Mads Mikkelsen Characters x Reader OneShots

Blacked out pt. 2 (Martin x Reader)

Word count:4383 Words

!SMUT WARNING!

Potential triggers: Alcohol abuse

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All Martin could think about the next few days was y/n.
She looked very much unwell and he knew exactly what she's up to - seeing as he's been doing exactly the same thing in the past, just for other reasons.

Seeing her like this brought up the memories he desperately try to forget. The betrayal of his wife, the nasty divorce, all those lonely nights where his only comfort were countless bottles of beer and vodka.
He almost lost himself, and picturing y/n hunched over her laptop, surrounded by empty bottles and skipping meals made him feel awfully bad for her.

He told himself it was ridiculous - he had his own life which she was barely a part of, except for being his student for two years.
Yet he found himself checking his phone for any text messages or emails more than he wanted.
Was it protectiveness? Nostalgia? Or maybe it was the fact, that he saw himself in her.
As if she was a reflection - both of them severely damaged, both self-destructive, both secretly hoping someone would notice before it was too late.

He tried so hard to get her out of his head.
He'd pour himself a drink, open a book, put on some old jazz record, but nothing worked.
Every time he closed his eyes, he saw her.
Hollow. Drained. Running on fumes and cheap liquor. She looked like he had a few years ago.
And God, he didn't want to watch her fall the same way...

Y/n's eyes burned as she stared at the bright screen in front of her.
The words on the page didn't make sense anymore and the lines kept blurring into each other.

Her head was buzzing from the vodka sitting half-empty on her desk. She'd told herself she'd only have a few sips, just enough to relax. But now she was halfway through the bottle, and the apartment was spinning.

The essay doc blinked mockingly at her:.

"Psychological Warfare:
Propaganda and Civilian Morale in the Second World War."

She scoffed.
Psychological warfare - yeah, she was living it.

Her stomach growled, but she ignored it.
The samsas Martin had bought her still sat untouched in the fridge, she'd already forgotten about them.

For a long time, she just sat there. Staring at nothing, listening to the dull hum of her laptop fan and the faint city noise outside.

Then, without really thinking, she opened a new tab and typed Martin Hansen Aurehøj Gymnasium into the search bar. His faculty page came up immediately, showing an old picture of him.
Her eyes lingered on the line that said
Contact: martin.hansen@aurehøj-gym.dk

Her heart was pounding.

What was she doing? This was stupid.
But the thought of spending another night alone in that tiny suffocating apartment made her feel sick.

Before she could stop herself, she clicked write new message.
She took another drink, trying to steady her trembling hands before she started typing.

Hey Martin, sorry if this is like super random.

It's Y/n. From a few days ago. I found your email online and I just wanted to say thanks again for dinner the other day. It was really kind of you and it meant a lot to me.

Sorry, I don't even know why I'm writing this. I just don't really have anyone to talk to right now and I can't sleep. You don't have to answer. I just needed to type something.