#roommate!james potter

[moonstruckme]

Dizzy

summary: when your roommate James comes home after a night out with his friends, he's acting even more affectionate than usual

cw: alcohol

modern au

roommate!James x fem!reader ♡ 2.7k words

You can always hear when James’ friends come over. The door opens and the sound of them comes pouring through into your flat, the boys always in the middle of bickering or joking or telling some incredibly animated story. 

When you hear their noise late on a Friday night, you pause the movie on your laptop and head for the door, drawn towards their loudness. James’ friends are rowdier than anyone you hang out with, but it’s a happy sort of ruckus. They’re fun and hilarious and surprisingly kind, and you enjoy chatting when they come over. 

“Hi, gorgeous,” Sirius sing-songs, spotting you as soon as you emerge from your room. You laugh at his scratchy, worn-out voice. He sounds like he’s probably been singing at the top of his lungs all night. Dark eyeliner has transferred to the skin under his eyes, but Sirius is the only person you know with his particular ability to make dishevelment look rock-and-roll instead of slobbish. 

“Hi,” you say back, grinning at him. Your eyes search behind him to find Remus, just coming through the doorway. As always, he looks completely different from his other half; whereas Sirius has unmistakably just gotten home from a night out, Remus could just as easily have been at the library in his jeans and t-shirt, except for the faint black smudge where Sirius’ eyeliner has seemingly rubbed off on his cheek. Then you catch sight of James, drooping like an overwatered flower with his arm slung around Remus’ shoulder. “Is he okay?”

“Yeah, he’ll be alright,” Remus grunts, heaving your roommate through the entryway. He tries to send you a smile of greeting, but it’s more of a well-meaning grimace. “He just needs to drink some water.” 

“I won,” Sirius says giddily, stumbling over and grabbing your arm. “I outdrank James Potter.” 

There’s a nervous edge to the laugh that bubbles out of your throat. “That’s great, Sirius, congratulations.” You cast an alarmed look towards Remus. “You all had a competition?”

Remus shakes his head. “They had a competition.”

“I won,” James says suddenly, picking his head up as if revived from a deep sleep. “Don’t listen to him, Y/N, I’m the winner.”

Sirius makes a derisive sound. “You can’t even walk, Potter.” 

“I can,” James defends himself, and slips his arm from around Remus’ shoulder. Both you and Remus put your hands out cautiously like when a toddler takes its first steps, but James totters safely to the couch, leaning against it like he’s just finished a marathon and directing a smug smile towards Sirius. “Suck it, Pads.” 

Sirius’ lips curl impishly. His unsteady gaze settles on Remus, still hovering by the door. “Gotta get home to do that.” 

“Alright,” Remus says quickly, stepping forward to take his boyfriend by the shoulders and steering him towards the door. “We’re gonna go home and get to bed—to sleep.” He’s blushing something fierce, and you do your absolute best not to smile. “Prongs.” James looks up from where he’s been toying with the fabric of your couch throw. “Drink some water, and then go to sleep, yeah?” Remus raises his brows, waiting for confirmation, and James presses a solemn hand to his heart. 

“Your wish is my command, Moony-boy.” 

Remus rolls his eyes but turns to go, sending you a quick goodnight with an apology embedded in his voice before he shuts the door behind him. You lock it, and turn back around to find James performing a lazy somersault over the back of the couch and onto the cushions. 

“James,” you laugh, and he smiles up at you like he doesn’t know what’s so funny but is happy to be a part of it anyway, “do you want to come into the kitchen to have some water?”

James turns pensive. “Is that where you’re going?”

“Mhm.” 

“Then sure.” He hops up a bit too fast, and has to put his arms out in front of him to regain his balance. 

You take his forearm in your hand, knowing you won’t be able to support his weight if he really falls but hoping you can at least slow his descent, and begin walking him toward the kitchen. “Are you feeling dizzy?” you ask him.

James hums. “A bit. But in a good way, you know?”

You don’t, but you nod anyway. “Well,” you say with certainty you can’t feel, “that’s good. Chill here for a second, okay?” You prop him up against the counter, and James melts against it instantly in that easy way he has, leaning back on his elbows and crossing his ankles in front of him. The edge of the counter has to be digging into his back, but James makes it look like the most comfortable spot in the flat. 

You start to grab a glass from the cabinet but then think the better of it, opting for a less destructible plastic cup. You fill it with icy water from the tap. 

