Supersonic| Zayn Malik |AU

❝Death is inevitable. It's a promise made to us at birth.❞

Arielle is a studious young woman striving to be a chef. Her life is full of going to class, reading textbooks, and hanging out with her friends, until she meets Zayn. Zayn's an illegal street racer, and he wants her, but he's dangerous. He comes tumbling into her life, and everything is suddenly strewn about. What happens when one of Arielle's friends falls for her? What happens when Zayn gets twisted up with the wrong people? It's a story about lust, lies, and a love that develops at supersonic speeds, but suffers dire consequences.

➳ In which he loves nothing more than cars and winning, until he meets her.

WARNING: This story has scenes of violence, mature content, sexual content, drug use/references and foul language, so please read at your own discretion

Started: January 30, 2014
Completed: October 29, 2016



19. Eighteen

☠ Chapter Eighteen ☠  


Pre-chapter A/N: this entire chapter is written as a flashback, just to avoid any confusion, enjoy! x



I shake and sway my hips to the beat. I feel soft hands grip the exposed skin just above my hips. His soft hands grip my skin just a little too harshly and I end up sucking air through my teeth because of the pain. It becomes apparent that he didn't hear my gasp of pain when his fingers dig deeper into my skin.

I push my ass roughly into his front, resulting in a low grunt in my ear. I hear a curse word fall from his lips before the front of his jeans becomes tight. He uses a finger to push my sweaty hair back. He leans in close to my ear, his hot breath coming out in an erratic pattern as he practically humps me from behind. 

I feel his eyes burning a hole into the back of my head. He places a sloppily drunk kiss to my neck and his hands start roaming up my shirt. His one hand manages to squeeze my left breast, and it seems as though the tightness in his jeans becomes more prominent. I turn around in his grasp, his hands come to rest on my ass without delay.

I finally take in the appearance of the man I've been dancing with for the last few minutes or so. I could do better. He's blonde, his eyes are a wild green colour, and his skin is dark and tanned. I note that he's a really unattractive Charlie Hunnam look-a-like. I totally didn't think it was possible to look slightly like Charlie Hunnam and be unattractive, but this guy had it nailed down.

His hair is long and I run my fingers through it, giving it a light tug. He throws his head back and I watch his Adam's apple slowly bob up and down.

His hands roughly grab my ass and he looks down at me hungrily. He leans towards me and starts peppering kisses on my neck. I stand up on my tippy-toes and thread my fingers through his long hair. I stare off behind him. His kisses are sloppy and wet, his moans that I can barely hear aren't turning me on, and his hands are touching my body, but not in the way that I need to be touched. I feel his teeth nibbling on my ear, but I want no more of this boy, I want a man.

I force him to look at me, attempting to yell over the music. He doesn't hear me and so I point at the bar, signalling that I’m getting a drink. He nods his head and points down at the floor, indicating that he's staying right where he is. 

I saunter away from him and towards the bar. When the bartender notices me at the end he nods his head in my direction and busily begins making my usual. I turn around, leaning up against the bar-top. I need someone new to play with. There's a man leaning up against the bar beside me, but I notice a wedding ring. That's not exactly a deal breaker, considering he's wildly smirking at me right now, but his beard is thick and tattered and his hands are small and frankly I'm not turned on.

I notice another man standing near the washrooms. His hair is blonde, curly, shaved at the sides. I watch a woman walk out of the bathroom and he stares at her ass as she walks away from him. He seems like the perfect candidate. He lifts a glass to his lips and the blue-coloured girly drink makes its way down his throat. Okay, looking like less of a candidate now. A curvy woman walks up to him and his eyes go wide - he's done for. His lips curl into a smile and he's immediately hooked. I guess he's out.

I scan the room before I hear a noise behind me. When I turn around the bartender has placed my drink on the top. I throw the money down and grab the glass between my hands, turning once again to scout the talent. That's when I notice a man standing against the far wall. He's obviously here looking for someone as well.

His hair is dark and styled upwards. His jawline is sharp and peppered with dark stubble. He's wearing black jeans, a white shirt, and a leather jacket with heavy army-like boots upon his feet. He's biting his lip as he stares at the women before him, almost predatory in a way. But when he notices me eyeing him up his lips curl into a wicked little smirk. His eyes go dark and it's not long before he's taking quick steps towards me. I finish my drink and put it back on the bar-top behind me as I wait for the sexily mysterious stranger to approach me.

He's walking with such confidence as he makes his way across the bar. "Now what is a pretty little thing like you doing all the way over here by yourself?" He asks, accent thick in his voice.

"Guess I just haven't found the one yet." His reaction is quick and his lips curl into another smirk.

"The one what, baby?" He takes a step towards me. He knows exactly what I'm talking about, he's just a tease. I don't answer him and he takes another step forward, placing his hands on the bar-top on either side of my body. I look down at his hands, his knuckles are stained in cuts, bruises, and a dash of blood. God how I wish those fingers were inside of me right now. "You know, me and you could have some real fun tonight, baby," he whispers in my ear, voice dripping with lust.

"What kind of fun?" I tease. 

He catches on and his hands grip my hips roughly, pulling me to him. I feel his hands roam the skin on my back and he looks down, staring at the exposed flesh of my breasts. He leans close to me, placing his lips at the shell of my ear, "sweaty," his hands move upwards on my body, "naked," his teeth graze my ear, "fun," his teeth grab my ear and he pulls lightly, while his hands graze the bottom of my bra.

