Chapter Text
A late-summer storm had descended upon the University of Salem campus, wind tearing through the Eastern hemlock-lined pathways, and rain lashing furiously at the late 18th-century Gothic stone buildings. Storm clouds overhead threatened to release a torrential downpour as thunder rumbled ominously in the distance.
Campus was dead silent, practically a ghost town. It was early morning, nearly 8am, but it was also quiet because the undergraduate students had yet to arrive for the new academic year yet; the post-grads hurrying between buildings weren’t bothering with umbrellas, because they would get ripped apart by the wind.
Agatha Harkness stood before the locked front entrance of the University of Salem Biomedical Research Centre, dressed impeccably. Draped in a navy pinstripe suit with a thick gray wool overcoat, Agatha had their hair piled on top of their head in a neat bun, glasses speckled with condensation perched on their nose.
Although their coat wasn’t waterproof and was in fact getting drenched through from the rain, their black boots were impermeable and hid the puffin-patterned sherpa socks they were wearing beneath them - a birthday gift from their eight-year-old son, Nicky.
The large cylindrical building loomed at the edge of the campus, all shiny steel, tinted glass, and fluorescent lights; it was a brand new building, only three years old now, specifically and specially built for the University’s ground-breaking oncology research division. It boasted a highly sophisticated card-access security system to ensure that all of the lab groups’ confidential experiments and precious data were kept safe and secure inside.
Unfortunately, that security system was riddled with bugs. One of which was refusing Agatha access to the building, as they repeatedly tapped their ID badge against the scanner again, and again, and again. Right light, after red light. ACCESS DENIED, the screen continued to flash at her.
Agatha growled under their breath furiously. “Unbelievable,” they muttered, almost snapping their ID card in half as they gave the reader a lethal, offended glare. “Fucking unbelievable. Access denied, and I’m the one who probably fucking paid for this building to even exist. Do you know how much grant money I bring into this institution?”
They slapped their card against the access point again. The security panel was mocking them at this point. Red light; the door remained stubbornly locked. Hopping up onto their tiptoes, balancing on their boots, Agatha peered blearily through the glass, trying to see if anybody inside might be able to open the door for them. It was too early for anybody to be on reception, and apparently too early for PhD students to be milling about as they usually did.
Raising their arm so their sleeve fell down to expose their watch, a titanium quartz Bering, engraved with the date they received their first Nature paper acceptance, Agatha shook their head, annoyed. They had thirteen minutes until their meeting was supposed to start, and since the security office was located on the other side of campus, twenty minutes away, there was no point in calling them to grant her access.
Huffing, Agatha dug around in their coat pockets for their spare card, the visitor’s pass that they swiped from reception several months ago, for Nicky to wear whenever he accompanied them to the office. Were they meant to have it? Technically speaking, no, as it hadn’t been signed out. Nobody seemed to have noticed it had gone missing, however, so Agatha kept it just in case ridiculous incidents like this occurred, where their access badge was mysteriously reduced to a useless slab of plastic.
Red. ACCESS DENIED.
Agatha narrowed their eyes. What was the fucking point of working as a Principal Investigator at this university and bringing in millions of dollars of funding every year if they couldn’t afford a working security system for the research building?
“Having trouble, Harkness?”
The voice was low, sly, and amused, and Agatha gritted their teeth, despising how a thrill ran down their spine upon recognition of the voice’s owner. Agatha did not turn around immediately, but soon found themself unable to resist the lure. Rio Vidal, a fellow PI, approached the building entrance as if she’d been summoned by Agatha’s spite.
The professor was dressed in a light brown tweed blazer paired with a matching high-waisted mini skirt and a crisp white blouse beneath it. Her lab ID card swung from her neck on a lesbian flag lanyard covered in pins, which had been little presents from students throughout her years of teaching. Many of those students - young women - possessed very obvious crushes on Rio, which were only magnified when they discovered Doctor Vidal’s Instagram; her page made it clear that she was a single lesbian in her late 40s, who rode a motorbike, played field hockey on weekends, and loved hiking in the Lynn Woods Reservation with her cute dog, a Blue Picardy Spaniel called Helix.
Agatha wasn’t immune to Rio’s charms. Although she was the bane of the professor’s existence, they were entirely capable of recognising that Rio was hot and absolutely their type. And Agatha was Rio’s.
Their heart skipping a beat, Agatha tried their very best not to stare at her long legs, which were wrapped in sheer dark brown tights. Rio’s dark chestnut curls were damp from the moisture in the air, but she had an umbrella up to keep her dry, her messenger bag slung carelessly over her shoulder so she could carry a take-out coffee in her other hand.