“Alright.” You pass it to him. “Don’t drink it too fast.” 

James takes the cup with a smile that’s really much sweeter than your tiny gesture warrants. Then he proceeds to slide the rest of the way down the counter, until he’s sitting with his legs spread out in front of him on the floor. After a moment, you decide to join him, crossing your legs under you and letting your back rest beside his. The floor just seems like the place to be right now. 

For the first time since you’ve known him, James seems content to sit in silence, sipping at his water. Neither of you are looking at each other, or really anywhere in particular. It’s definitely a Friday night, more of the noise of voices and traffic making their way up to your flat than you hear on most days of the week, but your home itself is quiet. The light in the kitchen is dim, coming in from the lamp you’ve left on in the living room, and your body relaxes instinctively in the peaceful dark. 

James has nearly emptied the cup when he says, “Hey,” as if he’s just remembered something important.

You look at him. “What?”

“There’s no ice in here.”

You raise your eyebrows. “Did you want ice? I can put some in, I just thought you preferred drinks without ice.” 

Even in the dim light, you can make out enough of James’ eyes to see the brown in them go absolutely molten. He turns toward you more fully, his shoulder and cheek squished up against the cabinets. “Aww, you knew.”

You laugh at him, his smushed cheek pushing his glasses up on his face and his bottom lip jutting out slightly. The effect is that he looks both worryingly drunk and decidedly endearing. “Of course I know,” you say. “We’re roommates. I’m bound to pick up on things.” 

Your words do nothing to curb James’ adoration. “Still, you noticed,” he says, maudlin. “Thanks, sweetheart.” 

Sweetheart. The word resounds in your head like the happy chime of a bell. James is always calling you that, but usually it seems thrown away, a light little endearment he tacks onto his addresses without thinking. This feels different. It lingers on his tongue like caramel, soft and sticky sweet. Sweetheart. 

“Of course,” you say again, and you’re grateful for the poor lighting that’s hiding your blush. “Ready to go to bed?”

James looks at you like you’ve asked him to solve a calculus equation, thick brows knitting together. Maybe it’s the endearment still ringing in your head, but you really want to smooth the crease from between them with your thumb. You don’t. 

“I dunno,” he says after a moment. “Are you tired?”

“A little,” you admit. “Aren’t you?”

He shrugs. “I could be.” And then he’s hauling himself up, an overly complicated process that involves getting his feet underneath him while he’s already using the counter to pull himself off the floor. You have to bite back a smile as you watch, and when he’s done James extends a hand to you. As if you’re the one who needs help. 

You take it but don’t actually put any of your weight on him as you stand, grabbing his empty cup from the counter. James’ hand is big, engulfing yours easily, and the condensation from the cool water still lingers on his palm. He doesn’t let go as you start towards his bedroom. You tell yourself it’d be mean to pull away on your own. 

“Oh!” he exclaims, once again like he’s discovered something fascinating. “I haven’t even asked—how’s your night been?”

You laugh again. You can never seem to stop laughing around James. “It’s been good, thanks. Not as eventful as yours, I take it.” 

James hums in unhappy affirmation. “Lucky you.”

“Well, seems like you got the true night-out experience.” You bring him to sit on his bed, bending to untie his shoes for him and setting them by the door. “Do you wanna sleep in that or change into pajamas?” you ask, fighting the urge to tack on the honey that pushes at your lips. 

There’s no deliberation there. “Pajama pants, at least. I can’t wear jeans in bed, m’not a monster.”

You smile to yourself, locating a pair of pajama pants on the floor and holding them up for him to see. “These okay?”

“Yeah, thanks.” 

You toss them to him. James starts to strip, and you turn around quickly, going into the bathroom. “So, aside from the drinking contest, did you have a good time tonight?”

“Yeah,” he says lightly. You fill the cup with water from James’ sink and find a bottle of ibuprofen in the drawer underneath. “It wasn’t bad. Remus is so busy lately, it’s good to get to see him at all, and beating Sirius is always fun.” He gives a little laugh. “He’s such a sore loser.” 

“He seemed to think he’d won,” you say, your tone teasingly dubious. 

A harrumph. “If Remus doesn’t set him straight on that, I’ll do it tomorrow.”

You chuckle.

“You’ll tell ‘em, won’t you?”

“For sure. Do you have your pants on yet?”

