One person signed the lease. You pay that person every month. Somewhere between those two facts sits your entire housing situation, and none of it exists on paper. A roommate agreement for someone not on the lease is the only document that will exist if this goes wrong, because the landlord has never heard your name and the lease doesn't mention you.
Most roommate agreement advice is written for two people who both signed: chore rotas, quiet hours, whose turn it is to buy dish soap. That's a different problem. Your risk is that you can lose your deposit, your notice period and your home inside a week, and the person who can do that to you is someone you share a fridge with.
Here are the five mistakes, worst first.

Do we really need a written roommate agreement if we're friends?
Yes, and the friendship is the reason, not the exception to it. The agreement you skip is the one that decides who is right on the day the friendship stops working, and by then neither of you will remember the conversation the same way.
It starts in a hallway. "Just send me nine hundred on the first and we'll figure the rest out." You do. It works beautifully for seven months. Then the leaseholder's partner moves in, or their hours get cut and they want your share on the 25th instead of the 1st, or their sister needs the box room and suddenly you're the flexible one because you're the one without a signature on anything.
Writing it down feels like an accusation, which is exactly why people don't. There's an unspoken favour dynamic here: they had the flat, they let you in, asking for a contract reads as "I don't trust you." And the person holding the lease holds all the leverage, so the person with less power is the one who has to raise it. That's uncomfortable. Do it anyway.
One page covers it. The fields that matter:
- The address, and which room is yours, plus any storage, parking space or shed you're actually allowed to use
- The monthly amount, the due date, and precisely what it includes (does the 900 cover gas, electricity, internet, council tax or the equivalent? If not, how are those split?)
- How you pay and to whom
- The deposit: amount, who holds it, what can be deducted, and the deadline for return
- Notice period, in both directions
- What happens if the leaseholder's own tenancy ends
- Who owns which furniture, and how long you have to collect your things
- Guests, including the point at which a guest becomes a resident. Ten nights in a calendar month is a reasonable line. After that they contribute.
The sentence that gets this started without a fight: "I want to write this down so neither of us has to remember it in the middle of an argument." Or, if that's too abstract for them, make it concrete: "If you got a job in Manchester tomorrow, how much time would I have? I'd rather know now than find out then."
Both of you sign. Both of you keep a copy. Then email the signed version to each other, because that timestamps it and puts it somewhere neither of you can quietly lose.
Am I even allowed to live here if I'm not on the lease?
That depends on the lease and your local law, and you should read the lease before you unpack, not after. Ask the leaseholder to photograph all of it, including the pages nobody reads.
You're looking for three things: occupancy limits, a clause requiring the landlord's written consent to sublet or add an occupant, and the guest rule. Plenty of leases say a guest staying more than 14 consecutive nights, or 30 nights in a year, becomes an unauthorised occupant. If you're unauthorised, the landlord can serve the leaseholder with a notice to cure, and the cure is you leaving. Your friend then chooses between their tenancy and you. They will choose their tenancy, and they will feel terrible about it, and you will still be packing.
What you are legally varies enormously by jurisdiction, which is why blanket advice on this is useless. Three examples of how wide the spread is:
- In New York City, Administrative Code § 26-521 makes it unlawful to evict by lockout anyone who has occupied a dwelling for 30 consecutive days, lease or no lease. New York Real Property Law § 235-f separately gives a tenant the right to share with one additional occupant plus that occupant's dependent children.
- In California, Civil Code § 1946.5 allows a lodger in an owner-occupied house to be removed with written notice equal to the rental period and no court process at all. That rule is narrow (owner-occupied, single lodger), and a subtenant of a tenant sits somewhere else entirely.
- In England and Wales, if you share a kitchen or bathroom with the person you pay, you are an "excluded occupier" under the Protection from Eviction Act 1977, and you can be asked to leave with reasonable notice and no court order.
Same arrangement, wildly different outcomes. Find out which one is yours before money changes hands. Searching your city plus "subtenant rights" and looking for a local tenants' union page takes fifteen minutes.
Asking to see the lease feels nosy, and a lot of people would honestly rather not know the answer. Ask anyway, then write one line into your agreement: "Leaseholder confirms the lease permits an additional occupant," or "Leaseholder will request written consent from the landlord by 1 March." If the landlord replies to an email with "that's fine, no problem," save that email somewhere permanent. In a dispute it is worth more than everything else you have.
Does it matter how I pay rent if I'm not on the lease?
It matters more than any other thing you do monthly. If you can't show a pattern of payments tied to a specific address, you have no evidence you were ever a resident rather than a guest who overstayed, and "resident" is the word that gives you protection in most places.
Here's how it goes wrong. Cash in an envelope on the kitchen counter, because they asked and it was easier. Or a payment app transfer with a pizza emoji in the memo field, because the app asked for a note and typing "rent" felt weirdly formal between friends. Fourteen months later you're standing in a doorway, or in front of a housing officer, trying to explain that you paid £12,600 to live here, and every single transfer says 🍕.
So:
- Bank transfer or app, with the same memo every month: "Rent + bills, 44 Bell St Flat 3, March 2026." Boring, identical, dated. That's the point.
