summary: "you're too young for her." that's what everyone had told him when kimi laid eyes on mercedes' newest recruit. but a man that yearns is a man that earns.
warnings: fluff, poor humour, age gap (reader is assumed around 29-ish), kimi is slightly aged but unmentioned, angst, silverstone 2026, yearning, flirting, insecurity // poorly proof read as usual
word count: 5.7k
a/n: this was so cute aghhhh. made it more angsty by accident ngl. based on this request!
As young as he was, Andrea Kimi Antonelli was a patient man.
He had to be. Between the constant training, messed up strategies, various time zones, the crowds of fans, long work hours, invasive journalists, cumbersome plane rides—Kimi had to believe patience was the right answer. A virtue like so many had said before.
He had trained his patience the same way he had trained himself. With time and dedication. A fragile appreciation that couldn't easily be seen in any conversation or any race. Sure it thinned and yes, at times it broke. But Rome wasn't built in a day. Nor was he.
It led to a sense of obligation to time itself. The value in what history could provide. How rich experience truly was.
But that wasn't something Kimi had realised until he met you.
He could still remember it.
Pre-season. The sun was out despite the chilly weather and excitement thick with the new regulations in place. He was waltzing down the paddock with Isack and Arvid like had done many a time before. The whispers of a Mercedes domination with every step. He was talking, probably about something useless because nothing would ever compare to whatever you were talking about with Max and Charles just a few metres away.
It was like time itself had stopped, forcing Kimi to appreciate what was right in front of him. The glimpses of you were brief initially. Yet he could see it. How your hands moved animatedly. The way the sun seemed to hit your eyes in the perfect angle. The crinkles if your smile, wide and etched into your face. And your laugh... God, your laugh, it was as if it had been coated in honey and gold.
For a second, Kimi thought his heart would stop. He hadn't even met you and yet you had his brain scrambled. Nowhere near as functional as it should be. Severed neuronal links. Miscommunication between each lobe.
Suddenly it was Charles' voice in the air, signalling for them to come by. "You guys! Come meet ___."
Kimi braved the perfect smile onto his face, like his knees weren't turning into jelly with each step he took towards you. And the closer he got to you, the more beautiful you got. Was that even possible? Well it was now.
Charles smiled as the three young drivers reached. "Kimi, Arvid, Isack, this is ___,” he gestured towards you. "You guys don't know her but she used to work back in Red Bull a few years back. Best strategist ever. Went down to Indy though," he grumbled, faking an eye roll.
Max sighed, shaking his head at the big loss. "And now she's back for you."
Kimi blinked, chest leaping at the pair of eyes falling to his face. "For me?" He queried with surprised, finger pointing at himself innocently. His gaze dropped to the peak of turquoise and the familiar logo underneath your jacket. No freaking way...
You simply smiled at the wide brown eyes looking at you, head tipping in agreement. "Yup. Well, Mercedes anyways," you chuckled.
"You're in safe hands, Kimi," Max pointed out, still slightly bitter. "Serious to God, you'll have the best races this year."
You rolled your eyes before looking down at your watch. "Okay. That's enough fluffing my ego. I have a meeting to attend. But it was nice meeting you Kimi. I look forward to working with you."
Kimi watched as you stretched out your hand towards him. He swallowed tightly, fingers hesitantly reaching out to wrap around your hand. For a second, he almost pulled back at the light current passing through his palm. His eyes flickered up, curious as to whether you had felt it or not. But if you did, you didn't show it. He breathed in, smiling quietly. "Nice to meet you too, ___."
The seconds were far too short, your hand already leaving his as you took a step back. He could practically feel his heart frown while you bidded goodbye. He watched, frozen, while you walked further and further away and yet in his head, you were still right there in front of him.
Charles turned back, about to bring up how glad he was to have you back when he spotted the dazed look on Kimi's face. It was mystified and warm. Unable to peel away from you. His head shook almost instantly. "Oh no. No, no. Don't even think about it, Kimi."
