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thatbloodymuggle · 5 years ago

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READY TO RUN (i)

ONE - MEZZO

read the prologue first!!

SUMMARY: in a world where everyone has a predetermined match, JJ Maybank and Y/N Montgomery want nothing to do with theirs. it has to be a cruel joke; the universe forcing two people to love each other when they don’t know how.

PAIRING: jj maybank x reader / soulmate au

WORD COUNT: 4.6k

MASTERLIST

SONG: TCHAIKOVSKY 6 ROMANCES, OP. 6, NO.6, NONE BUT THE LONELY HEART

(via https://open.spotify.com/track/5Lu8b219dLR4TYpsxcwn2w?si=uk5gTeXHTXK5Q0EJCJ_gwg)

✰✰✰

Soulmate bonds are an incomprehensible phenomenon. Every individual is destined, by some ineffable force, to be with another, with few documented abnormalities. The soulmate bond is puzzling to even the most decorated of scientists. It defies all areas of logic. No use of physics, biology, or chemistry can explain why two humans can feel each other, both emotionally and physically, even on opposite ends of the globe.

The bond begins as a weak, tugging feeling during childhood. Occasional pinches of pain lasting no longer than a minute have been the most well-documented early signs. During adolescence, the pain becomes clearer. Twinges of stabbing pain evolve into what may be a punch, scratch, or broken bone. Although the pain becomes more distinct, the skin remains unscathed. After puberty, the ability to feel the soulmate's emotions develops: joy, grief, embarrassment, anger. The progression from physically feeling one's soulmate to emotionally feeling them as well is perhaps the biggest adjustment of the soulmate bond.

The soulmate bond grows stronger the closer one is to their other half. When in close proximity of one another, soulmates may be able to feel the faintest of touches on each other's skin. The connection is strongest immediately before discovering one's other half; so strong, they may even be able to feel their soulmate's heartbeat.

Some may know their soulmate for years, but not discover their connection immediately. The bond can be difficult to decipher—namely for those soulmate pairs who don't feel pain often. These cases are much more common than many experts believe.

But everyone is destined to find their soulmate. And no feeling can possibly amount to the absolute bliss of touching one's soulmate for the first time. Upon the first touch, a previously broken bond becomes complete. Some describe it as a current of electricity, a wave of euphoria, a—

You slammed the book shut with a frown.

"Load of bullshit," you grumbled while flipping through the old, tattered book. The pages seemed to stick to your fingers, and your head spun as you skimmed the original copy of The Science Behind Soulmate Bonds.

"Y/N!"

A screeching voice echoed throughout the mansion and resounded from the surrounding walls of the library. You jumped in shock, nearly ripping a page out of the old book. You scrambled to shove it back in its place in the alphabetized shelves and swung your bag over your shoulder.

"Coming!"

You glided through the second-floor hallway, but stopped abruptly as you approached the grand staircase. Your mother stood at the bottom of the grand staircase, her foot tapping impatiently against the marble floor.

"You're late," she raised her freshly-plucked brows at her daughter.

"Sorry, Mom," you smiled sheepishly, but Margaret Montgomery's eyes only narrowed further.

You braced herself to hop onto the staircase railing and slide down, but the menacing look in your mother's eyes stopped you. Instead, you hurried down the marble stairs, one step at a time. Your mother swiftly turned and walked towards the front door, her heels clicking against the polished ground. You trailed behind, white tennis skirt bouncing. You followed her out the grand entrance of the mansion and towards the circling driveway where her 2018 Bentley Bentayga was waiting for her. You climbed into the passenger seat of the expensive SUV.

"Your sisters were both driving when they were 16," Margaret Montgomery grumbled in complaint.

You sighed, but kept your mouth shut. Your mother always managed to sneak in a snarky comment about how you had failed her driver's test 3 times now and what an inconvenience it was to drive you around.

Silence filled the car as Margaret pulled out of the driveway and stopped at the gated entrance to punch in the code. The gates slowly swung open, and you watched as the car pulled out onto the street and began its journey across Figure Eight.

