Sebastian Stan Imagines

Sebastian Stan - Unlovable

Summary: Y/n has struggled with mental health her whole entire life, and she has believed that she is unlovable. Thankfully, the man of her dreams comes to save her life.

Request #5

•••

I usually don't go out to bars or dinners. I liked to stay at home and binge watch Marvel, shoving my face with popcorn and coffee. But today I realized how boring that life was, and how I wanted to get up and start something new.

I haven't showered in a week, so when I woke up this morning I took a long hot shower, drying off and stepping into some clothing, before treating myself to some breakfast at (Your/Favorite/Breakfast/Place). 

Later this afternoon (4ish), I put myself into a crop-top and some oversized jeans, running a comb through my hair and grabbing my bag, and heading out to the streets of New York. I walked to the nearest bar, on the phone with my therapist. She was glad that I was finally stepping out of my comfort zone, and hoped to see some improvement during our next session.

I've struggled with depression, anxiety, social anxiety, and complex PTSD since I was a little girl. My father was an alcoholic, and my mother was obsessed with heroin. Living in the 80s, it wasn't uncommon. I dropped out of high school when I was 16 and moved to New York, where I've been living for the past ten years.

I thought I couldn't be saved from all my diseases. Until I started watching Marvel, and I fell in love with a character (or actor for this sake) named Sebastian Stan. I fell in love with him, and I've watched every single interview I could find. He was my hero, and the main reason why I was still walking on this earth.

I entered the bar, the smell of liquor and cigarettes filling the air. I sat myself down at a table, ordering myself a drink, before watching the band here play. As I finished my drink, another one was placed on the table, and I looked up at the waitor with confusion.

"Er-...I didn't order this," I said.

"He did," The waiter said, and I turned to see Sebastian Stan sitting at the bar counter, a small smile on his face as he waved.

"Oh my fucking God," I whispered, and he nodded his head at me to come over, so I grabbed the drink and my bag and made my way to him. "You're Sebastian Stan."

"I am," He said, with a smile.

"What's with the drink?"

"You looked sad, so, I thought I'd lighten up the mood. Please, sit."

I sat down on the seat next to him, placing the drink down and my bag in my lap.

"What's your story?" Sebastian asked, raising his glass to his lips. "I don't know if you've seen my interview where I like to know people's stories. Their backstories."

"Trust me. You don't want to hear mine."

"Let me be the judge of that."

I stayed silent, twirling the drink in my hand. I exhaled a sigh, raising my finger to my lips as I started chewing the nail. An anxious/nervous habit I had.

"I've struggled with a lot of mental healths ever since I was little," I started, looking at the nail before chewing it again. "My father was an alcoholic, and my mother was more in love with heroin then she was with my father. They were both cheaters, but they never confronted each other about it. If I ever mentioned something I would be thrown across the room. I'm not even kidding. Picked up and thrown. I still have nightmares about it, actually. But it usually stops before I'm in the air."

I paused for a moment, looking down at my hands and taking off one of my rings to spin between my fingers, to keep myself from chewing my nail. It didn't work, and I went back to chewing.

"I dropped out of high school when I was 16," I continued. "Ran away to New York, found some help, a job that pays well, and I now just sort of...live I guess. I wouldn't be alive if it wasn't for you."

"Me?" Sebastian asked, and I nodded.

"Your character has gone through a lot too," I said. "Bucky Barnes? The Winter Soldier? I'm sure if he wasn't the Soldier anymore, he'd have a lot of trauma. As much as I hate to say it, it sort of comforts me that I'm not alone."

More silence. I looked up to meet his eyes, but I couldn't read him. it started to freak me out, and I bounced my leg up and down and my breath quickened.

"I'm so sorry," I blurted. "This is a lot-and you're famous. I'm sorry-I should go-"

"Woah, woah, stop," Sebastian said, grabbing onto my hand. "Where are you going?"

"I'm too much for anyone, Sebastian," I said, sadly. "Friendships and relationships have never worked out for me. Why should it be different for you?"

Sebastian stayed silent. He was thinking.

"Some people just don't understand what you go through," Sebastian said. "I understand, but I can't relate to any of your stories. I can help you. I could help you. What's your name?"

"Y/n. Y/n L/n."

"Well, Y/n L/n, what're you doing tomorrow night? Nevermind it, you're clearing your schedule because I'm taking you out to dinner tomorrow."

"Wha-you don't even know me," I said, a little stunned that the Sebastian Stan just told me he's taking me out to dinner.

"You don't have to fully open up to me yet," Sebastian said. "But I want to ask people about their stories because it allows them to open up. I want to help as many people as I can, but you're different. I want to know you. So...can I take you out tomorrow?"

I pulled a nail from my finger, before taking it and flicking it onto the floor.

"I guess so," I said, quietly. "You're not secretly a murderer are you?"

"Gods, I don't think so," Sebastian said. "Maybe I secretly am. You'll never know until you know."

My eyes widened, and his expression softened.

"Gee-...er, usually people laugh at that. I'm sorry, I didn't mean to scare you. Just trying to lighten up the mood," Sebastian said quickly.

"No, it's okay," I said. "I'm sorry, but this might be hard for you. I've been called unlovable because I have no sense of humor, and I take things way to seriously. Again, my relationships and friendships haven't lasted very long."

"Let's make a record, then," Sebastian said, his smile brightening. "Sound good, Y/n?"

"Yeah, that sounds alright," I said, nodding my head, reaching to chew my nail again but he stopped me.

"I'll also help you stop that habit," Sebastian said, nodding at my hand, referencing my chewing nail habit. "It's not good for you."

"Tell me something I don't know."

"Two plus two is four?"

"Hm, that's new. I guess I'll have to write that one down."

"You are one of a kind, Y/n L/n."

"And thank you for choosing me, Sebastian Stan."

•••

GODS I FEEL LIKE THIS ONE SUCKED! I'm so sorry to the person who requested this, maybe I'll do a Pt. 2 if I have time. Again, I'm writing like, 3 other books at once. So sorry guys!

Thanks for being patient and sticking to it! <3

-P.L. (CallMehBucky.)