“Oh. Yeah.” You go back into the bedroom to find James comfy under the covers, smiling sheepishly. “I didn’t know you were waiting for me to tell you, sorry.” 

“No worries.” You smile. He looks so sweet like this, curls splayed out around his head on the pillow the way a kid draws rays around the sun. You set the cup and pill bottle on his nightstand, using your proximity to study his face. His pupils are huge and unfocussed, and the smile he’s aiming at you is a bit too dopey for your liking. “You said you were dizzy…do you think you’re going to be sick?”

“No.” James starts to push himself up as if to make his point, then decides against it, resting his head against the edge of the mattress with a tiny grimace. “Maybe.” 

“That’s okay,” you reassure him, grabbing a wastebasket from under his desk. “Here, I’m going to put this by the bed just in case, okay? And you’ve got water and ibuprofen on the nightstand.” 

James doesn’t respond. He’s looking at you dazedly. 

“James.” You tap his cheek lightly. “Do you understand? You need to use the wastebasket if you feel sick.”

His hand emerges from beneath the covers, fingers braceleting your wrist. “Stay with me,” he mumbles. You’re glad he’s definitely too out of it to feel the quick bumping of your pulse beneath his fingers. When you hesitate a second too long, James tightens his grip beseechingly. “Please, sweetheart?” 

There it is again. Your brain buzzes in response. 

“Alright,” you whisper, brushing a soothing touch against the inside of his forearm, and James releases you. “I was watching a movie before you got home. Want to finish it?”

He agrees, and you go across the hall, retrieving your laptop. You climb over him on the bed, pretending not to feel the brush of a big hand across your hip as though meant to steady you. You settle your laptop between the two of you and press play on the movie.

James leans over, resting his head on your shoulder. “You’re always watching this,” he murmurs. “You don’t get tired of it?”

“Not really,” you reply. “It’s my favorite. But if you are, I can change it.”

He makes a humming sound, and you feel the vibrations in your shoulder. “No, s’alright. Bet you can quote half the film, though, can’t you?” 

You grin. “I’m scared,” you say, in time with the actress on your screen. “I don’t wanna get hurt.” You can feel James smiling, his cheek smushing against your shoulder. You lower your voice into a gruff mockery of the male actor’s intonation. “I’m not gonna hurt you.”

James makes a soft sound of amusement. “Cute,” he murmurs, more to himself than to you. 

You fall into an easy silence, blue light cast over your features as the familiar scenes play out quietly on your laptop. You keep sneaking glances at James, thinking he’s either about to fall asleep or be sick, but he’s watching the movie contentedly, head a solid but welcome weight on your shoulder. He’s evidently decided to discard the shirt he’d worn to the bar, and the skin of his bare shoulder is warm where it presses against your arm. He adjusts his head a little, and his curls tickle the underside of your jaw. You don’t know how he gets them so soft. Not through any strict regimen or product, apparently. One good thing about having a guy for a roommate is that he’s never the one who runs out the hot water; he’s in and out of the shower in ten minutes every time. And yet, if you look closely enough, you can usually find at least two or three perfect coils in his hair. Genetics, you suppose. James was blessed with a good lot of them. 

The movie’s not half done before you’re yawning, your eyelids feeling like someone’s sewn fishing weights into them. You try not to shift, but your shoulders rise with the involuntary inhale, and James looks up at you. You yawn again, covering your mouth with one hand as a tear forms in the corner of your eye, squished out when you blink. You wipe it away. 

“Wait,” James says. You go still, looking over at him curiously as he adjusts against the headboard of his bed, pushing himself further upright. He tilts his head. The back of his index finger brushes gently under your lashes. “You always get teary at night,” he says softly. 

You know you should get out from under his touch, but you can’t make yourself. “I tear up a lot when I yawn.” 

Just thinking about it has you yawning again, and James takes your face in his hand, catching the tear that falls from one eye. 

“Don’t cry,” he begs you. “If you cry, I’ll cry.” 

You take his wrist in your hand, giving him a small smile. “I’m not crying, James. I’m just tired.” 

“Okay,” he murmurs, pressing a kiss, feather-light, just next to your eye. You freeze, but he doesn’t seem to notice. “Okay, m’sorry. You’re tired? Wanna go to sleep?”

You have to clear your throat to make sure your voice comes out right. “Sure.” It’s still a bit hoarse. “Wake me if you need anything, okay?”

