Chapter Text
Bronya remains at her desk for a few more minutes, staring thoughtfully into space. She can't stop thinking about how easily Seele had gotten to her. It's infuriating. And yet... she can't stop thinking about that smile. How effortless the flirting felt. And that pen is definitely going missing in the morning's inventory checks.
Eventually, Bronya stands up. She checks and double-checks her appearance in a small mirror, adjusts her dress, tugs at her hair a few times, takes Seele's scarf and throws it around her neck, taking a good look at herself. She even smells like Seele. And then she pauses, realizing what she's doing.
Bronya's fingers freeze mid-adjustment as reality crashes down. The scarf smells like engine grease, faint sweat, and something stubbornly Seele. Warm in such a way no Belobog perfume could replicate. She rips it off as it burns her, tossing it onto the chair Seele had "claimed" earlier.
"Aeons, what am I— No. Absolutely not."
She paces twice around the desk before snatching the scarf back up with a growl. "Fine. But only because she'll whine if I don't return it."
A pause. Then she presses the fabric to her face again for half a second before stuffing it violently into a drawer and locking it with unnecessary force.
Later that night: The Supreme Guardian personally delivers the scarf to Wildfire HQ... in a sealed Silvermane Guard evidence bag labeled "STOLEN PROPERTY - RETURN TO OWNER."
The attached note reads:
"Next time you forget something in my office, I’m charging you rent."
(The handwriting is suspiciously neat for such a petty threat.)
Three days later, Bronya finds a crudely wrapped package on her desk. Inside: the stolen pen, a single ration bar (squashed), and a note scrawled in terrible handwriting:
"Rent paid. Next time I forget something... maybe it’ll be me."
Below that, as if an afterthought:
"P.S. You look better in my scarf than I do."
When questioned, no guards admit to seeing Seele slip into Qlipoth Fort. But two Silvermanes are later spotted snickering behind their helmets.
Bronya stares at the package for a full minute, fingers hovering over the contents. The ration bar looks like it’s been through a warzone, and the note is so aggressively Seele that she can practically hear her voice taunting her.
"Ridiculous," she mutters, but there’s no heat in it. Just... something softer, something she refuses to name.
The pen gets returned to its proper place with exaggerated care. The ration bar gets tucked into a drawer for "emergencies." And the note?
...
It vanishes into Bronya’s breast pocket, tucked right next to where her heartbeat thrums just a little too fast.
She wears Seele’s scarf on patrol that week. No one dares comment.
A month passes, punctuated by little "gifts" and threats. A missing pair of gloves. A forgotten jacket. The occasional hand-scratched note demanding money, rent, snacks... and always with that damnable P.S. "You look better in my scarf."
Bronya's office has become a testament to their odd little game. An entire drawer is now filled with "ransom" and confiscated personal effects, and that damnable scarf is almost always within reach. Or on her neck when the days are particularly cold, still smelling like Seele, though it's losing its scent.
In stark contrast, Bronya's work hasn't dulled her. Silvermane Guards report record-high approval ratings. Citizens have new jobs, new programs,s and incentives to join the Guards, and a stronger sense of unity. The first temporary housing facilities have gone up in the Underworld.
One night, while poring over some paperwork, Bronya lets out a heavy sigh and buries her face in her hands. "...I need a vacation."
Seele, by contrast, is having a splendid time tormenting Bronya by proxy. When she's not "forgetting" things in the Supreme Guardian's office, she's teasing her through Wildfire's messenger service.
At first, it was just little things—a teasing note here, a teasing quip there. But when she realized Bronya was keeping all her "ransom demands" and "evidence," it soon became a personal challenge to see just what she could get away with.
Her favorite "game" is the weekly ransom notes. With a new demand every time.
A few of "ransom demands" later (and a few missing items returned, sometimes after a week, sometimes a day), Bronya is in the middle of reading Seele's latest demand for an almost absurd amount of money when her door slides open and Seele saunters in. She looks smug; she knows Bronya was reading notes again.
"You're not subtle, you know," Seele says without preamble. She drops into her self-assigned chair, grinning up at Bronya. "But I've gotta say, you wear my scarf really, really well."
Bronya jumps at her voice, quickly hiding the note in her hand. She turns to face Seele with an expression of sheer flustered fury.