Max mended his brows, eyes drifting to the Italian with curiosity. He almost sighed when he realised. "Oh God," he muttered.
"What?" Kimi said, a feigned innocence coating his voice as he shrugged as Arvid and Isack peeked their heads in confusion.
"You're too young for her, Kimi," Charles immediately said.
Max nodded in agreement. "Look, she loves her job. She'll never give you the time of day, okay? People have tried before and failed. She's a closed book. So just forget about whatever you're feeling before you get hurt."
"Is she single?"
Max's face fell flat. "Did you not hear what I just sai—"
"Well, is she?" Kimi queried pressingly. He hoped you were. God, he hoped. But a part of him thought it'd also be a tragedy if you were. Because how dare someone like you have no one to worship you?
Charles nodded vaguely. "I mean, yeah but—"
"Then that settles it," Kimi sighed decidedly with a small nod.
Max blinked, head shaking with disbelief as he took a moment register what was going on. "Do not say we didn't warn you," he grumbled.
Kimi only smiled quietly. Maybe people had tried before. But those people were not him. He was not raised a quitter. With the elegance of patience, for you, he would have all the time in the world.
It had all started off small. Seeing you in the garage and Brackley, Kimi had taken the time to learn you. Between every break and every breath, it was you his eyes travelled to, you who he found every excuse to talk to.
Even as he trained a few floors below you, it was you he thought of when the applied force was killing him. Wondering whether you liked tea or coffee. By the end of the day he had figured out your usual order was espresso with a bit of cream.
In a time where Kimi usually had his thoughts together, he had found himself overthinking every little thing he did. How he'd look when you entered the room (he had indeed practiced casual poses in the mirror). How he sounded when he spoke (hopefully not too eager).
And with all of it, he wanted your attention.
So Kimi laughed a little louder in the room you stood in. Tried a little too hard in every media duty is was assigned, hoping he'd find your eyes staring back. He didn't mind looking stupid if it made you laugh. All while the older drivers shook their heads at him.
Needless to say, you had found Kimi quite talkative. There always a mix of drivers in motorsports. The minimal talkers, the 'I'm-superior-to-you,' or the conversationalists. And then there was Kimi. His questions were endless and some meaningless.
As a strategist, do you think you'd survive well in an apocalypse? You'd like to think so.
Can we come up with a secret code for the radio? You queried what that would even look like. Apparently 'Kimi is handsome' was code for pitting in a lap's time.
In an apocalypse, if you could bring three things to entertain you, what would it be? What was it with this kid and apocalypses?
Besides being talkative, Kimi was also... touchy. Was that the right word? You had no idea. Apparently it was an Italian thing according to George. Still, you had almost lost your mind when you had walked into work one morning and found him with your coffee order in hand, running late for a meeting with Toto, inching towards you to leave a quick kiss on the side of your cheeks before leaving.
Yeah... apparently that was normal.
Even when the temperatures never seemed to rise, you never seemed to realise, too focused on your work. But Kimi did. He would appear in front of you, warm hands wordlessly grabbing yours.
"You're freezing," Kimi would exclaim, shaking his head like he was disappointed as he rubbed your hands to bring some heat back into them.
You swallowed tightly, turning away from your laptop. You shrugged awkwardly, bewildered with what you were experiencing. "Work hazard, I guess."
And then he'd frown. A day later, you had a pair of gloves all boxed up on your desk with a note saying 'Can't have my favourite strategist cold. - K.'
Then there was that other day. Where he had called you over to ask a question about the car but noticed how you kept shoving the fabric of your long sleeve up your arms as you tried to answer his query.
And all Kimi did was nod to your explanation, hands moving without a second thought, slowly folding the fabric over each arm, fingers tips grazing your wrist as did. His ears perked at the loss of your voice in the ear. "What? Why'd you stop?" He'd ask.
