The Girl Steve Harrington Chose
The most popular boy at school, Steve Harrington Mets his younger best friend’s older sister Y/n Henderson.
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IMizziebee35IM
Izzie McCullen
Stories
He shoots, She scores
Suite 3B is a mistake, and you know it the second you walk in and see Anderson Blake leaning against the kitchen counter like he owns not just the apartment, but the entire campus. Three bedrooms. One for you. One for the university’s basketball captain. One for his best friend, Eli Vega. Eli is warmth from the start—easy smile, steady presence, the kind of guy who carries your boxes without making it weird and remembers your major after hearing it once. Anderson is the opposite. Controlled. Sharp-edged. Quiet in a way that feels intentional. He doesn’t insult you outright, doesn’t raise his voice, doesn’t flirt like he does with every other girl on campus. He just acts like you’re irrelevant, and somehow that’s worse. What he doesn’t expect is that you’re not just a random roommate—you’re the team’s head statistician, the one running live numbers courtside, breaking down film, calculating efficiency ratings, tracking shot selection percentages in real time. You’re not decoration. You’re strategy. And you know his numbers better than he does. The first time you correct him in a team meeting—calmly pointing out that he’s shooting 32% from the left corner under pressure and maybe he should stop forcing it—the room goes dead silent. He stares at you, jaw tight, and asks if you’re done. You tell him statistically, not even close. From that moment on, it’s war. He dismisses your suggestions publicly and then secretly adjusts his plays based on them. You call out his rushed fourth-quarter decisions; he tells you to stay in your lane. You undermine each other in small, precise ways that only the two of you understand. Meanwhile, he brings girls home constantly. Late-night laughter, heels down the hallway, his bedroom door shutting with deliberate finality. They never stay the night. They never eat breakfast. They’re never introduced. It’s transactional, quick, surface-level. And he never lets them exist in the common areas when you’re around. It’s like there’s an unspoken rule that they don’t get to share space with you. You tell yourself it doesn’t bother you, but you start checking the clock when you hear doors open. You start staying later in the gym so you don’t have to hear it. One night, fed up, you ask him if he’s ever tried actually liking one of them. He shrugs and says that’s not really their purpose, and it’s cold enough to sting—but his jaw ticks when you walk away. The enemies phase stretches on for weeks, maybe half the season. Heated film sessions. Snide comments in meetings. Tension thick enough that even the coaching staff feels it. Eli sees everything—the way Anderson’s stats dip the week you stop sitting in the living room, the way his eyes track you when you laugh at something another guy says, the way he goes unnaturally quiet when someone from the analytics department walks you home. Mid-season, high-stakes game, scouts in the crowd. You warn Anderson before tip-off that his shooting percentage plummets when he rushes in the fourth quarter. He tells you to stay in your lane. Fourth quarter comes. He rushes. He misses. They lose. The locker room is ice. That night he doesn’t bring anyone home. He storms into the apartment, finds you at the kitchen table finishing the official score sheet, and tells you flatly that you were right. You don’t look up when you answer that you know. Something cracks then—not soft, not romantic, just exposed. The truth is, he isn’t mean because he doesn’t care. He’s mean because you see him too clearly. You see the pressure from scouts, the expectations, the way he clenches his jaw when he thinks no one’s watching. You see that he hides behind arrogance the way you hide behind numbers. And if you see him clearly and still choose him, that’s a kind of vulnerability he doesn’t know how to survive. So he keeps things shallow. Keeps girls temporary. Keeps you at arm’s length. Except he memorizes your class schedule. He fixes your laptop before a big presentation without saying a word. He makes sure the bathroom’s free when you have early exams. He almost knocks on your door most nights and never does. The arguments get personal. You accuse him of acting like you’re nothing and then glaring when you talk to someone else. He accuses you of analyzing him like he’s a spreadsheet. You tell him he basically is one. He fires back that you hide behind numbers so you don’t have to admit anything real. Silence follows, heavy and dangerous. And one night after a brutal away loss, the gym nearly empty while you finish inputting stats, he steps close enough that you can feel the tension humming between you and says quietly, like it costs him something, that you don’t hate him. You meet his eyes and admit you’re trying to.