"You—! You can't just barge into my office!"
She cuts herself off with a deep breath, composing herself with visible effort. When she speaks again, her voice is carefully calm.
"What if you'd walked in on a sensitive meeting? Or a security briefing? Or—" Seele grins. She knows all of those are scheduled for the late evenings.
Bronya sighs; it's a better time than ever... She holds Seele's scarf close to her nose and inhales its scent before handing it back. "It doesn't smell like you anymore... uhm, change that. Orders of the Supreme Guardian."
Seele snorts a laugh, accepting the folded scarf with a knowing grin.
"Oh, don't play all formal with me, Bronya. I know you only use that tone when you're embarrassed." She leans back in that damn chair, lazily twirling one end of the scarf around a finger. "And just so you know, I was going to knock on your door, but then I heard you reading those."
She points at the ransom notes, still visible on the desk. Her smug grin widens.
Bronya's composure cracks audibly her glove squeaks as she clenches her fist around the notes, face burning. A Supreme Guardian does not stammer, so what comes out is a perfectly measured:
"I was reviewing them. Strategically. To anticipate your next attempt at theft or workplace disruption."
This… is a lie. The most recent note, the one still half-crumpled in her grip, reads: "Ransom: 1 Bronya Rand. Payment due immediately."
Seele stretches like a satisfied cat, popping the scarf around her own neck with exaggerated flair. "Uh-huh. Well, since we're being strategic..."
She leans forward suddenly, eyes glinting. "Then you already know my next move."
It's a testament to Bronya's training that she doesn't physically jump at Seele's proximity. Her expression remains coolly composed... as if her entire neck isn't flushing hot.
She lifts her head, utterly refusing to look away. "Oh? And what's your next strategic step, hmm? More 'ransom demands'? More petty thievery?"
Seele grins, a devilish, wolfish grin that makes Bronya's heart do stupid little flips in her chest. She leans closer, voice dropping. "Just one. Very simple demand."
She reaches out to tug a loose hair from Bronya's perfect ponytail. The Supreme Guardian doesn't move, frozen as Seele twirls the lock between her fingers, her expression soft.
"I'll be a thief... Can I steal your first kiss?"
The temperature in the room skyrockets. No training in the world can stop the furious blush that floods up Bronya's neck, the rapid thump-thumping of her pulse. Seele's proximity, Seele's words... she's already feeling like a deer in a hunter's sights.
But a Supreme Guardian is more than a deer, and she meets Seele's gaze with a hard glint. "And what if I deny your request?" she retorts, voice only slightly thicker than usual.
"I think I'd cry. I was just hoping you'd just lean in like right now," Seele says with a deep sigh.
"But I'll do as you say, Princess. This scarf will smell like me next time I send you a letter."
Bronya swallows hard at the casual use of 'princess,' the word sending unfamiliar shivers dancing along her spine. She doesn't even realize she's still holding Seele's gaze until the thief looks away, sighing theatrically. For a moment, she nearly wants to give in, to lean in, to say yes, to—
But she has a role, and she's duty-bound, and the thought of the Silvermane Guards seeing her flushed and undone like that is terrifying. So she swallows, hard.
"Leave."
Seele's eyebrows shoot up, her cocky smile faltering. She's used to Bronya blushing at her teasing, used to seeing hints of flustered embarrassment... but this was different. A new emotion flickers across the Supreme Guardian's expression, almost like fear.
It's unsettling, and for the first time, Seele actually feels guilty. She stands up, forcing a half-smile.
"Yeah, of course. I've got some... stuff to do..."
Bronya's hands tremble slightly as she watches Seele retreat, her own breath coming too fast. The moment the door clicks shut, she sinks into her chair like a puppet with cut strings.
For five full minutes, she stares at the ransom notes still scattered across her desk, including the one that reads: "Payment due: 1 Bronya Rand." Her fingers trace over it absently before crumpling it violently in her fist.
"...Aeons damn you, Seele," she whispers to the empty room. The scarf remains locked in her drawer. She doesn’t wear it again for weeks.
Seele leaves Qlipoth Fort feeling strangely hollow. She's used to teasing Bronya. She’s used to getting a rise out of Bronya, to seeing the girl's cheeks flame pink, to hearing those little stutters, to seeing that tiny flicker of vulnerability.
