Tomarry One Shots

After Class

Summary: Professor Potter discovers that her star student is a camstar, and what does she do? Jack off and give him money, that's what.

Ship: TomRiddlexHarryPotter

All credit goes to osculatrix on Ao3

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Tom Riddle is the most attentive student she's had so far, and considering she's been teaching for the tail-end of a decade, Harry feels as if that's worthy of some sort of recognition.

And she's given it; remembering details that she was prone to immediately forgetting, her tendency to mix up names notorious enough to be referred to as 'her form of hazing'.

He's a two year transfer, joined her more prestigious university midway through his degree after garnering all the credits he needed at one outside the city, far out enough to offer full-ride scholarships to anyone with a pulse- or so she's heard. With his exceptional grades he'd been accepted on full-ride again, a considerable achievement considering how frugal the university board was, too busy hoarding all the money to afford their spouse's lifestyles, to pay off their degree and dough seeking mistresses.

Harry had thought her per-class pay out was insane at first, a perspective that hadn't lasted long. Not when the university's admins were all drunks, who saw any woman, employee or not, much like one does a vase, with the sole purpose to stand there and look pretty, without the capability of overhearing their chortling tales of folly- of which, they had many.

Riddle had quickly become one of the few students she looked forward to hearing from. His answers were always insightful, his essays always eloquent, edging on verbose in the best way. Out of all the students in her fourth-year criminal justice classes, he consistently sets the curve for all of her exams, often leaving his peers in the dust.

He'd upset Malfoy's son massively, something she remembers with fondness. As Harry walks into the empty classroom- far too small, private to be the lecture hall she often used- she can feel the faint ringing of her former classmate's voice in her head, complaining about upstarts ruining his Lucius' future, this and that.

If only Malfoy knew just how much of an upstart Tom Riddle really was.

It'd been entirely accidental- it's not as if she knew that her valedictorian was doing things that qualified him more as a valedicktorian! Harry cringes at that, more than she had when she'd woken up, remembered eager fingers and many, many zeroes, and his sweet, performative moans. Fuck, she thinks. Fuck.

It's an early start today, so she's had less time than usual to lie in her bed, contemplating such things like midlife crises, her student being a camstar- a good one, at that- and how she hadn't put off getting off for another day.

That she'd instead taken a closer look at his profile, allowed a swell of familiarity at the distinctive shape of his lips, the elegant length of his neck, and clicked and clicked. She'd thought about the pretty curve of his cock while brushing her teeth, and it'd taken her last alarm going off for her to realize she'd been standing there abusing her gums for a good five minutes.

Setting her bag down with a thump, she allows herself to fall, squatting down against the classroom's familiar desk, forehead bumping against its edge. Her heels are shaky beneath her, of a professional length but still abominably thin. Her arches just weren't quite right to wear them no matter how many years went by, the instability perpetual.

Her frustration at it all- sexy student and stupid stilettos- warms her, anger manifesting as flashes of tension around her body, fingers scratching at the edge of the desk, pulling a few of her stray hairs into their grip. She winces, hastily disentangling her curls, before going right back to pulverizing her nails into wood.