[asteriismos]

𝐧𝐚𝐯𝐢𝐠𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧

⊱ ────── {.⋅ ✯ ⋅.} ────── ⊰

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･ — eleanor. twenty two. she/her. professional yearner. chemistry connoisseur. shamed by years of generational guilt. eldest daughter. collector of red flags. full time hater.

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･ — my requests are open ! mostly writing for the pitt rn <3

my ko-fi ! my ao3 !

⊱ ────── {.⋅ ✯ ⋅.} ────── ⊰

[invrtedspear]

━━⠀⠀TEMPORARY CHEMISTRY ; e. yeager (chapter five)

modern!eren yeager x fem!reader

summary: you have a crush on jean kirstein and your friend eren yeager has a solution: fake date him to make jean jealous enough to notice you. unfortunately, eren is very good at pretending to be your boyfriend.

words: 5.8k

part: 5/? (pt 1) (pt 2) (pt 3) (pt 4)

content warning(s): modern au, college au, frat boy eren, mentions of drinking and doing recreational drugs. mentions of sex. eventual smut. no so slowburn. friends to lovers. porn with some plot. minors dni.

chapter specific warning(s): alcohol, slight jean/reader, oral sex (fem receiving), exhibition :p, slightly dubious consent, dirty talk, making out & kissing.

author's note: enjoy! this chapter is lowkey long because well . . . idk just read it.

Bodies moved shoulder-to-shoulder with the music loud enough to rattle your brain, flashing lights shining from the high ceiling. The line to get inside was practically wrapped around the block, leaving you standing in your black heels for forty minutes with Jean’s coat around your shoulders before you made it to the door. 

You stood with him near the bar with a drink, trying not to look incredibly nervous every time that you made eye contact with Jean, his hand placed firmly around your waist. He leaned over the counter to grab two drinks from the very busy bartender. And damn it all, he looked good. He wore a dark button-up shirt that was rolled up to his elbows, hair styled and topped off with a watch around his wrist that definitely cost more than your rent. You always knew that Jean had a good childhood, but you weren’t aware how good it had been. 

“I didn’t realize it would be this busy,” he said in a low tone, leaning so close to you that you could smell his cologne. He gave you a smile, handing you your next drink, it was the easy kind of smile that you had spent months hoping he would give you someday. “Let’s go get a table.” 

He ushered you to one of the tables near the back of the club, farther away from the dense crowd so that you could actually hear yourself think. It was elevated from the dance floor, giving you a view of the moving bodies below illuminated by the flashing lights of purple and red. Jean moved to sit next to you in the booth, and you sighed for the relief from standing in heels. You watched him move, thinking that this was exactly what you wanted. This was the entire reason that you had agreed to Eren’s ridiculous plan in the first place. 

You cringed internally when you thought about Eren. Ever since that night he hadn’t texted you as normally as he had before. He hadn’t stopped texting entirely, that would’ve been easy if it had been that way. The texts were shorter and less frequent. He didn’t send the endless strings of triple and quadruple texts that he’d send when a thought would cross his mind. He didn’t send you random pictures or complaints about guys in Acacia. It was like he was testing the waters, which was the exact opposite of the Eren Yeager that you knew. 

Something had changed and you didn’t know what. It’s not like he remembered what happened anyway. It was like he regretted this whole elaborate plan or he had found a girl that infatuated him more than being a fake boyfriend. You wouldn’t put it past him. 

Conversation flowed easily in Jean. Awkwardness didn’t even exist between the two of you, every single topic led into another and nearly an hour had passed with the two of you sitting. Jean was nice, he was funny, and he was so attentive of you that you felt like you gave your entire life story to him without even noticing. 

Jean Kirstein was different from the version you had built in your head, but it was a good different. He was halfway into telling this story about how Connie gaslit Sasha into thinking that there were secret tunnels underneath campus. 

“ . . . she was so convinced that she even went to the place he said the entrance was at. He never let that down.” 

You laughed so hard that you almost had to spit some of your drink out. “No, there’s no way that actually happened.” 

“It did!” 

Jean placed his hand over his chest. “I swear on my life that it’s real.” 

Around your table, the club continued with its usual noise. Sometimes a group of people would walk past the booth carrying a whole plat of shots, laughing loudly about things that probably didn’t matter. Somehow it felt quiet, separated, the two of you were occupied in your own little corner. 

“This is nice,” you said, looking right into his eyes. 

“Yeah?” 

He rested an arm on the back of the booth around your shoulders. “I’m really glad you came.” 

And the way that Jean looked at you now, you were glad too. Red light washed all over his face, merging with the blue light to cast purple. His attention didn’t falter the way it had before, making you acutely aware of the way the bass of the music pulsed beneath your feet. His hand shifted, a little bit closer to actually touching the skin of your shoulder, like he was giving you a way to pull away if you wanted. 

But you didn’t pull away, watching the way that his eyes casted down to your mouth for just a moment then back up. His expression seemed to soften when he realized that you were watching him, and surprisingly, he didn’t shy away. 

“Can I kiss you?” 

It was honest and simple. He actually asked. There were no games or any assumptions, he cared enough to ask and that made your heart swell. For a moment you just stared at him, watching the brightness in his eyes, the anticipation making him swipe his tongue for just a moment on the top of his bottom lip. You nodded, a smile replacing his tentative face. 

Jean’s hand moved to cradle your jaw, leaning in and giving you a kiss that you hadn’t expected. It wasn’t rushed or messy like you were used to, his lips moved over yours in a way that was warm and intentional. His thumb brushed against your cheek, pulling you closer to him until your thigh was pressed against his own. Your hand raised, eventually making its way to the crook of his neck, shifting your head up to account for the height difference. 

He pulled away, lips parting while he leaned his forehead against your own. The look he gave you, like you were the only thing in the entire room, made your body feel like water in his hands. Jean gave you a smile, soft and real, unlike the way that anyone had ever smiled at you before except for . . . 

“Do you want to go dance?” You asked in a low murmur. 

Jean’s thumb brushed against your cheek again, giving you a nod. He looked entirely too pleased with himself, reaching over to take the last few swigs of his drink then extending a hand your way, which you took gladly. 

