NFL Imagines

🕸 Joe Burrow 🕸

Title: The Hash-Slinging Slasher
Warnings: A mention of murder

|To all the people who watched SpongeBob growing up, pretend like you don't know who the hash-slinging slasher is. Also, I made up a cousin for Joe|

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The hands of the old clock hanging on the restaurant wall read midnight, but the darkness outside the windows and glass doors already gave away the time.

You and Joe had been "working" in the place since the sun went down and you were beginning to grow tired of the long silence. Joe hadn't muttered a word in what felt like forever, too invested in whatever was on his phone. If you were to guess, he was probably texting Ja'Marr. The quickness of his fingers on the screen and the little smiles and giggles he would occasionally let slip gave it away.

Having finished sweeping, you put the broom away and made your way over to your fiancé. You stop in front of him and smack your hands down on the countertop, startling the blond.

Joe nearly drops his phone and looks up with big eyes, the look in them questioning you and your action. You smile, "I love that we're helping your aunt and uncle out, but there has been no business all night. We've had one customer and that was hours ago. I'm so bored."

He takes a moment to process your words and you can tell by the way his eyes are shifting around the place. They find yours after a moment and he raises his brow. "You aren't scared though, are you?"

The question makes you laugh and you shake your head, confused by it.

"Well I am. Especially after..." he pauses, turning away. You're sure it's for dramatic effect. "Well, you know."

You lean forward, pushing your weight into the counter, and stare him down with curiosity. "After what?"

"You didn't hear?" He ask, surprise overtaking his features. "It was all over the news."

He's dancing around the story and it makes you huff. "Clearly I didn't. Don't leave me hanging." There's an impatient edge to your voice and it makes Joe bite back a grin. He knows exactly how to get you going.

He lowers his chin and watches his fingers as he dances them across the cold countertop before slipping them between yours. "I don't wanna ruin tonight for you..."

"Stop playing around. I want to know," You say, squeezing his hand hard enough to make him finally give in. It was about time he got on with it.

He lightly laughs and flips your hand over. His finger traces the lines in your palm and his eyes follow. "Cant believe you've never heard of the Hash-Slinging Slasher."

He says it so nonchalantly, which surprises you since he looked so scared at the mention of it only seconds ago.

"The Hash-Slinging Slasher?"

"Yes, but most people just call him the Ha—" he abruptly stops, twisting his features in horror and causing you to lean back. "That's all they have the time to say before he gets them!"

You're not buying it. He really thought he could get you with the stupid story, but you don't believe him at all. You roll your eyes and let go of him, a small amused smile forming on your lips.

Joe sees that you don't believe him and he can't have that. "No, I'm serious! Years ago at this very restaurant, the Hash-Slinging Slasher used to be a fry cook. And one night when he was cutting the patties...it happened."