Chapter Text
The alarm on Eren's phone blared at 6:30 AM sharp, but before he could reach for it, a slender arm wrapped around his waist and pulled him back against a soft, warm body.
"Five more minutes," Mikasa murmured into his hair, her voice thick with sleep. Her hand drifted lower, tracing patterns on his abs. "Or we could just stay in bed all day."
Eren shivered despite the warmth of their shared bed. "Mikasa, I have to go. It's my first day of university."
He turned in her embrace to face her. Even half-asleep, she was breathtaking—raven hair cascading over the silk pillows, dark eyes watching him with an intensity that both thrilled and unnerved him.
"University," she scoffed softly, though her fingers continued their exploration. "As if you need it. I could hire private tutors for you. Better professors, smaller classes, no distractions." Her eyes narrowed slightly. "Like those university girls."
Eren sighed and gently extricated himself from her grip. "We've been over this. I want to experience college normally. Like everyone else."
Mikasa's expression hardened almost imperceptibly. "Normal? There's nothing normal about us, Eren." She sat up, the silk sheet pooling around her generous curves. "And I prefer it that way."
By the time Eren had showered and dressed, the rich aroma of coffee and sizzling bacon was coming from the kitchen. He found Mikasa there, already dressed in a tailored pantsuit that accentuated her curves, her hair tied back in an elegant ponytail. She moved with an effortless grace as she flipped pancakes on the griddle.
"You didn't have to do all this," Eren said, his voice soft with appreciation.
"I wanted to," Mikasa replied without turning. "My baby's first day of college. It should be special." She gestured to the island bar. "Sit. Eat."
Eren settled onto one of the high stools as she placed a plate before him—pancakes stacked perfectly, bacon crispy, eggs scrambled just the way he liked them. She poured him coffee, adding exactly two teaspoons of sugar and a splash of cream, just as he preferred.
"Thank you," he said, already digging in.
Mikasa watched him eat, leaning against the counter with her own coffee mug. "You're going to need your energy today. It's a big day."
"It's just orientation and a couple of intro classes," Eren said around a mouthful of pancake.
Eren finished his breakfast while Mikasa told him about her day ahead—a board meeting to discuss their new aircraft prototype, then lunch with potential investors from Europe. He loved hearing about her work, the way her eyes lit up when she talked about innovation and technology. She was brilliant, and it amazed him that someone like her could love someone like him.
When he'd cleared his plate, he stood and grabbed his backpack. "I should get going."
Mikasa nodded and followed him to the foyer.
She adjusted his collar. "You look so handsome, baby." Her fingers lingered on his chest. "Remember to text me between classes. I want to know where you are at all times."
"I will," Eren promised, leaning into her touch despite himself. "I'll be careful."
"You better be." Her hand moved to cup his jaw, thumb stroking his cheek. "I worry about you, Eren. So many people out there... they might not have your best interests at heart." Her eyes darkened. "Especially girls like that blonde one, what's her name? His...?"
"Historia, and she's just a friend like the others," Eren said, his pulse quickening.
"I don't like it." Mikasa's voice was soft but carried an unmistakable edge. "I don't like you being around other women who might get ideas."
"They wouldn't—"
"They wouldn't if they knew who you belonged to," she interrupted, pulling him closer. Her lips brushed against his. "But our little secret is safe for now. Let's keep it that way."
Before he could answer, she wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled him into a deep, possessive kiss. Her lips moved against his with practiced familiarity, claiming him completely. Eren responded instantly, his hands finding their place on her waist before drifting lower to cup the curve of her ass he loved so much.
Mikasa smiled against his mouth, a low purr vibrating in her throat. The sound sent a jolt through Eren's body, and he deepened the kiss, his fingers pressing into the soft flesh of her rear. God, how he loved this. The power she exuded, the way she responded to his touch, the complete ownership she took of him in moments like these.
Forgetting completely about his first day, Eren backed her against the wall, his mouth never leaving hers. Mikasa's hands tangled in his hair, holding him close, her body pressing against his in all the right ways. The kiss grew hungrier, more desperate, until the distant chime of the hall clock reminded them of the time.
