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stilemawillow · 3 years

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MTIJ | Ch.9 Arguments, Badasses and Oblivious Me

|mtij masterlist|

pairing: levi ackerman x reader (eren jaeger x reader)

word count: 4.4k

summary: a girl with a variety of hidden complexes has to live with a french asshole for nine months. easy? on the surface. problematic? definitely. romantic? not too much, or at least they’d make it a point to say so everytime when asked. the end? please, their dynamic isn’t as simple as that.

"Explanation or should I slap you already?" That was the very first thing Rolland Raven told me the moment our gazes clashed once I'd settled with defeat and made my way downstairs.

His expression was stern and we were packing a whole audience over his shoulder - my mother and aunt Petunia were sipping on wine and spying on us from the corner of their eye, uncle Jared was stealing occasional glances with his fingers intertwined and his whiskey untouched, George's thumb had halted amidst scrolling down his phone and the intern was listening almost as intently as he was visibly observing. Our eyes locked and he could see my constipated expression - I wondered whether he took indirect pleasure in observing it, taking into account I was as big of a pain in his ass as he was in mine.

"You know you wouldn't hit me, the last time you did it I was seven." The statement was confident and steady but not exactly loud - still, perfectly audible to his ears, which made his brows furrow more if possible. The small wrinkles he adored fretting over appeared between them and, judging solely by his stance, I knew he wasn't entirely serious about this. I could bet he was angrier over the fact I'd almost done the frickle-frack on his couch rather than the fact I'd supposedly cheated on my fiancé and nearly ruined his farce. Having said that, now would usually be the perfect moment to blow up in his face and reveal to the whole kitchen the truth. Except I'd promised myself I'd keep it going no matter how much it humiliated and exasperated me.

"Since you remember, it must've been a good one. I assume you don't want another one, so explain yourself." His crossed arms were a big enough red flag but the incinerating stare didn't feel as intimidating as usual. And then I realised everybody could see his profile as well as they could see mine - had this been an actual argument, he would've scolded and sent me away without letting me explain myself. He would've cussed, monologued and glared all the way to hell, and then he would've come back just to glare once more before returning to his paperwork. He was just playing along to a script nobody could see, like me and his intern and my mother. Only so we could be victorious. How unfunnily ridiculous was that?

"I invited Eren, forgot everybody would be coming home earlier and was caught." The summary was short and sweet - a perfect resume to give our audience exactly what they'd seen and him - the truth in all its simple glory. To his question of whether I had an excuse or not, I shook my head, remembered he hated me being non-vocal and said a quick 'no' but never fully bowed my head in shame. Because, acting the part of the broken-hearted cheating fiancé or not, I wasn't ashamed of my actions - if anything I was ashamed my father's intern got to see my bra less than a week into his stay but that was something I'd generously omit in front of my stricter parent.

"Go to your room and find a proper way to apologise to Levi. I like to believe you're still as innocent as you were when you were five, so if you make another mistake you'll be grounded for life. Am I clear?" I nodded at his reproachful gaze - no shit he was a goddamn branch manager in a giant organisation, he could guilt-trip his subordinates with just a single look. When he kept rubbing salt into a wound that wasn't there, though, I knew he did it because of two reasons: for pleasure and for drama. "You're not having dinner. Dismissed." I complied and quickly made my way up the stairs, closing my door behind me and angrily punching my pillow whilst swearing to every god in existence I'd be doing my father no more favours after this.

After getting over my own dramatic ass, I got up and moved to the door, deciding to, very slyly, eavesdrop to whatever conversation they'd be having downstairs, except my hearing wasn't enough to catch and separate the words and nobody was really screaming to make it easier for me. I could hear my father's imperative tone state muffled incoherencies, then my aunt's gasp and consequent high-pitched voice. It was like beads on a string, one after the other: my uncle, my aunt (an argument judging by the tone), my mother, my father (defence and indignation), my uncle (reproach and mockery), George and then - my father's intern very fakely coughing.