You both made your way back down to the dance floor, once again packed between the bodies of others, though you didn’t mind as much now as Jean pressed himself closer to you in order to shield you from the bumps of a few drunken idiots. His hand stayed on your lower back, eventually finding a good place to stand, grabbing you so that you were chest to chest with him, gentle and protective. Every now and then, he would lean down to stay something in your ear, lips impossibly close to the spot between your ear and hairline, kissing it a few times for good measure. 

The attention he gave you should have made you melt while you tilted your head to the side, glancing and drifting your eyes over the crowd of people without necessarily having any real destination. Someone was screaming the lyrics to the song playing, but it didn’t matter how loud it was. You felt safe with him, your arms coming up around his neck as you swayed your hips. 

You turned again, feeling the familiar effects of alcohol beginning to sway your mind in different places. One of the many bar tables caught your eye, seeing some woman throw money practically in the face of the bartender, cringing at the secondhand embarrassment. Careening your gaze, that’s when you saw familiar blonde hair. 

Armin. 

Confusion was the first thing that came to your mind, Armin was the last person that you would expect to be here. He looked uncomfortable, which you would have expected even if you had your eyes closed. Armin held three drinks in his hands, splaying his fingers out to accommodate all of them to not spill. His shoulders were hunched over, like he was trying to make himself invisible to everyone else except the bartender who was passing his card back over to him. 

You could see him apologize to a couple who bumped into him, even though it wasn’t his fault. The sight made you laugh, shaking your head for a moment. 

Then, your eyes widened. 

Armin hated clubs. He always talked about how he would rather spend his time in a three hour written test than step foot into some place like this or lock himself in a library for a whole night to get out of it. 

There was only reason that he would voluntarily be here. 

There was only one person who could convince him, anyway. 

If he was there then that meant that — 

Your eyes left Armin and drifted into the crowd, searching for someone you already knew was somewhere. The flashing red and blue lights made it hard to make out faces, and it didn’t help that bodies were moving in every single direction, hands and arms flying, the sound of drinks slamming on the floor. Your attention momentarily stalled on Armin again when you couldn’t find what you were looking for, now walking back from the bar into another direction that you followed. Soon enough, you saw him. 

You felt as if you had been smacked in the face. 

Eren stood near the edge of the crowd, his arms wrapped tightly around a blonde girl that you didn’t recognize. Her hand was pressed against his chest, standing on her tippy toes to say something in his ear. You saw Eren grin, leaning down and pressing his lips against the column of her throat, you could practically see his tongue lick a long stripe against the skin of her neck. She giggled, capturing his lips in a searing kiss. 

You felt sick. 

He looked so effortless with her. She was the type of girl that he typically surrounded himself with. The sight really shouldn’t surprise you. This was Eren. This is exactly the type of thing that you had seen him do a dozen times before. You spent years watching him, commenting on how ridiculous he was to Mikasa, disappearing with girls at parties. Years hearing stories about whoever he was talking to this week. Ever since you two have been in high school he was like this. 

The blonde pulled away from him, wrapping her arms around his neck, dancing to the song, practically grinding on him. His hands travelled up and down her sides, like he had done it hundreds of times before. 

He probably had. 

The music in the club kept going, so did the bodies dancing and so did the conversations. Except they began to blur until your mind felt empty, entirely focused on Eren, like your body could only be focused on him as a focal point. You couldn’t stop watching him, even while he was with this girl, watching them with what? Jealousy? You had no reason to feel this way. None of the things that went on between the two of you was real. It was all fake. Jean? Jean was real. Jean was real and he was standing right in front of you, holding you, dancing with you. Jean had kissed you, just like you always wanted. 

Yet for some reason, your eyes were glued to Eren. 

The distance couldn’t have been more than thirty, maybe forty feet. Yet it felt like you were a million miles away. The lights flashed across his face. Red. Darkness. Blue. Darkness. It mixed with purple before repeating the pattern, his head tilting to hear whatever the blonde was saying. He almost looked . . . annoyed. If you didn’t know him as much as you did, you wouldn’t have been able to notice. But you had been friends with Eren for years, you had learned how to read him. 

Eren leaned back down and kissed her, like he was trying to get her to shut up. You saw the way that his tongue practically flew to her mouth, but his attention wasn’t fully on her. His eyes opened, giving a look to Armin who still looked very uncomfortable talking to some girl next to him, sipping on his drink. 

You looked away for a moment, to glance back at Jean who was none the wiser to what was going on. And when you turned your attention back to Eren — he was staring right back at you. 

The blonde was still pressed against him, her arms around his neck as she bounced to the music. Yet Eren wasn’t looking at her, he was looking at you. It wasn’t casually, the way that a friend would acknowledge another friend, really looking at you. People still danced, lights flashed over both of your faces, and you wanted to look away, you really did. But you couldn’t not when Eren’s annoyingly green eyes hadn’t left yours for a second, ignoring the pounding of the music over the speakers. 

It felt like a century had happened within that moment. A whole lifetime in just a single gaze. A gaze that you couldn’t come up with the words to describe. 

“Hey.” 

Jean’s voice was what finally broke eye contact, making you look up at him as you tried to act like everything was normal. His hair was disheveled from dancing, flush on his cheeks from the alcohol. Guilt riddled your body, realizing that you weren’t even thinking about him while being in his arms. 

It was too hot. You couldn’t think. 

“I’m going to go get some air,” you said, pulling back just a bit. 

Jean gave a look. “You okay? Do you want me to come with you?” 

His concern only made you feel worse. 

“Yeah, I’m good.” 

As if something in the universe was in your favor for something, you heard the familiar voice of Reiner behind you, yelling towards Jean. Good, he would be entertained while you could slip away for a couple minutes. Or thirty. Or however long it took for you to put yourself back together. You pulled away from Jean, giving an apologetic squeeze to his forearm. Then you began the task of weaving through the people on the dance floor, slipping between bodies while you tried not to think about stumbling over your own feet. 

Someone stepped on your foot and apologized, you didn’t even care. You needed to get out of this crowd. Everything pounding around you along with the lights flashing made it feel like a bad dream you were trying to escape. You went past the bar, past a cluster of girls taking shots, even past Armin, who didn’t see you while he stared into his drink. 