"I could make you purr like a kitten baby," he whispers in my ear. His one hand makes its way around my body and it goes up my shirt, roughly groping my one breast. This is a man.

"There's a difference between telling me, and showing me," I place my hands on his chest, my one hand dancing along his toned stomach. I look up at his eyes, which have become a sea of dark caramel. My eyes scan his face, eventually falling on his lips, which are absolutely sinful.

He raises a single eyebrow. "Your place, or mine?" I ask. His focus is fixated on me for a moment as he thinks. He doesn't answer me, he just grabs my wrist hastily and pulls me out of the bar. I follow him to a beautiful red Skyline. He opens the door and stands behind it, staring at me. I have to stop and gawk at the beauty before me. His car. Him. His hair is softly blowing in the warm Miami air. "This is your car?"

He nods his head, and grabs a pair of aviator sunglasses from inside the car, placing them onto his face. "Let's go," he demands before getting into the car and bringing her to life. I recklessly run towards the car and open the door. I stare open-mouthed at the Sparco racing seats, the steel roll cage, the massive spoiler that hangs off the rear of the car. This car is almost as beautiful as the man who's driving it. I get into the bucket-shaped seat and sit back. He revs the engine a few times and looks at me wildly. His hand immediately plants itself on my naked thigh, and he works his way upwards.

He moves the car into drive and begins recklessly driving through the streets, all the while his right hand is making its way down the front of my shorts. His fingers make their way past the barriers and he begins rubbing quick circles at my centre. I throw my head back and breath into nothing, as his fingers work magic.

He pulls another two quick corners and stops the car. I get out of the car and he does the same, we quickly make our way up the walkway and into the house. When we're inside the house I push him up against the wall. Instinctively I aim to kiss his lips, but he quickly darts forward and his lips attack the skin on my neck. I fist my fingers in his hair. When he nibbles on my ear a moan falls from my lips.

He backs away from me and starts pulling the jacket off his body, a smirk playing across his lips. He yanks the sunglasses off his face. He begins stepping backwards, further into the house. He pulls his shirt over his head. I immediately reach forward to touch his skin.

He reaches for the hem of my shirt and he quickly pulls it over my head with ease, tossing it into the room behind him. He backs up into a room and I follow him in. He turns around, closing the door and locking the handle. I grab either side of my jean shorts and he watches me hungrily as I sway my hips side to side - removing the material from my body.

He takes slow steps towards me, his features dark. He places his hands on my hips and his lips attack the flesh of my neck again. His mouth begins drawing blood to the surface of my skin. He takes a few steps forward, causing me to back up until the backs of my knees hit the edge of the mattress. His lips detach themselves from my neck, and he gives me a light push - causing me to fall with ease onto the bed before him. 

He stands there, staring at me for a moment. I watch his tongue dart out from between his lips. His teeth slowly and seductively grab his lip. I sit up on the bed and reach for the waistband of his jeans. With my fingers inside, I pull him towards me, emitting a low chuckle. I reach for the button and unfasten it. Putting my hands inside, I tug his jeans down. His erection welcomes me under his boxers.

I quickly tug down his boxers and he places either of his hands on my shoulders, pushing me back down onto the bed. He grabs hold of my panties, pulling them down. I reach for the hook on my bra, undoing it, and tossing it into the pile of our clothes.

He hurriedly puts a condom on himself and I make my way backwards on the bed. He crawls onto the bed and hovers overtop of me. Without delay he thrusts into me. I throw my head back, putting my hands on his back and raking my fingers into his skin. He stares at my body while relentlessly pounding into me. When I fist my fingers through his hair, I feel the build up of perspiration which is already apparent on his body.

He thrusts into me a few more times and I feel my release, unravelling into a pool of nothing before him. His eyes fixate on my chest until he too feels his release. He rolls off of me and stands to his feet, disposing of the worn condom. I watch him pull his boxers onto his legs.

I stand up and grab my bra and panties, placing them on and standing before him. "I'm Kit, by the way." I state, trying to break some of the awkwardness that has suddenly fallen between us.

"Zayn," he says aloud, his hands placed on the dresser as he stares at me in the reflection of the mirror.

I look around the room until I find a notepad and a pen. I handwrite my name and my phone number onto it. When I turn around he's wearing his jeans, lighting up a cigarette with his back to me. I pull on my shorts and my shirt, standing before him in silence. "You weren't lying when you said we'd have fun," I say seductively in an attempt to get his attention.

He turns around then, blowing smoke past his lips. He doesn't say anything, he just stands there in a thick cloud of white.

I take a few steps towards him, "I wrote my number down," I point to the side table, "in case you ever want to get together again."

"Copacetic," his face is dark.

I shyly stand before him. "What're you still doing here baby?" He asks harshly.

I open my mouth to speak, but close it when I realize I have nothing to say. I look away from him and out the window before walking towards his doorway. I open the door and walk out, looking back into the room before exiting the house.

I watch him walk over to the side table, rip the top paper off the notepad, read it, and then toss it into the wastebasket carelessly, shaking his head. 



in response to the drama going on with zayn, i'd just like to point out the fact that this is a STORY. it has nothing to do with the going's on of his life (he doesn't even drive) - nor was it based on his life. everything in here is absolutely 100% fictional. i'm not going to say anything in regards to whatever's going on with him because frankly it isn't my business, but i do hope that he uses this time given to him wisely and productively to do whatever needs to be done, whether that be healing, relaxing, whatever. i do wish him well, and hope that his health improves. (so please guys, stop creating drama and just let him do whatever he needs to do!!!!)



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