#Zyair Malloy fanfic | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

megamindsecretlair · 4 months

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baby after watching this can we get more trevante pleeaasseee 😫😫 i ain’t good with giving request at all but shy reader that rocks his world 😭😩

A/N: I'm not sure if this will satisfy this. Please tell me if it doesn't, because baby....you ain't right for that video! How about a little corruption kink to go with that shy-ish reader?

Masterlist Chapter 2

Pairing: Dom!Zyair Malloy x Lawyer!Black!Fem!/ Plus Size reader

Warnings: 18+, Minors DNI, You are in charge of your own reading experience. Intentional use of AAVE. Slow burn. Corruption kink, minor D/s elements, power imbalance, all consensual. Some mentions of violence.

Summary: When Zyair Malloy, an artist accused of killing his ex-girlfriend, walks into your office, you want to throw him out. However, he's caught you at a time when you're beginning to fight for a different life for yourself. Zyair awakens things in you that you never thought you were capable of. Will you survive it?

Word Count: 4,036k

A/N: Whew lordt, let's see where this little series takes me. Not sure how long it'll be, but lemme know if you want to hop off this ride! Please, please consider commenting and reblogging to help support writers! And please put ages in bios! Or get blockt!

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“Are you fucking serious?” You snapped into the phone, staring at your computer screen. Ever since your no-good husband fucked off his job, you took a more proactive role in looking at your finances. No longer a two-income household, you were back to budgeting and making your money stretch.

You weren’t poor by any means, thank goodness, but you couldn’t ball out anymore whenever you wanted. No more expensive food deliveries or restaurants, no more spa days, no more impromptu trips on the weekends or after a major case.

“What?” Your husband asked, like the idiot didn’t know what you were talking about.

“You bought your mom that expensive ass necklace with my money?” You hissed. You felt like crying. Every day, your husband, Kal, made you feel small. Or like you were going crazy. You didn’t want to turn into a screaming harpy every time he did something. But he was always doing something.

“It was her birthday,” Kal said defensively, having the nerve to get huffy.

“Kal–” You cut yourself off. You gripped the phone tightly, the sides pressing into your palms enough to hurt.

You heard your name called behind you and you turned around to see your assistant, Callie, standing beside a large man. He filled up the entirety of your office door, standing like a dark spector in all black and black shades pushed up to his head.

Callie looked haggard, out of breath, as she pleaded with you with her eyes. You didn’t know how long they had been standing there or how much they heard. Kal was in the middle of some bullshit excuse about not being shown up by his older brother.

You hung up in his face, saving your energy for the fight you were bound to have at home. You opened your arms to Callie, indicating what the hell she thought she was doing letting a stranger into your office. Especially when you told her to clear at least an hour for the verbal tongue lashing you planned to give to Kal.

“I tried to stop him. I told him you were in a meeting–”

The man pushed forward with a mean swagger to his step. He approached you and held out his hand. “I’m Zyair Malloy,” he said.

You looked from his outstretched hand to the man himself. The name sounded familiar but you were still in “bitch” mode. A bubble of heated emotions with nowhere to direct it to. Too bad. He was attractive. With rich, dark skin, a neat beard, and a sense of style. He had a neat smile as well, instantly putting you at ease.

The problem was, you didn’t want to be at ease. You wanted to rage and scream. You were hurting and you wanted the world to stop for a minute and comfort you. Tell you that you weren’t crazy and you deserved some type of retribution for the shit you put up with.

“You can’t barge in here. If you want to make an appointment–”

“I need you,” he said, cutting you off, which you hated. His words, however, had the opposite effect and you felt your body heat up in strange ways. “I need the best lawyer and that’s you.”

“Mr. Malloy–”

“Zyair,” he said, cutting you off again.

You narrowed your eyes and put your hands on your hips. “Mr. Malloy, this is a bad time,” you said.

“Zyair,” he said again, giving you a small smile. “Maddy said you were the best. After you helped him with Vinny, he can’t sing your praises loud enough.”