What was wrong with you? What the hell was wrong with you? You were on a date with Jean and somehow Eren had managed to ruin it. Though, Eren hadn’t done anything. He had just looked at you. It was entirely your head that created this moment where you could barely breathe. Your chest felt like you had been stabbed. 

Your feet took you into one of the less populated hallways, a balcony greeted you at the end of it, where you leaned over the rails and tried to slow your breathing. 

A minute passed and then you heard your name being called. 

Maybe if you didn’t look it wouldn’t be real. 

“Hey.” You heard a scuffle and the sound of a shove somewhere behind you. “Hey, what the fuck asshole, watch where you’re going, Jesus Christ.” 

Eren. 

You kept your gaze toward the skyline. You could hear his footsteps get closer to you. “Go away, Eren.” 

“Are you okay?”

You turned then, leaning your back on the railing to keep some semblance of space between the two of you. “I said go away, Eren.” 

The worst thing is that you meant it, and he knew you did. Eren spent enough time learning you as you did him throughout all the years. “You never meant that before,” he said, almost like he was hurt a bit, masked by his fleeting attempt to be confident. You hadn’t ever wanted him gone, no matter how many times the two of you got into arguments or fought, which happened a lot when you were younger but less now. 

“Well, there’s a first time for everything,” you said back to him. 

You moved to push past him, deciding that you would rather feel suffocated by the hot club than be anywhere near him right now. Eren’s arm shot out, grabbing onto the top of your arm, holding you there and looking to the side. “Why are you acting like this right now?” He asked, obviously beginning to get angry himself. 

You wiggled out of his grasp, starting to walk faster inside. It seemed like he had no intention of letting you get away, following you back inside the hallway. There wasn’t enough distance between the balcony and the hallway to lose him, you could still hear his footsteps behind you. The music started to grow louder while you moved closer to the noise, the familiar feeling of the bass vibrating through your heels from the floor. 

“Will you just fucking slow down!” Eren said. 

You didn’t even look back, a laugh leaving your mouth. “Eren, I’m so fucking serious right now.” 

You grabbed the nearest handle that you could find, stepping inside to one of the single use bathrooms. It was small, but it would be fine for you to stand and try to compose yourself again. There was a vanity in one of the walls for the sink, a mini white tiled floor that surprisingly shined despite it being a club bathroom. Turning to reach for the door to lock it, you realized that your hand was shaking. 

That momentary pause was enough for the door to be pushed open and Eren rushed in, the door closed behind him and he stood in front of the handle so you couldn’t leave. You saw his hand behind his back to lock the door, effectively leaving both of you in the cramped bathroom. 

“Seriously?” You asked him, your eyes squinting. “What the hell is wrong with you!”

Eren genuinely looked pissed, running a hand through his hair, half of it basically falling out of the bun. “What’s wrong with me?” He spat back. His cheeks were red, a flush that seemed to envelop his entire top half, or as much as you could see. He sported a black tank top, one that was cut low enough that you could see the key tattoo that he had gotten the second he turned eighteen. You still remember sitting in the seat next to Mikasa while he got it to keep him company. 

“Are you serious right now? Who the fuck bursts into a bathroom?” You countered. 

“You’ve been acting insane!” 

You gave him a look of disbelief, anger rising to your chest. “Oh, I’m the one acting insane?” 

“Yes!” 

“You were having a wonderful time shoving your tongue down that girl's throat, maybe you should let me out and get back to doing that,” You spat. 

Eren stared at you, like he couldn’t believe what he’d just heard. “Seriously?” 

You crossed your arms in front of your chest, ignoring the way that you could feel your heart hammering through the top you wore that you only put on when you went out. “What?” 

“That’s what you’re upset about?” 

You felt exposed. “No!” 

“Then why are you standing here like I committed a crime?” 

“Oh, I’m so sorry,” you said, throwing your hands up in the air dramatically. “I forgot Eren Yeager is allowed to do whatever the fuck he wants at any time. The Acacia president who is so untouchable nobody is able to talk down or question anything that he does.” 

Eren stared at you, laughing, actually laughing through his anger. You could practically see him shaking, eyes rolling from agitation. “Are you hearing yourself right now, you sound crazy!” 

“Are you? You spent weeks telling me to go after Jean, practically shoving me at him, telling me to text him, and then you get angry and follow me the second you see him with his arms around my waist on the dance floor?” 

His jaw tensed, you could practically see the pulse point of his neck bouncing up and down. “That’s not what —” 

“Not what, Eren? Seriously, you’re so aggravating! You’ve been acting weird ever since —”  You paused, realizing you were about to talk about that night at the party. 

“Ever since what?” He asked, stepping closer to you, charged air between the two of your bodies. 

“We are not doing this right now, can I go? You’re going to make me burst an aneurism or something,” you said, trying to deflect. 

“You know what your problem is?” 

“Oh yes, just what I wanted, to hear what my problem is from you.” 

Eren didn’t pause. “You finally got your little date with Jean and you can’t stop looking at me. A little counter intuitive don’t you think? Since you wanted to be with him so badly.” 

“Oh fuck you, Eren.” You reached around him for the door lock. 

“Just admit that you’re jealous of the girl I was with and then you can leave.” 

You stopped dead in your movement. 

He continued. “You looked like you wanted to kill her and I didn’t even know her name” 

“Oh really, that’s your argument?” You looked up at him then, realizing just how close you were. If you took even an inch of a step, you would collide into him. You could see every single detail of his face when he looked down at you. All the things that you had silently noticed about him throughout the years. The small scar that was beneath his eye, healed over a shade of white, the flush of his cheeks from alcohol. His green eyes, which somehow looked brighter despite the low light of the bathroom, looked right through you. 

His voice, lower now, said, “So tell me I’m wrong.” 

You paused, licking your lips without even thinking about it, though maybe you did absentmindedly because you glanced at his own. “You’re wrong.” 

Eren gave a smile, an almost evil smile. 

“See, the thing is, I don’t believe you.” 

His hand came up, grasping your neck to pull you up to a kiss. It wasn’t a nice one, it wasn’t the same lustful way that he had kissed you before. It almost hurt, it was angry. You knew it would bruise, but you couldn’t find it in yourself to care. Eren kept you there, hand around your throat, squeezing not enough to constrict air, but enough to keep you anchored to him. Your hand reached for his waist, but his other beat you there, grabbing your hand and pushing you backward, feeling the cool surface of the vanity against the top of your thighs. 

