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021417 · 1 month ago

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hiii your shots are ideal :3333

i was through about hange and y/n wedding ?? maybe in canonverse (hange commander), a lot of fluuuuufff THANK U 💕💞

♡ no warnings. fluff. not proofread.

Hange Zoë Oneshot ♡

The fields beyond the last Wall had never looked so beautiful.

The grass swayed under the warm breeze, and wildflowers dotted the landscape like a thousand little stars across green velvet. Scouts and friends— your family, built not by blood but by battle and survival— gathered around a simple wooden arch, strung with white fabric and fresh blooms gathered that morning. The sky was endless and blue above it all.

You stood a little distance away, hidden behind a sheet of white cloth while Sasha and Historia fussed over your veil and bouquet. Your heart raced as you clutched the soft fabric of your wedding dress— delicate, flowing white silk that caught the light with every tiny movement. A soft corset cinched the dress at your waist, the skirt spilling out in layers that floated when you moved. Tiny pearl buttons lined the back, and sheer sleeves with embroidered flowers clung to your arms.

You’d never worn anything so beautiful in your life.

And it was all for them.

For Hange Zoë.

At the altar, Hange waited.

They were the picture of effort— formal white shirt buttoned up properly for once, white pants pressed, the Scout Regiment’s green cape draped carefully over their shoulders. Their wild brown hair had been pulled back into a neater bun than usual, a few soft strands escaping to frame their face.

Levi stood beside them, a permanent scowl on his face— but he was here. And that meant more than words could say.

As the music started— a soft, sweet tune played on an old violin— Hange shifted on their feet nervously.

And then they saw you.

You stepped through the white curtains, sunlight catching the shimmer of your dress, veil billowing behind you. A gasp traveled through the small crowd, but all Hange could do was stare.

Their throat tightened instantly. Their hands shook at their sides. God, they thought, I’m going to cry.

Tears welled in their eyes as you slowly made your way down the aisle, each step graceful, each smile you offered so full of love it nearly knocked the breath from their lungs. You were radiant— more beautiful than any sunrise, any piece of the old world left to them.

When you finally reached them, Hange let out a tiny, choked laugh, dashing a hand across their eyes hastily under their glasses. “You’re... you’re breathtaking, sweetheart,” they whispered hoarsely, voice shaking.

You smiled, cheeks heating. “You’re not so bad yourself, Commander.”

Levi cleared his throat— a polite warning that he was not going to wait forever to start the ceremony— and you both turned toward him, barely containing your grins.

The ceremony itself was simple but perfect.

Levi spoke in a clipped, serious voice, and the occasional chirp of birds or creak of the wooden arch filled the silences between his words.

When Levi nodded to you to begin the vows, you turned to Hange, taking their shaking hands in your own.

You swallowed the lump in your throat and began, your voice steady despite the way your heart was hammering.

"Hange," you said, your voice strong but trembling at the edges, "we were never promised a future. Not with the lives we live, not with the blades we carry."

A soft breath caught in Hange’s throat.

"Every time we strapped into our ODM gear... every time we drew our swords... we accepted that we might never see another sunrise. But even in all that, even surrounded by death, you made me believe in tomorrow."

Hange’s grip on your hands tightened.

"You were my anchor when the wind tried to tear me away. You were the voice in my mind reminding me to check my gas, to sharpen my blades... to keep fighting. To come back."

Tears slid freely down their cheeks now.

"So today, I vow this to you: I will be your blades when you’re defenseless. I will be your gear when you need to fly. I will fight for you, beside you, until I can’t lift a sword anymore— and even then, I'll crawl if I have to, just to stay by your side."

Your voice broke, but you smiled through it, shining and radiant in the afternoon light.

"Today, I don’t just choose love. I choose you as my comrade. My partner. My home. In every battle, and in every peace that follows."

The world around you blurred into nothing but the two of you.

Hange let out a shuddering breath, smiling so wide it was nearly painful, and took a shaky step closer, ready to speak.

Their vows came soft and rough, raw as the scars on their hands.

