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*◌ೃ࿔ ≡ 🏎️🌫️🫧 .・*。
lando norris x ex!reader
— — when a poorly timed night on the town leads to bruised knuckles, a cuppa, and hangovers.

・*。lando norris x ex!reader— — when a poorly timed night on the town leads to bruised knuckles, a cuppa, and hangovers

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YOU AND LANDO HAD ENDED NEARLY SIX MONTHS AGO.

So technically, you didn't have the grounds to be angry at him for moving on. It wasn't the cleanest breakup, and you have mustered the courage to admit to yourself that you were still not over it. You certainly didn't plan on dating soon, not the slightest interesting in opening up to another person the way you did for Lando.

You'd really believed he was the one. You'd dated for two years, breaking up just a few weeks before the official anniversary. You'd spent days afterwards rotting in your apartment, a complete mess. Weeks wrapped up in every piece of Lando's clothes he left behind, watching movies he showed you, listening to playlists he curated for you, watching his races, and anything else you could do to simulate him still being around. Now— you were feeling better. You left the apartment more, saw your friends, missing race Sunday's to sleep in. Life wasn't better, but it was moving along with or without you. So you were going to make the best of it.

Like tonight. Your friend was dating some DJ— one Lando introduced the both of you to, unfortunately— and he was doing a show locally that he'd gotten you VIP tickets for. Access to a practically impossible to get into club unless you were a A-Lister, open bar, the works. You'd be an idiot not to take advantage of it.

So, dressed in your shortest dress, most comfortable pair of heels, a nice layer of makeup making you feel more put together than you had in months. Already on a buzz from the getting-ready-pregame, you and your friend slinked into the club feeling utterly untouchable from the royal treatment you were getting.

The same treatment you used to get when you went anywhere with Lando Norris. But— that's not what tonight was about. You ordered another drink just to make sure lingering thoughts didn't ruin the night.

After all— he'd moved on. Plainly obvious by social media posts and the appearance of a new girl in the McLaren paddock last weekend, he'd moved on to a girl who looked nothing like you.

It hurt, a lot more than you hoped it would. But he was an adult, a grown man who can make his own decisions and kiss whomever he wants now. He was faithful during your relationship, that was all that should've mattered.

So were you here to watch a DJ, dance with some friends and some strangers, and get drunk enough not to think about the way Lando Norris was probably taking some girls dress off tonight and doing all his tricks that he used to do to you.

"Holy fuck."

You turned suddenly, the room swayed as you did, turning to your friend with a worried expression plastered across your face. "What? What? Are you okay?"

𝐅𝐎𝐑𝐌𝐔𝐋𝐀 𝟏 𝐈𝐌𝐀𝐆𝐈𝐍𝐄𝐒Where stories live. Discover now