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yeosangsleftbicep · 3 years

Text

sand, salt, and tears

series information:

pairing: Johnny x reader, Jaehyun x reader

summary: You have a boring job at the beach for the summer, but one day your life is spiced up after meeting a handsome lifeguard named Johnny and all of his friends.

genre: lifeguard au, summertime romance

warnings/themes: alcohol, drugs, (eventually maybe) smut, fluff, second-lead syndrome (?), angst, love-triangles, jealousy

"I’m here to help, you’re gonna be okay."

Ch.1

warnings: blood (small injury), swearing

word count: 2.1k

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You never intended for the summer between your sophomore and junior years of college to be packed with hard work and stress. In fact, you thought that having a part-time job in a beach town would be quite the opposite. That it would be full of seasonal flings, sunburns, and plenty of time relaxing on the beach enjoying your sappy romance novels. Instead, your absolute bitch of a boss, Cindy, had you working 35 hours a week wiping tables and taking orders, sometimes even being a substitute bartender if it was a busy night. Luckily for you, your best friend Karina also decided to take the plunge into the world of summer waitressing with you, and the two of you had almost every shift together. But still, you would much rather be stretched out underneath the sun right now than punching your 100th order of the morning into the restaurant’s computer system. You sigh aloud at the thought of the salt water lapping at the shore, seagulls flapping around while the local surf rock station plays quietly on the radio in the sand next to you.

“Y/N!!” an obnoxious voice shouts, shaking you out of your seashore reverie. Your eyes refocus just in time to see Cindy storming towards you in anger, her eyes scrunched with a fury that only ever comes out when you’ve messed up. “You’ve been standing there for 2 minutes doing nothing,” she hisses through her teeth. “Pull yourself together. You only have a half hour left on your shift, and then you’re free to be as useless as you want.”

“Sorry,” you mumble under your breath, holding back a sarcastic retort to the last part of Cindy’s criticism. You punch the order into the system and sweep yourself back into the dining room to do rounds and check on the tables that you’ve already served food to.

---

True to her word, Cindy released you from hell 30 minutes later. As quickly as possible, you strip off your apron and change into one of your favorite blue bikinis in the employee bathroom, wanting to hit the beach as soon as possible. You find Karina waiting outside the restaurant in her white Jeep Wrangler, roof and doors removed for the warm summer weather. On the rare days when the two of you don’t share a shift, this is always your routine. Karina picks you up at the end of your 2 o’clock shift and drives the two of you to the beach where you spend the next four hours basking in the sun and body-boarding in the water.

Today is no different, and the two of you soon find yourselves spreading out your towels and slathering yourselves in sunscreen, preparing for an afternoon of the reason you truly came to the small beach town this summer: relaxing. After an hour or so of sunbathing and reading some rather spicy parts of your latest romance novel, you and Karina decide it’s time for a dip in the ocean. “Hey, Y/N, go check what the water temperature is so we can mentally prepare ourselves before turning into popsicles in the ocean,” Karina giggles, gesturing towards the nearest lifeguard stand. You nod in agreement and make your way over to the back of the tall white chair where information such as water temperature and high tide is usually posted. As you near the stand however, you notice that instead of temperatures and warnings, someone had written the words ‘Ask me!’ over the chalkboard.

You glance up at the lifeguard to try and catch their eye, but an umbrella has been propped sideways to block a northward wind, preventing you from being able to see the person sitting there. “Excuse me!” you shout, hand shielding your eyes from the sun as you make your way around to the front of the stand. “Is everything okay?” a gentle voice responds. The lifeguard, a rather lanky, handsome man with black hair brushing the top of his ears, leans over. “Everything’s fine,” you respond with a timid smile. “I was just wondering what the water temperature is?”

The man’s form visibly relaxes as he realizes that there was no emergency and you just wanted some information. “Oh! Yeah, the temperature is 67°,” the lifeguard responds.

“Okay, thank you!” you shout, turning away to walk back to where Karina was waiting.

“Wait! Are you planning on boarding at all?” he asks, forcing you to turn around. He glances over at Karina and the boogie boards lying on the sand next to her while she watches us.