"Y/N," they rasped, "you were always the one thing more constant than gravity to me."

"I spent my life understanding systems. Mechanics. The rules that make things fly. I thought love was something reckless. Something that could tear a soldier apart faster than any Titan."

They laughed hoarsely, brushing a tear from their face.

"But you— you taught me that real love is a system. That it’s ropes and gears and momentum and physics and trust. You taught me that when you leap off the edge of the world... someone can catch you."

You choked on a sob, squeezing their fingers.

"I vow to be the gas that propels your dreams forward. The steel that defends your heart. The blades that cut through anything that dares try to take you from me."

Hange’s voice cracked, and they pulled you a little closer, like they couldn’t stand even an inch of distance.

"I vow to fly with you, darling. As high and as far as you want. Until we find a world without walls... and even beyond that, if you'll have me."

The ceremony blurred as you both stood there, forehead to forehead, tears mixing with laughter as Levi dryly announced you married.

Hange kissed you like it was the most sacred promise they had ever made— one hand cupping your cheek, the other wrapped around your waist, grounding you, holding you steady like ODM gear against the pull of gravity.

The rest of the evening was a blur of laughter, music, and wine shared among the Survey Corps and the few civilians who had been invited. Sasha and Connie started a drinking game in your honor. Mikasa and Armin gave you both heartfelt hugs. Even Levi allowed himself the luxury of standing quietly at the edge of the festivities, sipping tea and watching you with something that almost resembled fondness.

Later, when the night was deep and the stars stretched endlessly above, you found yourself sitting with Hange just outside the campfire’s glow, with their Survey Corps cape draped over both of you, you whispered against their chest:

"I’ll fly with you anywhere, Hange."

And they kissed the top of your head, voice rough with tears and love:

"I know, sweetheart. Always."

♡ a/n: this took so long i'm so sorry omg

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021417 · 1 month ago

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021417 · 3 months ago

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Whatever keeps the fandom alive

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021417 · 3 months ago

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♡ go ahead and read this part before reading this one if you haven't already, thank you for the likes in the first part and i hope you enjoy reading! :3

Hange Zoë x Fem!reader as Academic Rivals, Chapter 2

One month. That’s how long it had been since that night. One month of stolen glances, whispered remarks, lingering touches that no one else noticed—but you definitely did.

And now, here you were, standing at the front of the lecture hall, laser-focused on not looking at Hange Zoe.

It was your turn to present. You should’ve been entirely in the zone, walking the class through your research with confidence. But the problem? Hange was watching you.

Really watching you.

From their seat in the front row, their chin rested in their hand, glasses slightly sliding down their nose, brown eyes locked onto you like they were analyzing more than just your slides.

It shouldn’t have bothered you. You were used to their scrutiny—after all, you were rivals. But this wasn’t just scrutiny. It was amusement, intrigue, something else flickering in their gaze that made your skin feel too hot under the classroom lights.

You forced yourself to push through, delivering your final points before stepping aside to the sound of polite applause.

And then it was Hange’s turn.

The moment they took the floor, you braced yourself.

Hange was annoyingly good at presenting. Confident, charming, a little unhinged in a way that made people pay attention. And the worst part? They knew it.

You sat back, arms crossed, watching as they gestured wildly, launching into their research like it was the most exciting thing in the world. The class ate it up.

And then—mid-sentence—Hange’s eyes flicked to you.

Not just a glance. A knowing look.

Like they were remembering something you definitely shouldn’t be thinking about in the middle of class.

Your throat went dry.

They smirked—so subtly that no one else noticed—and kept talking like nothing happened.

Oh, they were enjoying this.

Fine. Two could play that game.

When the Q&A started, you leaned your body forward against the desk, feigning interest. “Interesting presentation, Zoe,” you said smoothly. “But don’t you think your methodology was a bit… flawed?”

Hange raised a brow, the challenge clear in their eyes.

And just like that, the debate began.

For the next ten minutes, the two of you went back and forth—rivalry on full display, neither of you willing to back down. The class watched in fascination, half-expecting one of you to lunge across the room.