“Good morning, doctor,” Rio smirked, her voice smooth like velvet as she stepped closer - but far enough away that her umbrella did not offer Agatha any cover from the pounding rain. “Having difficulty with your card, there? Didn’t think you were the type to get locked out.”
“It’s not my card that’s the problem,” they replied coolly, tucking the visitor’s ID back into their pocket so that Rio wouldn’t spot it and rat them out. “The security system is clearly malfunctioning.”
Rio raised an eyebrow, raking her gaze up and down Agatha in a way that felt invasive, as if they were a specimen under a microscope being poked at. It made them shift awkwardly, a light heat blossoming in their cheeks as they raised their chin defiantly. “Uh-huh. Funny. My card worked perfectly fine earlier. Just went over to the hospital to grab coffee, Haematology’s machine is a lot better than ours,” Rio deadpanned, taking a long, slurping sip from her take-out cup.
Agatha’s gaze slipped - briefly, traitorously - to Rio’s mouth as she lowered her cup, swallowing as they watched her tongue dart out to catch a couple of stray drops of black coffee. Her lips were painted with a clear shimmering gloss today, one that Agatha knew tasted like strawberries.
Before they could begin to spiral, their mind sliding into a haze as they stared unabashedly at Rio’s mouth, Agatha’s phone chirped with the ten-minute warning alarm that they had set for every meeting in their calendar. They had one-hour and thirty-minute warnings set up as well, given that their ADHD often had them losing track of time.
Clenching their jaw, Agatha responded in a blunt voice, “Good for you. Now open the door.”
There was no please in it. There never was. It was a demand, one spoken with the authority that they knew they held over Rio. Their voice carried a commanding tone that they knew in other settings, would cause Rio to instantly bow in submission and fall to her knees.
But this time, Rio laughed, her hazel eyes piercing as she teased, “Oh, this is rich, you’re asking me for help?”
“No, I’m not asking, I’m telling you to use your obviously functional badge so we can attend the meeting we are both required at,” Agatha corrected in an overly sweet, nearing sarcastic tone, tossing their head so that the soaked-through stray stands of hair that had escaped their bun were no longer hanging down over their face. They were all too aware of the fact that a puddle was forming beneath their feet, the rain dripping from their coat. “Unless you’re planning to explain to the department chair why two principal investigators missed Dr. Caldaru’s presentation on the preliminary data for that new trial grant.”
Rio’s lips twitched. She sidled closer, angling herself so that she was just beneath the entranceway’s overhang. It was several feet away from the security access point, which was why Agatha wasn’t standing undercover. “The CAR-T trial grant,” she hummed, shaking off her umbrella. “The one you and I are both fighting to be Lilia’s co-investigator on?” Rio pretended to check her own watch. “Maybe I shouldn’t let you in, given that you are my competition.”
The laugh that burst from Agatha’s lips was low and dangerous. Rio wouldn’t fucking dare. They were both decorated PIs at the university, and although they both ran research labs working on pediatric blood cancers, they were focused on different diseases: Agatha on acute lymphoblastic leukaemia, and Rio on acute myeloid leukaemia. Both diseases were aggressive and life-threatening for infants and toddlers; pediatric ALL was more common in toddlers and therefore diagnosed more frequently, but had better treatment outcomes, while pediatric AML was rarer, often more genetically complex, and more difficult to treat.
Because they were both working on blood cancers, though, it meant that they regularly ended up applying and competing for the same grants. They had been locked in a war that had now lasted nearly a decade, trying to constantly beat each other out on funding and publishing opportunities. They’d both had their wins and losses over the years, but given that funding was even tighter now than it had ever been, the futures of their labs depended on whether or not their research was translatable enough to acquire funding for clinical trials.
Dr. Lilia Caldaru, the Head of Haematology at Salem Hospital, a clinical academic and clinical consultant for both of their labs, had acquired blanket funding for a pediatric blood cancer CAR-T cell therapy trial. Today’s meeting was going to determine whether Agatha or Rio would be the academic research co-I on it.
“A competition is only worth it when one’s opponent actually shows up,” Agatha countered, with a smile that was all teeth.
“But one’s opponent not making an appearance makes it oh so easy to win,” Rio purred.
So that was how Rio wanted to play it? Okay. If Rio was going to play dirty, then Agatha would play dirtier. They had an ace up their sleeve, which they had been hiding for months now, because they knew would drive their research rival completely insane. Agatha would give her a glimpse at their hand.
“Oh, Rio, come onnnn, be reasonable,” they began, voice dropping into honeyed persuasion. Slinking up to the professor, Agatha made a show out of brushing imaginary lint off of Rio’s blazer, using it as an opportunity to weasel a finger into one of her skirt’s belt loops so they could grasp onto it and yank her closer. Rio’s breathing started to stutter, her pupils dilating rapidly, as Agatha leaned in, purring, “If I miss this meeting, you miss the opportunity to watch me dismantle your flawed natural killer cell activation data in real time.”
