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tigertales9 · 1 month

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Hard Reset XII

Pairing: Joe Burrow x Reader

Warnings: 18+

Description: This flashback fic covers Joe & Reader's first Valentine's Day together back at LSU. There's also another flashback nestled within this flashback (Joeception) of when they first met at LSU.

Time/Place: Thursday, Feb. 14, 2019 (Valentine's Day) / Baton Rouge, Louisiana (with a flashback to June 2018)

A/N: This is the twelfth fic in the Hard Reset series.

This flashback got too long so I'm posting it in two parts. The smut is in the second part, but I'm rating this 18+ because it's smut adjacent. I'm hoping to have the next chapter up before this week-end. The smut has been finished for awhile, but I'm just trying to put the finishing touches on the ending. Nothing is coming easy right now, but I refuse to give up. 😋

I've had a few messages asking me if LSU Joe has long or short hair in this flashback. In my mind, he has short hair with the forehead curls (see gif below). I've tried to keep the descriptions ambiguous just in case y'all wanna imagine him with the longer hair.

Since I posted the first part of this as a sneak peek, I put a substantial (bold) cut so you can scroll down and start reading the new content w/o re-reading the sneak peek if you don't want to.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Thursday, Feb. 14, 2019 (Valentine's Day) / Baton Rouge, Louisiana

You exit the cool interior of the grocery store, squinting at the mid-afternoon sun as you quickly make your way to your car, popping the trunk and loading a few bags of groceries inside before hopping into the driver's seat; you slide your sunglasses on and head for the exit, looking both ways before easing out into the traffic on River Road, rolling your windows down and throwing a quick glance at the Mississippi River as it runs parallel to the street, its earthy, fertile scent bringing a smile to your face.

"70 degrees in mid-February!" you mimic in Joe's voice, laughing at the accuracy of your impersonation. "He's def gonna bitch about it," you continue, flicking your turn signal on a few minutes later before making the turn that will take you away from the river and toward your apartment complex.

~ ~ ~

An hour later, you're whipping up some homemade frosting when your bestie/roommate Gina walks in, sniffing the air dramatically.

"Smells like heaven," she groans, eyeing the fluffy pink concoction as you finish beating it with a mixer. "What is it?"

"Raspberry buttercream frosting," you answer, grabbing two spoons and scooping some frosting on each before handing her one. "How's it taste?" you ask, laughing when she makes loud, appreciative noises.

"Delish! I can't believe you made homemade frosting," she marvels. "What ya gonna put it on?"

"Chocolate cupcakes." You step back and wave a hand at the plump cupcakes sitting pretty on a cooling rack beside the oven. "I made these from a triple chocolate cake mix, so they're just semi-homemade."

"Oh, just semi-homemade? I better call the food police," she teases, walking over and leaning down to sniff the cupcakes before throwing you a look. "I hope Joe realizes how lucky he is to have a woman who loves to cook."

"He's very appreciative," you mutter, blushing when she cackles at the look on your face.

"Seven months in and you're still blushing over this man? He's def doing something right."

"Not gonna argue with that," you giggle, peeling the wrapper off one of the still-warm cupcakes before cutting it in half; you smear a generous amount of frosting on both halves before handing one to Gina. "Happy V Day," you state, bumping your cupcake half against hers before taking a big bite. "Happy V Day," she parrots, making num-num noises as she polishes off the confection.

"What are you and Trey doing tonight?" you ask, licking a dollop of frosting off your finger as she rolls her eyes.

"He's bringing take-out over because he waited too long to make a reservation, so literally everywhere decent is booked up. I told him if he brings wings or pizza, he can forget about getting any pussy."

You laugh along with her for a bit before quieting down. "So what did y'all decide on since wings and pizza is clearly a no go?"

"Nothing," she shrugs. "I'm tired of having to ask for things I want. After almost a year and a half together, he should know without me telling him. He's just gotten lazy and expects me to do all the work and make all the decisions. He mostly just sits and scrolls his phone when we're together unless I tell him what to do."

"I hear you. -- So what do you actually want for dinner tonight?"

She thinks for several seconds before answering. "I know it's basic as hell, but I'd love some lasagna and breadsticks from Olive Garden."

"Might be basic but still delicious." You give her a wink as you cover the bowl of frosting with plastic wrap and place it in the fridge. "I made enough cupcakes to share with you and Trey," you continue. "Once they cool completely, I'll frost them for you."

"Thanks, but I might hoard 'em for myself if he shows up with McDonald's or some shit."

You walk out of the kitchen and head toward your bedroom, beckoning Gina to follow. "He's not gonna show up with McDonald's," you scoff, pulling the top drawer of your dresser open to grab two pair of panties, one pink and one red, both with tags still attached.

