#professor riddle

[kirasblog01]

Detention - Professor Riddle

pairing: Professor Riddle x female reader

summary: Professor Riddle confronts his favorite student after noticing another boy's flirtatious advances, determined to remind her exactly who she belongs to.

CW: Smut, MDNI, teacher-student relationship, spanking, mild degradation, possessiveness, edging, fingering, power dynamics.

The classroom empties slowly, students gathering their books and chatting amongst themselves as they file out. You remain in your seat, pretending to organize your notes as your heart hammers against your ribs. Professor Riddle had requested you stay behind, his dark eyes finding yours just moments before the bell rang.

You'd felt his gaze throughout the lecture, especially when Theo had leaned over to whisper something in your ear, his fingers brushing against your arm. The harmless flirtation had earned you a look from your professor that made your thighs clench involuntarily.

The door clicks shut, leaving you alone with the man who dominates your thoughts far more than is appropriate.

"Miss," Professor Riddle's voice is smooth as velvet as he approaches your desk. "Please come to my office."

You follow him down the corridor, your footsteps echoing in the now-empty hallways. His office is exactly as you'd imagined, dark wood, towering bookshelves and the scent of old parchment and something distinctly him.

He closes the door behind you, the sound making you jump. When you turn, he's leaning against it, blocking the only exit.

"Do you enjoy the attention of meaningless boys?" he asks, his voice dangerously low.

"I-I don't know what you mean, Professor."

"Don't play innocent with me," he steps forward, crowding you against his desk. "That useless boy couldn't keep his hands to himself today. And you... you let him. I saw the way you smiled at him, the way you leaned in just a little closer."

"He was just asking about the assignment," you protest weakly.

"Is that what you call it when someone's eyes undress you?" Tom's voice drops to a dangerous whisper. "Bend over the desk."

Your body responds before your mind can protest, your hands flat against the polished wood as you lean forward. You hear the rustle of his robes, then the warmth of his body behind you.

"Count," he says simply, before his hand comes down sharply on your backside.

"One," you gasp, the sting spreading heat through your body.

Another spank, harder this time. "Two."

"Three." Your voice is trembling now.

"Four." The impact makes you arch your back, a soft moan escaping your lips.

"Five." Your flesh tingles, each spank sending waves of pleasure-pain through you.

"Six." This one lands directly on your core, making you cry out.

"Seven." Tears prick at your eyes now.

"Eight." You're squirming against the desk, shame warring with arousal.

"Nine." Your panties are soaked through.

"Ten." The final spank leaves you breathless, your skin burning where his hand marked you.

His hand pauses, resting against your heated skin. "Who do you belong to?"

"You, Professor," you breathe, your cheek pressed against the desk.

"Say my name," he commands.

"You, Tom."

His fingers trace the line of your panties before dipping beneath the fabric. You're already wet, your body betraying how much you want this.

"Always so responsive," he murmurs, his voice thick with satisfaction. His fingers slide through your folds, circling your clit without quite touching it. "Did you get this wet for your little friend too?"

"No," you gasp as he finally presses against your sensitive nub. "Only for you."

"Good girl."

His fingers tease you, bringing you to the edge of release before pulling back. You whimper in frustration, pushing back against his hand.

"Please, Professor..."

"Please what?" he asks, though he knows exactly what you need.

"Please let me come."

His laugh is dark and sinful. "Not yet. I want to hear you beg first."

He continues his torture, alternating between circling your clit and sliding his fingers inside you, each time stopping just before you can find your release. Your legs shake, your knuckles white where you grip the edge of the desk.

"Please," you sob, "I need it."

"Need what?" he prompts, his voice husky with desire.

"Need you. Need to come. Please, Professor, please..."

With a satisfied hum, he finally gives you what you crave, his fingers working expertly as his other hand holds you in place. The pleasure builds impossibly fast, overwhelming you until you're crying out his name, your body convulsing against his hand.

When you finally come back to yourself, he's turning you around to face him. His dark eyes are filled with possessive hunger as he captures your lips in a bruising kiss.

"Remember this next time you think about letting another boy touch what's mine," he murmurs against your mouth. "You belong to me."

You nod breathlessly, already craving his touch again as his hands begin to explore your body once more. His fingers pinch your nipples through the thin fabric of your blouse, making you gasp into his mouth.

