a dark and magical forest

They were so fucking obvious about it anyway, she couldn’t even help the floating jokes amongst her comrades if she tried. The moment she would walk into a room, Hange’s eyes (magnified by their spectacles) would lock onto her like a cat with string and instantly materialize in her personal space.

Worse was that they were extremely vocal in their affections.

”Ahh, my favorite most stunning girl has finally arrived!” They’d croon, sometimes daring to wrap their long arms around her shoulders, others attempting to take her by the hand and swing her into their body.

Thankfully, she was smaller and quicker than they were. Twisting their wrist with a flick of her hand and digging a well-aimed elbow into their ribs was usually all it took to be freed from their unwanted attention before taking her place at Erwin’s side so their work could actually take place.

Though, that never was enough to actually get Hange to cease entirely.

Once, during a particularly zealous meeting involving allowing Hange the opportunity to convince the other Squad Leaders and Erwin to lead an expedition to capture a living Titan, they’d gotten too excited, and had pulled her out of her seat by her waist in order to mimic some experiment or other they wished to do, which for some reason involved pulling her body around and reaching - for her face? Her throat maybe? They didn’t get to find out, as Hange had ended up pressed face first into the ground under her heel for that.

She was Erwin’s assistant, not a plaything for mad Squad Leaders after all.

But the ‘affection’ still never ceased, even after years of working together.

When she walked into a room, it was always, “My Darling, my most perfect girl!” “Ahh, my own bleeding heart has been returned to me!”

The catcalling was at least more creative than when the men did it. The men would just shout that she had a nice ass before pretending to suck a cock at her. But they kept a distance from her, and were easily ignored, unlike Hange Zoe.

Walls forbid that anyone be capable of ignoring Hange Zoe.

“We’ll be heading to the Green River Tavern tonight.” Erwin told her one day, as she was preparing her clipped parchment for their monthly meeting.

“For what purpose, sir?” She asked, genuine confusion altering her tone.

Erwin smiled fondly down at her and put a hand over her papers, encouraging her to lower them. “For recreation. I am not a taskmaster. We all deserve some form of relaxation, especially with what is to come. And you are included in that group, Miss Darling.”

That group, being the Captains, second-in commands, Section Leaders -

Since the project of capturing Titans had been green lit, Hange had been sparse around Headquarters, instead sequestering themselves in their makeshift laboratory on the other wing of the building. She hadn’t seen hide nor hair of them in nearly three weeks, even during mealtimes.

It had been a relief, truthfully. She no longer was forced to listen for a moment outside of common room doors to see if Hange was inside before entering. Better yet, there was a delightful lack of being casually touched, of unrestrained praise or affection that sent unpleasant shivers across her flesh.

Of course, that was never going to last for long. But the break had been nice.

”Very well, sir. Will we be taking a carriage or walking into town?” The inward sigh was not heard - but by the look of Erwin’s bemused expression, he knew it was there regardless.

They took a separate carriage, being later to leave Headquarters than the others as work had slowed them down.

By the time they’d arrived to the tavern, their comrades were all seated at one table, already nursing ale and wine together, the inches missing from the tops of their glasses.

The tavern was lowly lit, just by lanterns on the walls and beeswax candles on the tables, glowing from inside of frosted glass. It gave the room a mellow tone, which was only interrupted by the occasional bellow or excited shout by one of the other patrons.

As they entered, they removed their coats and came to their comrades table. The only seats left open where one at the head (which Erwin took, naturally) a chair next to Captain Levi, and then another across from Hange - who of course, had become all too aware of her as soon as they had entered through the door, though the expected greeting of crooned compliments and unwanted diminutives of her surname was shockingly absent.

Still, she didn’t want to encourage it. She reached for the chair beside Levi.

But it didn’t move.

Her hand wriggled the top of the wood, pulling it to make it undone, thinking at first the leg was tangled with something, until the older man spoke.

“There’s another chair there.” Captain Levi told her dispassionately. His leg was outstretched beneath the table - and if she dared to look, she bet a thousand pieces of gold that he’d had it pinned against the wood, keeping her from pulling it free.

She stared back at Levi, wondering if it was worth it to challenge him over a stupid chair.

But as she was seriously considering it, wondering if Humanities Strongest Soldier would dare to lay a hand on a woman over a chair, Erwin had noticed her hovering from the other end. “Miss Darling?”

