A/N: First Lucci fanfiction! Could be OOC.

Trigger Warnings: Domestic and Sexual Violence

Disclaimer: I own nothing.

"Don't look at me like that!" Lucci hissed in your ear, dragging you by the arm, ignoring the stares that followed the two of you.

"Like what?"

"You know what. You make me ashamed of you. I don't know why I stay with you"

With that, his fingers transformed into claws and dug into your arm. The blood spilled down your arm and soaked through your shirt sleeve.

Once he had kicked you through the front door to the house you shared and locked the door, you bolt up to the bedroom and lock the door behind you.

You sigh and rest your back against the door. Hattori flew over to you and rested on your shoulder.

Over an hour later and you decided to look for Lucci. You found him sitting in the living room in the dark. A shiver ran down your spine. His eyes were glowing.

Frozen to the spot, you could only stare as Lucci gets up and moves towards you.
You screeched as he grabbed hold of your hair and pulled hard.

"The fuck, Lucci?"

A punch to the face, breaking your nose. Another punch, splitting your lip. This has been going on for some time. You were used to it. You wanted to leave, but something in you wouldn't let him go.

You didn't know how long he was beating on you, but when he stopped, you couldn't feel anything. You were dead inside and he knew it.

You close your eyes, thinking this was over, he would leave you alone on the floor to bleed.

Then you could hear the curtains being drawn.

Little late to not want the neighbours seeing what you do, huh?, you thought bitterly as he approached you again, removing his belt.

You close your eyes as Lucci rips your skirt and tears your underwear. You've almost succeeded in attempting to leave your current situation when a slap knocks you back into reality.

He forces himself inside you. Not giving a damn to wherever you want it or not, he moves on top of you, hitting and choking you with his belt the entire time.

When he's finished, he moves off of you and walks away. As he slams the door shut, you squeeze your eyes shut, ignoring the sting of tears on your face.

He was poison. Fresh poison in your veins.

The worst part is that you couldn't leave. Not alive, anyway.