Hi! I have a request for a Y/N × Kimi fic.
They get into a huge argument, and Y/N storms out of the house. She doesn't come back for days, and Kimi has no idea where she is.
I think Kimi would be the type to keep texting and calling her constantly, even though she never responds. He keeps checking in, apologizing, asking if she's okay, and begging her to come home.
The only time Y/N finally contacts him is when she presses her emergency button because she's been in a serious accident. Kimi immediately drops everything and rushes to her as fast as he can because he's terrified and so worried about her.
Thank uuu and i love ur work!!🫶🏼🫶🏼
Pairing: Kimi Antonelli x Reader (y/n)
Warnings: angst, arguments, car accident, blood, hospital, physical injuries
Summary: After a devastating argument, you storm out and disappear for days. A desperate Kimi floods your phone with messages, only to receive your emergency signal when a severe accident leaves you fighting for your life.
Author’s note: I hope this emotional roller coaster squeezes your heart as much as it did mine. Thanks for the nice words. Take care!! xx
The silence in the apartment was not peaceful, it was the heavy, suffocating kind that felt like a physical weight pressing down on your chest. For the past hour, the space between you and Kimi had been filled with sharp words, rising voices, and the bitter sting of misunderstandings that had been building up for months. His career was exploding, the pressure of being thrust into the global spotlight was weighing on his young shoulders, and you were trying your best to be his anchor while slowly feeling yourself drift out to sea.
It had started over something incredibly trivial, a misplaced set of keys or a forgotten dinner plan, but it had rapidly spiraled into a referendum on your entire relationship.
You stood by the kitchen counter, your hands gripping the edge so hard your knuckles turned white. Kimi stood a few feet away, his curls messy from where he had run his hands through them in frustration, his blue eyes flashing with an anger that was so rare for him.
“You are never just here with me anymore,” you said, your voice shaking as you tried to keep it steady. “Even when you are physically in the room, your mind is somewhere else, Kimi. I feel like I am living with a ghost.”
Kimi threw his hands up in the air, his chest heaving. “And what do you want me to do? You think this is easy for me? I am trying to build a future for us. I am under so much pressure every single day, and when I come home, I just want peace. Instead, I get you questioning everything I do, complaining that I am not present enough. I am doing my best.”
“Your best is leaving me behind,” you replied, the words slipping out before you could stop them. They hit him visible, making him flinch, but his expression hardened a second later.
“If you feel so left behind, then maybe you should not be here,” Kimi said, the words cold and sharp.
The kitchen went dead quiet. The air felt frozen. You stared at him, waiting for him to take it back, to say he did not mean it, but his jaw remained clenched, and he looked away, refusing to meet your eyes. Something inside you snapped, a quiet, neat break that left you feeling entirely hollow.
Without saying another word, you turned on your heel. You walked down the hallway, grabbed your jacket from the hook by the door, and picked up your keys and your phone.
“Where are you going?” Kimi called out, his voice losing some of its angry edge and replacing it with sudden uncertainty.
You did not answer. You opened the front door, stepped out into the carpeted hallway of the apartment building, and pulled the door shut behind you. The click of the lock echoing in the quiet corridor felt like a definitive end. You walked quickly down the hall, took the stairs instead of the elevator because you could not stand the thought of waiting even a few seconds, and stepped out into the cool, clear night air.
The city was alive with streetlights and distant traffic, the sky clear and dotted with a few faint stars. It was a beautiful night, completely at odds with the storm raging in your chest. You got into your car, started the engine, and just drove. You had no destination in mind, you just knew you needed to get as far away from the apartment, and from him, as possible.
Back in the apartment, Kimi stood in the middle of the living room, his hands trembling slightly. He expected to hear the door open again. He expected you to walk back in, to throw your jacket on the couch, and to continue the argument or at least tell him off again. But minutes ticked by, turning into an hour, and the silence only grew deeper. He sat down on the sofa, burying his face in his hands. He was so incredibly tired, and the words he had said tasted like ash in his mouth. He had not meant them. He never wanted you to leave.
By midnight, his anxiety began to crawl up his throat. He reached for his phone and typed out the first message.
“I am sorry. I did not mean what I said. Please come back so we can talk. Let me know you are safe.”
He stared at the screen, waiting for the little bubbles to appear, indicating you were typing. Nothing happened. He locked the phone, set it face down on the coffee table, and tried to close his eyes, but sleep was a distant, impossible concept.
The next morning, the apartment was bathed in bright, mocking sunlight. Kimi woke up on the couch, still wearing his clothes from the night before. He jumped up, instantly looking around the room, hoping to see your shoes by the door or hear the sound of the shower running. Nothing. The apartment was exactly as he had left it.