Levi had then twitched a brow at her, daring her to say anything. She thought about it, glancing from the empty seat besides the Captain to the empty chair across from Hange, who right now was peering at her through those thick lenses of theirs like a particularly weepy stray dog.

If back at Headquarters, she might’ve risked it. But here, in a painfully public place filled with dozens of other patrons, she was forced to cede to them.

She sat across from Hange and stiffly accepted the glass of wine that Mike pushed to her.

Honey wine - a disappointing drink to celebrate a dreadful evening. So be it, she thought, drinking from it.

Erwin was talking about the decor from one side of the table. On the other, Mike was being tested on his powerful smelling ability by guessing what drink was being held behind his back.

Neither subject interested her.

The wine was sickly.

Her stocking had a run on her left side.

Dreadful, her mind repeated, the honey wine coating her mouth.

A thump! came then, low, followed by a sharp grunt, and then a rough cough from Hange.

At her immediate, suspicious look, they smiled broadly, looking deeply nervous. “Miss Darling! He - how are you finding your wine?” They asked. That might’ve been the first actual question Hange had asked her in years.

”Awful.” She replied straightforwardly, toeing the line now from suspicious to merely curious. Her eyes flickered down then to their practically finished tankard of ale, which smelled worse than her wine did. Perhaps that explained their odd behavior. Unusual. When people drank, it usually loosened their inhibitions, not tightened them.

”You seem to be enjoying the ale.” She noted softly, gesturing one languid finger towards the tankard.

Hange’s response was to stare at her, brown eyes verging back into the much more familiar look of mild craze that they usually had as their breathing seemed to be more difficult to control / until another, hard thump! came beneath the table.

This time, she looked pointedly at Captain Levi, the culprit in question who had the gall to appear nonchalant and mildly interested in Mike sniffing his cider like a bloodhound.

Her glare was interrupted by Hange’s tight, awkward laugh, which almost sounded pained, especially when they spoke. “Tooo right you are, my - Missss Darling. Let me buy you another drink though, I’ll take that from you - ‘cuse me.” They had a slight limp now as they collected her wine glass and their own tankard, vanishing away from the table to the bar on the other side of the room.

“I didn’t take you for a hawing hen.” She accused mildly, taking a look down at the glowing candle lamp at their table, clinking the glass with her nail.

”I’m a romantic at heart.” Levi replied coolly.

She couldn’t help but huff at that - it was hardly romantic the way Hange acted towards her. Unless he also found the way little boys yanked on little girls pigtails also romantic. It was - childish - the way Hange treated her. On every occasion, bar tonight, they had touched her or overstepped her boundaries in some way.

A single evening without that would not remove those previous stains.

When the Squad Leader returned, they came with a tray full of clinking drinks, which they skillfully did not spill. Some in tall glasses, others in tankards. Some in very tiny, delicate crystal, whose clinks sounded higher than all the others.

”Wasn’t sure what you’d like, so I ordered whatever they had!” Hange said, somehow sounding half proud but also half sheepish. It was almost endearing.

”Ah yes!” A hand reached out for two of the stemmed drinks, holding them up high. “Mike, quickly, wha-what’s in these?”

“Cherry cordial. That one’s orange and lime with potato liquor - and thats lavender something.”

“Ok ok - now how bout these ems?”

There must’ve been a dozen drinks on Hange’s tray, even after those few had been taken to torture Mike’s nose.

Fucking hell.

Perhaps Levi had taken the Squad Leaders brain and scrubbed it clean before putting it back. A romantic, he’d said. Foolish, she thought, but considered the glasses anyway.

She took a fluted one, something far fancier than what belonged in a tavern in Trost, but she took it nonetheless. It sparkled, smelt intensely of lemons, and even had a sugary lemon twist propped up on the rim, but it was at least not so offensive as the honey wine. And there was no mistaking the elation on Hange’s face when she took it.

Let alone when she thanked them, utterly polite.

It looked almost like they were about to do as they always did, dash around the table and embarrass the living hell out of her. And no amount of kicking from Captain Levi looked to be able to hinder them.

What a mistake this was, she thought, standing with the excuse of a restroom before leaving them behind.

If there was a back door, perhaps she could return to headquarters. Erwin would question her disappearance come tomorrow, but a dozen easy excuses would have satiated the Commander’s curiosity.

The thoughts swirled in her head. What she would say. What she predicted Erwin would ask in return.

Distractions, which kept her from noticing the hand reaching to grab her arm before too late.