I couldn't distinguish his words but his timbre was low and husky - almost scary, almost aggressive in a way. He spoke longer than I'd heard him speak since his arrival, then George tried to get a wobbly word in only to be dominated and quite possibly threatened - I wondered what the heck was going on and then it occurred to me they might've been arguing. Maybe on the topic of me. Not to be conceited but I was hitting all the spotlights today.

What followed was a quick string of uncle Jared's imperative voice, George's mumbling and my mother and father, evidently having assumed a more placid tone, playing peace-makers aside from in-laws. When everything quieted down I could only guess they'd began eating and thus, would derive me from the drama and loud screaming I so longed to listen to. Without anything else to do, I plopped back down on my bed in a starfish position prior to remembering something - namely, the existence of my phone which enabled a number of things: texting my boyfriend, calling my best friend, reading or simply scrolling through memes I would do nothing but snort through my nose at.

I'd spent about an hour doing all four when a knock sounded at my door. I gave absentminded permission to whoever the intruder was, reacting to Eren's poor taste in sex jokes with cringy emojis, and watched my father's raven-haired intern enter with a tray in his hands. He brought it over to my lifeless form and put it on my nightstand as I propped on my elbows to scan its contents - a plate of the still-warm dinner they'd been having. There was probably drool at the corner of my mouth since I hadn't had anything after the spaghetti I made for Eren.

I was about to thank the intern when my mind decided I was in the mood to be suspicious, contrary to blindly grateful - so I asked him what this was, as in, what had prompted its presence on my nightstand and why he had to be the waiter to get it to me. Obviously, it was the backdoor to my half-assed punishment, but I was curious as to know who'd given the initial order. The intern, however, mistook my words for dumbassery and decided to sass me instead of answer.

"It's obviously food, princess. Eat." His arms were crossed and his glare was impenetrable like a fortress, I put my phone away and asked whether he'd snuck it out for me, to which I received no answer whatsoever - only more silence and the additional hardening of his glare. In my role of somebody who couldn't hold their curiosity like a sixteen-year-old who couldn't hold their illegal liquor, I kept pestering him with questions when something inside of me knew I wouldn't be graced with an answer. Then he spoke, avoiding the topic I was pushing. "Since I'll be leaving with your father, I'll sleep downstairs for the rest of the week and then go back to my appointed room."

Funny how he said 'appointed' instead of just leaving it at 'my'. He didn't accept this house as his home and his property, just like I was a bit reluctant to accept him living here till the end of the year. I watched him glance at the sleeping bag he was originally supposed to occupy and turn on his heel with the intention to exit my room. And, however much I'd wanted to be overjoyed by his statement, something with his attitude didn't sit right with me.

"Why the sudden change of heart? You seemed fine with spending the week in my room yesterday." My voice made him stop just as his hand had reached for the door handle. I couldn't wrap my mind around the abrupt shift of his demeanour - he had said himself he didn't hate me per se and he could live with the idea of residing in the same space. Then what was the problem now? This guy's mind was a mystery to me and, I feared, it always would be.

"My choices are mine to make. We won't annoy each other that way." His biceps were flexing when he turned around and glared at me but even his muscles couldn't distract me from what he'd just said. Curt and straight to the point - then why did I feel he was straying from it altogether? I couldn't put my finger on it but I didn't have a good feeling about this conversation and the intern's way of handling our current interaction went to prove he wanted to get it over with as quickly as possible.

"I hope you're not doing this because of me." The Raven's way was to never, under any circumstances, express your ideas in the form of an insecurity or a question - so assuming was the safest option for me to choose here. Naturally, when I was dealing with a literal enigma, it was a bit harder to guess what would push his buttons in a way that would consequently make the truth come out. This, as I learned a second later, wasn't it.

"Don't flatter yourself." His retort was cold and derisive and his stance was hostile - I didn't think I was imagining things but he wasn't this mean when we first met. Maybe he was having his guy period or something had forced him to act like this. I didn't see anything disingenuine about it, though. Maybe it was exactly what stung my pride a bit, enough for me to begin talking of the brief moment of our truce before we were forced into playing fiancés only to get cut off by the sharpest voice imaginable. "This is how it's going to go: I say I'll sleep on the couch and you keep your mouth shut. I don't care what we've said two days ago."

