#adding to the big dick oscar agenda ladjfalksd

[nyoomfruits]

62 for omegaverse thingy!

62. "Wait! Your knot is too big-"

Oscar is big.

Lando feels like maybe this is something he should have known, beforehand. Should have asked about, before he signed the contract Mclaren pushed in front of him, stating that if he went into heat during a race weekend Oscar would help him out.

It hadn’t seemed important, at the beginning of the year, when he and Oscar had barely known each other. After all, Lando was pretty good at scheduling his heats around the race weekends, and so there wouldn’t ever be a need for Lando to see Oscar’s dick.

But F1 is stressful. Adrenaline fueled and go go go which is how Lando finds himself here, in the middle of an emergency heat triggered by everything that’s been happening in the past week, sprawled on a hotel bed completely naked, sweating, desperate, begging for it, Oscar towering over him, lean and naked and-

Big.

“It’s okay, I got you, it’s okay,” Oscar mumbles, hand dragging through Lando’s hair, and Lando keens, high and whiny, wanting to reach up and pull Oscar closer closer closer till they meld together somehow, until they become one.

He feels delirious with it -  the need -  wraps his hand around Oscar’s bicep and tugs, a small desperate motion that barely seems to move Oscar, but does result in Oscar finally taking pity on him, after an unnecessarily long period of soft touches and encouraging words, things that are all very sweet, but things Lando doesn’t have time for. Not when he needs to be filled, needs to be knotted like, yesterday.

Oscar pushes in, antagonizingly slow and frustratingly steady, and Lando’s breath hitches, because it’s big big big and it’s pressing into him in all the right ways and his inner omega purrs, happy and excited and filled, and he makes unintelligible moaning noises, grabs uselessly at the sheets as Oscar keeps pushing inside, slow, gentle, life altering.

Lando’s had other alpha’s, before. Of course he has. Has spend heats with them, ruts.  But there’s something about Oscar above him, pushing in slow, his eyes not leaving Lando’s face for a moment, eyes intense and pupils blown, that makes it feel different. His scent is heavy in the air, fresh and peppermint-y, wrapping around Lando’s much deeper chocolate scent like it belongs, like they were always sort of destined to mingle together.

Oscar bottoms out with a heavy groan, falling forward so his face ends up mostly in Lando’s neck, wet mouth brushing over his mating gland right there, and Lando keens again, loud and pitched and desperate, pushing up, whispering please please please into the stale hotel room air.

Unfortunately - or maybe fortunately, Lando’s stupid omega brain is too sex drunk to differentiate between the two - Oscar completely misreads his pleading and rights himself again, starts slowly moving in and out of Lando.

The movement only emphasizes how big he is, filling and stretching Lando like nothing has before, rearranging his insides until everything is Oscar Oscar Oscar. He moans, his hands scrabbling across the sheets to grab at nothing while Oscar keeps going, steady and relentless.

Lando’s own cock, which has been painfully hard since the moment Oscar stepped into his hotel room twitches every time Oscar hits his prostate, and it doesn’t take long - an embarrassingly short amount of time that he blames on his heat - before he’s spilling all over his own stomach.

Oscar makes a satisfied grunting noise, but doesn’t relent, keeps pounding into Lando, and Lando whines because it’s too much too much but also it’s not enough, not enough at all, needs all of Oscar everywhere at all times, needs him close close close.

He’s making unintelligible whining noises, mumbling words he desperately hopes Oscar can’t hear because there’s no way they’re anything short of embarrassing, when suddenly he feels something pushing against his asshole, and realizes it’s Oscar’s knot.

Lando panics, all of a sudden. Because if Oscar’s cock is big, his knot might actually fucking ruin Lando. He’s already so full, feels it stretching him impossibly, and there’s no way, no way- “Wait!” he pants, and Oscar stills immediately, looks at Lando with big, worry filled eyes. “Your knot, it’s too big, I can’t-“

“Hey,” Oscar says, voice soft, so soft, his hand suddenly on Lando’s sweat covered face, holding him, gentle, caring. “Hey, Lando, look at me, you’re okay, yeah? You’re okay. I’m taking care of you.”

Land whines, because he is, Oscar is being a good Alpha and he’s taking care of Lando, and Lando trusts him, he trusts him so much.

But.

“So big,” he mumbles. “So big.”

“You can take it,” Oscar says, and it’s not a threat, or a dismissal. It’s the same way he says ‘Lando has better race pace’ or ‘The car is not good in slow speed corners’. It’s a fact, clear and simple, and Lando nods, Oscar’s fingers sliding from his cheek down to his neck, over his mating gland. Lando whines, low and needy, and suddenly Oscar’s knot is expanding, pushing inside slowly but unrelenting.

Lando moans, and it feels so good, so full, so stretched, and he comes again, Oscar’s knot slowly filling him until there’s nothing but Oscar Oscar Oscar.

When he comes down from his orgasm Oscar has flopped himself forward, rolling them over carefully so Lando is on top, snuggled into Oscar’s chest, knot still buried deep within him. Oscar was right, he could take it, and his inner omega purrs happily at the feeling of being so incredibly full. Lando himself might purr a little too, because Oscar lets out a soft little laugh, his hands splayed over Lando’s back, rubbing comforting circles into the skin.

Lando lets himself be lulled into sleep by slow movement of Oscar’s breathing, the feeling of being full, so full, and the press of Oscar’s lips against his forehead.