You bit your lip, rigidly pulling your hand away from him. "I can do that myself," you murmured, fingers tightening over where he had been just moments ago.
Kimi nodded. "I know. I just wanted to," he shrugged casually.
It was all sweet, you supposed. You couldn't exactly say you were weirded out. His intentions seemed good. Pure. But you had seen your fair share of Italians... were they all really like this?
If George said so... perhaps they were. So you had resumed your work without thinking about it too much. Kimi was just your overly nice co-worker. That was all.
But somewhere, somehow, things had changed.
You had known it the moment it had happened. Where you were sitting down in the Mercedes motorhome, after Kimi's first win. While the other's were celebrating, you were still working. Not because you particularly wanted to, but because a part of you still felt a little out of place. A new team, new people... even after all these years, the celebrating part never seemed to get any less awkward.
"What are you doing?"
You blinked, peeling your eyes away from your laptop as the voice that become familiar to you over the past few months. You eyed the heaving figure in front of you with curiosity. "Looking at telemetry data..." You trailed off, brow raising. "What are you doing? Aren't you supposed to be celebrating?"
Kimi swallowed, inching closer towards you. His hand reached out, shutting the lid of your laptop gently. His eyes flitted to you, a depth of sadness to them. "How can I celebrate when you're not there?"
You snorted, not really registering the skip of your heart. "You don't need me to celebrate, Kimi," you said pointedly, looking over your messily jotted down notes, even worse to read as the sun set in China.
"I need you. I need you all the time."
And there it was. That sudden tightness in your chest as his words rung in your head.
You snapped your eyes to him, slightly wide. The look on his face was firm. Resolute. No regret lingering. And if you stared a little longer, you could see a warmth to it you had never felt before.
No. You were imagining it. That wasn't even possible!
"Well... what are you waiting for?"
You blinked again, shaking your head from those strange thoughts. "Sorry, what?" You asked, eyes falling to his outstretched hand. You swallowed tightly. God, had the temperature in this room increased? It was awfully hot all of a sudden.
"Come and celebrate with me," Kimi simply said, fingers dangling in a way that pleaded you.
You stared quietly. In the short time you had known Kimi, this was probably the first time he had kept some sort of distance between you. Any other day, any other moment you would put good money on the fact he would've just dragged you along. But here he stood, waiting with bated breath.
And you could hear him exhale with what you could only discern as relief when you slid your fingers onto his palm. You pressed your lips at the small grin on his face, boyish in every aspect.
"I promise you won't regret it," he breathed.
You raised your brows, unable to stop yourself from returning the grin. "I'm counting on it."
"Buongiorno!" Kimi greeted loudly as he usually did when he entered the garage, drifting through the mounds of team members working. All you knew that if he didn't say it, something was seriously wrong.
His eyes averted to you, another thing he usually did. Routine now to look at you first and then everyone else. You were sat as you usually were. Next to Bono, hyperfocused on your laptop, running numerous models of simulation data.
"Buongiorno, ___," Kimi announced, resting his elbows on the table, waiting for your response before he went on his merry way to start with some light training.
You barely moved your eyes off the screen, used to this small meet-and-greet with Kimi by now. "Morning, Kimi," you murmured, leaning in further into the screen.
He smiled quietly to himself, moving his eyes when he suddenly met Bono's gaze—cautious and reprimanding. He blinked though he kept his smile, undeterred. His race engineer was just one of the many who had been warning him, again and again.
Kimi breathed in quietly, about to move towards his driver's room when something made him stop in his footsteps. He snapped his back to you. Blinking once. And then twice more. But the sight never changed—marginally
"Did you cut your hair?"
You froze at the question, finally moving your eyes from your screen to him. "Um..." Your lips parted as he leaned closer across the table, brown eyes raking over your face carefully.
"You did," Kimi nodded slowly in approval. "It looks nice."
Your cheeks warmed, watching Kimi simply walk away without another word. Awkwardly, you flickered your gaze to the raised brows belonging to Bono. You cleared your throat, hands moving rigidly while you spoke, "It was just on the sides. Like a trim..."