"What are these?" she asks, eyebrows rising when you hand her the red pair.

"I ordered them a couple of weeks ago. I was starting to think they wouldn't arrive in time, but they got here yesterday. Happy V Day!"

"Thanks, girl!" She holds the flimsy mesh thong up to her face, grinning at you through the gossamer fabric. "These are totally see-through," she giggles, "and that center seam on the crotch is gonna give major camel toe."

"Exactly," you purr, wiggling your blush-pink thong that's identical to hers except for the color. "Next best thing to crotchless without being crotchless."

"Oh shit, that reminds me of the crotchless panties I gave you as a gift!" she chirps. "You wore them for Halloween, right?"

"Yep, Joe totally wrecked them."

"That ain't the only thing he wrecked," she chortles. "You were def walking funny the next day."

You join in the laughter for a sec before speaking. "I mean, yeah, he beat it up for real, but the limp I had was mostly because I tweaked my groin from doing the splits on his face without stretching first. Didn't even realize it until the next day."

"No way!" she hollers, falling onto your bed and kicking her feet in the air while cackling. "Hold up," she gasps after several seconds, pointing at your yoga mat that's rolled up and leaning against the wall in the corner of your room. "Wasn't it just after Halloween when you got majorly into yoga?"

"Maybe," you shrug, grinning ear-to-ear as she mentally connects the dots.

"I thought you were just trying something new since you already do cardio and strength training, but you've actually been getting more limber for sex?"

"Yep, don't wanna pull a muscle."

"You lucky bitch! I can't even get Trey to pull my hair during sex much less pull a damn muscle!"

The look on her face causes you to throw yourself on the bed beside her, both of you roaring with laughter until your phone rings.

"Oh shit, it's Joe," you wheeze as you check the display, gasping for breath to try and get yourself under control before answering. "Hey babe," you manage before immediately dissolving into another fit of giggles.

"Hey," he answers, his voice slightly bemused. "You okay?"

"Y … yeah," you pant, biting your lip hard enough to hurt before cutting a side-eye at Gina, her ridic, bug-eyed expression causing you to snort loudly before howling with laughter.

"Are you laughing or crying?" Joe asks.

"Laugh … ing," you wheeze, taking in copious gulps of air as Gina grabs a pillow and rolls off the bed and onto the floor, using the pillow to muffle her laughter.

"What the hell, babe?" he asks, sounding slightly worried. "Are you sure you're okay?"

"I'm fine." You take a few deep breaths before continuing. "Gina said something funny right before you called."

"Are y'all drunk?"

"No, daddy, we haven't been underage drinking."

"I don't give a shit about underage drinking and you know it. I mean, you'll be 21 in less than three months."

"You sound kinda pissed," you pout, smiling at his heavy sigh.

"I'm not pissed, and I don't care if you've been drinking. Matter of fact, I've got two bottles of your fav blush wine chilling in my fridge for tonight, I just don't want you drinking and driving. Let me know if I need to come get you."

"I haven't been drinking," you reiterate. "I'm putting you on speaker," you continue. "Gina? Have we been drinking?"

"We have not been drinking!" she states loudly from the floor.

"Told ya, daddy," you gloat in your brattiest voice.

"If you call me daddy one more time, we're gonna have a problem."

"You gonna punish me?" you purr. "Maybe ground me for a week?"

"Maybe bend you over, pull your panties down and spank your sweet ass before burying my tongue in your …"

"You're on speaker!" you yelp, laughing as Gina hops up and sprints for the door, throwing you a naughty smirk on the way out.

"Sorry. Got a little carried away," Joe mutters.

"It's fine. Gina ran like hell, but you didn't say anything super raunchy."

"Only because you interrupted me."

"I mean … we were talking about sex when you called."

"Ummm, do I even wanna know the deets since you were laughing so hard you could barely breathe?"

"Just that I got into yoga so I could be super limber for sex with you. You frequently get me in positions where my knees are pushed up by my ears or I'm basically doing the splits."

"What's funny about that?"

"Nothing. I'll tell you more later."

"You like it when I manhandle you a little, right?"

You smile at his uncertain tone. "I love it. You know I love it. The funny part was her reaction. Apparently, Trey doesn't get down like that so she was expressing her, ummm, frustration. The look on her face was what set me off."

"Does Trey know he's a boring lay?"

"Probably not," you giggle, "and don't you dare tell him."

"I hardly ever talk to him. He's been aggravated at me ever since Gina told him I pay for your monthly bikini wax, and now he feels like he has to do the same for her. I told him it's only fair since getting your pubes ripped out is no fun, and it's at least partially being done for his pleasure."

"He can be a little self-centered."

"A little?" Joe snorts.

"Okay, a lot. Gina loves him, though, so hopefully he grows out of it eventually."

