Chapter Text
The headquarters of the External Strategy Department was unusually quiet, a stark contrast to the chaotic symphony of diplomacy that usually defined its daylight hours. Gone were the endless footsteps of diplomats, the hurried scurrying of aides, and the rhythmic thumping of Bangboo assistants that filled the marble halls. Only the faint, sterile hum of fluorescent lights and the occasional, lonely clacking of a keyboard disturbed the heavy silence of the night.
Inside the Administrative Director's office, the air was thick with the scent of old paper and stale caffeine. Velina Airgid sat alone behind an enormous desk that had vanished beneath towering stacks of paperwork.The elegant woman looked every bit the image of grace despite the crushing late hour. Her long silver hair flowed over the back of her leather chair, while the oversized white bow and tiny hat atop her head remained perfectly in place, defying gravity and exhaustion alike. Her lavender eyes, sharp and piercing, scanned another diplomatic report with unwavering precision, absorbing every clause and contingency.
Her blue dress, embroidered with intricate silver patterns that caught the harsh office lighting, was immaculate, not a single wrinkle marring the fabric. She was the picture of professional control, the "Death Witch" of the Bangboo bureaucracy, the unshakeable pillar of the Marcel Group.
Only one thing betrayed her exhaustion.
A tiny, barely audible sigh escaped her lips. She reached up, her fingers trembling slightly, and rubbed the bridge of her nose where a headache had begun to bloom hours ago.
"Another border cooperation proposal..." she murmured, her voice lacking its usual melodic lilt. She picked up another file, the paper feeling heavy in her hand."...followed by Roscaelifer trade negotiations, Bangboo retirement appeals..." She paused, her eyes darting to the corner of the desk where she had been tallying the workload. "...and forty-seven documents requiring my signature."
She froze. "Forty-seven?"
Velina blinked, her lavender eyes widening slightly. "When did it become forty-seven?"
A nearby Bangboo assistant, who had been dozing in the corner, carefully raised one tiny paw, its electronic eyes dimming.
"Ehn-na...Ehn-na..(Actually it's Thirty two)"
"Thirty-two?" Velina asked, hope rising in her chest.
The Bangboo slowly shook its head, the motion stiff and mechanical.
"Ehn...(Yes)"
Velina closed her eyes, the weight of the number settling over her shoulders like a physical mantle. "I see."
She had lost count hours ago.
Her mind drifted back to three hours earlier. Norma had poked her head into the office, looking concerned amidst the sea of files. "Val, you should really head home."
"I will," Velina had replied automatically, not looking up from a treaty regarding cross-border thorn trade.
"You said that four hours ago."
"I meant it."
Norma had looked at the mountain of paperwork with skepticism. "No, you didn't."
Velina had offered her usual refined, practiced smile. "I assure you, everything is under control."
Norma had sighed, the sound echoing the resignation Velina felt now.
Presently, Velina finished another document, the scratch of her pen the only sound in the room. She reached for her teacup, seeking the comfort of the dark, bitter liquid. It was empty. A rare look of genuine disappointment crossed her face, cracking her mask of composure.
"I've run out."
The realization somehow felt more devastating than the paperwork. She quietly leaned back, the leather creaking under her shift in weight. "My fifth pot..."
Gone.
For perhaps the first time all evening, she looked tired. Not physically,her posture was still perfect, her attire pristine but mentally. The fatigue had seeped into her bones, turning her limbs to lead. She loved her work. She truly did. Helping others, protecting the Bangboo, maintaining peace between Roscaelifer and New Eridu... those responsibilities gave her purpose. But even purpose could become heavy. Very heavy.
A soft knock echoed from outside her office, startling her out of her malaise.
"Come in," she called out, expecting another courier, another diplomat, another emergency to add to the forty-seven.
The door slowly opened.
Velina prepared her professional smile, but it vanished the moment she saw who stood in the doorway.
"Working yourself to death again?"
Her lavender eyes widened. Standing there was a young man in an elegant dark suit, his presence instantly filling the sterile room with warmth and chaotic energy. His fiery red hair flared wildly in every direction like a lion's mane, defying the strict grooming standards of the department. Azure-tinted sunglasses rested over hazel eyes despite the late hour, and three earrings glimmered on his left ear. His tie hung slightly loose, suggesting a man who had already undone his collar for the night.
In one hand, he carried a paper bag that smelled deliciously of grease and sugar. In the other, a thermos.
"Galileo?"
Her composed smile disappeared. Not from worry, but from complete surprise."What are you doing here?"
Galileo grinned, leaning against the doorframe. "I brought dinner." He lifted the bag. "And dessert." Then the thermos. "And your favorite black tea."
Velina stared at him, the warmth of the thermos seeming to radiate across the room. "You remembered."
Galileo looked genuinely offended, pushing off the frame and walking inside. "Vel. I'm your husband." He moved with a predatory grace, placing the food and drink onto the only clear corner of her desk. "I know exactly how many hours you've been here."