Eren pulled away breathlessly, his forehead resting against hers. "I have to go," he whispered.
Mikasa's dark eyes were heavy with desire. "I know." She straightened his collar again with deliberate slowness. "But don't be late getting home. I expect you to be here when I come back from work."
"I won't," Eren promised.
Mikasa nodded slowly, her eyes still dark with possession. "You know, I could just have Sasha pick you up, right? Maybe we should do that instead."
"No, thats fine," Eren said quickly. He didn't want Armin and the others to see him jump in such a fancy car. "Bye, love you."
"Love you more," Mikasa replied, already leaving for the living room.
As Eren grabbed his backpack again, he caught sight of himself in the full-length mirror—a nineteen-year-old boy about to start college, dressed in clothes bought by his twenty-eight-year-old girlfriend. A girlfriend who was also the chairwoman of one of the world's most powerful corporations, who lived in a mansion that could be featured in architecture magazines, and who sometimes got angry enough to leave bruises on his body.
He shook his head to dispel the thought. Mikasa loved him. She'd just never been loved before, not really. Her parents had died when she was young, and she'd built Hizuru Industries from the ground up, sacrificing any chance at a personal life. That rainy night when he'd helped her change her flat tire. That had been the first time anyone had shown her genuine kindness without wanting something in return.
"Text me when you get there!" Mikasa called from the living room as he closed the door behind him.
Eren walked towards the college with a slight spring in his step, the taste of Mikasa still on his lips. Despite the suffocating aspects of their relationship her—possessiveness, her rules, her occasional anger—moments like these reminded him why he stayed. Why he put up with the controlling texts and the jealousy. Because beneath it all, she loved him. And maybe, just maybe, that was enough.
The university was bustling with activity, students rushing to classes, professors greeting familiar faces, clubs trying to recruit new members. Eren felt a surge of excitement despite Mikasa's warnings. This was what he wanted. A normal university experience.
"Eren! Over here!"
He spotted Armin waving from near the science building, Annie beside him looking as aloof as ever but with a tell-tale softness in her eyes when she glanced at Armin.
"Hey," Eren greeted them with a genuine smile. "You guys heading to Intro to Physics too?"
"Unfortunately," Armin said, adjusting his glasses. "Though I heard the professor is amazing. Dr. Zoe—supposedly eccentric but brilliant."
"Sounds about right for this department," Eren laughed.
Annie elbowed Armin gently. "We should get going. Don't want to be late on the first day."
As they walked, Armin lowered his voice. "So... how are things? With her?"
Eren tensed slightly. "Fine. Good, actually."
Armin studied his face. "You seem... different. More guarded."
"It's just new," Eren deflected. "Living together, I mean."
"You're not... having second thoughts, are you?" Armin asked quietly. "Because she's older, and—"
"No," Eren interrupted, perhaps too quick and harshly. "It's not like that. She's been amazing. Really."
Annie shot them a curious look but didn't comment.
The lecture hall was already half-full when they arrived. Eren scanned the room and spotted several familiar faces. Jean and Connie were sitting near the front, Historia and Ymir a few rows behind them, Reiner and Bertholdt by the window, Hitch and Pieck chatting animatedly near the aisle. Floch was alone in the corner, looking uncharacteristically serious.
"There's room by Jean and Connie," Armin suggested.
Eren hesitated, remembering Mikasa's warning about Historia specifically. "Maybe we should sit elsewhere? Floch is sitting alone."
"Why? They saved us seats," Armin said, already moving in that direction.
Reluctantly, Eren followed.
Jean noticed them first. "About time you showed up. Almost gave your seats away."
"Like anyone would want to sit next to you," Connie retorted without looking up from his phone.
"Hey, Eren," Historia greeted warmly as they settled in. "Nervous about your first day?"
"A little," Eren admitted, though he couldn't help but smile at her. Her friendliness was disarming which was exactly the kind of trait Mikasa worried about.
