Impractical Jokers: [Joker]xReader Collection

Joe x Reader - Be Merry!

You hate the winter. The abrupt winds, the blustering snow storms and then slippery pavements that you'd fallen victim to more than once. It's all too much for you to cope with and, as the time of the year rolls around, despite you wishing with all your might that it wouldn't, you become excessively grumpy. A thick cloud of post-summer depression hangs over your head obnoxiously.

"Come on!"

The cheery voice from beside you makes you roll your eyes, speed up in your stride as you rush to get home. As much as you adore Joe, your personalities come this shitty time of year are like oil and water: they don't mix.

An arm wraps around your shoulders, his reddened cheeks and nose coming into view as his eyes search yours brightly. "Live a little!"

"No," you grumble, walking faster in the hopes that you'll reach home before he can force a smile onto your face. Because he has that effect on you, the cheerful bastard, always makes you abandon your own resolve as you laugh breathlessly at his wisecracks.

Gatto swings dramatically around a lamppost and your cheeks puff with halted laughter before you force yourself to remain quiet. "Find true loveee!"

He's singing, and people on the streets are beginning to turn and look at you. And the best part? They don't look annoyed. Joe is a well-loved member of the community, makes everybody smile and laugh to their heart's content. As you approach the door, he places his hands on your shoulders.

"I'll settle for ya just pissin' in the snow?" he asks hopefully, despite the fact that he's joking. You shove him lightly, listening to the amused bark of laughter that leaves his mouth. The key jams into the lock and you're yanking the door open without missing a beat; you have half a mind to shut him out, if only for a few moments of watching him laugh outside the door, but you resist and close it behind him. The warm air is always a welcome sensation, a heat that envelops you comfortably as you begin to hang up your coat and slip off your shoes before rushing to the kitchen and putting the kettle on.

Once it's been brewed, you set on making some hot chocolate. Joe has shed his coat, is standing in your doorway with his hands pressed on either side of the frame, a dark blue shirt adorning his body. Barely able to concentrate on the pouring of your drink as you catch sight of him - because he looks oh-so attractive like that - you lift your arm to open the cupboard to retrieve marshmallows... before thinking better of it.

At this, Gatto rolls his eyes and walks briskly over to you. Hand enclosing around the packet, he takes them out and opens them. "It's Christmas."

"It's the thirteenth of–"

"It's Christmas."

And there's no arguing with him as he begins to put marshmallow after marshmallow into your steaming drink. He knows what a sucker for them you are and when the colder seasons come around you stock up gluttonously in the hopes that you'll be able to justify using them all. The Joker doesn't understand why you withhold; why save them for a special occasion if it means marginalising your own enjoyment on a day-to-day basis?

"Joe, that's enough," you speak up once the top if positively teaming with the fluffy treats. Bringing the cup to your lips before he can ignore you and add more, you sip and then sigh, leaning against the counter with relief. The warmth is an adored sensation as it soothes the biting chill inside. "Mm... so good."

Joe's lofty smile makes you perk a brow.

"...what?"

"Nothin'," he replies evasively, shrugging his shoulders as he leans on his elbows on the kitchen counter. As you take another drink, you peer at him over the rim of your mug and watch as he smiles wider with every passing moment. "Just thinkin' how cute ya look when you're drinkin'."

Immediately, you put the cup down on the kitchen counter and fold you arms one over the other, pouting. "Shut up, you!"

Joe chuckles softly, eyes growing softer as he looks at you... before he scoffs lightly with laughter. "Y'may be a miserable little scrooge come the winter but you're a cutie, really."

Heat colours your cheeks and he takes a step towards you, you taking a defensive one back as he threatens your moodiness with his permanent cheer. Accusingly, you jab a finger in his face and push him back via his nose - and his face scrunches adorably at that, a puff of air leaving his lips in the form of a surprised splutter before he's chuckling and catching your wrist.

"Cutie."

"No!"

"Cute-ieee."

And you give in - because there's no changing his mind when it is made up. Besides, 

you rather like the attention. The fact that someone finds you cute... it thaws your ice-cold heart and makes your stomach flutter stupidly. Maybe, just for him, you can stomach being cute. He's adorable enough himself.