He grabbed his phone. There were no notifications from you. He called your number, listening to the dial tone ring once, twice, three times, before it went straight to voicemail.
“Hey, it is me,” Kimi said, his voice rough and thick with sleep and worry. “I am so sorry about last night. I was stupid and stressed, and I should never have said those things to you. Please call me back when you see this. I just want to know you are okay. I love you.”
He hung up, staring at the screen. He sent another text.
“Please call me. Even if you are still angry, just let me know you are safe somewhere.”
Hours bled into days, and the silence from your end remained absolute. You had gone to stay at a small, quiet hotel on the outskirts of the city, a place where nobody knew you or Kimi. You kept your phone on do not disturb, unable to face the barrage of notifications you knew were waiting for you. You needed space, you needed to breathe without the suffocating weight of his career and your fading relationship pressing down on you. But even in the quiet of the hotel room, your mind was a chaotic mess of doubts and sadness.
Meanwhile, Kimi was slowly losing his mind. He had to go to the simulator, he had to attend briefings, but his mind was completely useless. His engineers noticed his distraction, his manager asked him multiple times if he was feeling alright, but Kimi just brushed them off, his eyes constantly darting to his phone sitting on the prep table.
Every free second he had, he was texting you. It became a lifeline, a way to feel connected to you even if it was entirely one sided.
“I cannot focus on anything,” he wrote on the second day. “Every time I look at my phone I hope it is you. I am so sorry. I do not care about the argument, I do not care about being right. I just want you home. Please, Y/N.”
A few hours later, another message followed.
“Are you staying with a friend? Please just tell me yes or no. I will not come bother you if you need space, I just need to know you are not hurt.”
On the third day, the desperation in his messages turned into outright panic. He had called your friends, trying to ask casually if they had seen you, but he did not want to alarm them or spark rumors, so he had to play it down, pretending you were just busy. None of them had seen you.
“I am starting to get really scared now,” he texted, his fingers flying across the keyboard as he sat in his car outside the factory. “It has been three days. You have never done this before. Please, Y/N, just send a single dot, anything, so I know you are okay. I am begging you. I cannot eat, I cannot sleep. I am so sorry for how I treated you.”
He called you again, listening to the voicemail greeting, just wanting to hear the sound of your recorded voice.
“Please,” Kimi whispered into the phone when the beep sounded. “Please come home. I love you so much. We can fix whatever is broken, I promise you. Just let me know where you are.”
On the fourth day, you finally decided you could not keep running forever. The anger had faded, leaving behind a dull, aching sadness and a deep sense of exhaustion. You missed him, despite how angry you had been, and you knew you had to face the reality of your situation. You decided to drive back toward the city, to at least talk to him face to face and figure out where you both stood.
You checked your phone for the first time in days. The sheer volume of messages and missed calls from Kimi made your heart squeeze. Seeing his frantic apologies and his desperate pleas for you to just let him know you were safe made tears well up in your eyes. You felt a wave of guilt for leaving him in suspense for so long, even if you had needed the time to clear your head.
You got into your car and started the drive back. The afternoon sun was bright, casting long shadows across the highway as you wound your way through the hills outside the city. The traffic was light, and you let your mind wander, thinking about what you would say to him when you finally walked through the door. You wanted to tell him that you loved him, but that things had to change, that you both needed to find a way to navigate this new life together without losing each other in the process.
You were so lost in your thoughts that you did not see the truck coming from the side road.
It happened in a split second, a blur of heavy metal, the screeching of tires, and the terrifying sound of tearing steel. The impact was violent, hitting the driver’s side of your car with a force that shattered the glass and sent your vehicle spinning across the asphalt before it came to a crashing halt against the guardrail.
For a moment, there was only darkness and the loud, ringing silence in your ears.
When you opened your eyes, everything was a blur. Pain flared through your entire body, sharp and overwhelming. You could smell smoke, and the metallic tang of blood was in your mouth. You tried to move, but your left leg was pinned, and a searing pain shot up your arm. Panic set in, cold and sharp. You tried to breathe, but your chest felt tight, constricted by the deployed airbag and the crushing weight of the damaged dashboard.
Your phone had been thrown onto the passenger seat, luckily remaining within arm’s reach. With a trembling, bloodstained hand, you reached out, every movement feeling like it was happening underwater. Your fingers brushed the cool glass of the screen. You could not see well enough to dial a number, your vision was swimming with dark spots, and your head throbbed violently.