You lived for this. The push and pull, the thrill of trying to outsmart each other.

But what was different now—what had changed—was the undercurrent of something else.

Something dangerous.

The way Hange’s lips twitched when you argued back. The way their voice dipped lower when they countered your points. The way every word felt like it had a second meaning, something layered beneath the academic battle.

By the time class ended, the tension between you was unbearable.

So when Hange brushed past you on their way out, their hand just barely skimming your waist, their breath ghosting against your ear as they murmured, “Better luck next time,” you felt it everywhere.

You bit the inside of your cheek, shooting them an irritated glare.

This wasn’t over.

You weren’t avoiding Hange. Not exactly. You were merely giving yourself space, some time to cool your head off.

At least, that’s what you told yourself when you planted yourself in the library, diving into your next research paper as if your life depended on it. You had barely gotten through two paragraphs when a familiar voice broke through your concentration.

“You look stressed.”

You closed your eyes, exhaling slowly. “Go away, Zoe.”

Hange plopped into the seat across from you, completely ignoring your request. “C’mon princess, don’t be like that.”

You shot them a glare. “Like what?”

Hange leaned in, chin resting on their palm. “Like you haven’t been thinking about me all day.”

Your fingers twitched around your pen, gritting your teeth. “You’re delusional.”

They chuckled,. “Am I?”

You turned back to your notes, refusing to let them get to you.

But Hange never let things go.

Their foot nudged yours under the table—again.

Subtle. Barely there. But deliberate.

You tensed, eyes flicking up to meet theirs. Their smirk softened, just a fraction. “You’re fun when you’re flustered.”

Your pulse jumped. And just like that, you snapped.

Slamming your book shut, you grabbed Hange by the wrist, yanking them up and out of the library angrily. They barely had time to protest before you were pulling them into an empty hallway, pressing them against the wall.

Their brown eyes widened slightly as they gazed down at you, surprised—but then, their smirk returned. “Ah, taking charge now?”

You glared. “You think you’re so clever, don’t you?”

Hange tilted their head, smirking shamelessly. “I know I am.”

God, they were infuriating.

But instead of arguing, instead of snapping back with some cutting remark, you did the one thing you shouldn’t have done.

You kissed them.

Hard.

Hange groaned against your lips, their hands immediately finding your waist, pulling you flush against them. The kiss was all teeth, all frustration, all the unresolved tension that had been simmering beneath the surface for weeks.

You barely noticed when your back hit the opposite wall, Hange pinning you there now, deepening the kiss, their hands sliding under your sweater, their lips moving down your jaw—

The distant sound of footsteps snapped you both back to reality.

You broke apart, breathless, eyes locked as you looked up at their taller stature.

Hange licked their lips, grinning as they tasted your lip gloss. “Well, that’s one way to settle a debate.”

You rolled your eyes, but you couldn’t hide the smile tugging at your lips.

This wasn’t just a one-time thing. This wasn’t just a rivalry anymore. This was something else.

And you had no idea where it would lead.

But for the first time, you didn’t mind not having all the answers.

You weren’t sure when it changed. When it stopped being just rivalry.

When the stolen glances became lingering stares. When the sharp words became inside jokes. When the teasing turned from playful to… something else.

All you knew was that after that sloppy kiss in the hallway, after the way Hange had looked at you—lips kiss-swollen with your lipgloss smeared against their tan skin, brown eyes dark with something unreadable—nothing was the same.

And the worst part? They were acting so fucking normal about it.

Which is why, when you walked into the local coffee shop near campus and saw Hange sitting at a table, grinning at you like nothing had changed, your blood boiled.

“Ah, look who it is,” Hange said, raising their coffee cup. “Still trying to avoid me, sweetheart?”

You scoffed, gently placing your bag into the seat across from them. “What? I'm not avoiding you.”

Hange raised an eyebrow, amused. “Sure. So that’s why you ran out of the library yesterday before I could kiss you again?”