"Wouldn't put money on it, but anyway … how's your day going?"

"Good. My classes were boring, as usual, but I have zero homework so that's good. Also, I picked up all the groceries I need to cook dinner for us tonight."

"Did you have any trouble using my credit card?"

You chew on your lip for a second before answering. "I didn't use it."

"Why not?"

"Because I wanted to treat you for once; you always pay for stuff."

"Listen … you go to the store, bring stuff to my place and cook delicious food for us. The least I can do is pay for the groceries."

"Just let me treat you this one time. It's part of my Valentine's Day gift to you."

"We'll see," he mumbles. "Do you need any help getting everything to my place?"

"Nah, I think I can manage the grueling five minute drive by myself," you snark.

"You gonna be a little shit all night, or is this just an appetizer?"

"Just an appetizer," you giggle. "I intend to be way worse later."

"Don't threaten me with a good time."

"It's a promise not a threat," you purr.

"Woman, I need to go work-out, and I don't wanna hit the gym with a hard-on. Can we save the sexy banter for later?"

"Yes, sir," you drawl, putting as much implied sex in the two syllables as possible.

"Keep that same energy for later tonight," he orders, his voice dropping an octave like it always does when he's aroused.

"Yes, sirrrr," you repeat, giggling at his exasperated groan.

"One more 'daddy' or 'sir' out of your pretty mouth, and I'm gonna skip the gym and drive straight to your place."

"No, you won't," you tease. "You're religious about getting your work-outs in."

"Listen, I'm gonna hit the gym, come home, eat dinner with you, then fuck you 'til you can't think straight. Then I'm gonna reload and fuck you again."

"Sounds good," you whisper, a sizzle of anticipation racing down your spine.

"What time are you coming over?" he asks, his voice still thick with arousal.

"Probably about 5:00."

"I'll be back from the gym by 5:30."

"Okay."

"And, babe?"

"Yeah?"

"I intend to go hard so make sure to take your vitamins and stretch."

"Yes, sir," you whimper, ending the call before he can say anything else. "He's def gonna make me pay for that later," you giggle to yourself, hopping off the bed to go find Gina.

* * * end of sneak peek * * *

You find Gina sitting on the sofa when you walk into the living area. "Hey," you grin, plopping down beside her. "Hope we didn't gross you out."

"Not a bit," she laughs, handing you a small gift bag. "It's your fav bath bomb and some chocolate-covered almonds," she continues as you peek into the bag.

"Thank you! That's so sweet." You give her a hug before setting the bag on the coffee table.

"You're welcome. So, you and Joe are staying in tonight, right?"

"Yeah, we don't like going out on holiday nights because of the big crowds."

"Y'all are always on the same wavelength," she smiles. "What are you cooking for him? Besides the cupcakes?"

"His fav spicy Cajun pasta plus garlic bread and salad."

"Is that the pasta that has blackened chicken, shrimp and andouille sausage in it?"

"Yep."

"Yum! That's what I want you to make for my 21st birthday dinner. I've been craving it for a while."

"I mean, I can make it for you sooner than that if you're jonesing. We don't have to wait a whole month until your birthday."

She gives you a smile as she shakes her head. "It'll be worth the wait. Besides, I'm prob gonna be eating a fucking Big Mac and fries for dinner tonight, so I need to let my digestive system recover before I gobble down that delish pasta."

"You're not eating a fucking Big Mac and fries," you laugh, grabbing your phone and hitting a number before putting it on speaker.

"Hey Y/n," Trey drawls. "What's up?"

"Hey." You smile at Gina's surprised expression before continuing. "Listen, lasagna and breadsticks from Olive Garden."

"Ummm, what?"

"You're bringing dinner to Gina for Valentine's, right?"

"Yeah."

"Lasagna and breadsticks from Olive Garden."

"For real?"

"Yep."

"Okay, cool. -- Anything else?"

"Just … remember that Valentine's Day is about romance." You grin at Gina as she bugs her eyes out at you. "Turn your damn phone off and seduce your woman."

"Did she tell you to say that?"

"No, but I've heard her grumble at you a few times lately about constantly being on your phone when y'all are together."

"That's true," he mumbles. "I def need to be better about that."

"Tonight is the perfect time to start."

"Okaaay, so lasagna, breadsticks, seduction and stay off the phone?"

"Yep."

"Got it."

"Cool. Have a nice night." You end the call and level a no-nonsense look at Gina. "Okay, girl, I did my part. You gotta take the reins once he gets here."

"What do you mean?"

"You got a fresh coochie wax and some naughty panties. Put him on his back and sit on his face."

"For real?"

"Yes! I think he's too shy to initiate that kind of action, but I bet he'll be totally into it if you take control."

"I … don't know."

