#stranger than fiction p4

[formulauno98]

Waking Up In Vegas | Chapter One

Inspired by our favourite Spanish paddock Dilf and his late-night shenanigans. In town for the Vegas Grand Prix, your trip takes a turn for the worst when you wake up in a stranger's suite, not remembering a thing from the night before. Or is it a turn for the better when the stranger turns out to be Fernando Alonso?

Word Count: 2k

Warnings: Mentions of Sex/Nudity/Alcohol/Drugs

Author’s Notes: Disclaimer, purely fiction, no-one is taken in this alt-universe. And side note, I'm thrilled Fernando Alonso got P4.

You groaned as you woke up, the last thing you remembered was dancing in the hot sweaty mess that was Omnia. Knowing you had a race to attend the following day, you hadn’t intended to go on a big night out but it was just across the strip from your suite at the Venetian and your friends had persuaded you. What happened after that was an almighty blur, but one thing you did know was that your head was banging and you were stark naked and not alone in your bed.

Gingerly opening your eyes you were met with darkness and the strange feeling that your bed had turned around in the night. Finding it hard to make out the shapes in the pitch black you scrambled to find the switch to open the heavy curtains. Weirdly no matter how hard you tried, your hand found only a blank wall. Where the hell was the switch?

To make matters worse, you normally put your phone on the nightstand beside your bed and it was also nowhere to be found. Knowing that your companion was snoozing beside you you carefully lifted the sheets, putting a foot down on the floor. Even stranger, you could have sworn that your suite had carpet and all you were finding was cool marble.

Standing up you moved around to where you knew there was a rail to walk down into the sunken lounge area, trying to grab it in the darkness. Once again, nothing. Taking a careful step forward where you knew where there was a step, once again you were astonished to find no step. What the fuck was going on?

That’s when it dawned on you. This was not your suite. And although you were not the betting type, you’d be willing to put money on the fact that this room belonged to your mysterious bedfellow. Continuing to scramble around in the darkness you at last found a doorframe, and sure enough a door handle. 

Carefully pushing down on the handle, you cracked open the door to reveal a very large living room, a large expanse of window along one side with a glorious view of none other than the Venetian. Great. Not only were you not in your room, but you were not in your hotel. 

Stepping through into the living room, you felt a little self-conscious, still completely naked. Surely your clothes were somewhere around?

Catching a glimpse of yourself in the mirror you were even more horrified, your hair was stood on end, your make-up smudged around your eyes like a panda. Not a pretty sight. Taking in more of the enormous room before you, you noticed a fully stocked bar, grand piano and some expansive art pieces, all set around the largest sofa you’d ever seen in your life. Two half-full champagne flutes were left on the coffee table, aside from a large ice bucket filled with three empty bottles of what you knew to be very expensive champagne. Whoever this guy was, he was stacked with cash. 

Failing to find your clothes anywhere in the room you glanced out of the window, trying to figure out where exactly you were, you could see the large red sign for Casear’s Palace as well as the Venetian and if you craned your neck to the right, Resorts World. You had to be at the Wynn. Knowing you had to find your clothes and your phone and hotfoot it out of there, you snuck back into the bedroom, leaving the door open just enough to see better.

“Buenos días, mi ángel.” came a voice from the bed. You froze. You hadn’t been as quiet as you should have been.

“Hi.” you said, awkwardly turning to cover your body as you finally located your dress, flung across the floor at the foot of the bed, “I’m so sorry, I was just leaving, go back to bed.”

“No, no, but why?” the man said, his heavy Spanish accent raspy with sleep.

“I’m so sorry, I don’t normally do this… I don’t know…” you stammered, trying to pull on last night’s dress, as quickly as possible. No mean feat in the semi-dark.

“Oh.” you could hear the disappointment in his voice, “At least stay for breakfast? Look I can find you a bathrobe.” 

You could just make out a dark shape getting out of bed, a slight but muscular frame and long, tousled hair. At least he seemed hot.

“Sure, but I do need to find my phone, I need to let my friends know where I am, they’ll be worried,” you said, sitting down on the edge of the bed while the man went into the bathroom. You heard the light switch click on and curious what this man looked like in the light of day, you glanced up.

Nothing could have prepared you for what you saw. Fernando Alonso. The affable Aston Martin Formula One driver. Ass out, equally as naked as you were.

Trying to compose yourself and pick your jaw off of the floor, you were floored as he replied, slipping on a bathrobe “But don’t you remember? You wanted to stay out dancing but your friends wanted to go to bed so I promised them I’d bring you back to the Venetian?”

“Oh.” you said feebly, “But we’re not in the Venetian…”

Fernando smiled wryly, “I didn’t say what time.”

“Touché,” you said as he returned to your side with a matching fluffy white towelling robe.

“Here,” he said kindly, draping it across your shoulders, “Let’s find your phone Y/N.”

“You remember my name?” you asked, dumbfounded.

“Of course? Do you not remember mine?” he raised an eyebrow as he got back up and made his way towards a control panel, pushing a button to open the curtains.

“Fernando?” you said.

“Yes. Thank God, I was worried there,” he said, grinning as the electronic curtains whirred into gear, opening to reveal another large expanse of glass with a commanding view of the Las Vegas strip.

“Sorry,” you said, “I must have drunk a little too much last night.”

He smiled kindly, “Well me too, to be truthful I don’t remember what happened after we left the club. I know we got here so maybe we took a taxi. I will check my phone. But let’s find yours too”

He bustled about, lifting cushions and various items of his clothing that were thrown about. Not remembering anything about last night you wondered if you’d had sex. Waking up naked in his bed it was inevitable but you didn’t feel like you had. 

“Ah here,” he said, waving your distinctive lilac phone. “Here you go.”

“Thank you so much,” you said, glad to have something that might help you piece together what had happened. Your smile faltered though as the screen stayed black “Oh no, it’s dead though.”

“I have a charger, let me find it for you.” he said kindly, “And then we can order breakfast.”

“Oh thanks, that’s super kind.” you said, standing up and tying your robe tightly, deeply uncomfortable in this increasingly awkward situation, “Again, I am so sorry.”

“Please, stop apologising,” he said, looking bemused, “It looks like we had fun last night. Even if we don’t remember anything.”

“Do you think we…” you started, not sure how to broach this delicate question.

“No.” Fernando answered succinctly, clearly his thoughts aligned with yours, “There was nothing in the bathroom bin and we were not sober enough to clean up.”

Slightly relieved you smiled, “Ah thank God.”

Looking slightly offended, Fernando raised his eyebrows as he handed you a phone charger, “Am I that scary?”

“No, not at all.” you said, trying to salvage the situation, “Just that you know… I don’t normally make it a habit to spend the night with strangers and wake up in their rooms.”