You tensed, sighing before taking off your cardigan to hang over the back of the chair. “I didn’t run.”

Hange leaned forward, resting their chin on their hand, eyes glinting. “You sure Y/N? Cause damn if I didn’t know any better, I would've thought you were scared.”

You rolled your eyes with a scoff. “Of you? Please.”

Hange just smiled—like they knew something you didn’t.

You hated that smile.

Mostly because it made your stomach flip in a way it definitely shouldn’t.

You grabbed your phone, pretending your hands weren’t slightly shaking.

Hange watched you, studying. “You’re overthinking.”

“I am not—”

“Yes, you are.” They reached out, their thumb stroking your lower lip, slightly wiping off your lip gloss. “It’s cute.”

You nearly choked on air.

“Hange.”

They grinned, pulling their hand back. “Yes?”

You exhaled sharply, gripping the edge of the table. “What is this?”

Hange tilted their head. “This?”

You gestured vaguely between you. “Us. This… thing we’re doing.”

Hange was quiet for a moment. Then they shrugged. “Don’t know. But I like it.”

Your heart skipped.

Hange leaned back, huffing. “We could do something about it. Or we could just… see where it goes.”

You narrowed your eyes. “That’s very non-committal of you.”

Hange smirked. “You want me to get on one knee and make a dramatic declaration of my love for you?”

You groaned. “You’re fucking crazy.”

“And you’re adorable when you’re flustered.”

You kicked them under the table.

Hange only laughed.

It started with an accident.

You had both been buried in research for midterms, barely seeing each other outside of class. But one night, after spending hours in the library, you and Hange ended up leaving at the same time.

And, somehow, you ended up at the same ramen shop.

“Oh,” Hange said, blinking at you as you both stood awkwardly outside the entrance.

You frowned. “You like this place?”

“Uh, yeah? Their miso ramen is superior.”

You scoffed. “Absolutely not. Tonkotsu is the only correct choice.”

Hange grinned. “Wanna debate about it?”

You crossed your arms across your chest. “Obviously.”

And just like that, you were sitting across from each other, arguing over ramen while pretending this wasn’t totally a date.

Hange stole bites from your bowl. You stole some theirs. They teased you about the way you slurped your noodles. You cursed them when they flicked a stray bean sprout at you.

And somehow, between the bickering, between the smirks and knowing glances, the space between you felt smaller.

Hange’s knee brushed against yours beneath the table.

You didn’t move away.

When you finally left the shop, the night air was crisp, the streets quiet. You walked side by side, not speaking.

Hange offered to walk you back to your dorm, and on your way back to campus, they noticed you shiver as the cold breeze whooshed against your skin.

Damn, you wore something less restricting today because you thought you would be heading straight back to your dorm after studying in the library.

They took a moment to stare at the exposed skin before taking off their jacket, draping it over your shoulders with a gentle smile on their lips.

And then, just as you reached your dorm, Hange tugged you back, their fingers curling around your wrist.

You turned, heartbeat hammering.

Hange looked at you—really looked at you.

And then they leaned in, their lips ghosting over yours, barely a breath away.

Your breath hitched.

“Still scared?” they murmured.

You exhaled slowly, your fingers tightening around their sleeve.

“No,” you whispered, feeling them smirk against your lips before kissing you.

You liked whatever this is between you and Hange right now, but little did you know that soon, Hange would give you something to realize that all this was a mistake.

♡ hey, thanks for reading till the end, hope you liked this chapter! all of this is fluff to prepare you for the next part. it's not devastatingly heartbreaking, don't worry! but it'll hurt just a little. :3

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021417 · 3 months ago

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Rival hange x fem reader au?

♡ hey there! i don't know if you wanted another type of rivals, but the first thing that came to my mind was Academic Rivals. thanks for requesting! :3

Hange Zoë x Fem!reader as Academic Rivals

The rivalry between you and Hange Zoë was legendary on campus.

Both of you were on top of your class, constantly at each other's throats in debates, challenging each other in the lab, and racing to outdo one another on research papers. Professors loved the competitive energy; your classmates took bets on who would finally snap first.

