#ms47fluff

The drivers insisted that you were completely different from racing but no one believed it. Your positive radio messages praising good moves, even those against you, weren't shown and all your good deeds seemed to be overshadowed by DTS. You had fans though who knew all that you liked and what you were actually like. 

It didn't matter to them, though. To the media, to DTS, you were nothing but an evil, harsh, rude, disrespectful driver. You couldn't help being passionate about your job, though. You wanted to make your family proud. You wanted to make the whole of Brazil proud. You needed to make the whole of Brazil proud. So it made you tough, determined, it made you realise that there isn't much you wouldn't do to achieve your dreams. If it meant all your time and effort, it meant all that time and effort. Every. Single. Bit. But that's just something that came with being a Brazilian, determined Formula One driver who's dad was THE Rubens Barrichello.

Your dad and Michael Schumacher were closer than people believed. It was sometimes played off as a rivalry with a hint of friendship but, realistically speaking, they were relatively good friends. You weren't too close with their family, though, until around 2009. You had always been a very determined racer. And that meant being overly competitive in your karting days. Most of your karting group weren't as close with you because of that. Except one person - Mick Schumacher.

The friendship between you both had started off with you being quiet and closed off to everyone. He had been very determined to change that. Over time, you had learnt to tolerate his bubbly, smiley self and had started to care deeply for the man. He was the only person you allowed yourself around. You had never once raised your voice at him. Then again, you had never been angry at him post race. He had always been there if you had been taken out of a race. Whether that be him having DNFed as well or after he finished a race, he would always be there for you. And you were for him. No matter what happened, if he finished the race, if he dnfed, etc. you always made it very very clear that you were proud of him. You never let him feel anything but an incredible driver, an incredible person. Because that is exactly what he was. A good talent in a shitbox Haas. A good person. Your person. 

A fond memory the pair of you held was when Gina had convinced you both to watch Grey's Anatomy so she could discuss it with someone and you had watched it together. When Meredith first called Christina her person, Mick had looked down at you, where you had been cuddled into his gentle embrace. “You know,” he had said softly, pausing for a moment as you looked up at him, watching you as your beautiful eyes had met his, softening the second you had looked at him, nothing but adoration in your eyes. “You're my person.” He had stated it so genuinely, his hand running through your hair as you both just stared at each other. He had watched the way your eyes seemed to light up the second he said it. Just when he was convinced he couldn't pine over someone as much as he did, you once again had proved him wrong.

Mick had never considered himself scared of you. Lots of people would say that he was only friends with you because he was scared of you. But that wasn't true. That had never been true. He loved who you were when you were with him. He knew how misunderstood you were. He knew that, sure, sometimes you got pissed off when you DNFed, but everyone did. Sure, sometimes you would exchange a few words back and forth with another driver who took you out, but you always apologised if you got angry and the occasions you were very angry were incredibly rare. As in, he had only seen you properly shout at someone 3 times in the time he'd known you - once when Pierre Gasly had been driving incredibly recklessly and you had yelled at him a little bit because he easily could've seriously injured someone, once in Karting when you were 11 and someone had cost you the championship through a stupid move (yes, you had apologised for that), and in 2021 when Max Verstappen had crashed you out of the championship fight. You wouldn't have yelled at the man (and slapped him) had he not had that fucking smirk on his face when he found out that he was still in the championship fight, even though you weren't. He didn't care about you no longer being in the championship. In fact, it suited him better because it had been a two way tie instead of 3. He had later apologised for that though so, not wanting to cause any drama, you accepted.

Mick had never felt so scared in his life as he had been during the 2022 Japanese Grand Prix. Someone, he wasn't sure who, had hit the back of his car and he had felt his heart stop when he felt himself latch onto the back of your car, dragging you with him, quite roughly. What had stopped his heart most, at that point, was the tractor that was on track without a red flag. Luckily, to both of your luck, you were both in a position where you were just out of the way so you had both hit the barrier, albeit pretty hard, but without any tractor incidents. And the race had finally been red flagged. You hit your hands on the steering wheel, speaking over the radio. “For f**ks sake. Please tell me I'm not out of the championship.”

“You're not, Y/N. You're still in the championship race.”

“Thank f**king God. Who even crashed into me? That could've been so dangerous for both of us if we had gone into that tractor.”

“Uhm, it appears to be Schumacher. All cars are past, you can get out of your car now.”