James takes your hand, a willing captive between two of his as he draws it into his lap. He settles his head back onto your shoulder. “Okay. You’re too nice to me.” 

“I’m not,” you say, before you can think the better of it. “You’re the nice one.” 

James only hums.

You swallow. “Goodnight.” 

You’re waiting for a response, the movie on your laptop just now getting to the scene where the love interests give in and confess their feelings for each other, when you feel a wet spot forming near the collar of your shirt. Slowly, careful not to jostle him, you tilt your head to look down at the source of the drool puddle. 

James already asleep.

[inkdrinkerworld]

Just want to run to james in tears after having a bad nightmare :(((

Thinking about roommate!james here :)

You wake up to tears streaming down your face and the vaguest memory of someone chasing you.

You can hardly breathe as you sit up and wipe your face. It isn’t often that you get nighterrors like that, one where your real life and your dreams overlap so much that you nearly scream when your bedroom door opens.

“Fuck!” You shrill and James pauses.

“S’just me,” James steps a little further into the room just as you flick on the light of your lamp. Now he can make out the tear tracks going down your face and the way you’re shaking a little. “Bad dream?”

He doesn’t ask it in an unkindly way, just soft and full of concern as he usually is when you’ve woken up in such a state.

“Yeah, can I sleep in your room? Just for tonight.” You promise as if James would ever mind that his sheets smell like lavender after you’ve spent a night in them.

“Course y’can, angel. Let me bring your things.” By things, James means the yellow bear you’ve sitting on your bed, tucked under your duvet right beside your pillow.

As much as you hate to admit, you have a routine with James for nights like these. Nights where you’re breathless and tears are streaming down your face because things that go bump in the night have followed you back to sleep.

It was hard at first, crawling into James’ bed and letting his arms circle you and tickle your back and whisper to you till you fall asleep.

Now, it’s only just a little difficult- mainly because James is warm and comforting and he lets you bring your bear with you with no qualms or snide remarks.

“Did I scream?” You ask as you walk across the hall to James’ room. Another common companion of your rough nights.

“No, but I don’t know. I feel like I’ve developed a sixth sense for when you’re having a rough night, babe.” James pulls back his duvet and watches you climb in and lay your back against the wall.

“I’m sorry, James.”

He only shakes his head as he climbs in beside you. “Nothing to be sorry for, would hate that you spent the night afraid in your bed after one of them.”

James lays flat on his back and lets you arrange yourself on him as you please and then tucks your bear behind you.

Deft fingers climb up your sleep shirt, trailing up and down as warm vanilla and lavender flood his nose.

“S’all over now, angel. Wanna put something on the tv?” You shake your head, your nose brushing along his neck as you inhale James’ spicy cinnamon and clove scent.

“Thanks for always being here, Jamie.” Your hit breath tickles his skin and James has to do everything in his power not to shiver.

“S’no problem, sweetheart,” James thinks to himself that he needs to get his head out of his ass and ask you out soon- especially if you’re going to cozy up on him like this. “Try and get some sleep yeah, we both have nine am’s.”

[noasmirrorball]

a concept:

regulus moving in with james because sirius and remus already live together and he fears he might be uncomfortable and james has a spare room. i want everything, james accidentally walking in on regulus in the shower because he’s not used to having a roommate. all the sexual tension that can fit, james coming home drunk and confessing all his feelings for regulus. james being possessive and a jealous asshole when regulus has a date and the guy comes over to pick him up

[ddejavvu]

Hi! How are you my love? Happy mondayy! Could I request roommate!James Potter where he is usually touchy with the reader and open about his love for her but she always runs in fear of it ruining their friendship? But one evening reader is very soft and touch starved and in need of some love so she goes to him and James is shocked but also melts.

today is multiverse monday, send me any au you can think of! :)

hi lovey happy monday to you too!! <3

--

Your heart shouldn't be pounding in your chest while you walk up to James's open door. He leaves it that way so that you can come and go as you please; he's literally offering you constant access to him. But your nerves are getting the best of you as you shuffle into the doorway, calling his name in a soft, meek voice when he doesn't notice you behind the screen of his phone.

His big brown eyes are wide with curiosity as he glances questioningly at you, "Hm? What's'a matter, love?"

"Can I please have a hug?"