- If cash is genuinely non-negotiable, get a text. "Just left £900 on the side for April rent at Bell St." Then wait for "got it, thanks." Screenshot both. That two-message exchange has settled more of these disputes than any handshake ever has.
- Pay on the agreed day. If you drift to the 4th, then the 7th, then the 11th, you've handed them a reason and they will use it.
- Never pay more than a month ahead unless the agreement says in writing what happens to that money if you leave early.
One more thing while you're at it: get your name on something at that address. A utility account, a bank statement, an electoral roll entry, anything official that arrives in the post. Proof of residence is useful for everything from a lockout dispute to renewing a driving licence, and it costs nothing to set up in your first week.
How do I protect a deposit I paid to my roommate instead of the landlord?
Write down the amount, who holds it, what can be deducted from it, and the exact deadline for return, before you transfer a penny. Deposits paid to a leaseholder vanish more often than any other money in this arrangement, for the simple reason that the person holding it usually spent it months ago.
The standard version: you paid 900, described vaguely as "a deposit, same as the rent." You move out in September. They say "I'll sort you out when the landlord gives mine back," or "the carpet in your room is wrecked." Their deposit is with the landlord, it's tied to the condition of the whole flat, and it gets returned some weeks after the entire tenancy ends, which could be eighteen months after you left. Your money is now hostage to a timeline you have no control over and a carpet you may never have walked on in shoes.
Asking "what exactly gets it back?" feels like announcing you plan to break something. It isn't. It's the same question the leaseholder asked their own landlord, and nobody found that offensive.
What the agreement should say:
- Amount, date paid, held by whom.
- Returned within 14 days of the day you hand back keys, independent of when the landlord returns the leaseholder's deposit. Use those words. This single clause is the difference between getting your money in October and chasing it next year.
- Deductions only for damage beyond normal wear that you caused, itemised in writing with photos, plus any unpaid rent.
- You are not liable for the condition of the property before you moved in.
Then take dated photos of your room, the bathroom and the kitchen on day one, including the existing scuffs and the burn mark on the worktop, and email them to the leaseholder that evening. Now the record is shared and timestamped, and neither of you can invent a version of it later.
Where a statutory deposit scheme exists, check whether it reaches you. California Civil Code § 1950.5 requires a landlord to provide an itemised statement and return the balance within 21 days, and in England and Wales assured shorthold tenancy deposits must be protected in a government-approved scheme. Whether either applies to money you handed a fellow tenant turns on whether you count as their subtenant, which is exactly the thing a written agreement helps establish.
Getting the other person to actually commit to a number and a deadline is the hard part, especially when they'd prefer to keep it vague. A structured tool like Servanda walks you both through the same questions and produces something you've each signed, which holds up considerably better than a text thread ending in "yeah sounds good."
What if they tell me to move out next week?
Without an agreed notice period, "next week" may well be lawful where you live. Agree 30 days in writing, running in both directions, and agree now what happens to your belongings, because that conversation is impossible to have on a doorstep with a bin bag in your hand.
Say the leaseholder's relationship ends and their partner is moving into the second bedroom. Or they take a job three hundred miles away and give the landlord their 30 days. Their tenancy ends, so your arrangement ends with it, and you find out when they tell you, which might be twelve days before the van arrives. Nothing about that is malicious. It's just what happens when one person's housing sits entirely inside another person's contract.
Four clauses fix the whole category:
- Thirty days' written notice either way. Text or email counts as written. Notice runs from the day it's sent, not the day it's discussed.
- The 48-hour rule. If the leaseholder gives notice to the landlord, or receives notice from them, they tell you within 48 hours. People forget this one constantly and it's the clause that buys you a month of searching instead of a week of panic.
- A consequence. "If the leaseholder requires the occupant to leave on fewer than 30 days' notice, the leaseholder refunds the unused rent pro rata plus £400 toward moving costs." A notice period with no number attached is a suggestion. A notice period with a number attached is a decision.
- A collection window. "The occupant has 14 days from the end date to collect their belongings. The leaseholder will not dispose of, sell or move any items into storage during that period without written agreement."
Then do the furniture list while you still like each other. Who owns the sofa, the TV, the dining table, the good chef's knife. Photograph the room contents on day one. For anything you buy together, agree the rule up front: whoever keeps it pays the other half the original purchase price, and if neither wants it, you sell it and split the proceeds, settled within 14 days of move-out. That takes ten minutes in month one and prevents an argument about a £180 air fryer that costs you both a friendship.
And know where you stand on locks. In most US jurisdictions, changing the locks on someone who has been living there and paying rent is an illegal self-help eviction even with no lease in their name, and New York City's 30-day occupancy rule is the sharpest example of it. Police response to a lockout call is inconsistent everywhere, which is precisely why the paperwork matters: a signed agreement plus fourteen bank transfers labelled with the address is what turns "she's just a guest" into "she lives here." Keep your passport, laptop and documents in one bag you could grab in thirty seconds, put the collection window in writing, and take the photos this weekend, while both of you can still laugh about how careful you're being.