”Listen - listen here, honey.” A drunken man, far too sweaty than she could stand, started to say as he gripped her tightly. He stank of the honeywine. “Whaddya say you take that fuh - fyinest ass of yours to mine, huh? You won’t even know - you won’t even - know what you’ll miss if yough don’t.” Stupid.

She pinched the back of the hand that held her captive, gripping the skin harshly until the pain shuddered through the drunk idiot’s brain. “I don’t accept offers from morons.” She told him.

Pain and drunkenness turned though, into pain, drunkenness and indignation. He yelped, somehow also slurring that, but did not let go.

The grip slackened but then instead snatched at her wrists, pushing her backwards until her back hit the brick wall behind her, firmer than she’d expect. It dazed her for a moment, but before she had the chance to react, the man’s body was flung from her - hard.

He crashed into the table behind them, crippling the wood and ruining the card game of the men sitting there - particularly earning the ire of the man who must have been winning - because soon enough they were grabbing at the drunken fucks clothes and shouldering him towards the exit, their shouts loud enough to earn the attention of the whole tavern.

Meanwhile -

“Did he fucking lay a hand on you? Hurt you?” Hange’s voice was different. Where it was usually energetic, spirited and quick, it was now made of sterner stuff. Low, serious. She liked it better now.

They were still too close to her - their hands hovered over her arms, where the drunkard’s grip had been worst, as if they were too frightened to touch her. As if by touching her, she might suddenly shatter. Their face certainly gave suggestion to that - serious but grave, concern permeating deeply through their deep brown eyes.

She hummed, straightening herself up against the brick wall, rolling her shoulders to make sure there were no little twinges in the muscle. “Yes. And then no.”

Hange didn’t appear in the best brain space to separate the two answers at the moment. But as they were being uncharacteristically calm, she took pity on them.

”I’m not hurt. He was a drunk moron, could hardly hurt a housefly if he wanted to.”

Despite her answer, their gaze was still stern. “He assaulted military personnel. He could be imprisoned for six months if I -“

“You won’t.” She commanded lightly.

“I -“

“Won’t.” She finished their sentence - this frustrated them, the thick brows of theirs twitching with unused energy. It was as if they wanted to vibrate in place - like a bumblebee with no wings.

Curious at this different Hange Zoe she was now faced with, she glanced over at their table. They were each busy, still talking and chatty. It looked like the Commander was going to leave soon. But curiosity was stronger now than her desire to leave.

”Why’d you follow me?” She asked, knowing the answer.

This new Hange gave her a desperate look. However, instead of being cloying and loud, it was honest. Yearning. Less of a child gazing at a mountain of sugared violets, more of a drowning man looking at a pocket of air. The analogy, even from her own head, sent something within her somersaulting.

”You know why I follow you.” Hange answered quietly.

A woman moved to go past them, so the be-speckled Squad Leader moved to stand next to her, side-by-side against the wall instead.

“Tell me anyway,” she said, prompting them with, “You have a crush on me.”

“Yes,” they admitted. “Must be why they call it a crush. It feels like I’m being crushed. Crushed and reinflated and then squashed all over again!” With this, they regained some of their usual tone. Quicker, more emotion as they grinned.

”Perhaps there have been studies.” She mused.

”I’d make a fantastic addition to those studies!” Hange pointed out, gesturing to her animatedly - but stopping short of touching her.

“You would.” She agreed, watching them. This seemed to remind them however, of how close they were - of how their boots were almost touching the pointed toe of her shoes.

They swallowed and pulled themselves back, reverting as they returned to something more leveled - even though it was clear that wasn’t where their heart was.

”I’m sorry,” they then said soberly. “For - well, I’m just sorry.”

She looked closely at Hange then - it wasn’t often they were close enough for her to really take in their features. Usually, she only caught a glimpse before she was yanked into them. They had strong, almost handsome features. Their nose was their strongest attribute, hooked like a birds. It loomed over narrow, pale lips. A sturdy chin, a strong jaw. If not for their always mostly greasy hair and pushy personality, they might’ve been someone she was distracted by.

Though, their hair didn’t seem so dirty now. But that might’ve been the candlelight.

Without thinking, she reached out and took a lock of their hair, feeling the thick strands between her fingers.

Hange’s breath hitched at her action, but she didn’t pull away until the (perfectly and freshly clean) hair naturally flowed out of her fingers.