Rio’s eyes flashed. “‘Flawed?’” The echoed word was barbed, but there was no mistaking the undercurrent of panic there.
“Embarrassingly so,” Agatha chuckled darkly, slinging their free arm over Rio’s shoulder to pluck playfully at her damp hair, twirling a lock around one finger.
Visibly irked, the professor shoved them away. “You’re lying,” she accused.
“Am I?” Agatha tilted their head.
“Yes. You always lie, especially to me, to fuck with my head. It’s pathological with you.”
Agatha leaned up against the building wall casually, not caring now about how wet they were getting because of the rain, because they were wet in another way now, which was a much more pressing concern. “I’m not lying, dear, I swear. Your model is functional, I’ll give you that, but the AML cell lines you used and the patient samples were all from adults. We’re researching pediatric leukaemia… where there’s systemic NK cell impairment. Did you take that into account?”
“Yes, that’s why post-chemo IL-2 treatment or NKG2D bispecific antibodies are necessary, to reactivate the NK cells to restore the patient’s immune system. We discussed that in our grant proposal,” Rio argued back, frowning.
“And what you failed to account for is that pediatric AML patients often can’t tolerate IL-2 treatment at the high-doses needed for effective NK cell restoration. Google the side effects, Dr. Vidal, in particular ‘capillary leak syndrome’,” Agatha sneered. Rio didn’t seem offended at all by their suggestion; in fact, she simply bowed her head thoughtfully. They wiggled their finger towards her ID badge, and then at the door. “Now I’ve helped you, time for you to help me. Let me in.” When the professor continued to hesitate, they needled, “Come on. You know you want me there. You love it, our rivalry, the tension.”
Rio scrutinized them, gaze flicking down to Agatha’s own card, then back up to their face. Their stony expression cracked, softening just ever so slightly. She discarded her nearly empty take-out coffee cup in the trash can behind her, folding up her umbrella and tucking it beneath her arm.
“Just so we’re clear,” she murmured, “I’m only letting you in because if Lilia chooses me for that grant, if I win, I want you there to witness it.”
And then she side-stepped past Agatha to brush her card against the security reader, which, within seconds, flashed green with the message ACCESS GRANTED.
Agatha grinned triumphantly. “Oh, sweetheart,” they said, eyes gleaming as the doors slid open. “I don’t lose, you know that. If you win, it’s because I allowed you to.”
When they strode forward into the curtain of warm air within the entrance of the reception area, they were abruptly stopped by Rio snagging onto the back of their jacket and tugging them back. They cast a glance over their shoulder, quirking an eyebrow as the professor wrapped her hand around Agatha’s bicep in an almost possessive manner, accompanying them to the elevator.
“You’re insufferable,” Rio told them, and from her exasperated expression, she was clearly trying to appear irritated, but the fondness in her voice was a confession as to her true feelings. “Rude, arrogant. You go into that meeting all puffed up like a peacock, Lilia is not going to be impressed, and you’ll make an ass out of yourself in front of everybody in both our labs. People don’t like you when you’re cocky, Agatha.”
Agatha pointedly looked down at where Rio’s fingers were curled around their elbow. “And yet you can’t seem to keep your hands off me,” they murmured. “I think you like it when I’m cocky, Rio… because you know that I’m not exaggerating what I’m packing.” They wiggled their eyebrows. “Literally.”
“Se cree muy salsa simplemente porque tiene una polla grande,” Rio muttered under her breath, the Spanish barely audible, but very easy to understand.
And Rio was right. Agatha did think they were the shit. Because they were.
The elevator announced its arrival with a cheerful chime. They travelled up to the fifth floor in silence, walking in sync as they strode through the corridors as if they owned them - which, given the money they both brought in to the institution, they practically did - until they reached the meeting room. Through the glass door, they could see all of their team members seated around the table waiting for them to arrive, and Lilia setting up her PowerPoint on the screen, connecting to Teams so that other clinical fellows could call in.
Agatha exhaled forcefully, detaching Rio’s hand from their arm so they could shake themself out. Nerves were only natural when an opportunity such as this one arose, but Agatha refused to allow themself to succumb to them. Their fingers fumbled with the locket around their neck, which contained a small cutting of their son’s hair, taken when he was a newborn. It functioned as their good luck charm. It was a reminder of exactly why they did all of this, and why it was worth the pain and disappointment that accompanied rejection, just as much as it was worth the triumphs they encountered.
“May the best PI win,” Rio declared, offering her hand. “Which, by the way, will be me.”
Agatha snorted. “Sure, hon.” Not one to sneer in the face of good sportsmanship, Agatha grasped Rio’s hand and shook it firmly. “My office, once the meeting ends?” they offered, unbothered by Rio seeing their hungry gaze flick up and down her body.
