#HES SUCH A CUTIE !!!!!!! | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

gg-neptune · 6 months ago

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hii! Are you still taking request? I'd like to ask for one in which Reader takes care of a very sick Severus (Anything but a cold, it's too common), with all the comfort and pampering it requires :] Sev deserves to be pampered

A/n: Hiiii! Thank you for requesting this! I really likes writing this it was quite fun imagining a sick Sev. I imagined him having pneumonia for this since it was the first thing that came to mind and I had it recently so I based it off my symtoms. I hope you enjoy this. :)

Warnings: Sickness, pneumonia, coughing, phlegm (like he coughs it up it's gross but yk), if I missed anything pls tell me

It was not very often that wizards were affected by muggle viruses and diseases. By now they had come up with various potions to counteract them, and they had plenty of magical plants to help with the effects of whatever they had managed to contract. However, there were some rare cases in which they could not fight off the muggle diseases. It usually was not because they did not have a remedy but rather because they did not have the means to get to the remedy. This was often the case for Professor Snape.

Of course, being the Potions Master, he was always the one restocking the hospital wing and helping students who came to him who happened to get sick. Who was there for him when he was sick? Absolutely no one. Until recent developments in his life.

You. You had absolutely flipped his entire world upside down and shaken it violently to the point he was not sure this was his life still. He was quite used to going to his desk and spending hours grading alone without interruption. Now he had you come sit with him and pester him. He was used to wallowing in his bed alone when feeling ill, after Madame Pomfrey had told him off for being too needy one too many times. However, you were now here, and that simply would not be happening.

Now he had caught some virus that, till the day he died, he would claim was just a simple cold. He had written an owl to you that morning explaining his condition: “Just a simple common cold. I’m calling out so I don’t spread it. Don’t have a good enough potion brewed. Have a good day. Love you.”

This raised your suspicion, so after receiving it, you made your way down to the dungeons. After making it to his chambers, which was quite a way in the dungeons, you knock on his door.

“Severus, you ok? I wanted to check on you,” you call out to him. After waiting a moment with no response, you try the doorknob. A feeling in your gut told you something was wrong. Luckily the door was not locked, so you let yourself in. The curtains were still closed, and it seemed as if he had not even woken up yet.

“Severus, hun, are you ok?” you call out to him only to be met with the sound of a loud groan.

Quickly, you make your way back to his bedroom. The door was left open, and inside there was Severus. His hair was wet with sweat, and so was his shirt. Normally he was pale, but now looking at him, he was ghastly. He had been lying down, but his head was barely lifted to be able to look up at you.

"Oh, you didn’t have—” he was cut off by a cough, followed by him wheezing for breath, trying to clear his lungs. “You didn’t have to come see me. I am fine, just a cold, as you can see,” he quickly tries to choke out before he is attacked by more phlegm coming up his throat. “Keep a reasonable distance; I don't want you to get sick.” He barely gets this out before coughing again, this time coughing up a sizable amount of mucus from his throat.

"Severus, I don’t think this is a cold, I mean.” You take him and his appearance in for a moment as concern begins to flood your chest.

“I’m going to write to Dumbledore and call out. I think you need to go to the hospital wing, but I know you won’t,” he flops his head back on his pillow, acting all dramatic.

“I’m fine. Go teach, I will be fine,” he wheezes out, pulling off his sweat-soaked shirt.

“Severus I think you have something worse than a cold. I mean, you look terrible.” You take a couple of steps toward his desk and pick up a quill and some parchment. “I’m calling out. Deal with it.” You quickly write an owl to Professor McGonagall, knowing she will not come to his room to try and visit but rather just find something for your students to do all while listening to Severus groan and cough in the background about how he is fine and how it’s “just a cold.”

After sending off the owl, you turn back to Severus and sit on the edge of the bed, reaching your hand forward and taking his hand in yours. "Severus, dear, you're obviously very sick.”

"No, I’m n-,” once again he is cut off by his own coughing.

“Lay down for a second. I'm going to go run you a bath. You need to dislodge some of the mucus in your throat.”

“That is simply not necessary.”

“Severus, I will drag you into the bath. You are covered in sweat.”

He grumbles one last time before you walk out of the room and into his bathroom. You run some hot water into his bathtub, letting it fill up. You decide to drip some peppermint oils into the water, hoping it will help his lungs clear up a bit.