"Mom?" you turned to face your mother as you remembered the text Kate had sent you earlier.

She hummed, but didn't look back at you. You took her silence as a sign to continue.

"Topper's having a get-together at his house tonight for his birthday." You made sure not to call it a party. "Can I go?"

You watched intently as your mother scrunched her nose and the corner of her lips turned downwards.

"Kate and Anna will be there. They said they'd give me a ride," you quickly added.

You knew how much your mother loved the Moore and Kim families.

"I guess," Margaret replied.

You grinned at her reluctant approval. You leaned back in your seat contently and glanced out of the window, watching as you passed by white house after white house.

"What time does your lesson end today?" your mother asked with her eyes still on the road.

"3:30," you hummed.

The older woman grumbled, "I have a meeting. You'll have to walk home."

You nodded with a sigh. Although the walk was rather long, you knew better than to complain. Instead, you leaned your head against the window and subconsciously drummed your fingers against your lap to the rhythm of Beethoven's Sonata No.14 in C Sharp Minor.

✰

"Non, non, non! Measure 64. Your left hand is drowning out the melody. Sloppy!"

Madame Mercier's piercing voice made you jump in her seat. Your fingers stopped moving abruptly and you huffed, shaking your wrists.

"I'm too stiff," you grumbled.

"Well loosen up!" the French woman threw her hands in the air in exasperation, her thick accent shining through, "Chopin is rolling over in his grave."

You huffed in frustration, but ignored your teacher's gruffness. You took a deep breath to calm yourself and closed your eyes. You let your fingers fall naturally onto the keys. You sat on the bench for a moment relaxing your body before finally opening your eyes and glancing at measure 64. You exhaled one last time before letting your body take control.

Your fingers danced along the black-and-white keys, this time much more delicately with your left hand while envisioning grace and poise on your right. You tuned out the buzz of the air conditioning and Madame Mercier's blunt fingernails tapping to the beat. Your eyes fluttered shut and your fingers moved blindly as you'd known Chopin's Scherzo Op.20 No.1 in B minor for months now. Just as you let your mind completely detach from your body, a wave of pain crashed over you.

“Shit!"

Your hands shot up from the piano and clutched your right eye as some invisible force punched you. Before you could react further, your right hand started throbbing as you felt the sickening crunch of bone underneath it. Your dumbass of a soulmate seemed to have gotten into another fight.

"Aïe, conard!"

Madame Mercier shouted in frustration. She rolled up the music book beside her and whacked you repeatedly.

The pain hadn't faded from your right eye, but you glared at the old woman through your left.

"Madame, it's not my fault!"

"Of course it's not your fault, do I look stupid to you? I'm teaching them a lesson! Never interrupt my students!" Madame Mercier ignored your complaints and continued to beat your arm.

You grumbled and pulled your hands away from your eye as you'd adjusted to the throbbing pain. You put her arms up to block Madame Mercier's attack instead. The old woman grunted in frustration and threw the book down carelessly.

"That was the first time you played it right today! All for nothing. Imbécile," the old woman hissed.

This wasn't the first time your practice had been interrupted by your soulmate, although Madame Mercier only seemed to get progressively angrier each time. At least this time it was just a punch; but your hand still ached from where your other half must have punched their attacker. You felt the ghost of a hand rub your arm in the spot your teacher had repeatedly hit you. At least they'd gotten the message this time.

You flexed your right hand in an attempt to shake off the dull pain.

"I'll just start again," you grumbled.

You went to place your hands on the piano again, but Madame Mercier stopped you.

"With one hand? Pas question!" she gestured to your injured hand.

You groaned in frustration, "But I almost had it!"

"No you didn't," Madame Mercier scoffed.

You furrowed your brows in confusion, "But you just said I played it right—"

"For the first time today! Now you need to play it right 100 more times. Then you'll have it," the older woman took the liberty of gathering your sheet music and handing it to you to pack into her back, "Now you will just have to add an extra hour of practice tonight for the idiocy of your soulmate."

