I'd Be Happy To Die In My Sleep

I'd be happy to die in my sleep 😌

Imagine Severus reading to you before bed as you snuggle into his chest, listening to his heart beat and the low whisper of his voice...

CHAPTER 10 (LAST CHAPTER)

Wattpad

Always (Severus Snape x Reader)

In a post-Voldemort world, Y/N (you) is the newly appointed professor of Transfiguration at Hogwarts following Professo...

Lowkey not proud of this aha :"[

Will write another fic soon tho :3 currently writing one and taking my sweet time making it better.

For now enjoy this ^^ (might rewrite it once I find time hehehe)

I can imagine Tonks just hugging Remus's wolf form to sleep 🤧 and that makes me cry

this is remadora to me

I think he'll either laugh at it or be TOTALLY freaked out and literally hiding behind anyone XD. Depends on how you see him... But I see him as someone who would flinch every now and then... But once his home alone he'd have the whole set of holy stuff in hand as he sleeps XD

Horror Stories

This is a general weird thought that poped in my head and you the snape lovers could either ignore this or answer it. This is so random please don't judge but I have to know

How do you think Severus reacts to horror stories? Or anything spooky.

Ack... So uhm I suddenly had Bell's Palsy... I know that facial thing where it just goes down aha... And my usual smile being gone is just a wreck for me :"3... Used to smile a lot, now I just do this awkward :] cuz... My face drooping and all...

Ah request... Maybe a Bell's Palsy reader to gain me self some confidence? With Remus please... I mean Sirius is ok too but I think I'll connect better with Remus because he can relate with his face scar (if it makes you feel better why I said that... I have this long scar on my forehead too... Heh... Yeah)

It's alright if you won't as well. Bell's Palsy is a tricky one :"3

Thank you so much for this, and I really hope it improves soon.

Pairings: Remus Lupin x reader Summary: After being diagnosed with Bell's Palsy, Remus attempts to make you feel better. Warnings: Self-worth issues

You sit on the edge of your bed, your gaze drawn to the small mirror on your dresser. Your fingers trace the line of your jaw, stopping at the corner of your mouth where your smile used to be. Now it's a half-formed thing, one side of your face refusing to respond while the other moves with ease.

It's called Bell's Palsy, the healer had said, assuring you that it was temporary. But each day feels longer than the last as you wait for the normalcy that once was. You swallow hard, forcing down the lump that threatens to choke you, and try again. "Smile," you whisper to your reflection, but your lips barely twitch.

The sound of movement downstairs distracts you for a moment. Remus is there, probably preparing a cup of tea like he always does when he knows something is wrong. You can almost hear the soft clink of china against the kitchen counter, the low whistle of the kettle reaching a boil. It's comforting in its familiarity, yet it only serves to remind you of how different you are now.

Your fingers leave your face, dropping into your lap as you continue to stare at the mirror. The girl who looks back at you is a stranger, her features twisted into an expression you don't recognise. You want to reach out, to shake her until she wakes up from this nightmare, but you know it won't change anything.

Silence hangs heavy in the air, broken only by the distant sounds of the castle settling into night. You're so lost in thought that you don't even hear him enter. It's the faint knock at the door, the soft call of your name that finally draws your attention away from the window and back to the room.

"May I come in?" Remus's voice is gentle, almost hesitant.

For a moment, you don't respond, still caught in the web of your thoughts. But the door creaks open just slightly, revealing Remus standing there with a steaming mug in his hands. He doesn't wait for your answer, but steps inside, closing the distance between you with quiet certainty.

His eyes, always so full of understanding, take in your form huddled on the bed. They flicker with concern, tracing over the lines of fatigue etched onto your face. But he doesn't speak immediately, choosing instead to set the mug down on the bedside table and seat himself next to you. The silence stretches out, a comfortable blanket wrapping around the both of you.

"Still me," you whisper, voice barely there as you force the words past the tightness in your throat. "But it doesn't feel like me."

Remus only nods, his gaze never leaving your face. He waits, patient and understanding, for you to find the strength to continue.

"I can't even smile right anymore," you add, a hint of bitterness seeping into your tone. "How am I supposed to feel like myself when I look like this?"

Instead of answering, Remus reaches out, his fingers brushing against your cheek—the one that no longer lifts with the curve of a smile. His touch is feather-light, yet it anchors you, drawing a shuddering breath from your lungs. You lean into him, seeking the warmth that radiates from his skin.

"You're still you," he murmurs, a note of conviction underlining his soft-spoken words. "This doesn't change that."

