The Most Impressive Thing Ferrari Has Ever Done Is Somehow Convince The Entire World Of F1 That Kimi

"Bla bla bla proper takeover, corners name, racing stuff..."

Kimi Räikkönen | Madonna di Campiglio | January 2007

Kimi supporting his daughters' gymnastics

day 2 of more kimi

kimi, let me li- one chance pls pls🫣🤲🏻

weighted blanket | kimi räikkönen

୨ৎ : featuring : husband!kimi x reader ୨ৎ : synopsis (requested by anon) : for kimi, love isn’t in his words. it’s in the way he always finds you after a race, refusing to let go.

୨ৎ : genre : fluffy romance ୨ৎ : word count : 528

୨ৎ masterlist ୨ৎ

ᡣ𐭩 a/n : intentionally lowercase btw!

kimi never felt the need to explain himself, and he certainly didn’t go out of his way to prove how much he cared.

but he had his ways.

you learned quickly that love, for kimi, was not spoken. it was in the little things. the way he always made sure your phone was charged before you traveled. the way he left an extra jacket in your car because he knew you always forgot yours. the way he always found you after a race, no matter the outcome.

if he won, it was easy. he would find you in the garage, arms wrapping securely around your waist as he buried his face in your neck. he would hold you close, his voice low and gruff from post-race exhaustion as he murmured, "saw you watching."

"yeah?"

"mmh. made me drive faster."

but if the race had gone badly, it was a different story.

you would hear him before you saw him, grumbling under his breath about strategy, pit stops, or whatever had annoyed him that day. he would drag you to the motorhome, pull you inside, and collapse onto you like a human-sized rock.

he didn’t care where. couch, hotel bed, your lap. if kimi was in a mood, you were getting trapped under him.

the first time it happened, you had tried to move. that had been a mistake.

"where are you going?" he muttered, voice muffled against your shoulder.

you sighed. "kimi, you are literally crushing me."

"don't be dramatic."

"i can’t breathe."

"you’re still talking."

you had groaned, but he didn’t budge. his breathing was slow and even, his grip firm, his entire body relaxed in a way that told you this was not a short-term situation.

"you do realize i am not a pillow, right?" you asked.

"mmh. but you're warm."

and his version of recharging? holding you for an hour in absolute silence.

it became a routine. bad race? you were kimi’s designated human weighted blanket.

it wasn’t something he talked about, but it was always the same. he would sulk for a bit, get comfortable, and once he was properly attached to you, he wasn’t moving. if you tried to get up? his arm would tighten, pulling you right back.

once, you had tried to argue. "kimi, i need to pee."

"go later."

"kimi."

"hold it."

but even when he was grumpy, there was an ease to it, a quietness that let you know this was not just about the race. this was about you. about the fact that no matter what happened out there, he would always come back to this.

to you.

so now, when he finally mumbled, "still mad about the race," against your skin, you just smiled.

"you want to talk about it?"

"no."

"you want to keep suffocating me?"

"mmh."

"you want me to get up and grab you a drink?"

his arms immediately tightened around you. "no. stay."

you sighed, brushing a hand through his hair. "you’re ridiculous, you know that?"

kimi hummed, barely awake now, already sinking further into you. "mmh. but you love me."

and yeah, you did.

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