“I got you.” he said winking, producing a small booklet, “What do you like for breakfast? Pancakes? Fruit salad? Coffee? Tea?”

“Any of that sounds good right now.” you said, plugging your phone in beside the bed, “Maybe pancakes and coffee?”

“Coming up mi ángel,” he said, picking up the phone on the dresser to ring down for room service.

Now faced with more awkward silence as you waited for your phone to come to life, you wriggled back into bed, slipping your dress off from under your bathrobe and folding it neatly on the nightstand. You may as well be comfortable while having the most awkward breakfast of your life.

“Please don’t look so scared,” said Fernando, making his way back towards the bed, having made his order, “They said breakfast will be here in fifteen minutes.”

“Thank you,” you said, eyeing him up as he slid into bed beside you.

“Want to watch some TV?” he said, reaching across for the remote.

“Sure,” you said. Anything to break this awkward silence.

“So Y/N, how much exactly do you remember of last night?” he said, flicking through the TV channels before settling on the trusty Weather Channel.

“Not so much to tell you the truth. I remember seeing you in the club and you coming over to ask me to dance, then dancing for a pretty long time. After that, no clue.”

Looking concerned, Fernando turned towards you, “Did you take anything apart from drink?”

Surprised by his accusation, you shook your head, “No, I don’t do that kind of stuff.”

“Just checking.” he said, looking bashful, “It’s just I only remember you drinking vodka tonics, and not enough for you to be blackout drunk.”

“That’s what I thought!” you said, feeling more animated, “But you said you don’t remember us coming back here, how much do you remember?”

A guilty look on his face, “Not so much more, I remember your friends leaving, and then my friends asking us if we wanted to go to another party and that is all.”

“Oh.” you said, “You don’t happen to remember where we went?”

“Nope.” he said, shrugging his shoulders, “But we made it back here so we’re safe and sound.”

“That’s true I suppose.” your conversation interrupted by your phone beeping to life. It was finally charged enough to message your friends. 

“Maybe you took some photos?” said Fernando, smiling hopefully as he saw you grab your phone off of the nightstand.

“That’s a good point actually, I’ll just reply to my messages and then let’s do some detective work,” you said, scrolling through several notifications from your friends, demanding where you were. 

Y/N, are you okay?

Y/N are you still with Fernando?

Y/N please call me.

Hurriedly replying, you were happy to know that your friends at least had met Fernando so would have had some kind of lead if you’d gone missing.

“Your friends are worried?” Fernando asked, peering at you curiously.

“Of course,” you said, “Would you not be worried if one of your friends went off with a strange man in Vegas?”

“Maybe.” he said, “But I’m not strange.”

“You know what I mean,” you said shaking your head. “Let’s have a look through my photos, maybe we can figure it out.”

“Yes, let’s do this,” Fernando said, leaning in closer, eyeing up your phone over your shoulder.

Scrolling through your photos your jaw dropped once again. Looking at Fernando, he looked equally as shocked.

Little Vegas Wedding Chapel. Spelt out in bright pink letters above a photo of you draped in Fernando’s arms, bride style.

“No.” was all you managed to say, “No there’s no way.”

“Scroll up!” said Fernando, his brow furrowed.

Clear as day, there it was, you and Fernando stood at a bedazzled neon altar in front of an Elvis impersonator, surrounded by a gaggle of what seemed to be Fernando’s friends. 

“Fuck.” you said, looking at Fernando, eyes wide. “But surely they don’t let drunk people get married no?” he said, trying to rationalise the photos.

“No, and besides I’m sure it’s not legally binding,” you said, mortified by this discovery.

“100%, if it was there would have to be a contract or paperwork,” Fernando said, on the ball.

“Yes! You’re right. I’ll check my purse.” you said, jumping out of bed to check.

“Yes, let’s check every pocket, purse,” Fernando said, jumping out of the other side of the bed.

“All good!” you said, having rifled through your purse, finding only a lipgloss and your room key card.

“Fuck!” called out Fernando’s voice.

“What’s wrong?” you asked, making your way over to where he stood, a piece of paper in his hands, eyes wide, mouth agape.

“We are married,” he said gulping.

[flannelplanet]

Stranger Than Fiction

Chapter 4

Rated: Explicit

A monumentally huge thanks to @jandjsalmon for being the best beta reader to ever beta read. I know for a fact this wouldn’t be half as good without her! I’d also like to thank @youbuildmeupbeliever and @lilibug--xx who helped encourage me and keep me going.

Summary: “No, baby girl. I need a yes or a no. Do you want to be mine? Do you want me to be yours?” She didn’t miss the familiar words she’s sure he used on purpose. This was him replacing those words- once full of fear and anxiety- with a fresh meaning, full of promise. “Yes, Juggie. I want to be yours.”

chapter 4 under the cut | read on ao3

“I don’t know how you can drink that, Betts. It hardly even qualifies as coffee at this point. Your cup is just sugar with a side of caffeine,” Jughead scoffed.

“I don’t know how you can drink your coffee black, Juggie. It’s so bitter,” she retorted from across the table.

“Bitter it may be, but at least I can still call it coffee.” Betty looked down to her cup thoughtfully. The creamy-colored liquid in her cup tasted heavenly, no matter what her coffee date said.

Both Betty and Jughead had agreed to meet for coffee to discuss the elephant in the room; their blogs, what they were doing on their blogs, and what that meant for them now that they were more than just blogs. Thus far, they had made small talk and completely avoided the subject, but they were beginning to run out of things to talk about, so Jughead bit the bullet and brought it up.

“Betty, I think we need to discuss what we were doing online  and what we could be doing in our real, physical lives.” Straight and to the point, like ripping the Band-Aid right off a wound.

Betty nearly choked on the sip of coffee she had just taken. It sounded so much more real when he said the words aloud. “Yes, I suppose we should talk about it,” she replied, his words suddenly making her stomach twist with nerves. She wasn’t sure how she’d react if he wanted to end everything with her now that he knew who she was.

“Right.” Jughead paused and looked at her cautiously, “I know you might be hesitant to continue what we were doing together and I understand why, especially after what you shared with me about your past. But, Betty... I think a relationship like the one we could have is special. I know it’s something that I was looking for and I believe it would be very beneficial for you too. I think it would be a mistake to give it all up because you’re afraid.”

She seemed rather taken back by his words. He was right, she was feeling very wary to do anything like what they were doing online in person because she was afraid. Sometimes she hated how perceptive he was. “Well, you’re right. I am hesitant. What we were doing had an element of anonymity that is now completely gone and I felt free because I was never worried Jughead would judge me or think I... I mean,  it’s not that I don’t trust you or anything, but I feel like I knew Jughead because of the things we shared with one another. I had you, Forsythe, and Jughead labeled as two completely different people. I’m still struggling slightly with combining the personality that I’ve grown to know and care about online with my friendly if not overly formal next-door neighbor.”