Bono sucked in a sharp breath, opting to say nothing as he turned back to his work. You brows furrowed embarrassingly, hand reaching over to hide your face as you stared at your reflection in your laptop. Your heart paced in your chest, echoing in your ears louder than you could even think.
Oh my God.
You yawned tiredly at your screen. You had been at this for hours. The data seemed to pile up with Kimi and George at the forefront of the championship. Your calls had been mostly perfect. However, some had gotten you a strange glance. Mixed with a questionable power unit, things were looking bleak despite being all the wins in your favour.
Your eyes fluttered with the heavy beckon towards the dark abyss, head threatening to fall onto your laptop. You blinked suddenly, taking in a sharp breath. You patted your cheeks firmly. "Just a little more. One more sheet and I'll go home," you muttered, blinking once again.
Ideally, you should've done this on your desk. Not the bloody couch in your office. But your feet were sore and the chair had turned immensely uncomfortable. The sacrifice, however, was taking the risk to fall asleep.
Your ears perked at the abrupt knock on your doorframe, heart lurching out of your chest. You breathed out shakily, moving your eyes from your laptop. It was Kimi. Of course.
"What are you still doing here?" Kimi sighed, leaning on your doorframe, arms folded and face decorated with a disappointed frown as he peeked through your blinds, spotting the night sky easily. "You need to go home."
"I will," you maintained, unable to stop the small yawn from escaping your mouth. "I'm almost done," you said.
He narrowed his eyes at you. Liar. He drew a quiet breath in, steps gentle against the carpet as he bent down next to the couch. His arms reached out to take your laptop away from you.
"Hey—"
"Take a nap. Ten minutes and then you can work on it," he stated firmly, putting your laptop on the nearby coffee table, lightly shutting the screen.
"But—"
"You look tired," Kimi murmured, brushing his thumb under your eye, soft and gentle with all the worry in the world. As if he was tracing the shadows off of your skin, patient with your sudden silence.
"I'm not tired," you whispered though your eyes felt heavy and your chest warm. One blink away from falling asleep. Another from thinking this was all a dream.
It was a simple decision. Taking off his jacket and gently covering you with it, encasing you with a warmth only familiar to him. He smiled quietly, hand moving to pat your head with a fragility that made his own skin burn. "Liar," he murmured, brown eyes watching you tenderly. "Go to sleep. I'll be here when you wake up, belle."
It didn't take long. A minute or two where all your refusals had ceased and turned into soft breaths. Only the sound of your clock accompanied his heartbeats. Like a hushed roar in his chest.
An ache, really. Heavier as he quietly adjusted one of the couch's pillows underneath your head. He swallowed as you shifted, bringing yourself closer to the pillow and to him. He sighed to himself, moving the loose tresses from your face.
For the past few months, he had been ignoring everything everyone had said. The taunting reminders from Max. The looks from Charles. The raised brows from George. He thought that if he was undeterred, he wouldn't be affected. But as he sat here next to you, his fear grew at the thought of what he didn't have with you.
These days it was becoming impossible to detach you from anything. Every thought, every breath, every blink... all he had had become consumed by you. He wasn't sure when what he felt had become so deeply engrained. Far more than the world-stopping glimpse he had when he first saw you.
He had watched you grow with the team. Watched your guards break down with him. Seen you become nervous because of him. Slowly but surely choose yourself over your work.
You told stories. You laughed. You lived.
You were like a constant in his life. Wholeheartedly, you had become the subject of his prayers. The bare bones of his religion. Leaving his soul aching for yours.
And it wasn't that he was impatient. He could wait. Even if you had told him to come back in ten years, he would do it in a heartbeat. But the idea that this could also all disappear... that terrified him the most.
Things were beginning to get worse.