You had taken your seat belt off with record speed, getting out of the car and replacing the steering wheel. You turned, seeing Mick. He was sitting on the floor, knees brought up to his chest, helmet off, and his head in his arms. You were confused. Was he hurt? You headed over to him, crouching down.

“Mick. You okay?” He looked up at you, nodding. “You're not hurt, no?” He shook his head. “Alright. Come on, let's go get in the car and get back to the pits, alright?” He followed you.

However, once you got out of the car, he rushed off straight to the Haas garage. No goodbye or anything, just left. Placing your helmet into the hands of your race engineer, you watched Mick wipe his face as he headed into the Haas garage. You turned to your race engineer, zoning in as he questioned you on you being okay and not injured and stuff.

You had joined Formula One in 2021 with Porsche. Porsche weren’t meant to be coming into F1 for a few years, however, they had somehow managed to convince the FIA that there should be an 11th team on the grid and, somehow, they had agreed. Willingly. Thus, Porsche F1 Team was born. The grid increased from 20 drivers to 22, with you being joined by someone you drove in F2 with - Felipe Drugovich, another Brazilian driver. You had been beyond hyped, especially when Porsche had absolutely ripped, bringing you all to P4 in the constructors in its first season. Now, however, there was a chance of it being P1. And you were going to take that chance. Your dream was to be a champion, to make your country and your dad proud, and you would do anything to make that happen.

Feeling a tap on your shoulder, you turned to see a frantic Haas employee. “I'm so sorry for interrupting. Mick is freaking out, we need you.”

“What happened? Is he okay?”

“He's really worried that he took you out of the championship. I think he's scared to lose you. We tried to reassure him but I think it would be better coming from you. He also isn't going to medical despite needing to.”

You turned to your race engineer. “Can we catch up later?”

He shook his head. “Y/N you need to go get checked in the medical centre. That should be your priority right now.”

“No. I don't think you understand. Mick is my priority. Always. I'll go to medical with him.” You walked away quickly, following his race engineer towards Haas.

You walked into the garage, ignoring the weird looks you were getting, and straight over to the German driver who was sitting in the back corner, just like how you found him at the track, but inside this time, surrounded by people. They quickly cleared off when you signalled for them to. You knelt down in front of him. You didn't say anything, placing your hand gently on his knee.

He looked at you. “I am so so sorry,” he whispered, and you could see that he'd been trying.

“For what? You didn't mean to take me out with you.”

He had already looked away from your face.  “Yeah but I ruined your chance of winning the championship again. I'm so sorry. Please don't hate me, I don't want to lose you.”

You placed your finger on his chin, lifting his head so his eyes met yours. Your hand then moved up to his cheek, taking his face into your hand softly. “Mickey, you didn't take me out of the championship. I can still win. And even if you did, you wouldn't lose me, alright?”

“But… Max last year.”

“Mick Schumacher, the only way that you will lose me is the day that I die.” He smiled slightly and you took the opportunity to wipe a bit of the wetness on his face away with your thumb. “Plus, that was so, so different. Max smirked and made a comment when he found out I wasn't in the championship, it was deliberate, and I still forgave him. But he's nothing compared to how far you would genuinely have to go to push me away.”

“I don't get it, why?”

“You're Mick. You're my Mick. You're my person and I love you more than I'll ever be able to express to you.”

You hadn't felt his hand on the back of your neck until it pulled you to connect your lips with his. You didn't react at first, just genuinely in shock at the feeling of his lips on yours. His soft, gentle lips. The thing you had always wanted. And it was what you had wanted for years. And then he pulled away. “Fuck, I'm so sorry Y/N, I wasn't thinking. I shouldn't have-” You cut him off again to reconnect your lips, which he seemed to appreciate, as evident by his grip on your hair tightening slightly. 

You pulled away from the kiss. “Odds on our PR managers having heart attacks right now?”

He chuckled quietly, showing you that beautiful smile of his that you adored. “Oh, almost 100%,” he responded, causing you to laugh as well, head leaning to rest on his shoulder. “We're on camera,” he whispered in your ear. 

“Give them a wave,” you joked in response. “I believe we have to take a trip to medical.” You stood up, hand outstretched to take his. You shot a wink at the camera as you both stood up, before you walked out of the garage.

-Word Count: 2,083-

Hi All, This is short and quickly written and unedited. Apologies for not posting this on Monday. Let me know if you want to be on my general taglist Have a good day x Alocon