Your head shakes almost imperceptibly, a denial born more from feeling than thought. "But it feels like it has. I look... different."

A pause lingers between you, filled only with the quiet crackle of the dying fire and the distant murmur of the castle settling into night. Then Remus's hand drops away, leaving a cool absence where warmth once reassured. His gaze turns inward, brows furrowing as though wrestling with memories reluctant to surface.

"You know," he begins, his voice a hushed confession in the dimly lit room, "I've felt that way before."

You blink up at him, confusion momentarily displacing your despair. The lines of his face, usually so open and readable, seem etched with a new depth of understanding, one carved from personal torment rather than empathy alone. Slowly, his fingers rise to trace the jagged scar marring his cheek, a rough-hewn testament to a transformation far more brutal than the one you now face.

"After I received this..." His touch lingers on the twisted skin, a silent acknowledgment of past pains. "I believed the same—that I no longer resembled myself. That I was... marred."

His words cause a sympathetic twinge in your chest, and without thinking, you place your hand over his on the scar. Remus's fingers twitch beneath yours, but he doesn't pull away. Instead, he smiles—a small, sad thing that speaks of shared understanding rather than mirth.

"I know what it's like to see something in the mirror that feels alien," he says, his voice barely more than a whisper. "But I learned something important. What truly matters, what defines us, isn't our faces. Not really."

Tears well up unbidden, spilling over onto your cheeks, but there's a warmth spreading through your chest that wasn't there before. Remus leans in, his forehead coming to rest against yours. His breath is warm, his presence grounding, and for a moment, the world outside falls away.

"I see you," he murmurs, voice barely above a whisper, as though the words are a secret meant only for you. "And I love every part of you, whether you can smile or not."

His declaration should be impossible to believe, yet something in his tone, in the sincerity of his gaze, compels you to trust him. And for the first time since this nightmare began, you let yourself accept the truth in his words. It's not about the way your smile may have changed or how your face feels different under your own touch—it's about being seen, truly seen, by someone who cares.

You attempt a small smile then, lopsided and unsure, but Remus's eyes light up as if you've just presented him with the sun. It's a small victory, one that doesn't erase the pain nor the uncertainty, but it's a start—a glimmer of hope in the darkness.

"See?" His voice is soft, the gentlest caress. "Still perfect."

Your heartbeat quickens as he leans in, his lips hovering just above yours. You want to respond, to meet him halfway, but your face doesn't cooperate quite the way you'd like. Remus doesn't rush you, though. He lingers there, giving you time to adjust, his breath warm against your skin.

With a small push of your will, you manage to close the distance. It's different—more difficult, awkward and not perfectly aligned—but it's soft and slow, filled with love. His lips meet yours in a way that's gentle, accommodating the quirks of this new reality. Despite the challenges, the kiss feels perfect in its own way. When you pull back, Remus's smile is the brightest thing you've seen in days.

"I love you," he whispers, his thumb lightly brushing your cheek once more. "Just as you are."

And for the first time since everything changed, you believe him.

I was so inlove with this I had to repost it XD WE NEED MORE OF SUB SEV DFHSLFJSLFND

The way I RAN to the ask button after reading the other requests 😭🙏🏽 this is gonna be a wild 18+ request if you are okay with it. Snape x fem reader who’s also a professor at Hogwarts trying cockwarming for the first time, snape has no idea what it is so the reader sits on his lap and shows him while he’s trying to mark assignments late at night in his classroom to see how long he lasts 🥴🤭

that is disgus-GIVE IT TO ME NOW

minors dni >:(

warnings: explicit smut, kinda sub snape, kinda dom reader, light begging

~

Shadows danced across the stone walls of Snapes office, the candlelight casting a faint, warm glow upon the room. Sitting in an arm chair in the corner of the room, you looked up from your grading to look at Severus.

Your partner had the odd tendency to get as close to the paper as humanly possible while grading. As if the students calling him a "dungeon bat" wasn't accurate enough, it didn't help that the man could not see what was right below his eyes for the life of him. No matter how often you urged him to get reading glasses, he would always respond with a scoff.

And so now, you watched, half amused, half annoyed, at the sight of Severus leaning over his papers, quill in hand, eyes inches from the parchment, brows furrowed.

"Severus." You said, putting down your own grading on the coffee table beside you.

He glanced up only for a second before continuing to focus on his work, responding with a questioning grunt.

"You're gonna give yourself a headache."

Severus ignored you, his only response the gentle scratching of his quill upon the parchment.