You sighed but nodded.

Anger bubbled in the pit of your stomach, but it wasn't your own. You could only hope that the frustration making your head pound was strong enough for your soulmate to feel it and suffer as well.

You recollected herself and went to stand up, but were stopped by Madame Mercier.

"One last thing. We must speak about your college applications."

You frowned and your brows cinched together, "What do you mean?"

"If you plan on applying to any music programs you must begin preparing an audition now," her hard eyes stared down at you.

"Music programs? I don't know, Madame. My mom already has me talking to the lacrosse coach at South Carolina—"

"Your mother is a fool, Y/N. And you'd be one too if you threw away your God-given talent to go run around with sticks all day," the old woman gripped your arm to show how serious she was.

You diverted your gaze to the piano in front of you as the intensity of the older woman's eyes made you shift in your seat, "It's not exactly my choice, Madame."

"Nonsense," the woman quipped, "You write your own applications, not your mother."

You opened your mouth to reply, but closed it as you watched the French woman rise from her seat and walk across the studio room. She rummaged through a box of files before finally pulling out a stack of pamphlets. Her ballet flats clicked against the ground as she hastily walked back over to you.

"Look through these. Show them to you parents too," she dropped the papers in your lap.

You gnawed on your bottom lip as you sorted through the packets of information. Berklee College of Music, USC, Curtis Institute of Music, NYU, Juilliard—

"Madame, these are the most selective programs in the country! They only take the best of the best," you stared up at your teacher with wide eyes.

The old woman grabbed your hand in a motherly manner, "You are the best of the best, ma chérie. I wouldn't push you to apply if you weren't."

You tried to avert her gaze, but Madame Mercier gripped you tighter, forcing your eyes back on her.

"You, you must stand up for yourself. Tell your family what you want. It matters not what they want for you, because they are not you."

You gulped, trying to force down the tightening of your throat. You tried to speak, but nothing came out. Instead, you nodded with sincerity in your eyes.

Madame Mercier took your silence as a cue to continue, "An old friend of mine who is a Juilliard talent scout will be vacationing here in a few weeks. If you impress him, you may have a great advantage in the application process."

You bounced your leg in deep thought, gazing at the piano in front of you. The air was thick with silence as you processed the information.

Madame Mercier sighed, "Edith—"

"I want it," you finally spoke up. Despite your dry throat, you spoke with unwavering confidence.

Madame chuckled softly, "I know."

She gave your hand one last squeeze before standing. You shoved the information packets into your bag before following.

"We will look through your repertoire next time. No more sports. You must focus on your playing, and your soulmate is already enough of a liability," the woman spoke sternly.

Anxiety gripped you at the thought of telling your parents you wanted to quit field hockey and lacrosse, but you nodded regardless.

"Yes, Madame. À bientôt!" you called as you exited the practice room of Madame Mercier's home and escorted yourself out.

The blistering North Carolina heat crashed over you instantly as you stepped outside. You dug your phone out of your bag to check the time.

3:39 P.M.

You huffed and hiked your bag higher on your shoulder, preparing yourself for the long walk back home. You had barely walked a block before giving into the heatwave and your own laziness. You pulled your phone out again and scrolled through your recents until you found Kate's name. You didn't hesitate to press call and held the phone up to your ear. The ringtone had nearly ended and you were just about to give up when your friend's voice sang through the phone.

"What's up?"

"I need a ride," you sighed in relief at the sound of her voice, "I promise I'll pay you back somehow."

You heard some rustling on the other end of the phone and—was that a giggle?

"Um, is now a bad time?" you spoke slowly, trying to decipher what was happening on the other end of the line.

"Oh, no! I mean—kind of. Where are you?"

"On Beech Street. Near that Italian place—"

"Topper, stop!"

Kate tried to whisper, but you caught her words and scrunched your nose in disgust and realization.

"Oh my god, never mind. Enjoy your company," you grumbled and moved the phone away from your ear.

"I'll pick you up at 8:00 for the party! Sorr—"

You ended the call with an exaggerated groan.

