TW: Dubious consent, like REALLY dubious also bitter Mark Webber
Just a random omegaverse drabble to get back into writing, nothing serious... erm: Omega! Seb Alpha!Mark
this is my first writing blog so i'm not really sure what i'm doing
Sebastian is a goddamn omega.
"So that's why you didn't come to my farewell party, huh?" the alpha huffed, thrusting his hips forcefully at the supposed beta, who could only babble incoherently in German. He couldn't do anything else, not while his former teammate held him bent over; his back arched high, his chest pressed against the sheets.
"Beta… sure," the Australian snorted.
"Mark… please…" Sebastian begged; he should be going through his heat freely, without inhibitors, without the stress of having to hide it, until a drunk Mark Webber showed up at his door.
The air escaped Sebastian's lungs as Mark's large palm on his lower back forced him onto his stomach. Mark slowly moved down to smell his scent gland, ready to be marked. Fuck, his scent was delicious, ripe, ready to be marked by the right alpha.
"No!" Sebastian denied it, turning abruptly before he could bite.
"No?" Mark laughed coldly, hiding the pain of Sebastian rejecting him even in this state.
"Ah, right… You've already chosen, haven't you?" Sebastian tried to reply, but was interrupted. "It's that idiot Raikkonen, isn't it?" he said again in a somber tone as he slowed his thrusts, making them more deliberate and purposeful… Mark always saw them together… too close, singing each other's praises in interviews, smiling every time his name was even mentioned for a second… "Seb's probably already spread his legs," Mark thought.