But there'd been something different this time. Something... off. The way Bronya had looked at her.
Seele tries to brush it off, tries to forget it, but... it eats at her. She's never wanted to make Bronya uncomfortable because of her. She's a tease, sure, a thief, a scoundrel, a flirt, an occasional pain in the ass... but she isn't a bully.
Days later, her restlessness reaches fever pitch, and she finds herself standing outside the familiar facade of Qlipoth Fort. She stares at the towering gates for a full minute, debating the wisdom of entering. But some impulse drives her inside to sneak another letter.
Bronya has spent the days since their last meeting trying to forget Seele. She immerses herself in work, in paperwork, in security briefings, in planning the construction of new housing in the Underworld, in supervising the Silvermane Guards' patrols... anything to keep herself occupied. A part of her is hyper-aware of every little sound, half-expecting Seele to come sauntering through her door. But it never happens.
That is, until a note slips under her door. For a second, she freezes... then grabs it.
The folded paper is suspiciously thick—no hastily scrawled taunt this time. Inside, Bronya finds:
1. Her missing pen (polished to a shine)
2. A single silver key (to the drawer where she’d hidden the scarf)
3. A proper letter:
Bronya,
I messed up.
I don’t know what made you uncomfy you, but it wasn’t supposed to.
You can keep the scarf or burn it. Up to you.
—S
No smirk. No teasing, P.S. Just… an apology. The handwriting is uncharacteristically careful.
Bronya's fingers tremble as she traces the words - this unfamiliar, sincere version of Seele's handwriting. The Supreme Guardian, who never falters in public, presses the letter to her chest as hot tears spill down her cheeks.
That night, after hours:
A Silvermane messenger delivers a single item to Wildfire HQ - Bronya's official seal stamped on an envelope containing:
1. The scarf, now faintly carrying Bronya's perfume
2. And a note in perfect cursive:
"Your turn to wear mine."
—B.
When Seele unfolds the scarf, she finds it still warm from being held against someone's heartbeat all day and smells just like Bronya.
It takes Seele a full five minutes to process what's in the envelope, and when it sinks in, her chest tightens so hard she nearly doubles over.
Seele buries her face into the cloth, breathing in that familiar scent so hard she gets lightheaded. Something in her chest aches at that familiar scent—
She doesn't let go for a very, very long time.
The next few days are strange. Bronya tries to stay immersed in her usual routine, but every mundane activity- signing documents, writing reports, giving orders, overseeing plans seems… dull. Her thoughts wander, her eyes drifting toward the window. Searching for a hint of purple hair and a matching flash of violet eyes.
On two separate occasions, she catches herself reaching up to finger a scarf that isn't there, only to drop her hand numbly to her side.
It's driving her insane.
The urge to see Seele is a living, breathing thing. It claws at her mind when she's supposed to remain stoic, it gnaws at her when she's trying to focus on paperwork, it thrashes in her ribcage whenever her thoughts wander.
It keeps her awake at night, restless, staring blankly at the ceiling of her bed. It whispers her name like a mantra when she's falling asleep: Seele, Seele, Seele—
Bronya hates this. Hates how vulnerable, how weak, how ridiculous it all is. She also concludes she's probably bi.
On the fifth night of this torment, Bronya does something wildly out of character: she sneaks out of Qlipoth Fort in civilian clothes, a hood pulled low as she navigates the dimly lit streets toward Wildfire HQ. Her heart pounds like a Silvermane drumline. This is reckless, undignified, utterly beneath a Supreme Guardian.
She stops at Seele’s usual haunts, the maintenance tunnels, Natasha’s clinic, even that dingy place where underground fighters gather. No luck.
Just as she’s about to give up… A familiar voice rings out from a shadowed alleyway.
“Looking for someone?” Seele leans against the wall, arms crossed, wearing her scarf. That’s now Bronya’s. Now leased back to Seele.
The sight punches the air from Bronya’s lungs, to the point that she starts coughing, partially because of the bad air of the Underground.
Bronya's coughing fit gives Seele just enough time to take in the sight of her. Hood askew, face flushed, looking so un-Supreme-Guardian-like that it steals Seele's breath too. She pushes off the wall immediately, hands hovering as if she wants to help but isn't sure she's allowed.
