A Form Of Torture I Do Believe

A form of torture I do believe

What color is math?

What's math

When idiots are in love

Pairing: Joey Jordison x Fem!Reader

Summary: Joey Jordison is many things at once. He's a playful, he's a pain in the ass, and most importantly, Joey Jordison is a brat. But here's the rub, he's your brat, and there's no escape from that fact.

Genre: Love, fluff, comfort, friends to lovers, idiots in love.

Warnings: Age-Regression/De-aging, joey (21), reader (20).

Word count: 1,586

A/N: This story was written based on this request. Anonymous who requested this story, thank you, I hope you will like it! I miss Joey…

Tag list: @jakekisska @retro-fr6 @boulder-2 @gougie, @novaleedartis, @neteyamgfs, @addi1978, @alex-cold17, @nothingtoseehereanymoreblog, @isntitdarling13

It's no secret that Joey is loud at times. It is noisy and sometimes there is too much of it, even when it would seem that it is not necessary at all. There's nowhere to hide from him, because when Joey wants attention, he gets it, no matter if it's continuous drumming until you start banging on his door with your fists, cursing him at the top of his lungs, or his futile butts. annoying attempts to make you take your mind off work by pulling your hair, or running up to you and slamming the laptop lid, waiting for you to run after him.

Joey annoys you, or at least you successfully pretend that he annoys you. And yet, despite this, Joey is nice. He is sweet and kind, and is always that ray of sunshine that can light up the road even on the darkest and gloomiest night. Joey, a fun guy who always makes you feel good. Even if sometimes, he is an incredibly loud pain in the ass.

It's not like you weren't used to his quirks. No, it would be more than strange, given the simple fact that you have been friends almost since the cradle. You knew before that this sneaky little boy would be your headache, but how could it be otherwise? In the end, just looking at his huge blue eyes would make you lose your breath and make your knees weak. And even despite the fact that he, being shorter than you, he should have at least looked up to you, and yet, he managed to do everything to make you feel completely small next to him. And God, this guy... You didn't know what else to say. He's an asshole, no doubt about it. He is noisy and sometimes very childishly strange, oh dear Lord, of course. Joey can be a pain in the ass, and that's a fact, but what matters most is that he is YOUR pain in the ass, and there is no way that anything could be different.

Not that this day was different from all the previous ones. You continued to work on your college English project, tiredly rubbing your eyes, which were now the same bright red color as the streaks in Joey's hair, drooping from the burning lack of sleep. Taking a sip of bitter and completely tasteless coffee from a glass, you continued to write the project, again and again re-reading the lines written on the laptop monitor, which now seemed completely identical and meaningless, and only for a moment leaning your head back on the back of the sofa, you closed your eyes, massaging your closed eyelids with palms, when suddenly you realized that the house was quiet. The house where Joey Jordison is is too quiet. Why did it happen? You didn’t know, but you understood too clearly that this was all not good.

No-no-no! You know him too well to think that he could just lie down and fall asleep, like any normal person would do at such a late hour. Joey will bully you until you satisfy his boredom, and there's no chance you'll fall for his stupid tricks again. In any case, you sincerely wanted to believe it.

Having saved your project, you put your laptop aside, went into the kitchen, and turned on the water to wash your face. The cool water sobered you up, and even though it didn’t last long, it filled you with the energy that you were missing right now. Turning off the water, you awkwardly scratched the back of your head, thinking that it would be nice to take a break from all this studying and get some sleep. Rubbing your eyes sleepily, you returned to the living room, and sitting down on the sofa, you were about to make the last edits to the project for the day, when you saw the words in bold italics:

"Who didn't hide..."

Oh no, you thought wearily. More of his little games that will give you a headache. Quickly erasing the words that you will absolutely forget about in the morning, you closed the laptop lid, and frowning, said:

"I have no time for your stupid entertainment now, Jordison!" in response there was silence, which seemed to begin to hum while you looked around, trying to find this cunning head. "Come out now, otherwise when I find you, you can rest assured that I will wash you in the washing machine!"

