Scarlett Johansson x Female Reader Imagines

sick day

Written in Scarlett's POV

A/N: Yay I finally have a fluffy story idea

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After filming for a whole day, I can't wait to get back home and jump into the arms of y/n. Even though we live together and see each other every day, I still miss her at work like we have not met each other for several decades. What can I say? I'm madly in love with her.

I'm kind of disappointed when I don't see any text or receive any call from her. Maybe she is still busy with her work. She might be working overtime today. Anyway, maybe I can surprise her today. The corners of my mouth twist up involuntarily as the idea comes up in my mind. Anticipation is building up as I'm getting closer and closer back to our home.

Nothing surprises me more than her car is at the same spot before I left this morning. If she has gone home from work, why didn't she text me like she used to? So the simple act has reduced into nothingness after two months of living under the same roof now? What happened to that romantic y/n who cares about the little detail in daily lives?

"Honey, I'm home!" I notify her after stepping into the house and locking the front door. Weirdly, no response coming from any corner of the house, not to mention that it is eerily quiet.

"Babe?" I ask, trying to get her attention and finding out where she is right now. Yet, still no reply or any voice.

My heart drops. Is she kidnapped? When the thought crosses my mind, I don't know why but my first instinct is to rush to our bedroom. Luckily, I find y/n on the bed. But that's not a great sign. A few crumpled-up tissue papers are lying on the nightstand by her side. She sprawls out on the bed, sleeping on her stomach. Her face is tilted to the side, displaying a suffering expression like she was experiencing torture. Looking at her in agony doesn't relieve my anxiety at all but breaks my heart further.

I walk to her bedside and get down to her eye level so I can get a good look at her. I stroke her messy hair back and ask, "what happened, baby girl? Are you OK?"

"Scarlett?" She half-opens her eyes and says weakly, "I think I caught a cold."

I put my hand on her forehead. She is only tepid, slightly hotter than normal — gladly, not scorching like what I have mentally prepared myself. I sigh, "Why didn't you call me?"

"You're working," she pauses and looks at me, doe-eyed, "I don't want you to worry 'bout me."

She smiles — forced, yet it melts my heart; feeble, but it powers up my flat battery after a long day. I try to return a smile too but, I can't. Her smile crushes me inside. Sometimes, she is too independent to be taken care of. People call it being mature — and yes, she is always the bigger person in this relationship — but does she know that she doesn't have to be strong and tough in front of me?

I take her hand into mine to try to give her some warmth. My face rests on our hands while she smiles with her nose scrunched up. Her scrunched-nose smile is my weakness. She looks like a little bunny. Adorable. I lean in to try to kiss her but, her palm stops me midway. She protests, "Hey, I'm sick. You don't wanna get sick too, do you?"

I don't care and kiss her warm cheek. She giggles upon my kiss, trying to hide her face as my kiss tickles her. I know she will like it even though she says otherwise. To make her more comfortable, I pull the blanket over her and tuck her underneath it. I ask with concern, "Be honest with me, when did you start feeling unwell?"

She hesitates for a while and finally says, "this morning after waking up."

"Why didn't you tell me during breakfast?"

"I thought I could get with it. Well, turns out I can't. I can barely sit up straight, or else I think I'm gonna throw up. My head is still pounding like somebody is hammering my temple."

"Did you eat anything?" I ask.

"After texting my boss for sick leave, I went straight back to sleep until you woke me up," she says, "I don't think I can eat anything today. Kinda nauseous."

"That's why you look so pale now," I caress her face, "let me take care of my severely ill baby to make up for my absence this whole day. Now, listen to me, take a good rest before I come back, OK?"

"Yes, mom," she groans. I kiss her cheek one last time before heading downstairs to prepare everything that can make her more comfortable.

I enter the room with a steaming cup of tea and a full water bottle in each hand. "Here, your favorite."

"Is it green tea?" She raises her head and asks.

"Yes, it is," I reply. After helping y/n sit up, I hand her the tea, which she happily accepts, and tells her, "And here's your water. You MUST stay hydrated and drink LOTS of water. I'll help you with that, Ms. Never-Taking-Care-of-Yourself."

"Fine," she rolls her eyes and sips her tea, "hmmm, 'tis good. Love your way of brewing it."

"'Course you will," I boop her nose and pinch her face, "I'll prepare something for your little head."

I came back again with a hot towel and put it on her forehead. She hums as the hot compress relieves her flu headache.

As I get into my side of the bed, she immediately snuggles closer to my body. Feeling light tugs on my pajamas, I immediately take her into my arms. I kiss her forehead gently, wishing her goodnight but not letting go of her.

"Scarlett," y/n calls my name lightly, "I love you."

I am not expecting that three words to slip out of her mouth when she is a mess. I hold her tighter and murmur, "I love you too."

I love my baby so damn much.