Now it started to make a bit of sense. You vaguely remembered Maddy mentioning something about this man, something about him needing a lawyer. After getting a stiff drink to deal with the dinner, you barely remembered anything. It still boggled the mind how Kal and Ray came from someone as sweet as their mother.

You liked your mother-in-law. It was a rare sentence, but after all she’d been through, you kind of understood why she protected her boys so tough. Their dad absconded with his secretary, leaving the boys and their mother to fend for themselves. She did have a problem with your best friend and sister-in-law, Charlise. You’d never been able to get to the bottom of it, and you asked Charlise at least once a week.

“Mr. Malloy,” you started, placing emphasis on his last name. “This isn’t a good time like I said.”

“Hear me out. Five minutes of your time and I’ll compensate you for it. Just…please,” he said. All amusement left him. He looked into your eyes and you found your resolve weakening with every breath that passed.

Hell. It would be the easiest five minutes you got paid for. You nodded to Callie and she breathed a sigh of relief, leaving your office and leaving you alone with Zyair. Your phone buzzed in your hand, Kal calling you back. You had a number of missed messages. He hated when you hung up on him. Good. Bitch nigga.

You pointed to the chair in front of your desk and walked around to your side, grabbing the chair and sitting in it. You had a gorgeous office, with clear walls and an amazing view of the Chicago skyline. You worked damn hard to get here and you were not cheap.

“I should warn you that five minutes will cost you, Mr. Malloy,” you said. He looked like he had a bit of money, but again, you weren’t cheap.

He relaxed into the chair as if he owned it. As if he dragged it into the room behind him and plopped down. Like a king surrendering to a temporary throne. He cleared his throat. “I’m being accused of killing my ex-girlfriend,” he said.

“Did you do it?” You asked.

He startled, blinking a few times at you. “I thought lawyers didn’t ask those type of questions,” he said.

“I’m not most lawyers. Doesn’t matter if you did. Everyone’s entitled to a defense and I can’t do my job without the full picture. I don’t like being blindsided,” you said. The absolute worst feeling in the world was being in the courtroom, caught with your pants down because the prosecutor trotted out a surprise attack. The key to a good defense was being prepared. And that meant knowing absolutely everything.

Zyair nodded like he was satisfied with the answer. As if all this time, he was silently interviewing you. It was weird. It grated. And it made you want to win his silent approval.

Maybe this had been a mistake. You were still reeling from Kal’s betrayal. The last thing you needed was a possible criminal darkening your door and confusing your feelings.

“I didn’t kill her. I swear on my life that I’m innocent,” he said.

You huffed. “Everyone’s innocent, Mr. Malloy,” you said. “Can you prove it? What do they have on you?”

“Blood found on one of my paintings. Trashed apartment. No body and my alibi…let’s say they don’t believe me,” he said.

“Where were you?” You asked. It was interesting that he was open with details except when it came to his alibi.

“A place they don’t have receipts. I value my privacy and it won’t do me any favors to offer up where I truly was,” he said.

You tapped a nail on your desk as you mulled him over. Usually, you were a better judge of character. Your discerning eye was legendary in the lawyer sphere, able to hunt through bullshit. Again, you blamed Kal. He got you so discombobulated, you couldn’t determine if Zyair was being real or not.

“Why should I take your case? A law student could defend you and get you off,” you said.

Zyair rubbed his jaw, looking out of your window for a beat before flicking his eyes back to you. “You ever feel like you’re being punished for being you? For not fitting in with the Black monolith stereotype?” He asked.

You blinked. You knew exactly how that felt. Like every room you entered was a battleground and you had to assess it like a war general. And yet, at the end of the day, you were too Black, too aggressive, too quiet, too mean, too sassy, or too bossy for someone and they concluded that you were evil incarnate.

You stared at Zyair long enough for him to continue. “I have…dark tastes. And I’m not always able to find partners who share those tastes. My artwork, my way of thinking, my…identity is other. And once you’re other you’re…”

“Nothing,” you finished.