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IMizziebee35The hunger games 
You’re President Snows only daughter. Who doesn’t like her father’s deeds. She wishes she could help in the current rebellion. She obviously loves her father but she doesn’t want him to win. She’s quietly rooting for Katniss Everdeen and squad 451.
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IMizziebee35The Off Limits Rule
Y/N moves in with her older brother Logan Brenning for her senior year after things at home change, expecting it to be simple and temporary. What she doesn’t expect is that Logan lives in the most infamous house in town, a place that seems permanently filled with music, people, and late-night parties because it’s shared by him and three of his basketball teammates. The biggest problem in the house is Dylan Cross, the team captain and Logan’s best friend—the one person Logan trusts the most and the one person he warns Y/N about the second she arrives. Dylan Cross is completely off limits. Logan makes the rule painfully clear. Everyone knows Dylan’s reputation: confident, reckless, charming in a way that gets him whatever he wants, and far too good at pretending he’s innocent when he’s not. At first Dylan barely reacts to her moving in, acting relaxed and almost uninterested, but the second Logan turns his back things change. Dylan suddenly appears everywhere—leaning against the counter when she walks into the kitchen, brushing past her in crowded hallways, standing just close enough that she can feel the heat of him when the house is full of people. His voice always drops when he talks to her, quiet enough that no one else hears what he says, and somehow every comment leaves her completely flustered while Dylan looks perfectly calm seconds later when Logan glances over. The worst part is the way he does it so casually, like it’s a game only the two of them know they’re playing. Logan will be in the room talking while Dylan is right behind her chair, murmuring something that makes her lose her train of thought, and when Logan notices her suddenly quiet and asks what’s wrong, Dylan is already stepping back with that easy grin, acting like he has no idea why she looks so flustered. Living in the same house makes avoiding him impossible. Late nights after parties mean running into him when the rest of the house is asleep, and somehow those moments always turn into tense conversations where Dylan watches her a little too closely and steps a little too near, like he’s testing exactly how far he can push things before she snaps. Noah Walker, the nicest roommate, quickly becomes someone Y/N trusts, though even he starts catching the strange tension between her and Dylan and quietly warning Dylan not to cause problems with Logan. Jace Miller, on the other hand, finds the entire situation hilarious and constantly makes things worse by pointing out every look and every moment of tension he notices. Then there’s Brielle Hayes, popular and beautiful and someone everyone assumed Dylan would eventually end up with, who suddenly starts showing up at the house more often and clearly doesn’t like the way Dylan’s attention keeps drifting toward the girl who lives there now. The longer Y/N stays, the harder it becomes to ignore the charged atmosphere between her and Dylan, especially when he keeps acting like he’s the only one who sees how much the tension is affecting her while pretending nothing is happening whenever Logan is around. Every conversation feels like it’s balancing on the edge of something dangerous, every glance lasts a second too long, and every small moment carries the risk of Logan noticing and everything exploding. Because if Logan ever realizes what’s actually happening between his sister and his best friend, it won’t just break the one rule he made the moment she moved in—it might destroy the friendships holding the entire house together. And the scariest part for Y/N is that the more Dylan pushes those boundaries, the more it feels like neither of them is trying very hard to stop.
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IMizziebee35Benched with You
At Briar Ridge University, basketball is everything. Packed student sections, sold-out jerseys, cameras at every game. And at the center of it all is him — the team’s star guard and campus golden boy. Jace Bennett. He’s the one everyone chants for, the one reporters follow after games, the one who plays like the court belongs to him. He’s disciplined when it comes to basketball and completely unbearable when it comes to everything else. Confident to the point of arrogance, stubborn to the point of self-destruction, and very aware that he’s the best player on the roster. He hates being told what to do. Which is unfortunate, because your entire job revolves around telling him exactly that.
đź’¬ 1.6k
IMizziebee35