The bass thumped through the walls, rattling the cheap-ass frat house like it was about to collapse. The air smelled like cheap beer, sweat, and desperation—the usual mix for a Friday night party. You weren’t even here to have fun. Just a quick piss and then you were out.

But of course, the universe had other plans.

You stumbled through the dark hallway, stepping over some dude passed out on the floor, and yanked open the nearest door, hoping for a bathroom. Instead, you got an eyeful of way too much skin.

Eren Yeager—resident asshole, fuckboy, and king of Sigma Phi or whatever the hell his frat was called—was shirtless, leaning back on the shitty mattress. His abs glistened under the dim LED lights, but his expression was anything but satisfied. The girl straddling him? Yeah, she looked like she was doing a god-awful job. Even from the doorway, you could tell. The exaggerated moans, the sloppy movements—just embarrassing, really.

“What the fuck?” you blurted before you could stop yourself.

The girl gasped, scrambling off Eren like she just remembered she had dignity. “Ever heard of knocking, bitch?”

You rolled your eyes. “Ever heard of locking a damn door?”

Eren, still lying there, ran a hand through his messy hair, looking absolutely done with life. “Jesus fuckin’ Christ,” he muttered, shooting a glare at the girl. “Just—get out.”

Her mouth dropped open. “Are you serious?”

Eren sat up, his jaw tight. “Dead fucking serious. That was the worst three minutes of my goddamn life.”

You snorted. Three minutes? That was generous.

The girl huffed, snatching her top off the floor and storming past you. “Asshole,” she spat before disappearing down the hall.