Impractical Jokers: [Joker]xReader Collection

Joe x Reader - Cheer Up

There's nothing you can do to alleviate the sadness in your gut. You've tried everything: snuggling and watching movies, drinking hot beverages to soothe the ache inside, you'd even taken a trip to the park earlier to seek out dogs to pet... you can't seem to shake this funk you've woken up in and it's only gotten worse since you've gone about your day.

The click of the door opening gains your attention, your head picking up as Joe enters your line of vision. Great. As good as he is to you, so caring and attentive, you don't want to be fussed over right now; especially when you don't know where the mood had come from, couldn't locate the source of it for the life of you. And he's going to ask you why, you can already see it as he locks eyes with you and his brow dips slightly and–

"[Y/N]?"

"Don't." You interrupt him before he even begins, the Joker frowning as he slips his coat off slowly. The image has blinding images taking over your mind; the feel of his strong arms, the scent of him as you bury your face in his neck, bunching the material of his shirt in your hands as you bury your face into his chest and cry. All things you've done and enjoyed, even if not at the time. Things you long to do again but are too proud and stubborn to do so. "I don't want to talk about it."

Joe stares. He stares, and you swear he's going to burn holes through you as he does, gorgeous gaze flickering with both uncertainty and worry. The air is cumbersome about you as you remain gazing at each other in silence... before Joe relents and shrugs, hanging his coat on the chair before he sits beside you and exhales loudly.

"Okay," the man grants, moving to wrap an arm around your middle. Hopping on the defensive, you shrink away.

"This is one of your ploys to get me to talk, isn't it?"

"[Y/N]. You don't wanna tell me what's goin' on? That's fine. I just want tocuddle," Joe replies, burying his face in your hair as you relent, sinking into his side with a sullen sigh. For a short while, all you do is lay there with your head against his chest, his hand stroking softly down your side as he holds you close and closes his eyes; as if he's about to fall asleep any minute.

The feeling of his arms around you has your heart fluttering. Not thumping, not speeding up, just fluttering, and that's the way it should be; you're of the firm belief that when you're in love with somebody and your relationship is serious, they are the one that makes everything calm down. You don't feel better, per se, but you feel subdued, which is almost as good.

"...you gonna sleep?" you ask softly, craning your head when his fingers card through your hair.

"Nope," he replies, though his voice is slightly thicker with the absence of intention to move. The shift of his body as you lean in and press soft kisses to his jaw alerts you that he's still receptive, even if not awake completely. "Mm... what'd'ya want?"

"Nothing," you muse quietly, kisses trailing innocently down to his lower neck, fingers slipping up his chest and fiddling with his collar so that you can reach his collar bone. Nibbling on it affectionately, his hand slides down your back and stroke gently, innocently, so tenderly it could bring you to tears if you thought about it. "Thanks."

"I didn't do anythin'." But Gatto opens his eyes, regards you with a slightly sly twitch of his lips. Perhaps he already understands: he was there for you, and that's all you'd ever needed. He just knows that sometimes the best way to cheer you up, to make you feel better, is to say nothing at all.