The pogue princess is back // rafe Cameron · Y/n story by @fanficreaderr

The Greyhound bus groaned to a halt at the edge of Figure 8, its brakes hissing like a dying snake. The door opened with a pneumatic sigh, and the afternoon heat hit like a wall—thick with salt, pine, and the unmistakable smell of home.

Bus Driver

Last stop, kid. Try to stay out of trouble this time.

He didn't wait for an answer. The doors groaned shut, and the bus pulled away, leaving a cloud of dust and silence in its wake.

JJ Maybank

About damn time.

His voice cracked in the middle. He pushed off the truck and started walking toward her. Then he was running. And there were arms around her, so tight it hurt, his whole body shaking with the effort of holding himself together.

JJ Maybank

muffled against her hair If you ever do that to me again, I swear to God—

John B. Routledge

from the truck Let her breathe, man. She literally just got out of hell.

John B. hadn't moved from the hood, but his smile was crooked and soft. Kie nudged him, and he hopped off, hands shoved in his pockets like he was holding himself back. She looked older. They all did. Time had carved new lines into John B.'s face, put a new wariness in Kie's eyes. But it was still them.

Kiara Carrera

You look like shit.

Kie stated it like a fact. Like it was easier than saying what she actually meant. Her voice was steady, but her hand was white-knuckled around the strap of her bag.

JJ Maybank

pulling back, gripping Y/n's shoulders What did they do to you? What'd they give you? Those pills—the therapy, the bullshit—

John B. Routledge

JJ. warns softly

J.J.'s jaw worked. He dropped his hands. For a moment, the only sound was the distant crash of waves against the shore.

JJ Maybank

quieter There's something you should know.