Jughead reached out and touched her hand softly as it rested between them on the table. “I understand that, Betty, you have to know that the ‘Jughead’ you got to know online is still a very real part of me. Just as much as ‘Forsythe’ is. Maybe even more so. It’s all of me. I still like to use my words to unravel a woman. I still pay attention, pick up on little things people do to learn more about their personalities. I’m an observer and I still know how to make you feel alive, Betty.” His eyes were growing darker with every word he spoke.

A pink blush bloomed across her porcelain skin. Breathlessly she asked, “How, Juggie? How would you make me feel alive?”

“Oh, sweet girl. Not here, not now. We need to figure out what we’re doing before I make you feel anything.” He told her, a crooked smirk gracing his features.

Betty groaned quietly. She knew he was right. They needed to define the parameters of their relationship before doing anything they (read: she) might regret. “Okay. Well, what are our options?” she began, her analytical brain cutting through the fog of want that his smirk seems to surround her in. “We could pick up right where we left off on our blogs, we could start over, or we could forget it ever happened?”

Jughead lifted her chin so she could look at him in the eye. “We will never forget it ever happened, Betts. Ever, understood?” Betty, eyes wide, nodded. The haze was back. “Good girl. Now,  if it's up to me, I think we should pick up exactly as we left off, though admittedly, the dynamic would have to change. Knowing that I can touch you... I want to touch you. I would need to touch you. I would want more from you than just a physical relationship. I would want all of you. I would give you all of me.”

He gave her a moment to let the gravity of what he was implying sink in. “Just think, Betty. Think of how it was before when we were online. How I made you feel. The kind of relationship I want, and I’m sure you understand what I’m talking about here, it would give you what you’ve been missing. Remember when we were talking almost every day? When you were so happy and doing so well?” She nodded. “I can give you that again, Betts. I can clear your mind and make you feel brave. Do you want that?”

“I think so,” she responded, more and more certain with every word out of his mouth.

“No, baby girl. I need a yes or a no. Do you want to be mine? Do you want me to be yours?”

She didn’t miss the familiar words she’s sure he used on purpose. This was him replacing those words- once full of fear and anxiety- with a fresh meaning, full of promise.

“Yes, Juggie. I want to be yours.”

The look of relief on his face was palpable. “Excellent, baby girl. Finish your sugar so I can take you home.”

She chuckled at his return to their earlier banter. “Fine, Juggie. I’ll finish my coffee and we can get out of here.”

-

The walk back to their respective homes was filled with companionable silence. As they approached their homes, Jughead bypassed his own and proceeded to walk her to her door. “Do- uh, do you maybe want to come in?” she asked him, almost shyly.

“Baby steps, baby girl. I’ll pick you up Friday at 7.” She nodded, excited and relieved that she wouldn’t have to worry about what would come next for them. He lifted his hand to the side of her face where he caressed her cheek and drew his thumb down her plump bottom lip before letting go and taking a small step backwards. “Wear something nice for me?”

She nodded again. “Why, of course, Mr. Jones.”

He smirked at her use of his last name. “I’ll talk to you later, Betts,” he murmured low, leaning in swiftly to lay a soft kiss on her cheek.

-

The following day, she received the text from Jughead that she had been waiting on.

Jughead: Morning beautiful :) my sis is available Friday before our date. Is 2 okay?

Betty: Good morning, Juggie. Yeah, 2 is fine. I’ll work from home Friday.

J: Excellent. I’ll let her know.

J: I’ve been thinking of you all morning, Betts.

B: Oh, really? What have you been thinking?

J: What would you say to a little challenge leading up to our date?

B: Interesting. What do you have in mind?

J: A game. No touching yourself until Friday night. You in?

B: Are those the only rules? I’m just not allowed to touch myself? That shouldn’t be too hard.

J: Oh, Betts. You’re perfect for me, you know that?

B: So you keep saying!

J: I mean it, baby girl.

J: I have to go to work. Behave yourself, Betts. BE GOOD.

B: Yes, Mr. Jones ;)

-

She was freezing.

Why couldn’t she see? What was in her mouth? Why couldn’t she move her limbs?

She shivered.

“Betty, you’re awake! I’ve been waiting for you!” she heard him say.

“I had to stop the screaming. I’m sorry, I just couldn’t let anyone hear you... Especially not your next door neighbor. I hear he’s been touching what’s not his to touch.” She felt his clammy fingers graze her cheek. “If I take the gag out of your mouth, do you promise not to scream?”

She nodded, desperate for any kind of freedom she could get. He moved the gag out of her mouth and willed herself to be quiet. He tugged her blindfold off as well, allowing her to take in her surroundings for the first time since she’d lost consciousness.

She was in her own bedroom with Dilton, her arms tied together behind her back and her legs tied together at the ankles. “You could try to run, but you won’t be getting very far.”

She just looked at him, too scared to move or talk.

“I told you I would find you.”

Betty’s eyes, wet with tears, burst open as she struggled to get her breathing under control. The sharp gasps were almost painful. She reached for her phone, knowing what was coming, and dialed the only person she wanted to talk her through this- Jughead . He answered on the second ring.

“Betty, it’s late, are you okay?” he said in lieu of a greeting.

She tried explaining what was happening, really, she did. What came out though was more like hyperventilating and seal noises, which was enough to put Jughead on high alert.

“Stay right where you are, Betts. I’m coming for you.” He said nothing more, but kept the phone call connected, just in case.

Thanks to a poorly hidden Hide-A-Key, within moments he was standing in her bedroom doorway taking in the scene before him. The room was normal, or at least it looked exactly as he pictured Betty Cooper’s room would look. Tidy with everything in its place. Her bed, however, was a different story. The sheets were a mess. It looked as though she had been tossing and turning all night.  Betty’s skin was glistening with sweat and she was clutching at her chest, unable to catch her breath, and she had tears streaking down her face. She was shaking. Shit.

Jughead recognized what was happening as a panic attack and quickly moved to her side. “Betty, baby, try to breathe for me.”

It was as if she didn’t even hear him. His hand found the small of her back and he tried again. “Betts, I need you to focus. Focus on me, Betts. Breathe.”

Again, nothing. Jughead gripped her face in his hands, and kissed her hard. After a few moments, her lips molded around his own and she began kissing him back. Her breath evened out. Eventually he pulled back so he could look at her and ensure she was okay.

“You okay now, baby girl?” he asked, gentleness laced throughout his words as he ran his fingers through her soft hair.

“Yeah, yes,” she breathed gratefully, leaning into his arms. “Thanks to you. I’ve had panic attacks before, tons of times, but that one felt different. I’m sorry for dragging you out of bed for something so silly.”

