joji miller imagines

iced americanos

joji

like every saturday night, max, ian and i strolled through the tiny cafe's doors.

max and i had discovered this cafe a few weeks ago, because it was just down the street from our new apartment.

it's the only cafe in our general vicinity that is open almost all night, which is perfect for all the nights we're up late procrastinating or filming.

the iced americanos here are amazing, and i can tell myself that's the reason i come here so often, but it's actually because of the cute girl who works here.

i've been doing my best to try to talk to her while i order or she's making the drinks, and i'd probably succeed if i wasn't so damn shy.

max and ian constantly tease me about, and how much of a pussy i am, but she's just so pretty.

and just as the sounds of the bell on the door rung as ian pushed it open, and i looked over at the bar to see her raise her head, and jesus fucking christ, how does she look cuter every time i see her?

"good luck," max chuckled, pushing me towards the counter, while him and ian walked to go sit at our usual table.

i walked up to the counter, my heart pounding in my chest, and suddenly i felt so insecure, is this sweater clean? should i have showered before i left? did i look good?--

but i was taken out of my thoughts by her walking up the register, a smile on her face.

"hey, three iced americanos right?" she blushed, her face lighting up, a grin painted on her lips.

i nodded, smiling back softly. and she began to type the order into the register, and as i pulled out my wallet she spoke up again.

"no, it's on the house tonight." she smiled softly, sliding my card back across the counter.

"are you sure? i-" i stuttered, desperately trying to get words out. "i'm sure, don't worry about it," she blushed, turning around to start making the drinks.

and i moved down the counter, watching as she began to pour ice into the cups. she looked so good tonight.

her hair was softly curled, loosely tied back loosely by a scrunchie, pieces falling to frame her face.

she was wearing her usual highwaisted black jeans and a white tee shirt, her red bralette straps showing on her shoulders.

"so, you guys are usually here pretty late? why?" she mumbled, pouring the strong liquid into the cups with ice.

"oh, we usually work late, and the coffees really good here. y-you're really good at making it," i stuttered, swearing at myself in my head for sounding like an idiot.

"oh, thanks," she mumbled, her cheeks turning a fiery red, and she added lids onto all the cups while i turned around to see max and ian giving me the thumbs ups.

and i sighed, turning back around, to see her sliding the cups my way, i smiled softly and mumbled a "thank you," then picked them up, and shook my head at max and ian, signalling that i didn't get her number, for the 8th week in a row.

"oh, it's joji right?" i heard her voice mutter from behind me, and i whipped around, "yeah, that's me."

"i like your music, you're really good at what you do," she smiled, her eyes looking down at her feet.

god, what is she doing to me?

and i turned around, sighing, fuck, well this is day 24 of me pussying out.

and ian looked at me looking hopeful, and i shook my head, and a sudden wave of confidence hit me, and i whipped around.

"do you wanna go out with me?" i asked loudly, and she paused, her face dropping.

"no, sorry." she mumbled, turning around and beginning to clean the coffee machine, and i was a little taken aback.

i nodded and turned around, cups in hand to go meet max and ian.