Since Kate and Topper realized they were soulmates one year ago, they'd been nearly inseparable. Some may find it endearing—in your opinion, Topper was just whipped and Kate severely lacked girl code (i.e. not leaving your friends stranded).

You debated calling Anna, but decided against it as you remembered your other friend was out on her family's boat for the day. You threw your head back in frustration, but began your walk back home regardless. The quicker you got there, the quicker you could finish the practice that had been cut short.

As you strolled along the sidewalk, you let your mind wander to Madame Mercier and the Juilliard talent scout. Butterflies erupted in your stomach at the thought of speaking to your parents about it. The pamphlets in your bag seemed to weigh heavier with each step.

In an ideal world, you would jump at the opportunity to study piano professionally. But unfortunately, your life wasn't yours to live. You knew how pathetic it sounded; always following Mommy and Daddy's rules. Kate and Anna constantly pushed you to rebel, and you did every once in a while. But only over futile things: staying out past curfew, missing field hockey practice for a piano recital, indulging in a caloric late-night snack. You already felt you were dancing on thin ice with these little things. You couldn't imagine how your parents would react when you told them you wanted to quit both field hockey and lacrosse to pursue the arts in college.

You had never considered yourself a shy person. You exuded confidence around the club, Kook parties, and your private school. But no matter how hard you tried, how long you spent building up the courage to confront your parents, you never could. It was immensely frustrating and kept you up at night.

You walked faster as your thoughts escalated. Soon enough, the gates to the Montgomery Mansion were just yards away. You didn't hesitate to punch in the code and run across the lawn towards the grand entrance.

You didn't bother to check who else was home as you made a beeline for the ballroom. You entered the large room and swung the doors shut behind you for some privacy. You carelessly tossed your bag to the ground and sighed as the weight was literally lifted from your shoulders. The noise echoed throughout the spacious room, as did the tapping of your feet against the marble floor. You plopped down onto the piano bench of the grand Steinway in the center of the extravagant room. You didn't bother to retrieve any of your sheet music or books, and instead opted for the hundreds of notes floating in your brain. You closed your eyes and took a deep breath in, letting your fingers fall upon the polished keys. The pain in your right hand had faded, and although your eye was still throbbing, you let go. Your body took over and your mind took a backseat, only hoping you wouldn't get interrupted this time.

✰

"Oh my god."

"He's such a frat boy."

You, Kate, and Anna stared at Topper's house with your jaws dropped. Sure, he'd hosted some pretty big parties before, but none even close to this magnitude.

Lights were flashing, music was blasting, and the house was filled to the brim with wasted teens. Topper must have invited every single Kook under the age of 25 on Figure Eight.

"He really went all out," Kate laughed, snapping you and Anna out of your shocked states, "Come on!"

She looped her left arm through yours and her right through Anna's so you walked in a chain as you made your way from the bottom of the hill to the massive house on top.

You, Kate, and Anna had been best friends since 3rd grade. Your trio was inseparable, and every teenager on the island knew it. Three equally spoiled, popular girls who knew the ins and outs of the high life: Kook royalty.

Every Kook girl wanted to be you, and every Pogue wanted to end you. Down on the Cut, some called you 'the Plastics'. You had heard the name tossed around, but rolled your eyes every time. You liked to think you were at least a little bit nicer than Regina George, and smarter than Karen Smith.

"Anna, you're good with DDing, right?" you yelled over the music as you approached the house.

Anna nodded with a grin, "Yep! I'm playing doubles with my dad tomorrow at, like, 8 A.M. I'd rather not throw up Pink Whitney all morning."

You and Kate both laughed.

You'd barely pushed open the front door when your jaws dropped again. As big as Topper's house was, you would've never believed it could fit so many people.

Kate yelled something at you and Anna, but you both stared at her dumbfounded as you couldn't hear over the music. She rolled her eyes and grabbed each of you by the hand, dragging you through the hallway. Kate weaved in and out of sweaty body after sweaty body until you finally reached the backyard.

