Wrecked Roommates Series Novels & Stories

Overestimating yourself is a fatal mistake. But underestimating your enemy? That is a guaranteed death sentence. Room 205 is a total disaster zone. I stand in the middle of the ruined living room, breathing in the smell of dust and fear. The expensive, fluffy white carpet is stained with dark red spots. Smashed designer furniture is scattered everywhere. And lying on the floor, groaning in pain, are six incredibly rich, incredibly bruised teenagers.

The mattress is torn and covered in stains and the frame is broken. "Grab the mattress and throw it against the door," I say, grabbing a part of the broken frame. "Why," the package asks, "What are you doing?" "Building a bridge," I reply, pushing one of the sides of the frame so it's standing. I stomp and break off all the beams. "Come on," Rebecca says, "Help me with this." Rebecca and the package lift the mattress up together, they place it on the desk. It does almost nothing to stop the infected. Meanwhile, I grab another side of the frame and once more, stomp and break off all the beams.

Just the real, unfiltered moments he knew by heart: - Three roommates sprawled on a sagging couch, passing a single bowl back and forth, laughing so hard one of them snorts broth - A student asleep at a library carrel, cheek smushed against an open laptop, a half-eaten bag of chips cradled like a teddy bear - Someone in sweatpants on the floor of a dorm, back against the bed, scrolling their phone while empty takeout containers form a fortress around them He rebuilt the deck from scratch. Rough, honest, human.

Rival Roommates Sunlight cut through the cheap hotel curtains and hit the wrecked bed. The room smelled like dried cum, sweat, and sex that had gone on for hours. My ass was sore as hell, puffy and leaking Ethan’s loads every time I shifted. My thighs had bite marks, my neck had hickeys, and my cock felt raw from how many times he had jerked and sucked it. Ethan lay beside me on his stomach, one arm thrown over my waist, his own back covered in scratch marks from my nails.

When the team gathered around, Coach turned to them with a sigh. “Bad news, boys. Booking error on our end. We’re short a few rooms. Most of you are doubled up as planned, but…” He glanced at Liam and Raphael. “You two only have one room left. King bed. Deal with it like captains. We’ll sort it out after the game.” Liam’s stomach dropped. A king bed. One room. With Raphael. Raphael just shrugged, looking far too calm. “We’ll manage.” Liam didn’t trust himself to speak. He grabbed his key card and headed to the elevator without another word.

An issue with me was that, well – I couldn’t sleep without it. After scanning my room once more I felt a pang of sadness. Damn, I was a hoarder. Photos were scattered all over the place, my walls covered with them along with notes and momentous. It was insane. Clothes were spilling out of my closet, my mirror a note written on it from Serena reminding me to wear protection SHOULD I bring a guy home. Idiot… Coffee mugs were strewn on my desk, study notes and textbooks all over that corner of my room. I was going to miss the hell out of this place. I was going to miss my crazy roommate and my crazy lecturers. My crazy ballistic party-mad roommate.

"Damn it Toma, we're going to miss the first day urgh…" I closed my eyes, avoiding any light that shines on my face. Toma who was at the lower part of this bunk bed started throwing up at the bucket beside his bed. "Bwaargh…! Ugh, s-sorry." He said, sounding so weak. "You said just a drink or two, but we both ended up with five bottles." "Uuugh, I said I'm sorry."

He watched their men carry three Omegas who couldn't walk down and out of the packhouse. Grayson and Maverick growled as they walked up the final flight of stairs. To the left were only four doors, which they discovered were occupied by warriors, but the rooms to the right weren't. Coal froze and stared down the hall at the large, red door, knowing exactly what it was. The room that traumatized his brother, Ollie. The room that changed him. “Before we leave, we're destroying that room,” Coal growled, and Maverick nodded.

“Hello, Mellissa. How can I be of help?” Mellissa had run crying to the office yesterday to complain about the poor condition of the room she was staying at the pack house. She said it was full of cockroaches, ants, and rats. I knew it was a lie, but that wasn’t possible. The Packhouse was one of the cleanliest spots in the pack so I sent some warriors to check her room and when they came back to inform me that it was true, it didn’t make sense. How was that possible? Why was her room the only pest-infested room while others were good? She asked to stay in my place till they clean up her room. I wanted to say no but I didn’t.

She couldn’t bring herself to ask. So when she hung up the phone, the shattered home she was in felt worse. Everywhere she looked, she could see her failure. The pieces of glass that still sparkled in the kitchen that missed the garbage can from the dust bin, the crumpled clothes in the guest room, and the way two sets of keys just sat abandoned on the counter, now. Both Jackson’s and Randy’s. Her love life had been nothing but a wreck. To love someone with everything you have, and be loved in return…what did that entail?