Impractical Jokers: [Joker]xReader Collection

Joe x Reader - Thunderstorms

Thunder booms outside and Joe seems more on-edge than usual. Chancing glances at him, noticing the wringing of his hands in his lap as he shuffles slightly closer to you in bed. There is little you offer him - he'd rolled away from you when you'd tried to cuddle earlier, complaining about being 'too warm' - but you're worried all the same.

The lightning outside flashes light into the room and it's at that moment that you see him with his head barely above the covers; tufts of hair, disheveled as if he's been messing with it for a long time before you'd bothered to look, are the only things that greet you and you decide it's time to break the quiet, reaching a hand forwards and placing it on his warm back.

Joe stiffens... and then relaxes again, body twitching when the thunder cracks loudly; the anger of the earth, the resentment of Mother Nature unleashed onto the unsuspecting people down below and Joe feels it full-throttle as he lays there and hides from it.

"...Joey? Are you okay?"

He could've lied. He could have said anything at all: 'I don't feel well', 'I'm cold', 'I can't sleep', 'I need to piss but I refuse to get up', 'I'm thinkin' about punishments for Murray, 'I was almost asleep you bitch'... but all he does is roll over and stare you directly in the eyes, a vulnerable wideness to them that you've never seen before.

"...can you hold me, [Y/N]? I don't like thunderstorms..."

"Joe..." Unaware of what else to say, how to react to such a child-like confession, you simply beckon him close with open arms and heave a sigh of relief as the weight of the bed shifts in your favour; his comforting presence buries itself into yours, body heat ablaze as it mingles with your own. "Are you scared?"

"Tch, don't be dumb, [Y/N]. I just don't like 'em."

But you know enough about him to know when he's uneasy. Maybe he isn't heaving with panic but he's definitely more tense than usual. A protectiveness you're not that familiar with fuels you to wrap arms tightly around him, guide his head to bury in the crook of your neck as one of your hands moves to toy with his hair. Soft stroking, gentle kisses to the crown of his head whenever the aggressive light is shed into the room against your wishes. For his sake, you just want it to go away.

Several minutes drag out in comfortable quiet and you realise that Joe is no longer tense. Pulling your head back to look at him, to offer him a warm smile, the only thing you can do is chuckle despite yourself as you realise he's asleep. Eyes closed peacefully, lids flickering as he dreams about God-knows-what, nose inhaling and exhaling with such softness his breaths feel like ghosts against your neck. You pull him in close once more, press your lips to his forehead and brush hair out of the way as you settle back now.

"...goodnight, Joey."