"Next time someone tries to flirt with you," he says, his voice low and threatening, "I won't be so lenient. I'll bend you over my desk in front of the entire class and show them exactly who you belong to."

The threat sends another wave of arousal through you, and you can only nod in agreement as his mouth claims yours again.

[bettyvick]

professor riddle (part 1)

part 1 | part 2 | part 3

professor!tom riddle x reader

summary: another year in hogwarts, but this time is different and twisted…

warnings: tom is a manipulator, toxic as fuck, a dickhead and a groomer (reader is 17 and tom over 40), age gap, you belong to the prewett family and have a brother and a little sister, ravenclaw!reader, idk if this is cannonicly correct, if there are any mistakes please tell me respectfully, this is gonna be a series.

author’s note: i’m backkkk, this has been on my wattpad over a year so i’ve decided to post it here and translate it. sorry for dissapearing collage is hard. sorry if this is cringy lmao

You pulled the cart harder, forcing your arms to stay strong. The heat invaded your entire body, as if a flame of fire constantly pursued you. You ran your hand over your forehead to wipe away the sweat.

A few more houses, hold on.

You clenched your teeth and kept walking. The only thing that brought you comfort was the view: September had arrived, and with it the beginning of autumn. The leaves on the trees turned yellow and some were already falling to the ground, brown. The sky was overcast and didn't let the sun peek out anywhere, typical of London.

A few more blocks down, you finally arrived at your destination: "Malfoy Manor". You admired the façade before you rang the doorbell.A path flanked by neatly trimmed hedges on the left and short, wild shrubs on the right led to a wide path, interrupted by a pair of impressive wrought-iron gates that marked the boundaries of the mansion's grounds.

You softly pressed the small white bell hanging from the fence. It emitted a high-pitched ring.

—Yes? —exclaimed a male voice that you immediately recognized. It sounded irritated.

—Mail —you replied, more tired than you intended to be.

Nobody answered again, but the bars parted, allowing you to pass.You moved slowly; dragging the metal cart across the gravel floor took twice as long.

If there were only a few houses left to be distributed, how could it weigh so much?

Finally, you reached the entrance. A friendly-looking house elf opened the door and let you pass into the foyer right away. The scent of expensive air freshener, mint, and oak filled your nostrils.

—Leave it here— Draco said without looking at you, walking away with a cup in his hand. —Ad be careful with it, it costs more than a month of your salary.

—You're very demanding, Malfoy— I replied in a teasing tone.

Draco stopped. He turned around with his eyes open and a mocking smile.

—Wow, wow... working as a mail woman. I didn't expect that. I didn't even realize it was you.

—You're not exactly the brightest, Malfoy— you said with a smile as you pulled the enormous box with his name off the hellish device.

—How's that son of a bitch Gale? He doesn't respond to any of our letters, he asked, leaning against the wall.

He was wearing a dark green wool sweater, black suit pants, and matching loafers. His hair, almost as white as his skin, was perfectly groomed. That made you look at your own clothes and feel a bit embarrassed.You probably didn't look very attractive then.

—He's grounded. But if you really want to talk to your boyfriend, I'll take you with me— I replied mockingly.

—Fuck off.

You both laughed. You left the package on the floor and sighed in relief.

—Nice uniform.

—I don't appreciate your sarcasm, Draco.

—Okay, okay. Come on, have a drink, you must be tired.

You weren't going to refuse. After dealing with some pretty nasty wizards and Muggles all morning, you deserved a little reward. Besides, if you didn't rest a bit, you'd probably get cramps or something.

You followed him through the halls of the mansion. As you entered the house, a chill ran down your spine due to the change in temperature.

Finally, you arrived at the living room. There you could identify Lucius, in his classic black tunic, sitting in a brown leather armchair across from another who was facing away from you. Lucius seemed tense, although he always was.His gaze turned toward you.

—Miss Prewett, said he, unusually friendly, standing up from his seat. It's a pleasure to see you again.

He came over and gave you a gentle handshake, but a look of disgust escaped him when the smell of sweat from your clothes reached him. Your cheeks flushed.

—Similarly, Mr. Malfoy— you replied timidly. That man intimidated you greatly.

Draco sat near the fireplace.

—Come on, sit down— Lucius exclaimed, guiding you to the chair that had previously been occupied. —I present to you this year's Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher, Mr. Tom Riddle.