“Um, yeah. Is that okay?” you respond, placing your hands on your hips.

“Of course, of course! You should just know that there’s some serious undertow and a pretty strong rip current in this area today. If you get pulled out just swim parallel to the beach to get back in or signal if you need help,” he smiles helpfully.

“Oh. Thanks, but I think I’ll be okay,” you nod. “I’ve been coming to this beach and boarding since I was a little kid.”

The lifeguard just shrugs and sits down, but you can feel his eyes on you and Karina as the two of you grab your boards and dive into the frigid waves. Unfortunately for you, the lifeguard was quite right about the strong currents, and you spent half of your time in the water struggling to not be dragged down the entire length of the beach. After about a half hour of unsuccessfully attempting to catch some waves, Karina sighs and starts to swim in. “Maybe tomorrow will be better conditions. Neither of us are working so we can be out here all day if you want,” she exclaims, always the optimist. “Ok,” you reply. “I’m going to stay out here a little longer and then head in. Do you mind taking my board?”

You un-velcro the strap from your wrist and push the board towards Karina for her to drag it onto the sand. As soon as you let go of the board, you begin to realize just how much you were relying on it to keep you afloat in the strong current, especially considering you aren’t in an area where you can touch the bottom. After just a couple of minutes of treading water, you decide to follow Karina’s idea and begin to swim towards the shore. Karina sees you making her way towards her, but she waves her hands and shouts, pointing to the ocean behind you. A quick glance tells you that there’s a massive wave just seconds away from crashing on your head. “Shit,” you curse, turning around and bracing yourself to be pommeled. Had you been farther out, you might have been given the chance to dive under the wave as it crested, but you were in the exact area that, when the wave finally arrived, the only thing you could do was take a deep breath and hope for the best.

As the wave crashes around you and catches you in it’s white waters, you tuck your knees into your chest, feeling yourself bounce around, your shins catching the sharp shells and rocks being thrown around you. After what feels like forever, you finally resurface, gasping for breath and a little red-faced from the embarrassment of wiping out, but still alive. And yet, something felt weird. As you catalogue your surroundings, you notice that you are farther from the shore than you were when you went under. Much farther. You try to plant your feet on the sand beneath you, but instead begin to sink below the surface. Having been tired out from fighting the waves for the past hour, you begin to panic, forgetting everything that the lifeguard had just told you about swimming out of rip currents.

In your own panicking and splashing around, you fail to notice someone swimming towards you. Someone wearing red swimming trunks with a bright orange buoy tied around their waist. When the lifeguard finally reaches you, he grabs your wrist to place your hand on the float, causing you to scream out in surprise, still not realizing that someone was there to save you.

“Shhh, shhhh calm down it’s okay,” the lifeguard says, reaching for your hand again. “I’m here to help, you’re gonna be okay.”

You try your hardest to hold in your tears as you grip onto the lifeguard’s buoy, but you feel like you can barely breath from the panic that you just experienced. You squeeze the orange plastic so tightly that your knuckles turn white, something that the lifeguard is quick to notice. “You’re going to be okay,” he once again reassures you. “What’s your name?” he asks in a soothing voice.

After a few deep gasps, you’re able to get out, “Y/N.”

The man smiles. “Hi, Y/N. I’m Johnny. I’m going to get you back to solid ground, okay? But I’m going to need you to stay calm for me, okay? Or else it’s going to be a lot harder for me.”

Unable to respond, you just rapidly shake your head, eager to have your feet touching the earth again. Johnny places one of his hands on the other side of the buoy, and uses his right arm to begin towing you back towards the shore. In no time, the water grows lighter as you and Johnny cut through the water, eventually reaching an area where you can once again stand. “Are you okay?” he asks, turning towards you with a worried sound to his voice. You once again nod, embarrassed to meet his eyes and not trusting your voice to be stable if you spoke.

Johnny gives you a once over, his eyes lingering on your knee. You follow his gaze and notice that during the wave, a shell must have gashed your leg open, and a steady flow of blood is now streaming through the cut on your knee. “Why don’t you come up to my stand and let me check that out?” Johnny asks, although it comes out as more of a command. “O-Okay,” you whisper. He places a steadying hand on your back and guides you up the sand to where Karina is waiting for you. “Oh. My. God,” Karina shrieks, seeing the injury on your leg. “She’ll be fine,” Johnny comments to her. “I just want to clean and bandage the cut to make sure that it doesn’t get infected.”