Sighing, you stood up from the chair and walked over to his desk. Resting your chin on his shoulder, you peered down at the papers he was grading.

In the candle light, you could make out his thin, cramped handwriting written in the blank space between students, his feedback blunt and harsh.

"Severus you can't call an eleven year old a..." you squinted, "dim-witted imbecile."

Severus smirked, setting the quill down and turning his head to the right to look at you.

"If you had to read these assignments, you would call them the same thing." He said.

You couldn't help the small laugh that escaped your lips. You silenced it by placing small, playful kisses on his neck just below his jaw, relishing in the feeling of him relaxing under your touch.

"Take a break, love." You whispered in between kisses, "We've been grading all night."

Severus sighed, tapping his quill against the desk. "I'm almost done, I have two left."

Your arms wrapped themselves around his shoulders, head still buried in his neck. "Maybe I could help you, focus..." You murmered.

You didn't need to see his face to know his brow was raised. The sound of his quill tapping against the desk stopped, replaced by an anticipatory silence.

His rough hand reached up to touch your cheek, callosed fingers softly tracing your skin. "I can't leave this chair."

An idea weaved itself through the silence and into your mind. You hummed slightly, the sound muffled in his neck.

"You won't have to." You murmered in between kisses before pulling away to look at him.

"Severus... Do you want to.. try something?" You asked.

He looked at you, brow still raised. "Go on." He said, lowly.

"What if.. I sit on your lap while you grade?"

Severus smirked. "Because that worked so well for you last time?"

You playfully hit his chest, moving now so that you were infront of him, between him and the desk. "Not like that! I mean in a different way."

His dark eyes flicked between yours. "Show me."

Your hands felt their way down his chest to his trousers, unbuttoning them, unzipping. You paused, looking up at him. His facial expression was blank, but the slight tint of his cheeks and subtle depth of the rise and fall of his chest showed his anticipation.

You pulled your hands away, only to reach up under your dress and pull your underwear down, tossing it to the floor beside his chair. Severus' gaze flicked to it, before looking back up at you, pupils dilating.

Straddling him, your hands rested on his thighs, eyes looking into his. "May I?"

His gaze softened, but his breathing quickened as he nodded, hands reaching up to grip your waists as you pulled him out and positoned yourself on top of him. After a teasingly long second, you sank down slowly, hissing as you took in his length, until your thighs rested comfortably on his.

Severus exhaled shakily, looking down at the sight of your hips flush together, his grip on your hips tightening slightly. Through gritted teeth he spoke at last: "I hardly see how this is going to help me focus."

You leaned in, bringing your lips to his ear and biting gently. "Go back to grading." You whispered.

His caressing of your hips and thighs stopped, hands paused. "Keep grading? With you on me like... this?"

You bit his ear again, lips trailing down his jaw and neck, placing tender, gentle kisses. "Keep grading."

Severus hesitated for a moment, before pulling a hand away from your waist and reaching for the quill again. A hiss escaped his lips at the movement, the slightest sensation echoing through him as he adjusted the paper before him.

"Darling..." He murmered, his voice low. "Are you...."

Your right hand trailed up his back, fingers weaving between strands of his black hair, pulling his head in closer. "I'm not moving until you're finished grading."

An almost shaky exhale left his lips, his grip on your waist tightening as you heard the faint sound of quill on paper resume.

His breathing was deep, but shaky as he wrote, the sound quite slower than it was minutes ago.

"That's it." You murmered in between kisses, fingers now gently pulling his hair as you grinded down slightly, in one simple, teasing movement. "Keep going, love."

Severus hissed, his left hand gripping your hip tighter as his other hand began to write faster, scribbling his notes down with an increased motivation.

Inhaling, you allowed your fingers to continue playing with his hair as you took in his herbal, smokey scent.

For another minute there was only the sound of his laboured breathing and desperate writing, accompanied by the soft murmers and sounds of your kissing on his neck.

His breathing was getting increasingly louder, his grip on your hip tighter.

"Almost done, my love?" You whispered, placing another kiss on the sweet spot just below his ear. In another teasing movement, you rose slightly, only to sink back down on him and cease your movements once again, a soft moan leaving your mouth at the temporary satisfaction.

Severus inhaled sharply, his fingers digging into your waist almost painfully. "Y/N." He hissed.

Continuing to leave kisses on his neck, you asked: "What?"

The sound that left his lips was more or less a groan as his free hand flipped the roll of parchment and the sound of quill on paper filled the tiny office once again.