That was exactly the moment you knew it.

Eyes like emeralds that could freeze with a single glance. Jet-black hair perfectly styled. Skin as pale as snow. Long legs, veiny arms. A black vest over a rolled-up white shirt.

Everything about him screamed danger from the start.

But you ignored every sign because of that fleeting fantasy. If only you had listened...

Your stomach tightened as he looked at you with his dull, almost dead eyes. You shuddered in the chair.

—A pleasure, Miss Prewett, he said with a serious expression.

You opened your mouth, but the words got stuck in your throat.

Don't be ridiculous. Speak up.

Speak, speak, speak.

—Similarly.

Professor Riddle took your hand and brought it to his lips without breaking eye contact. His gaze burned on you.

Then reality hit like a bucket of cold water.

Your mind went back to the horrible navy blue and yellow uniform you were wearing, the smell of sweat and gasoline after having to stop to refuel. Not to mention your hair, which was tied up in two braids—if they could even be called braids anymore.

—Do you work as a post woman? —he asked in a monotone tone.

—E… well —you said nervously—. Not really. It's just a punishment. For a day.

—Punishment?

—Yes.

Your cheeks were now burning with embarrassment. That seemed to amuse him.

—Wow. I can't imagine she did anything bad enough to deserve punishment— he commented with a slight smile.

Draco looked at you with a furrowed brow.

—What year are you in, Miss Prewett? —asked Professor Riddle.

—Sixth year, sir.

—One less than you, right, Malfoy?

—Yes, sir— the blond man replied, looking bored, staring at his cup as if it were the most interesting thing in the world.

—I'm sorry to interrupt... oh, dear, hello.

Narcissa Malfoy appeared at the door of the room and quickly assessed the scene. She wore a beautiful charcoal black dress and her usual bun with white and black streaks. You stood up to greet her. She opened her arms and wrapped you in a sweet hug.

Cissy was like a second mother to you.

—I came to tell you that dinner is ready. Oh my, stay for dinner.

—I'd love to, Cissy, but I still have packages to deliver— you apologized, feeling terrible for having to turn down the offer.

—That's easy to fix— Professor Riddle said, standing up.

He went to the foyer and everyone followed him. There was the squeaky cart with the remaining mail. He took out his wand and, with a gentle motion, the cart disappeared.

—Done— he said with an air of sufficiency.

—I'll tell Dobby to set the table for one more— Narcissa announced as she headed to the dining room.

The dinner was delicious, as you'd expect from the Malfoy cooks. Your family was wealthy, like all the families of the Sacred 28, but you never had a chef because your mother liked to cook. Still, objectively, it didn't compare to the cuisine of the most sought-after chefs in the magical world.

They served a delicious meat and vegetable pie first, and mashed peas. You didn't like it, but you ate it out of courtesy.

Then Professor Riddle and Mr. Malfoy continued discussing important matters: the Ministry of Magic and the recent crisis over the loss of werewolf records.

Draco would sit across from you at dinner and make faces that would force you to smile and laugh silently.

Professor Riddle would occasionally look at Draco with disapproval, then at Lucius with boredom while speaking, and finally at you in a way that you couldn't decipher.

—They should raid them. Lock them all up!— Lucius said with disdain.

—I don't think they're that bad— you said.

Silence fell over the table.

—Excuse me?— Lucius asked, confused.

—In the magical world, less than 20% are werewolves, at least of those registered.Within that 20%, only 7.3% have committed some type of crime, including minor offenses. Mano people commit crimes because their circumstances force them to do so, for survival and because of a society that systematically oppresses them. If they were given more rights, were not socially isolated, and their transformations were monitored to ensure they were safe for everyone, the percentage would be reduced by more than half...

The information flowed from your mouth almost automatically.

Draco watched you open-mouthed. Cissy tried to hold back her laughter as she looked at her husband's indignant face. And Professor Riddle kept his green eyes fixed on you, with a small smile.

—...so, comparing all the data, wizards commit more crimes than werewolves. And that's why we shouldn't imprison or murder them all, you concluded.

Rowena Ravenclaw would be proud.

The dark oak chair creaked under your weight.

—Ah, well— Mr. Riddle finally said. —It's been impressive, hasn't it, Lucius?

Lucius didn't open his mouth again. He just nodded slightly.