Rio smirked. “Give me ten minutes after, so I can debrief my team, and then we can talk.”
“Yes,” Agatha agreed with a lascivious grin. “'Talk'.”
Rio’s lip loss was indeed strawberry flavoured, Agatha mused, as they slammed the professor up against their desk, kissing her so ferociously that Rio moaned as she melted in Agatha’s arms. She was almost choking on Agatha’s tongue as they assaulted her mouth with it; the professor growled furiously as they practically devoured her, swallowing Rio’s whimpers while bruising her lips. They tore off their ID badge, and then Rio’s as well, flinging them aside so they wouldn’t get in the way.
“Told you I would win,” Rio gasped, in between kisses.
God, Agatha did not want to think about that right now. Losing out on a half-million-dollar research partnership with Salem Hospital’s clinical trial unit sucked majorly. Every rejection was like a stab to their chest, reminding them of their childhood, which was dark, painful, and better left forgotten.
Agatha had already instructed their post-docs, Jen and Wanda, to begin literature searches to disprove Rio’s theory on paediatric clonal haematopoiesis being primarily driven externally by therapy-related selective pressure. Agatha believed that Rio’s research didn’t take immune system stress into account, and didn’t address donor-derived leukaemia, which was incredibly rare in paediatric patients but was possible, given Agatha knew of a couple of ALL cases.
They were taking out their frustrations on Rio - and keeping her distracted - while their team scrambled to gather the evidence to send over to Lilia tonight. Rio had known what was coming as soon as they had shed their overcoat and suit jacket and tossed them on the peg by their office door to avoid getting them crinkled. She’d placed her phone on silent while setting her bag aside to ensure no disturbances.
“Shut the fuck up,” Agatha fired back, biting down on Rio’s lip until she keened, sagging against the desk.
Agatha liked to be the one in control, during these little sessions. Rio never complained and never fought back. The professor was just as eager as Agatha - she had one hand fisted in the professor’s hair, the bun destroyed by her clasping fingers, while the other one was frantically trying to unzip the fly of their suit pants. Rio whined into Agatha’s lips when she managed to push their pants down enough to expose their boxers, which were already soaked through from how aroused they were.
“Mierda, please tell me you brought your dick with you,” Rio rasped.
“God, you’re just fucking dying for a butch cock to stretch out that pretty pussy of yours, huh, sweetheart?” Agatha laughed. “Dr. Vidal, Dr. Harkness’s needy little cocksleeve. If only the students who swoon over you could see you now, begging for a dyke to strap you to tears in the middle of a workday because you’re a bitch in heat who can’t wait any longer.”
Rio squirmed, withdrawing her hand from their boxers so she could suck on the digits. “Did you bring your dick or not?” she pouted.
“Left ‘er in the car,” Agatha grumbled, already regretting that mistake. They’d been in a rush, having parked their Mazda CX-80 down by Chemistry instead of in their usual spot because Rio had once again beaten them to it and parked their stupid motorbike there. No matter. They were busy stripping Rio out of her blazer and unbuttoning her blouse to catch a glimpse of her tits, her nipples hard peaks beneath a delicious sage green bralette. “But we’ll make do, pretty girl, don’t you worry. I can still fuck you ‘til you break.”
Was it appropriate to be having vicious semi-public sex in Agatha’s office on a Thursday morning? No, of course not. But the office was secure, with card access needed to enter, soundproofed walls with no windows, and a solid wooden door, thanks to the fact that confidential trial data was stored in the cabinets and hard drives. It was virtually impossible that anybody would walk in on them or overhear their enthusiastic activities, and so with very little risk of getting caught, they could fuck as thoroughly and loudly as they wanted.
So they did. A lot.
They had been fucking each other casually, having midday no-strings-attached office sex for… shit, Agatha couldn’t actually remember how long now. Four or five years? At least once or twice a week… sometimes daily when they had a particularly trying student in the lab, testing their patience.
Rio was very good at sex - knew how to play and pluck the strings of Agatha’s body like an electric guitar - and was just as filthy and kinky as them. Agatha wielded a strap like a weapon they could use to subdue the most defiant of subs. Most of the time, they had hate sex after one of them beat the other on a grant application. Another trigger was when one of them had a paper rejected, whilst the other’s was accepted.
They never talked about it. They never engaged in anything outside of the lab building… apart from occasionally in their cars, or in the smoking shelter hidden behind the delivery point when they snuck out to share a blunt during finals months. Absolutely nothing occurred at either of their homes, and it couldn’t, anyway; Agatha had Nicky, and Rio had her dog.