"He goes down on you, right?"

"Yeah, but not like that."

"Not yet," you purr, wiggling your eyebrows.

She gives you a look before taking a deep breath. "I'm gonna try it."

"Yes!" you chirp. "Just make sure you stretch first."

"I will," she giggles, her eyes going wide when the doorbell rings.

"I'll get it," you state, quickly heading to the front door and checking the peephole before opening it. "Wow!" you gush, smiling at the sight of a vase full of blush-pink roses; a head pops out from behind the beautiful arrangement. "Delivery for Y/n," the delivery driver says, giving you a cheerful smile as you reach for the vase.

"That's me."

"I got one more delivery for this address," she says. "Be right back."

You're grinning ear-to-ear when you walk back into the living room.

"Those are gorgeous!" Gina gushes.

"For real! Listen, you need to go to the door; the delivery driver is bringing another arrangement." She gives you a 'say what?' look before heading to the front door.

You set the glass vase on the kitchen island and open the card, reading it out loud. "Happy first Valentine's Day! Can't wait to celebrate many more together. Love, Joe."

You're still smiling when Gina walks in with a vase full of red roses. "Gurrrrl," she chuckles. "I know you told Trey to send these to me."

"I didn't! Swear to God!"

"Really? 'Cause it's kinda cray that Joe and Trey sent the same flowers -- just a diff color -- from the same florist."

You nod your head for a bit before a thought hits you. "I wonder if Joe said something to Trey? If he did, he didn't tell me."

"Call him and ask him."

"Okay," you grin, heading for your bedroom. "Be right back." You close your bedroom door and hit Joe's number, hoping he isn't already working out.

"Hey," he answers almost immediately.

"Hey," you echo. "Thanks for the roses. I love them."

"You're welcome."

"Can you talk for a sec?"

"Yeah. I just got to the gym, but I haven't started working out yet."

"Did you tell Trey to send Gina flowers?"

"Uhhh, no. He called me a few days ago and asked if I was sending you flowers. I said yes and told him what I was sending and the name of the florist. Why?"

"She got the same arrangement you sent me but with red roses instead of pink."

"Well, good for Trey. Maybe there's hope for him after all."

"Maybe so," you grin, dropping your voice a bit. "I really love the roses. Can't wait to thank you for them later. They're gorgeous."

"You're gorgeous," he murmurs.

"You better go get your work-out done so you can hurry up and get home."

"Yes, ma'am."

"Don't expend all of your energy, okay? Save some for me."

"Don't worry about that. I got plenty," he boasts, his cocky tone bringing a smile to your face.

You end the call and walk back into the living area, giving Gina a huge grin as she waits for the deets. "Joe didn't tell Trey to send the roses."

"Really?"

"Really." You explain the situation while she shakes her head.

"Damn, I guess he was afraid Joe would show him up," she giggles.

"A little healthy competition can be a good thing," you state, laughing along with her for several seconds before y'all quiet down. "I should've got Joe a couple more things for V Day," you mumble.

"Whaaaat?" she chirps. "You're cooking him dinner and dessert, plus you're supplying the naughty panties and the contents of said panties."

"That's true," you chuckle, "plus I got him a jigsaw puzzle to remind him of the first … well ... actually the second time he asked me out."

"You mean the second time you shot him down?"

"Yeah," you grin, letting your mind rewind back to June 2018.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Early June 2018 - Baton Rouge, Louisiana (in a small bookstore just off LSU campus)

You take a sip of your iced coffee and scowl at your computer screen, hitting your delete key several times while barely registering the sound of the bell that alerts you to a customer entering the bookstore. "Let me know if you need any help," you automatically say, never taking your eyes off of your screen.

Several minutes later, you catch some movement in your peripheral vision and quickly turn your head, making eye contact with a tall, blonde man for a few seconds before he disappears behind the bookshelves. Haven't seen him here before, you think to yourself, taking another sip of your drink as you continue to look in his direction.

He eventually reappears, and you smile at him. "Need help finding something?" you ask, swallowing hard as he walks toward you, his long-legged stride making you feel a little funny.

"Just looking," he says, the sound of his voice hitting you like a roundhouse kick to the face.

"Oh … okay," you mutter, your pulse picking up as he walks directly up to the large L-shaped desk that serves as a check-out counter and sticks a hand out toward you, his impressive height and broad shoulders completely blocking out the late-afternoon sun streaming in the windows behind him.

"I'm Joe," he announces, giving you a devastating smile when you stand up from your desk chair and grasp his hand.

You try not to react to the electric shock you feel when you nestle your hand in his much bigger one. "I'm Y/n," you mumble.

"Nice to meet you, Y/n. I'm new here. Just recently transferred over from OSU."

"Oklahoma State?" you ask, grinning when he rolls his pretty blue eyes.