—Well, a splendid dinner, Mrs. Malfoy— the green-eyed man added as he stood up. —But, if you'll allow me, I must leave. I'm afraid I still have a lot to prepare for the start of the school year at Hogwarts.

—Could you accompain Mr. Riddle to the door?— Lucius said with that cold demanding tone.

You could feel him looking at you, expectant. And you finally nodded with a knot in the stomach.

He politely said goodbye to the Malfoys, and together you went to the foyer.

—I must say that it was spectacular how you handled the situation in the dining hall, Miss Prewett— he said as he put on his long black coat and grabbed an umbrella.

—Thank you, sir— you tried to sound calm, but you couldn't.

—I hope to see you soon. Maybe under better circumstances.

His low voice pierced your ears, and you wished that moment would last longer.

—Likewise.

You extended your hand, expecting a handshake, but he took it again and gently kissed the back of your hand. The door opened and he stepped outside.

The sky was black, with no stars. The night had arrived and it was pouring rain. He walked away down the gravel path.

—Goodbye, Sir— you whispered as you watched him walk away.

[edb954]

I Swear Everytime I see a Professor! *Character* x reader story i turn into this bitch:

[kittykat12writes]

Young

pairing: Professor Riddle x student!reader

description: Professor Riddle doesnt appreciate little boys talking to whats his.

Warnings: Smut, age gap (reader is of age), dom/sub dynamics, breeding kink, bondage, unprotected vaginal sex.

You stood outside the entrance to the Great Hall, adjusting the yellow ribbon that held your hair up. Your black robes were open just enough to show the simple black dress you wore underneath, a choice you now regretted as you felt the appreciative gaze of a Hufflepuff boy in your year.

"So I was thinking," the boy was saying, though he seemed to be having difficulty maintaining eye contact with your face, "maybe we could study together for the upcoming Charms exam? I've heard you're quite good at practical applications."

Before you could respond, a familiar presence materialized behind you. Professor Riddle's cologne, sandalwood and something darker reached you first, followed by the chill of his body as he stopped just beside you.

"Miss L/N," he said, his voice cold and devoid of warmth. "A word, if you please."

The Hufflepuff boy straightened up immediately, his friendly demeanor evaporating. "Professor Riddle. I didn't see you there."

"Clearly," Riddle replied, his voice smooth as venom. "Five points from Hufflepuff for loitering in the corridor. Return to your common room."

"I...yes, sir," the Hufflepuff stammered. "I'll see you around," he whispered to you before fleeing down the corridor.

"You didn't have to do that," you said once the boy was out of earshot, turning to face your professor with a frown.

"Do what?" he asked, though he knew exactly what you meant.

"Take points just for talking to me," you argued. "He was being friendly."

"He was undressing you with his eyes," Riddle corrected, his gaze sweeping over you critically. "And your attire is hardly appropriate for a Hogwarts student. Come with me. Now."

The walk to his chambers was silent, the tension between you palpable. As soon as the door closed behind you, he pushed you back against it.

"You're mine," he growled, his hands pinning your wrists above your head. "Do you understand that?"

"Y-yes," you breathed, your heart racing.

"Say it."

"I'm yours."

He kissed you roughly, claiming your mouth with an intensity that left you breathless.

"Listen to me," he grunted as he pulled away. "You're mine and I want everyone to know it, even if they can't know the truth. All these boys who think they have a chance with you will learn their place. I'm going to fill you with my seed until you're swollen with my child and everyone can see that you belong to me."

"What?" you breathed. He had never mentioned children before, but the thought of him claiming you so completely sent a thrill through your body.

"I'm going to breed you," he doubled down. "Right now."

He pulled you toward his bedroom, his chambers dark and imposing.

"Strip," he ordered.

You removed your robes and dress, letting them fall to the floor while Riddle went to a chest of drawers. He returned holding a pair of silver handcuffs you'd never seen before. The metal gleamed in the candlelight, intricate snakes coiled around the bands.

Before you could process this, he was pushing you onto his bed. As soon as you were flat on your back, he manhandled your arms until they were above your head, handcuffing them together and to the headboard.

Once you were properly secured, Riddle stepped back to remove his own robes. You watched, always mesmerized by his lean, muscular body.

"I'm going to breed you," he said as he climbed on top of you. "Fill you with my seed." There was no teasing, no foreplay. He just lined his hard length up with your entrance. "Ready?"