But beyond the sharp words and cutting remarks, there was something else—something neither of you ever acknowledged. The glances held a fraction too long, the way Hange’s lips would quirk when they bested you, or the way your pulse would spike whenever they got too close.

At house parties, it was no different. You'd pretend not to notice Hange in their element, laughing too loud, leaning too close to others, sipping on cheap beer like they didn’t have a care in the world. Yet, your gaze always drifted back. And when you thought they weren’t looking, Hange did the same.

Tonight was no exception.

The party was buzzing, music thumping through the floorboards. You were perched on the couch, a drink in hand, forcing yourself to focus on the conversation with a flashy junior who was clearly interested in you. But then—Hange. Across the room, leaning against the kitchen counter, shirt half-unbuttoned, sleeves rolled up, their brown eyes flicking toward you for a second too long before darting away.

That was new.

You turned away fast, sipping on your and pretending you weren’t looking. But the thing about Hange? They noticed everything.

You didn’t even have to look to know they were watching you now.

And, God, it pissed you off.

So you did what you did best: ignored them.

But the night stretched on, and the tension tightened.

Hange was always there. In your periphery. Watching you when you thought they weren’t. Smirking when they knew you caught them.

You weren’t subtle, either. You watched the way they leaned in close to some girl, their lips brushing against the shell of her ear as they whispered something that made her giggle. You saw the way they downed their drink, brown eyes darting to you afterward, as if gauging your reaction.

Childish. Infuriating. Addicting.

Your head was buzzing—not just from the alcohol, but from the sheer frustration of it all. And when you finally locked eyes across the crowded room, something in the air shifted.

A silent challenge. An unspoken dare. Their brown eyes locked onto your sharp ones, their eyes were speaking volumes. As if saying—

Come and do something about it.

And you did.

You found yourself in the hallway, firmly pressed against the wall with their muscular arms caging you in, Hange stood tall in front of you, much too close.

You weren’t even sure how it happened—one minute, you were glaring at each other from across the room, the next, you were here, tension thrumming between you like a live wire.

Hange tilted their head, voice teasing. “You’ve been staring all night.”

You scoffed, sharp eyes glaring up at their brown ones, dark behind their thick-rimmed glasses. “You fucking wish.”

They hummed, their voice dipping. “Oh, come on baby. I know when a girl wants me.”

Your fingers curled into fists, hands trembling and brows furrowing. “Cocky bastard.”

Hange's lips quirked up into a lopsided smirk. “And yet, here you are.”

God, they were so close. Their scent—something faintly like whiskey and the sharp, electric scent of a thunderstorm—filled your senses.

Their eyes flicked down as you stared up at them, gazing down at your form with a look of something in their eyes. Your top barely clung onto your torso, giving Hange a real good view from up there—thank god you left your sweater on the couch in the other room, they bit their lower lip with half-lidded eyes. Their fingers twitched, itching to touch and feel your bare skin.

“You’re always like this,” you muttered under your breath, voice barely above a whisper. “Always pushing. Always—”

Hange suddenly cut you off, their lips crashing against yours.

For a second, your brain short-circuited.

Then you kissed them back, subconsciously.

It was desperate, all sharp teeth and tangled fingers as you grabbed at their wrinkled button-up, pulling them impossibly closer. Hange’s hands found your waist, gripping tight like they’d been waiting for this, just as much as you had.

A low groan rumbled from their throat as they pressed you back against the wall, their lips moving hungrily against yours. It was all heat, all the years of tension unraveling in one moment.

You barely registered the distant sounds of the party—music, laughter, people moving around. None of it mattered.

All that mattered was Hange, their hands roaming your body, their lips moving to your jaw, your neck, licking and teasing.

“Fuck,” you gasped, your head tilting back as they bit down just enough to make your skin tingle.

Hange grinned against your throat. “I knew you wanted me.”

Your nails dug into their shoulders, and you flipped the two of you, pressing them against the wall this time.

“Shut up,” you breathed.

And then you kissed them again.

