Oscar sighs, sinking deeper into her plane seat. She pulls her phone and airpods from her bag beneath her seat. She pops an airpod in, unlocking her phone and excitedly clicking on her top notification.
MadMax33 is live!
Oscar smiles in anticipation as the stream loads, the shitty plane wifi making it take ages.
Once the stream finally loads, Oscar is greeted by the glorious site of Max Verstappen. Her hair perfectly messy, headphones situated over her ears. Her loose Red Bull shirt, though not loose enough to hide the delicious curve of her chest. Her incredibly short shorts, made even shorter as she shifts slightly in the chair, showing off the milky white insides of her thighs.
Oscar bites her lip, glancing at Lando as she adjusts in her seat, overly aware of the sudden heat in her cheeks. She turns up the volume as Max starts talking, her accented voice like music to Oscar’s ears.
“–taking for fucking ever to load today, sorry chat,” she says, stretching her arms up in the air and revealing a sliver of toned stomach. Oscar shifts again, licking her lips. “Of course we are playing F1 25 today, chat, what a stupid question. It is, of course, a race week.” Max smiles teasingly at the chat.
Oscar is startled out of her trance as a stewardess comes by, nearly throwing her phone across the plane. She stutters out what might be an answer, turning back to her phone quickly.
“The cats are doing good, chat. They are lounging in the li–” Max is cut off by the sound of a door opening. She turns sharply in her chair to greet the intruder, covering her mic as she does so. “Baby, I told you I was streaming,” her voice carries softly through Oscar’s airpod, deafened by her hand. A tall figure walks into frame, ducking down and revealing herself to the stream as Max rolls her eyes.
“Hi Max’s stream!” she says cheerfully, smirking at Max. Oscar brings a hand to her mouth to hide her smile, tracing the sharp lines and deep blue eyes of the guest with her gaze, drinking her in.
“I thought you had some runway thing to get ready for,” Max says pointedly, gazing up at the girl.
Oscar shifts once again, feeling a heat in her stomach at the sight of Max’s loving stare. Lando finally glances over, making confused eye contact with Oscar. Oscar clears her throat softly and gets up from her seat, making a beeline to the airplane bathroom.
She locks the door, quickly putting in her other airpod and turning up the sound even more.
“–decided to come visit the stream,” the guest says, kneeling easily on the floor next to Max.
Max rolls her eyes again. “For those of you new here, this is my girlfriend, George. She’s a model,” she says, dragging out the last word teasingly.
George only scoffs at this, leaning over to press a quick kiss to Max’s mouth. When she draws back, there’s a pretty blush coloring Max’s cheeks.
Oscar leans back against the sink, bringing a hand to her mouth to bite her nails. The heat in her stomach deepens at the sight of Max, pink cheeked and full lips parted in surprise.
“Let me answer a few questions while I’m here,” George says, turning back to the camera. “They’re all dying to get to know me.”
Max recovers quickly, leaning forwards to read the chat. “Um, a lot of people are asking your favorite F1 driver,” Max states, turning to George and fixing her with a questioning gaze.
George laughs lightly at this, saying, “Oscar Piastri of course. Us girls need to stick together. Besides, she’s quite fit, isn’t she?” George says, smiling coyly at Max.
Oscar stifles a groan into her palm and shoves her spare hand down her pants.
