Various One Shots

Layton x Abused! Reader

Yo yo yo! So, it's been awhile and I've had this bobbing around in my head for some time, so here I am. I went back and read my Clive/Future Luke x Reader and I... I really don't think it was my best work. So I guess I want to do better with this one. My premise is that Layton works with your (abusive) husband and only knows you because you're always by his side. And one day you show up outside of Gressenheller University in the rain, bloody and sad and angry. Happy(ish) reading!

TRIGGER WARNING: Abuse, slight gore. If you are sensitive to any of these things, please skip over this chapter. Also, if I messed up and failed to mention anything, please tell me, and I will amend this section.

3rd Person POV

They say opposites attract, and that was especially true of him and her. He was more forward and she was gentle. He was boisterous and friendly, while she seemed to have trouble looking people in the eye. He was loud and she was quiet. She couldn't hurt a fly and he...

Well he definitely hurt her.

Each direct hit shattered something in herself. She cried and screamed until she couldn't. She woke up and walked by his side, held by some invisible string of 'love.'  So she allowed herself to be dragged this way and that in a blurry city that she used to know by heart.

Then came tonight.

They came home together and she watched cautiously as he slowly hung up his coat, revealing a toned, skinny body underneath. Oddly, he looked like the perfect British man, in his thirties with thick black hair and blue eyes that might have been described as stunning to those that didn't know him the way she did.

He sighed, "I just don't understand." He says listlessly, "Why do you do this?" His eyes cut into her, and she swore she was drowning.

This wasn't new. This jealous man, lashing out at his wife. 

A cold sweat broke out all over her body and chilled her to the core, crippling fear crawling up her spine. She had no idea what he was talking about, "I... I'm... so, so sorry, but I'm... I don't know what you're-"

"Don't start with that bullshit." Fact. He saw whatever it was as fact, so she should, too, "You know damn well what I'm talking about. I saw you looking at him. I saw it."

"Who?" A daring question. It didn't matter who. All that mattered was that she never looked at any man but himself ever again.

Nonetheless, he answered, furious, "Hershel! Hershel-motherfucking-Layton."

Layton? You mean the man who was nicer than you have ever been? She bit back the comment, because she was scared and she wasn't quite sure how much worse it would get if she had said it, "I wasn't looking at him in any way, I promise you!" She pleaded instead, then took a step forward, and looked into his eyes, lied seamlessly, "I love only you." 

If she was given a chance, she thought she would leave, but in her heart of hearts, she wasn't sure. Still, she clung to something, and she didn't know what it was. Love? Could that be it? Some love lost amidst the muddled mess of abuse? She didn't know, but she called it hope. Hope that he would go back to the smooth-talking, playful, kind man she knew. Not this angry, messy void. 

A smirk played across his face, like he knew it all along, "I know you love me. And only me. After all, I  love you. Not everyone can do that." He shoves her, sends her back into the wall and a blunt pain runs through her spine, she stands her ground, "I mean, have you met you? You're annoying, stupid, not even all that pretty. I'm not sure why I chose you." He looks her up and down, "Maybe..." As if trying something new, he shoves her down, and send a kick to her stomach, "Yes, maybe, it's because you're so fun to mess with."