The moment your lips crashed together, you knew there was no turning back.

Hange kissed like they argued—with passion, with no hesitation, with a fire that dared you to match them or fall apart trying. You had spent years at war with them, fighting over grades, professors’ praise, and academic superiority.

Now, you were fighting for something else entirely.

Their fingers curled around your waist, pulling you flush against them, and the heat between you was unbearable. Their mouth was insistent, devouring, stealing every breath from your lungs as they backed you against the nearest door.

A small gasp slipped past your lips as your back hit the door with a small thud, they took the chance to slide their tongue in between your lips, their hands moving to grope your ass roughly.

You barely registered the way they fumbled behind you, pushing it open.

Then the two of you tumbled inside, lips never parting, hands never still.

The door slammed shut.

A bedroom. Someone’s—who cared? The party was still buzzing outside, but in here, the world had narrowed to just the two of you.

Hange’s hands roamed your body, slipping beneath your top, fingertips burning against your skin. “You have no idea,” they murmured against your soft lips, breathless, “how long I’ve wanted to do this.”

Your nails dragged down their back, feeling the muscles beneath their shirt tense. “Shut up and do something about it.”

Hange growled—a real, deep sound from their chest—and then they were on you.

Their mouth trailed down your jaw, your neck, biting at the skin just enough to leave a mark. Their hands pushed your shirt up, over your head, before their lips were on your collarbone, lower, lower—

You gasped as they sucked a bruise into the skin of your cleavage, reveling in the way your body shivered under their touch. “I hate you,” you whispered.

Hange smirked against your skin. “Yeah, do you?"

You would have had some smart comeback—something snarky, something sharp—but then their hands slipped inside the waistband of your pants, then your panties, and all coherent thought shattered.

You arched into their touch, a soft moan escaping before you could stop it. Hange groaned, their other hand slipping inside your bra to cup your breast in their palm. “Fuck, you feel so good.” they muttered, their voice raspier than before.

Clothes disappeared—thrown somewhere, forgotten. Their hands mapped every inch of your body, and you returned the favor, nails digging into their skin, drinking in every sound they made.

Everything blurred—heat, friction, tangled limbs, the way their body fit against yours like this was always inevitable. Their name spilled from your lips, over and over, and the way they said yours—desperate, hungry—sent a thrill down your spine.

And when the tension finally snapped, when you shattered beneath them, you realized something terrifying.

This wasn’t just lust.

This wasn’t just years of pent-up frustration exploding in one night.

This was something much, much more dangerous.

Because when it was over, when the two of you lay tangled in each other, bodies still humming, Hange let out a breathless laugh.

“Told you,” they murmured against your skin. “You wanted me.”

You scoffed, fingers tracing lazy circles against their back. “Shut up.”

Hange grinned, pressing a slow, lingering kiss to your shoulder. “You’re cute when you’re flustered.”

You rolled your eyes, but you didn’t pull away.

Sunlight streamed through the blinds, casting golden streaks over tangled sheets and bare skin.

For a few blissful moments, you were warm, comfortable, and pleasantly sore in all the right places.

And then reality hit.

Your eyes snapped open, heart pounding as the events of last night came crashing back. The party. The hallway. The heated kisses. Hange pressing you against the door, their hands on your body, their lips dragging moans from your throat—

Oh, fuck.

You stiffened, barely breathing, turning your head ever so slightly.

Hange Zoë was sprawled next to you, their muscular arm lazily draped across your waist, their bare chest rising and falling with even breaths. Their glasses—somehow still intact—were askew on the nightstand. Their brown hair was a complete disaster, and a few bruises decorated the tan skin of their neck, and down to their collarbone.

Bruises from you.

Shit.

Carefully, you started to move, slipping from beneath the tight hold on their arm around your waist. If you were lucky, you could leave before—

“Running away?”

Their voice, deeper than usual, had you frozen in place.

Slowly, you turned back. Hange’s brown eyes were barely open, but that familiar smirk played on their lips, your lipstick smeared all over their lips, lazy and satisfied.

