Sebastian Stan imagines!

Tired.

You laid out on the roof of the next scene for Civil War. You didn't want to sit through the whole "stunts and tricks" lecture again. They were probably looking for you but, who cares?

You'd had the worst headache, and had been throwing up all day. It was crazy how terrible you felt. No, you weren't pregnant. There's only one person who you'd allowed to do that, and he was busy with the movie as well.

It could've been stomach flu, or you could be dying. But probably not. You were most likely just tired. You'd been acting and doing your own stunts all year, which required conditioning, better dieting, and losing a lot of sleep.

"Y/N, are you okay?" You looked over to Sebastian, and watched as his expression grew soft. "Y/N?"

"Wanna go home." You murmured, closing your eyes. "You're going to get sunburned. Are you sure you're alright?"

"I'm tired." You murmured. Sebastian sighed and picked you up, the metal arm now off, and replaced with his soft skin. "Why didn't you say anything? I would've stayed home with you."

"That's the thing. Didn't wanna stay home."

"Y/N, if you're feeling so terrible you want lay on the roof of the set, then don't you think you should go home?"

"My mom thinks I'm pregnant." Sebastian froze. "A-are you?"

"No, I'm just tired. I need sleep."

"Then I'm taking you home."

"Thank you."