"Yes," you nodded, and he immediately pushed inside you.

"You're mine," he growled, already thrusting in and out of you. His pace was fast and rough, completely unapologetic.

You struggled against your restraints, the cuffs digging into your wrists painfully. His hands gripped your hips tight enough to leave bruises in the shape of his fingertips.

"Going to fill this cunt with my seed," he muttered into your ear. "Going to fill you up, get you so fucking pregnant."

"T-Tom," your words were broken by a moan. "Professor, oh fuck."

"I'm going to pump you full of my cum until you're big and round so everyone will remember you're mine."

"Yours," you gasped. "All yours."

His hips moved faster, his breathing heavier. "You're never going to forget who you belong to. Going to get you pregnant and prove to you that I'm better than those boys your age. You'll never think about them again."

"Tom," you pulled against the handcuffs. Tears formed in your eyes. Was he really that jealous? Did he really think you'd ever leave him?

"Take it," he groaned. "You can take my seed, let me fill you up." He grunted with each thrust. "Ready for it?"

"Y-yes," you responded shakily.

He buried himself as deep inside you as possible and moaned as he came, his hot release painting your insides.

You whimpered, your tears spilling over as you reached your climax. "Tom," you cried, straining against the cuffs.

After a few deep breaths, he pulled out and reached up to remove the handcuffs. He pulled you into his arms and you cried against his chest. He rubbed your back, his other hand gently grabbing one of your wrists so he could press soft kisses to the angry red marks left by the cuffs.

"Tom," you cried.

"You're okay," he soothed. "I love you. I'm sorry I was so rough. Are you okay?"

"Do… do you really think I'm going to leave you for someone my own age?" you managed to look up at him through your tear-filled eyes.

"No, my love," he kissed you gently. "I know you wouldn't leave me. I trust you, I just…" he sighed. "I don't always trust these boys. They think with their pricks and tonight I just… I got carried away. I'm sorry."

"It's okay," you cuddled into his chest, taking deep breaths until your body felt calm again. After a while, you looked up at him again. "Is that boy really only nice to me because he wants to sleep with me? He doesn't actually want to be my friend?"

He could see the true sadness on your face, the hint of hope in your eyes that was almost hidden by your disappointment. He had to take a deep breath before he could answer you.

"I don't know, sweetheart," he spoke softly, watching the way you seemed to deflate even more at his answer.

"I just," you sniffled. "I really thought he enjoyed talking to me. I thought I might finally make a friend my own age."

"I'm so sorry, my love," he kissed your forehead. "I'll keep an eye on him. We'll determine his true intentions. How about that?"

"Okay," you agreed quietly. "Just promise you'll be discreet."

He kissed your cheek. "I promise."

[artytaeh]

( ☆ ) DEFENSE AGAINST THE DARK AMBITIONS ; PROFESSOR THOMAS MARVOLO RIDDLE . 𖥔 ࣪˖

. 𖥔 ࣪˖ my baby lives in shades of cool; cold heart and hands and aptitude. (...) but i can't help him, can't make him better; and i can't do nothing about his strange weather... — shades of cool, lana del rey.

╰ 𖤐 use of the actor tom hughes to portray an older version of tom riddle; adult, recently finished his higher studies to specialize on the field of (defense against) the dark arts — charmed his acquaintances to become the first choice to teach at hogwarts. in this version, tom never became voldemort, nor has specific plans of doing so.

☆ PROFESSOR!TOM RIDDLE whose most genuine words were to dumbledore, during an incident that he provoked, that if hogwarts were to send its students home, he'd have nowhere to go—nowhere to look forward to coming back. hogwarts castle, amidst the scottish fields and moody weather, is his home sweet home; less than ten years later, half of it to complete his higher studies as an exemplary scholar, and he's back: a kind owl of suggestion from one of the course teachers who were over the moon with a genius like thomas marvolo riddle.

☆ PROFESSOR!TOM RIDDLE who has a strange relationship with his teenage years, albus dumbledore and the immensity of hogwarts' grounds. his teenagehood went through in a blurry that he'd rather not dwell, the headmaster is a sort of father figure that he's weary of, and it's a little sad that a school is the closest thing he ever felt to a home—but then again, what could one expect of an orphan like him? you cling onto dear life to the smallest crumbs of normalcy and comfort.