And he kept pushing you farther back, his hands moving down to your thighs, hoisting you up onto the surface. You instinctively opened your legs, allowing him to slot in between them, invading your space. His mouth moved over yours a second longer, before he pulled away, giving you a glance before busying himself by kissing down your neck. It wasn’t like the way he did with that girl out in the club, he put his time into it, licking and biting until your head felt dizzy. It wasn’t from the alcohol, it was from him, the messy and sloppy entirety of him. 

“Eren,” you breathed, eyes closing and feeling your mind think back to that night at the party, how laid back he had been back then. Now he was hungry, finding that place against your pulse point and biting. You bit back a moan, which apparently he didn’t like, and he bit down again, fast enough to have the moan spill out of your mouth shamelessly. 

You felt him laugh. “That’s it,” he whispered against your skin.

You wanted to scream at him again, wanted to tell him that you still thought that he was an annoying asshole for cornering you. But the words died in your throat when his hands ran from your thighs to underneath your skirt. Eren knew exactly what he was doing, continuing his kiss down your neck before settling against your collarbone. One of his fingers grazed the elastic of your underwear near your inner thigh, obviously teasing you, slowing down his movements purposely. 

Your hand flew to his hair, pulling it up so he was forced to look at you, his lips red. “Don’t think you’re getting away with what you said,” you said to him, your voice wavering while his finger ran a firm line up your slit through your underwear. Your eyes widened, gripping his hair a little bit stronger this time. He laughed when he saw your reaction, which should’ve annoyed you, but it didn’t. “I’m serious, Eren. You make it really easy to hate you.” 

Eren’s eyes flickered down your body, noting the way your skin burned red, chest heaving up and down from how much he was affecting you. “Fine,” he said, making eye contact with you again. “Hate me then.” 

He dropped down to his knees, and thanks to his height, he was eye level with your spread legs. Eren got to work right away, pressing a deep kiss to your inner thigh, making you use one hand to grip against the vanity, knuckles burning white. The other stayed in his hair, conflicted between pushing him away or pulling it forward. But Eren didn’t give you the time to choose, since he kissed your thighs again and again, pulling you closer to the edge of the counter until he was face to face with your clothed pussy. You could feel his breath through the thin fabric, and all thoughts about hating him seemed to subside. 

His fingers hooked around the waistband of your underwear, pulling them down your legs until you were bare before him. Eren’s hair fell forward, obscuring his eyes, but you could see the way he looked entirely too confident in himself. He looked as though he owned the space, owned the bathroom and you were shamelessly in, and most importantly, like he owned you. 

There was no word of warning. Eren leaned in and buried his face in between your legs. His tongue lashed out with a blunt but practiced hunger. Your first instinct from the feeling was to close your thighs from the sensitivity, but he kept them open by his hands gripping your thighs so intensely you thought that it would bruise in the morning. He wasn’t being gentle regardless of your experience, he was being thorough. 

It was a vulgar enthusiasm, the way his mouth worked against you, forcing a choked and desperate sound from your throat. You wanted to hate how much he knew exactly what he was doing, that he could get down on his knees and control you like this. But any thoughts about anything else other than the feeling he was giving you flew out of your mind. It was just too good. 

The sound of the club thumped through the wall of the bathroom, music easing through the door, but it was nothing compared to the wet and sticky sounds of Eren working between your legs. While one of his hands stayed anchored to your thigh, the other came in between your legs, spreading you out and he spat. You felt the liquid drip down you onto the vanity, which made your toes curl, the sound of one of your heels falling and clanking to the floor. 

His tongue traced the folds, pressing down in a way that made you see stairs. The hand in his hair pulled him closer, but he didn’t dare pull away from you, not when he was so content where he was. Eren was greedy, licking with vulgar intensity, paying attention to your clit and sucking it into his mouth. 

“Fuck fuck fuck,” you muttered, biting your lip and throwing your head back until it hit the mirror behind you. From this position you could watch him, and almost terrifyingly, he was watching you. His eyes stayed on your face, watching every single movement of your face, like he was memorizing it for later. And you were giving him a show, the way that your mouth stayed parted, your back arching and basically giving yourself over to him. You could tell that he liked the way you looked while you were being pulled apart, stripped of all that hatred you claimed you felt for him just a few moments before. 

Eren didn’t let up in his borderline attack on your pussy, tongue swirling against you in a greedy rhythm, prolonging the moment even though he knew that you were getting closer to your breaking point. It was the same feeling you had felt at the party for him, a coiling, bubbling feeling in your abdomen. You were shaking, breath coming in ragged and shallow hitches, watching him take his time, taking your desperation with his mouth. 

“Weren’t you just saying that you —” Lick. “— hated me?” He taunted against your skin, digging his nails in your thigh. “Can you even — Lick. “— think right now?” 

You didn’t even have it in you to say something back, legs opening wider as you felt yourself get closer and closer. He took the opportunity to dip his tongue down to your hole, pressing it inside of you and spreading your wetness all the way back up to your clit. With a deliberate flick of his tongue, he drove you to the brink, green eyes watching as you fell apart. 

He let out a low, guttural sound, watching your pupils blown wide and jaw going slack, whimpering his name over and over. Eren didn’t pull away to show you mercy, he leaned in and continued to press kisses to your pussy while you tremored, spitting again just to make a mess of you. Even as your breathing slowed into pathetic gasps, he stayed, tasting the salty sweetness of your orgasm. He gave one more slow, possessive lick that made you moan in exhaustion. 

Eren stayed there for a moment before pulling away to sit on his heels. His hand came to wipe the drops of moisture on his mouth and chin, lips glistening and hair a mess. His eyes burned with a look of triumph while he stood up, reaching to brush a damp stray of hair from your face behind your hair. 

You didn’t know what to say, feeling your thighs still tremble as you closed them, hopping off of the counter and using him to stay upright. Eren checked his watch, then looked into the mirror to make himself look a bit more presentable. 

“You should get back to horse face,” he said, so nonchalant. “Before he starts wondering where you are.” 

“Are you serious?” You asked, that annoyance from earlier making a reappearance. 