He guides you to sit down on a foldable chair at the base of the lifeguard stand while he climbs up to get a medical kit. “This might sting a bit,” Johnny apologizes in advance, opening the bag to pull out an alcohol wipe. “It’s okay, I can handle it,” you grimace.

“Just like you said you can handle the ocean?” Johnny asks, looking up with a small grin. “Sorry, too soon.”

“For your information,” you begin. “I would ordinarily be able to deal with that wave, no problem. I just wasn’t ready.”

“Mm-hm. I’m sure,” Johnny nods sarcastically.

“Hey,” you frown. “You don’t know me well enough to be making fun of me- HOLY SHIT THAT HURTS!”

You glance down to see Johnny dabbing at the wound on your leg with the cleansing cloth. “Sorry,” he grimaces. “I did try to warn you.”

Johnny goes to wipe at the cut again, another wave of pain rolling over you. You involuntarily reach out to squeeze the closest thing, which happens to be Johnny’s bare back as he’s bent over your knee. “Jesus, woman,” Johnny swears, pulling away as your nails dig into his skin in pain. Your hands shoot up to cover your mouth. “I’m so sorry!” you squeak. He sucks air in quickly through his teeth as he glances over his shoulder to look at the scratches you left on him. “I normally have to buy someone a few drinks before I get them to mark me like that,” he chuckles, turning his attention back to your leg, which he begins to cover with a bandage.

Your cheeks color a bright red at the suggestive comment, although luckily Johnny doesn’t glance up at that moment to see your embarrassment.

“There. All done,” Johnny says, gently patting your knee and standing up. “The next time I tell you to watch out for the rip, listen to me,” he orders, raising an eyebrow at me. “Yessir,” you say seriously, giving him a sarcastic little salute. Johnny’s grins. “I’ll see you around, Y/N.”

“See you around, Johnny,” you respond, slowly limping your way back to Karina.

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a/n: Please like if you enjoyed it so I know whether to keep writing!

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red-and-blue-sewer-circus-arc · 6 years

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CHANGING FACES

Arnie Miller's day started poorly and went downhill fast.

After he finished cleaning and shaving he made himself a quick breakfast of scrambled eggs and toast and watched half an hour of the news. Nothing happy going on that he could see and one of his acquaintances had been violently mutilated. Matthew Sechrist was dead. Maddy the Clown was deceased, and not by natural causes.

For now, it was time to get ready, so he got himself off the sofa, scarfed down the last of his eggs, he put on his war paint: Titanium white face and a big blue curly haired wig: blue triangles under his eyes and above them as well, a bright red smile and blue dimples to accent it. Finally, of course, the red nose. Next came his regalia: a loose, gigantic white outfit with green polka dots, and an orange tie with matching green spots; two purple shoes, size 32, and a top hat that was a perfect match for his oversized tie.

"You'd think so, wouldn't you? But I saw a clown with almost the same face over near the merry-go-round." Lou said the words with a false casual voice.

"Excuse me?" There was nothing mild in Arnie's voice. Clown faces were serious business. Every clown tried to look unique. Hell, there had been lawsuits over faces that were too similar and Arnie didn't much want to get involved in one of those. His face was close to one that had been used back in the sixties. He'd seen the clown as a kid and been stuck with that face in his mind, because the guy had left such an impression on him. It wasn't like he'd stolen the design: he'd just borrowed heavily from it. Besides, he remembered hearing the clown and his whole troupe had died a few months later in a bad fire.

By the time Arnie found the other clown, the fair had opened. The man was dressed in a bright red coat and suit, with enough sequins to just about blind a person. Unlike a lot of clowns, his outfit looked custom tailored to fit his tall, lean body. The outfit looked as if it had just been made and was finished off with a matching top hat and well polished dress shoes, complete with dark red spats. He was, without a doubt, the most dapper clown Arnie had ever seen.