"Move.." He murmered quietly, shyly. "Please."

Your fingers once again tugged gently on his hair, eliciting a small, sharp inhale from him. "Not until you finish grading."

He sighed through gritted teeth as tried his hardest to focus his attention back on the task at hand. But it was difficult to focus on anything else, with the feeling of you warm around him, your hands in his hair, mouth on his neck.... If only you would just.... move...

"However..." You whispered. "I would find it quite entertaining to keep you like this, even after you finish your grading..."

He grit his teeth.

"I wonder how long you'd last... How long it would take before you beg for me to move.. Or to let you fuck me properly.."

He stayed inhaled shakily, hand gripping you somehow even tighter as he continued to grade. "You wouldn't..." He murmered, the sound strained.

You responded immediately, your steady voice almost cutting him off: "Oh, but I would."

He twitched inside you, eliciting a small, breathy laugh from your lips. He only clenched his jaw in response, his hands trembling slightly as he marked with an increased desperation, quill working furiously over the paper.

After what felt like an agonizing eternity, he dropped the quill, both hands now on your waist, pulling you away from his neck so he could look you in the eyes.

The look in his eyes was something you'd never seen before. In the dim candlelight, his darkened gaze was intense, pupils completely dialeted, eyes flicking between yours in a silent plea. His hands gripped your waist, almost trembling.

"It's done." He said lowly.

"Is it?" You asked, moving slightly to look behind you at the now single stack of parchments and the quill lazily abandoned on the table. Black ink was spilling from the quill onto the wood of his desk. You turned back to face him, relishing in the clench of his jaw at the friction of your slightest movements.

His black hair hung across the soft flush of his cheeks as his lips parted, eyes into yours. "Please..." He murmered, the sound so low you could barely hear it.

You smirked, pulling off of him slightly only to sink back down at an agonizingly slow pace. He groaned, dark eyes fluttering shut as his hips involuntarily jerked up to greet yours.

"Please what?" You said.

His eyes remained close, cheeks flushing deeper as his voice came out barely a whisper. "Please... Darling.. Move..."

You weren't sure if it was the desperate look on his face, or your own need growing within you, but you gave in without asking him to beg any longer. Your hands resting themselves on his shoulders as you began to rise and sink back down on him, riding him slowly at first.

He let his head fall back against the chair, a soft moan escaping his mouth as his lips parted. "Yes..." He groaned. "Like that... Please..."

You moaned softly at the feeling of him, moving slowly but deliberately. Your hands tightened their grip on his shoulders as you watched every micro expression on his pleasure striken face, the slight twitch of his mouth, the furrow of his brow... All arousing you even more. Knowing that you were the one who made him feel this way.... That he had begged for you... That he needed you...

His breathing quickened, eyes opening, lids heavy as he looked at you. "Love.. I'm not going to... Last long like this..." He whispered.

You moaned softly as you continued to grind down on him, moving at the same slow, passionate pace you had set.

"I know.." You moaned, "Take what you need."

That was all the permission he needed. Without pulling out of you, his hands held your thighs as he lifted you up, placing you on his desk and holding you body flush against his chest as he began to fuck you at the pace he needed for his release.

A gasp escaped your lips before you could stop it, nails clawing at his clothed back, legs wrapping around his waist. You moaned into his chest, listening to the sound of his quiet grunts.

His hands roamed over your body desperately, as if he was searching for a part of you to cling to, his grip finally settling on the back of your neck, pulling you closer against him as he continued to move faster.

"Love.." He moaned, the sound echoing off the stone walls, his rhythm faltering. "Please... I.. Can't...."

"I know." You said, the sound coming out a quick gasp. "It's okay. It's okay."

His grip on the back of your neck tightened, his other hand grasping at your waist as his hips began to stutter, shaky breathes escaping his lips.

He came with a sound that was akin to a whimper, his hips shaking, holding you tight against him as he rode out his high. He clung to you, panting for several moments as he recovered, before gently pulling your head away to look you in the eyes.

His raven hair was a mess, cheeks pink, eyes darkened as he looked down at you, expression a mix of pure relief and love. He reached down, his lips finding yours as he kissed you passionately, gently, his hands still roaming your body.

When he finally did pull his lips away, he did so only to murmer lowly against your lips: "Show me... How I can make that up to you..."

~

yall i hope to god this was okay. i love sub snape and tbh he probably is a sub more than a dom in a lot of instances but i feel like i just didnt do this justice for some reason but i tried so i hope its okay :((

thank u for the request <3