"Hey, hey, breathe, you damn Overworlder," she chides, voice thick with concern despite the teasing words.
"What’re you even doing down here? Your lungs aren’t built for this stale-ass air...Were you really looking for me?"
The hope in Seele’s voice is painfully obvious. "Fuck, you're just as hopeless as me."
Bronya finally manages to stop coughing, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand as she glares up at Seele through slightly watery eyes. Her pride is screaming at this undignified display, but something else, something far more dangerous, is louder.
"Don't flatter yourself," she rasps, straightening up with all the dignity she can muster while still wheezing slightly. "I was just... inspecting Underworld infrastructure. Obviously."
The lie is so transparent it practically glows. Also, she’s wearing street clothes. Bronya Rand does not do "street clothes."
Seele grins like she’s just won the world. She steps closer—close enough that Bronya can smell her own perfume lingering on the scarf around Seele’s neck.
"Mmmhm. And I bet you ‘inspect’ things by standing in dark alleys looking lost and adorable too?"
Bronya stiffens at "adorable," her flush deepening. She opens her mouth to protest, to deflect, but the words die when Seele's fingers brush hers in the dim alleyway light.
A beat of silence. Then Bronya exhales shakily, shoulders slumping in defeat.
"...Shut up." It comes out embarrassingly small. Her fingers twitch against Seele’s, not pulling away.
Seele's grin softens into something warmer, her fingers intertwining with Bronya's without hesitation. She steps closer, so close that their breaths mingle in the cold Underground air, and gives the Supreme Guardian's hand a gentle squeeze.
"Took you long enough," she murmurs, voice low and teasing but impossibly fond. "Now come on, let’s get you someplace where you can actually breathe before your lungs give out."
Bronya doesn't resist as Seele tugs her forward into the dim glow of a sodium light, still holding tight to her hand. The scarf around Seele’s neck smells like both of them now… just as it should.
Bronya lets herself be dragged through the darkened streets of the Underworld, her fingers warm against Seele's as the thief weaves through alleys and shadowed back roads like it's second nature. Her pulse thwaps painfully against her ribcage, but now it's no longer from nerves.
For once, she doesn't worry about her appearance or her reputation or anything except holding tight to Seele's hand and following her through the streets. She'd follow this infuriating person anywhere, into a fire, into space, or into the snowstorm of the Eternal Freeze itself.
Seele can feel Bronya's rapid pulse against her skin, can almost feel the heat radiating from her flushed cheeks even in the chill of the Underground. Her own heart feels like it'll beat straight out of her chest, and her fingers itch to pull the girl closer against her. But for now, she keeps up the casual teasing tone as she leads her through the streets.
"You're pretty damn quiet tonight, Overworlder," she quips. "I didn't think I'd see the day when the great Supreme Guardian is left speechless by a little stroll."
Bronya exhales through her nose, half exasperation, half amusement, as she tightens her grip on Seele's hand just enough to pinch her knuckles in warning.
"Speechless? Please. I'm simply reserving my breath for oxygen rather than wasting it on your nonsense." She says this while actively letting herself be towed through back alleys by a member of Wildfire. The hypocrisy is palpable.
Somewhere above them, the Architects of Qlipoth Fort are rolling in their celestial graves at this blatant dereliction of dignity.
Seele cackles, swinging their joined hands between them as they emerge into a secluded courtyard dotted with flickering lamplight, one of Wildfire's safer haunts. She turns abruptly, forcing Bronya to stumble forward until they're toe-to-toe again.
"Admit it," she murmurs, "you missed me."
Bronya nearly runs into her chest, just barely stifling an undignified squeak as Seele spins her around. But before she can regain her composure, Seele's smirk is inches from her face, violet eyes glimmering with familiar challenge. The Supreme Guardian feels that strange, fluttering feeling in her chest again.
She swallows hard, heart still pounding. When she answers, her voice is embarrassingly quiet and breathless.
"...I'll admit to nothing, you obnoxious little thief." Then even quieter.
"...The thief that stole my heart."
Seele stops and lets out a shuddered breath. FUCK. She didn't think she'd ever get this far. Bronya started as someone to tease; now she's here. And a small heat was building in her stomach.