“It’s never silly when it’s you. What happened?” he asked, softly.

Betty recounted her nightmare to him, down to every gritty detail. She told him that she saw Dilton standing in her bedroom, the one place that she’d always felt safest. She started getting worked up again, and Jughead decided maybe baby steps weren’t the way to go. She needed him and he needed to help her feel in calm and in control of herself. Besides, their date was scheduled for the next day, and he fully planned on ravaging her then, anyway.

“Come here, Betts,” he told her. She climbed onto his lap and curled into him, seeking comfort. He placed his finger under her chin and brought her face to his own. Her lips parted instinctively as her doe eyes took him in, wondering what his next move would be. He brought his mouth to hers in a kiss much more passionate than the one they had just shared, or even the few before that. It was a kiss filled with promise- that she would be okay, that he would make sure of it.

His hands roamed her body as his mouth explored her own. He traced every line, dip, contour, valley, and curve that he came to. Touch was important to him.

He kept his hands away from any areas that might be considered inappropriate on purpose and she was becoming more and more frustrated. She tried moving into him so that his hand would end up cupping her breast, but he stopped kissing her and pulled his hands away.

“You’re not in charge here, are you?” he asked her. She shook her head no. “That’s right. Good girl.” He brought his hands back to her body. “I want you to tell me exactly what you want. Be specific. Ask me nicely and use your manners. Can you do that for me?”

She shifted slightly and sat straight up, looking him directly in the eye. “I want you to erase the memory of my nightmare. I want you to make me forget waking up and not feeling safe. I want you to erase the thought of anyone being in here with me aside from you.” He groaned but did not move. She hadn’t finished, he knew. “I want you to touch me, Juggie. Make me feel good, just like you always have even when you didn’t know you were doing it; when I would touch myself to only your words, when I would touch myself imagining my sexy next-door neighbor doing all those dirty things you described. Please.”

“Goddamn, baby girl,” he murmured low as he began reaching for her. “Strip for me, please. All the way down to nothing.”

She began doing as he asked. He stood and removed his shirt, showing off the toned body she knew was hiding underneath his old t-shirt. He unbuttoned his jeans but left them on.

Once she had completed her task, Betty stood at the side of the bed awaiting further instructions. Jughead took in the beautiful woman before him from head to toe and back again before saying, “You’re even more beautiful in person, Betts. Incredible. Mine .” She shuddered at his words and a smirk bloomed across his features; knowing his words affected her so much was such a rush.

He moved to stand in front of her. “Do you trust me, baby girl?”

“Yes.” The answer tumbled out of her mouth without second thought.

“Good. Do you remember, about a week before we started talking, I posted a story about my absolute favorite way to pleasure a woman? Using my mouth in ways other than speaking, and my fingers in ways other than typing?”

Goosebumps rose all over her body at his words. Of course she remembered. It was a story full of fingers, tongue, and teeth and she spent days pleasuring herself to it. “Yes, I remember.”

“I wrote that I like to start by devouring her, starting with her mouth – “ he closed the distance between the two of them and kissed her on the lips, softly but with meaning. As he pulled away, he continued, “ - to her neck,” he paused to leave a trail of wet kisses down the column of her neck. When he got to her collarbone he asked her, “What came next?”

“You like to bite and mark her collar bones,” as she spoke the words he completed the action she was describing, “and then you like to move to her breasts. You – ah – like to palm one breast while moving your mouth over the other…” She trailed off as his teeth found her pebbled nipple.

“Keep going or I stop, baby girl.”

She groaned out of frustration. It was becoming more and more difficult to speak coherently. “Please don’t stop, Juggie.”

“Mmm, how about you call me Mr. Jones, huh? You were so fond of calling me that for so long, let’s try it now.” He resumed his work on her other breast and began rolling the recently-worked nipple between his thumb and forefinger eliciting an especially delicious-sounding groan from her lips.

“O-okay, Mr. Jones. I’ll try…” As she said his name he bit the tip of the nipple he was working with his mouth causing her to cry out.

“Good girl, now keep going. What did I say next?”

As his mouth continued moving, she tried to gain enough composure to recount his story to him, though it was proving to be increasingly difficult. “You like to trail your lips down her belly and across to her hi-ips, where you like to pay extra close attention. You like to mark her there, where only you and her can see.”

“You’re doing very well, baby girl. Should I mark you? Would you like a reminder that you’re mine?”

She nodded feverishly. “Yes, please Mr. Jones. I would really like that.”

He bit into her hip bone causing her to yell out; the pleasure-pain of his action lighting her body on fire. “More?” he asked, his eyebrow raising as he looked up at her for confirmation.

“Yes, please!” she pleaded, fingers laced through his inky black hair.

While his mouth was busy complying with her request, he brought his fingers back to her skin. He trailed them along her legs and gently nudged them apart. “What next, baby girl?”

“You like to kiss your way up her legs, teasing her until she can barely take it, before you settle in at the apex of her thighs…” Betty became distracted with the feel of both his hands and his tongue working up her legs. They were inching closer and closer to where she wanted him most and she could hardly take any more. She could feel herself building toward release and he hadn’t even gotten to her center.

She couldn’t help the needy moan that escaped her lips as his fingertips gently stroked her folds before spreading her legs even farther apart, exposing her most intimate place to his gaze.

“You are fucking stunning, baby girl. I could spend the rest of my life down here and I would die a happy man.” His breath was tickling her with every word he spoke, he knew, so he kept going. “Do you know what I’m’ going to do next?”

“No, Mr. Jones. Please tell me?”

He was not expecting that to come out of her mouth, that’s for sure. It was quite the pleasant surprise. His girl liked to be teased as much as he liked teasing. He flicked his eyes up to her face. “I’m going to taste you. I know you’re already wet for me. I can see it. You’re glistening so pretty. And once I get a really good taste, I’m going to slide my fingers into you and move my mouth so that it covers your clit. From there, baby girl, if you’re good and sing for me so pretty, I’m going to fuck you with my fingers while I send you to heaven.”

Before she had a chance to respond, his mouth and fingers were following through. She was a mess, writhing and moaning as if she were a woman possessed. “Fuck Mr. Jones!” she cried. Those were the last intelligible words that left her mouth before he had her tumbling into her first orgasm of the night.

Rather than letting her recover, he bit her bundle of nerves and curled his fingers inside her, throwing her right into her second. “Oh Betts, you come so good for me. Such a good girl”

Once she came down and could move again, she began reaching for Jughead’s jeans, where he stopped her by placing a hand over hers. “Not tonight, Betts. Tonight was all about you, and you did so well. Just sleep now.”