Once the tub is half full, you go back to Severus, who is now splayed out on his back, still wheezing for breath.

“Come on, Sev, I’ve got you a bath running.” Your tone is gentle as you grab the man by his arm and try to rouse him up from his position on the bed.

He just groans before slowly pushing himself up and standing. He sways quite a bit and has to put quite a bit of his weight on you as you slowly walk him to the bathroom. You sit him on the closed toilet seat and begin to attempt to undress him. Which considering how soaked his clothes were with sweat proved to be a tremendous feat. After getting him to undress, you help him into the bathtub. The entire time you do not speak, just gently trying to get him into the tub. It would have not mattered anyway, as he keeps coughing every second or so anyway. You make sure to close the bathroom door so you can lock the steam in, which will help him dislodge some of the mucus in his lungs.

He leans against the back of the tub, eyes half closed with exhaustion. He can barely keep himself up as you grab a washcloth and spread some water on his shoulders and face.

“I’ll wash your hair too,” you whisper to him, not wanting to disturb him too much, as honestly, you cannot tell if he is asleep or not.

Suddenly he pushes his torso forward and dunks his head under the water, submerging his hair completely. He comes back up and lazily pushes it out of his face before relaxing against the tub again. “There. Hair washed,” he grumbled out.

“Severus, you cannot be serious.” Disbelief is the only word that you can come up with to describe your feelings right now.

“What,” he snaps. His illness has clearly shortened his temper and patience quite a bit. He glares at you through his eyelashes, not bothering to lift his head.

“You cannot just dunk your head under water and expect your hair to be clean. It’s drenched in sweat and disgusting,” you say as you begin to try to adjust him so you can actually wash his hair. He, however, does not help you at all and instead just goes completely limp, leaving you to have to move his dead weight.

Finally, after breaking a sweat yourself, you get him properly adjusted so you can wash his hair. You lather up some shampoo and begin to gently work it into his hair, focusing on his roots. He seems to almost flinch as you make contact with his scalp.

“What’s wrong? Too rough,” you ask him with a quiet voice, wanting him to relax as much as possible.

“My head hurts,” he replies, scrunching up his face in displeasure. “I don’t mean a headache like the skin on my head.”

Humming in acknowledgement, you more gently than the last time threaded the lather through his hair. You know if his scalp is tender, it will be painful either way, but it is best to be as gentle as possible.

When you are finally content with how much you’ve washed his hair, you attempt to rinse his hair out with a nearby cup, but he swats you away and dunks his head under again.

He continues to cough up more and more phlegm, and time goes on, the hot steam proving to loosen some of it. Eventually the water goes cold, and you help him up and into some fresh clothes.

As you are putting his shirt on, he leans against the sink, not being able to support himself when he gets a violent fit of coughing.

“Lift your arms up,” you tell him, getting ready to put his shirt on.

He does as you say without complaint, but after you slip his shirt on his arms, they find their way around your waist. He holds you there for quite a while. As you are pressed against his chest, enjoying his warmth (and also realizing he is most likely running a fever), you can feel him wheeze with each breath he takes.

“Thank you,” he whispers to you, barely audible after quite some time.

You simply nod, knowing he is just not used to people taking care of him like this or even sticking around him like this.

After a while, he releases you, and you walk him to the couch in the lounge area.

“Why do I have to sit in here?” he complains as you gently push him to sit down on the sofa.

“Am I wrong to assume your bedsheets are covered in sweat?”

He gives no response to this and instead just lays on the couch, grumbling in displeasure at the fact you had a point.

“I’m going to write an owl to madame Pomfrey for your fever and cough; I don’t think I could brew a decent enough potion, and I don’t want to leave you alone for very long,” you explain to him as you grab a spare piece of parchment from the table in his kitchen.

“Hurry up,” his voice is almost whiny as he says this. He’s glaring at you again, not happy with the fact you are so far away from him.

Following his demands, you quickly explain to Madame Pomfrey what Severus’ symptoms are and to please give him something quick. You sent it off with the school owl that had returned with McGonagall's response, which said that it was perfectly fine that you called out today. Professor Sprout needed more hands to deal with some Devil's Snare.

Before returning to Severus, you rummage through his cabinet and quickly find a sleeping draft, deciding he needed to rest some. You bring it back to him and find him waiting on the sofa, sitting upright, glaring at you still.