There they were. The six words you'd repeated over and over and over again in your head, trying to drum up the courage to actually say them to James's face. The boy lends affection like band-aids, always eager to patch someone's bad day up with what's in plentiful reserve. but for some reason asking for it now is daunting, especially after the exhausting week you've had.

He blinks in rapid succession at your unusual offer, but he nods where he's laying atop his covers.

"'Course you can have a hug, darling." He drops his phone to his chest, arms outstretched, "C'mere, come get cozy with me."

You're extra mortified about being asked to crawl into bed with the man. He's not going to creep on you, you know that for sure, but it's scary to climb into someone's bed.

"James, I-" You don't want to inconvenience him by asking him to stand, either. You gnaw on the inside of your cheek, troubled eyes laid over him where he's waiting for your embrace.

"Come on," He soothes, opening and closing his hands in rapid succession to lure you in, "Come here, come get a hug."

You take the four steps necessary to stand by his bed, letting him do the rest of the work by taking your hand and pulling you onto the mattress. His arms are around you before you've even gotten adjusted, and you find your face tantalizingly close to his own when you finally settle onto the pillow.

He cages you into his chest, and even though it's exactly what you'd asked for, it's electrifying.

"What's wrong, darling?" He asks, his hand flitting up to trace your jaw with his thumb as he holds it in place so that you can't avoid his eyes.

"I've had a bad week." You lament, "Just- a tiring one, that's all. I'm tired and I don't want to go to work tomorrow."

His pretty brown eyes ooze with sweetness, same as his voice when he croons, "M'sorry, love. I wish you didn't have to go in either. Can you call out sick?"

"They need me to open," You shake your head, relishing the feeling of his arms wound snugly around you while you lay in his embrace, "I just have to get through it."

"Sorry," He repeats, mushing a kiss to your forehead that you think might make you explode into a cloud of ashes on the spot, "Opening shifts suck. Do you open for the rest of the week?"

"No, just tomorrow. I'm off day after next."

"That's good." He hums, and his discerning eyes study you, "You know you don't have to ask for a hug, right? M'always happy to give you one. Jus' go for it, okay?"

"I can't just crawl into your bed whenever I please," You groan, wishing more than ever that you could bury your face into his chest to evade his intense gaze.

"Of course you can," He laughs, and his chest shakes with the sound, jostling you slightly, "That's why I got a big enough mattress for the both of us, sweetheart. Always hoped you'd come for a cuddle."

"James," You warn, cheeks ablaze where he can surely feel the heat against his fingers, "You can't say things like that to me."

"Oh, hush," He scoffs, and this time his plump lips press to the space between your eyes, pushed over the bridge of your nose in an awkward spot. "Just snuggle in, love. You can sleep here tonight, m'kay? I'll set my alarms for you, and rub your back 'till you fall asleep. That way you'll be rested for tomorrow, and then we can spend the day after back in here."

"I'm not spending an entire day in your bed," You lie through your teeth, your tone pointlessly strict.

James knows you're lying, and he hides his grin by letting you mash your face against his chest, already beginning to lay gentle strokes over your back with the tips of his fingers, "Okay, darling. Whatever you say."

[basiatlu]

Day 17: Ritual

I did this in 2 1/2 hrs — I’m a smidge proud.

[falsekingfrancis]

Sirius: Brotherfucker

James: Dude I-

Sirius: >:( Not you

Regulus: I had to ask Lucretia if she wished to be called "aunt" or "cousin." Your insults mean nothing to me

James: I'm sorry you wot

[marsberryart]

Sapphic college roommates peterjames 😘

[enbysiriusblack]

i've been thinking about this post

and now i'm imagining an au where james and remus are roommates/bestfriends from secondary school, and meet sirius and lily who are also roommates/bestfriends since secondary school.

like james begging his parents to go to a public school because he was meant to start some private, boarding school at 11 years old but didn't want to be away from his parents for so long. he meets remus on the first day in their form and immediately decides he wants to befriend him because remus has a star wars pencil case and james loves star wars. they both realise they love lando and slowly best friends.

lily getting a full scholarship to some posh, private, boarding school and then immediately becoming so overwhelmed by all the posh wankers around her. then she meets sirius in class who is also a posh wanker but he's also funny and rude and she finds him very endearing even though he keeps calling her 'red'. they become proper friends when lily hits someone with her maths book for calling sirius by his last name because although she doesn't know why, he seems to hate being called it.