“Will you stay with me?” She whispered the question, almost afraid he’d say no..

“For you? Anything,” he said as he settled in beside her, ready to fight any nightmare, demon, or other monster that might come for her in her dreams. -

The next morning, Betty woke up to find Jughead wrapped around her. She rolled so that her body was facing his and could see that his eyes were open and he was grinning at her like a lunatic.

“Good morning, Juggie,” she said, unable to keep the grin off her own face.

“You’re beautiful in the morning light,” he responded. He began moving to get out of bed when he felt her small hand on his shoulder stilling his movements.

“Thank you for coming over last night. I would have eventually been okay, but it meant everything to me that you cared enough to come for me.”

He chuckled and tucked a strand of her loose blonde hair behind her ear. “Oh, baby girl, if my memory serves me right, you were the one who came for me.”

She laughed at his joke and tossed her pillow at him. He caught it and wiggled his eyebrows at her.

“Are we still on for tonight?” she asked him hopefully.

“Of course,” Jughead answered easily. “Actually, get dressed. I’m taking you to breakfast and we’re playing hooky from work. We meet with JB at two this afternoon so we can just spend the day together. What do you think?”

A smiling Betty stretched her arms high above her head and rejoiced in the popping of her stiff joints. “Mm, that sounds wonderful, Juggie.” With that, she got up out of bed, kissing him on the cheek as she passed by him on her way to the bathroom to get ready for their day.

-

Betty nervously wiped her hands on her sundress as she stood staring at the ominous building in front of her. She was about to take a really big step towards ensuring her personal safety for the rest of the foreseeable future, sure, but what had her anxiety level higher than usual was the fact that she was about to meet Jughead’s sister.

“Betts, you’re not nervous, are you? I promise JB will take care of it. We’ll make sure he doesn’t get out.”

“It’s not that, Juggie. I just… she’s your sister. I just want to make a good impression on her.” Her eyes drifted down to the ground with her admission, blushing hard and scared she said something too soon.

“Oh, baby girl. She’s going to love you. Promise,” he said with a wink just as they approached the automatic door opening for them.

Turns out, Jughead was right. Jellybean Jones was a force to be reckoned with. She was a woman in her mid-twenties who wore tailored suit pants with a matching jacket and a vintage concert tee underneath. Her hair was dark and hung straight down her back, almost reaching her butt. She wore black-rimmed glasses over eyes that matched her brother’s – a bright blue that Betty had never seen on anyone else. The walls of her office were decorated in vintage movie posters and nothing about her screamed “lawyer” in the least.

When the introductions were made, Betty told her, “I have to be honest, you’re not at all what I was expecting, Jellybean.”

“Oh, is it because lawyers are stuffy and boring?” Betty nodded sheepishly. “It’s okay. Usually, we are. But I could never, ever conform to The Man .” Betty let out a nervous laugh. “And please, call me JB.”

“Oh, please,” Jughead rolled his eyes at his baby sister. “Lets just get on with it.”

They spent the next half hour going over details from the incident. Betty recounted everything, much the same way she did to Jughead earlier that week, describing in detail her kidnapping and what led to the capture and arrest of her assailant. JB took lots of notes as Betty spoke and once she was done, JB looked very seriously at her.

“Betty, look, this appeal, it’s not a guarantee. I think it’s absolutely worth a shot, but you need to be prepared for what might happen if we lose. Also, even though you don’t have to make a statement, it might make a difference with the review board if you decide to. I’m going to do everything can to help you win this thing.”

Betty breathed a sigh of relief at her words just as Jughead laid a protective hand around her shoulders. She brought her arm across her body and gripped his fingers absentmindedly. Jellybean smirked at their display.

“So, work aside, I have to say I never thought I’d see the day, big brother.”

Jughead scoffed at his sister. “Don’t start your bullshit, Jellybean.”

“Why, whatever do you mean, Jughead?” she teased, her eyes twinkling with mirth.

“You know exactly what I mean.” Jughead shot his sister a look that effectively shut her up about whatever she was hinting at, though the smirk never left her face. “Are we done here, Jellybean?”

“Well, not exactly,” his sister returned. “For the appeal, we’ll most likely have to go to Riverdale. I’ll know exactly which day the hearing is on in the next day or so, but I would start packing and making arrangements now.”

“Will do. Thank you so much for your help, JB. You have no idea how much I appreciate it,” Betty said as she hugged the tiny woman tightly.

“It’s nothing, Betty. It was a pleasure to meet you. I hope we’ll get to spend some time together outside the office sometime soon as well. I’d love to get to know you a little better.”

Betty smiled, and blushed at the implication. “I’d really love that.”

Jughead rolled his eyes fondly. “Alright ladies. I hate to rush, but Betty and I have a date to get on with. Catch you later Jellybean!” he said, placing his hand on the small of Betty’s back and guiding her outside the office. On their way out, he looked down at Betty who seemed a little lost in thought. “You alright, baby girl?” he asked her.

“Would you come to Riverdale with me?” was her response. She bit her lip, unsure of what he was going to say, but certain she’d been right to ask him. She couldn’t think of anyone else she wanted beside her more than him.

“You didn’t even have to ask, baby girl. We still have some time before dinner. I’m going to take you home.”

“Please do, Juggie.”

-

“What is it that you want, baby girl?” Jughead asked, blue eyes staring her down. They were both naked, lying next to one another on his bed this time.

“Can I…” Betty looked at him, eyes appraising his body. She could see strength woven into his toned muscles and the thought made her shiver. She wanted to touch every part of him.

“Can you…?”

“Oh, sorry.” She averted her attention back to his face, deep blush creeping over her skin. “Can I taste you, Juggie?”

He was entertaining the thought for a moment, imagining how her perfect pink lips would feel around the heated flesh of his cock. He got a flash of her green eyes staring up at him as her lips worked over his skin and he had to fight off a groan just thinking about it. “Is that really what you want, baby?” She nodded her head eagerly so Jughead stood from the bed, hand fisted around his arousal. “Then get on your knees for me, beautiful.”

Betty followed Jughead up from the bed, eagerly doing as she was told. He held his growing erection towards her and said, “Go ahead, baby girl. Take what you need.”

She tentatively licked the tip of Jughead's cock and groaned at the taste of him. He was salty and warm under tongue and she leant forward, taking more of him into her mouth. Betty began sucking, moving her head back and forth over his length. His hand brushed her loose blonde waves away from her face, caressing her as he slowly bucked his hips forward. Her hands flew from their place clenched on her thighs to Jughead’s hips, gripping tightly and pulling him forward.

He looked down at her, curiosity written across his features. She pulled herself away from his cock with a wet ‘pop’ and simply said, “I’m taking what I want, Juggie, just like you told me to.” Her eyes dazzling with adoration and confidence. He couldn’t help the groan that escaped his lips.