Zyair nodded. “I live fast, live hard, and love even harder. It can be strange from the outside looking in and I feel like I’m getting a raw deal because of that. Not because I actually did anything to anybody. I have no priors. I’m not out here in the streets living like a diva, getting arrested every other Tuesday. I just want to do art and I don’t wanna lose that shit because the DA got it out for me.”

You choked on a laugh. “The DA?” It was truly amazing how people told on themselves the longer you allowed them to talk. “Did you approach me because the DA is prosecting this?”

This fucking family. You wanted to throw your sofa threw the glass window. Which would be quite a feat since the glass was reinforced and the couch weighed hundreds of pounds. You stared at it. It was a really comfy, teal sofa. Oftentimes, when working on a case, you laid on it and lamented about the state of the case before you or Jimmy managed to find a hail Mary.

“Yes. And because you’re the best lawyer in Chicago,” he said and managed a saucy smile. You rolled your eyes, fighting a smile of your own. At least he was honest about that.

You took a deep breath, sighing audibly for his benefit. You weren’t completely sold. But you did have a little devil on your shoulder telling you to take the case just to spite Ray. Just to stare at him from across the dinner table and watch him sit and stew about how he couldn’t order you around.

“If I take this case, Mr. Malloy–”

“Thank you!” He said, grinning wide. Fuck. His smile was gorgeous. He could be a movie star if he truly wanted to with a smile like that. It managed to be flirty and mysterious at the same time. Like he was sitting on a secret and teased you about it.

“If I take this case, we have to get some things clear,” you said and raised your eyebrows. Zyair stopped smiling and folded his hands in his lap. The picture perfect attentive listener.

“I am not your friend. I’m not your therapist. I’m not your sister, your mother, your cousin, your bartender, or your rabbi. If I do this, I need the truth. No matter how uncomfortable you are. No matter how embarrassing. I can’t defend you with one arm tied behind my back.”

To his credit, he didn’t interrupt this time. “If I take your case, my word is law. Will that be a problem?”

Zyair visibly relaxed, sinking down into your plush chair. A king indeed. “Not at all. I love taking orders,” he said.

You narrowed your eyes at him. You were pretty sure he was flirting. Hell, it’d been so long since you were flirted with you were starting to lose your touch. “And I’m definitely not someone who’s going to sleep with you, Mr. Malloy.”

Zyair held up his hands with another one of those devastating smiles. “Wouldn’t dream of it,” he said.

You knew he was full of shit and yet… “I’m going to think about it. You can leave your payment with my assistant that you bullied,” you said.

“Yes, ma’am. I also want to apologize for barging in. I’ll apologize to your assitant as well.” He stood up, fixing his sweater around his broad shoulders. Someone that damn fine shouldn’t be allowed to wear all black. With his complexion, the black outfit seemed to melt into his skin. And highlight it at the same time.

“Leave your contact information as well. If I take the case, I’ll let you know.”

“I look forward to hearing from you.” He gave you one last, smug smile before turning and leaving your office.

It was probably a mistake to entertain this foolishness. You watched his retreating form, heading to Callie’s desk to speak to her. You watched as he moved, as he interacted with others. He wasn’t a man used to hearing the word “no”.

You weren’t sure how well this will play out. Already, he seemed to grate on your nerves as he was unable to let you have the last word. You could see yourself butting heads with him a lot.

You fired off a quick text to Jimmy to meet you in your office. A moment later, Jimmy breezed into the room.

Jimmy was reliable. That was one of his most redeeming qualities. And he was just as shady as you needed him to be. You relied on him a bit too much, but he never seemed to mind. Even when you had him doing off the books investigations like determining if your husband was cheating on you or not.

It was one thing to have a deadbeat husband who wouldn’t do better but he still loved you. It was an entirely different thing to have a deadbeat husband who wouldn’t do better because he was balls deep in some other bitch.

Jimmy sat in the seat that Zyair previously occupied and rested one leg over his knee. He was a man that reminded you of a puppy some days. Fidgety and playful, he couldn’t sit still sometimes. “What’s up, boss?” He asked.