"Hah, well, let this thief steal something even more. Can I steal your first kiss, and no backing out this time?"
Bronya's eyes widened partly because of the bluntness, partly because her pulse just went from hammering to fluttering like a panicked moth. She knows she should be horrified, and a part of her is. But the rest of her, the part that's been thinking, dreaming of this for a week, is suddenly very, very certain.
She swallows hard, lifting her chin in a familiar act of defiance. A challenge.
"Try."
The single word hits Seele like a train, stealing her breath all over again. She stares at Bronya, the blush across her cheeks, the stubborn tilt of her chin, the determination in her bright eyes, and feels something dangerously like joy welling in her chest.
Her lips curve into an utterly smitten grin, eyes softening as she takes a step closer, until there's barely any space between them at all. Her fingers, still clasped in Bronya's, tighten just a fraction a subtle question without ever asking.
Bronya's breath catches. Suddenly, she's hyperaware of every point of contact between them the fingers still tangled tightly with her, the brush of Seele's jacket against her skin. All of it feels hot, impossibly intimate. Her heart thuds painfully against her ribs, and she's glad the dim light hides the flush across her face.
She makes her own choice: she moves even closer, closing the gap between them, until they're pressed together, chests almost touching.
And she looks up, directly into Seele's eyes. And wait.
Seele's heart almost stops entirely at the sudden proximity, her pulse thundering in her throat. She can feel the heat radiating off the Supreme Guardian. Bronya is flushed, breathless, utterly disheveled, and still so damn adorable it makes her chest ache. She lifts her free hand, reaching out to tuck a loose strand of hair behind Bronya's ear. And when her fingers brush the heated blush across the girl's cheek, something in her snaps.
Her hand slides down, tracing the line of Bronya's jaw, her palm coming to rest against the nape of her neck.
Bronya's eyes flutter shut as Seele's fingers trace her cheek and neck, shivering at the brush of calloused but gentle fingertips against her heated skin. She can barely think, her body suddenly aching all over, everything focused on the point of contact between the two of them. Her hands curl into fists, gripping Seele's jacket like it's the only thing keeping her on her feet. In the back of her mind, a part of her that's still sane is horrified. The rest of her just wants more.
Seele's breath hitches when Bronya fists her jacket, like she's afraid the Supreme Guardian might pull away. But then Bronya presses closer, tilting her head up in wordless permission, and Seele feels like she's been set on fire.
She kisses her.
It’s not graceful; their noses bump, teeth click, and Seele nearly trips over her own boots. But the moment their lips meet properly, all hesitation evaporates. Bronya makes a small noise against her mouth, something between a gasp and a whimper, fingers tightening in Seele’s jacket like she’ll die if she lets go.
And damn if that doesn't ruin Seele forever.
When they finally pull apart, breathless and dazed, Bronya's cheeks are flushed crimson, but there’s a satisfied little smirk playing at her lips. She smooths down the wrinkles she left in Seele’s jacket with exaggerated care, then meets her gaze with uncharacteristic boldness.
"Payment collected," she murmurs, voice husky. "Now stop stealing my pens."
Seele sputters a laugh because, of course, Bronya would turn their first kiss into a business transaction. But the way her fingers linger against Seele’s waist betrays just how much she enjoyed it.
"Alright, Princess—" Seele says as she wipes their mixed saliva off her face.
Bronya flushes even deeper at the pet name, but she doesn't pull her hand away, letting it rest against Seele's side as if that alone is enough to ground her. She's breathless and shaky, her heart still pounding in her chest, but a fierce light sparks in her eyes as she gives Seele an indignant huff.
"Don't call me 'Princess'," she scolds, but the lack of bite in her voice gives her away. "And you still have my scarf."
Seele's grin turns downright feral as she tugs the scarf Bronya’s scarf, their scarf, higher around her neck with deliberate slowness. "Mm, sure I do. And guess what?"
She steps forward again, crowding Bronya against the alley wall this time, fingers tracing the collar of her hood where fabric meets flushed skin.
"You’ll just have to come get it, Your Highness."
Bronya hates how her breath catches. She also very much does not pull away.
"Eternal Winter, this is originally mine anyway."