Because there was no part of you that had thought about this when you had signed your contract with Mercedes. That you would be standing here, in front of the bathroom mirror, convincing yourself that some kid was not making you blush and your chest tighten spontaneously throughout the day. No. Not a single part of you.
But you were.
It was sickening.
Something had to be wrong with you.
Becuase this was not happening. You definitely didn’t like Kimi Antonelli.
You were just... out of the practice. Yeah. That was it. All these many years dedicated to your work, you had ignored all opportunities of romance. So much you had now become delusional.
You had even done the maths. That gap... boy, it was more than five. But it didn't matter because this wasn't real. You were imagining things.
But what if you weren't?
You hadn't imagined that every time you heard your name come from Kimi's mouth, in a room full of people, it sounded like it was always only meant for you. It was soft yet heavy. Casual yet so intentional. And you had never heard your name spoken that way.
Or how he memorised every little thing about you. Screw your invisible two-inch trim. He knew your favourite songs, sneakily adding them to the queue in the garage. The sudden bouquet of your favourite flowers that had ended up next to your laptop could've only been done by him. He sat down with you during breaks to play your favourite board game. No one had ever done that for you.
But worse of all, you didn't know when you had let yourself become an open book.
And no matter how much your head spun, torn, you couldn't take back what you had spilled. Instead your heart seemed to had grown claws, desperate as it tried to tear out of your chest, reaching towards Kimi.
But he was so young.
You sighed so deeply it hurt as you looked at yourself in the bathroom mirror. "Fuck," you grumbled with annoyance, rubbing your stinging eyes harshly. The longer you looked, the more your stomach churned. Perhaps this was better. The disgust rather than the want.
You nodded, hearing the bathroom door open, reminding you of the reality outside of these four walls. Right. Back to work.
"Buon—" Kimi paused, brows furrowing at the empty space where you usually sat. He blinked blankly, heart practically frowning at the sight. He turned his head as Bono walked past. "Where's ___?"
Bono sighed. Of course that was the first thing he'd ask in the morning. What else was he to expect? "In Brackley," he responded flatly, taking his seat next to your empty spot.
"What?" Kimi queried with disbelief, stepping towards his engineer. He might as well have said someone had died. "Why?"
Why the hell were you not here in Silverstone? With the team. With him. And why the hell didn't he know about it?
Bono looked down the bridge of his nose, through his glasses. "She said she wanted to work from there this weekend. Something about being closer to home."
Kimi narrowed his gaze. "This is Silverstone, Bono. This is home," he deadpanned, hands falling to his side. What the heck was going on?
"I don't know what to tell you, mate," Bono shrugged. "Now hurry up and get training."
Kimi pursed his lips, head shaking as he forced his feet to move towards his driver's room. This didn't feel right. Everything about this felt wrong. It was like someone had told him Santa didn't exist.
Without you, there was a void in the garage. Even the clouds were darkening in the peak of this heatwave. Rain... during a heatwave. Now that'd be the day.
Kimi shoved his bag in his room, opening his phone without a second thought. He pressed your name in his contacts, letting the call ring throughout the air. He was patient. Even when the ring had turned into voicemail.
"___... is everything okay? You're not here. But you're always here," he stated the obvious, voice sparse and bleak. "Can you call me back and tell me everything's okay? I just need to know you're fine," he murmured, fingers tightening around his phone.
Every race you ever strategised, you always gave it a percentage of how wrong it could go. A safeguard. Five percent. That was the maximum amount you allowed. One wrong call that wasn't deterimental. That wasn't race-destroying.
But as you sat from the Mercedes headquarters, you couldn't tell where the line between wrong and right started and finished.
Kimi's pole had been dismantled right from the start, dropping him to third position, leaving Charles to lead. And even when he had made it back to P1 once the Ferrari pitted and played the long game, things had begun to fall apart after you had called him in for a pit. Yellow flags and safety cars beyond your wildest imagination.
But it struck you the most when you heard it. Lap 41.
"I have something broken in the car."
