Author's Note: hory shiet, I'm on a roll with Jean one shots. I have a thousand and one ideas for him. Jk, no I don't. But I got this idea from a prompt I just saw and I was like adsklflsdjf I NEED TO WRITE NOW. So anyways, this is AU. Jean and his dumb shirts hahah enjoy! Little tiny surprises within here.

This switches perspectives, be aware.

Word count: 4329

***

Spring.

It was the season filled with blooming beauty, a season full of life and color. Spring was perfect for reading outside and catching some light sun rays, a perfect time to slow down and marvel at the surroundings of nature at its finest. The private university's grounds were scattered with dozens of young adults lounging on the grass and attending to their assignments diligently all while a soft breeze kept the air clean to their lungs and cool on their skin.

There was one young man sitting alone at a table among a cluster of trees, rapt into his rather worn out book. Although there were a pair of headphones situated in his ears, no music played in them; the man used them solely for the purpose of deceiving others into thinking he was too preoccupied to be interrupted and that he would not hear them if they were to call out to him.

He was the epitome of the current era's "trend" with his two toned hair in a stylish cut, a simple T-shirt, a plaid button down tied around his waist, and thick rimmed glasses that he did not need because his eyesight was perfect. He was relatively popular among the female population of the university, as his charm and strong, handsome features did not go unnoticed. Though he enjoyed the attention as much as the next man, he was not particularly interested in anyone who conveyed their attraction to him, formally or otherwise.

With a satisfied sigh, Jean closed his most beloved book. He had already read it, and the others prior to this one in the series, several times over. In fact, he had memorized his most favorite scenes unintentionally and like every other time he finished the series before, he felt the familiar wave of an existential crisis crest over him. Usually, he only felt such a crisis upon exiting a movie theater and watched an epic film. However, reading these books always made him reevaluate his morals and question what was important to his own life.

This series of dystopian society fiction was without a doubt his favorite. In truth, Jean was not an avid reader; he never had been. His parents would practically bribe him with money to just read a single book in his younger days but he never did. Video games, outdoor activities, and chasing skirts were always more his forte. Reading, at the time, demanded too much mental capacity and required him to sit still for long periods of time before he could find any interest in the plot or characters. He couldn't remember exactly how he managed to find these books, as it had not been recommended to him by anyone but its plot and character development were, without a doubt, engaging.

It upset him personally that so few people knew of the series, but he had an inkling that it would take off soon enough. Dystopian and apocalyptic society movies and books were all the rage at the moment, and Jean was positive that this series would skyrocket. Between the giant, humanoid monsters threatening humanity to the brink of extinction by eating them, to the creativity of the weapons used to defeat them in the human army, to the relatable characters and beyond, there simply was no way that this series wouldn't be popular.

Jean's friends always said he has a bit of an obsession with the books but if he were asked directly, he would deny the allegations to protect his injured pride. He would only say he was impressed at the author's imagination to come up with such a fascinating read, let alone her ability to flesh it out into several novels. Writing, after all, was essentially a long-term commitment and quite a serious endeavor to undertake.

He glanced down at the cover. Attack on Titan by (Your full name), he thought to himself. He had read the title a thousand times before but it still produced a slight smile every time. After another brief moment, he tenderly tucked the book away in his backpack, along with his headphones.

He had reread all five books again for a single reason.

Jean was going to (your full name)'s book signing the following day and he wanted to refresh his mind of the world she created so far. Supposedly, there were three more books left to be published to finish off the story and Jean had hundreds of questions about how she was going to end the series. Not that he thought he had a chance to ask her anything of it while at the signing.

She was still a relatively unknown author, only having one other fiction novel published before this one, but she was picking up enough fans to hold a signing. Upon learning this through her Twitter account, Jean leapt at the chance to get his book signed by her.

He could not believe his luck; the book signing was being held at the shopping mall a few blocks away from his school just after his only class for the day finished. Everything lined up perfectly, as if it was all meant to work out in his favor.

Tranquil silence passed before he pulled out his phone from his pocket. He clicked the power button so that the lock screen would appear and he gazed at the background quietly.

Admittedly, he also had a bit of a crush on the author herself, as he thought her very attractive. He did truly love the series but when he had searched her up on the internet out of curiosity, he had been pleasantly surprised to find such a pretty, young girl appear before him. Not only that, she lived within the general area of the university too.

Perhaps it was a mild obsession, but Jean would never admit to that. The more he researched her, the more his infatuation grew for the author. True, as of now, there wasn't much to learn of her; she did post regularly on her fan page on Facebook, her Instagram, and other media outlets but nothing revealed much about her background or personal life.

"You look like you're gonna make out with your phone," said a voice to his right. Jean glanced over and caught Eren laughing at his expense.