Neither of them ever mentioned feelings or expressed any desire to make anything official or put a label on it. They didn’t even call it a situationship - it was just… sex. And that was how they liked it. It was, as far as they were both concerned, mutual stress relief.
“Get on the desk,” Agatha commanded in a rumbling growl.
Rio bit her lip sensually, daring them, “Make me.”
Agatha aggressively shoved Rio back against the desk, grabbing her waist to lift her so she was seated on the very edge. Papers went scattering everywhere. A pot of pens was swiped aside. An empty mug clattered onto the floor. Rio lay back, obediently raising her hips so that Agatha could shove Rio’s skirt up so it was bunched around her waist.
The sheer brown tights that made her long legs look so deliciously sinful were ripped without a thought; Agatha knew Rio didn’t bother buying expensive ones anymore because she knew the professor would ruin them. There was no need to bully Rio’s legs open - she spread her thighs to expose her panties, sage green flowery lace with an adorable bow to match her bralette, the gusset soaked through with her slick.
Agatha peeled the other professor’s underwear aside, their mouth watering. The thick dark patch of public hair on Rio’s mound was damp, beads of arousal clinging to the curly hairs around her cunt, which clenched ravenously. More droplets of cum emerged to coat Agatha’s long, nimble fingers as they swiped two digits through the mess.
“Baby… is this all for me? Greedy little slut, you’re leaking like a fucking faucet,” Agatha drawled, painting Rio’s clit with her own arousal so they could stroke their thumb over Rio’s glistening pearl. “Were you this wet during the meeting, Rio? I bet your tight, thirsty cunt was drooling so much that it stained that chair… I bet everybody in the room could smell it. Did you drench your panties listening to me destroy your in silico drug screening dataset? It turned you on, didn’t it?”
“Yes,” Rio choked out. She was palming at her own breasts through her bralette, plucking at her nipples. An obscene moan erupted from her parted lips when Agatha pinched her clit, rolling the throbbing nub between their thumb and forefinger. “Oh fuck, yes, so wet for you, Agatha, all for you.”
They tutted warningly. “Ah, no, not my name, pet. What do you call me?”
“Dr. Harkness,” Rio whispered, her voice strained with desire. “M’sorry, doctor, m’wet for you, so tight, so wet. Please, inside me, need your fingers, please.”
“Good girl.” Agatha clucked their tongue mockingly. “So polite.”
The professor yanked Rio’s panties back into place - only to slip their hand beneath the lace to cup her pussy in casual ownership. Their fingers slotted between Rio’s swollen labia, crooking up so their fingertips toyed with her hole. Agatha ground their palm against her clit until Rio was trembling and whining, her hips twitching up in tiny little desperate bucks in search of more stimulation.
Rio squealed like a cat whose tail was accidentally stepped on when the professor twisted her clit one last time and gave her pussy a light slap, before sliding two fingers knuckle-deep into her slippery cunt with a wet squelch. Rio’s walls rippled around the digits upon the intrusion.
“More,” the professor croaked, rocking herself down onto Agatha’s fingers. She cried out when they grazed her G-spot.
“More? I think you mean ‘whore’,” Agatha hummed. “I’m going to get you off with my fingers and then use you until I’m satisfied, do you understand?” When Rio bobbed her head in a nod, the professor lunged up to grab her throat, wet fingers squeezing her neck to apply pressure over her arteries. Rio’s pulse raced, thudding against her fingertips. “I said, do you understand, pet?” they thundered. “Verbal answer. You know I don’t like it when people just nod, it’s students’ favourite way to pretend they were paying attention during my lectures when they’re actually just doomscrolling TikTok on their phones.”
Breathless, Rio peered up at them with black, hooded eyes, looking utterly debauched already, half-naked as they were splayed out over Agatha’s desk like a deer being ravaged by a wolf. “By use me, do you mean you’re gonna get me to eat you out?” She sounded almost too giddy at the idea of being suffocated by Agatha’s thighs and drowning in their pussy juices.
“So eager to put that greedy mouth and tongue of yours to use, hmm?” Agatha smirked.
“Yes, doctor, please, I’ll eat you out so good.”
“Well, you certainly know how to use your mouth to convince grant panels to award you research funds… let’s see if you can use it to convince me you’ve earned more than one orgasm today.”
It was all too easy to have Rio shattering on their fingers in utter ecstasy in the next few minutes, as worked up as she was; all it took was some careful curls of Agatha’s fingers inside of her dripping, clenching cunt, caressing her G-spot, while squeezing her neck with her other hand to choke her out. She shook in rapture, bleating like a submissive little lamb.
Not long after that, Agatha had their pants down to their ankles as they slouched on their office chair. Rio settled on her knees in front of them and lapped at their cunt with the enthusiasm of a kitten presented with a bowl of fresh cream. Her face was barely visible because of how wild and thick Agatha’s curly bush was, but they didn’t need to see Rio’s face to know she was enjoying herself.
