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.
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Roommate!James who has no care for wearing a shirt around the house constantly claiming that “It’s just too hot” unaware of the effect it has on you
Roommate!James who wakes up hours earlier than you to go on a run but is always back on time to make you breakfast, always so willing to take care of his sweet roomie :)
Roommate!James whose woody scent waft throughout the house after he takes a post-workout shower, staining the walls of bathroom and making it impossible for your thoughts to remain chaste
Roommate!James who stays up waiting for you to finish your shift so he can spend the evening with you watching your favourite show along with some not so platonic cuddling…
roommate!james; when you moved into your new flat for uni, you expect the usual chaos. noisy neighbours, overpriced rent, and maybe the occasional awkward encounter in the hallway. what you didn’t expect was James Potter—loud, messy, devastatingly charming James Potter—to be your unexpected new roommate.
due to a paperwork mix up and a sudden vacancy in the shared housing roster, you end up living with him. at first, it’s a lot.
James is everything you thought you didn’t want in a roommate. he’s got a knack for leaving his quidditch gear in the living room, sings poorly in the shower at 7 in the morning, and has a rotating cast of rowdy friends who practically live on your couch. but he’s also funny, thoughtful, the kind of person who makes late night tea when you’ve had a hard day, who leaves post it notes on the fridge with terrible puns just to make you smile, and who—despite his chaotic energy—somehow makes your shared space feel like home.
at first, the boundaries were clear. you’re roommates, nothing more. but James has this way of making everything feel personal—like the way he remembers your coffee order, or how he always waits up when you’re late (even after you told him not to). the closer you get, the more blurred the lines become. there’s tension, unspoken, electric and impossible to ignore. he brushes a hand against yours in the kitchen. you share a blanket on the couch during movie nights. and every time his gaze lingers a little too long, you feel your resolve slipping.
💌 | au collection, main masterlist + marauders masterlist.
roommate!james works / roommate!james masterlist
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.”
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."
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sof please you're a fellow supporter of james having an absolutely massive schlong and i just can't stop thinking about it even after writing about it so i need to bring the excess over here - roommate!james 100% casually walks around naked like he isn't slinging the dong of the century. it's literally hanging there thick and heavy and just THERE and he walks into the kitchen butt naked to grab a snack. you're doing the dishes and he comes in like 'mm mornin' love! came for m'breakfast.' and full on pulls yogurt out of the fridge and takes it back to his room to eat it.
roommate!james who literally just sits on the couch. naked. dick out. he watches tv and you come out of your room like 'oh what are you watching- YOUR FUCKING DICK IS OUT'
you are not safe ANYWHERE in the apartment while james is your roommate. you're reading in bed and he comes in going 'babe can i borrow some of your toothpaste? mine's all out :(' and he's just. standing there. slingin' it. cock out and open to the world.
GAWD something about him just being so casual about it like 'yeah s'my fuckin' cock. so what?' just. need to be dicked down so bad by him i fear. i pray you can relate.
BABE I AM THE PRESIDENT OF THAT CLUB JAMES HAS A THIRD FUCKING LEG I KNOW ITTTTTTTTT
he's also the kind of guy to wake you up at 2am with his dick in your face like "doll, look at this bruise on my dick. d'you think s'okay or should I get that checked out?"
or when you're brushing your teeth at the bathroom sink he'll just walk in, running a hand through his mess of curls, eyes still squinty sleep with a lil "morning, love" and then you stand there jaw on the floor with toothpaste dripping down your chin watching this man take a piss with not a worry in the world, scratching at his tummy absentmindedly </33333
+ i need to cradle his dick in my arms like a baby :'))
hii, for the dreamer girl sleepover (i'm so happy you're having another one of these!!) can i have a moodboard of roommate!james and reader? just light domestic fluff and roommate to lovers vibes
james potter x fem!reader, literally your camera roll if james was your roommate (boyfriend <3)
