danielacmf

[danielacmf]

Shifting Gears–Chapter 15: Sneak Peek #2 💔Emotional Agony Edition💔

“So what, I’m supposed to stay quiet forever?” His voice rises. “Pretend I’m just your neighbor with benefits while we go play happy house with the pets and hide the rest?”  “That’s not what I’m saying.”  “Isn’t it?” He folds his arms, breathing hard. “Because this—” he gestures between us, “—this is real. Whether you like it or not. And I won’t live in a closet to make you comfortable.” 

[danielacmf]

Shifting Gears–Chapter 15: Sneak Peek #1

Leo circles once before flopping unceremoniously onto his back like a furry paperweight. He groans theatrically, head falling further against my stomach.  “I’m being suffocated by love,” he mumbles.  I almost tell him right there—that he is, and I’m the one doing it. But the words catch somewhere between my chest and throat, too heavy for the quiet between us. So I shove it aside, bury it under something easy.  “You’ll survive.”  “Unlikely.” His fingers dig lightly into my hip. “I’m fragile.”  I laugh quietly, thumb brushing over the swell of his cheekbone. “You won’t get sympathy from me. You’re the one who raided their beds and dragged them both in here like some kind of pet thief.” He grins, eyes still closed. “Guilty. But they looked lonely without us.”  My free hand slips beneath the blanket, tracing the curve of his back. His skin is warm, bare, soft beneath my palm. The silence lingers, comfortable and slow, filled only with the sound of Leo’s panting, Donut’s (or Donatello’s) steady purr, and his breath syncing with mine. 

[danielacmf]

From Swaying Hammocks to Hard Corners 💫

Welcome to the fourteenth chapter of Shifting Gears—where Tasmanian turtles are the least magical thing about a private island escape, a room service cart with hidden cargo, and overtakes come with… surprising side effects. ❤️💙

[danielacmf]

🚨Shifting Gears – Chapter 14: Update🚨

Hey everyone! 🥰 GUESS WHO FINALLY CRACKED THE GATEWAY SCENE?! 🙋‍♀️ That’s right—ME, and I am lowkey emotional about it. 😭 To celebrate this historical wrestling match (which left me soft, feral, and somewhere in between), I’m sharing ANOTHER full section from the Chinese GP—where Charles is back in Ferrari red, Max is spinning Red Bull cans like a menace, and yes… secret winks are happening in quiet corners of the paddock. ❤️💙

March 21, 2025 – Shanghai, China

A stray breeze rustles the red-tipped bushes lining the walkway as I step off the main thoroughfare, adjusting the collar of my Ferrari polo. The stone path winds beneath my feet, leading me through a stretch of calm that feels borrowed from another world—one untouched by photographers and the buzz of overcaffeinated reporters.

The silence is a sharp contrast to the circus behind me. Just minutes ago, I’d been smiling at strangers through the lens of their phones, autographing caps and hero cards while pretending that the tightening knot in my stomach wasn’t there. FP1 and Sprint Qualifying today—two sessions I’d normally be itching for. But after the mess in Australia, I feel like I’m standing on a fault line, one mistake away from unraveling.

I shift my sunglasses higher up the bridge of my nose and glance at the canopy of trees above, their bare branches tangled against the morning sky. A familiar tilt of metal catches my eye—the crooked streetlamp leaning slightly over the path like it’s eavesdropping.

And then, through the crisscross of branches, I spot him.

Max, striding down the parallel path, unhurried as always. His dark blue Red Bull jacket catches the soft light, sharp against the greenery. The matching cap shields most of his expression, but when his gaze lifts and meets mine, the corner of his mouth quirks.

There’s a weightless second where the world slows.

His fingers spin a can of Red Bull lazily, like it’s the most natural thing in the world to be here, walking this quiet path toward me as if we planned this. We didn’t. The paddock gods just decided to give us this sliver of peace. Alone. Almost.

Behind Max, his PR officer trails two steps behind, head down, tapping away on a tablet.

Max is the first to break the invisible line between us, veering slightly from his path to close the gap. His smirk deepens as he ducks beneath a low-hanging branch.