You leaned back in your seat and crossed your legs. “I need everything you can dig up on Zyair Malloy…”

Early dinner with the family. Yay. You snuck a glass of wine as Charlise finished setting the table. You helped, setting out dishes that Charlise spent all day cooking.

“This smells incredible, Char,” you said. The saucy, herb-like aroma filled your nostrils and made your mouth water. Despite your attitude, Ray and Charlise had a beautiful home with a nice kitchen. They had to; they had beautiful children to look after.

You shared an apartment with Kal. An expensive apartment with a beautiful view. Lately though, it seemed more like a gilded cage. Some days, you swore the walls were closing in on you. Just for you to blink and realize that the walls were perfectly fine.

“Thanks, sis,” she said with a tight smile. Likely gearing up for whatever criticism was coming her way.

“Char,” you started.

“Wonderful timing! Isn’t it a little early to be drinking?” Ray boomed, waltzing into the dining room like he was king of the castle. Funny how him walking into the room paled in comparison to Zyair. There was a commanding presence surrounding Zyair. Whereas Ray seemed like a kid playing in his father’s suits and ties.

“Isn’t a little early to be a dick?” You shot back, taking a sip of your wine and smiling at him over the rim.

He sighed, staring at you as you did so. You knew he wanted to say something nasty. Something to get your chest burning with rage as you fought not to scratch his eyes out. He was saved from saying anything as his mother, Azalea, and Kal walked into the room as well.

Ray didn’t spare his wife a glance as he held out the chair for his mother to sit down at the head of the table. Ray and Kal sat on either side of her, leaving you and Charlise to sit across from each other, next to your respective man. It left you without an ally to whisper to while Azalea talked about living the retired life.

She was a sweet woman when she wanted to be, but she genuinely needed a hobby that did not include meddling in her son’s lives. Looking at them together, it made your heart ache to see how much love and respect flowed through them.

You and Charlise often talked about how hard it was to enter their orbit. You got it. They only had each other. But it often made you feel alienated, like you weren’t allowed in the cool club.

“Thank you for showing up tonight. Food actually looks good tonight,” Azalea said. You opened your mouth, ready to defend your sister. But Charlise caught your eye and shook her head.

Bless her. Charlise let these people walk all over her. You wanted to shake her. Didn’t she have any kind of self-respect? Didn’t she want to be happy in her marriage, speaking her mind? Who cared if these people got upset?

No woman in history ever became happy by biting her tongue and cowing to a man. You backed down however. You didn’t want to make Charlise uncomfortable in her own house.

“I wanted you to hear it from me, that I’m running for Mayor of Chicago,” Ray said. Bowls were starting to get passed around and you stared at Ray. Was he fucking serious?

“That’s amazing, bro!” Kal said. With is goofy ass. You couldn’t help rolling your eyes at your man. His hero worship of his brother smooth got on your nerves. And you weren’t done being mad at him for the necklace fiasco.

After a royally fucked up argument between you, he retreated to the living room to play video games all night. Giggling and shit into the microphone. Was he twelve or a grown ass man?

The argument went no where and you spent the next few days in a quiet, cold apartment unwilling to tolerate being in the same room as him.

“This new case is going to get me there. Once I bury that bastard Zyair Malloy – excuse my language, Mother – I’m all but a sure win. We need to crack down on crime and painting him as the monster he is will be the icing on top.”

Azalea clapped her hands, grinning from ear to ear, pleased with her son’s ambitions. You played with the idea of blurting out that you were defending him. Jimmy turned up quite a bit about Zyair. Enough to make you curious about how he spent his time when he wasn’t showing off his artwork in galleries or attending fundraisers for the arts.

You didn’t see anything too incriminating in the online stuff. In private, Jimmy tracked him to his studio and to his home. There wasn’t many instances that Zyair was caught out partying. Doubly so now that he was accused of murder. The press was having a field day with “Dreamboat Turned Killer”.

“I’m thinking about defending him,” you announced, taking a sip of wine. The table quieted as everyone looked at you.