He looked at the untouched paperwork, then back at her, his voice softening. "Honey."
"Yes?"
"Have you eaten today?"
"I had tea," she said defensively.
"Vel."
"There were biscuits," she added, though the argument sounded weak even to her own ears.
Galileo pinched the bridge of his nose, sighing dramatically. "That doesn't count."
"It had raisins."
"It especially doesn't count."
A few minutes later, the aroma of warm sandwiches, soup, and fresh fruit filled the office, overpowering the scent of old paper. Velina sat quietly while Galileo unpacked dinner, placing a slice of cake right in front of her. Her stomach betrayed her with a loud, rumbling growl that echoed in the silence.
Velina slowly covered her face with her hands, her skin flushing hot. "I had hoped no one heard that."
Galileo burst into laughter, the sound rich and unreserved. "There she is."
"Excuse me?"
"My adorable workaholic wife."
"I am not adorable," she said through her fingers, though her voice lacked its usual bite.
He smiles,"You absolutely are."
"I am the Administrative Director."
"You can be both."
"I disagree."
"You didn't deny the workaholic part."
"I have no rebuttal," she admitted, finally lowering her hands to pick up a sandwich.
"(Lemon scene incoming.Don't like it,skip to the end)"
When she eventually stood up to throw away her garbage, the moment of respite ended. She felt two strong hands grab her breasts, squeezing them firmly through the fabric of her blue dress. She gasped, turning around to see Galileo with a knowing, hungry smile.
"Ah..Honey, we're in public and in the office," she hissed, though she didn't pull away immediately.
One of his hands slid down, gripping her ass possessively.
"Makes it even more enticing, doesn't it?" he murmured, his voice dropping an octave.
A soft moan escaped her throat before she could stop it. The door was closed, and it was the middle of the night, but the thrill of the location sent a jolt of electricity down her spine. She exhaled shakily, her resolve crumbling under his touch. "Only for a minute."
She turned around, her hands moving with urgent haste. She unzipped his pants, freeing his already hard cock. It sprang out, thick and throbbing, and she didn't hesitate. She dropped to her knees, right there on the office carpet, and proceeded to lick and suck on the head of his dick.
Galileo groaned, placing a hand on her head, his fingers tangling in her silver hair. "Fuck, Vel..."
She couldn't believe it, but she was doing this here, of all places. The taste of him, salty and masculine, filled her mouth. She took him deeper, her tongue swirling around the shaft, hollowing her cheeks as she sucked. The risk of being caught, the absurdity of the situation, it all fueled her arousal. She was the Death Witch, the unshakeable Director, and here she was, worshipping her husband's cock in her government office.
Suddenly, Galileo gripped her arms and hauled her up. He lifted her effortlessly, placing her onto the edge of her heavy wooden desk. He pushed up her skirt, his hands rough against her thighs, and pulled down her white panties, leaving them dangling around one ankle.
"If anyone sees this—" Velina started, her heart hammering against her ribs.
"No one's going to see this, dear," he cut her off, stepping between her spread legs. He lined himself up with her wet pussy, the head of his cock teasing her entrance.
He pushed inside, sinking deep into her heat with a slow, deliberate pace. Velina whimpered, her head falling back.
She reached behind her, grabbing his hands and pulling them around to her chest. She guided his fingers into the openings of her dress bodice, forcing him to resume the massage. He found her nipples, rolling the hard buds between his thumb and forefinger, pinching them just hard enough to make her gasp.
He began to move, thrusting into her with a steady rhythm that rattled the items on the desk.
"It is a bad time we should talk about having children, isn't it?" he whispered in her ear, his breath hot against her skin.
"Stop teasing me," she moaned, her walls clenching around him.
He smacked her ass hard, the sound sharp and loud in the quiet office. Velina yelped, the sting mixing with the pleasure building in her core.
"Behave," she scolded breathlessly, though she pushed back against him, taking him deeper.
She leaned back, turning her head to capture his lips in a searing kiss. He felt her walls tightening, her pussy milking his cock as her orgasm approached.
"Ah..Ah..Ah..Close," she gasped against his mouth. "Keep going. Just like that."
He did as he was told, driving into her relentlessly, the desk scraping against the floor with every thrust. The pressure snapped inside her, and she climaxed hard, her body shaking, crying out into the empty room. At the same time, he groaned, burying himself to the hilt as he came, pumping his hot cum deep into her womb, filling her up completely.
For a moment, the only sound was their ragged breathing. Velina slumped against him, her body limp and sated. Slowly, carefully, she pulled away, fixing her clothes. She smoothed down her skirt, pulled up her panties, and adjusted her bodice, trying to regain some semblance of the Administrative Director.
She looked at him, her face flushed but her expression stern. "This is the only time we're doing this."
Galileo smiled, that infuriatingly handsome grin, but she cut him off with a glare that said she meant it. She picked up her pen, her hand steady once again, and looked back at the forty-seventh document.