“All good, mate?” His voice is smooth, quiet, meant only for me. Then—quick as a flash—a wink. Subtle, gone before anyone behind him could catch it.

I feel the heat rise in my cheeks, absurdly grateful for the cover of my sunglasses.

I clear my throat and step closer, careful to keep my own smile just on the edge of casual. “Never better,” I murmur, flicking my eyes toward the Red Bull can spinning between his fingers. “Is that your race fuel, or are you bribing the mechanics with pretty smiles and cheeky winks today?”

His grin widens, all teeth and challenge, but there’s a softness in it too. “Depends,” he mutters, voice dropping so low it barely makes it past the breeze. “You think I’ll need it to survive sprint qualifying today?”

I resist the urge to roll my eyes, playing my part. “Only if you’re worried I’ll be ahead of you.” My tone is light, playful, but there’s a pulse of something steadier beneath it.

He tips his head, eyes glinting beneath the brim of his cap. “I’m always worried about you.”

It’s nothing more than a whisper, tucked between the leaves overhead and the rustling branches, but it punches straight through me.

His PR flunky’s footsteps crunch faintly on the gravel, breaking the moment. We both glance over—not too quickly—but just enough to remember where we are. Who we are. Rivals here. Rivals always, unless the world’s not looking.

I take a small step back, shifting my weight like I’m about to continue on, but Max mirrors me. Neither of us moves, not really.

“You’re hiding from the chaos, too?” I murmur, dropping my voice as if we’re conspirators.

Max spins the can again. “Didn’t feel like fielding questions about your teammate’s comments on the abuse I supposedly threw at my race engineer.”

“Understandable.” I shoot him a smirk. “You’d only dodge the question anyway.”

His chuckle is quiet, but the warmth behind it is real. “Says the man who answers everything with we’ll see.”

“That’s strategy,” I counter, fighting the grin tugging at my lips. “You wouldn’t understand.”

He leans in just enough for his arm to brush mine, the contact brief but deliberate. “Careful. You’re sounding cocky.”

I let the touch linger for half a heartbeat longer than I should. “You like it.”

He shakes his head, biting back a laugh. “Too much,” he breathes out, and the softness in his gaze makes my stomach twist.

The silence stretches between us again, broken only by the hush of the wind and the faint buzz of the paddock in the distance. It’s private, shielded by foliage and circumstance, but it can’t last. It never does.

Behind him, his PR officer’s voice finally pipes up. “Max, Viaplay’s waiting.”

Max doesn’t look away from me right away. For a second, he hesitates, fingers tightening slightly around the can before he exhales and steps back into his role.

“See you out there, mate,” he offers, louder this time, back to the relaxed, nonchalant Max Verstappen everyone expects.

I nod, matching the performance. “See you on track.”

But as he turns and walks away, back to the chaos, I catch the flicker of that same soft smile from before—the one no one else ever gets.

And beneath the fragile hush of Shanghai’s quiet paddock corners, I swear I can still feel the warmth of his shoulder brushing mine.

I adjust my collar again and keep walking toward Ferrari’s garage, heart beating too fast for this early in the day.

[danielacmf]

🚨Shifting Gears – Chapter 14: Update🚨

Hey everyone! 🥰 So, here’s the honest tea: I’ve been STRUGGLING (yes, all caps necessary) to piece together the beginning of Chapter 14—the infamous private island gateway in Tasmania. 🏝️💕 That’s why I’ve been a little quieter than usual over on Tumblr lately (I miss screaming with you all in the tags, trust me). I genuinely have no idea how that island scene will eventually land, but I refuse to give you anything half-baked or unworthy of the chaotic magic that is Max and Charles in close quarters. ✨ BUT—I don’t want to leave you completely starving for content! So, to make it up to you, I’m sharing the full section of the Shanghai media day scene. Yes, the one where Max gets absolutely soft over a certain Monegasque sending him cryptic Mandarin texts between Puma promo shoots. ❤️💙

March 20, 2025 – Shanghai, China

Shanghai paddock is buzzing with the usual Thursday chaos: photographers crouched like predators, journalists circling drivers in little packs, PR managers sprinting around like it’s a timed relay. I just escaped my morning media gauntlet, ducking every question about tire degradation, rivals, and the dramatic end of my 1029-day reign at the top of the championship. R.I.P. 