"Kiss my ass, bro," snapped Jean. He turned off his screen and glared at the brunette boy taking a seat across from him. Jean was embarrassed for having been caught in a less than perfect image, especially by Eren, but he could do little for his case now. It hardly mattered in the long run though. Eren was one of Jean's housemates and has known about Jean's strange fixation for an extended amount of time. The whole house knew.

A pair of amused, emerald eyes bore into Jean's causing the latter to shift uncomfortably in his seat.

"What?" Jean grumbled.

"Nothing." Eren's reply was nonchalant but his wry smile was beginning to irritate Jean. "So, that book signing thing is tomorrow, right?"

"Yeah, what of it?" asked Jean.

Eren shrugged. "Just curious," he said. Jean held a wary expression, unconvinced at Eren's vague statement. "...what do you even expect to happen anyways?"

"That I get my book signed, obviously," was Jean's rather curt reply. "Why do you care?"

The other young man briefly chuckled. "I don't, horseface," he said simply. He grinned but Jean could feel the mockery laced in his words and hidden behind the smile. Jean absolutely hated the derogatory name Eren had bestowed upon him. Jean had no idea how his face looked like a horse but Eren never called him anything else and unfortunately, the name was beginning to get around. On Eren's end, he enjoyed goading his counterpart at every presentable opportunity merely for the fact that Jean's reactions were usually excessive.

"Shut up, man." Jean's temper flared, as it always did whenever Eren had anything to say to him. "You don't even know, okay? So what if I want to go to a book signing? It's a damn good series. And it ain't hurting anyone."

Eren rolled his eyes with a skeptical tone. "Yeah right. You're just going for the girl."

A faint shade of red dusted over Jean's cheeks and ears but he did his best to brush off the statement. "Whatever. Believe whatever you want, bro, but it ain't like that."

"Either way, you're a huge dweeb to go to some book signing by a girl who isn't even that big of a celebrity," countered Eren breezily. "Just saying."

Jean stood up in a fit of anger, having just about enough of the conversation. He picked up his backpack and slung it over his shoulder. "You're fuckin' annoying," Jean spat. "And I've got class..."

He turned away and trudged off across the university's grounds, leaving Eren laughing quietly to himself at the table. Jean didn't have his next class for at least another hour or so and Eren knew that. Jean, however, did not appreciate being called a "dweeb," as he never found himself as such.

Whatever, I don't care what he thinks...

***

A helpless groan escaped your lips.

You were peeking through the curtains that hid you from a throng of excited fans. The line that began a ways off from your signing table was growing by the minute, and although there were ropes to create a small maze within the bookstore, the signing line was still out the door.

"I was not expecting so many people to show up," you said quietly. You turned your desperate gaze to the short, stern-faced man beside you, who was staring pointedly at his smartphone. Your look went unnoticed by him but he did click his tongue in annoyance, either because of what you said or because of something on his phone that you were unaware of. You did not know which one, but you could only assume that it was you.

"Stop whining," he said apathetically. "Sales are picking up, so of course you're going to have all these little shits clamoring to get their books autographed."

"I know..." you sighed, returning your gaze out to the line of people. "It's just...I'm kind of nervous. I don't know what they're expecting of me."

Your agent did not respond immediately and though you knew you were irritating him with your griping, you hoped he would ease your anxiety.

"Levi?" You were hesitant to pull him away from his business on his phone, but you stared at the suited man timidly. "Please say something."

"They're expecting you to sign their books, brat," he sighed, his grey eyes piercing into yours. "What the hell you think they're here for? A burrito?"

Harsh, as usual.

Despite the acidity in his tone, you knew Levi genuinely cared for your well being and career as an author. Your father had been devoid from your life and Levi was an old family friend of your mother, Petra. From a young age, Levi took it upon himself to almost become a father figure to you, as he had no wife or children of his own. However, if you were to ask him, Levi would claim he was your "asshole uncle" since he felt that suited him more. Either way, your mother always painted Levi in an admirable light and demanded her only child to respect him as such.

You did, of course because if it weren't for him, you probably would have never found your passion for reading and, in turn, writing. He had been a literary agent for as long as you could remember and he would frequently visit your home to drop off new books for you that he helped an author publish. Levi had a knack for picking out the gems among the "shitty hordes of trash and scrawl," which what he usually called manuscripts he received from aspiring authors.

He was a brilliant agent. He always got you the royalties you deserved for your books, and never took a percentage out of it like was supposed to. You had tried to offer it to him, but he refused on the account of knowing you since you were born.

Presently, Levi was talking to the bookstore's manager who was giving updates on the line and other trivial items of note. You, however, were more enthralled with the types of people that were gathering in the store. In all honesty, you were surprised to find such a variety of readers, especially finding an older gentleman near the front of the line with greying hair. There were teenagers, tweens, college kids, matured adults...and all of them appearing from varying ends of the financial ladder.