Bronya makes an indignant noise, half protest, half laughter, as Seele pins her against the wall with that infuriating smirk. Her hands fly up to grip Seele's wrists, but she doesn't push her away. If anything, her fingers tighten possessively.
"Unbelievable," she huffs, though the way her gaze keeps flickering to Seele's lips betrays her.
"First my pens, then my scarf, now this? You're a menace." This being their still-close proximity, Seele's knee between hers, and the fact that Bronya is very much not ordering any Silvermane arrests right now.
Seele licks her lips deliberately just to watch Bronya's pupils dilate. "Yep," she agrees cheerfully.
The Supreme Guardian shivers—and not from the cold this time. Bronya opens her mouth, no doubt to deliver some scathing response. But all that leaves her lips is a breathless little sigh because Seele chooses right then to shift her weight, pressing her knee more firmly between Bronya's thighs. Bronya's grip on her wrists tightens, every muscle in her body suddenly taut, fingers white against Seele's skin.
Seele's grin only widens at the sight, and her gaze flicks down to where Bronya's jacket has pulled slightly open exposing the pale expanse of her throat and collarbone…
A small gasp escapes Bronya at the sudden friction, her breath catching as Seele's knee presses against a sensitive spot and sends a jolt of heat through her body. She feels suddenly dizzy, too hot, too overwhelmed. Her head lolls back against the wall as if in surrender. Her jacket collar slips open farther, revealing more flushed skin and the subtle line of her collarbones. Seele's gaze feels like a physical caress, and Bronya has to resist the urge to arch into the touch, desperate for more contact.
Seele's eyes darken as Bronya arches back against the wall, her jacket slipping open to reveal more tantalizing skin. She's so goddamn beautiful, flushed and breathless and so completely at Seele's mercy right now. She's never, ever seen Bronya look so utterly wrecked, and it goes straight to her head.
"You know," she murmurs, leaning in close enough that their lips brush against each other with each word. "You have a hell of a lot of nerve for someone so easy to pin right now."
Bronya shivers at each feather-light touch, heat pooling low in her stomach at every brush of Seele's breath against her neck. She's never felt so dizzy, so desperate, so needy it's like every nerve in her body is hyperaware. Her heart is hammering painfully, and she's almost sure Seele can feel the flutter of her pulse against her knuckles. The thief just keeps getting closer with each teasing word, knee still pressed firmly between Bronya's thighs.
"Shut… up," she manages. It comes out as a shaky gasp.
Seele laughs before sealing their lips together again. This kiss is not gentle. It’s teeth and tongue and Bronya’s muffled whimper as Seele pins her wrists above her head with one hand, the other sliding beneath her jacket to map the dip of her waist.
When they break apart, both gasping, Bronya’s lips are swollen, hair tousled beyond repair. Seele grins like she’s just conquered Belobog itself.
"Still wanna argue, Princess?"
Bronya doesn't. She really, really doesn't.
Seele makes sure to check for anyone around before continuing. If anyone from Wildfire knew about this... eh, it wouldn't be too bad. But if the Silvermane Guards knew, a whole other story.
Bronya's mind is a hazy mess of want, heat, and the faint ache of her wrists where Seele is gripping them above her head. The thief grins down at her, smug and utterly self-satisfied, and all Bronya can think is how very, very much she wants to kiss that damn smirk off her face.
For the life of her, she can't come up with any argument. So instead, she arches up as far as she can and nips at Seele's bottom lip.
"Shut up and kiss me again, idiot."
Bronya has to stifle a moan as Seele's tongue slides against hers, heat and want and that damned satisfied smile driving her mad. She's dizzy with heat, every nerve in her body tingling with need as the thief presses her more firmly against the wall. Bronya can barely even form words; her world has condensed into the point where their hips meet, the rough wall against her back, Seele's hands in hers, Seele's mouth-
"Stop gloating," she gasps between kisses, teeth catching on Seele's bottom lip in retaliation.
Seele actually yelps at the bite, then laughs, wild and bright, pressing Bronya harder into the wall as she steals another searing kiss. When she pulls back, their shared breath clouds the cold air, lips glistening. She thumbs at Bronya’s swollen lower lip with devastating smugness.
"Never," she declares. "You’re stuck with me now. Deal with it."
Bronya secretly plans to.