I’m barely five steps into the walkway toward the garage, Anna—my ever-watchful PR manager— trailing next to me, when something distracts me. 

There’s a Shiba Inu trotting proudly down the paddock walkway. The dog’s head is held high like it owns the place—and, to be fair, it kind of does. The tiny bastard is wearing a custom-made Red Bull shirt, complete with miniature sponsor logos. 

I snort, pulling my phone out of my pocket, ready to snap a photo for the group chat. GP will lose his mind when he sees this. 

Then my screen lights up. 

One new message.  

Charles. 

I swipe it open without thinking, thumb hovering mid-scroll. It’s a photo—black marker on what looks like a whiteboard, the bold, confident strokes of Chinese characters: 我想你. 

The ink is still fresh. 

I glance at the time. Charles should be buried under Puma commitments right now—some photoshoot-slash-promo event. Maybe they roped him into practicing Mandarin for the cameras? 

I stare at the characters for a moment.  

“Anna,” I murmur, tilting my phone just enough to show her the image—no sender, no context.  “Any idea what this means?”  

She barely glances up from her tablet. “Nope. Looks like Mandarin.” 

“Helpful,” I deadpan. 

Anna smirks. “Why don’t you just Google it?” 

Where’s the fun in that? 

Instead, I fire off a text: 

📲 Practicing your calligraphy skills now, Stormpje? Gotta say, I like how bold you went with the strokes. Looks like you’d be good with a marker… or something else long and sturdy. 

I smirk to myself and slide my phone back into my pocket as we continue walking. 

A buzz. 

I fish it out again, thumbing open Charles’s reply. 

📱 Is that the best you’ve got? You’re getting rusty, Maxie. 

Maxie. Damn him. 

📲Rusty? I’m pacing myself. We’ve got three days ahead of us. Save something for parc fermé 😉 

Another buzz. He’s fast today. 

I should’ve known you’d make it dirty. Typical Verstappen. 

📲 Guilty. Tell me, is this thirsty little note going on my fridge or am I framing it for the hallway? 

I round a corner, entering the garage. The usual controlled chaos swirls around us—mechanics huddled around my car, screens glowing with telemetry, the steady thrum of the paddock outside fading into the background. 

Anna peels off toward the hospitality suite, leaving me leaning against the wall by my car. The Red Bull dog struts past the entrance again, oblivious. 

Buzz. 

📱 It’s not a thirsty note. 

I grin, thumbs moving before my brain even catches up. 

📲 No? Could’ve fooled me. Sending me secret codes while we’re both stuck in media hell? Feels like foreplay. 

This time, there’s a pause. Long enough that I glance at the time, wondering if he’s gone back to modeling sneakers or posing dramatically in front of the Shanghai skyline. 

Then it comes. 

📱 Idiot. 

I chuckle, shaking my head. 

📲 It’s part of my charm. Come on, give me a hint. What did you write? 

A new message arrives, followed by another. First is just the photo again—those characters staring back at me. Then: 

📱 It means… Miss you. 

I blink. 

Oh. 

Something warm settles in my chest. I know we just spent three ridiculous, perfect days together on that island—the late nights, the lazy mornings, the kind of silence that feels like comfort instead of awkwardness—but reading those words hits different. 

I lean back against the wall, staring at my screen. The pit crew noise fades to a dull hum. My stomach flips, and for a second, I feel like I’m back on that hammock with him, half-drunk on sunshine and the way his laugh sounds when he’s completely relaxed. 

The phone buzzes again. 

📱 Don’t go soft on me now. 

I huff a quiet laugh, but my thumbs move slower this time. 

📲 Too late. Soft like the seat padding I had to ask to get adjusted because SOMEONE left me sore for three days. 

📱 Some champion you are. Can’t even handle a little cardio. 

📲 Little? Please. You’re like a one-man endurance test. 

My phone buzzes again almost immediately. 

📱 Should’ve hydrated better. I’ve got to run—media duty calls. 

I bite my lip, glancing around the garage. No one’s paying attention. They’re too focused on prepping the car, too busy with final checks. Good. Because my grin is way too obvious right now. 