Your eyes continued down the line, completely fascinated. Towards the store's front doors, you felt yourself do a double take.

There was a relatively tall young man standing in between a group of girls, all of whom were secretively ogling him. He, however, seemed to be oblivious to the attention he was attracting because his gaze was completely fixed at the signing table that you would be approaching soon. Even from this distance, you knew that he had a handsome face, despite it being hidden somewhat by his glasses. You ventured a mental guess that he probably was in college, perhaps even close to your age based on how young he looked. He had interesting hair; it was reminiscent to a champagne color at the top where his hair was longer, and the rest of his head was in a buzz cut and appeared to be dark brown or black in color.

One of girls clearly gathered her courage and began to talk to him, but he did not appear very interested in making small talk at all. The young women around him either looked put out or put off by his rebuff and for some reason, a very tiny smile tugged at the corner of your lips.

"Fifteen minutes," relayed Levi to you, but you barely registered it. "Ready?"

You were squinting, trying to make out the text across the attractive guy's shirt. Unfortunately, you could not read it as he was too far back in the line and his red zip-up sweatshirt was covering part of the words. After a second, he turned to address the girls once more and the back of his hoodie displayed a large emblem of the nearby university. You knew the college, of course, as you had dropped out of it voluntarily the year prior to focus on your promising writing career.

He lives around here then, you mused.

A painful sensation bloomed at your temple and you yelped. You turned to find Levi lowering his hand and you realized he had just flicked you across the head.

"What the hell are you starin' at?" he snapped, pushing aside the curtain in an attempt to glare at whatever captured your attention. Levi scoffed after a moment and let the cloth fall back again.

You were rubbing your temple tenderly; he did not have to flick so hard.

"Let me guess," said your agent. His visage was expressionless, as it always was, but you knew this man long enough to know that irritation was shading his eyes. "That pretty boy with weird ass hair."

"What?" you exclaimed with an uneasy smile. "He's cute."

"He looks like a twat." Levi had said it with such finality you could only burst out laughing.

"Levi!" you said, trying to rein in your amusement. You felt a little guilty, as that college kid had no idea he was being berated behind the curtain, but you were grateful nonetheless for Levi's rather abrasive way of protecting you.

"And what the fuck is wrong with his hair? Did he dunk half his head in a bucket of bleach and then have second thoughts?"

You continued laughing at the expense of the young man in line. "I think it looks cool, actually."

The manager of the store returned before your agent could say anything else. With a nod to you both, you knew it was time for you to meet your fans. Your heart leapt to your throat once more now that reality hit you; your nerves made a strange sensation equivalent to that of butterflies in your stomach. Levi noticed your growing panic and handed you a bottle of water to drink from before stepping out.

The next few minutes were a blur.

Within the moment of your appearance, the general chatter in the store exploded into a cacophonous bedlam. You could hear your name being called urgently while others were practically howling at the sight of you. You knew you must have had the most shy grin on your face while you waved at the line, flashes from cameras were blinding you while others were snapping pictures of you with their phones.

It was absolute chaos, and you had no idea why. It was not like you were a celebrity, by any means. You never considered yourself an exemplary writer, not by a long shot. You idolized the big names within the writing world and strove to write as well as them but to see people have a conniption fit at the sight of you was bizarre.

You couldn't remember when you sat down with Levi standing ominously behind you, to begin the signings. Between autographs, pictures, selfies, and bestowed praise, you were completely stunned. Many of them came bearing small gifts and handmade items for you, to which you accepted with all the appreciation you could muster. But all of them came to your table with compliments and adoration for your characters.

"My favorite is Rivaille!! He is so cool!" so many of them told you, or variations of the phrase and every time you grinned up at them.

"Actually, the guy behind me is who the character is based off of. He's the real life Rivaille," you told them, to which Levi would pretend he didn't hear the conversation or remain apathetic to the girls' squealing about how handsome he was. You were speaking truth, of course, but you enjoyed making Levi uncomfortable, even if he didn't show it outwardly.

You weren't sure how long time passed, but you were covertly keeping an eye on the college guy you were eyeballing earlier. Admittedly, you hurried through some of the autographs so that he would progress faster through the line. You noticed that he appeared to have come alone, as he wasn't engaging in much conversation with anyone around him. In fact, every time you would look, his amber eyes were fixed on you; it was as if he had blinders on and the only thing he could see was your figure behind the portable desk, signing away.

Each time you caught his gaze, you felt the back of your neck begin to heat up in embarrassment. The closer he got, the more you realized how handsome he was.

You hand was beginning to cramp slightly but you didn't want to ask for a ten minute break until you had signed that guy's book. You were determined, for your own selfish desires to see his face up close, to make it happen as fast as you could. Initially, you were keeping track in your mind about how many autographs you finished only to realize that Levi was tallying diligently behind you. Losing count at around forty-nine books, you assumed that "Pretty Boy" would be somewhere within the seventy to eighty range.