You swallowed, trying to play it cool. “Just leaving before you start gloating.”

Hange chuckled, stretching, shameless in their nudity. Though it wasn't an unpleasant sight, they were ripped. “Oh, sweetheart, I don’t need to gloat. You’ll be thinking about me all day anyway.”

You grabbed the nearest pillow and smacked them in the face.

“Hey!” They laughed, catching your wrist and pulling you back down, hovering over you now. Their gaze flickered over your face—something softer, unreadable, before their smirk returned. “C’mon darling, admit it. That was fun.”

It was beyond fun. It was the best sex of your life. But you refused to give them the satisfaction.

You huffed, fingers weakly pushing at their chest. “You're fucking crazy.”

Hange smirked. “I fucked you crazy.”

You hated how they threw your own words back at you, how they were always so good at making you flustered.

With a final shove, you rolled out of bed, grabbing your discarded clothes on the floor. Hange propped themselves up on their elbows, licking their lip as they stared at your ass as slipped your panties back on.

“What, no morning cuddles?”

You shot them a glare, already irritated. “We are not doing this again.”

Hange only chuckled. “Sure.”

You sighed softly, double checking yourself in the mirror. “You skipping class?”

Hange tilted their head, considering. “Maybe.”

You turned to leave.

“Hey.” Their voice was quieter now.

You glanced back, sharp eyes narrowing at them.

Hange’s expression had softened, just slightly. “You do look cute when you’re flustered.”

You turned your back at them, ignoring the feeling of blood rushing up to your cheeks as you slammed the door shut behind you.

You weren’t sure what you expected after that night, you cursed yourself for fucking up, contemplating on whether you should avoid Hange or act like they didn't just rearrange your guts and make you cum on their tongue.

Maybe you thought things would be unbearably awkward—that you and Hange would avoid each other, pretend it never happened. Maybe you thought it would turn into something casual, something secret, stolen moments in the library or between classes.

What you didn’t expect was this:

Hange Zoë, still your biggest rival, but with less aggression and a lot more teasing.

They were still competitive, still determined to outshine you, but now, there was a new game—one that involved stolen smirks, lingering touches when no one was looking, and whispered remarks just close enough to your ear to send shivers down your spine.

In class, Hange would “accidentally” sit next to you, nudging your foot under the table. During debates, their eyes would glint with amusement instead of just challenge. When you rolled your eyes at one of their remarks, they’d only smirk like they knew what your eye-rolls looked like in much different circumstances.

And the worst part You didn’t hate it.

You still bickered. Still fought for the top spot. But now, it wasn’t just war—it was playful. And maybe, just maybe, you didn’t mind losing to them once in a while.

Not that you’d ever admit it.

One Month Later

You sat in the library, scrolling through your notes, determined to focus on your research.

Then a shadow fell over your desk.

You didn’t even have look up to know who the shadow belonged to. “Go away, Zoë.”

A chair scraped against the floor as Hange plopped down across from you, looking over your shoulder. “What, no warm welcome?”

You exhaled sharply. “I have work to do.”

Hange leaned closer, eyes flicking to your notes. “You’re researching the migration patterns of what species?”

You shot them an irritated glare. “Don’t pretend you care.”

“I do care,” they said, grinning. “Because I’m going to destroy you in the next research presentation.”

You scoffed. “Go away.”

Hange’s smirk grew, their foot nudging yours under the table.

You clicked your tongue.

It was subtle, barely noticeable to anyone else, but you felt it. And the way Hange looked at you—unbothered, mischievous, like they knew exactly what they were doing—made your stomach flip.

This had become your new game.

A battle of wits and stolen touches, of sharp words and softer ones hidden between the lines.

You sighed dramatically. “Fine. When I destroy you in the presentation, then will you leave me alone?”

Hange grinned. “No chance.”

The rivalry was still there. But now, there was something else, something deeper.

♡ um hey so i'll make a second part of this because i got lazy and i also ran out of ideas. thanks for reading, i'll publish part 2 soon. :3

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