#you don't feel like there's a black hole of indiscernable time between then and now?

[competition-sky]

I wish someone would talk about it lol

[father-time-and-baby-new-year]

rhinestone eyes

PAIRING: Rich Boy!Eren x Fem!Reader

WARNINGS [present+future]: infidelity, dubcon, gaslighting, manipulative and toxic behavior, toxic relationship, sexual content, yandere tendencies, suggestive hand-holding

part one

kofi

There's a sneer on Eren's face as green eyes behind Versace aviators glide over your form, staring you up and down. His gaze is so penetrative, it makes your teeth chatter. Maybe he was just checking you out. Maybe he was scrutinizing every blemish.

You suddenly feel so very small in your tennis skirt, the tight collared shirt stretching over your breasts, and wished that today out of all days wasn't when you decided to dress a little more stylish.

"Fancy seeing you here." His voice is nonchalant but there's a tone of humor that accompanies his brisk words. How long would it be until he laughs at you?

He scowls, "Are you mute or something? Why aren't you greeting me back properly?"

"Eren," You took a deep breath, "What are you doing in Paris?"

It occurs to you that you've never seen him out of his uniform before. He's wearing a light blue button-down, half the buttons left unfastened, polo shorts, an expensive black watch glittering on his wrist, silver rings on his slender fingers, and a thin silver chain dangling around his neck.

He's also acquired a new piercing, industrial, judging by the bar across his ear. The silver glints harshly under the sun.

"Are you done burning holes through me?"

You blush, embarrassment coloring your cheeks: "No, I'm just surprised." You tucked a loose lock of hair behind your ear, "Didn't expect to run into anyone I knew in another country."

You were just taking a pleasant walk in the acclaimed Champs-Élysées, the avenue every bit as a picture-perfect postcard as it had been described.

"Have you eaten?" The question is spoken with a sigh like he couldn't believe he was asking you this, and you couldn't either.

"Oh, um, no?" You responded, bewildered.

He runs a hand through his dark hair, which reached the nape of his neck by now: "I know a cafe around here. Let's get brunch. We'll talk there."

You don't know what possessed you to nod but you did so, trying to match his quick and long strides. The walk was silent, presumably because the two of you were saving your burning questions for the cafe.

He rolls his eyes when you stutter through your French. He raises a hand, and simply tells the waiter his order and dismisses him. His French is flawless and you're tempted to ask him how it's so good, but you already know the answer. Probably had hordes of tutors to help him.

Merci Monsieur

"Wait," You remark to Eren, "I didn't order."

"I ordered for us. Pain au chocolate, savory crepes, eggs, and ham. Coffee after. For me. Hot chocolate for you because you don't drink coffee."

Oh. That actually sounds good. How did he know your beverage preferences?

He fishes out a cigarette from his pocket, skinny and hand-rolled, "So what are you doing here? No offense but you don't exactly seem like you can afford a vacation to France. "

Now is your turn to sigh. You've nearly forgotten how blunt he could be: "Here on an internship. For art" You supply.

"I assume you just regularly come to Paris every summer?"

He doesn't deny or verify your statement, "Something like that."

"So you're staying at a hostel or?" He asks, exhaling a thick cloud of smoke that makes your nose wrinkle.

The waiter comes by with food, and you turn to Eren with a sour look, "I sincerely hope you're not going to smoke while we're eating."

To your utter surprise, he ashes the cigarette. You were expecting a witty and mean retort at the very minimum, not silent compliance.

You pick up the earlier conversation, "Well, I'm actually staying with my boyfriend." You mummer the last word quietly but the viridian-eyed boy's ears are keen. You don't notice how his grip on the knife tightens.

"You're staying with your boyfriend?" He repeats.

You nod, "Yeah, he's an art student too."

The rest of the meal is completed in sparing small-talk and lengths of silence. But it's not awkward. It's weird. On one hand, having brunch with Eren Yeager in fucking Paris, heir to a billionaire pharmaceutical company should feel surreal, but it's strangely peaceful. You feel more at peace sitting across from him in France than you did when he sat next to you in homeroom.

When it's time to pay the check, Eren looks amused by the very notion of you digging into your purse.

"What kind of gentleman would I be if I let the lady pay?" His words are spoken with a teasing smile.