"Ohio State," he answers.

"You're a midwestern boy, huh?"

He raises one eyebrow before answering. "A midwestern man."

"My bad," you giggle, biting your lip as a blush rises in your face; his gaze drops down to your mouth and you feel something stir deep inside you, a rush of heat and a steady throb between your legs that makes you react by pressing your thighs together.

"No problem," he states, his already deep voice dropping a full octave lower; he quickly flicks his gaze down to your denim-clad thighs, lingering there briefly before recapturing your gaze.

Got damn, you think to yourself, trying to act normal as your body continues to react to him. I prob need to buy some new batteries for my vibrator, you muse, wiping your sweaty palms on your jeans when his sinful lips curl up in a wicked grin, like he's reading your mind and really liking what he sees.

The entrance bell ringing breaks the porny spell, and you turn your head toward the door, smiling at one of your regular customers. "Hi, Mrs. Peavy. The book you ordered came in today's mail."

"That's great news!" she chirps. "I'm just gonna browse for a bit before I check out."

She disappears back behind the tall bookshelves, and you return your attention to Joe, catching his gaze sliding down your body again before he clears his throat and checks his watch. "I gotta get to the gym," he mutters, raking a hand through his hair while backing away from you. "It was really nice meeting you."

"You too," you grin, shamelessly ogling his ass in his slinky shorts as he heads out the door.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

One week later

You're sipping another iced coffee and staring into space when the entrance bell jingles, pulling your attention to the tall, blonde man striding toward you. "Hey," you grin, standing up as he walks directly up to your desk.

"Hey," he echoes, waggling his large styrofoam cup. "Am I allowed to have this in here?"

"Is it a drive-thru daiquiri? And if it is, are you at least 21?"

"I'm 21, but it's a smoothie not a daiquiri," he chuckles. "I just didn't know if y'all allow drinks in the store."

"It's fine," you state, pointing at your iced coffee. "Drinks are def allowed."

"What is that?" he asks.

"It's an iced mocha latte. I have one every workday to give me a little caffeine boost."

"What days do you work?"

"Monday, Tuesday, and Wednesday 3:00 - 7:00."

"That explains why you weren't here when I popped in last Friday afternoon."

"Yep, that explains it," you say inanely, your pulse picking up at the thought that he came in hoping to see you. He takes a sip of his smoothie, and your gaze is drawn to his throat, his prominent Adam's apple bobbing as he swallows the frosty beverage.

He licks his lips before giving you a lethal grin. "Did you know that you get a greater energy boost from eating an apple instead of drinking a caffeinated beverage?"

"No way," you grin, taking a big slurp of your iced coffee while he gives a vigorous nod, causing a dirty-blonde curl to bounce against his forehead.

"Seriously," he states. "There are studies that show eating an apple gives you a longer energy boost than a cup of coffee. Honeycrisp apples are my fav," he continues. "Have you ever tried one?"

"Maybe baked in a pie or dunked in caramel," you tease, "but be for real. Apples don't have caffeine."

"True," he nods. "It's the natural sugars and the fiber in the skin that give you the sustained energy boost."

"Are you a registered dietician?" you ask with a hint of playful snark.

"No, but I'm an athlete, so I've consulted with lots of dieticians and sports nutritionists."

"I see," you grin, half-convinced he's bullshitting even though he's built like an athlete. "Think I'll stick with my trusty caffeine."

"Cool," he quips, shifting his weight from one foot to the other while raking a hand through his hair. "Sooo, you go to LSU?" he asks.

"Yeah, I'm in my junior year."

"Cool," he repeats. "You taking any summer classes?"

"Just one; it's an online course in business ethics. Super easy."

"What's your major?"

"I'm doing a double major in graphic design and digital advertising."

"That sounds interesting and also a little intense."

"It's really not bad," you admit. "I rarely have homework since I get most everything done in class plus the 12 hours a week I spend here at the bookstore."

"How long have you worked here?"

"Since about midway through freshman year. My parents were against it at first, but they came around once they realized how ideal it is. It's nice to make a little extra money instead of expecting them to pay for everything. Between my partial scholarship and the college fund they started when I was born, I'm gonna graduate with zero student loan debt, which is basically like winning the lottery these days."

"Damn right," he enthuses. "I did my undergrad in finance, and starting a college fund as soon as possible is one of the best things a parent can do for their child."

"Undergrad?" you ask. "Do you already have a degree?"

"Yeah, I got a bachelor's from OSU in consumer and family financial services. I'm a graduate transfer doing a master's in liberal arts."

You raise your eyebrows. "That's quite a move from Ohio to Louisiana. Do you have family here?"

"No … well, not yet. Eventually my teammates will be as close as family."

"Teammates?"