Then she stopped, resting her arm back against the wall as if she’d never done it at all. “Thank you.” She said casually.

The rest of them looked clean too. Cleaner than ever, really. There didn’t even look to be dirt under their fingernails.

“You’re overwhelming.” Hange’s voice sounded breathless - on the verge of break, maybe.

“So are you.” She’d countered.

”No.” They said, no longer able to merely stand next to her - their hand twitched. “You’re really - I just look at you and I feel… Fuck, I can’t help it. It’s been killing me - and damn short stuff was kicking me the moment you sat down too!”

”He wasn’t subtle.”

“Stop.” Hange pleaded then, their hands shaking as they attempted not to touch her. They just barely succeeded - but not in crowding her. Their body moved close, just inches between torsos as their hands settled on either side of her shoulders, gripping onto the smooth brick behind her back as if that would help them resist.

Their breath smelt like ale.

If she were Mike, she wondered in a blasé fashion, what else could she catch on them? They’d bathed before coming here. Soap, then? The plain kind they were issued. Laundry powder. Parchment, dust, sweat? Whatever chemicals kept them so focused in their new laboratory.

”Darling.” It was her name, and also a hunger. She could see the ache in Hange. The rolling, tumbling, roaring need that begged her through their eyes, that trembled through their every muscle.

What a fascinating thing, to be so utterly wanted.

“Squad Leader?” her use of their title was purposeful and slow. It cracked something in their restraint - so devastatingly that she might’ve been able to hear it shatter. “Take me home?”

If Hange had been vibrating before, they were quaking now.

The carriage ride, paid from their own wages, was an anonymous civilian. They didn’t know she was Commander Erwin’s assistant, that Hange led one of their elite squads.

Theoretically speaking. Who could he tell if he saw something?

But Hange kept their hands to themselves, all through the ride. All through the walk, too, to the front door of her bedroom. It was not so close to anyone else they knew. Not anyone important.

And the walls were thick.

She tried to ignore the look on the Squad Leader’s face - actually, tried to avoid looking their way at all as they walked past sleepy scouts and straggler visiting commanders.

When they reached her door, the taller soldier at her back halted, as if at their feet was a do not cross line.

Even as she unlocked it, stepping instead and looking back - it looked like Hange was pained they could not follow. Perhaps Levi’s ‘lessons’ had gone a hair too far.

“Hange, were you coming inside?” She asked.

”Did you want me to?” They asked back instantly, need stricken.

Instead of answering such a silly question, she left the door hanging open as she entered into her room.

It was a small room. Just her bed, a dressing table, a wardrobe. There was a rug beneath her feet.

Her coat dropped onto it.

And then her blouse.

A choking noise erupted from the hallway, and in an instant her door was swung shut and locked from the inside. “Yu-you just took - !” Hange’s strangled voice screeched to a halt just as quickly as they’d turned around.

Her skirt and chemise had joined her other clothing on the floor.

All that remained were her ivory stays and trimmed shorts. Her stockings were next to join the pile.

When her back was pushed up against her bedpost, it wasn’t rough. It was solid, firm. The hands that had grasped at her hips were hesitant, but urgent.

“Please - please please tell me I can touch you?” Hange’s voice was deep and hungry as they begged into her ear. The vibration and heat of their breath against her sensitive skin traveled through her, settling into a wanton ache between her thighs.

She couldn’t help it. She shivered as she tilted her head back, resting once she could more easily meet their gaze. Hange had pushed their glasses up to the top of their head, the intensity of their eyes now without any restriction. And fuck… they wanted her so badly.

”You can touch me.” She murmured back.

Hands, now with permission, began to move up and down her sides, as if casting the curves of her body into memory with touch alone, squeezing her only where she was softest - each time causing Hange to groan above her.

At least until they lowered their head, and she took the opportunity to capture their noisy lips with hers.

Like a candle had been lit, that set Hange aflame.

Their kiss was like them. Forceful, energetic, starving, demanding.

It made her head spin - their lips moved so aggressively that it became difficult to keep track of where their hands were, and before she knew it they had scraped along the inside of her thigh, inches away from her aching pussy.

For a dizzying moment, she thought Hange would ask for permission again. To beg to touch her, again.

But it seemed they didn’t need to ask twice.

”Fuck!” She gasped as their long fingers slipped inside of her cotton shorts, finding the heat of her without hesitation.