Ymir, who had an arm draped protectively over Historia's shoulders, gave Eren a scrutinizing look. "You look different. Did you get taller?"
"I wish," Eren laughed, though his heart rate increased. He felt exposed under her gaze. He didn't like it when his friends got like that.
The professor arrived before any more questions could be asked – a whirlwind of energy with wild hair and glasses perpetually sliding down her nose. Dr. Zoe launched immediately into an enthusiastic explanation of quantum mechanics, her passion for the subject infectious.
Eren tried to focus, really he did, but his phone vibrated in his pocket. He discreetly checked it under the desk.
Mikasa: Where are you? Which class?
He quickly typed back:
Eren: Physics lecture
Mikasa: Are you sitting with anyone?
Eren hesitated before replying:
Eren: Yes. Armin and Annie.
Mikasa: Good. Remember what I said.
Before Eren could respond, another message came through.
Mikasa: I mean it, baby. I'm watching out for you.
Eren's stomach twisted. He glanced around the lecture hall, feeling suddenly paranoid. Of course Mikasa wasn't actually watching him. She was probably in a board meeting or reviewing prototypes across town. But still...
"Eren, you taking notes?" Armin whispered beside him.
"Yeah," Eren mumbled, pulling out his notebook and forcing himself to pay attention to the lecture.
By the time the class ended, Eren's nerves were frayed. He excused himself from the group, claiming he needed to make a quick call, and ducked into an empty corridor.
"Mikasa, I can't text during class," he said as soon as she answered. "The professor was strict about phones."
"I understand," she replied, though her tone was cool. "I just worry. You're so innocent, Eren. Those girls... they can be predatory."
"I can handle myself," Eren said.
"Can you?" Mikasa's voice lowered. "Remember what happened last time?"
Eren flinched at the memory. "That was different. I won't do that again."
"You'd better not," Mikasa said, her voice softening slightly. "I hate being angry with you, baby. I really do. But you make me worry so much."
"I know," Eren sighed. "I'll be more careful. I promise."
"Good. Now tell me about your class. Was it interesting?"
Eren relaxed slightly as he launched into a description of the lecture, grateful for the shift in topic. As he spoke, he leaned against the wall, closing his eyes and imagining Mikasa in her office—powerful, beautiful, completely in control of her world. And somehow, completely in love with him.
"I'm glad you're enjoying it," Mikasa said when he finished. "But remember what matters most. This is just... temporary. Until you're ready to take your place beside me at Hizuru."
Eren's eyes snapped open. "What? Mikasa, we talked about this. I want to finish my degree. Make something of myself on my own terms."
"You will," she said soothingly. "But you have so much potential, baby. Why waste it on entry-level positions when you could be learning the family business? Our business."
"It's your business," Eren corrected. "I'm not—"
"You are," she interrupted firmly. "You are everything to me, Eren. Which means Hizuru is yours too. Always has been."
Before Eren could respond, he heard voices approaching down the corridor. "I have to go," he whispered. "Someone's coming."
"Text me after your next class," Mikasa commanded. "And remember our dinner plans tonight. I'm making your favorite."
"Okay," Eren agreed. "Love you."
"Love you more," she replied before ending the call.
Eren slid his phone back into his pocket just as Armin rounded the corner. "There you are. We were wondering where you disappeared to."
"Just needed to take that call," Eren said casually, though his heart was still racing.
"Her?" Armin asked knowingly.
Eren just nodded and gave him a tight-lipped smile.
Armin studied him carefully. "You know, if things get too... much... you can always stay with me and Grandpa. We have the spare room you always used to stay at when you came over."
The offer was tempting—more than Eren wanted to admit. But he remembered the last time he'd defied Mikasa, the way her eyes had gone cold, the sharp sting of her palm against his cheek, the sheer force of her knee on his stomach, the bruises that had lasted for days on his body.
"I'm fine," Eren said, though the words felt hollow. "She's just protective."
"Protective or possessive?" Armin asked gently.
Eren didn't bother to answer him as he started to walk out of the corridor.
