Impractical Jokers: [Joker]xReader Collection

Joe x Reader - Spilling Over

Anon requested: Could you do a Joe X Reader fluff where he completely loses his temper (I know he's a lil babe but angry Joe is mm) and the reader cowers away and he feels like shit and tries to make it up to her?

BECAUSE HEY, I'M SICK OF JOE GATTO BEING IGNORED - AND NOW HE IS TOO.

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You and Joe seldom argue, but when you do it's disastrous. It starts with the general raising of voices, the furrow of eyebrows, the exaggerated hand gestures and frowns before you descend into shouting, triggering his temper and flinching as the heat turns up between you - and in no way that's good.

You've learned to steer clear of the Joker when he's in a bad mood. One wrong comment and your day is as good as ruined - and the worst part is, you know what'll set him off but sometimes resolve to do it anyway; maybe it's a more carnal piece of you that desires conflict with the usually sweet man. But hell, if you'd have known what fear you'd have been in for, you never would have made a sound in his direction.

The second he comes through the front door, roughed up from head to toe, you know he's been on the receiving end of a harsh punishment. Cheeks puff with humour as he stalks past you, a stormy look on his face as he moves through to the kitchen and begins to scrub his hands clean. Whatever the hell caked his body, it looked gross, like week-old paste left out in the sun for way too long.

"Wow... have a rough one, Joey?" you titter, leaning against the doorway. You're trying to be humourous, to do exactly what he does when things don't go his way: crack a joke and move on. Nine times out of ten, it works, and you're left with a laughing Joker-- but the one time it doesn't is the one time you question just how deeply the hatred within him runs. He's a very loving man, that Joe Gatto, but hell, he can make you forget that on the rare occasion that he loses his temper.

"Yep," he responds tightly, lips forming a thin line after the word has been squeezed past his pride. He's never really bitter about losing - it's the commentary he has to endure while he does so. He's not a sore loser, never has been, and he takes failure in his stride. However, the second his friends start picking apart insecurities (whether they know he's insecure or not) is the second it's no longer fun; the amount of times he's had to pretend a vague comment doesn't hurt him, destroy his mood entirely, is next to ridiculous. "I'd really appreciate some space right now, [Y/N]."

That should've been the end of it. You should've respected his wishes and left him alone to simmer down. No doubt he'd have come around later in the evening, bright and perky, holding a dog leash and inquiring whether you wanted to take the pups out with him for a walk. It could have been that simple. But you, being smart-mouthed, decide to make a comment.

"You sure? Losers tend to need a pick-me-up."

Innocent in nature, and a playful smile adorns your lips as you let it slip-- but Joe doesn't hear that. He hears mockery. He hears insensitivity. He hears blood flooding his head and heat rushing to his stomach as anger finally spills over, patience cracking at the seams and allowing bitterness to seep through. It is with aggression that he turns around, wet hands banging hard against the counter. The harsh sound wipes the smile off of your face instantly.

"God DAMN IT, [Y/N]! Ya just couldn't keep your damn mouth shut, could ya? What, is one favour too much to ask? Ya like pissin' me off, is that it?!"

You're stunned, completely paralysed-- and then your brow furrows, hands resting on your hips. You don't appreciate his tone, his fire. It'd been a mere joke - and a weak one at that. He has no right to be talking as if you never respect his wishes nor listen to him. The nerve.