Eren turned to give you a grin, hands going down to pull your skirt back down. “Deathly serious. I’ve gotta get Armin out of here. He’s probably dead right now.” 

“You just did that and you’re talking about Armin?” 

“We’ll talk later,” Eren spoke. He gave your cheek a small tap, grabbing your hand to pull you out the door. “Besides, do you really want to talk in a club bathroom?” 

“I think we’ve pretty much defiled the bathroom at this point.” 

“We’re definitely not the first people to do that.” 

Ew.

“Wait, wait,” Eren said, turning back to look at you. You were about to ask him what he could possibly want now, but you were silenced by his lips against yours, tongue dipping into your mouth. Taunting you with the taste of your release still swirling in his mouth. Once he pulled away, he turned like nothing happened. “Good, right?” 

You didn’t have time to say anything before he opened the door. 

The music from the club greeted you once again, Eren’s hand leading you back to the main room. He leaned down to give you a goodbye, walking in the opposite direction where he had been earlier with Armin. You watched him leave, long enough to where you could barely see him above the crowd. Then your attention turned to wherever the hell Jean was, or rather, where you had left him with Reiner, and walked before stopping again. 

You felt . . . bare. Like you were missing something, but no, you had your skirt on, you had your shirt on. And yet . . .

Eren took your panties. Of course he did, he was trying his best to rattle you when you went back to Jean. You could just imagine him right now, smirking, trying to get Armin out of the crowd while he held your panties in his back pocket like some goddamn trophy.

“I’m going to fucking kill him,” you said out loud. 

A girl next to you obviously heard your exclamation. “Yes girl, go kill him!” The rest of her group hollered. They said a string of drunken man hating comments, then all sipped on their drinks when they really needed to drink water instead. 

At least a cluster of drunk girls were on your side. 

Eventually, you found your way back to Jean. He was talking to Reiner, joined by Connie and Sasha who seemingly showed up to the club while you were away. 

“Hey,” Jean said, hands reaching for you. “I was wondering where you were, did you get sick?” 

You gave a nod, not trusting your own voice. It was better for him to just think that instead of the alternative, and it gave you time to push down the guilt you felt for being with Eren. Jean smiled, wrapping his arm around you. Connie and Sasha gave you a nod, along with Reiner who unsurprisingly gave you a squeeze on your shoulder before throwing back the shot in his hand.

“Well, you really didn’t miss much. We were thinking about heading out soon anyway. I can walk you home?” Jean asked. 

“Sure, sounds good,” You said. 

Jean pressed a kiss to the top of your head, saying, “Good, just wanna make sure you get home safe.” His face stayed close, and his eyes looked down, pressing a kiss to your mouth. His tongue gave a tentative swipe around your mouth before pulling away, teasing you and looking oh so pleased with himself. In any other context, you would’ve welcomed any kiss from Jean. But this time . . . well, you felt like you were carrying the biggest secret of your life. 

You wondered if he could taste Eren, or even more embarrassing, your own release. 

Obviously not, because Jean was right back to talking to Reiner about football. Your phone buzzed in your bag, and you knew exactly who it was. Because who else would it be?

eren yeager: found armin! 

eren yeager: get home safe!

taglist: @jyn3s @ritzzberitzz @prettyfacefay @chosoluvv @starringrcll @wastedskullz @wgwingguns @glitterunicornstink12 @designherr

(sorry if i forgot anyone)

[invrtedspear]

━━⠀⠀TEMPORARY CHEMISTRY ; e. yeager (chapter one)

modern!eren yeager x fem!reader

summary: you have a crush on jean kirstein and your friend eren yeager has a solution: fake date him to make jean jealous enough to notice you. unfortunately, eren is very good at pretending to be your boyfriend.

words: 3.3k

part: 1/? (pt 2)

content warning(s): modern au, college au, frat boy eren, mentions of drinking and doing recreational drugs. mentions of sex. eventual smut. no so slowburn. friends to lovers. porn with some plot. minors dni.

author's note: this is the first chapter of a multi-chapter fanfiction that is crossposted on my ao3. hope you guys enjoy! my inbox is open for fic requests and headcanon requests, as well as just to chat.

The bass reverberated off of the walls strong enough that you could feel the vibrations through the soles of your shoes and into your bones. It shook the entirety of the large house in heavy rhythmic pulses, rattling the pictures of previous Acacia fraternity brothers and cheaply framed posters on the walls. There were red plastic cups abandoned on almost every single surface that you could see, except for the table in the middle of the room that was being used for beer pong. 

You were having a terrible time. 

Which was mostly because of one singular man — Jean Kirstein. 

“Are you seriously still staring at him?” Mikasa asked, her voice coming from right beside you where she leaned against the wall. It was dry and unimpressed, the same way that she acted every time you talked about Jean. Which, admittedly, was a lot these days. 

You tore your eyes away. “I’m literally not. I looked over there one time.” 

“Yeah maybe one time this minute.” 

You groaned and leaned harder against the wall, hiding the noise in your cup by taking another swig of whatever-the-hell drink Connie had handed to you the moment you entered the building. Your eyes drifted back to Jean, despite the fact that you knew Mikasa was scoffing beside you. He was standing near the living room archway, one hand curled around a beer bottle while a brunette girl was leaning a little bit too deeply into his side. She was laughing so hard at something that he said, obviously drunk, and obviously trying to sleep with him. He looked good tonight, wearing a black compression shirt beneath his fraternity jacket. 

You rolled your eyes, knocking your head against the wall behind you. “I just don’t fucking get it.” 

“What?” 

“He flirts with every single girl on campus except for me.” 

“Maybe you should take it as a compliment, it’s not like the girls he flirts with last very long.” 

Before you could say something back, there was a loud bang that came from the kitchen. The sound of a door slamming open made a few people turn, having heard it over the loud blasting music. At first there was no clear sign of who the person was who was making all this noise, but eventually you got the gist by the hollering of other frat guys that were near the kitchen. 

“MIKASAAAAAAAAA!” 

Your friend closed her eyes, as if she was preparing herself mentally and emotionally for who was behind the yelling. It was the way that she always acted when he was like this, or even when he wasn’t like this. That’s the tragic part about being stepsiblings with the frat president of Acacia, Mikasa would never know peace. 