[hihimissamericanbi]

Filthy Friday

Hello who wants a sneak peak of the long-awaited Part 2 of The Roommate? NSFW under the cut. Special thanks to @thisliminalspacedaydreams for jumpstarting my brain on this.

Tagging some friends. Gimme your filth snippets!! @spookymoonie @kaaaaaaarf @imdamagecontrol @greenvlvetcouch @strezzlecki @emeryhall uhhh anyone else who wants praise for their smut!!! I'll tell you you're a very good girl/boy/baby/plaything/gurl/boi/etc etc <3

 “Oh, I’m sorry, maybe I didn't make myself clear.” Regulus reaches out one pale, long-fingered hand and grips James by the chin, hard enough to bruise. “Get on your fucking back so I can ride your cock until I milk you dry. Get on your back so I can come all over your chest then lick it off your skin, kiss myself into your mouth. Get on your back so I can hold you, soft and spent, inside my hole until you replace your dick with your fingers, until you feel how loose and sloppy I am from taking your fat fucking cock."

[moonstruckme]

Can you maybe do something with one of the marauders being protective of reader (not poly just a marauder of your choice)

Thanks for requesting!

cw: slightly possessive behavior

roommate!James x fem!reader ♡ 883 words

“Who-oa.” James gawps as you walk past his room, and you turn your head to hide a little smile. “Where are you going so dolled up?”

Your smile slips, brow pinching. “Do I look dolled up?” You backtrack a couple of steps, stopping in front of James’ doorway. “Is it too much?” 

“I don’t think so,” he says, regarding you from where he sits on his bed. He leans back on his hands. “You look nice. I only say ‘dolled up’ because you’ve got a tad more makeup on than usual, and you’re wearing that top that makes your eyes look pretty. I guess, ah, whether it’s too much might depend on where you’re going. Which is…?”

“Is the makeup that obvious?” 

“No, but I see you every day. Where are you going?” 

“Dinner.” You blow out a breath, starting back down the hall. 

You hear James’ mattress squeak, and then he’s following you. Down the stairs and into the kitchen. “Dinner with whom, may I ask?” 

“A friend of a friend. Have you seen my chapstick?” 

“Is this a date?” 

You pause for a second in your search before jump-starting again. “Using the word makes me nervous.” 

“Sorry,” James laughs, the sound like sunlight refracting off water. It relaxes you slightly. “I thought you hated going on dates.” 

“I’m trying to get over it.” You check behind the coffee maker, frowning. “Seriously, I don’t have another tube of chapstick. I thought I left it in here yesterday.” 

“Did you maybe put it in your bag when we went for pizza last night?” 

James’ eyes crease with his smile when your expression lightens. “You’re so right,” you say, starting back for the stairs. “Thanks.” 

“No problem. So, have you met this guy before?” 

“Nope.” In your haste you miss a step, but James’ hand is right there to steady you. You keep going. “It’s like an arranged marriage, except instead of meeting him at the altar I’m meeting him when he picks me up.” 

“Charming. And when is he picking you up?” 

“Any minute now.” Your voice is pitchy with false cheer, betraying the hummingbird-fast beating of your heart. 

“Doesn’t it worry you that you’re entrusting your safety for the night to this man you’ve never met?” 

Your hands are actually trembling as you grab the chapstick from the bag you’d used last night, sticking it in your pocket. “It does, yeah. Thanks for the reminder.” 

You turn back around, but James catches you. His hands are warm on your upper arms and his gaze is kind. Steady. 

“Sorry,” he says, “I’m not trying to freak you out. I just want to make sure you’ll be okay. Are you bringing your alarm?” 

“It’s a public place, James. Ideally he’s not the type to try anything regardless, but surely he won’t in a restaurant.” He looks dissatisfied. “But yes, it’s in my pocket.” 

“Attagirl.” James gives your arms a squeeze before releasing you, flopping down on your bed. 

It’s not a second later that the doorbell rings and he’s popping right back up again, hot on your heels as you go down the stairs. 

“What are you doing?” you hiss, batting him away as you go for the door. “Go be somewhere else!” 

James holds up his hands in surrender and sits down on the couch, but his eyes are trained on the door as you open it up to greet the man outside. 

“Hi,” you say, plastering on a smile. 

