Alpha/Omega/Beta dynamics
T'Challa finds being a professor and an omega is one of the worse things he could have ever done. Especially when a lot of his attractive students and colleagues are alphas. Alphas who have tried to bed him.
Except you.
You're an alpha: tall, broad, and with beautiful naturally sun kissed skin, piercing black eyes, and a nice smile.
Today you are in black ripped jeans, a white tee, black sneakers and a black bomber. Your round, gold glasses sit on your face, complementing your watch, chain, and earring.
You approach his desk and T'Challa has to keep from showing his neck.
"Professor I need help with my paper. Can we talk after class?"
"Of course Aharon."
You smile and T'Challa blushes.
"Okay bet. See you afterwards."
You sit back down and smile at your friends who have entered the class.
You smile of spices, wood, and coffee. T'Challa feels himself become wet with slick and he whimpers. He prays you didn't notice but based on the look you are giving him: you did.
"You okay professor?"
T'Challa nods but then he feels warmth and curses. His heat...he wasn't suppose to get that blasted thing until tomorrow.
You sniff the air as a sweet smell hits your nose. Your eyes land on T'Challa and he looks away. You stand, walking over to him and leans forward.
"Your heat...professor...you're heat!"
"I'm fine Aharon! I swe—"
T'Challa moans as a wave of heat hits him and you growl, a protective feeling filling you. You packed his things up (and your own) and grab the bags. You pull T'Challa up and he follows you.
You close the office door and lock it, T'Challa leaning on you.
"You live nearby Professor?"
"Yes..."
T'Challa whispers the address and you nod.
"You drove or..."
"Walked..."
"Come on."
T'Challa takes your hand, following you. You two make it to your car and you get him in. He whimpers as your smell fills his nose. He aches with a need to be filled.
You get in and drive off.
☕️☕️☕️☕️☕️☕️☕️☕️☕️☕️☕️☕️☕️☕️☕️☕️☕️
You unlock the door and T'Challa stumbles in. You hang his bag up, kicking the door close.
"Pro—"
T'Challa hugs your neck, kissing you. You give a surprised sound before kissing back, squeezing his butt. He mewls as you pick him up and take him to his room.
"Professor...you need to stop."
"No...mate...full..."
You always found your professor attractive but he's your professor! You are brought from your thoughts but T'Challa hugging your neck and pressing kisses all over your face.
He smells so damn good and with the way he's grinding against you, kissing your face, and just being cute you are losing this battle.
"Oh fuck it," you say as you kiss him, making him smile as he holds your face.
☕️☕️☕️☕️☕️☕️☕️☕️☕️☕️☕️☕️☕️☕️☕️☕️☕️
T'Challa is riding you, mewling and groaning as your thick length fill him.
