Conflict

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[Edited October 19, 2019] 

(reader pov) 


You stare at him, anger boiling up at his blatant disrespect. Did this man not have basic common courtesy? Was he raised thinking that every human being that walked this Earth was born with the sole purpose of kissing his ass? 
He sat there quietly, eyes searching yours as he waited for a reaction. After a few beats of silence, you chuckle darkly, teeth gnashing as you look him dead in the eyes. 
"You really think I'd have sex with a midget like you?"
He quirked an eyebrow.
"I'm taller than you."
"You're still a little short for a 27 year old man."
"Same for you."
"I'm not a man."
He shook his head, a small smile tugging at the corners of his mouth.
"Whatever. As long as you understand." He said, his expression slipping back to his stoic nonchalant one. He stood, leaving his empty cup and getting a cigarette box out of his coat pocket.He made eye contact with you and smirked before leaving the store, leaving a crushing aura behind. You sat there, your façade crumbling away like toy blocks at a preschool. Groaning, you place your forehead on your arms as a waitress comes around to the table and collects the empty cup. 
"Need anything?"
You were quiet for a few seconds, before mumbling your response. "A mocha, please."
Her footsteps slowly faded away, leaving you slumped against the table as pain throbbed behind your temples, seemingly mocking you after your recent interlude. You wanted nothing more than to just choke the life out of that smug little bastard, but alas, prison wasn't a place that you'd like to end up in on his behalf. 


The bell sounded, alerting the nearly empty café that there was a new visitor. You sat still, hearing slow footsteps approach your table, and then the sound of someone sitting down at your table. You raise your head to see Jean, awkwardly sitting across from you.
"Hey (Y/N)."
His familiar tired voice was like music to your ears as you let out a deep sigh.
"You seem pretty down, what's up?"
He asked, taking a drink from his monster energy drink, his hazel eyes never leaving your face.
You studied him- two-toned hair with an under shave, a beanie, a leather jacket that hid his flannel shirt, the same old worn skinny jeans he never seemed to take off.
You shook your head at your co-worker.
"My parents are making me have an arranged marriage." You mumble, pinching the bridge of your nose with your thumb and index finger.
"What?" His eyebrows furrowed as his eyes held yours, the confusion  and concern swirling on his gaze. "Yeah. To Levi Ackerman." You reply, your voice dripping with aggravation as you thought of the short mean ass. "The hotsy-totsy business guy? That Levi?" You nod, hearing a low whistle come from Jean as he leaned back in his chair. "Sucks. I'm sorry (Y/N).." He replied, giving you a pitying look as he leaned against the table. "Doesn't matter." You say, waving your hand and leaning forward on your elbows. "How are you and Mikasa?" His eyes brightened as his mouth began to stretch into a smile. "We're doing great." He said, chuckling as a small blush creeped into his cheeks. You smiled, remembering their wedding from a few weeks ago. It was really interesting, having both bride and groom decked out in tattoos.


"You gonna be a daddy anytime soon?" You ask deviously, winking as his face reddens. "I dunno man, I make good pay but I just- Mika wants kids but man." He kinda groaned. "Kids are so noisy."You chuckle at his dramatic groaning. "Yeah but you'd love 'em. You'd be a good dad and you know it." Jean was quiet, then he perked up as he seemed to come up with a new question.
"What about you?"You were quiet, eyes widening in shock as you processed the question. 


"Uh... I don't think we'll be having kids.." You mumble, an awkward smile creeping on your face as you bristle under his gaze. Sensing your discomfort, Jean placed his elbows on the table. "What do you mean?" 

You raise your eyebrows at him, wondering if his last two braincells finally died off after too much drinking. "This is all just a business proposal for him." You say finally, sighing again.
"He literally said he will have sex with me even if he doesn't love me."
Jean narrowed his eyes, but let you continue on. "I'm not sure what he expects from me- yeah sure, I have more to gain from this, from his perspective. But that doesn't mean he can just say what he wants. In the end, I still have a say in all this." You sigh, resting your chin in your hand and drumming your fingers against your cheek. Jean awkwardly gave a nervous and apologetic smile as the waitress returns with your coffee. "Do I need to beat this guy?" He said, bringing his voice to a low growl. You shake your head and sigh again. "Nah, it's not worth it." You say, looking at the clock. "Anyway, we should both get home. You have work and I have a wedding." You said, using your fingers to quote the word 'wedding'.
He stood up as well, tilting his head slightly. "Wait wait wait- did you guys even have a rehearsal reception?" He said, narrowing his eyes in confusion. "Nope- but my parents are shoving it onto me faster than they would drop a sweltering hot pot." You mutter, grabbing your coffee and standing, giving Jean a tired smile as he looked at you empathetically. 
"Anyway, say hi to Mikasa for me." You say, before giving him a small hug. As you walked out of the cafe, you couldn't help but feel disappointed with the outcome of the whole situation. 


Hours later, you had returned to your apartment, and proceeded to raid your liquor cabinet. Within minutes, you were drunk as a skunk, and you had to squint at the TV just so it didn't look like a swirling mess. Your phone vibrated on the coffee table, but you were oblivious to it as your dunk mind tried to comprehend just what was happening on whatever episode of 'Family Guy' that just so happened to be on. 
You loathed the idea of getting married to that annoying freak- loathed it enough to break out an old bottle of gin you swore you wouldn't touch. 

Taking another sip from your glass, you giggled ridiculously at the antics unfolding on your television screen. You were so drunk someone could sneeze and it would be funny.  You almost thought you heard Levi's voice on the other side of the door, but that was absurd. You didn't tell him where you lived, and he surely didn't care enough to find out. As another giggle bubbled up from your throat, you slumped against the back of the couch, the now empty glass slipping from your fingers as you began to drift off, unaware of the lock turning to your front door. 

Try (-modern- Levi x reader)Dove le storie prendono vita. Scoprilo ora