"Why are you so annoyed? Did I do something?" And here I went fucking with the Raven's manipulative ways. My puzzlement was growing and so was his exasperation - on the other side, his patience seemed to have thinned out to the point it was wide as a single hair and - what a surprise - I'd just made it snap.

"Yeah, besides the fact you're unbearable, you got us into trouble by getting caught with Jaeger. Not to mention you'll probably find other fun ways of fucking things up even more." He spat, making my eyes widen in simultaneous shock and anger. This wasn't how I'd thought this conversation would go but with the fact he'd had the audacity to insult me when I'd done nothing wrong, there was no going back. He was straight-up challenging me and while I did take the bait, I was also determined to hand him his fucking ass on a platter.

"First off, you're nobody to blame me for being with my boyfriend. Second, don't call me unbearable as if you're better. And third, don't you fucking dare get ahead of yourself to the point of insulting me. I'm not the only one at fault for this." In my own eyes, I wasn't. Because my father had started this game of charades and because he insisted that I kept it going. It would hit him pretty hard if he learned I was very close to snapping and calling it quits with how his intern was acting.

"Really? Because I don't remember being the one to act like a bitch in heat earlier today. If you'd been able to handle your stupid hormones this could've been avoided." Said intern only rolled his eyes and clicked his tongue in exasperation, his patience was done for and so was my tolerance when it came to his nerve. Being handsome, privileged and my father's intern didn't give him the right to call me a bitch in heat - much less get away with it. I could tell my father about this right now.

Will he believe? Will he really take your side? He's getting labour he doesn't have to pay for from this guy. And what are you? His daughter? Taking into account the last time he told you he loved you, it's pretty clear who he'd choose. There was that annoying voice in my head again - it was mine but colder and more condescending and I would soon learn that I wouldn't be able to get rid of it for the following few months to come. The sudden backlash I received from my own mind was enough to make me give up on the idea of tattling but also more than enough to enrage me further.

"You're such an asshole, you've got a gift for making accusations and a superiority complex? Why didn't you just become a lawyer?" I was sneering at the ebony-haired guy and to say the brief twitch of his brow was a priceless change in his statue-like frown wouldn't be a lie at all, if anything it was what put the additional pinch of spite in my final sentence. "I could've spared myself the energy of telling you to fuck off and get out of my room right now."

He watched me a second longer - the deadly glare and the furrowed brows, and I saw his jaw clenched as he faced the door once more and quietly took his leave. I had the last word and it was supposed to be satisfactory, instead, I became furious. I was punching my pillow and cursing and it didn't feel any better because this man was the only one who could get me this far off the rails when it came to my composure. I didn't like that, in fact, I hated it entirely. It took me five whole minutes to tire myself out, then I begrudgingly took the tray that had started this whole fiasco and spitefully began eating in order to satisfy my grumbling stomach.

When I was done, I took my renewed anger out on the sleeping bag on the floor and proceeded to text Annie as to inform her of the newest drama occurring. Somewhere around midnight, I fell asleep and the phone next to my ear woke me up with its alarm and startled me to the point I sat up in my bed. I blinked a few times to chase away the drowsiness I felt and literally crawled over to my bedroom door before standing up and making my way into the bathroom. My reflection in the mirror told me I was ugly and I settled with nodding in agreement prior to making myself look a bit less ugly by wiping my drool off my chin, combing my hair and washing my face with cold water so the puffiness around my eyes could go away.

On my way back to my room, I glanced at the door neighbouring mine - George was probably still snoring inside, whereas I could bet uncle Jared and aunt Petunia were awake in the guest room down the hall. I put on a casual outfit and headed down the stairs to make myself a coffee so I could leave as fast as possible in order to avoid my father's intern, who was most likely in the kitchen. It hit me as a surprise that, no, he wasn't - and in the place I'd expected for him to stand were the elder Raven brothers.