Then, you remembered the emergency button on your smart band, a feature Kimi had insisted you set up when you first started driving long distances alone. He had programmed his own number as the primary emergency contact, joking that he would always be your personal safety car.
Using the last of your strength, you pressed and held the button on the side of the band. It vibrated against your wrist, initiating the emergency sequence that would send your exact coordinates and a distress signal straight to his phone.
Once the vibration stopped, your hand fell back onto the seat, and the darkness closed in around you, pulling you under.
At the Mercedes factory, Kimi was sitting in a debrief room, his head resting in his hands as his engineer went over data from the simulator session. He was not listening. He was staring at his phone, which was resting on the table in front of him. His chest felt tight, a constant, low level anxiety humming through his veins.
Suddenly, his phone did not just ring, it let out a loud, continuous, high pitched siren sound, the specific alarm he had set up for your emergency contact.
Kimi jumped up so fast his chair flew backward, crashing against the floor. The engineer stopped talking, staring at him in surprise. Kimi grabbed the phone, his hands shaking so violently he almost dropped it. The screen was flashing red, displaying your name along with a map showing a location on the highway just outside the city, and a message, Emergency Signal Activated.
“Kimi, what is it?” his manager asked, standing up from his seat.
Kimi did not answer. The color had completely drained from his face, leaving him deathly pale. His heart was hammering against his ribs like a trapped bird. He did not say a word, he just grabbed his car keys from the table and bolted out of the room.
“Kimi, wait!” his manager called out, running after him, but Kimi was already sprinting down the hallway.
He ran through the lobby, pushing past the glass doors and racing toward his car in the parking lot. His mind was a chaotic blur of absolute terror. The fight, the days of silence, the anger, none of it mattered. The only thing that existed in his world was the flashing red dot on his phone screen and the knowledge that you were in trouble.
He got into his car, started the engine with a roar, and tore out of the parking lot, the tires screeching against the asphalt. He navigated the city traffic with the frantic precision of a racing driver who had everything to lose. He ignored the speed limits, weaving through lanes, his eyes darting between the road and the GPS map mounted on his dashboard.
“Please be okay, please be okay, please be okay,” he chanted like a prayer, his voice cracking. Tears of pure terror blurred his vision, and he had to swipe them away angrily with the back of his hand. He could not afford to lose focus now. He had to get to you.
As he approached the coordinates on the highway, his heart sank. Up ahead, he could see the flashing blue and red lights of emergency vehicles. Traffic was slowing down, being funneled into a single lane.
Kimi did not wait. He pulled his car onto the shoulder of the highway, driving past the stationary line of vehicles until he got as close as the police barriers would allow. He slammed on the brakes, threw the car into park, and jumped out.
The scene was chaotic. An ambulance, a fire truck, and two police cars were parked near the guardrail. In the center of the flashing lights was your car, crumpled and unrecognizable, pressed against the metal barrier.
“No, no, no,” Kimi sobbed, starting to run toward the wreckage.
“Hey, stop! You cannot go over there!” a police officer yelled, stepping into his path and catching him by the shoulders.
“That is my girlfriend!” Kimi screamed, trying to push past the officer with a strength born of pure desperation. “That is her car! Let me go! I need to get to her!”
“Son, calm down, the paramedics are working on her right now,” the officer said, holding him firmly. “You running in there is only going to make it harder for them to do their job. Just wait here.”
Kimi felt his knees go weak, and he would have collapsed to the ground if the officer had not been holding him. He watched, helpless and terrified, as the firefighters used heavy tools to pry open the driver’s side door of your car. Every second felt like an eternity, a painful, agonizing stretch of time where his chest felt like it was being crushed.
Finally, they managed to free you. Kimi watched as the paramedics carefully lifted you onto a stretcher, your body still and covered in blood, your face pale and bruised.
“Is she alive?” Kimi choked out, his voice barely a whisper. “Please tell me she is alive.”
The officer looked back at the paramedics, then turned to Kimi. “They are loading her into the ambulance now. You can ride with her, but you need to calm down. Can you do that?”
Kimi nodded frantically, wiping the tears from his face. “Yes, yes, I am calm, please, just let me go with her.”
The officer led him over to the ambulance. Kimi climbed into the back, his eyes immediately locking onto you. You looked so fragile lying there, surrounded by medical equipment, an oxygen mask over your face. A paramedic was checking your vitals, while another was starting an IV.
Kimi slid onto the bench beside the stretcher, immediately reaching out to grab your hand. It was cold, so cold, and smeared with dirt and dried blood. He pressed it against his cheek, his body shaking with silent, heavy sobs.
