joji miller imagines

apartment 307

It was month six of living with Joji. You had connected through some mutual friends-- he needed to leave his apartment by the first of june, and coincidentally, you needed to escape your old, rundown college apartment by the first of june. Thus, you and joji looked at a few places and picked a small, cozy, apartment, tucked away in a nice neighbourhood.

You and Joji got along quite well. He was relatively clean (for a man), was good at cooking, and didn't mind all the candles you burnt, or all the midnight baking or painting you loved to do. He loved cleaning the bathroom and you loved doing all the dishes. It seemed as if this was a roommate match from heaven.

Over the past six months, you and Joji's relationship had begun to slowly transition from "just roommates"-- to something a bit more... friendly? Sweet? Intimate? It was hard to put your finger on what was exactly going on.

You and Joji's interesting roommate relationship also baffled your friends. You wouldn't be surprised if they had started bets on when one of you would finally make a move.

It was hard to describe what exactly made you begin to adore him, he was just... different? He was sweet and kind, he always was happy to accompany you to get ice cream, and he always offered to drive you both.

He is funny, very funny-- a few weeks ago, over a shared litre of cheap white wine,  he almost made you pee your pants with laughter at an impression of your elderly neighbours across the hallway.

You tried your hardest to not let your fantasies about him get carried away though. The only physical touch you two had done was brushing arms while washing and drying the dishes, or your legs against one another while watching a movie on the couch.

However, he always seemed to know how to keep your heart racing, and keep the tension building. Last night, you two had cooked your usual sunday dinner together, and had a couple glasses of wine. Truthfully, you had way too many, and might have thrown up a little in the kitchen sink... When you woke up the next morning, your memory of the night before was a bit spotty, but you woke up tucked in your bed, heating pad on, fan on, phone plugged into the charger, makeup off, and a glass of water on your nightstand table next to you.

It wasn't just the hangover that made your heart race, it was Joji. He had learned enough about you to take your makeup off for you (you had been very vocal that you had never missed taking your makeup off before bed), needed your heating pad to fall asleep, and a fan to fall asleep too.

The only quirk about your perfect apartment, was what you believed to be a ghost. The ghost originally began as a joke between the two of you, it was something you blamed for an unkept living room, or a missed dish in the sink-- but over time, the ghostly presence had seemed to form into an actual apparition, and it scared the shit out of you.

Mysterious knocks on the door, your bedroom wall, hearing footsteps running down the hallway and scratches on the bathroom door while you showered or brushed your teeth, started to really freak you out. Joji was very skeptical, and tried his best to calm your anxiety around the ghost, but make sure to not dismiss your feelings in the process.

Since the ghost had started to really bother you, joji offered to brush his teeth with you before bed, accompany you to the laundry machines in the basement, and always triple-check that the door was locked before bed.

He was just so sweet... how were you not supposed to fall for him?

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Joji's pov

Max, Ian and I were a few beers deep, sprawled over the living room couches, cracking themselves up with a variety of politically-incorrect jokes. Ian was sitting on the carpet floor, with his laptop was resting on his knees as he read out video ideas for the three of us.