Impractical Jokers: [Joker]xReader Collection

Joe x Reader - The Storm Before the Calm

Hands can no longer stay at bay, scrabbling to cling at his shoulders as he pushes two fingers inside of you and fucks you with them. Legs tremble, a hand slips to his forearm and he's back to grinning as he realises that blood has been trailed down the skin of your groin. He stops abruptly, sweeps your legs out from under you with a firm swipe of his leg; you land on your hands and knees, palms bracing your fall. Gatto drops to his knees behind you, hands grasping your ass and pulling you closer as he ducks beneath you and begins to lap at your opening with his tongue.

Hands clench into tight little fists as you moan and whimper whenever his tongue touches you. Along your entrance before dipping in and sampling the tang of you mixed with foreign blood that had previously been on his fingers, pulling away with eyes fluttering shut and a satisfied groan escaping his throat. Tongue flattens against your clit, laps desperately, flicks with dexterity that has your arms shaking.

"J-Joe–"

He pulls away, much to your dismay, though the sound of pants being unzipped and his belt being tugged from his hips makes you feel better. Not to be confused with stupid, you're desperate for his touch; somehow, the terror you're feeling only seems to elevate the touches he gives to you, the stimulation he offers enough to have you seeing fireworks.

"You don't say much, do ya? Seem mighty fond of my name," he mocks, before rubbing leather against your backside; his belt buckle clinks, has you whimpering quietly before he pulls it back and hits you with it. The yelp you let out bounces off of the walls and makes the man smirk. "Like it?"

"P-Please, more–"

"Look at you." Gatto scoffs, whipping you with the belt again, revelling in the loud moan you release as pleasure fizzles along your spine and leaves you aching for more. "Does little [Y/N] like it when it hurts?" He's mocking you, a hand closing furiously over himself as he pumps once, twice and then slides into your heat. Arms give out, your chin connecting with the ground as he slams his hips into you. Tossing his head back and releasing a pleased groan, the man begins to move. With your whimpering, he lets loose a 'tch' before looping the belt around your neck and tugging it tight. You choke. "Shut your mouth– take it."

Grit teeth cage screams as you nod your head and gasp for air when he loosens his grip on the leather enough for you to take a gulp of it. Blood-stained hands trail greedily over flesh, feeling at your ass and thighs before his mouth lands with a deceptively soft kiss to the base of your spine. He's thrusting wildly, madly, hands digging into flesh enough to hurt as you writhe and pant beneath him.

"I resent you," he hisses, thrusting impossibly harder before he stops moving and lays kisses all up your back, teeth latching lightly onto your earlobe as he leans over you and breathes shallowly. A voice that bites and tears pieces of you out. "...I resent what you've done to me. What you've reduced me to. I should just get rid of you– I should fuckin' murder ya... but I can't, and I hate you for that."

The words sting more than any of your forming bruises do, eyes screwing shut as you fight back tears - both of pain and disgust, for you can't bring yourself to push him away; because he feels amazing.

"I hate that I love ya. And you feel so good, fuck you."

And then he's moving again, his hand coming to clasp around the back of your neck as he pushes your face harder into the floor. The in-and-out movement of his hard shaft has you whimpering, then yelping, the sound of flesh slapping against flesh without abandon enough to bring you to the edge as you lay there shuddering.

"Please, please," you plead, as his fingers slip to your front and toy with your clit. You scream, coming undone, cumming hard onto his hand as he continues to get you off. Before you can even see straight, he's pulled out of you and yanked you onto your knees, bunching your hair in a tight fist while his other sports his throbbing member.

"You spill a drop, I'll lose my goddamn mind," Gatto snarls, before he orgasms hard with a grunt. Your lips obediently come to wrap around his tip, hot release hitting the back of your throat. The taste of him so satisfying you almost sob as you swallow all of him and lick him clean; at this, as if you've displayed some astounding behaviour, he loosens his grip in your hair and strokes through it instead. "...good girl."

The praise makes you keen, rub your cheek against his bare thigh much like a cat rubbing against its owner. Joe tries to look cold, unfeeling, lips pressed firmly together as he battles back a satisfied smile... but the most he can manage is a sigh of resignation as he gives in to the post-orgasmic haze that clouds his judgement.

"Thank you, Joe." The words confuse him, his brow dipping - don't you get it? He kills people. And now you know, if you were degree of clever, you should be running for the hills. Perhaps you're in too deep, just as he is, legs swallowed by the quicksand that is his temperament before you even had a chance to flee. The male sinks to his knees, eases you backwards and hovers above you on his hands and knees. Lips latch onto your neck, then teeth, re-drawing blood from the mark he'd left before.

Fingers swipe at the small pool of crimson before smearing it against your lips. He kisses you, soft and slow, tongue running along your lips as he tastes you in a way so intimate you shake and grasp at his forearms.

"The hell am I gonna do with you...?"

The movement of his mouth has you shaking your head at him lightly, eyes fluttering closed and hands daring to touch each side of his face as you kiss him again, tongue moving against his as you taste yourself on his breath. Shuddering, arching against him, you moan low in your throat and feel him shiver.

"Keep me," you beg in a tone made of glass. "Please keep me. I'll do anything."

The admission makes Joe bristle, staring down at you with eyes that search, eyes that probe for deceit before he relents, looks away, a pang of contemplation on his face before he looks at you again. Brilliant blue, the sea you've been lost in since day one, flickers and turns... before settling, like waves after a storm has passed.

For the first time, Joe Gatto is calm.