☆ PROFESSOR!TOM RIDDLE who developed the habit of smoking—after spending his years as a hogwarts' student mentally scrutinizing those who hid in discreet settings of the castle to steal a smoke, having felt superior for his distaste towards tobacco and cigarettes. during his young adulthood, that changed and—and, in his defense, a cigarette for a private moment before evening bleeds into night is a form of pampering himself. besides, it helped to deal with the stress of the higher academics he pursued.

☆ PROFESSOR!TOM RIDDLE who made sure to make his past be a mystery to anyone who was nosey enough to investigate him; burning his roots until its forest is nothing but a cryptic land of ashes, nowhere to trace its ancient history. no, it's more than enough to know that tom was a slytherin as soon as the sorting hat saw him—and that parseltongue is a language he knew how to speak before spelling english greetings. only albus dumbledore and a handful of other professors, hopefully dead, would remember his name as a poor orphan. no family, no money in his name, nothing but the scraps of kindness that allowed him to study in one of the best wizardy schools.

☆ PROFESSOR!TOM RIDDLE who'd never speak of his past. at most, he would comment—feigning nonchalance, because that is a past he's proud to share—that he attended a scholarship offered to him, a student with outstanding performance. his academic achievements are the only parts of his last before teaching at hogwarts that he might share. other than that, students might as well bet with each other whether he's an ungrateful son, has parents overseas, or whatever other stories they might imagine to fill the gaps of his childhood. in the end, it doesn't matter; bets are just bets, impossible to won or to lose, because a concrete answer will never resurface.

☆ PROFESSOR!TOM RIDDLE who'd be honored to let the librarian rest during weekends, so he can safely prevent wandering students of visiting the restricted section. naturally, this means that as a professor, he no longer needs the tricks he found necessary in the past, back when tom was slytherin's head boy; nowadays, its passageway is given in a silver tray for the defense against the dark arts' teacher.

☆ PROFESSOR!TOM RIDDLE who easily became a favorite amongst witches, and a reason for envy from young wizards. while his demeanor can be perceived as arousing by women—a man who behaves elegantly, smart and capable, mysterious in every sense of the word—some male students struggle to find the courage to defy him; tom never really stopped being a kind of intimidating person, perhaps due to his stoicism, which he... worked on, during his years of higher scholarship.

☆ PROFESSOR!TOM RIDDLE whose classes actually are interesting. nevermind how dumb and imbecile a student can be, whenever his class is interrupted slash interacted with, tom gives the opportunity for the young wizard or witch to speak about their opinions. so you think that this subject is useless?... alright, then tell us why; justify your answer, convince me. from then on, tom actually listens; subtly giving hints and offering brief commentary that shapes the student's loud thoughts into something that aligns with his.

☆ PROFESSOR!TOM RIDDLE whose head boy's habits of delivering detention diminished upon becoming a teacher. being a professor, meant that assigning detention was a problem of his to solve now—sincerely, it's a waste of time and thoughts if it's not something that upsets him; if that's the case, then he'll gladly invite wizards and witches to punishment out of pettiness. detention is given if one breaks the school's rules or if there was irresponsible behavior — tom prevents copying schoolwork and cheating by his own means, so he doesn't have to worry about that; opposite to other professors, tom wouldn't send a student to detention for performing dangerous spells. been there, done that. riddle isn't interested on being an hypocrite.

☆ PROFESSOR!TOM RIDDLE who only had to give detention once to send a message of not testing his patience. before he taught the chapter which mentions boggarts and how to defeat them, tom waited for the first dimwitted with a bad boy attitude — half an hour in his classroom after the day's classes were over, and boom. a boggart to send a little despair, lazily solving the problem and then, vague words that promised worse evenings if disobedience met his way once again. naturally, seeing the first victim of professor riddle's detention was enough to prevent talking-back and smartass behavior; for a troublemaker to return pale from their punishment, then...

☆ PROFESSOR!TOM RIDDLE who jinxes and charms his exams, so that his students don't have a way to possibly cheat on his tests. some of these include distorting the sequence of its questions, or charms that blurry the sight of those papers from farther pairs of eyes. his tests aren't easy, either; it takes more than decorating paragraphs from the DADA's manual book to impress professor riddle in his field of teaching. most of his questions require critical thinking, where you must use your knowledge to solve a situation — truly preparing his students from quick-thinking and real life situations.