It was like your heart had sunk and nausea had hit all at once. Even around you, the silence was thick. As if a single sound would disrupt this moment of hope. A pray that nothing was broken. That this was all a sick joke.
But it continued between Kimi and Bono while you frantically searched the data with the others. The data made no sense. Numbers slowing down like there was something wrong. Yet, everywhere you looked, there was not a damn thing wrong with the car itself.
It was a dreading call you had to make after you had rushed your exchanges with your co-workers. Between the car and track limits... "Just... Just tell him to retire the car."
The silence hit yet again. Even from Kimi. A bitter pill no one wanted to swallow.
"I can try! I can try to get a point! At least one point!"
You pursed your lips at the strained voice through the radio. You breathed in deeply, head shaking at the pang in your heart. "He's way past track limits. It’s a five-second penalty if he stays out. Just bring the the car back," you stated firmly.
But Kimi doesn't listen. Not to Bono. Not to your orders through him. Remaining out, he was desperate. You could almost see it over his car as he drove, rushing to keep his distance from Colapinto beyond five seconds.
One point. One point. One point.
You could've sworn you almost threw up with the yellow flags came out again as Max crashed. And with the safety car out and a five second penalty, Kimi's dreams of a single point had diminished just like that.
You had done almost everything you could have in your apartment. Cleaned, thrown the rubbish out, cleaned again, sorted everything like a maniac, and deep cleaned. But nothing had quite silenced the voices in your head post-race.
The post-race debrief was a heavy one. Even as you sat in on it from Brackley, the silence was unlike anything you had heard before. A hit to Kimi's championship all because of a mechanical failure. The apologies had been made from the team to Kimi as well. But it hadn't reduced the heavy blow of it all. It was too soon, too raw to accept.
You sighed as you shifted on your couch, closing your eyes for the umpteenth time in the past twenty minutes. You had tried to sleep it off. A quick mind-numbing nap. But with every minute that passed, you couldn't ignore the increasingly empty void. Like you were missing a certain presence near you.
Kimi's presence.
You grabbed the pillow underneath your head and smashed it over your face, groaning with annoyance. This was ridiculous. You were a grown woman upset and torn over some bloody kid.
What was wrong with you?
Why couldn't you just separate yourself from this? You had done it before, time and time again. Ignored the numbers slipped onto pieces of papers, brushed off the flirting comments, and shut down any attempts to take you out. What the hell made Kimi so different?
Knock.
Knock.
Knock.
You leaned forward from your couch, eyeing your door curiously. You stood up with the second round of knocking, sighing tiredly as you walked over. Who on earth was disturbing your meltdown right no—
"Kimi," you breathed, eyes wide as you opened the door. Your words seemed to get lodged in your throat, stuck with every thought rushing to your head. Why was he here? How did he get here?
"I... um, I—" you paused at the reddened eyes staring back at you. Like he had been crying. You sighed deeply, shoulders slumping. "I'm so sorry, Kimi. That... That shouldn't have happened to you."
Kimi swallowed tightly, not saying anything for a moment. His eyes lingered like they always did, ensuring you were in front of him. That you hadn't disappeared like he thought you had.
"You never called me back."
You blinked, chest tightening at his words. "I... I silenced my phone when I got into work," you murmured, as though you hadn't watched his name sprawl onto your screen. Like you hadn't listened to his message twice. You sucked in a sharp breath. "Look,
"Why didn't you call me back?"
"Kimi—" You interjected with a sigh, stepping back as he took a step forward.
"I wouldn't have minded if you even said something on the radio," he exasperated, skin still flushed with exhaustion. "Just... something. Anything to say you were here. That you were fine."
"Kimi," you grumbled under your breath, mind beginning to ache. Your breath shook as he grabbed your hand, the action careful and controlled.
"___, I don't care if we do whatever this is for five years or ten. As long as you're here with me," he heaved, fingers tightening. The burden on his shoulders had finally begun taking its toll, patience thinner than usual today. He had to have it out today.