A second later, Eren Yeager stumbled through the kitchen looking farther than just gone. He wore a dark green hoodie, which was slung halfway off of one shoulder that exposed his collarbone that too many girls on campus were obsessed with. His brown hair was messy, curling at the edges from sweat and suspiciously like water from the sprinklers in the lawn. From several feet away, you could already tell that he was drunk and high on top of it, pupils blown so wide that there was barely any green showing in his eyes. 

His eyes locked onto Mikasa with precision that you weren’t even sure should be possible with the state that he was in, and he was beginning to walk over despite the crowd making it harder to push past. “There you are,” he accused, pointing at her with his index finger. “I have been looking for you for like — well, for like forever.” 

“Did you stop to take a shower in the sprinklers while you were looking?” Mikasa asked in reply, earning a snicker from you. Eren blinked slowly, either not recognizing the taunting in her voice or just choosing to ignore it completely. 

He lifted one shoulder in a shrug. “Maybe. It’s hot outside.” 

“You look like a stray dog that someone dragged in here,” you pointed out, taking another swig of your drink. “You’re lucky there’s already a puddle on the floor or we’d have to blame you completely.” 

Despite your words, Eren grinned, lazy and crooked and entirely too confident. Unfortunately, you knew that it worked on people, constantly. Men and women alike all fell for it at one point or another. In fact, you had seen girls fold for him for less. One smile was all that it took for them to follow him upstairs, hand in hand and not coming back down until the later hours of the night. Everyone in your friend group called him a manwhore, and instead of getting pissy at the nickname, Eren Yeager seemed to wear it like a badge of honor. If there was anything that you could count on, it was that there were at least three girls in rotation at all times in his life, for whatever the occasion. 

It was almost aggravating how he was able to get what he wanted so easily when you were having trouble even trying to get Jean Kirstein to look at you for more than five seconds. 

“I can’t believe that my stepsister was able to drag you out of your pajamas for a party!” Eren shouted over the music, walking a step closer so that you could hear him. It was now that you could see his entire face, entirely focused on you as he teased. “Or is it so that you can . . . well whatever the hell it is you do when Jean is around.” 

Your eyes snapped over to Mikasa. “You told him?” 

Before your friend could open her mouth to answer, Eren was shaking his head, muttering a small string of ‘nonononono’ under his breath before he said,  “She didn’t have to say a fucking thing for me to notice it. Just because I’m an idiot doesn’t mean I’m also stupid.” His eyebrow quirked up, as if trying to decipher what just left his mouth made any sense. “Yeah! Okay yeah that was right. Right?” 

“Just shut the fuck up already,” Mikasa said to him, pushing Eren’s shoulder with the hand that was holding her solo cup. “If she doesn’t want to talk to him she doesn’t have to.” 

Mikasa was always willing to come to your rescue when it came to Eren, no matter how many times you assured her that he couldn’t get under your skin. You had simply known him for too long for it to phase you. It would be almost fifteen years since you met Mikasa and Eren outside of your house on the driveway when they moved into the house right next to yours. Eren was the first to come up to you, asking to play with your ball and insisting that his sister had to come with too or she’d get mad. It was funny how such a tiny interaction led to yours and Mikasa’s friendship, and Eren’s too, if you really wanted to count him as a close friend (your stubbornness to do so lately exacerbated by his newly appointed position as Acacia’s president). 

Eren whistled. “Relax, I’m not making fun of her.” 

“You are,” you said flatly. 

The joker tilted his head to the side, “Only a little. But it is a little insane that you’ve let this go on for so long.” 

You rolled your eyes, taking the lull in the conversation to glance back over at Jean. And yep, he was still with the same girl, except this time he had forgoed the beer in his hands and instead had both of them planted right on her ass, swaying to the music. Your face must have given away what you were thinking, because the second you turned to look back at Eren, he was hitting his vape looking directly at you, blowing smoke up into the air. His eyes were still slightly glassy around the edges from whatever type of substances he had ingested today that currently lived in his bloodstream. How was he still so annoyingly observant when he was like this? Were you really being that obvious? 

“You’ve gotta find a way to make him jealous.” 

You choked back a laugh, shaking your head and taking the last swig of your drink. Frowning at the sudden emptiness in your hand, Mikasa grabbed your cup. “Gonna go get us some more while the kitchen is at least semi empty,” she muttered, leaving to wade through the crowd. The second that she disappeared from your line of vision, you turned back towards Eren. 

“You sound insane,” you stated, folding your arms over your chest and leaning against the wall completely, meeting his line of vision and seeing him stare so casually at you, like he hadn’t already derailed your entire night for even mentioning Jean to you. There was a faint flush on his high cheekbones. Unfortunately, despite being crossfaded out of his mind and still slightly wet from the sprinklers outside, Eren Yeager still looked unfairly attractive. 

Like he didn’t think about it, Eren reached out his hand and grabbed your wrist, turning it over in his hand. “I have an IDEA!” 

“And what would that be, Sigmund Freud?” 

“You fake date me.” 

This was objectively a horrible idea. 

You thought this as you stared at yourself in your bathroom mirror whilst you brushed your teeth, tasting the minty flavor, already feeling the beginnings of something like regret settling into your bones. It was late, a little bit too late for your liking but at least it was Sunday tomorrow, meaning you didn’t have to wake up particularly early. The party had ended an hour ago, and Eren was insistent on walking the both of you home because it was so late the buses weren’t running anymore, and it’s not like he could offer to drive in the state that he was. So he had decided to walk you both. Like he would be any help if someone tried to mug you. You were pretty sure he was so loaded right now he might just laugh while getting robbed. 

Outside of the bathroom, you could hear Mikasa and Eren arguing. Well, it was mostly Mikasa who was doing the arguing. Eren was just taking it, honestly seeming to find the whole thing entertaining. 

“You told her to do what?” She hissed. 

“It’s really not that serious, Mik.” 

You rinsed out your mouth before opening the bathroom door and finding your way to them from the noise, standing in the archway of the hallway that led to the living room. Mikasa stood near the kitchen counter, busy chugging a few glasses of water to satiate the hangover that she would feel in the morning. Eren was sprawled across your couch, lounging sideways on the black couch cushions, head propped up on a pillow with one arm hanging off of the edge. His hoodie had ridden up a tiny bit, exposing a strip of tanned skin above the waistband of his sweats. You could see the band of his underwear peeking out. Calvin Klein. 

