𝐋𝐨𝐧𝐝𝐨𝐧 𝐁𝐨𝐲 ↠ t.h. and p.p. imagines

A/N

Hi! This is the first part to my new series, starting over. I don’t know how many parts there will be in total. I’ll figure it out depending on how long each chapter. Anyway, I hope you enjoy!

Warnings: a small bit of abuse, an emotional y/n.

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You’d be lying if you said you and your boyfriend weren’t going through a tough time. Dylan was a sweet boy, but never seemed to care about your feelings. And then there were those times. Those unwanted make out sessions, and the scary moments when he’d hit you. You never wanted to run for help, the fear of him finding out and hurting you more was the only thing that stopped you.

“Hey y/n!” Dylan called, closing the door of your apartment behind him,“I’m home!”

“Hi Dylan.” you grumbled.

“What’s the matter baby?” Dylan asked, pulling off his jacket. You flinched at the awful nickname, “I know something that would cheer you up!” He ran over and kissed your lips. He tugged at your shirt trying to take it off, but you slapped him in the face.

“What the heck y/n! What did you do that for?” He asked, massaging his face.

“I’m trying to do my homework!” You yelled at him.

“That can wait,” He said, smirking. He picked you up and carried you over to the bed, plopping you down on it. He once again tried to take off your shirt but you kicked him in the face.”

“What is up with you today y/n?” He said grabbing your wrists.

“I have to do this assignment, it’s important. Plus we don’t need to be making out every second of our lives.” You grumbled.

He pulled you out of the bed and slammed you into the wall. He made his face level with yours, “Remember what happens when you don’t listen y/n?” He raised his hand and slapped you across the face. You winced with pain, tears spilling everywhere, “Don’t cry!” He yelled, slapping you again, “you’re being a baby!”

“I am not being a baby!” You yelled. He grabbed you by the throat, slightly squeezing on it. You started feeling a little light headed. Then the door of your apartment opened.

“Honey, I’m home!” Called the familiar voice of your father. He stood there waiting for an answer. He didn’t get one so he walked into your bedroom. There was your father. The one and only Tony Stark. Genius, billionaire, playboy, philanthropist and the one and only Iron Man.

The sight of you being strangled by your so called “boyfriend” caused your father to erupt. He ran towards Dylan and grabbed his neck, causing his grip to loosen. You fell to the floor gasping for breath.

“You touch my daughter one more time and you’ll be sorry.” He said, voice shaking. He set him down, still shaking, “go get your stuff.”

“W-w-what?” Dylan gaped.

“You two are through and I need you to leave.” He said firmly, looking at the kid with fiery eyes.

“Y/n. Tell him that we have to stay together! Please y/n!” He said desperately.

“Look,” said Tony, “I trusted you with my daughter and this is how you repay me?”

“Y/n, tell him please!” He begged once more.

“I’m done with your crap, okay? Just get out of my life!” You said sobbing over the pain of slaps. Your dad holds you tightly in his arms.

“Fine.” mumbled Dylan softly. He grabbed his backpack and made his way towards the door.

“Wait.” Called Tony, “Key. I need your apartment key.” Dylan reached into his pocket and pulled out the key to your apartment. “I’m going to need the spare key too.” Dylan reluctantly pulled out the spare key. He handed them both to your dad who spoke again, “I am coming over to your place in about an hour to get all of y/n’s stuff and to tell your mother what you have been doing. Now skedaddle!” He shouted. As soon as the door closed you began to sob of pain.

“Oh my god! Y/n, what did he do to you?” He asked noticing the marks on your face. You just sat there cowered on the floor sobbing into your knees, “why didn’t you tell me?” He asked. His voice was gentle as if he knew exactly what to do to calm you down.

“I-I-I-” you stop, sobbing again. Your dad nods, somehow understanding why, you didn’t even tell him what it was. He sits down beside you and holds you in his arms.

“Everything is going to be alright.” He says, “I promise,”