☆ PROFESSOR!TOM RIDDLE who enjoys suggesting debates to discuss the end of a chapter he finished teaching; it helps to understand if there is a topic that wasn't properly understood while working the students' memory to internalize important information. furthermore, it helps to build trains of thought for DADA related purposes. tom supposes that it also helps to shape the students’ moral compass.

☆ PROFESSOR!TOM RIDDLE who praises his students for actually participating in class for asking questions—pertinent, interesting questions—rather than feeling annoyed by it. even though tom doesn't perceive himself as an extrovert, much less enjoyer of most conversations, the dark arts is a topic that utterly fascinates him, hence why he's surprisingly happy teaching it to young wizards and juvenile witches. besides, he values that his audience is interested and curious about the topic; as a curious wizard himself, tom doesn't mind wasting a few minutes after class to answer doubts. furthermore, never shies away from answering whatever he's asked (if it's related to the subject he teaches, not himself; never himself). asking him grants questions—but if the subject brings a raise of an eyebrow, then he's keeping an eye on you.

☆ PROFESSOR!TOM RIDDLE who just knows when a student is declining to a dangerous interest of the dark arts. professor riddle has a sixth sense that whispers in his ear that tonight, he'd find a certain scoundrel attempting their way down the restricted section—or a stupid adventurer about to endanger their life in the forbidden forest. discreetly gives them detention, because no, you wouldn't outwit tom even if he was half asleep—all of those rules, he broke himself as a student; but never got caught. let's not insult his intelligence, alright?

☆ PROFESSOR!TOM RIDDLE whose favorite colleagues are fellow professors who mind their business, do not push him for work hang outs in hogsmeade's pub but offer pleasant conversation from time to time. does not tolerate ignorant imbeciles; tom would rather deal with insecure talented people, those aware of their difficulties or arrogants who, at least, perform flawlessly. would discreetly jinx people that he doesn't like—for good reason—to improve his mood and teach them a lesson.

⌕ ، types of professors he'd sympathize with: minerva mcgonagall, remus lupin, horace slughorn, pomona sprout, mirabel garlick, abraham ronen, eleazar fig.

⌕ ، types of professors he'd have a rough time spending more than thirty seconds with: dolores umbridge, sybill trelawney, severus snape, gilderoy lockhart, matilda weasley.

☆ PROFESSOR!TOM RIDDLE who'd probably be one of his student's first choice to ask for help, because before you've gained courage to request it, tom had already figured out that something was wrong; something that he might be able to fix. reassures that he won't overshare your problems with no one else — simultaneously, reminds you that depending on the problem, he'd have to report to dumbledore so proper authorities can do their job. tom wouldn't lie to you—lying is the key ingredient to break trust, and some softer side of him, one that he pushes to the brink of the unvisited depths of his heart, genuinely doesn't want to fail a student. a kid, a teenager who doesn't know better. professor riddle convinces himself that his job is done once he contacted the correct lines of work, that he shouldn't waste a thought on a situation that's already resolved, but...

... but, tom keeps an eye on records that might be exchanged between desks, attentive to any information received from dumbledore or mcgonagall. he just... wants to be sure, that he's done everything he could, that everything was set right.

tom doesn't care. tom just wants to be competent at his job. right?

☆ PROFESSOR!TOM RIDDLE who has a softer spot for slytherin students, especially if he notices that the snake's house no longer is a social status, but somewhat discriminated by other students—be it by salazar slytherin being interpreted as a terrible person, or for its supposed relation with death eaters. definitely gives a lesson to students who spread nonsensical rumors that could begin a case of bullying; offers wise words of resilience to students who are struggling, but that's it—this man doesn't know how to comfort someone.

☆ PROFESSOR!TOM RIDDLE who sincerely enjoys spending time in his office. the DADA's classroom had always been one of his favorites; the assigned office didn't disappoint. tom doesn't mind being visited if there are pertinent issues to be solved; otherwise, he's happy to read in front of the fireplace when it rains outside, or taking a stroll in hogwarts' grounds whenever a sunny day presents itself.

☆ PROFESSOR!TOM RIDDLE whose hair never looks messy, gives life to the scent of old books and a refreshing male perfume with the intensity of a breeze, dressed with neat ties, different shades of grey or discreet colors, resembling dark academia if it was a living man of a mysterious background.