Agatha sighed happily, head lolling back in pleasure. They kept their hand fisted in Rio’s hair to maintain control over her head while she ate them out gleefully; the professor tugged on her hair like reins whenever they wanted Rio to suckle on their clit. They raked their fingers through it gently to praise her when she did something particularly amazing that made them see stars.
If Agatha hadn’t forgotten their strap in the car, they would have had Rio deepthroat them until she was gagging, her face drenched in tears. But this was good as well. While Agatha did enjoy topping and fucking their femme research rival until herlegs gave out, they also loved power bottoming the shit out of their fellow PI, who, as a service switch, was just grateful to be fed.
They loved seeing Rio become so pathetic and needy for them, especially after a rather humiliating meeting where she came out on top and Agatha was left aggravated and antsy. That seemed to be happening a lot recently - Rio being awarded more collaborations than them. Apparently, Agatha was ‘too abrasive’, even for the clinicians, who were self-described assholes.
William, Agatha’s research tech, had gingerly told them once that they would catch more flies with honey than vinegar, but Agatha had scoffed, firing back that people like her, who were better described as wasps, stole honey rather than dished it out.
Pussy drunk and pliant, Rio didn’t seem to give a singular shit about how sore her knees were going to be after all this. The one small embarrassing part of this situation was that Agatha’s office chair was a cheap one with wheels. It kept wobbling and sliding back and forth. One of the wheels was loose, and the side of that wheel actually pinged off when the chair rocked to the side whilst Rio engulfed Agatha’s whole pussy in her mouth and sucked. Her nose bumped their clit as she thrust her tongue inside of them, flicking up to drag against their upper wall.
Fuck the chair, Agatha thought dazedly. Who cared about the chair? They’d go steal the one from the post-docs' office later.
When Agatha exploded on Rio’s tongue, their orgasm slashed through their lower belly like a red-hot knife, causing their pussy to gush. “God - fuck - yes - good girl!” they exclaimed in a strangled voice.
Rio switched to tiny kitten licks as she lapped up all of their cum, nipping playfully at their upper thighs. But Agatha wasn’t finished yet. They had at least another two orgasms in them. Kicking off their boots, pants, and boxers, they barely allowed the other professor the chance to gulp down a couple of lungfuls of oxygen before throwing their legs over her shoulders and yanking her face back in.
“If you want to breathe, you make me come again,” they demanded. “Don’t you dare stop until you’ve made me squirt, you fucking slut.”
“Yesdoctor,” Rio slurred against their clit, nuzzling at their pussy affectionately.
Both of them were flushed and sweaty, Rio’s face caked in Agatha’s cum. Agatha was nearly crushing Rio’s head with their thighs, but the other professor seemed to be on cloud nine, diving back in with gusto. She was licking and slurping, putting all her effort into bringing Agatha to the edge again. It was as if she were aiming for gold at the cunnilingus Olympics.
Rio was the bane of Agatha’s existence, a vexing thorn in their side that they couldn’t pluck free no matter how hard they tried… but she was remarkably talented at munching box, and oh-so-beautiful when biddable and submissive.
Agatha was just cresting the horizon of their second orgasm, which was more of a low, slower burn than the explosive climax of before, when a Teams alert pinged on their desktop. They groaned in realisation. Their hand slipped loose from Rio’s hair so they could run their fingers through their own. Rio refused to detach from their cunt, lips wrapped around their clit, but looked up at them with confused doe eyes, which flitted over to the desktop and then back.
“Thirty-minute warning,” Agatha exhaled, annoyed. They really wanted a third orgasm. “I’ve got a meeting with Monica, Darcy, and Jimmy over in the medical school.”
And the medical school was a full ten-minute walk away. Which meant ten minutes there, and at least ten more to repair the visible damage Rio had done to their creased shirt and mussed hair. It was probably best that they not appear freshly fucked in front of the pediatric ALL specialist, chief pediatric radiologist, and chief pediatric neurologist.
“Rio, that means we have to stop.”
Rio finally withdrew, licking her lips, savouring the taste of Agatha’s arousal on her palate. She looked like a complete mess, as if she’d been making out with a watermelon. She leaned back just enough to study her handiwork, then had the audacity to pout. “Already?”
“Yes, already,” Agatha said crisply, lowering their legs and pushing back on their chair - but Rio grabbed at the legs, refusing to let them retreat. “Rio,” they warned.
The other professor’s gaze dragged slowly over them, heated, hungry, and utterly unapologetic. “You still have time.”
“I do not.”
Rio batted her eyelashes. “But I wanted to see if I could make you come from rimming you, Dr. Harkness.”
