you're coming with me || dom x reader

five

** everybody wants to rule the world (lorde's version

"dominic, please, i...i'm sorry, i won't,"

"you've done enough!" his voice bellows in his living room. the tears streaming down your face didn't stop you from reaching for him, begging to not be hurt. your heart practically pounds through your chest as you feel a force send you to the floor. your head throbs from pain as it taps the corner of the table on the way down. the panic inside you triples as your vision is blurry when black spots blind your main focal point.

you catch a faint glimpse of him standing over you.

"such a shame," his index finger glides over your cheek; you shiver from the touch of his familiar rings, "you were such a good girl too," that same hand clenches to a fist before everything goes black.

you should've just fucking listened...

earlier that day

you laugh as dominic tried prying your skunk story out of you. "c'mon y/n ! i won't tell a soul," he rest his hand on your knee as he leans back against the tree. there was that familiar rush again. this wasn't healthy, it'd be different if after you met him, he drove you home safely and you met up a few times after, but you had to get away.

"maybe another day. it's too soon for such a traumatic time to recall." you dramatically swoon.

"so what did you do before graduation?" he starts fiddling his thumbs, messing with the black paint on his fingernails.

"uhm i was just a high school student...i had a job, working at the local fitness center. i really just checked people in. uhm...i, used to play music a lot,"

"wait you play? what do you play?" his eyes practically burn into my soul.

"i used to be pretty big on guitar before i got into this car accident a couple years ago. it kind of slipped away; i dabble in piano sometimes when i'm sad. i can make anything sound like a ballad and it helps me find a way to cope with everything."

"an accident? i'm sorry about that...maybe you could play for me some time."

it was almost like talking to a different person.

"where could i even do that? you have no instruments in your home."

he snickers with a smirk, playing with the straw of his drink, "oh, but i do, love. behind those doors...is my sanctuary of sanity..." he trails off.

"i thought you just liked to-"

"kill people? oh, merely a hobby, babe. i happen to dabble in music myself."

"you don't say," you take a sip of your water. you hear a faint twinkling tune from the distance, it's the familiar nostalgia that sends you into overdrive: an ice cream truck. your face lights up for one of two reasons: he thinks you really want it, and you know you may just get away.

"would you like something, love?"

you nod eagerly, "preferably the spongebob face if they still do them!" he laughs at your antics, playfully nipping your cheek with his thumb and forefinger. your heart began banging against your chest, practically telling you "now. now. now." but you knew just a few more steps would be enough...

"ahh yes, yeah, thank you sir." dominic puts the change in his pockets, holding your ice cream in one hand as he licks his in the other. the whole walk back, he couldn't get you off his mind, he didn't know what it was you held over him, he couldn't let it get the best of him, but some times, he was unsure.

"y/n, love you're very lucky, they had the last one and i-" he looks up to see an empty spot where the two of you once were. his blood ran cold, his pulse revved through his veins, liquid dripped through slips of his fingers as the ice cream slowly melted through with every separating chip of the waffle cone that was once whole.

"fuuuuuuck!!!" if there were other people around, it would be like watch a reenactment of that mean girls movie scene with regina and her burn book. "fucking," he throws your ice cream to the ground, "bitch!" he kicks a dent into a trash can near by. his breath hitches in the back of his throat, he begins tapping his fingers to the side of his leg, thinking of the one place you would've gone to.

"fuck. fuckfuck. fuck fuck fuck!" you frantically search for the right wires under the steering wheel. you were still trying to catch your breath from running nearly two miles from the park to the square. you quickly begin to scavenge through the center console for a knife, knowing damn well at this point, he had to have one. you had about five more minutes to get out for sure before he was hot on your heels.

"ah! finally!" you find a switchblade at the bottom. you flip it open, cutting your finger in the process, but your adrenaline was pumping through your system way too fast for you to care. you cut the wires needed and fumbled to connect them. just as you were almost hopeless, the car began to rumble, as if it was about to start. "ah! oh my god! yes! yes!" you kept trying, "holy fuck. my dad would roll in his grave right now if he-"

tap. tap.

no

no no no no no

tears form in the bed of your eyelids, there was no need to look to see who was at the window, but you were going to have to at some point. the face you were destined to see was almost like looking at the devil himself...this one was fucking furious.

"god..."

"no love, s'just me," you hear in a muffled tone through the window before he opens the door, you see him discreetly holding another switchblade. he leans in, "come on love," he grabs your arm sternly, causing your blood to pump wherever his fingers were forcefully planted, your heart drops to your toes as you feel a paper thin strip pressed aggressively to your back. he guides you swiftly to the other side of the car before throwing you in, "now i have to fix this fookin' mess."

a cold rush covers your body, the following feeling of pressure weighs you down. you can hear that familiar faint voice, but you can't quite pin what he's saying. you hear him repeat the phrase a few more times.

"ahh...wh, wha-"

"i said wake the fook up!" the sound of metal on concrete forces you to jolt from the chair, only to realize you're bound to it...once again.

a small, "fuck," escapes your mouth. he turns in almost record time to face you. gripping your chin aggressively with his thumb and forefinger, "what the fuck did you just say?"

you don't want to cry, you really don't. you wanna lock him out senseless, "fuuucckk!!" you scream it over and over until your throat becomes numb.

"fucking fuck! fucking hell! fuck this! fuck this! fuck you!"

your face goes numb as your stunned twice with his back hand accompanied by those goddamn rings. it nearly takes your breath away, "and fuck your stupid rings."

"hahahaha" his laughter throws you off. "oh my fuck you're so fookin' difficult! why couldn't you just listen," he punches the table, "why," he inches closer to your face, his hot breath coaxed your cheek, "why couldn't you just be a good girl?" you could've sworn his voice broke a bit.

"it can't be like this," you say, letting your cries out. "you can't keep me for an entire fucking year! you can't force me to love you! not like this!"

"i'm trying to be fookin' normal for you but you can't make it so goddamn difficult if you run away!"

there's a brief set of silence between the two of you. he's right. if you can't cooperate, you won't make it.

"i'm sorry, dom. i promise, what happened today, won't happen again."

"well i'm glad," he smiles to himself, which made you give a small one in return even as water, blood, sweat, and tears dripped down your face, "but i'm afraid i'll have to make it a little bit more clear to you." he reaches for something on the table.

"dom, dom no..dom please don't hurt me," you beg, it's almost like he can't even fucking hear you.

he presses the cold metal to your cheek. "m'sorry princess, but you've got to learn."