Jughead let her move him how she wanted for a few more moments before the itch to take back over rushed through him. He pulled out of her mouth, fingers taking hold of her hands and helping Betty to stand. He pressed a sweet kiss to her lips, palm sliding over her cheek, thumb tugging on her lower lip. He stepped back over to lie on the bed, settling back against the pillows. “Come here, Betts.” Jughead patted the space next to him. She climbed onto the bed, kneeling at the place he indicated. “I want you here,” he said, gesturing to his face. “You keep doing what you’re doing, but I want to taste you too.”

A thrill ran through her, hot and tingly down her spine. Once again, Betty did as she was told, swinging a leg over him after she turned to face the end of the bed. Straddling his face, she felt nervous and exposed but as Jughead trailed his fingers across her core, she forgot all her insecurities. Her hands and mouth wrapped around him just as his tongue lapped over her sex. Their words were few and far between as they simply enjoyed one another.

Over and over again, Jughead made her come and when he felt his release rapidly approaching, he gently squeeze her backside “Baby girl, I’m going to come.”

“Please,” is all she said, though her heart was racing. Betty began pumping him with her hand and bobbing her head down on him, faster and harder than before. Her tongue swirling around his cock as her hand worked the space her mouth couldn't fit.

“Betty, fuck… Baby I’m…” she groaned around his cock at his words, sending vibrations throughout his body. Jughead couldn't fight the moan of her name spilling from his lips as he erupted in her mouth. She worked him through his release and cleaned him with her tongue.

When he tapped her backside to indicate he was done, Betty climbed off his body, relaxed and satisfied, and turned back around to lie in his open arms.

“You didn’t have to do that, you know,” he told her, kissing the side of her head.

“I know I didn’t, Juggie. I really wanted to though. I love your taste.”

“Fuck, Betts. You just might be a dream come true.”

-

“We’re not going to make our date,” she tells him, gently rousing him from the sleep he fell into after their mutual release.

He smiled fondly. “That’s okay. We’ll just order in and have dinner and a movie right here in bed.”

While they were eating, Jughead asked her to tell him about Riverdale. She immediately launched into tour guide Betty, recounting all the landmarks and points of interest for someone visiting the town. He stopped her, his hand gentle on hers, and said, “No, Betts. Tell me about your Riverdale.”

Betty looked away. “Juggie, you don’t want to hear about that. It’s not a good story to tell,” she told him, her voice low.

“I want to know everything, even the ugly parts,” he countered, tilting her chin up so he could show her how serious he was.

Knowing she was safe within his arms, Betty went on to explain the torment she had lived with the last few years of her time spent in her home town. Polly, her older sister, had blamed Betty for what happened with Dilton. She claimed that Betty had led him on and that the incident made their family as a whole look bad to the rest of the town.

She explained that she felt like a failure for not recognizing the signs of instability that surely must have been radiating off of Dilton.

She explained why she didn’t talk to Archie or Veronica anymore, despite the fact that they saved her life. She had overwhelming feelings of embarrassment. Every time they looked at her all she could feel was the pity in their eyes.

Jughead drew his fingers through her hair, listening to her every word, and promised that he would be at her side for as long as she would have him.

She thanked him by way of a heated makeout session, too exhausted to take it any further, and then they both fell into a peaceful sleep.

-

“Juggie, do you have everything?” Betty asked as she crossed over her lawn into Jughead’s yard. She set her suitcase and other bags on the sidewalk and waited for him on his deck “JB will be here in just a few moments.”

He opened his screen door, his front door having already been open, and set his bags beside Betty’s. “Don’t worry, baby girl. Jellybean is always late.”

No sooner had the words left his lips than the sleek, black sports car turned the corner and parked at the curb in front of his house. The dark-tinted front window rolled down to reveal Jellybean, her hair piled high on top of her head in a messy bun and large sunglasses shielding her eyes from the sun.

“Get in, losers. We’re going shopping!” she shouted, her grin wide.

Jughead groaned at her Mean Girls reference while Betty giggled. The two of them crammed in the car; Jughead sitting in the back and Betty riding shotgun despite his offer that she could sit on his lap.

“Next stop, Riverdale!”

A few things to note:

I completely manipulated the judicial system to fit the purposes of this fic. 

I borrowed that kiss-to-stop-a-panic-attack thing from Teen Wolf because it's one of my favorite moments on that show and I thought it fit really well here. In reality, if someone is struggling to breathe, kissing them is probably not the best idea. 

Let me know what you guys thought!

[lwk3y]

Persona March! AU MasterPost: Part I

((THIS POST WILL BE ABOUT THE P5′S SIDE OF THE REGIMENT! P4 AND P3′S SIDE WILL BE POSTED IN A SEPARATE POST DUE TO LENGTH !!))

March! Is an AU wrapped around the Persona series, mostly centered around Persona 5, where the characters are members in their school's marching band regiments.

The March! Au will be setting in: Tokyoami, Japan (a more Americanized part, due to the fact that most of my knowledge is American schooling.) The March! AU is a work of fiction and will be improved more along the way. Please keep in mind that some stuff might be triggering as most of the characters storylines are the same as the game or have been changed to fit AU.  

Now here are the first two revealed regiments:

Shujin Marching Regiment- Show theme: Fairytales- Led by Akira Kurusu

Shujin is the top high school marching regiment around the country scoring a 99.23 in the JMA championships (Japan Marching Association). The Shujin Regiment is currently directed by Sadayo Kawakami, a concert/jazz band teacher. It was formerly directed by Suguru Kamoshida, however, after a planned sell-out of abuse, he got arrested for sexual and physical abuse.

Drum Major(s): Akira Kurusu, Makoto Niijima (Understudy)

Participants of Shujin Regiment:

Akira Kurusu- Drum Major- (Junior Year): Akira Kurusu was transferred from his hometown Inaba and adopted by Sojiro Sakura after a mishap that resulted in CPS taking him away. He was a shut-in for his freshman year after the incident, doing online school for a year before coming back to the public school life in the sophomore year. He applied to be in a drum major position already playing Drumline at the time of application. Band director Kamoshida took him in after seeing all the stuff he put through during band camp and helping the team. During Kamoshida’s “rein”, Kurusu did some digging about him from students. After hearing from a forgotten trombone player (Ryuji Sakamoto), a clarinet player (Yuuki Mishima), a colour guard captain (Ann Takamaki), and one of his regular “special training” victims (Shiho Suzui),  he confronts Kamoshida about the abuse. With that, both Kamoshida and Kurusu himself have a fight, to where the student council president (Makoto Niijima) walked in on them with the police behind her. He was shown capable of being a Drum Major from Kawakami, the new band director and still is to his junior days.