"Topper!"

Kate squealed and ran towards her boyfriend, launching herself into his arms. He spun her around with a dopey grin, clearly already affected by the alcohol.

You and Anna both gagged, giggling amongst yourselves.

"Happy birthday, loser," you shouted at the top of your voice, patting him on the back

Topper gave you a thumbs-up before attaching his lips to Kate's. You rolled your eyes and grabbed Anna's hand, leading her away from the gross couple.

"I need a drink," you yelled close to Anna's ear so she could hear you.

She nodded and you walked together towards the large table on the other side of the pool filled with a variety of liquors, mixers, and red solo cups. You didn't hesitate to grab a plastic cup, filling about a third of it with vodka and finishing it off with lemonade. You give it a swirl, and lifted the cup to your lips to take a large gulp.

"You are such a girl," Anna laughed at your choice of drink.

You shrugged with a grin, "I like my alcohol best when I can't taste it."

Anna filled her own cup with non-alcoholic lemonade and clinked it against yours.

"Cheers!"

You looped your arms together and drank out of your cups.

"You know you were supposed to bring your own drinks, right? BYOB?" a deep voice laughed behind you.

You and Anna turned to face a grinning Kelce.

You rolled your eyes, "When have we ever brought our own? Besides," you mockingly whispered, "We have an in with the host."

"Yeah, and our in is currently keeping him occupied," Anna giggled, taking a sip of her lemonade.

Kelce laughed and pulled both of you into a side hug. You noticed a couple of his friends, Charlie and Will, standing behind him. You shot them both a smile which they gladly returned. You quickly found yourself immersed in conversation with Anna and the three boys, all the while sipping on your vodka lemonade.

You were beginning to feel the effects of your drink. It was a nice buzz, and it helped you take your mind off of your impending conversation with your parents. You were laughing at one of Kelce's jokes when a hand wrapped around your upper arm, lightly tugging you away from the group.

You looked up to face Rafe Cameron. His eyes were bloodshot and he reeked of beer. Your brows cinched together in confusion. You and Rafe had never been close—he had always just been Sarah's older brother. Sure, you chatted in passing, but you never sought each other out. Why was he approaching you now, clearly high as a kite?

"Rafe?" you frowned softly.

“Have you seen my sister around?" he asked breathily.

Your nose scrunched in surprise. You knew that he and Sarah never really got along, so the question took you aback.

"Uh, not in a while, I don't think. I've barely seen her since she ran off with John B and started hanging out in the Cut," you answered slowly, "Why?"

The older boy shook his head dismissively, "I just need her to do something for me and she's avoiding me," his speech was slightly slurred, "Bitch," he grumbled under his breath.

You shot him a look, but couldn't fight the amusement tugging at your lips as he grinned sloppily at you.

"Well, I—"

You froze. Invisible hands traced your abdomen and trailed up your body, massaging you. Their nails scratched you slightly, making your hair stand on end. The ghosting feeling of someone else's lips against yours made your skin crawl and your cheeks flush red. The lips then moved from your face down to your neck where they trailed kisses downwards, almost to the waistband of your shorts—

"I need a shot," you squeaked.

Rafe cocked his head to the side, but handed you a discarded cup still filled with what seemed to be straight Vodka.

"Are you okay?" he laughed.

You ignored him, and took an unpleasantly large gulp of the liquor while harshly pinching your thigh. The burning in your throat and the sharp pain in your leg successfully made the invisible hands and lips tracing her body go away.

"Yeah I'm fine—"

Just as you thought you were in the clear, you felt a slap against your thigh in the same spot you'd pinched. You jumped in surprise, and Rafe's eyes only widened in bewilderment.

"Sorry," you apologized, "I seem to be having a disagreement with my ass of a soulmate," you gritted your teeth as you harshly pinched your upper arm.

The older boy laughed and took the cup from your hand, taking a swig of his own, "It happens. What're they doing?"

