Root x Fem!Slipknot!Reader (Bassist) Genre: Fluff Length: ~1,200 words

-

The crowd roared as the final notes of “Duality” rang out across the stadium, sweat dripping down your neck under the weight of your jumpsuit. Your fingers tingled from the heavy set, bass still buzzing through your chest. But it was the kind of ache that meant you’d given it your all—your favourite kind.

The energy backstage was electric tonight, but on stage, it was another level. Every member of the band had been on fire, and somewhere between “Psychosocial” and “Spit It Out,” the adrenaline had hit a peak. You glanced over at Jim, your boyfriend and the band’s lanky guitarist, his mask reflecting the overhead lights like a sinister mirror.

He met your gaze for just a second, long enough to crack a smile behind his mask. You couldn’t see it, but after all these years, you didn’t need to.

As the intro to the next song kicked in, you found yourself gravitating toward his side of the stage—something that happened naturally more often than not. Sid had once joked that the two of you were like magnets on stage, always pulled together no matter the song.

The two of you played shoulder to shoulder, back-to-back, matching each other’s rhythm like you were tethered by something invisible. You didn’t have to speak to be in sync—it was muscle memory by now.

Then, right before the chorus, Jim leaned in dramatically, putting his forehead to yours for a brief moment of tension, sending the crowd into a frenzy. You could hear the screams from the barricade, the way your fans loved the chemistry, the chaos, the rawness of it all.

But then he did something different.

Right after the final riff of the song, when the lights cut to black for a second, he pulled down his mask just enough to press a quick kiss to the side of your helmet—right at your temple—and gave your bass a cheeky tap with his pick before walking back to his side of the stage like nothing happened.

You stood there, stunned for half a beat. It wasn’t unusual for the band to mess with each other during sets—Corey had once thrown a drumstick at Craig mid-song just for the hell of it—but that? That was something else.

You recovered quickly, chuckling as you adjusted your strap and turned to face the crowd again. But the way your cheeks were heating under your mask? Yeah. Good luck hiding that.

The rest of the show flew by in a blur of sweat, screams, and distorted guitars. But backstage, it took about ten minutes before you were pulled aside by one of the tech crew.

“Uh, Y/N? You’ve kinda… blown up online.”

You blinked. “I what?”

The tech handed you their phone, already open to Twitter.

There, front and center, was a grainy fan-shot video under a tweet that read:

“WAIT DID JIM ROOT JUST KISS THE BASSIST MID-SET?? #Slipknot #CoupleGoals”

The video had already been viewed over 200,000 times. Someone had zoomed in, slowed it down, and added heart emojis. Another edit played the kiss in reverse with sparkles and dramatic music. Someone else had turned it into a TikTok trend already.

You groaned. “Oh, God.”

“Are you embarrassed?” Jim’s voice came from behind you, deep and amused.

You turned to see him, mask now fully off, curls damp and sticking to his neck, a smirk tugging at his lips. “You kissed my helmet on stage.”

He raised a brow. “You didn’t seem to mind.”

“I didn’t. That’s the problem,” you said with a laugh. “We’re gonna be the talk of the fandom now.”

“We are the talk of the fandom,” he replied, stepping closer and lowering his voice just for you. “And besides… if you think I won’t kiss you on stage again, you’re wrong.”

You narrowed your eyes playfully. “You planning to make it a tradition now?”

“Maybe,” he said, brushing a curl off your cheek. “Or maybe I just wanted the world to know you’re mine.”

You smirked. “Well, mission accomplished.”

Jim leaned in, pressing a real kiss to your lips this time—no masks, no crowd, no lights—just him and you in the quiet chaos backstage.

From somewhere nearby, Sid’s voice rang out.

“Y’all are cute but I swear to God, if you start making out during ‘People = Shit’ next show, I’m leaving the stage.”

You both laughed as Jim flipped him off over his shoulder, then turned back to you with a grin.

“You ready for round two tomorrow?” he asked.

You nodded. “Always. But maybe next time, kiss me somewhere less helmet-y.”

Jim laughed and threw his arm around your shoulder, pulling you close as the two of you walked back toward the dressing room, phones buzzing, fans screaming online, and your heart still racing.

Later That Night

Corey reposted the viral video with the caption:

“Slipknot: where we rage, scream, and apparently have on-stage couple moments now. 😂🔥”

The band group chat was chaos for hours, but you didn’t care.

You were already curled into Jim’s side on the tour bus, his fingers tracing lazy circles on your thigh, both of you scrolling through memes of yourselves and laughing way too hard.

And honestly? You kinda loved it.

[hotgeniusreid]

No thoughts other than being sandwiched in between Jim and Mick while they make out to make you desperate, and got you feeling their hard cocks from behind and in front of you 🤤

I am very horny for men with long hair and beards 😩

[ims0vain]

Hii I'd have a request for ur Black Bandana series! Maybe something like Jim & the reader being on tour in the earlier days of Slipknot and struggling to find peace and quiet for some alone-time? Potentially with some Fluff and Smut?

If not, thats completely fine & sorry if you already have lots of requests I don't wanna b a pushover!

Love your blog & ao3, take care💞

Hello! Thank you so much for the request! I do have a lot of WIPs 🥴 but I DO try and put people’s requests near the top and do those first. I love your idea and I will definitely write it for you! I’ll give it some brainstorming and hopefully have it out sooner rather than later.

If you have an AO3 and would like it gifted to you, just let me know and I’ll totally do that! Otherwise, I’ll drop your Tumblr name in the notes before the fic!

Thank you for your support! Take care! 😊❤️