📲 Go charm the world, Leclerc. 

The typing bubble appears and disappears twice. 

Finally, he replies. 

📱 Only one I’m trying to charm is you. 

And just like that, the last bit of distance between us—between the quiet nights in Tasmania and the paddock chaos here—feels a little smaller. 

I text back. 

📲 You’re doing a pretty damn good job of it. 

📱 Half the paddock would kill for that compliment. But I’ll keep it for myself. 

I tuck my phone away, still smiling like an idiot. 

Anna reappears with a raised eyebrow. “Good news?” 

I clear my throat, schooling my face back into something vaguely professional. “Yeah,” I mutter, glancing back at the paddock where the Shiba Inu just plopped itself next to a stack of tires, tail wagging. “Something like that.” 

Anna eyes me for a second longer, then shrugs and moves on. 

But me? I’m rooted here, heart a little too full for someone who’s supposed to be focused on tire temps and aero upgrades. 

Miss you. 

Yeah. I do too, Stormpje. I do too.  

[danielacmf]

From Bush-nappings to Stormy Kisses💫

Welcome to the thirteenth chapter of Shifting Gears—where half-hearted waves feel like loaded weapons, bush-napping becomes a questionable survival tactic, and raining kisses make Tasmanian storms feel downright romantic. ❤️💙

[danielacmf]

Shifting Gears–Chapter 13: Sneak Peek #1

This is a mistake. I know it the second his body tenses like a live wire against mine, all sharp, instinctive muscle memory. The split second it takes for recognition to set in isn’t fast enough to stop him from wrenching free with a force that almost sends me stumbling backward. He spins, eyes wide, breath ragged. “What the—” His words cut off, chest heaving, before he slaps a palm to his forehead, dragging it down his face. “Have you lost your entire damn mind?” I hold up my hands, trying to look as non-threatening as possible, which, considering I just kidnapped my boyfriend into a bush, is a tough sell. “Before you start,” I begin. “Oh, I’ve already started.” He gestures wildly at our surroundings, his voice just shy of murderous. “What the hell is wrong with you? You can’t just grab someone off a running path like some unhinged maniac!” I huff, crossing my arms. “You wanted a hug.”

[danielacmf]

From Fire Hazards to Blazing Blocks 💫

Welcome to the twelfth chapter of Shifting Gears—where game night takes a wildly inappropriate turn, hands-free technology is used in ways no manufacturer ever intended, and kitchen towels prove to be far more versatile (and dangerous) than anyone could have predicted. ❤️💙

P.S. Sorry for the missing Sneak Peek yesterday—I was brutally defeated by food poisoning. 😩

[danielacmf]

✨Shifting Gears – Chapter 12: Sneak Peek #2 (Rewrite Edition)✨

Let's talk about the Naughty Jenga Mystery Poll!!! You all studied the options, calculated the odds, and placed your bets like the depraved masterminds you are. And guess what? 27 of you got it right. 🍒🔥 The original plan? Max pulls the block. Charles suffers deliciously. Everyone wins. The problem? Writing Jenga smut is harder than I expected. (Who knew?) The logistics? A nightmare. The pacing? A mess. The tower? Emotionally unstable. I struggled, I swore, I scrapped it. I rewrite it.

I swallow hard, blinking hazily.  Max smirks. “Glad you’re enjoying yourself.”  Then he reaches for his next block.  His fingers slide over the wood, slow and methodical, like he’s savoring the moment. When he finally tugs one free, he flips it over, scans the words, and then—  His smile turns razor-sharp.  Tease your partner’s nipples.  I swallow. Once. Then again.  Max knows exactly how sensitive I am there. And he knows that I know.  His gaze lifts to mine, bright with something dangerous. “That’s a fun one.”  My mouth goes dry. “Define fun.”  "Well," he muses, reaching into the open box of my own debauchery and pulling free two sleek black devices, "it just so happens you own these." 