Azalea was the first to giggle. “Oh sweetie, don’t say that. You can’t try the case against your brother-in-law. Isn’t that a conflict of interest?” Azalea looked between you and Ray. The both of you were currently locked in a stare down.

He blinked first and you hid a smirk behind another sip of wine. You’d have to ask Charlise what the hell she bought. This type of sweet red had you feeling more reckless than usual.

“I’m sure we can be professional. Wouldn’t you agree?” You asked.

“What the hell are you doing?” Kal hissed. You ignored him, still staring at Ray. He smiled, seemingly at ease. But you saw the crease in the corners of his eyes. The way his mouth tightened.

“You’re not defending him,” he barked.

You giggled. You began to dig into your food. You took your time swirling the spaghetti noodles around your spoon and then bringing it to your lips. You were on the fence but now you weren’t. It was petty to take a case because someone said you couldn’t. But a part of you was reaching your limit with Ray and his overbearing, egotistical ways. Men like him couldn’t snap his fingers and expect you to hop to.

“Yes, I am. You just convinced me. Thank you so much, Ray,” you said. You were the only one eating. That was fine. Charlise looked at you as if you’d lost your mind.

Perhaps you did. You hadn’t told her about Kal’s fuck up and it was killing you. You were more ashamed than anything else. More hurt that your once perfect life was crumbling before your eyes and you couldn’t do anything about it. The least you could do was have fun on the way down.

Ray chuckled. “You must not have heard me. You’re not defending him.”

You continued to chew as if he didn’t lay down another order. When you were done, you wiped your mouth with the napkin. “Yes, I am.”

“Baby–” Kal said. You held up a hand to hold him off. There was nothing his bitch ass could say to sway you at the moment. With the way you were feeling, you were liable to spill his little secret too. That his junkie ass was getting high off of his own damn supply.

“Do you have any idea what kind of shit storm this would kick up if my sister-in-law defends the same man I’m sending to prison?”

“You sound pretty sure of yourself, that he’s going to prison. With me defending him, he’s probably going to get a personal apology from the real Mayor,” you said.

Was that vein thumping in his temple? You watched his jaw flex as he chuckled again.

“You are –”

“I have cancer!” Azalea shouted.

You dropped your fork and spoon onto your plate, a loud clanging sound ringing out. Azalea huffed, fresh tears welling into her eyes. “Oh, please don’t fight! I shouldn’t have just blurted that out. But…we’re family at the end of the day,” she said. She cut a scathing look at Charlise. “Most of us anyway.”

“Mother, what do you mean?” Kal asked.

She leaned her hands forward, palms up. Kal and Ray took one of her hands in theirs. She sniffled a bit, looking back and forth between them. “I have cancer, my babies. I hadn’t been feeling well…” She trailed off and shook her head. “I’m not sure what stage I am or…oh, it’s so overwhelming. There’s so many tests my doctor wants to run. Anyway. I don’t want us to fight, okay?”

She looked at you, fresh little tears in her eyes that miraculously hadn’t fell yet. You felt awful for thinking it, but you weren’t always sure your mother-in-law was as sweet as she seemed to be. There were moments, often like this one, where she always had clever words. Clever delivery too. Moments where she seemed like a shark, biding her time in the water until some hapless fish happened by.

Just as easily, she looked so small and frail sandwiched between her sons, swallowed up by their hugs and their concern. She patted their hands and reassured them that she was fine, that they didn’t have to worry so much, and that this shouldn’t distract Ray from his big, important case or run for Mayor.

You picked up your wine, finishing it in one fell swoop. You shared a glance with Charlise. She didn’t seem to buy the whole act either. You made a mental note to finally get to the bottom of what happened between them. What happened to turn Azalea against Charlise?

You sat back, looking at the mother and her sons comforting each other. Their worry was palpable. You offered your own condolences, but you felt like you were intruding on a private moment. Wasn’t the first time you felt like that around them.

You dug back into your food and thought through defense strategies for Zyair. This case was important, you could feel it. You only hoped that you could defend him to the best of your ability. Just so you could see the look on Ray’s face in the courtroom.

Masterlist | Chapter 2

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