Second Person (The Diary of Addison Montgomery)

Second Person, Ten

Content Warning:

This Chapter is rated E, I've upped the ratings on this one for this.

This Chapter is emotionally and physically explicit.

And I don't want to spoiler it, but I will, for your sake.

(Don't read the next line if you want a surprise, just read on past it.)

Content warning: Straight-People Sex. Sort of. Umm. Just read it if you want to understand.

Content warning: Mild self-harm. More the idea of it, really. But you are warned all the same.

Thought that this one needed this specific note though, in case it's something that upsets you.

This Chapter is in honor of LordOfLezzies and AddisonAddek who both implicitly provided ideas for this one.

bobbiejelly

Second Person, Ten

When Mark Sloan eventually finds you, you're reading old entries in your diary and you're not aware he's there.

You have your reading glasses on and you're still squinting at your penmanship because you're eyesight's so fucked up at almost forty.

He's giving you that shit-eating grin now- like he's read the dirty from your eyes. You realize it's from your eyes and not the pages because he says that when you finally see him.

He asks who you are writing for, and you say that it's not his business.

But then he asks if it's for him, and you say no, and then you wish you'd said 'yes' because at least then he'd lay off you.

But you didn't and you didn't say who it was for. But he can tell that it's a woman- because he's seen you, like this, before.

He's seen you when you're horny, and the last time you were in front of them was with all of his lesbian dirty talks.

And he's giving you the same look he gave you the last time. And he's giving you the same speech he gave you the last time. And it worked on you then- and it worked on you, this time, again.

He said you could picture whoever you wanted. He said you could talk about anyone. He said you could call out another name and he wouldn't care, or ask, or judge you.

And then you eventually just give in and let him kiss you because you just want to feel some love. Even if it's not the love you want, you crave it all the same.

So you let him keep going until he goes to take his pants off. And then you tell him not to. And he understands and he doesn't take them off at all.

And then he runs his hands down your waist and you let him into your scrubs. And you let him under your panties.

And you pretend that it's not him, that it's not a man who has their hand down your pants.

You pretend it's her-

You pretend it's Meredith Grey, instead, who's fingering at your insides.

And he pretends it's you.

Except a 'you' that wants him back.

A 'you' that isn't gay.

So, not really 'you', at all.

You know you're using him; he's using you, too, and maybe almost just as much. But you're using him, much more than he's using you. Your hand is not in his pants, after all.