Mikasa then pointed at you. “This is a bad idea, and you know it.” 

You wandered further into the living room. It was a bit more lavish than you had imagined your college apartment would be. But living in the city meant that living in big buildings was pretty much a guarantee, and your parents along with Eren and Mikasa’s parents made a decent amount of money to help with rent. You lived on the twentieth floor, meaning that you got a very beautiful view of all the lights in the city at this hour, spilling into the living space from the large windows. The apartment lights were dim compared to the frat house, the glow of the city painted everything in a more fluorescent light. 

Eren’s eyes followed you immediately. So natural that you almost missed it. 

You tried very hard not to think about it. 

Mikasa pointed at him. “You.” Then towards you again. “Her.” And then back to him. “Combined together. Terrible outcomes. Tried and true. Historically.” 

Honestly, Mikasa had a bit of a point. Eren and you had spent most of your lives switching between being friends and nuisances to one another. You would fight constantly growing up, arguing and bickering over everything and nothing at the same time. When you were twelve, Eren thought it would be funny to push you into the neighborhood pool because you had told him that his new haircut was ugly. After you got out and went to tell on him to his parents, you decided to respond to his taunts by cutting the laces off of his soccer cleats. Neither of you had really matured past that. 

“It’s temporary. Like, two weeks tops,” you reminded Mikasa, walking into the kitchen. “We’re just going to pretend to date long enough for Jean to notice me more.” 

“And if it blows up in your face?” 

You opened the fridge. “Then I’ll just kill Eren.” 

“See?” Eren pointed at you like somehow the threat proved his point. “She gets it.” 

He sat up slightly now, resting one arm over the back of the couch. He watched you grab a bottle of water through half-lidded eyes. The combination of weed and alcohol was seemingly doing the best job it could at subduing him, he looked sleepy and softer around the edges. He was less of the loud frat president and more of the annoyingly attractive stepbrother of your best friend, lounging in your apartment at two in the morning. You were still giggling a bit, not fully sober yourself. Eren kept his eyes on you, making something weird in your stomach flip. 

Mikasa must have noticed the look on Eren’s face the second you had laughed, because her own expression seemed to flatten. It was the same look that she always gave when she was thinking of something important. Her eyes narrowed at her stepbrother. 

“No feelings.” 

You blinked. “Huh?”

“Jesus Christ,” Eren said, laughing. 

“I’m super serious,” Mikasa pushed. “This is fake. You are pretending. Nobody catches feelings and nobody is allowed to ruin our lease agreement.” 

You deadpanned. “Mikasa, I promise you that I am not falling in love with Eren.” 

You could see from the corner of your eye Eren gasping and holding his hand to his chest dramatically. “Pookie, that hurt.” 

“Okay you can shut the fuck up now.” 

About ten minutes passed, at which Eren declared that he would fall asleep here if he stayed any longer, and was very adamant on how he couldn't do that because he missed his bed too much. You could hear him and Mikasa exchanging some words before the door shut behind him, leaving both you and Mikasa in your shared apartment. You yawned, stretching your arms up into the air before making your way to the hallway to your room. Mikasa did the same, and you heard the soft closing of her door before you closed your own behind you. 

You rubbed one eye, exhaustion finally beginning to settle into your system now that all the noise from the frat house and from Eren being over was gone. Now it was weirdly quiet. The only light in your room was from the spill of the city lights filtering through the large windows. Being twenty floors up, almost your entire room was filled with large windows, ones that you could cover with blinds easily but often didn’t. The city looked unreal at night. Glowing headlights of cars could be seen on the streets  below. Usually you liked the look of the city like this, but tonight it seemed to just make your thoughts louder. 

You dropped onto the edge of your bed, falling backward onto the mattress and pulling the comforter over your body. 

This was a really bad fucking idea. 

You had agreed to date Eren Yeager. 

Eren fucking Yeager. 

The same Eren Yeager who accidentally set a fire alarm freshman year in his dorm building by making stir fry in the shared kitchenette and the same Eren that had slept with enough people on campus that Connie told him he should start handing out loyalty cards for free rewards. And somehow, people still seemed to adore him. Including you, to a degree. Well . . . not like that. 

Obviously not. 

Eren was attractive. It was annoying. Not in the polished clean cut way that Jean was. Jean looked put together, every single part of him intentional as to put a certain view of himself out there. The kind of guy that you could bring to your parents and they would welcome him in with open arms. Eren, on the other hand, looked like trouble. Pretty. But trouble. The kind of trouble that smiled at you across crowded rooms and made every girl around him feel singled out and special. He leaned too close when he talked and touched people so casually that it felt dangerous and easy. 

Your phone buzzed against your comforter. 

eren yeager: hello fake girlfriend. 

you: can’t this wait until the hour is in the double digits? 

eren yeager: i’m thinking of rules we should make. 

Right. Rules. That made sense.

You shifted underneath your blankets, moving further down while you stared at the bright screen. 

you: ok fine. rules. 

eren yeager: #1 we commit to the bit

you: wasn’t that the whole idea? 

eren yeager: yes smartass

eren yeager: we have to make people really believe this. so don’t tell anyone it’s fake. 

you: obviously. 

You hated how easy it was to talk to Eren, even though you didn’t keep in touch as often as you used to. It was easy to slip back into the rhythm of bantering. Talking to Eren always felt effortless, even when he was being slightly annoying. 

eren yeager: rule 2

eren yeager: you can’t act weird when i touch you

you: i do not act weird

eren yeager: i’m just sayin if you look like ur being held hostage ppl will start to notice

You rolled onto your back, staring up at the ceiling. You and Eren hadn’t really ever been physically affectionate with each other. At least in the way that you often were with Mikasa when you hugged her or grabbed her hand to lead her places. There had been quick hugs with Eren, like after your high school graduation when he insisted on it. Or the group photo that you could recall where he put his arm around you to push you into frame half drunk. 

you: fine. i won’t act weird

eren yeager: beautiful

eren yeager: it’s good to grow 

you: don’t piss me off

eren yeager: too late fake girlfriend <3

Your face heated at the stupid little heart, which felt dumb in the grand scheme of things. You were sure that Eren sent hearts to literally every single one of his contacts. Random girls when he was looking to hook up, his doordash driver, his best friend Armin. It was nothing. 