“Why did you take so long? Like genuinely, what are you doing there?” he complains. You don’t know what had gotten into your man, but he seems to be even more dramatic and sassy today.

“I wrote an owl and I got you some sleeping potion; calm down.” You sit beside him, wrapping your arm around him and allowing him to lean into you. “Why don’t you lay down, Severus? Here, take a few drinks.” He does as you say, but he does not lay down.

“I can’t breathe when I’m lying down,” he’s becoming even more congested as time goes on.

Hearing this, you summon some pillows from his room with your wand and use them to prop up his head and chest. He settles against it, nestling himself in the pillows, not bothering with blankets as they are too hot for him at the moment.

You are sitting on the edge of the couch, running your hand through his still wet hair as he teeters on the edge of consciousness when he reaches out an arm and wraps it around your waist. He is attempting to pull you close to him; however, in his sick state, he cannot muster up the strength to actually pull you to him. You decide to help him out and lay next to him. You attempt not to put too much weight on his chest, not wanting to obstruct his breathing even more, but he continues to tug on your waist until you are on him to his full content.

Soon after, since he decided to exert all of his energy on pulling you on to him, he passes out immediately after. Leaving you to your own thoughts and opportunity to admire him.

His head had fallen back on the pillows, mouth slightly parted. It was only a matter of time before he started snoring. His hair that was still wet was splayed out everywhere.

A small smile formed on your loops as you looked up at him. He looked so calm for once in his life. He was not scowling or wearing an expression of displeasure but rather just a calm, happy face of content.

You run your fingers through his hair, earning a sigh from him, though he does not move or show any other signs of waking. Pressing a kiss to the tip of his nose, you carefully rest your head against this chest once more.

~~Later~~

You had been lying there for quite a while before Severus had woken up. You were not able to fall asleep yourself, but it did not bother you, opting to just admire the man you were laying on top of.

When he does finally wake up, it is only because madam Pomfrey is knocking at the door, which you have to get up to answer. He had quite a grip on you, so after struggling to get him to let go, you finally are able to answer the door, allowing her to give you the potions he will need in order to make a recovery.

“I expect he’s got pneumonia, but this should do the trick. Make him drink all of it, then sleep, and when he wakes he should be fine. Maybe cough up some remaining phlegm but otherwise good as new,” she explains, handing a bottle of dark green liquid to you.

“Thank you, Poppy. Genuinely, if he stayed in the state he was in for much longer, he was going to hack up a lung,” you partially joke but then begin to wonder if this was actually true.

She takes her leave soon after having students in the hospital wing to attend to, and you return to Severus, deciding it is time to wake him up. However, he is already awake. Glaring at you once again.

“Why were you gone?” he wheezes out, slouching against the pillows.

“You hold up the potion bottle to him, knowing he will recognize it immediately. He huffs and holds his arms out to you, wanting you close to him.

Not being able to deny him, you set the potion bottle down on the table and snuggle next to him. He is no longer lying but rather sitting against the pillows, allowing you to sit in his lap. You smile up at him, but he is not looking at you, opting to scowl at the potion you have been provided moments before.

“Do you have personal issues with that potion or something?” you joke. A hand goes up to his face, resting it against his cheek. He leans his face into your hand, craving more and more of your touch.

“I should’ve been the one to brew it,” he complains. You can tell by his tone he is feeling like he is not enough. You must be quick to rebuttal, or Severus will get lost in his own head.

“You were sick, Sev. and spending good time with me.”

Luckily, he is content enough with this answer and decides to drop it and shove it from his mind. He holds you close to him for quite some time. You keep your hands on his cheek, stroking his cheekbone, and occasionally you press a kiss to wherever you can reach on him, causing his cheeks to go a slight shade of pink.

Soon his eyes start to droop a bit, so you decide it is time to administer the potion to him. You lean over and grab it from the table, and after some coaxing, he drinks the entire thing. This time a sleeping potion is not needed in order to put him to sleep, so you just spend the rest of the time cuddling.

“Thank you for taking care of me,” he whispers to you, almost asleep.

"Anytime, Sev,” you whisper back. You glance up at him, expecting to be met with his dark eyes looking at you fondly, only to see he has succumbed to sleep.

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