Love Him Like He's Yours [FPJones] [JugheadJones] [O.F.C]

2018

The first time Gustav Green landed a gig with the Ghoulies, he was thirteen years old. It had been a simple drug run, small scale. Just from one end of town to the other, and it had lasted all of twenty minutes.

But it'd made his heart race. For the first time in his life, he had felt strong and invincible, his blood veins pulsing hot throughout his young, lanky body, and he knew instantly that he was hooked and wanted to be a part of that life forever.

But things never seemed to work out the way he'd thought they would. By the time he was nineteen, Gustav Green (then known as Gunnar Gustafson, or "Gunner Gus" as his Ghoulie brothers had called him) would be a widowed high school dropout.

His childhood sweetheart Karalyn had fallen pregnant and they'd become engaged shortly after. But then his pint-sized eighteen year old fiancé would have several prenatal complications and after surviving the agonizing miscarriage of their son, Karalyn would suddenly collapse in front of him, taken with a stroke brought on by undiagnosed blood clots.

Reeling from the loss, anger and resentment quickly settled in and before long, he had isolated himself away from the rest of the world - the Ghoulies included. With his heart hardening over, there was no room left for any kind of love or loyalty.

Forever would only last seven years, it seemed.

To his former Brothers-In-Chaos, it would not be enough. He knew it would never be enough, so he'd had no choice but to leave the Sweetwater region. He would abandon his cabin and acreage nestled smack dab in between the Southside and Greendale, silently and in the mid night hours. He wouldn't stop running until he was able to settle down in Centerville and change his name.

All traces of the rowdy, young shit-disturber that had been "Gunner Gus" Gustafson were gone. Now three towns over, Gustav "Gee" Green was a quiet, no-nonsense business man. The modest owner of a respectable sized pawn shop and jewelry repair.

As it would turn out, the cesspool of petty crime that was Centerville, was also the perfect place to lay low and blend in. All Gus had to do was keep his head down and tend to his business - and neither the Ghoulies, nor their equally troublesome rival gangs would take any notice of him.

It was a set up that worked for him, for many more years than he'd expected. It had worked perfectly right up until the night he'd met her. The mysterious stranger who instantly pulled at his heart strings. The beaten and bloodied pixie whose situation hinted at secrets similar to his own.

The frustratingly, alluringly, doe-eyed, sticky-fingered, loudmouth that would initially rob him, only to then have to be rescued by him, followed by them arguing with each other before *his* having to be rescued by *her*, followed by them arguing again...and all within their first hour of meeting. No one could say they weren't passionate. From the jump, she had been something else.

His beloved. His eventual wife. His Violet.

So-called for her perpetual desire to never again have "normie" hair, she'd always been quick to remind him that the "tough times were only there to contrast the good times, so you'd know better" whenever he'd start to feel down.

She'd frequently remind him that their meeting and falling for each other like they had, ended up turning the worst day of her entire life into the absolute best night. He would love her even more for that. It was nicest thing anyone had ever said to him, or it had been, until she had said "I do."

Thinking back, he'd laugh at how he had been caught off guard by the attractive, young intruder at first. Her long wavy chocolate locks that were forever lightened to then be coloured several shades of purple. Her large, bright eyes were framed by long, inky lashes, and her warm olive skin was offset by full, pink lips, dustings of endearing freckles and the sparkling shine of her various piercings.