☆ PROFESSOR!TOM RIDDLE who might have a hidden agenda, coming back to a castle of unspoken secrets and valuable information. not that one should worry about that. tom knows what he's doing... as much as dumbledore refuses to stop teaching until he feels that the castle is safe once again.

· 🫁𝄒 ALTERNATIVE UNIVERSES with professor thomas marvolo riddle as a romantic interest ◞

𖤐 ⏜ professor!tom riddle && student!reader◞ waiting for updates / requests.

𖤐 ⏜ professor!tom riddle && auror!reader ◞ waiting for updates / requests.

𖤐 ⏜ professor!tom riddle && professor!reader ◞ waiting for updates / requests.

𖤐 ⏜ professor!tom riddle && honeyduke's waitress!reader◞ waiting for updates / requests.

𖤐 ⏜ professor!tom riddle && criminal!reader◞ waiting for updates / requests.

𖤐 ⏜ professor!tom riddle && healer!reader◞ waiting for updates / requests.

𖤐 ⏜ professor!tom riddle && ghost!reader◞ waiting for updates / requests.

⏜ 𖤐 ◞ bots with / about professor tom riddle.

[tippilo]

Ruin Her by @tippilo

Commissioned art by @pollyholyart

The class meandered forward, turning in their assignments. A smile graced her full lips as she approached his desk. “Just turning in my homework,” she said with smooth ease. He glanced at the title: An Analysis of Dark Creatures and the Role They Play in Society. He’s confident that she thoroughly researched it. Such a good girl… Tom wanted to ruin her.

Read for free HERE on AO3

[thennora-hp]

Tom Marvolo Riddle

I know there are some flaws in the art, for example I made the eyes look too feminine when they should have looked more masculine and I showed off those juicy lips less, but anyway I can say that I'm happy with the result.

[xeyesofstardust]

I'm slowly working on this idea for a Professor Tom Riddle x OC centered post-war Fic (with a little bit of Mattheo sprinkled in there) that popped in my head a couple of days back.

Tom Riddle (I'm going with the variation of Tom that isn't really Tom. More like Tom III. Come on you know Bellatrix would have totally named one son after him in some way, shape or form) is the strict, overbearing professor who is one coffee & smoke break away from turning into the Dark Lord 2.0

Mattheo Riddle is obnoxious little brother who pops up at the wrong time just to piss his big brother off. He gets away with a lot of shit because he knows Tom would never actually kill him. Just his luck, killing him is the only way to get him to stop.

He's like that cat who is constantly naughty, but knows it can do whatever it damned well pleases because it knows you'll never get up off the couch.

And finally... meet OC. She (either a parent or legal guardian of an unnamed Hogwarts student) is literately just here for a standard PT meeting and that's it.

She doesn't get along with Tom because they both have pretty strong personalities. Think Bridgerton Anthony and Kate.

I haven't worked much of this out other than this:

OC: (the final word from the argument) You're impossible! I don't know how even your students deal with having you as a professor. (Without saying another word, Tom rises up to his feet and walks over to the door.) Tom: I think you should leave! (He opens the door and in, immediately comes Mattheo. His hair is messy and he looks like he's been in some sort of fight.) Tom: Mattheo, not a good time! (Mattheo ignores him like always. He goes over to Tom's desk and sits down.)

Tom: Mattheo!

(Mattheo props up his feet on the desk and crosses them.)

Mattheo: Ooooh, biscuits!

(Mattheo grabs a plate of biscuits that had been meant for the parents for PT day and immediately starts munching on them.)

Mattheo:(talking with his mouth full) So... are you single?

OC: I'm a bit old for you, don't you think?

Mattheo: What? No, ew! Not me, my brother! He talks about you all the time [then exaggerated] All. The. Time.

(Tom's eye twitches.)

I'll end it right here. At first, I hated the idea of Mattheo having an older brother but it's now growing on me.

I'm not gonna lie, it's because of Tom Hughes. That man is gorgeous and convince me of anything.

I have this gnawing idea of Mattheo seeing his brother who doesn't really have much of a life outside of being DADA professor and raising him and he thinks to himself "hey, I wanna change that."

Not because he thinks his big brother might be lonely or anything like that, but because he wants leverage over his big brother.