Ryuji Sakamoto- Trumpet Section Leader- (Junior Year): Ryuji Sakamoto is a troubled teen but found an outlet in track and marching band. Playing trombone as a kid to make his mum happy, he signed up for the regiment in freshman year. He was going through a tough time already with an alcoholic dad leaving them and his mum trying to balance out her busy work schedule, so when he started witnessing Kamoshida’s abuse to the other students, it ticked him over the edge. Confronting him after a weekend practice session, it got physical as Kamoshida attacked, resulting in Ryuji trying to defend himself. Kamoshida ended up breaking Sakamoto’s right femur, saying it was an act of self-defense then kicking him out of the regiment. Ryuji never picked up a trombone again after that whole ordeal, as well as never taking up track again after an incomplete healing of his leg. One day, a marching band regiment member (Akira Kurusu) asked about Kamoshida and the reason why Ryuji dropped out. He came clean about the truth of how Kamoshida broke his leg. With that information, Kurusu asked him to come back to the regiment. Ryuji, not believing the transfer student, said that he would if he got justice, as well as Ann and Shiho’s getting theirs. Ryuji would later see the transfer student at his locker with a trumpet case and bruises, smiling widely. Since then, Ryuji joined back as a trumpet player, playing in the concert band to improve his skills and getting additional lessons, later becoming a section leader during band camp in the junior year.

Ann Takamaki- Colour Guard Captain- (Junior Year): Taking up dance when she was little, it was easy to sign up for colour guard in her freshman year. Her audition shown her potential in becoming one, so easily she got the spot along with her best friend, Shiho Suzui. She enjoyed the long practices and hanging out with her friend Shiho as well as hanging with Ryuji when it was lunch or in classes together, it took her mind of her busy parent always overseas. However, in sophomore band camp, Kamoshida, as well as the colour guard director, came to her that due to her passion and hard work to improve the show, she would be promoted to colour guard captain. Excited, she began improving more and showing leadership to bring the team together. However, more and more into her position, she realized more about Kamoshida. That Kamoshida was treating her differently than all the other members. She brought it up to him that she wasn't that person and it was wrong, he pinned her into a corner, however. Bringing up the fact that Shiho would be dropped from the regiment if she doesn’t agree. Manipulated, she was forced to let the treatment go on to keep Shiho on the team. However, she noticed her best friend missing practices, always tired and showing up with bruises most of the time, until one day, she didn’t show up at all. Along with that, Ryuji wasn’t showing up either. Her fears became reality as she later found out the Shiho was in the critical care unit in the hospital to a confirmed attempted suicide. Ann was devastated, however staying strong for Shiho, she continued colour guard. A week after, she was approached by the Drum Major Understudy, Akira Kurusu. He asked for information about Kamoshida and Suzui, saying that Ryuji directed him to her. She came clean too, saying that she didn’t wanna play games anymore and that she wants her own justice as well as Shiho's. Kurusu promised that he would help as well as “he was right though, you do make an excellent colour guard captain.” Hearing that from someone else, she was hopeful that it would turn out better in the future, which it did. Another week later a new band director introduced themselves as well as a proud Akira Kurusu stood on the podium to begin the sets for the day.  Ann began hanging with Ryuji again and opened up more to her new group of friends, including becoming stronger for Shiho to keep her happy as she returned back to school.

Makoto Niijima- Flute Section Leader/Drum Major Understudy- (Junior Year): The student council president was not very open to the marching band. Knowing about Kamoshida’s abuse, she didn’t want to be near the band. Makoto was already unlikable due to her harsh thinking and her unlikeable personality. Her mind opened up more however when she met the new transfer student in her sophomore year that claimed to be the new Drum Major Understudy. Akira Kurusu held a normal conversation with her, no taunts or disrespect shown like she usually gets. She was able to connect to someone which made her open up about Kamoshida and how she wants to take care of the problem. Akira tells her about the risky plan he set for the next day and how she could help. Makoto hesitantly agrees, saying she would do her best to help the students. The plan was set into action, resulting in Makoto calling the police and arresting Kamoshida. Along with that was a beat up Akira. Grateful, Makoto helped Akira sorting out the marching band as they try to find a band director. During her time, she fell in love with the way an instrument was played. She asked Akira about what it was and as Akira explained more and showed her, she fell in love with it more. Over the year, she learned to pick it up and how to play. Later, trying out for section leader and wowing Kawakami and Kurusu. She got the position as well as applying for the Drum Major position, soon becoming Akira’s right-hand man with him.

Futaba Sakura- Set Design/Tech Work- (Sophomore Year): Futaba went through a rough time since her mother, Wakaba Isshhiki, passed away due to a mysterious death (reported suicide)  in front of her. With that, she was passed around her families before ending up in Sojiro Sakura’s house. She went through rough times with her uncle before her switch to Sakura’s house, however, resulting in trauma and her becoming a shut-in for two years. She has a strong case of social anxiety which resulted in her only talking online, thus creating a hobby of her being a tech nerd. Sojiro let her live that lifestyle due to his guilt of not protecting her from that trauma. She thought she was going through dark and murky water, no place to turn but down, however, she found the light of the tunnel when someone other than Sojiro dropped off dinner for her. The mysterious stranger introduced himself as Akira, the same name she heard Sojiro speak of over the year. He spoke simple conversations through the door, just telling her about his day or how the weather is like. Soon, he told his own story about what he's gone through when he was a shut-in. She begins to communicate through text with him, how she was blamed for her mother's death, how she sees her mum , etc. Over the year of where she would have been a freshman in high school, Sojiro called from outside the door, saying that Akira asked her to text him. Texting out of curiosity, she reaches to him, getting a text about the case of Wakaba, how it wasn't reported as a “suicide” like she was told. It was reported as a planned poisoning. She connects the pieces together about how the note seemed out of place how she was deluding herself. She texts him how she was realizing now and that her mum really loved her, however, she never got a text back. She waited till morning, still not getting one back until she heard him outside of her door, giving her some breakfast. In a last-second decision, she opened her door and dragged him in. She thanked him, saying that he’s helped her to realize a lot and is in debt to him. She began opening up more, going outside the house, meeting friends through Akira, and even going back to school at Shujin as a sophomore. Even though she still suffers from anxiety, she is more at peace with herself and about her mum. She bonded with Akira even more, to the point where she joined the Marching Regiment at Shujin as a design helper and audio technician if the show needs it.