I glanced at the couch - the ebony-haired intern's hair was messy against the cushion and his body was covered by a thin baby blue blanket. Putting the smallest amount of consideration into the fact he was still asleep, I headed for the coffee machine and greeted my father and uncle, to which one responded accordingly and the other went straight down to business - as expected.

"Why is Levi on the couch?" To my father's question, I bit the inside of my cheek and thanked the gods for being turned away from him. I pressed the 'on' button of the coffee machine after putting in the settings I needed and proceeded to briefly contemplate the inquiry. Because of a misunderstanding? Because he was acting unreasonably rude and I'd responded with the same? Because he was a stubborn pain in the ass?

"He said we needed some space and sleeping in the same bed wasn't that so he settled on the couch. We argued when I tried to stop him but it didn't work." My explanation sounded plausible, not to mention very close to the truth - at least the part about the argument. It sounded to them like a lovers' quarrel contrary to what it had been - namely, a fierce squabble between a rich businessman's daughter and her father's intern. I took my coffee when the machine beeped and seated myself next to my uncle so I could avoid my father's suspicious gaze.

"The kids know what they're doing, Watson." Uncle Jared put a steady hand to my shoulder and addressed my father with a self-assured grin, to which the younger brother only glared.

"I've told you not to call me that in front of my daughter." He scoffed, to which his older brother only laughed. I could see the silver strands lining his hair but in that moment he almost seemed like a very carefree teenager mocking his sibling for being lame.

I'd been told stories regarding the nickname when uncle Jared had babysat me before - how the two brothers would be joined at the hip all throughout their childhood and they'd roam their neighbourhood, pretending to be Sherlock Holmes and John Watson, solving crimes. Admittedly, the crimes were limited to deciphering a street cat's death or retrieving missing vegetables and fruits from small shops but they'd regarded their roles seriously. My father, being the stronger, more outspoken one, would be Watson and my uncle, with his immaculate wits and reserved nature, would be Holmes.

"Come on, Rol, you know you love it. You can call me Sherlock if you'd like." Uncle Jared's smirk made my father snort as he glared at him - (e/c) clashed with (e/c) and I pursed my lips at the incoming brothers' quarrel, my father would kill me if I laughed out loud, I was sure.

"You don't deserve being called Sherlock, Jared. I still remember you going around and preaching: 'Don't try to be smart, Rol, I'm the smart one.'" The younger brother imitated the other's voice but the latter wasn't offended in the least - he just kept smirking haughtily at the reaction he was getting. Uncle Jared was the only person who could annoy my father this casually and still entertain him without particularly wounding his pride. There were moments when he'd sulked but I'd only heard about them from my mother, the businessman himself wouldn't allow himself such weakness in front of me.

"That's because I am the smart one." The cocky retort made my father scoff once more with a roll of his eyes and a supposedly nonchalant 'whatever', almost like he meant to say that he was the more mature one between the two of them so he would step back. Except all three of us sitting at the counter knew very well he'd just lost the fight and he had nothing smart to say - uncle Jared had always been better when it came to words. My father gave me a deadly glare when I let out a halting chuckle but I could see the upturned corner of his mouth and I knew he was in a good mood.

"I'll be going now. Can I have the car keys?" To my question, he responded with one of his own - whether I'd be capable of keeping it safe, and when I confirmed that yes, I'd done it for a few months now so I was confident I could handle it now as well, he only huffed and got up in order to grab the Audi keys from the small bowl by the door. Uncle Jared ushered me towards the garage door and I put on my shoes prior to arming myself with my backpack. I furrowed my brows at the two brothers conspiring through me - one opened the door and the other followed me into the garage - it was weird that they'd want to escort me just to watch the Audi drive off but I dismissed it as a whim borne of their good mood.

Less than thirty seconds later, I was standing next to the Audi when I noticed neither of them was next to me - and my father still hadn't given me the keys. Upon turning back to call for them, my jaw went slack because my father, the almighty Rolland Raven, stood by his Jaguar F-TYPE Coupe with the keys in his hand. Uncle Jared was leaning against the car's slick surface with a smirk on his face - I wondered if this was a dream in that moment and if not, whether they were pranking me as they sometimes did.