There is no answer again, but suspicious sounds are heard upstairs, and you, knowing exactly what this threatens you with, still go upstairs, rolling your eyes and muttering curses under your breath with displeasure.

Something is rustling in the bedroom, and you have no doubt that Joey is there, preparing another dirty trick, which may be innocent, but will definitely bring you to white heat, especially when you are terribly tired and want to sleep. And yet, it’s too late to retreat, and you go to the door leading to the bedroom, and open it slightly, watching how carefully Joey hides in your closet, hiding behind T-shirts and dresses, just to remain unnoticed. Haha, well, two can play this game, right? Opening the door, you walk into the bedroom with a completely unsuspecting look, loudly indignant, and pretending to be desperately looking for Joey while he quietly laughs sitting in the closet. To his credit, you probably wouldn't have noticed him there.

Cursing especially loudly, you smile slyly and throw the large teddy bear that Joey gave you for your last birthday on the bed, which makes a very quiet creak, but this is enough to convince him that you are in bed and going to sleep. Covering the toy with a blanket, you quietly sink to the floor, hiding behind the bed, while Joey, sincerely convinced that you have absolutely no idea where he is, gets out of the closet and goes to the bed, not forgetting to put his favorite kabuki mask on his face.

Tossing his hair forward, Joey, a white sheet draped over his shoulders, walks towards the bed with his arms out in front, and you have to bite your index finger to keep from laughing at how ridiculous it looked. And yet, if his plan succeeded and he woke you up in the middle of the night, such a sight would indeed be nothing less than frightening. Joey crawls onto the bed and approaches the teddy bear lying on it instead of you, and is about to let out a loud scream when you jump out from behind the bed and shout a banal, but so effective - “boo!” - from which Joey screams, but this time from panic, and falling onto his back, tangled in the sheet.

Unable to bear it, you laugh loudly and loudly, bent over and holding your stomach with your hands, which is already starting to hurt, while Joey is still struggling with the sheet, in a vain attempt to get out of the trap into which he has driven himself.

With difficulty, you stop laughing, and after wiping your eyes from the tears that have appeared on them, you pull the sheet off Joey’s head, and crossing your arms over your chest, you say:

"Mischief didn't manage, ha?"

Joey just snorts at this, awkwardly getting out of the sheets onto the bed, while you, satisfied with how you finally caught him off guard, sit down next to Joey, while he takes off his mask and puts it on the nightstand, pouting displeasedly.

His hair is messy and looks rather comical, even without considering the situation, and you gently smooth the mess on his head with your hand as Joey blushes to the tips of his ears. The room is fortunately dark, and you can’t see well, but even so you notice how his pale skin is covered with crimson paint.

"What a mess you made,” you scoff, to which Joey rolls his eyes but doesn’t mind because it’s the truth.

"Yeah, yeah,” he smiles, while you diligently try to fix how much his hair is disheveled, although you understand perfectly well that without a comb, nothing will work out. "But it's all you. This time, you made the mess."

“It’s true,” you smile, taking a comb from the nightstand drawer, carefully running it through Joey’s tangled locks.

He doesn’t resist, and for the first time in such a long time, he sits quietly until you finish putting this chaos in order. Joey grins as you carefully braid his hair. Joey smiles, and even though you can't see it, too busy trying to braid him, or two or three, maybe twenty, you feel him relax in your arms, and how he starts to feel sleepy until in the end, he doesn’t fall back, his head falling on your shoulder.

You haven’t finished braiding his hair, but you know that you can always continue tomorrow, but for now, you gently move away, allowing Joey to lie down on the bed, and you lie down next to him, feeling how his head is pressed against your chest, and how tightly he wraps his arms around your waist. And you let him do it because Joey Jordison is an asshole and a troublemaker, no matter what, he is your asshole, and if only for that reason, you are ready to put up with all his quirks over and over again while he is mischievous but with such strong love smiles at you.

NOPE! I'm biblical propaganda

WAIT PEOPLE ON TUMBLR ARE REAL FUCKING PEOPLE

Dinosaur in a party hat :)