Impractical Jokers: [Joker]xReader Collection

Q x Reader - Calming Down

Large hands settle on your face and for a moment you're ripped out of your terror to see a familiar face that isn't blurry. Brian. Brian Quinn. He's saying something - a monosyllabic that has you furrowing your brow as you breathe hard and try to understand him, try to hear him.

But it's all too much.

Panic attacks are horrendous things, and being caught in the middle of a crowd when it happens is even worse. People veer away from you, as if you're mad with disease, and you can see the other three Jokers attempting to console you. But every touch they apply is like static, every word they say falls on deaf ears. Every hug offered is like Death himself coiling around you and squeezing the life out of your lungs.

"Guys, GUYS. Back off!" Brian shouts above all the commotion and his three friends stop flailing and bouncing on their feet and Murr slips his phone away because ambulances aren't necessary for panic attacks. Q inhales deeply, makes a gesture with his hand that states 'wait here' before he guides you to a secluded spot - a small alleyway opposite the bakery you'd been heading to with the guys - and leans you against the wall. His hands are once again touching your face and you respond violently, shoving at his arms while your breaths shudder and threaten to choke you as your vision blurs.

"Get off, get off-- get off!" You're screaming and struggling, as if he's going to attack you, and Q is grasping at your wrists and shushing you. He's surprised by your actions - and even more surprised that nobody has checked what is going on out of concern. He would understand. A man seemingly forcing a woman against the wall of an alleyway does seem sketchy; alas, nobody comes and it comforts him to know that he is not a monster that requires stopping.

"[Y/N], [Y/N]... it's okay. Breathe with me - seven in and seven out."

Minutes pass and your actions begin to falter, weakness overtaking your system. You're tired and you're scared and you're leaning into the man in front of you and lightly beating your forehead against his chest with agitated grunts because why the fuck are you so stupid? Crying and causing a scene, shaking like a leaf at nothing... it disgusts you.

You sob. You sob because it's the only way you can release the pent-up anger boiling inside of you. Why are you this way? Why are you so nervous, so scared? Why the fuck do you live in fear? And most importantly, why do you make other people around you suffer? You cry and clutch at his jacket, beginning to shake all over again because of the fear that he finds you stupid, and weak, and more trouble than you're worth. Anxiety is an evil little thing, always clipping away at your ego and shrouding your thoughts in dark; just once, you'd like to be able to go into a crowd and not feel like everybody is judging you.

"Shh, [Y/N], it's okay..." Brian murmurs, resting his cheek on the top of your head and soothingly rubbing at your back. Your body shutters like a door with one hinge when the wind blows and it's as if he's the only thing keeping you upright as you begin inhaling more deeply.

Seven in, seven out... seven in, seven out.... seven, seven, seven...

It's minutes before you can muster any kind of words and, as Brian feels you slump against his form with weakness, he expects the ones that do come.

"...I'm so sorry."

Q shakes his head, wills himself to keep level for your sake. "Don't be ridiculous."

As you begin to calm from the attack, weariness washing over you as you lean hard against Q's solid frame, a slight smile tugs at the corner of your lips as he pulls back and presses his lips to your forehead. He's gentle, the scratch of his bear making you feel safer as he pulls you back into his arms and holding you more firmly than before. Soft phrases meet your ears as your breathing finally levels out.

"You're gonna be okay, [Y/N]. I'm here to keep you safe."