"Yeah, football teammates."

You feel your heart sink at the implication. "You play football?"

"Yeah."

"For the university?"

"Uhhh, yeah. I was a back-up quarterback for three years at OSU, so I transferred here to get a chance to start."

"A fucking quarterback," you mumble under your breath.

"What was that? I didn't hear you."

"Nothing." You give him a bland smile before taking another hearty gulp of your 'caffeinated beverage'.

He watches you closely for a few seconds before speaking. "I take it you don't like football."

"What makes you say that?" you ask, a bit disconcerted that he read you so easily.

"Your whole demeanor changed when I mentioned it."

"I like it fine," you scoff. "I mean, except for the fact that it's violent as fuck, and I'm always worried I might witness a horrific injury. Other than that, I think it's just peachy."

He hits you with that panty-dropping grin, and you're more than a little annoyed when your body reacts. Simmer down, you think to yourself. Nothing dumber than getting sprung over a fuck boy quarterback.

"How many games have you been to here at LSU?" he asks.

"Several," you lie.

"Several, huh? Like at least ten?"

"Like three," you mumble. "The last game I went to kind of ruined it for me."

"What happened? Horrific injury?"

"No. There was a drunk dude sitting beside me who kept sloshing beer on my boots, literally burped in my face, and then had the audacity to get mad when I refused to give him my number."

"Yikes. Not cool."

"Indeed," you grumble.

"Well, if you come watch me play this fall, maybe I can give you a few tips to avoid the drunk assholes."

"As if," you snort, rolling your eyes when he hits you with a pouty expression. That shit's not working on me, pretty boy, you think to yourself, squaring your shoulders as he shifts his weight again and hits you with another smile.

"Well, anyway … would you like to maybe grab lunch or something this week-end?" he asks.

"Ummm, I'm actually hosting a 21st birthday slumber party for a friend this week-end."

"All week-end? Friday through Sunday?"

"Kind of," you mutter, hoping he doesn't ask you to elaborate.

"Cool," he says, "hope y'all have fun."

"Thanks," you mumble, your gaze darting to the door as the bell jingles, signaling a new customer.

"I better get going," he says, giving you a lingering look before striding toward the door.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Two weeks later

You hear the entrance bell jingle and quickly cut a glance at the door, eyes going wide when Joe walks in. Holy shit, take a hint, you think to yourself, giving him a bland look as he walks up to your desk.

"Hey," he smiles.

"Hey," you echo, trying hard not to return his smile.

"How was your slumber party?"

"Good."

The silence stretches out between you for a bit before he speaks up.

"Did I do something to upset you?"

"Nope."

"Okaaay," he mutters, running a hand through his hair while clearing his throat. "Look, I know you don't love football, but I can talk about a lot more than that. I was hoping we could maybe get to know each other better? Maybe just go out for ice cream or lunch sometime?"

"When?" you deadpan.

"Ummm, maybe Friday? I have some team activities Saturday and Sunday."

You give him a tight smile before answering. "Friday's not good for me. I have a 3000 piece jigsaw puzzle that I'm jonesing to finish, and I have it on my schedule for this Friday."

"A jigsaw puzzle?" he asks, his tone bordering on incredulous.

"Yep," you chirp, your expression daring him to question you further.

The silence stretches out for an uncomfortable amount of time before he finally breaks it.

"I get it," he mutters, slowly backing away. "Sorry for bothering you." He spins around and heads for the exit, stopping just before opening the door to look back at you; his gaze lingers on you for several seconds before he pulls the door open and walks out.

You release the breath you didn't realize you were holding and slump back in your desk chair, wondering why you feel so empty when you should really feel amazing for curving an obvious fuck boy.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Two weeks later

You finish the last bite of your shrimp po' boy and dab your mouth with your napkin, quickly turning your head toward the street behind you as a car backfire causes everyone to flinch.

"Got damn!" Gina snaps, grabbing her glass of sweet tea and taking several gulps. "Damn near choked," she wheezes, both of you giggling.

Y'all are sitting at one of many picnic tables at an outdoor food court that's flanked by several food trucks; you take a sip of your sweet tea and turn your head again, scanning the lunchtime crowd until your gaze comes to rest on a familiar figure sitting at a table with a few other guys.

"Oh shit!" you gasp.

"What is it?" Gina asks, her head on a swivel to see what upset you.

"Don't look!" you hiss. "It's Joe."

"Who?"

"That guy who came into the bookstore a few times and asked me out."

"The quarterback?"

"Yes," you whisper, turning your head slowly to find him staring directly at you. "Oh shit, fuck, dammit to hell," you breathe, plastering on a fake smile and waving when he waves at you.

"He's headed this way," Gina warns.

"Should I run?"