"You missed the target, cupcake." Uncle Jared's taunt made me stare at the pair in shock as I recognised but completely chose to deny the implication they were making.

"I never said I meant the Audi." My father's words were, wherever I chose to look at it from, something I'd never thought I'd hear. I closed my mouth upon realising I was gaping and then I beamed at them - my father confirming his intentions meant this wasn't a prank. I approached them and cautiously eyed the car with stars in my eyes.

"Are you seriously letting me drive your Jaguar?" The question wasn't a question per se, it was more of an exclamation of disbelief with a question mark at the end and it made both adults before me smile; I was almost sure I was dreaming when my father opened the driver seat's door for me and my uncle very dramatically bowed whilst gesturing for me to get in like one would do before a princess about to enter a carriage.

"Well, if you want the Audi instead---"

"No, no, no, this is... unbelievable. I mean thank you!" My gratitude was followed by a soundless inquiry in my father's direction, to which he said yes and I was officially allowed to hug him. Throwing my arms around his neck, I caught a whiff of the cologne he'd worn since I remembered him, along with the scent of ink that always clung to his skin no matter the time. (E/c) clashed with (e/c) when he let go of me - every Raven had those eyes and suddenly I felt very attached to them despite never having considered them a superb colour. "You know what I want to say." The utterance made my father chuckle as he patted my head.

"I do. No refunds, the transaction is done, princess." His smile was big and bright and I grinned at the old code we'd set up for ourselves. My father rarely told me he loved me but when he did this was the phrase he used to convey it. No refunds meant I couldn't take it back and the transaction being done translated into the fact he loved me too. The 'princess' at the end brought memories of my childhood to the surface of my mind - on the rare occasions he got back home in a good mood he'd spin me around till his waist began protesting and he'd still laugh while doing it. He'd make my homework into a fairy tale, so I could do it with more enthusiasm, and he'd tuck me in as often as he could.

So that's why you hate it when the intern calls you the same. Not because he's calling you spoiled or bratty, but because it makes you remember the good old times. The intrusive voice in my head analysed calmly, the slightest bits of mocking. I brushed it off and took the keys from my father's palm with a grateful nod.

"I suggest parking somewhere everybody will look at it." Uncle Jared piped enthusiastically, making me laugh - I didn't really need to flaunt the fact I was pampered but I had to admit this was a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity.

"Take it as an apology." The short phrase from my father's lips made my eyes widen briefly - but, of course, there would be a reason for this generosity. Still, I was thankful for the fact he'd put any effort at all into relating he wasn't indifferent to the trouble he'd dragged me into. If anything, I was actually moved.

"I'll fix everything, promise. You haven't raised a wuss." My smirk matched that of my uncle as I got into the driver's seat and watched my father direct a pointed look at his older brother. Uncle Jared stared back, awaiting something he very well knew would come. Namely, a subtle insult.

"Contrary to some other people present." The brothers weren't glaring - they were having fun and I was almost sure this had put a start to the blame game our whole family adored playing.

"I have no hand in my son's upbringing - that's all Petunia." Uncle Jared lifted his hands in defence, my father chuckled and if their wives were present at the scene they'd probably slap them over the heads with something. Their further retorts became muffled when I closed the car door and started the engine; in less than a minute I was driving down the street, watching them stand by the garage door and wave after me. The sight of their smiling faces in the rearview mirror made me grin at the road ahead - this single ten-minute interaction had given me enough energy to pull through the rest of this play, not to mention it reminded me why I loved my family so much. Weird for an angsty teenager, I knew.

tag list: @unloved-cadillac

#mtij #levi x reader #levi ackerman x reader #levi ackerman fanfiction #reader insert #imagine me being fucking dumb #and having to delete over 1k words of this chapter #because it's inconsistent with my future writing style #i almost cried twice #but it's material for the levi pov so hey #who am i to complain #anyway #it's still cringe #we're setting up the big stuff ig #bear with me

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