The clown looked at him and Arnie saw the shock on the thin face, written under the makeup that left a smile painted in place.

"Well, what have we here, boys and girls?" Arnie blinked as the clown spun towards him, the bright blue eyes looking him over from top to bottom. Arnie swallowed hard and tried to recover from the unexpected change. The lanky clown moved over to him and slid up beside him with slick, almost spidery motions.

He leaned in close, and put his lips next to Arnie's ear. "What's your name, Ace?" "F-Fast Freddie." Rufo sprang back as soon as Arnie had answered. "Fast Freddie! I thought I'd never see you again!" His voice went up in octaves, high enough to almost sound feminine, and then he jumped forward and wrapped his arms around Arnie in a wild, exaggerated hug. Before Arnie knew what was happening, he was off the ground, lifted like he was nothing more than a child by a man who was thinner than he was. The arms around his ribcage squeezed like a python and for a moment he thought his ribs would break. Then he was sat down and Rufo stepped back, grinning broadly for everyone.

Arnie was following the man's every move, so he didn't really understand how the other clown had just vanished, but that was exactly what happened. He looked away for only an instant and Rufo was gone. There was a serious feeling that something was not right with Rufo the clown and that sense was only increased by the strength of the man.

"Please... please mister, I did like you asked, didn't I?" The sounds were coming from one booth over and Arnie looked around the rear corner of his resting spot and saw Lou trembling.

"You sure did, Mister Peasley. You did it just as nice and right as you could have, and that's why I gave you the fifty bucks." The voice was low and raspy and sent shivers of goose flesh across Arnie's back.

"Then why are you doing this?" Lou's voice cracked a bit.

"Know what the problem with you is, Mister Peasley?" Lou shook his head. "The problem is you sold out one of your friends for fifty bucks. How trustworthy do you think that makes you?"

"Oh God, Oh God, please no..." Lou backed up, his head shaking from side to side, and as he moved back the source of the shadow stepped forward. Rufo the clown looked at Mister Peasley and grinned. "That's just what Maddy said, right before I ripped his eyes out."

"What's that, Mr Peasley?" The man leaned over Lou and scrutinized his face.

"What's what?" Lou gasped as he started to sit up.

Rufo's hand shot forward and grabbed at Lou's face. Arnie watched on, unbelieving as the clown rammed his gloved thumb into the soft orb of Lou's left eye. "You've got something in your eye..."

Rufo laughed, a sound that had nothing whatsoever to do with joy. Then Rufo did it again. He reached out with his free hand and caught Lou's tongue between his finger and thumb. Lou kept screaming, trying to get away as the red flowed from his closed eyelid. Rufo pulled back and Lou's head followed for a moment before the flesh of his tongue sliced away from his mouth.

"Jesus Christ!" Arnie opened his mouth and said words before he realized what he was doing.

"Oh, Fast Freddie, I don't think He's here right now, do you?" Rufo winked at him and dripped Lou's tongue to the ground.

"Okay, Arnie. What we have here is a problem."

"You gonna kill me?" Arnie had no doubt the clown could. None at all. There was something about the man under the paint that unsettled him. Probably it was his violent tendencies.

Rufo looked his way and shrugged. "Well, I should. I mean, look at what I did to Mister Peasley over there, and he really didnt do that much to offend me." "Why did you do it?" "Why?" Rufo looked back at Lou, who was starting to crawl around. "Well, he really wasn't a very good clown, was he? I didn't see him make a single kid laugh."

"Without the makeup we're all just faces in the crowd. Why do you think clowns protect their faces so avidly?"

Rufo's eyes rolled towards the heavens. "I said, go kill Peasley and I'll let you live. You have to change the makeup, but other than that, we'll be even-stevens." "You can't be serious." Rufo popped up into a standing position like a jack-in-the-box and moved toward Arnie. Arnie flinched back as the other clown got right in his face. "Is this the face of a joker? Of course I'm serious! You or Peasley, who do you value more in this world?"

"I can't kill Lou. He's my friend!"

"He sold you out for fifty dollars, Fast Freddie."