"Hell no," she laughs. "Just smile and act unaffected."

"Fuck my life," you mutter, smiling as he walks up to your table. "Hey," you greet, annoyed at the breathless tone of your voice.

"Hey," he echoes.

"Ummm, Joe this is Gina," you say, gesturing toward her, "my roommate and bestie. Gina this is Joe," you continue, gesturing toward him.

"Nice to meet you," Gina says.

"You too," Joe grins, looking back and forth between you before Gina speaks up.

"I'm gonna throw out our trash and head to the car," she announces. "Y'all take your time talking."

"Thanks," you grimace, gesturing at the seat opposite you once Gina vacates it. "Have a seat."

"Thanks," Joe says, dropping his big frame down and resting his ridiculously sexy hands and forearms on the table.

Asshole, you think to yourself, hating the fact that you're incredibly attracted to him. "Sooo, how's your football stuff going?" you ask.

"Good. How's your jigsaw puzzle stuff going?" he asks, not even trying to hide his smirk.

"Good," you state, your cunty expression daring him to call you out.

He stares at you for several seconds before speaking. "Look … I just wanna tell you that the jigsaw puzzle thing is the worst brush off I've ever heard."

"What makes you think it was a brush off?" you ask.

"Because it's ridic. You could've finished the puzzle any other time."

"I could have," you agree. "But I was really looking forward to doing it that specific night."

He tilts his head and gives you a look. "I don't think the puzzle actually exists."

"Oh really?" you mumble, grabbing your phone and scrolling through your pics until you find what you're looking for. "This is it," you say, studying the pic while continuing. "It's a shot from the Hubble telescope." You flip your phone around so he can see it. "It's the …"

"Crab nebula," he finishes your sentence, taking your phone and setting it on the table in front of him. "Damn," he whispers, leaning down for a better look. "This is a beautiful shot." He quickly flicks his gaze up at you before looking back down at your phone. "Most colorized shots of the Crab nebula are depicted in cool colors, but this heat signature is very hot," he murmurs.

Very fucking hot, you think to yourself, studying his face as he continues to look at the pic, his long eyelashes fanned out against his slightly-sunburned cheeks.

He eventually slides your phone across the table toward you and gives you a sheepish grin. "I owe you an apology for not believing you. I'm sorry."

You feel a hot blush rise in your cheeks, more from shame than attraction, and you heave a sigh before responding. "Listen … I did finish the puzzle Friday, but you were right when you said I could've done it another time, so it basically was a brush off."

"Thanks for being honest," he states. "Why don't you simplify this by just saying you aren't interested in me."

"Because that would be a lie," you blurt, surprising yourself just as much as him with your admission.

"Okay, now I'm confused," he grins. "If you're interested then why the brush off?"

You have an answer ready because that's pretty much all you've been thinking about lately. "I just feel like we wouldn't be very compatible."

"What are you basing that on?"

You shrug. "I'm an introverted bookworm who doesn't really like to party. I enjoy cooking for my friends and hanging out at home."

"That perfectly describes me minus the cooking part," he grins, laughing softly when you narrow your eyes at him.

"Boy please," you scoff. "Most college athletes are huge partiers and total manwhores."

"What are you basing that on?" he repeats.

"I'm basing it on my experience, and also things I've seen and heard from friends."

"So you've dated some college athletes?"

"Kind of," you mumble. "He was actually my high school boyfriend, a year older than me. We dated for just over a year before he graduated and went to college. He wasn't talented enough to get a Division 1 football scholarship, but he did get a D2. The school was about a four hour drive from our hometown. He promised me we'd make the distance work, then he proceeded to fuck everything in a skirt the second he hit campus. Luckily I had several other friends at the same school who dropped a dime on his fuck boy ways."

"Was he a quarterback?"

"No, but the quarterback on his college team was even worse. One of those gross dudes who brags about getting more ass than a barstool."

"I see," he mutters, taking a deep breath before continuing. "So now you think all football players are like that? Like 100% of us?"

You shrug. "Maybe not 100% but why chance it? I know that not all snakes are poisonous, but I still avoid 'em. You're a man, though, so you wouldn't understand."

"I understand. And yes, there are plenty of fuck boy athletes, but I'm not one of them."

You bite your bottom lip to quell a skeptical smirk, noting that his gaze drops down to your mouth for several seconds before he continues speaking.

"Can I tell you a little bit about myself?" he asks, finally dragging his gaze back up to your eyes.

"Sure."

"I'm an introverted bookworm who doesn't really like to party," he states, echoing your earlier words. "I spend most of my time at football practice, working out, watching game film, and studying the playbook. Once my classes start, I'll be studying for those, as well. You can usually find me at my apartment or the football facility, which is a five minute drive from my apartment. Occasionally I do something wild like eat at a restaurant, browse a bookstore, or play blackjack at a casino."