You shook your head, unable to take the weight of what you were able to hear. "Please, don't do this, Kimi," you breathed, hand aching to prick his fingers off of you.
"No, I have to say this. I... I want to be yours, and I’m trying to be deserving of it. And if you let me, I promise I'll be good," he lamented, brown eyes filled with tears for the second time today.
Your chest ached, heart skipping in ways that should've made you happy. Not fearful.
The hurt slashed across his face in a way that tore your heart as you pulled your hand out of his grasp. You chewed your lip nervously, head still shaking. "You're a kid, for crying out loud, Kimi!" You exclaimed, throat tightening. "You have no idea what you want. And I'm certain it's not me. You’re... You're too young for me."
Kimi blinked at the sentence he had heard again and again in the past few months. He hated it. He hated it with the same amount of passion he liked you.
"I'm might be young. But I'm not a kid. I'm not an idiot," he whispered sorely, voice cracking. "I know what I'm doing. I know what I want. And its you."
"You're not thinking this through," you swallowed thickly. "I mean, one day, I'll be like fifty. I don't know... old and used. And you'll be still be young," you murmured with a frown.
"At least you're thinking about our future. That's a start," Kimi weakly joked, breathing in.
"Kimi," you chided with a small glare. "I'm serious."
He sighed, stepping closer towards you, not leaving a gap as he rested his head on yours. His hand reached out to push your hair behind your ear, stopping at the curve of your jaw, fingertips tingling against your skin.
"I don't care," he whispered, brown eyes holding your gaze without faltering. "Old, young... I want you however you are. You're always beautiful in my eyes. And 'used?' Belle," he clicked his tongue, lips quirking almost with amusement. "I'm not letting you go. You're gonna be stuck with me forever."
You gave him a small grin, eyes rolling before you paused on the few stray tears that had fallen unbeknownst to you. You sighed, soft pads of your fingers wiping away the damp liquid gently. "Sorry, I made you cry," you murmured, guilt already beginning to fester.
Kimi grabbed the back of your hand with his and kissed the side of your palm deeply. "Its behind us now," he mumbled, looking back at you with slightly raised brows. "There is an 'us' right?"
You smiled softly, nodding. "Yeah. I want you too," you said quietly, barely even audible as the heat in your cheeks grew. God, this was strangely humiliating. Like you were a kid with a crush all over again. Except, you were admitting it to someone a lot younger than you.
"Sorry, what was that?" Kimi asked, teasing grin on his face. "I didn't quite catch that."
"Ugh, you're awful," you complained loudly, pushing him away from you. "I take it back. I don't like you. I hate you. Despise you in fact. Loathe y—"
Kimi grinned wider, pulling you by the hand before he pressed his lips against yours.
Time seemed to slow once again. The world stopping just for the both of you. Your hands fell to his waist, fisting the material of his shirt while his hands rested on your jaw. His nose knocked against yours, head tilting while you parted his mouth with a simple ease, much to your surprise.
Despite being out of practice, you supposed experience triumphed this one.
The air in Kimi's lungs seemed to burn, feverishly caught while any thought he once had had melted. Of course he couldn't think. Not when he could feel the tips of your fingers sear through his shirt. Or the smell of your perfume wrap around him so closely he could almost taste it on his tongue.
You shivered at soft noise falling from Kimi's throat, feeling his hand move to your waist to bring you closer against him. Your skin boiled with a heat unlike any other. Your chest soaring to heights you had never imagined.
You smiled quietly against his lips, feeling his urgency begin to take over. With a soft chuckle, you pulled away, returning his breath to him. You heaved, eyes grinning at him. "That's enough for now," you teased.
"Oh come on," Kimi murmured, skin positively flushed. "I could do that forever," he breathed.
You rolled your eyes, stepping back from him. "Now close the door. You've let all the cold air in," you huffed, turning back to your living room with a blank mind and giddy smile. Jesus Christ... something was definitely wrong with you.