As they headed to their next class, Eren's phone buzzed again. He knew without looking that it was Mikasa, checking up on him again. And as much as it suffocated him, a part of him couldn't help but feel loved in a way he never had been before—completely, obsessively, and without reservation.
He just hoped the price of that love wasn't more than he could afford to pay.
The final lecture of the day ended, and Eren felt a wave of relief wash over him. Despite his best efforts to follow Mikasa's rules, the day had been a minefield of constant texts and near-misses with female classmates who seemed determined to strike up conversations. He'd spent most of his breaks hiding in the library, responding to Mikasa's messages with detailed updates about his location and activities.
"Ready to go?" Armin asked as they gathered their things.
"Yeah, let's get out of here," Eren replied, slinging his backpack over his shoulder.
As they stepped outside into the warm afternoon sun, the friend group naturally formed small clusters. Connie and Jean were already arguing about something trivial, while Reiner and Bertholdt discussed their upcoming football tryouts.
Eren found himself falling into step with Historia, who was laughing at something Connie had shouted from ahead. "I swear those two will argue about anything," she said, shaking her head.
"At least it's entertaining," Eren replied, smiling. "How was your art history class?"
"Amazing! The professor showed us these incredible Renaissance paintings," Historia's eyes lit up with enthusiasm. "You should come see the exhibit downtown this weekend. A few of us are going."
Eren hesitated, remembering Mikasa's strict rules about extracurricular activities. "I'll... have to check my schedule."
Historia's smile faltered slightly. "Oh, okay. Well, let me know if you can make it."
They continued walking, their conversation flowing easily as they discussed childhood memories and plans for the semester. Eren found himself relaxing, enjoying the normalcy of it all. Historia had been his friend since kindergarten, along with Armin, and being around her felt comfortable, safe.
"You know," Historia said as they approached the parking lot, "it's really good to see you again, Eren. We barely hung out this summer."
"Yeah, I was... busy," Eren replied vaguely, feeling a pang of guilt. Mikasa had kept him close most weekends, claiming she missed him and needed his company after grueling workweeks.
"Well, we should fix that," Historia insisted, linking her arm through his. "This Friday, dinner with the group? My treat."
Eren opened his mouth to respond when he noticed their friends ahead had stopped dead. Jean and Connie were staring at something in the parking lot, their expressions confused. Even Armin had turned around, his face etched with worry.
"What's going on?" Historia asked, following their gaze.
Eren's blood ran cold as he saw it: a sleek black Mercedes-Maybach, identical to Mikasa's, parked at an angle that blocked part of the pedestrian walkway. The friends ahead parted almost unconsciously, creating a clear line of sight between Eren and the car.
The rear passenger door swung open, and there she was – Mikasa Ackerman, still in her tailored pantsuit from the morning, oversized sunglasses hiding her eyes. Sasha sat behind the wheel, looking distinctly uncomfortable.
"Get in, Eren," Mikasa said, her voice carrying across the pavement. It was simple, direct, but with an unmistakable edge of ice.
Eren couldn't breathe. His throat constricted, his heart pounding against his ribs. She was here. At his university. In front of all his friends. Had she seen him with Historia? Of course she had. That's why she was here.
The entire friend group stood frozen, their gazes shifting between Eren and the mysterious woman in the expensive car. Confusion, disbelief, and dawning realization crossed their faces in waves. Only Armin looked truly worried, his expression mirroring Eren's panic.
"Who's that?" Historia whispered, her arm still linked through his.
"I..." Eren couldn't form words. His mind raced, trying to calculate the damage, the explanations, the inevitable fallout.
Mikasa's sunglasses turned toward Historia, and Eren could feel the weight of her gaze even through the dark lenses. He saw Historia shrink back slightly, her friendly smile vanishing.
"Eren," Mikasa's voice was softer now, but somehow more dangerous. "Don't make me ask again."
The endearment hung in the air, a public claim that made Eren's stomach drop. His friends' eyes widened in unison. Jean's jaw went slack. Connie looked like he'd seen a ghost.