Levi noticed your attention was slowly shifting from your fans to the two-toned hair kid. Your agent resisted the urge to smack the back of your head in irritation, knowing it would affect your appearance, but how he wished you both were behind the curtain.

After minimal internal debate, he leaned over while you were taking a drink from your water bottle. "Focus, goddammit," he whispered in your ear. "I know you have raging hormones and all but imagine him nailing you on your own time."

You choked, nearly sloshing water all over your front. There was a young couple standing before you with earnest eyes. Upon your sudden gasping, they frantically asked if you were feeling okay.

"Ah, sorry!" you coughed while attempting to smile brightly. "Went down the wrong pipe."

You made a mental note to punch Levi in the arm later.

Finally, after eighty-seven autographs and pictures, "Pretty Boy" was standing at the front of the line. For whatever reason you could not fathom, your heart was pounding violently within the cavity of your chest again. He really was incredibly handsome. It wasn't even fair for someone to have looks like that.

"Next!!" snapped Levi as an older woman left the table, clutching her signed book as if it were a lifeline.

"Pretty Boy" stood rooted to the spot for a moment, his eyes locked with yours. You noticed his face was starting to grow red once he finally realized he could approach you. It was clear he was nervous, and his behavior was making you shy.

Now that he was close enough, you read his shirt in interest. You would have laughed at the text if it had been any other situation because it seemed so like him, even though you knew nothing about this man. I'm not perfect. I'm limited edition.

Once he was standing before you, you lifted up a bashful smile at him. By now, his skin was completely flushed and he was gritting his teeth. You could only assume he was gathering up his courage to speak, as plenty of other fans had reacted similarly once they were within arm's length of you.

"I-I really love you!" he blurted out while he practically slammed his book down on the table. Your breath hitched in your throat at this admission.

"Good lord..." scoffed Levi quietly but you ignored him.

The young man shook his head vehemently, mentally cursing himself. "N-no, that's not what I mean," he said hastily. "I meant that I really love this series and that I'm your number one fan! Please keep writing!! I can't wait for the next book!"

You weren't sure why he was nearly shouting at you but you found his starstruck behavior extremely endearing. He was thoroughly embarrassed at his reaction to you but he knew that he couldn't take it back.

Chuckling briefly, you reached out for his worn book. "Thank you for your kind words," you replied with a very sincere tone. "What was your name?"

You hadn't really been personalizing much of the autographs, but you wanted to make sure you did with him and you did not care if anyone complained about it later.

"Jean," he said in a still trembling voice. "My name is Jean."

You flashed him another grin; Jean did not seem like the type to get flustered easily, especially with women, but here he was...stammering and blushing like crazy in front of you, of all people.

"It's nice to meet you, Jean," you replied, turning your attention to a withered page.

You quickly scribbled down a message and signed your name, aware that Levi was hovering over your shoulder. After he read it, you heard him mumble something incoherent but it was clear that he was annoyed with you yet again.

It was a brash decision, of course, but more often than not, you were not brazen in regards to anything. Your mother was always telling you that you should be more bold with your life; she was very much a "live life to the fullest" kind of woman, and you always admired that about her.

You closed the book gently and handed it back to Jean. He took it, handling it gingerly as if it was the most fragile object in the world.

"Thank you for supporting me, Jean," you said, ignoring your own faintly blushing cheeks. "Fans like you are closest to my heart."

Jean finally found it in himself to let a broad grin form at his lips. He couldn't believe it; you were as perfect as he imagined you to be. "You really are amazing, (your name)! Thank you!"

"Oh jeezus, next!!" called Levi before you could reply; he had just about enough of you and your fascination with Jean.

Jean glanced at Levi for a moment, not the slightest bit put out that he didn't get to take a picture with you, and nodded. "Thanks again!"

He hurried off and you turned your gaze to the group of girls that had been behind Jean the entire way through the line. They were gushing about your book and asked if you wanted a movie deal, but you hardly managed to answer because your attention was still not focused on them.

Jean had moved over to an empty area of the store, but still within your line of sight, and opened up the hardback cover to the first page.

You feigned interest with the girls in front of you, secretly gazing at Jean while he read what you wrote in his book. Within two seconds, he looked up quickly and held an astonished gaze even though you were pretending not to look. You couldn't help but grin because you enjoyed Jean's reaction so much.

"You're kidding right?"

Levi was leaning over, grumbling in your ear again but your gaze was fixed on the triumphant expression that Jean was flashing you from across the room. You laughed lightly and decided not to say anything at all.

Jean,

Thank you for being my #1 fan.

Call me 132.654.9870

(Your name)