"I can't do this. I'm not a killer." He shook his head and looked at the ground at his feet. "Not even if it was a mercy killing?" Arnie couldn't think of a proper response. So he went with the first thing that came to mind. "Okay, you took his tongue, but there's always a life as a mime." "Now how is living as a mime a good thing?" The other clown sounded indignant. "Well.. okay. That's true."

Couldn't we just settle this in court?" Arnie's voice was failing him and he squeaked like a kid who's voice was just starting to break. "Freddie," Rufo bent forward, his hands resting on his knees. "If I wanted to go to court, I'd have to prove to everyone that I'm still alive. You aren't worth the effort." He stood back up and looked down on Lou and Arnie alike. "Besides, there's that whole murder and mutilation thing to consider. Most courts don't like it when clowns go all violent."

Rufo stared at him for several seconds, the grin under his smile unwavering. Then he stepped forward and drove the heel of his foot into the flabby neck of Lou, who was still lying on the ground and moaning. Lou's face shoved hard in the dirt, and Arnie heard the bones in his neck breaking. There was no mistaking the sound, or the fact that it killed Lou instantly. "I'm here to stay Fast Freddie."

Arnie screamed. That was a bit more than he was willing to deal with, and he let loose with a girly shriek and bolted past the funnel cake stand and into the main area of the fair. He stopped when he'd cleared a good fifty yards and looked back, fully expecting Rufo to be on his heels, but there was nothing, no one.

By the time the police arrived, the security guard had Arnie hog tied with plastic bags and was strutting around like a rooster. The cops untied Arnie long enough to ask him a few hundred questions. When they were finished, Arnie was in the back of a police cruiser and wearing actual handcuffs instead of plastic bags. It took three days for Arnie to get up the bail to get out of his jail cell. He didn't much mind. One way or another his career as a clown was at an end

"I just wanted to make the kids happy, really. I like kids." He knocked back half of his beer in salute to the children and let out a deeply satisfying belch. "That's why I've decided to let you live anyway." Rufo's voice came from directly behind him.

Arnie couldn't have jumped higher if someone had electrified his ass. The other clown was standing behind Arnie's recliner, smiling, with Fireball in his hands. The traitorous cat was slumped along the clown's forearm and purring. "I thought about it, Arnie. You're a good clown. You make kids laugh." He shrugged and let Fireball drop into the chair, where the beast promptly got comfortable again.

Arnie looked carefully at the clown in front of him and shivered. The face he wore wasn't makeup. The triangles of blue had been cut into the other clown's face; as had the red lips and the dimples and the dot on his nose. He'd been wearing makeup to hide that fact at the fair.

"See why I'm partial to my looks, Arnie? They aren't going to go away. Find a new face and we'll get along just fine." Arnie just looked at the man and shivered. Insanity seemed to come off of Rufo like a palpable wave.

"I'm done here. Change your face or the next time I see you, I'll cut your face off your skull and make it into a seat cushion. Do we understand each other?" Arnie nodded his head so hard he thought he might break his own neck from the force.

"Take care of Fireball. He'll be watching you." The clown headed to the front door and stopped with his hand on the knob. "You know, if you mention me they'll think you're crazy right?"

"I won't mention you."

"Bonko's getting out tomorrow. He's probably gonna want to talk to you about the three years for stealing your truck."

Arnie nodded his head and smiled. "He's a bad clown." "What do we do with bad clowns, Arnie?" That was a quandary. He really wasn't sure how to answer, but the longer he looked into Rufo's eyes, the more he thought he understood. "We- we punish them?" Rufo nodded and smiled. "That we do, Arnie. Take care of my light work for me okay?"

Bonko was a big boy and he fought dirty, but Arnie nodded anyway. "I think I can do that. I really think I can." Rufo nodded one last time and quietly slipped through the door.

Arnie moved to the kitchen and looked at his assortment of knives. There were a couple of them that would fit through Bonko's ribs without any trouble at all, and the meat cleaver, well that could do a lot of damage to Bonko's head. "Gonna need a new face, anyway. Bonko's was always nice."

One Bad Week by James A. Moore

#rufo the clown #james a moore #rufo #my moodboards #evil clown #horror book recommendation #horror books #moodboards #rufo moodboard #one bad week #the joker #the new joker #rip off rufo

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