Tom Holland Imagines

Tragedy Part 1

~A/n, This Imagine was written by the AMAZING, the INCREDIBLE, the SPECTACULAR, @purple_raspberry123!!! All cred goes to her and please give her a follow! Her books are SOOO good!xx~

You were barely awake, the morning sunlight streaming through your window just enough to keep you from falling asleep all over again. You felt a swoosh of fabric across your legs and then brutally cold air hit your exposed shoulder and legs. Moaning, you rolled over to fight for the blanket. Tom, fast asleep, didn't notice. Too tired to fight, you simply snuggled closer and buried your face in his hair. The bed shifted and Tom rolled over to face you, bringing the blanket with him. He threw it over you and wrapped his arms around your waist, pulling you closer. He mumbled something and leaned his forehead against yours. His eyes were still shut, but yours weren't. You smiled; his bedhead was beyond adorable. You began to drift back to sleep, but Tom wasn't about to let that happen. You felt his lips brush yours, then kiss your cheek, then your neck. You giggled, but refused to open your eyes. There was a whimper, like a hurt puppy. You huffed, then opened one eye. Tom was wide awake now, grinning like a small child. He ran one hand through your long hair, which gave you pleasant shivers.

"Morning gorgeous." He whispered.

"You have morning breath." You crinkled up your face in mock disgust.

"Hey!" You laughed at his exclamation.

"I'm kidding, doofus." You leaned forward and kissed the tip of his nose. Tom blushed hard. "Oh come now, we've been married for only a week and you're still acting as if you're madly in love with me." You half-closed one eye.

"Oh it's not acting, Princess." He softly kissed you. Now it was your turn to blush.

"How would I know, acting is your literal job." You winked, causing another round of pink to tint Tom's cheeks. "Alright, I gotta get up for work." You sighed as you slowly sat up in bed. Tom pouted, begging you to lay back down. "Don't give me those puppy eyes! Some of us aren't high-paid actors that can arrive whenever they want to work!" You laughed and slid off the mattress.

"With my salary, you don't even have to work, babe. Why do you keep working?"

"Because I enjoy what I do, goof ball. I'm going to go get dressed now. Buh bye." You gave him one last sly smile before shutting the bathroom door. Tom leaned back against the headboard of the bed, a goofy grin on his face. She's just so perfect... he thought. Deciding he too should get to work, he began to get dressed, taking off his pajamas and pulling on pants; he was reaching for a shirt when you walked out. You squeaked, seeing Tom's abs and biceps. He threw his head back and laughed.

"Oh come now, we've been married for only a week and yet you still can't handle the sight of me." He flexed, grinning mockingly. You couldn't help but giggle.

"Sorry, sometimes I forget just who exactly I'm married to." You kissed Tom on the cheek and walked to the kitchen, fastening your long, dark hair into a stylish messy bun. Tom followed while pulling on his shirt. He slid onto one of the bar stools at the island in your kitchen and watched you bustle around the kitchen. You hummed to yourself as you mixed up batter for mini waffles and tapped your foot impatiently as the coffee slowly dripped from the pot.

Finally, you poured your coffee, finished the waffles, grabbed your purse and began to hurry out the door. You turned to say bye to Tom when you noticed a strange expression on his face.

"Hey, you ok?" You paused, now worried. Tom blinked several times, then shook his head. He smiled at you, but all his acting talent couldn't hide the hint of fear in his eyes from you.

"Yeah, I just got a weird feeling. Be safe out there, ok babe? Please?" He had risen from his seat and was now standing in front of you, hands cupped around your cheeks.

"Y-Yes, of course I will." You nodded, unsure of what was happening. Tom nodded back, then kissed you delicately on the lips. You smiled weakly, then hurried out to your car. Tom waved at you, then shut the door. With that, you drove off to work and he began to pack up for the short flight to New York for the day.

Hours later, Tom sat in an office high up in a skyscraper. His feet on the table, he tapped his fingers on the armrest of the chair absentmindedly. His contractor was trying to work out a deal for an upcoming Marvel movie, but his mind was still on you, Y/n. He rubbed the wedding band on his left ring finger, grinning like an idiot. He could have never imagined himself married, but when he had seen Y/n he knew couldn't have it any other way. He had to ask her as soon as socially acceptable, and now, a week into their marriage, he felt happier than ever before.

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You were driving along in London, heading to pick up coffee and lunch for your coworkers. So many things were running through your mind, and texts and phone calls constantly were coming from your phone. There was a big project your company was working on, and unfortunately you were the executive manager for it all. Cars in the streets were zipping around you, honking and driving just about as fast as their tiny European car tires could go. In all the business, a semi-truck was barreling its way down the street, unfortunately in your blind spot. You stopped at the stop sign, desperately trying to get a handle on the constant messages. You saw a car pass in front of you, and hurriedly pulled out to try and secure a spot on the road. A car swerved around you, the driver honking the horn angrily. You waved apologetically and glanced back down at your phone, huffing at the dozen new messages. You heard a loud pop behind you and your head snapped up.

In your rearview mirror, you saw the imminent danger crashing towards you. The semi-truck had blown a tire and lost all control. There was a desperate horn and you screamed, trying to swerve out of the way.

It was too late.

There was a horrific jolting feeling, and you felt your car lift from the road, and spin in mid-air. You saw the ground rushing up at you, and squinted your eyes shut.

Then, complete blackness.

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Tom felt his phone buzz in his pocket. Pulling it out, he grinned at the sight of Y/n's profile pic and number. Pressing the talk button, he answered cheerfully.

"Hey babe!"

"I'm sorry sir, is this Thomas Holland?" It was a male's voice. Tom jolted up in his chair, a cold sweat drenching him.

"Yes, who is this?"

"I'm Officer Bell. Are you Y/n Holland's husband?"

"Yes!" Tom's voice was sharp.

"Sir, there was an accident and—" Tom's breath hitched in his throat. The phone fell to the floor and shattered. He couldn't breathe. No, no, NO! His brain screamed over and over. He pleaded with anyone that could hear him for her to be alive. His contractor walked in and stopped short at the sight of Tom. He was deathly pale and trembling.

"Are you alright, Mr. Holland? Mr. Holl—Mr. Holland!" The contractor called after the young man as he dashed out of the office, running at a breakneck speed. He saw the shattered phone on the ground and inhaled sharply. The contractor knew that few things caused such strong emotion in Tom, but the shattered phone meant only one thing... something had happened to Y/n.