Oneshots, imagines, and ideas, oh my! *discontinued*

Severus Snape Imagine (Male Subject)

Severus Snape Imagine - Male Subject

Note: Never done something with a male subject, so let me know how this went. I feel the need to remind anyone who's expecting great things from this that I am a woman who is interested mostly in other women, please be easy on me.

Request for: a_person_named_alex look my cursor got stuck in the cool orange font, ooooh, look at me, It's very festive, because Halloween you know, lol, I'm such a nerd, a person named Alex, everyone and thank you

Song: Lane Boy by Twenty One Pilots

Warnings: Um? I think we're good, honestly. PG-13, like all of my writing, just to be safe.

Severus Snape Imagine

"Why do you suppose he always hangs around that nasty git?"
"Probably because that's the only company he can get!"

The snickering jeers weren't lost on him, and he looked after the chattering girls as they walked away. They either hadn't realized that he could hear them, or they didn't care. Either way, it wasn't the first or most vulgar thing he'd heard about his frequent visits to the potions room. Rolling his shoulders, he did his very best not to let it bother him as he made his way to the aforementioned classroom. 

There was silence in the hall, and there was no sound coming from behind the door that would make him believe anyone was inside. However, he knew better than to trust the silence and knocked on the door.

His response was an audible sigh, and a sharp 'What?'.

"It's (Y/n), Professor. I was wondering if you needed any help?"

There was a pause, not so long that you could call it reluctance, nor so short that you could name it a hesitation. Y/n knew it to be a thinking pause, and the Professor would not invite him in if he didn't really need help.

"Come in."

Y/n made sure to swallow back the victorious smile that came to his mouth, and very slowly opened the door. Professor Snape was sitting at his desk, apparently marking papers.

"Well? Close the door behind you. I'll not pretend to understand your abhorrent fascination with my classroom, but you can direct it to the leagues of filthy cauldrons awaiting attention." He gestured with his quill to the used pots stacked in the back of the room.

"Of course, Professor."

Y/n knew better than to initiate further small talk and simply got to work cleaning, two at a time.

In all honesty, he didn't know why he was so pleased to spend his free time doing detention work, it wasn't like he needed to be in the teacher's good graces. He was excellent at potions, always made them right, never failed an assignment. He'd bitterly remarked that his life would be perfect, if only his grades in transfiguration could be so marvelous. He'd done so to Snape, even, and earned a curled lip and a snapping jeer. He didn't mind it so terribly, though. He had rather thick skin.

Of course, his choice in hobby had drawn attention from his peers, and many had come to suggest that his evenings stocking shelves and cleaning floors were tied to a sexual proclivity towards figures of authority. He vehemently denied the mere idea, which lead his tormentors to insist that he protested too much. That wasn't it, of course. 

Sure, he didn't understand why the masses found Snape so unappealing--but that didn't immediately imply that he had any romantic feelings towards his professor. Such emotions would be ungrounded, illogical, and embarrassing. Even still, there was nothing unpleasant about Snape's company. He was very frank and point-centric. No beating around the bush, no coddling. Y/n found this relatively comforting.