Agatha shot her a withering look. “Needy little slut. You are exhausting.”
Rio’s smile turned wicked. “Ten minutes?” Her hands settled on Agatha’s thighs, thumbs caressing the delicate skin there that she had already sucked hickies into. She was testing boundaries on purpose. Brat. Absolute brat.
Never had Agatha so badly wanted to put Rio in her place. But they had to admit, they were vying for three orgasms, and they’d only had two so far, and they knew they would be pissed off for the rest of the day knowing there was a possibility that they could have made it to three, but didn’t try. Plus… they loved it when Rio rimmed them, especially loved it when Rio jacked off their strap while doing it; that wasn’t possible today since they weren’t wearing one, but they knew they would enjoy it nonetheless.
“Five minutes,” Agatha grunted, giving in. Rio lit up as if she’d just been told she no longer had to mentor students for the next academic year, shuffling forward on her knees, not giving a shit about the carpet burn she would get later. “And if you don’t get me there in those five, you’re not coming for the next week.”
“Yes, doctor,” Rio keened.
Rio swirled her tongue around Agatha’s asshole while her nose nudged occasionally against their engorged clit, which pulsed with blood. It took her six minutes to work Agatha up enough to coax out that third orgasm, although to Rio’s credit, it was much more difficult a build-up when they had already come multiple times. Agatha, who strongly identified as a sadist, was delighted. They got to come again, and they would get to torture Rio for the rest of the week by using her as nothing more than a sex toy to get themself off, without rewarding her in return.
For good measure, since they had four minutes left, Agatha stuffed their navy blue checkered silk scarf into Rio’s mouth as a make-shift gag while shoving three fingers inside of her weeping cunt so deep that they could give her a pap smear if they wanted.
It meant that when the ten minutes were up, and Agatha actually had to kick Rio out of their office so they could clean up, they stopped suddenly. Their fingers stilled inside of the other professor’s cunt and then slipped free, leaving Rio on the verge of orgasm.
Rio immediately whimpered, tears in her eyes at having been teased so mercilessly. “Bitch,” she choked out.
Agatha didn’t even flinch. Instead, they laughed, the sound low and sharp, as they rolled their chair back and rose steadily to their feet, their movements lithe and graceful like a hunting cat, even though their nervous system was simultaneously wrung dry and electrified. “Oh, pet,” they murmured. “Is that the best you’ve got? An insult? Look at you… crying because you’re such a desperate, starving cumslut for me. Gagging for dyke cock, waterboarding yourself eating my pussy and ass, and then blubbering when your favourite toys get taken away.”
Rio didn’t respond. She just inhaled and exhaled shakily. Her hands were twitching at her sides as if she didn’t know what to do with them now that there was nothing for her to hold. Her lips were pressed tight, still swollen from kisses she hadn’t been allowed to control and working them when suckling Agatha’s clit.
Over the next couple of minutes, Agatha redressed and cleaned themself up. They stole an unfragranced make-up wipe from Rio’s bag to wipe up the mess between their legs before pulling on their boxes and then their suit pants, which fortunately weren’t too wrinkled despite having been half-hazedly tossed to the floor.
The hairbrush kept in their desk’s bottom drawer for these exact scenarios helped tame their sex hair; Agatha ended up pulling it into a ponytail, as it hid how sweaty their locks were. Agatha slid their feet into their boots, threw their suit jacket over their shoulder, and then checked themself in the mirror that stood propped up against the wall. They hummed in satisfaction. They looked a little bit tousled and flustered, but that could easily be excused.
The entire time, Rio didn’t move; she remained kneeling on the floor, slumped, wrecked, her lip curled in a pout. Agatha snatched up their ID card from the ground, throwing it around their neck, and then hovered in front of the closed door for a moment before they turned fully around. They took their time looking Rio over, smirking at what they observed: her flushed cheeks, her trembling mouth, the bright, furious shine in her eyes… her destroyed tights and slick thighs.
“Don’t wait up for me, sweetheart,” Agatha told her with a leer. “I’ll see you tomorrow morning at the PhD presentations. If you’re a good girl, I might let you cockwarm me after, while I write my new Nature paper.”
Rio struggled to her feet, huffing in a displeased manner. Her expression twisted into a scowl. “Oh, you mean the Nature paper which uses my RNAseq dataset?” she snarked. “Yeah, sure, that would actually be a good idea, I can make sure you’re not mangling the analysis.”
Anger flared in Agatha’s chest, but instead of it burning, it was ice cold, tightening their ribs and freezing the oxygen in their lungs. They stalked closer, each step measured and deliberate. Their fingers slid up under Rio’s chin, tilting her face slightly. Rio’s breathing hitched and she shivered at their touch, her eyes fixed on Agatha’s mouth.