“Hi.” He smiles back. He’s handsome, well-dressed, and carrying flowers. You’re instantly charmed. “Are you y/n? My friend gave me this address.” 

“Yeah,” you laugh, and it comes out awkward and pitchy. “Yeah, that’s me.” 

“And you are?” Suddenly James is behind you, leaning over your shoulder.

Your date blinks. He says his name like it’s a question. 

“Sorry, this is just my roommate.” You laugh again, the nerves in it even more prominent now, and try to shoulder James back from the door. 

Unfortunately, James is an immovable wall of solid muscle. He acts like he doesn’t notice. “Nice to meet you. And your last name?” 

“James!” You turn to him, appalled. Tell your date, “Ignore him. I’m so sorry.” 

“I just feel like it’d be good information to have,” James says with a shrug. You think he’s trying to look intimidating, but it’s really not a very practiced air on him. His big frame does something to make up for it though, biceps bulging where they’re crossed in front of his chest. To you, he still looks decidedly huggable, but your date appears as though he’s garnered a different impression. 

“But anyway, you two have fun.” James smiles. You’d have to really know him to know he doesn’t mean it. “Enjoy dinner, and have her back by ten.” 

You and your date both chuckle, though you can tell from your roommate’s expression that he’s not fully joking. He keeps up the affable grin anyway. 

“Okay, dad,” you tease, squeezing out the door and starting down the front steps. Your date follows. “I’ll see you later.” 

“See you at ten.” James steps into the doorframe, waving. “I’ll be here. Don’t forget that your safety alarm is in your pocket!”

Your face heats. When you get home, you’re going to kill him.

[sunfl0w3rmoon]

✨Marauders as things my roommate and I have said ✨

James: Did you make yourself a little drinky-poo?

Remus: Yeah, it’s straight whiskey

James: Oh

———

Sirius: I’ll see you tomorrow

James: No, I’ll see YOU tomorrow

S: Not if I see you first

J: No, I’ll be in your bed in the morning, directly over top of you

S: That’s terrifying, I wish my door had a lock

J: I’m glad it doesn’t

———

*sees a book titled “Go the F*ck to Sleep”*

Sirius: Awww, Remus, they made a book for you

———

James: Love Story is playing and no one is pretending to propose to me ???

Sirius: *sends picture of a ring* consider this a proposal🫶🏼

———

Peter: Okay so a centipede type creature just skidaddled across our living room rug and I don’t know where it went but it’s in the house

Sirius: Ew. I’ll burn our house down with that bastard in it

———

*at the gay bar*

Remus: James… I love you… don’t grind on me

———

Peter: Is Bottoms a better movie than The Godfather?

Remus: Yes

———

*singing*

James: Good niiiiiiiiiiiiiight

Sirius: Good niiiiiiiiiiiiiiight

J: Sleep tiiiiiiiiiiiiiight

S: Don’t let the bed bugs biiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiite

(Every night)

[rayssion]

Still about Jegulus,

Lily: so, who kills the spiders?

Sirius:

Remus: me.

[ddejavvu]

Best friend!James with very little boundaries is my new fav 🥴 and when you try to explain boundaries most best friends have to him he just tilts his head like a puppy cause he doesn’t understand 🥰🥰

this post is 18+, minors dni.

It's not that you don't want James to see your boobs. It's just that maybe, you'd rather him have seen them chubbed up in a tight lacy bra, not hanging loose and soaped up in the shower. You'd had no time to cover yourself when the shower door slides open, James's head popping curls-first into the steamy space.

"Love," He calls, and you flinch violently, "Have you seen my red water bottle?"

"Wh- James!" You shriek, hands frantically trying to cover both your tits and your cunt, "Get out!"

In your haste to make yourself modest a few droplets of water fling off of your skin, dotting over James's face and narrowly avoiding his eye.

'Ah-" He grimaces, rubbing at his now-wet face with his hands, "What's the matter with you? I just want to know where my water bottle is!"

"I'm in the shower," You gush, cheeks hotter than the water at his presence while you're so vulnerable, "James, who barges in on someone in the shower?"

"Someone who's looking for his water," James groans, blinking blearily at you, "Relax, darling, 's not a big deal. Everyone's got a body."

You're aware of that. James has a habit of walking around with his completely exposed, and you have a particularly hard time pretending it's not affecting you. You see his dick nearly as much as you see his face, and it just so happened to be on your mind beneath the steamy water just before James decided he was joining in on your shower.