You opened your mouth to answer, but immediately shut it. Your eyes widened to the size of saucers as the hands returned, but this time directly on your groin. Heat bubbled in the pit of your stomach, and your face had surely turned the shade of a tomato.

This certainly wasn't the first time you had felt your soulmate going at it. It seemed they slept around a fair amount. But this was the first time you were in public while they were doing so.

"Oh my god," you cried in horror as a wave of unwanted pleasure hit you.

You snatched the cup from Rafe's hand and downed the rest of the drink, ignoring the urge to vomit as you did so. The hands went away again, but only briefly before returning again.

"How high are you?" you cried desperately to Rafe.

He cocked a brow at you, "On a scale of 1 to 10? Like a—"

"Actually, I don't care. Just don't remember this tomorrow."

With alcohol and annoyance clouding your judgement, you pulled his face down to yours and smashed your lips together. His eyes shot open in shock and you felt him stiffen in surprise.

"Just go with it," you mumbled against him.

That seemed to be convincing enough for him. He moved his lips in sync with yours and placed his hands on your waist, squeezing you slightly.

Your mind was hazy as you pressed your body against his. The feeling of Rafe's hands roaming your body along with the invisible ones was a muddled sensation. It was hard to decipher which was which. You slipped your tongue into his mouth and tugged on his hair, and he moved his hands down to your ass in return. As Rafe kissed you harder, so did the heat in your soulmate's stomach increase.

It was a battle between you and your soulmate. You were both trying to confuse each other; test each other's limits, and you surely weren't giving up.

You moved Rafe's hands down to the back of your thighs so he could pick you up and pin you against a nearby tree. The combination of the alcohol, Rafe's lips against your neck, his hips bucking against yours, and the feeling of your soulmate getting closer and closer to an orgasm left you a dazed and confused mess.

The party in front of you seemed to spin as you glanced over Rafe's shoulder while he sucked harshly on the side of your neck.

"Hey," you slurred, trying to get his attention.

He hummed against you, but continued peppering kisses along your collarbone.

"The pool looks nice," you struggled to verbalize your thoughts.

Rafe laughed and pulled away from you, "You wanna go in?"

"It looks nice," you repeated with a lazy grin.

Rafe grinned at you before taking off into a very uncoordinated run with you in his arms. The pit in your abdomen was building up rapidly, but just as you felt your other half about to reach their peak, Rafe tossed you into the air. You let out a screeching laugh before you were submerged in the cold water.

The coil in your stomach released, but not in the way you knew your soulmate wanted it to. You could feel anger that wasn't your own flood your body, but your soulmate's annoyance at your cockblocking was overpowered by a blissful satisfaction. Your amusement mixed with their anger and you couldn't help but laugh at the thought of them on the brink of an orgasm, but getting hit by a wave of cold water instead. You grinned underneath the pool water, because you knew you'd won this battle.

Foggy-minded, you floated back up to the surface and bobbed your head out of the water, gasping. You barely caught sight of Rafe laughing before he canon balled into the pool beside you. You giggled as water splashed onto your face.

Everything was spinning, but it was such a wonderful sensation that you couldn't be bothered to care. You laughed and flailed your arms around the water like a child, letting the chemically-induced bliss take over.

No soulmate, no nagging parents, no anxiety.

And you relished in it.

taglist:

@obxlife @ilovedogs1989 @a-golden-sunflower-vol-6 @justsomegirlontheinternet @iamaunicorn4704 @lopineapples

there’s part 1! i know there’s no JJ yet im SORRY... gotta build up the suspense first hehe next part will be coming soon! feel free to message me/comment to be added to the taglist! also sidenote if you haven’t read the prologue yet read it first! there’s important background information there you’ll need later on :)

#jj maybank x reader #jj maybank #jj maybank smut #rudy pankow x reader #jj maybank series #jj maybank fanfic #jj maybank imagine #rudy pankow #rafe cameron x reader #obx #Outer Banks #outer banks fanfic #outer banks imagine #john b x reader #john b routledge #sarah cameron #rafe cameron #pope heyward #kiara carrera

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