@OtsLots

Lottie

Yes Professor. || D.M

You spent years being the top of the class because you wanted to be the best, getting into the best university to study French. But when Professor Malfoy is your lecturer. French isn't the only thing that takes over your life.

Office Hours

You worked tirelessly for years to earn your spot at the top university—never missing a deadline, never letting your grades slip, and falling completely in love with the way French curls off your tongue. Then came Professor Malfoy. At forty-two, Draco Malfoy is intimidating, heavily tattooed beneath his tailored tweed, and undeniably married. Yet you’ve caught the way his cold silver eyes flick over your legs when you cross them in the front row, twirling his gold wedding ring out of sheer, restless frustration. You know he leans over your desk just to let his crisp peppermint scent flood your senses while whispering French corrections against your ear—watching the exact breathless effect he has on you. When his estranged wife leaves for Geneva for the winter, Draco offers you a private research assistantship translating 18th-century French letters at his quiet London townhouse twice a week. Working late into the evening stretches his restraint to its absolute breaking point—especially when a jealous, tenured colleague threatens to report you both to the University Ethics Board unless you walk away from Draco for good. Draco won't let anyone touch your future—and he’s more than willing to tear off his ring and burn his family fortune to the ground to prove it. "Je ne veux personne d'autre dans ma maison, {Y/N}. Dis-moi oui."

Ninety Days at Blackwood

At twenty-two, Ottilie "Tilly" Fleur Vittorie Oster expects a quiet life of baking and archival work—not a summons to an isolated Gothic manor on the Yorkshire moors to hear her estranged grandfather’s will. The terms are non-negotiable: to inherit a single penny, Ottilie must live at Blackwood Manor for ninety consecutive days alongside Draco Malfoy—a forty-two-year-old, heavily tattooed former black-ops enforcer with scarred knuckles, dead-cold gray eyes, and blood on his hands. If either leaves early, the entire fortune defaults to Ottilie’s greedy, ruthless uncle. Ottilie wants to walk away—until Draco reveals her grandfather was poisoned, and hired killers are already closing in to eliminate the last surviving heir. Trapped together inside a sprawling estate cut off by winter storms and family secrets, Ottilie refuses to blindly trust the terrifying mercenary sharing her roof. Yet as assassins breach the gates and a deadly laundering conspiracy comes to light in the manor’s archives, Draco’s hair-trigger brutality becomes the only thing standing between Ottilie and a shallow grave. "You shouldn't trust me, Miss Oster. If you did, I'd assume you were an idiot."