"I... I have to go," Eren finally managed to say to Historia, gently untangling their arms.
"But who is she?" Historia pressed, her voice trembling slightly.
"Later," Eren promised, though he had no idea how he would ever explain this.
He forced his feet to move, each step feeling like a lead weight. His friends' stares bore into him as he approached the car. He could feel their questions, their confusion, their judgment.
As he reached the Mercedes, Mikasa shifted in her seat, making room for him. She didn't touch him, didn't smile, didn't acknowledge his presence beyond opening the door. The coldness was worse than anger—it was a carefully constructed performance for his friends.
Eren slid onto the plush leather seat, the door closing behind him with a soft click that sounded like a coffin lid sealing shut. Through the tinted window, he saw his friends still standing there, staring. Armin mouthed something he couldn't read.
Sasha pulled away from the curb without a word, the expensive car gliding smoothly through the parking lot and onto the street. Eren kept his eyes forward, refusing to look back. The silence in the car was suffocating, a heavy blanket of unspoken fury. Mikasa stared straight ahead, her profile a mask of cold indifference.
She didn't speak. She didn't even look at him.
Eren gulped, his throat suddenly dry. He knew this silence. This was worse than shouting. This was the quiet before the storm.
"Mikasa," he began, his voice barely a whisper.
She didn't respond, didn't even flicker an eyelash. It was as if he wasn't there. Eren's heart hammered against his ribs. He risked a glance at her, at the rigid set of her jaw, the way her fingers gripped her expensive purse. She was furious. The realization hit him like a physical blow, and he felt a tremor of genuine fear run through him.
The drive home was agonizingly long. Each minute stretched into an eternity of tense silence. Sasha kept her eyes fixed on the road, wisely pretending to be deaf to the tension radiating from the back seat. Eren wanted to explain, to apologize, to say anything that might break through the wall of ice Mikasa had built around herself, but he knew from experience that it would only make things worse. So he sat in silence, his hands clenched in his lap, bracing himself for what was to come.
When they finally pulled into the circular driveway, Eren felt a surge of nausea. The gates closed behind them with a finality that made his stomach clench. Sasha parked the car and practically fled to open Mikasa's door, her relief at being able to escape palpable.
Mikasa stepped out of the car with an unnerving grace, her movements fluid and precise. She walked toward the front door without a backward glance, leaving Eren to follow. He grabbed his backpack and hurried after her, his steps heavy with dread.
The moment the front door closed behind them, sealing them in the grand foyer, Mikasa's composure shattered.
"What was that?" she demanded, her voice low and dangerous.
"Mikasa, I—" Eren began, but she cut him off with a sharp gesture.
"Don't you dare lie to me, Eren," she snarled, advancing on him. "I saw you. Walking arm in arm. Laughing. Making plans."
"You know about Historia," Eren insisted, backing away instinctively. "We've known each other since kindergarten."
"Is that supposed to make it better?" Mikasa's voice rose, her eyes flashing with fury. "That you've known her that long? That you let her touch you like that?"
"She just linked her arm through mine," Eren pleaded. "It's what friends do."
"Friends?" Mikasa laughed, a harsh, ugly sound. "Friends don't touch what's mine!"
Before Eren could react, her hand shot out and grabbed his arm, her fingers digging into his flesh like claws. "I told you the rules, Eren. No contact with other women. No secrets. And what do you do? The very first day, you parade around with some blonde slut like you're single!"
"She's not a slut," Eren protested, immediately regretting his words as her eyes narrowed.
"And you're defending her?" Mikasa's grip tightened, making him wince. "After everything I've done for you? After I took you in, gave you a home, loved you when no one else would? Do you even love me?"
"I'm not defending her, and I do love you," Eren whispered, trying to soothe her, but it was too late.
Her other hand came up, striking him across the face with enough force to send him stumbling backward. His head snapped to the side, his cheek stinging from the impact.
"Don't you dare say that to me," she hissed, following him as he retreated. "Not when you're humiliating me behind my back."
"I wasn't—" Eren began, but she struck him again, this time a punch that split his lip.
