Oh, my love

I think Kimi is into breeding in a more primal way than the other drivers, yk? He's younger, hormonal, and possessive as FUCK. He's not necessarily thinking about starting a family perse, but moreso thinking about pumping you so full of his cum and marking you up so bad that nobody else could ever come within 50 yards of you without immediately knowing who you belong to. Every time you fuck its like he's competing with an imaginary opponent to fuck you better, harder, faster, deeper.

Who can leave more marks all over your neck and chest that you can't hide, knowing you have to be at the paddock the next morning around everybody including his teammate and the Mercedes crew who are absolutely looking. Who can fuck you so good you have a lil bit of a limp at said paddock appearance? Who can fill you up so much that you swear it'll be leaking out for the next week? The answer is always him, but its in his nature to wanna improve and never stagnate, especially in bed.

Kimi memorizes your body like the curves of the track, and owns you like it. He can make you cum so fast its almost scary, and isn't satisfied till youre so cock drunk and fucked out that you can barely keep your eyes open. His energy is almost endless and it shows, he's almost never finished after cumming once. Sure, maybe for a quickie in the back of his car somewhere you absolutely shouldn't be having a quickie, but never when he's got you to himself and time to treat you right.

When he cums the first time, he only falters for a second. Hips stuttering against yours and his fingers digging into your hips so hard it bruises just to ground himself. His orgasm steals the air from his lungs and draws the filthiest sounds from his lips but he just can't stop there. It takes no time for him to pick the pace up again, thrusting against you through the shocks of overstimulation just chasing that burning high in his belly over and over again.

He's not done till its pouring out of you, dripping down into a massive puddle on the sheets and making a mess of you from your thighs to your navel. Even when he thinks he can't possibly keep going, its like his subconscious drives him further.

"She'd look so pretty pregnant in a sundress, that bikini she had on in Monaco sure would show off her tits when they got bigger if you knock her up, dont you want a baby with her pretty smile? Nobody else can ever have her like that, you gotta stake your claim now." Thoughts on repeat, over and over, punctuated every thrust. They're right, the thought of someone else pinning you down in bed and taking whats his makes him so jealous he gets sick to his stomach.

His hips would slam into yours so hard it hurt, tip knocking against your cervix and making your insides ache in the best way. He'd sink his little fangs into your neck to ground himself, groaning and whimpering breathlessly till he finally came again. God the way he'd grind himself against you would be straight SINFUL, holding you close and making sure you dont lose a drop. You could feel every twitch of his cock as be filled you up, but he'd make absolutely 0 effort to move off of you when he finished. Youre trapped indefinitely, partially for him to catch his breath but moreso till he feels like it really took yk?

Dom!Zelli is a TREAT cause he doesnt even have to try yk, it just comes to him so naturally that his presence alone makes your brain melt into a puddle of submissive goop. Every time you see him you just slip into subspace like its nothing. All the factors mix together perfectly; his height makes him tower over you, he's so muscular he can throw you around like nothing, his cologne mixed with the smell of post-set sweat and cigarettes makes you dizzy and his voice drips in this intoxicating honey that'd make you go fetch the moon and pull it closer if he asked with 0 questions.

Speaking of his smell, its ADDICTIVE. I could see him wearing one of these 100%, something dark and woodsy but also some sweet undertones? Maybe a mix? Either way, when you happen to pick up a shirt he left on the floor of the hotel room, it reminds you just how much of a hold he has on you even when hes not right in front of you. It gives you that fuzzy feeling in your belly and butterflies between your legs, surely it wouldn't hurt to indulge?

When Z goes onstage he comes off a whole new beast too, you swear the adrenaline spikes his testosterone. When he walks in to your shared hotel room to find your hand between your legs and one of his shirts bunched up in your fist, eyes closed while you huff his scent? You're cooked!! You freeze like a fawn in front of the biggest semi truck known to man on the highway, and that'd probably be less scary tbf.

"Couldn't have waited 10 minutes, huh? Couldn't have texted me, called me, checked your phone to see i was on the way? Just had to get off alone right then, right puppy?"

He'd sigh, roll his eyes, the whole 9. Your heart would nearly explode against your ribcage, hands shaking and eyes glued to his looking for any way out of your predicament. You looked over to your phone on the other side of the bed to see a missed call and a handful of unread text notifs over the lockscreen pic of you two in your bedroom mirror at home. Shit.

When he finally crossed the room to your side of the bed, his presence made you feel so small. He looked down at you like a piece of meat, chest rising and falling just a lil too heavy with his pupils blown so wide you could barely tell there was an iris at all. It felt like he'd eat you alive, and that was his plan entirely.

Z would have you out of bed and on your knees almost immediately, fingers laced in your hair right at the nape of your neck to press your face against his cock through his jeans. He smelled like sweat from the stage and that insane specific cologne you couldn't get enough of, it made your head spin even worse. His eyes stayed glued to your face, just to watch your fuzzy brain try and form thoughts and fail. Every time you seemed a lil too zoned out, he'd bring you back slapping your cheek or pulling your hair a lil harder just to hear you whimper.

"If you wanna get off, get off. Gonna hump my leg like a dog or go without, your choice."

You hate to say it but being made to do gross humiliating shit at his whim makes you embarrassingly wet. Z would use his free hand to free his cock and let it rest on your face while you grind against his leg like an animal, swatting your hands away whenever youd try and touch him.

"Such a fuckin' mess. I was gonna fuck you so good when I got back too, puppy. Could've just waited on me."

"Open your mouth, mutt"

You do so immediately, trying your best to multitask with what little brain power you have left. Z leans over just enough to spit on his shaft, letting the excess drip into your mouth while he uses the rest as lube to jerk himself off above you. The action pulls the most pathetic whine from your chest imaginable, and his dick twitches in response. He's enjoying this far too much to act like he isnt, but he'd hate to drop the facade so early.

"Such a good puppy, gonna let daddy paint your face? Gonna be a good girl for me?"

"Better hurry up and get off then, cause if I cum first, you dont get to cum at all.

You'd try your best and pick up the pace, grinding against his foot like your life depended on it, and it felt like it did. Your arms wrapped around his thigh and face pressed to his hip right next to his cock. It was a bluff for sure, but seeing you so desperate was something he couldn't miss. Technically this was all to teach you a lesson, no? It was so hard for him to not cum right away looking down and seeing you all teary eyed and whining his name, pleading your apologies and whimpering about how close you were.

When you finally cum, his hand finds your hair again, yanking your head back while your whole body jerked amidst the waves of a near ruined orgasm. The motion threw off the rhythm of your hips and he almost felt bad for cutting it short, but he'd make up for it later.