Still, your thumb seemed to hesitate over your keyboard for a moment longer. 

you: stop calling me that

eren yeager: no it’s funny

Three dots appeared again. 

eren yeager: okay important rule 

eren yeager: no accidentally catching feelings

You blinked while rereading the test, then laughed. 

you: not a problem

eren yeager: wow

eren yeager: but srs no feelings. mikasa looked afraid earlier. 

Why did your smile fade at that? Eren wasn’t even your type. Yes, he was attractive. Anyone with eyesight and a semi functional brain would be able to acknowledge that fact. But Eren was also chaotic and impulsive. He was the exact opposite of what you wanted. Jean was stable and intentional. Safe. You knew that he had been with the girl he was with before, although it had been some time since he had been in a relationship. 

you: relax

you: i’m not gonna fall in love with u eren

The typing bubble appeared. 

Disappeared. 

Then reappeared.

eren yeager: harsh phrasing ngl

You rolled your eyes so hard you thought you could see the back of your skull. 

you: oh my god shut up and go to sleep

eren yeager: make me

you: goodnight eren

A pause. 

eren yeager: goodnight princess

[levitonin]

My art from 2 years ago when I only used to draw Levi Ackerman

[wuppycake]

smoking at 12 pm call that high noon

[asteriismos]

9 days without wifi ok whatever i dont even care anymore

[asteriismos]

i haven’t been able to post bc my wifi is genuinely still out

:(

[girlmostlikely]

Does anyone know what I’m supposed to be doing for the rest of my life can someone tell me pleaseeeeeee don’t say whatever I want. #notsure

[asteriismos]

trying to write the rest of my fic and my wifi is out i’m ending it

[asteriismos]

hi!! i’d love to request a fic if that’s ok? i just found out i got into my top psych doctoral program to be a clinical psychologist and id love a fic of frank langdon? (as freaky and nasty as you want) i’m so open to whatever way you want to take it, but id love for the character to be a psychologist that makes an appearance in the ED for whatever reason. (it feels like a reward😛😭) thank you!!!!

yes my lover

expect something after i post the first part of back to black (most likely this weekend) (shoot me in the head if it’s later than sunday)

[asteriismos]

would it be wrong for me to start writing for avatar the last airbender along with the pitt because i truly have some things to say about firelord zuko

[scarletjohansson]

Patrick Ball as DR. FRANK LANGDON

THE PITT | 2.14 8:00 P.M.

[bucky-bucky-bucky-bucky]

girl who is going to be okay

[asteriismos]

i was supposed to post yesterday …. my bad…. tonight trust

[asteriismos]

how do you prepare to write complicated emotions in your fics? like what's your process?

i have bipolar 2 <3

[asteriismos]

𝙗𝙖𝙘𝙠 𝙩𝙤 𝙗𝙡𝙖𝙘𝙠 — frank langdon (prologue)

·.༄࿔ 𝗶𝘁 𝘄𝗮𝘀 𝗮 𝗯𝗮𝗱 𝗶𝗱𝗲𝗮, 𝗻𝗼𝘄 𝗶'𝗺 𝘁𝗼𝘁𝗮𝗹𝗹𝘆 𝗳𝘂𝗰𝗸𝗲𝗱

➴ back to black ; frank langdon x doctor!reader, infidelity, canon adjacent, mentions of drug abuse, HEAVY smut, angst, toxic vibes, frank is lowkey mean, mutual pining, repressed emotions, forced proximity, did i mention angst?, set during season two

tufts of chestnut brown hair tickled against your inner thighs with hands splaying against the soft skin that continued to push your legs apart despite your body's protests. it felt too good. almost too good that your body couldn't handle the sweet feeling of frank's tongue flattening against your clit, pawing at the one thing that would normally send you over the edge if he hadn't been pulling you back and forth between the brink of release for the last thirty minutes.

the on-call room was somewhere that doctors usually went to when it was time to unwind, though, when people thought about unwinding, you doubted that they meant with each other.

though, you had never been one to follow the rules much, regardless of the compliance that you had to have to get through the throws of medical school and then through residency. if anyone was to understand that, it would be him, frank, the man between your thighs who you had been sleeping with for a few months now.

the married man who you had been sleeping with for months now.

you knew that it was wrong, but from what he told you and what you gathered from others who knew him more, their marriage was on the fritz. they barely spent any time together. frank even had his own apartment away from his wife and children, one that you had been to many times after some very late night cases.

you moaned, a whine escaping your lips not long after when his tongue slipped inside of you, hands reaching for his hair while one of his came up to paw at your breast. it was only noon, with the bustling of hospital life running past the door that only separated the two of you and them with a lock, one that could be easily opened by one of the nurses if someone complained about the lack of places to sleep.

"i have to check on the kid in bed four," you muttered to him, pushing your head up to make eye contact with him like his face wasn't buried in your pussy. "hurry up." in any other scenario and with any other person, it would be slightly rude to tell someone to hurry up, but you were a doctor first, person second. even though you were a person with needs just like everyone else.

frank shushed you. "fine," he whispered, one of his fingers brushing up and down your pussy before pushing it inside of you to speed things up. "guess it's for the best anyway."

you hummed, toes curling. "and why's that, langdon?" you asked, a cocky smirk coming to your face.

another finger pushed inside of you, curling so that the tips of his fingers brushed against the spongy pad that sent you reeling. frank continued to pepper kisses inside of your thighs, coaxing sweet sounds from your lips.

"abby called yesterday," he said, as if it was the most simple thing in the world. like he wasn't ten seconds away from making you cum and then fucking you into oblivion. your eyes caught his, a questioning look. abby. his wife. the woman's name something you definitely didn't want to hear in this position.

"really odd dirty talk from you fra —"

"she wants to make things work. so this has to be over today."

you blinked.

"what."

︶⊹︶︶୨୧︶︶⊹︶

first chapter will be published 4/15.

[bluewithin]

kate elizabeth russell, my dark vanessa.

[suiheisen]

(✿◕‿◕) die (ꈍ ꒳ ꈍ✿)