He sighed, moving to do as you said as his brows furrowed. "What were you doing before I got here?" He queried, clicking the door shut.
You hummed, shifting on your feet as you turned back towards him. "I was trying to take a nap. But I couldn't," you shrugged. You blinked, narrowing your eyes at him. "Speaking of that... how did you get here? You didn't pester Bono into giving you my address, did you?"
Kimi scratched the back of his head with a sheepish smile as he took a step forward. "Let's just take a nap together, shall we?"
"Neteyam, Jake's going to kill us if we don't show up on time for dinner..." you could only mumble it when you barely detached yourself from his lips, with a soft gasp coming out of your mouth.
Neteyam reluctantly pulled away from you, without opening his eyes. He mumbled something unintelligible in response, rubbing your skin with his palm resting on your side. Breathing right into your face, he accidentally poked you with his foot, and then his tail twitched after a long period of rest.
"Fuck dad, it's okay if we're late..." Neteyam replied in a barely audible voice, pulling you even closer to him. He just wanted to stay by your side for a little longer, just to lie on the soft moss, tell his new dreams, kiss and touch each other. All these activities, confusion, hunting, help in the village, it's all so boring.
"You're learning English just to swear...!" you replied a little indignantly, laughing and poking him lightly in the shoulder. "But Neteyam, what? Are we disobeying Father? It’s horrible," you began to tease him, finally bringing him into a more conscious state so that he would finally wake up.
"Lo'ak is always late, nothing terrible will happen if we also do it once..." Neteyam began to chatter, opening his eyelids and looking straight into your eyes.
"No, it's going to be the end of the world!" you cheerfully began to parody Neteyam, putting your hand on his shoulder. "There's no way, we should..."
"Just shut up," Neteyam replied with a weak grin, quickly silencing you with a new kiss, crushing your lips tightly with his own as he slowly rose on his elbows to lean over you a little.
A smile spread across your lips through the kiss, but you had to interrupt it because you didn't finish, "But hey, you know, it's kinda hot, like, when you try to break the rules," you said with a smack, breaking away from his lips, shaking your head, and reached out to his head, gently tucking his pigtails behind his ear.
"I told you to shut up," Neteyam said, trying to look stern, but he laughed himself, leaning in for another kiss until you started talking and teasing him again.
Hey guys, I know this is a lot to ask, but can anyone donate just £1 or more to my Ko-fi?
I have a 15 year old sister that wants to visit her.
My mum is in the ICU, And has lost her job.
We have enough money between us to cover some of the bills to run our home whilst she is in hospital, but we live three hours away from where she is staying.
Anything, anything at all we would be grateful for.
I hate coming on here to ask, but my oldest sisters are already working themselves sick trying to cover what they can.
also i just don’t believe that god has always shipped them and they always made her smile. like??? did we watch the same show? the one where they had to wait more than 5,000 years to even call it a friendship because their love was so taboo? the same one where god drowned and killed kids just to make a point btw. no way was she up there in the clouds tumblr blogging about ineffable husbands
so happy for these random old men who we know nothing about! yay!
would have loved to see the two main characters who we have followed and gotten to know throughout the last two seasons end up happy but whatever. it's fine.
the fact that they lost all their shared history, all the time they spent together. sure they get to be together as humans in a different universe but they lost their lives together as aziraphale and crowley. they lost all their previous memories of each other and the relationship they built up over all those years. mourning the ending that they didn't get to have.
6000 years. they'd been friends for 6000 years and spent the whole time pretending they weren't. they loved each other more than anything else in the universe and they only got a couple of years to live without heaven and hell breathing down their necks after saving the world. they didn't get any time at all to live together with everything out in the open. nightingales might have sang in berkeley square again but they weren't there to hear them. they never got to be an us. after all that.
snowghoul
izzy806
pixelskylines
origamiaround
yousharknotpass
stormborns
titsay