"Well yeah," You huff, thighs clenched, "-but- but these are my tits! You can't see my tits!"

"You've seen my tits," James squints incredulously at you, "And I'm not even lookin' at 'em! My eyes are on your eyes!"

"Your eyes need to be out of the bathroom," You groan, "James, normal roommates do not see each other naked."

"Yeah, but we're not normal roommates, are we?" James furrows his brows, "We're best friends. Listen, if it really bothers you, love, I'll-" He flounders, "-Uh, cover my eyes." He does so, throwing a lazy hand over his face. "But I'm still looking for my water bottle."

"Best friends don't- ugh," You shake your head, still covering your body despite the fact that James has shielded his eyes by now, "Never mind. Your water is," You blink rapidly, trying to clear your brain from the fog that's settled over it now that James, James Potter, your best friend has seen your tits, "It's on the table on the patio, James. You left it out there last night."

"Thanks," Even through his makeshift face-covering you can see his grin, and you're sure his eyes are scrunched with happy little lines at the corners, "You're a lifesaver, babe."

"Just get out," You breathe, heart pounding in your ears, "And- and you'd better be clothed when I get out of the shower!"

He takes your advice. Partially, you suppose, because when you wrap a towel around yourself and step out of the tiled walls, James is standing at the kitchen counter pantsless, brushing his teeth. The shirt he's wearing is yours, and it's cropped, and his lower half is completely exposed.

"James!" You snap, nearly dropping your towel in an attempt to cover your eyes, "I said clothed!"

"I am clothed!" He insists, words garbled with toothpaste foam, "You were freaking out about tits in the shower, so I covered mine! What more do you want?"

"Pants, James, pants! I want you to put on pants!"

"You're not wearing pants," James grumbles, "That's not fair."

"I've got a towel-" You break off, suppressing an exasperated scream as your cheeks flare once more, "James, best friends don't see each other naked."

"Yes they do," He snorts, "We do. Why wouldn't they?"

"'Cause it's inappropriate," You whine, still scrunching your eyes shut in the warm bathroom, clutching your towel for dear life, "That's something only your girlfriend should see."

"Eh," He spits his toothpaste into the sink, you hear it hit the basin, and you imagine him shrugging, "You're close enough. 'Think we should just kiss and make it official?"

"James," You warn, stomach engaging in an impressive gymnastics routine," Do not joke about kissing me while your cock is out."

"Relax, darling," You hear him rinse and spit, then you feel his lips against your temple, a sensation that makes you full-body flinch, "Wasn't a joke. I'm gonna go put some pants on, m'kay?"

And just like that, he's gone. Of course, he doesn't bother closing the bathroom door behind him, and the second you shut it your back is pressed against it, head thrown against the door. Evidently, it makes too loud of a noise, and your silent freakout is interrupted by James.

It seems to be what he does best.

"Darling?" He calls, doorknob turning beside you, held closed only by your weight, "Are you alright in there? Did you fall?"

"No! No, James," You call, eyes wide and cheeks ablaze, "Don't come in."

"Are you okay?" He presses on, and you gush, 'Yes!'

"I'm fine," You promise, trying desperately not to envision James's half-naked form so that you don't need another, much colder shower, "Just- put some pants on, James. Please."

[gwenmontrose]

Relationship Advice

Read it now on AO3

It's the world's most obvious cliché, but James never learned to be careful and he all but went and fell in love with his spirited, gorgeous, red-headed roommate. Now, he surely can't confess his feelings to her, but there's nothing wrong with venting about his unrequited love to a bunch of strangers on Reddit, right? Right???

[wearingaberetinparis]

The Platonic Roommate Chronicles - Part One

I woke up this morning and had this idea in mind. Written for @jilymicrofics. More to follow!

Prompt: Dream Words: 554 Rating: M

“I think we should have sex.” He promptly choked on his tea. “Excuse me?” “Sex,” she repeated, oh so casually. As if she hadn’t just turned his entire world upside down by voicing his deepest, darkest desires which he needed to remind himself – like a daily affirmation – would never see the light of day. “You and I should have sex.”

Or: Lily Evans and James Potter are very platonic roommates, who definitely aren't in lust or love.

Read on AO3 HERE. More to be added.

[padfootswhiskers]

but what behaviours made dumbledore realise nagini is a horcrux is the question…