You roll your eyes but can't help a glimmer of a smile from peeking through on your lips, "Didn't take you much for a gentleman."

He tosses his black card on the bill, "You'd be surprised."

What's there left to do now? Is it time to part ways? There's a part of you that craves more but life has taught you to not be greedy when you already have so so much.

You dabble the corner of your lips with a napkin, "Well, this has been fun-"

"Wait, uh, do you wanna check out the Louvre? Since you're an art student and all, you might uh enjoy it."

You stare at him. Is he tongue-tied?

"You've probably there been a million times already."

"Yeah...but you haven't been, right?"

You blink before breaking into a smile that Eren is sure is going to give him heart palpations, so sunny and bright.

"I would love to!"

You guys check out Mona Lisa for the sheer novelty, and you're bouncing around the museum, oohing and ahhing at the chiseled statues and Renaissance paintings. There is so much history here, it blows your mind.

Eren finds himself watching you more than the paintings. You have this veneer of snark that you wrap around yourself like a protective gauze (maybe that's how you maintain your survival in a world of hyenas) but you're different now.

You're yourself. Watching you here come alive in unbridled enthusiasm, eyes widened in passion, makes him reach out to his pocket and fish for his disposable film camera. He doesn't know if he's ever seen anyone in his vapid life look like the way you do, so filled with a zest for things that are greater than themselves.

He wants to burn you into his memory, praying to all the gods that you won't notice when he takes a picture of you admiring a bust of a goddess. He slyly tucks his camera back into his pocket.

The world seems to stand still when you tug his hand to show him a painting, an expression of unadulterated wonder on your face. But when you realize you pulled his hand, you immediately drop it like hot coals.

Why do you look so worried? Why do you look so scared?

"You can hold my hand if you want. It's-it's okay." He can't believe he's gotten the words out.

You're taking too long, your hands still hanging limply by your side, an indiscernible expression on your pretty face. Eren doesn't understand why it makes him so mad, why your sudden hesitation grated his nerves. Deciding to make your choice for you, he grabs your hand, squeezing your palm as he flashes you the charismatic smile that's got him out of countless incidents.

He doesn't like the expression of worry marring your features. Where did the happy jovial girl go? Just a few seconds, you were poking him with sparkles in your eyes, "Look at this Eren!" and "So beautiful, right?"

He forces another smile: "Show me the painting you wanted me to see." Maybe it was meant to be a request but it comes out as a demand.

You cast a glance at your joined hands, his grip borderline painful. "O-okay."

You lead him across the floor, and Eren can feel the stares of people around him. They are smiling. An older woman utters a "Un si charmant couple."

You take him to a grand painting. It's haunting and dark, swirling with so many shades of dusty red from vermillion to scarlet. A pregnant woman lies reclined, arm hanging and head lolling. She appears to be asleep, and there is a cacophony of men around her portrayed in varying degrees of stress.

"Death of a virgin", you breathed.

Such a macabre name, Eren thought as he gazed longer into the painting. He loosens his grip on your hand, testing whether you would pull away.

You don't.

It's raining outside and you're giggling.

"Fuck" Eren swears, "I'll call a cab."

You're a vision drenched in rain. Your clothes are soaked, and he could see the outline of your bra from your thin shirt. But it seems like you don't even care.

"Let's just enjoy it!" You cry out. There are thick droplets stuck in between your eyelashes, and you smell like rain too. It's dangerous, he can see chords of purple lightning flash the sky, thunder booming, and it's like you're dancing, the way you move so effortlessly.

You hook his hands in yours, "Doesn't this feel good?"

He feels like all his sins are being washed away, all the impurities and muck that clung onto him after nineteen years of existence. His heart nearly jumps out of his throat every time he looks at you.

He cups your chin and kisses you. When he feels the threadbare resistance, he kisses harsher, tongue and teeth swallowing your protests, coaxing your mouth open with a skillful pinch to your nipple. He pulls away just before you feel like all your breath has been robbed.

You're stunned speechless, "Eren...I...h-have a boyf-"

He kisses you again. And this time you kiss back, holding nothing back.

taglist: @candy-hime @cinnamon-n-roses @forwardpair

inspo: @candy-hime's rich boy!shoto. the iconic golf club one <3