He tasted blood. Fear coursed through him, cold and sharp. He knew better than to fight back, knew it would only enrage her further. So he stood there, taking it, his eyes fixed on the floor as she continued her verbal assault.
"You think I'm stupid? That I wouldn't find out?" she demanded, punctuating her words with another shove that sent him crashing into the hallway table. A vase toppled over, shattering on the marble floor. "I have eyes everywhere, Eren. Everywhere!"
Eren lay on the floor amidst the broken glass, his head spinning from the impact. He could feel blood trickling from his lip, his cheek throbbing where she'd struck him. He looked up at her, at the woman he loved, the woman who terrified him, and saw nothing but cold fury in her eyes.
"I'm sorry," he whispered, his voice trembling. "I messed up, it won't happen again."
She stood over him, her chest heaving, her expression unreadable. For a moment, he thought she might kick him, but instead she turned away.
"Clean this up," she commanded, her voice dangerously calm. "And then get to your room. You're not leaving this house until I fucking say so."
He watched her walk away, her heels clicking against the marble, each sound a nail in the coffin of his freedom. He slowly pushed himself up, his body aching, his heart heavy with the weight of his choices.
The silence that followed was more damning than her shouts had been. Eren worked methodically, his movements stiff as he collected every shard of glass. He wiped the small smear of blood from the marble with a paper towel, his reflection in the polished surface a stranger's face—pale, with a rapidly swelling cheek and a split, bloody lip. The physical pain was nothing new; it was the cold, hollow ache in his chest.
When the floor was clean, as if nothing had ever happened, he made his way upstairs. Each step was an effort, his body protesting the abuse it had endured. He didn't go to their bedroom. He went to the guest room across the hall, the one he sometimes used when things were particularly bad between them. It was sterile, impersonal, and most importantly, it wasn't theirs.
He sat on the edge of the bed, the backpack he'd been so excited to unpack just hours ago feeling like a lead weight at his feet. He thought of his friends' faces—Historia's hurt confusion, Jean's unusual sense of worry, and Armin's knowing look. His secret wasn't just his anymore. It was out there, a fragile, ugly thing exposed in the harsh light of day. He'd have to face them tomorrow, and the day after that, with Mikasa's mark still visible on his face, a brand of ownership he couldn't hide.
He didn't know how long he sat there, lost in a haze of despair and fear, before the door creaked open. Mikasa stood in the doorway, no longer in her sharp business suit but in a silk robe, her face scrubbed clean of makeup. She looked softer, vulnerable, and for a moment, she was the woman he had fallen in love with, the lonely soul he had helped on a rainy night.
She didn't speak, just crossed the room and knelt before him. Her fingers, which had been clenched in fury just an hour ago, now gently traced the angry red mark on his cheek. Her touch was impossibly tender, a stark contrast to the violence that had come before.
"I'm sorry, baby," she whispered, her voice thick with unshed tears. "I hate it when you make me do this. You know I don't want to hurt you."
Eren's resolve crumbled. He hated this part, the part where she broke and became the woman he adored, because it made everything so much more complicated. He resented her, but he loved her. He was terrified of her, but he couldn't imagine life without her.
"It's okay," he lied, his voice hoarse.
She shook her head, leaning in to press a soft kiss to his uninjured cheek. "No, it's not. I just... I get so scared, Eren. I see you with someone else, and I think about what it would be like to lose you. I can't lose you. You're all I have."
In that moment, she wasn't the powerful chairwoman of Hizuru Industries. She was just Mikasa, a woman who had never known love until him, and who was terrified of its absence.
He wrapped his arms around her, pulling her into his lap. She melted against him, her body trembling slightly. "I'm not going anywhere," he murmured into her hair, repeating the words he knew she needed to hear, the words he desperately wanted to believe.
"I know," she sighed, her arms tightening around his neck. "But we need to be more careful. No more walking alone with girls. No more making plans without telling me first. Okay, baby?"
He nodded against her, knowing it was the only answer she would accept.
The fight was over. She had won, as she always did.