You raise an eyebrow, and he chuckles before responding.

"I'm not a gambling addict or anything like that. I don't play very often, but when I do, I win more than I lose." You can't help but smile at his cocky tone as he continues. "I also enjoy playing chess, collecting graphic t-shirts, and reading about plus watching pretty much anything related to how the universe works, hence me nerding out over your Crab nebula puzzle. Physics is my fav subject." He gives you a big grin. "Am I boring you yet?"

"Not yet," you mutter.

"I also enjoy building LEGO sets which are basically just 3D versions of jigsaw puzzles." You stare at each other for several seconds before he speaks up again. "If you get to know me, you'll realize I'm not a stereotypical jock."

Holy shit, he's smooth, you think to yourself, wondering if his earnest expression is real or fake. Prob fake as fuck, you seethe; time to set him straight. "Listen, I'm not gonna jump in bed with you, okay?" you snap. "There are plenty of other women on this campus who'd be DTF if you flash that smile at 'em. Why waste time with me?"

"Because I'm not looking for a quick fuck. I'm looking for someone I can vibe with."

"Running game on me is not gonna work, sweetie," you snort. "You're good at it, don't get me wrong, but I see right through that shit."

"Look, I know you've had some bad experiences, but I swear I'm not running game. Don't punish me for some other guys' sins."

You stare at him without speaking, trying not to show any emotion as he continues.

"Plus, you're the one who keeps mentioning sex," he states matter-of-factly. "I'd just like to get to know you."

"You're right," you mumble, caught somewhere between admiration and aggravation that he's managed to get the upper hand in the conversation; time to put him on the back foot. "That was very presumptuous of me. You're clearly not attracted to me, so I apologize for jumping to that conclusion."

"Okay, that's not true and you know it," he mutters.

"Meaning?"

He runs a hand through his hair before answering. "Meaning … I'm very attracted to you, but I'm not just looking for sex. Does that make sense?"

"No."

His laugh caresses you like a physical touch, and you squirm in your seat, exasperated at the effect he has on you.

"You're really not making this easy," he grins.

"I don't owe you easy," you scoff, biting the inside of your cheek to keep from returning his grin.

"You're absolutely right," he states as he stands up, throwing a quick glance at the table where his friends are sitting before returning his gaze to you. "You don't owe me anything," he continues, smiling as he plucks his sunglasses from the neckline of his t-shirt and slides them on; he waits several seconds -- like he's waiting for you to say something -- before spinning around and heading back to his bros.

He takes three steps before you call his name, your pulse hammering when he turns around and removes his sunglasses before locking eyes with you; you stand up and take a small step in his direction, every pleasure point in your body throbbing in unison when he quickly closes the distance with two long strides, looking down into your upturned face. A thrill shoots through you at how much taller he is than you. Focus! you think to yourself, swallowing hard and licking your lips before speaking.

"Ummm, do you have any plans for this Friday?"

"Not yet," he grins. "What do you have in mind?"

"I have no idea," you admit. "Maybe just grab ice cream or lunch or something?"

"Why don't we exchange numbers then we can decide later?"

"Okay," you mutter, feeling a little lightheaded as y'all exchange numbers.

He eventually slides his phone back in the pocket of his shorts and gives you a cheeky grin. "Just so you know, I don't have sex on the first date," he says, gracing you with another deep laugh that sizzles your nerve endings as your mouth drops open in shock. "Just kidding," he chuckles.

"You better be kidding," you warn in a playful voice. "This is just a friendly hang-out, right? Not a date."

"Of course, very presumptuous of me to call it a date." He gives you a wink before sliding his sunglasses back on.

His wink hits you in all the right places, and you quickly slide your sunglasses on to mask your reaction. "Totally presumptuous," you grumble, matching his grin before spinning around and heading toward the parking lot; you take about a dozen steps before throwing a look over your shoulder, a jolt of heat rushing through you when you see him still watching you. "Fuck," you mutter under your breath, picking up your pace as you head toward your car. "What have I got myself into?"

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

"Y/n?"

Gina's voice snaps you out of your flashback. "Yeah?"

"Girl, you must've been having a spicy daydream because you were damn near drooling!" she chortles.

"Just thinking about when Joe and I first met," you grin, heading to the fridge to pull the frosting out. "Let me get these cupcakes frosted then I'll help you set up a little tablescape for your V Day dinner."

"Martha Stewart ain't got nothing on you," she giggles.

"Damn right," you laugh, grabbing your piping bag and dropping a star tip in before letting your mind wander, a sizzle of anticipation running through you as you think about the night to come.

#joe burrow #joe burrow fan fic #joe burrow fanfic #joe burrow x reader #joe burrow imagine

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