Shifting Gears–Chapter 12: Sneak Peek #2

I reach for the Jenga tower, letting my fingers drag deliberately over the blocks before I pick one and pull. My smirk deepens as I read the instruction. Then, slowly, I flip it around, letting Charles see.  His throat moves as he swallows once. Then again.  I don’t miss the way his shoulders tense, the way his chest rises just a little too fast—like his body is reacting before his brain can catch up. I know exactly how sensitive he is there.  And he knows that I know.  I tilt my head, deliberately casual. "That’s a fun one."  Charles exhales through his nose, already bracing. "Define fun."  I glance at the open box of his personal treasure trove of debauchery, then back at him. "Well," I murmur, reaching inside and plucking out the two sleek black devices I spotted earlier, "it just so happens you own these." 

[danielacmf]

Shifting Gears–Chapter 12: Sneak Peek #2

I reach for the Jenga tower, letting my fingers drag deliberately over the blocks before I pick one and pull. My smirk deepens as I read the instruction. Then, slowly, I flip it around, letting Charles see.  His throat moves as he swallows once. Then again.  I don’t miss the way his shoulders tense, the way his chest rises just a little too fast—like his body is reacting before his brain can catch up. I know exactly how sensitive he is there.  And he knows that I know.  I tilt my head, deliberately casual. "That’s a fun one."  Charles exhales through his nose, already bracing. "Define fun."  I glance at the open box of his personal treasure trove of debauchery, then back at him. "Well," I murmur, reaching inside and plucking out the two sleek black devices I spotted earlier, "it just so happens you own these." 

[danielacmf]

Shifting Gears–Chapter 12: Sneak Peek #1

I don’t expect my hand to brush against a soft, rectangular object, wedged between two stacks of clothes.  The moment I tug it free, it slips.  A quiet thump as it hits the floor.  Then—  Things scatter. Things roll. Things I don’t immediately register, because my brain short-circuits the second I see what just landed between my feet.  A sleek, black box.  And from that box—  A set of handcuffs.  A vibrator. No, multiple vibrators.  A concerning number of butt plugs in an alarming variety of sizes and shapes.  A small bottle that better not be dual-sensation lube.  And a box that proudly boasts “NAUGHTY BLOCKS FOR NAUGHTY PLAY!” 

[danielacmf]

From Serenades to Spirals 💫

Welcome to the eleventh chapter of Shifting Gears—where a certain Disney song takes on an entirely new meaning, the boyfriend thing goes from a simple slip of the tongue to a full-blown interrogation, and past revelations send us spiraling into uncharted emotional territory. ❤️💙

[danielacmf]

Shifting Gears–Chapter 11: Sneak Peek #3

My pulse is erratic now, my mind caught in a spiral. The tight feeling in my chest is getting worse, something unbearably heavy settling in my ribs. I don’t know why this hurts. I don’t understand why this conversation is making my stomach clench, why my throat feels thick.  I shake my head, trying to clear it. “I don’t know why I—” I cut myself off, frustrated. “I don’t even know what I’m feeling.”  Max doesn’t push. He just waits, his hands steady on me, offering warmth, offering something I can’t name. 

[danielacmf]

Shifting Gears–Chapter 11: Sneak Peek #2

He leans over me, pressing me down into the sheets, folding me up even further so I’m completely open for him, so he can fuck me exactly how he wants, exactly how I need him to.  His breath burns against my lips, his voice nothing but a growl now. "You think anyone else will ever get to see you like this?"  I shake my head frantically, completely gone, completely his. 

[danielacmf]

Shifting Gears–Chapter 11: Sneak Peek #1

[danielacmf]

From Sneaking In to Slipping Up 💫

Welcome to the tenth chapter of Shifting Gears—where a simple media day turns into a masterclass in tension, jealousy rears its messy head, and sneaking into hotel rooms in disguise somehow becomes a legitimate life skill. ❤️💙

[danielacmf]

Shifting Gears–Chapter 10: Sneak Peek #5

I let out a deep, suffering sigh, throwing an arm over my face. “I didn’t mean to call you my boyfriend.”  He turns his head, looking at me with that unreadable expression again. “No?”  I shake my head. “No. It was just—”  His smirk returns, full force, devastating and unfair.  “An inchident?” 

✨ Chapter 10 drops TOMORROW! ✨ Did you vote correctly in all 5 polls? 😏 There’s only one way to find out… see you there! 💕