Haru Okumura -Flute- (Junior Year): Haru learned how to play the flute ever since she was little from her grandfather. Her dad encouraged her playing the flute along with her grandfather. However, a falling out in her family made her not see her grandfather or any other family members besides her father. She still played music, however, getting reminded of the good times her grandfather and her played together. She joined the concert band in her freshman year at Shujin. Her father doesn't fully support her decision to join, however, he allowed it as she does help him with his company. As she turns sophomore, her father becomes a bit more selfish about his business and himself. Being forced into a relationship for a business partnership, Haru was forced to missed shows and practices, making time for forced time with her “boyfriend” Sugimura, an abusive senior football star. Akira, the director of the concert band sometimes, notices the constant absences of Okumura which leads him to the rooftop gardening center. He asks her about the attendance and if she was okay, she brushes him off, saying that she's “busy, that’s all.” He encourages her to come to the after school practice tomorrow, she agrees. Later that night, she and Sugimura are having a verbal fight in an alley near the sushi restaurant they were supposed to have a date at. Started by Haru by asking for some time to herself that next day, they argued for 10 minutes before it got physical. A nearby group was able to stop, that group being Akira and the rest of his group. (Yusuke, Ryuji, Makoto, Ann, Morgana, and Futaba). Akira and Ryuji chase the man off while the rest of the group stayed with Haru. They all lead her to a cafe that was near them, calming her down as she seemed in a state of shock of how many people care about her safety. Akira and Ryuji come back and they all talk as a group of how Haru is stronger then she believes herself, and that she has her own voice in her own decision. Haru, inspired by the group's words, takes more control over her own life. She fights with her father that she never loved Sugimura and that she will be going to more of her band shows if he likes it or not. After days of fighting, her father finally agrees to her wishes. She thanks Akira for the help and encouragement and is grateful for the support. She decides to join the marching regiment at the end of her sophomore year.

Morgana-Band Cat: Found by Akira Kurusu when he was beginning the sophomore year, he followed Akira to school and to home until Akira just took him as his own. Mona was with Akira the whole time; Kamoshida’s rein, trips to the store or clinic, or just midnight walks. Mona became sorta a comfort animal to him and to some of his friends as they hang out more. When Futaba was introduced to him, she made a device that was able to translate his meows to human words with a wired bandana that she made for him. With his new voice, he became more talkative. There might be some wrongs in the translation, however, he still gets his points across. He began becoming more aware to stuff too, noticing panic attack signs (After living with Akira for a long while) or feeling drops if something bad is about to happen. Morgana travels with Kurusu in school in his backpack, making him known as the cat in the bag. Nobody really minds because the cat usually keeps quiet in classes. Mona was introduced to the Marching Regiment after Futaba gave him the bandana, he became a helper to Aki when he was swamped with work or to just go around and help the other members of the regiment feel at peace.

The outfits can be found here:

Kosei Marching Regiment- Show theme: Society- Led by Goro Akechi

Kosei was one of the top regiments at the time with the highest score being 99.21. However, they are now placed in second highest tied with Yasogami due to Shujin taking the place of first. The band director has not been announced or kept a secret to the Kosei ears only.

Drum Major(s): Goro Akechi

Goro Akechi-Drum Major-(Junior Year): Goro Akechi is secretive and not open to the idea of friends. Nobody knows a lot about Akechi, only know that he was an orphan in his childhood before being adopted by a politician. His birth mother reported dead and that his dad was never to be seen. He was taught to grow up, stop acting like a child. So his personality is strict yet prince-like. He has a tv show like appearance, probably use to the fame he got when being on papers about Kosei’s regiment in the schools rise to fame. He can also read people easily, making people sometimes uncomfortable or amazed. He was a trombone player before he applied to be in the Drum major position. He ended up getting the position his sophomore year and being top of his class. He then meets Akira Kurusu, who also just got accepted into being a Drum Major. It felt like fate, Akechi found someone that he didn't despise as much as he does to a lot of people. However, when Kurusu took 1st in the JMA championships, a rivalry started between the two, creating the tension whenever Drum Major summits take place or when they see each other in public. He tries his best to let it go, trying to create a bond with the Shujin Regiment team, however, he has a tough time and only wants the best for his future.

Yusuke Kitagawa-Clarinet-(Junior Year): Yusuke was orphaned when he was young, with both of his father and mother gone. He was adopted quickly by Ichiryusai Madarame, a famous artist and well-known oboe player. Through the years, Yusuke learned the ways of painting by going under the wing of Madarame, as well as playing a clarinet/saxophone on his free time. With his free time, he also created sheet music for the clarinet. As he grew to his Sophomore year, he was hesitant to join to the high schools marching regiment. He was already in the jazz band at the time as he took mostly painting class. He was in one of Madarame‘s art galleries and played his clarinet outside to get fresh air as well as also finish his piece. After playing, a stranger complimented his piece, saying that the melody of it was peaceful and that it was good so far. Yusuke was shocked that someone even complimented a piece he made, Madarame didn’t even do that. The boy introduced himself as Akira Kurusu, a marching band Drum Major at Shujin. He was curious and asked how the marching band was to the frizzy-haired boy. “An escape, a way of expressing yourself without even realizing it” The way the boy described it peaked Yusuke’s interest. The newfound friend he made gave him his number as a way to contact, wishing him luck in the piece he was making. He was awed and signed up for an audition at Kosei’s Regiment. He got approved a week later and was to start at the beginning of junior year. He kept it a secret from Madarame as he kept painting for him during his time available. However, Madarama found out about his involvement in the band, prompting him to give Yusuke more work to due to his “artist block”. A few weeks after the situation, Yusuke contacts Akira, asking to meet up for them to talk. Akira agrees and the go to a cafe where Akira works at. Yusuke talks about how he wishes to continue marching band however he is struggling between a block of sorts. Akira encourages him to keep talking and to keep creating even if the block is dark deep down. Yusuke took his words into heart and continue making music and art for himself, cutting ties to Madarame after doing some digging and questioning. He now lives in the Kosei dorms. Along with that, he is friends with Akira and the Shujin Marching group he has. Even if they aren't in the same team, he doesn't see them as enemies, even on the field.

Outfits can be found here: 

This is a summary of how everyone came into the regiment and how it brought them together. My writing isn't very well so I hope I got the point across of how it started. I was in marching band myself for a short while before I was forced to leave due to injury. So, I know the process of a marching band, however, I might change a bit of stuff depending on story. but other then that, thank you so much for the support on my last post about it!! I’m still researching and changing some things to make accurate!!

There will be no metaverse in this universe, however, if there was to be one, Akira wouldn't be in the Phantom Thieves til later on. The people who have shadows will be the drum majors. (Including P4′s and P3′s Drum Majors have one)

 Akira Kurusu: Castle Dungeon (Shadow form- A thief prince)

Goro Akechi: Tv Studio (Shadow form- Tv Reporter)

You can ask me questions if you would like too!! I like to talk about my au and explain more!! I have some ideas for drawings and comics that I will get done soon hopefully!!