“There’s only one thing I mangle, darling,” they purred, “And it’s pretty femmes like you who will choke themselves on silicone for an ounce of attention and praise.”
Agatha leaned closer, so close their noses brushed, their lips inches apart. They knew that Rio would try and kiss them again. When Rio predictably tried to close the distance, closing her eyes and chasing the contact, the professor stepped away at the last second, leaving her kissing empty air. Rio froze, lips still slightly puckered, eyes fluttering open to be met with Agatha’s snicker.
An embarrassed flush crept up the other professor’s neck. Frustration in the form of a sharp, restless energy radiated off her. Agatha watched Rio tense and scramble to recover from the bait-and-switch with open amusement, head cocked slightly, and their eyes darkening.
“You’re so pathetic for me,” they said softly. “And you’ll take whatever I give you.”
They retreated, swiping up their office keys and throwing them at the other professor, a silent command for her to lock up behind her once she was ready to perform the dreaded walk of shame, which was so much more shameful considering it was from Agatha’s office. Rio caught them in one hand, years of pipetting 384-well plates having perfected her hand-eye coordination. She stood stock-still, red-faced and trembling. Her face was contorted into a stricken expression, which was formed of a mixture of hate and want, tangled hopelessly together.
Agatha smoothed down their suit jacket, pausing at the door, glancing back one last time. “Congratulations on your future partnership with Lilia,” they drawled. “I’m sure this clinical collaboration won’t go belly-up… like it did last time.”
It was a low blow, perhaps lower really than Agatha would usually consider fair, but they were aiming to rile Rio up, and it worked wonderfully.
A fleeting look of outrage was then carefully schooled, as the professor replied dryly, “Remind me how your last clinical collaboration ended, Agatha?” Touché. In flames, tears, and nearly a lawsuit. “You know, I was going to suggest we actually team up on the trial, split the cohort so it’s half AML and half ALL, that way both our labs get samples. But you don’t know how to do partnership. You’re a control freak. Even what we have between us is only allowed to exist so long as you get to call the shots.”
“There is nothing between us,” Agatha dismissed quickly, their heart skipping a beat.
And there wasn’t. It was just sex. Just sex, and nothing else. And that was what it had always been. Any emotions attached to their activities - Agatha wouldn’t call it a relationship - were unserious and temporary, brought about by the hormones and neurotransmitters triggered by sex. It was just biology.
Agatha certainly didn’t have any feelings towards her.
None. Zip. Nada.
There couldn’t be. Agatha had too much to worry about already - their lab’s funding, all of their employees and students, their son… their precious Nicky, whom they did all of this for - and couldn’t afford to be concerned with a juvenile crush on a fellow PI. Not that there even was a crush. They were attracted to Rio, but it was all pure sexual attraction, nothing more than that.
Something akin to hurt flashed over Rio’s face. “Sure, Agatha,” she spat. “Nothing. And I’m sure you won’t throw a tantrum and come storming into my office tomorrow if I don’t follow you back here after the PhD meeting.”
Agatha resented that implication. They did not throw tantrums. They liked to have assertive arguments in which they got to do most of the talking… shouting. They changed the subject, just because they knew it would irritate Rio even more. “I’m going to be late for my meeting with the pediatric team now, and you should know, I’m going to blame you and tell them you fucked up ordering your antibodies again.”
Rio scowled. “That was one time, Agatha, fifteen years ago, and it’s not my fault they sent us everything from the wrong species!” Gritting her teeth, she proposed, “You know what… since there’s nothing between us, then you won’t mind if we take a break.”
Snorting, Agatha shrugged nonchalantly. “Fine with me. I’ll just pull Wanda in here if I get horny, that woman’s useless boyfriend is cheating on her, and she’s in desperate need of a good dicking down.”
Rio blanched, obviously not expecting that response. “Wait -”
The professor slid out of their office and slammed the door shut behind them before Rio could finish. And as they walked away, checking their phone, they allowed themself a small, satisfied smile. They stuck the device into their pants’ pocket, dusting off their hands, and strolled down the corridor towards the elevator smugly.
Rio had been successfully distracted for the past hour, and judging by the texts they were receiving from Jen and Wanda, they’d found their ace-in-the-hole to lend doubt to Rio’s hypotheses, and were already drafting a document for them to read over this afternoon. And Agatha felt much more relaxed after a trio of orgasms and successfully ragebaiting their rival.
Rio’s suggestion of a break was laughable if only because she had used that precise threat numerous times before. They’d still ended up fucking each other to death the next day anyway. Agatha had no intentions whatsoever of hooking up with their post-doc - mostly because they didn’t want HR on their ass - but seeing Rio’s reaction had been hilarious.
Agatha wasn’t at all concerned.
Rio would come back again tomorrow.
She always did.