“I am here, Y/N,” he whispered, his voice trembling. “I am right here. I am so sorry. Please don't leave me. I am so, so sorry.”
The ride to the hospital was a blur of sirens and emergency procedures. Kimi did not let go of your hand for a single second. He watched the heart monitor, his own heart rate spiking every time the machine beeped. He kept talking to you, whispering apologies, telling you how much he loved you, begging you to open your eyes.
When they arrived at the hospital, the paramedics wheeled you quickly into the emergency room. Kimi tried to follow, but a nurse stopped him at the double doors, gently but firmly pushing him back.
“You have to wait here, sir,” she said. “We need to assess her injuries. We will come get you as soon as we can.”
The doors swung shut, cutting him off from you once again.
Kimi stood in the middle of the bright, sterile hallway, feeling entirely lost. He walked over to the waiting area and sank into a plastic chair, burying his face in his hands. The smell of the hospital, the bright fluorescent lights, the distant hum of voices, it all felt like a nightmare he could not wake up from.
He pulled out his phone. The screen was still displaying the emergency notification. He looked at the long list of unread messages he had sent you over the last four days. They seemed so insignificant now, his anger, his pride, his frustration, none of it mattered compared to the simple, terrifying fact that you were fighting for your life in the room down the hall.
An hour passed, then two. Kimi did not move. He sat in the chair, his hands clasped together, praying with everything he had.
Finally, a doctor in blue scrubs walked out of the double doors, looking around the waiting room. Kimi jumped up immediately, rushing over to him.
“Are you here for Y/N?” the doctor asked.
“Yes, I am her boyfriend,” Kimi said, his voice cracking. “Is she okay? Please tell me she is okay.”
The doctor gave him a reassuring, albeit tired, smile. “She is stable. She has a concussion, a fractured collarbone, and a pretty severe laceration on her left leg that required stitches, along with a lot of bruising. But she is incredibly lucky. The impact was severe, but the car’s safety features did their job. She is awake now, and she is asking for you.”
Kimi felt a wave of relief so intense he had to grab onto the reception desk to keep his balance. He let out a long, shaky breath, fresh tears spilling over his eyelashes.
“Can I see her?” he whispered.
“Yes, follow me,” the doctor said, turning and leading him down the hallway.
The doctor opened the door to a quiet, private room. The lights were dimmed, and the only sound was the soft, rhythmic beep of the heart monitor. You were lying in the bed, your head bandaged, your left arm in a sling, and your face covered in bruises. But your eyes were open, and when the door clicked, you turned your head slowly toward him.
Kimi stopped in the doorway for a fraction of a second, his heart aching at the sight of you. Then, he practically ran to your bedside, dropping to his knees so he was at eye level with you. He carefully took your right hand in both of his, pressing his forehead against your knuckles.
“Y/N,” he sobbed, the tears flowing freely now. “I am so sorry. I am so, so sorry.”
You squeezed his hand weakly, your fingers warm against his skin. “Kimi,” you whispered, your voice dry and raspy.
He looked up, his blue eyes red and swollen from crying. He reached up with a trembling hand, gently brushing a stray lock of hair away from your forehead, being incredibly careful not to touch your bandages.
“I was so scared,” Kimi whispered, his voice shaking. “When the alarm went off, I thought, I thought I lost you. I thought I would never get to tell you how sorry I am. I did not mean any of those things I said. I love you so much, Y/N. I do not care about the racing, I do not care about anything else, I just need you.”
You looked at him, seeing the raw, unshielded terror and love in his eyes. The anger that had driven you away four days ago was completely gone, replaced by a deep warmth and a sense of safety now that he was here.
“I am sorry too,” you said softly, a small, tired smile touching your lips. “I should not have run away like that. I should have answered your messages. I saw them, Kimi. I am sorry I made you worry.”
Kimi shook his head, kissing the back of your hand repeatedly. “Do not apologize. You had every right to be angry with me. I was being selfish and stressed, and I did not listen to you. But I promise you, things are going to change. I will make time for us. I will be better. Just please, never leave like that again.”
“I won't,” you promised, your eyes blinking slowly as the exhaustion and pain medication began to pull at you again. “I am not going anywhere.”
Kimi leaned up, carefully pressing his lips to your forehead, holding the kiss there for a long moment. He felt the steady beat of your pulse beneath his fingers, a beautiful, reassuring rhythm that promised him everything was going to be alright.
He pulled a chair close to the bed, sitting down and wrapping both of his hands around yours, refusing to let go. As your eyes closed and you drifted off into a peaceful sleep, Kimi sat beside you, watching over you, finally able to breathe again.
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