”You’re wet.” Hange said in dark agony. They smoothed over the front of her, dampening the downy curls there as they smeared her arousal. The sensation roamed over her centre of her pleasure, tightening her core with anticipation.

To her absolute relief, this sent them to their knees before her, eagerly pulling down her shorts and the underclothes with them. Hange stayed put on the floor even as they pushed her onto the edge of her mattress, keeping her legs spread for them all the while.

Then, instead of the sensation of fingers, it was a wet, cool tongue licking through her pussy, as if it had absolutely been killing them not to know how she tasted.

”Fuck. Oh fuck, my perfect Darling girl. You taste so - “ From there, the sound from Hange’s throat was something like a growl before they grabbed her by her hips and yanked her down onto their mouth.

They ate her the same way they did everything. With everything in them, doing everything they could think of to do.

Sucking at her. Pushing their tongue inside of her, groaning all the while with a complete lack of shame.

It was her too, that had no shame. In their hunger, they had found a tempo that worked her perfectly. Reaching inside and pushing her slowly but forcefully closer to ecstasy.

Her hand had clutched into Hange’s dark, messy hair. The act an unspoken plea of don’t stop.

And they didn’t - they probably couldn’t have been pried out from between her legs if someone used a crowbar to make the attempt. And damn all if Hange wasn’t a quick study. As soon as they’d realized their motion was working for her, they didn’t pause. Didn’t speed up, didn’t get rougher. Just kept at her, tongue moving, the brunt of their nose grinding into her, until, until, until -

Her orgasm was hard and satisfying, snatching at her vocal cords and gripping them tight as she shook beneath Hange’s hands. The only noise that escaped was a heady gasp, muffled into the bedspread she had yanked up to her face.

”You were so good for me,” They said deeply, wiping their mouth of her before crawling up over her, the course wool of their uniform brushing along her sensitive skin. The Squad Leader was still fully dressed, while all she had left to her were her stockings and stays. Between the erotic sight and the coarse, aroused tone of voice, she could have dripped want onto the bedsheets below them. “I need you again,” Hange breathed into her as their lips traveled up from her thighs, to her stomach and over her stays. “Please - can I?”

Her head tilted back as they came closer. Their lips brushed as Hange begged, tasting like her.

She complied, her ‘yes’ whispered softly against their lips as they wrapping their arms around her and entangling their tongue into her mouth. She thought she should have done more, but it was difficult with such an eager lover as they were.

Already, their clever fingers were unlacing her from her stays, freeing her breasts to be groped and squeezed, as they bee-lined their exploring mouth down from her lips to her throat and down further to capture one of her nipples between their teeth.

Hange was not fooling her, she knew what they were doing. With every squeeze, lick or bite was data for their little experiment. What better way to understand a human body than to play with it?

Twice more they wrought out orgasms from her. With their fingers inside of her, then just from her clit, holding her naked body against their chest as they peered down over her shoulder, watching for themselves as their fingers sank in and out of her, the noises she made as she came again and again.

They could have probably gone on longer, especially as they had shook off any attempt at pleasure for themselves, but her body felt too thoroughly used to continue, much to their disappointment.

“I want to do this to you constantly.” Hange revealed hotly, still rubbing the inside of her thigh, squeezing her muscle there before releasing her.

“That would make our work more difficult to complete.” She replied, feeling soft and well-fucked, the pleasant buzz between her thighs lulling her to sleep.

”No - I really want to. I want you every night. Every morning. Every second you’ll let me… I don’t know how I’ll be able to walk out of this room and not be thinking about this more than I think about breathing.” The admission was more than just of desire. More than a childish crush.

To be honest, she didn’t love Hange. Until that evening, she dreaded their presence and overwhelming personality.

But she might be able to. If she saw more of this Hange. The Hange who didn’t push her, who respected her, who was more earnest and honest in their speech than loud and reaching…

“You speak as if you’ll never come back here again.” She decided to say, tilting her head to capture their deep brown eyes with hers.

They widened, just marginally, and a flush warmed over their cheeks. “I - you’d want me back?”

She touched Hange’s hand, brushing her fingers over theirs, smoothing over the coarse knuckles. ”If it didn’t interfere with our work, I don’t see why not.” She said honestly.

The light came over their face like they’d just raced the dawn - pure joy.

”Yes! Yes, it wouldn’t, swear. Hey - it’s a Scout’s Honor!” They declared noisily, unable to help themselves, but that was a given.

Of course, so was the fact that they’d fail at not letting this affect their work, too.