PLOT: The Reader is a common buyer from Fez but he's fallen in love with her, so this time around he won't give her any. She freaks out on  him about it not understanding why, and then he confesses why.

SETTING: Fezco's Apartment

PAIRING: Fezco x Female Reader

REQUEST: the lovely @Candy_apple_tree - thank you for the request!

WARNING: cursing, drug use

A/N: So sorry I've been gone so long! I've been very busy w/ school but I'm back now!

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Y/N's POV

Fez would never admit it, but he would've walked the ends of the earth for you.

For three or so months now, ever since junior year of highschool, you'd been buying from Fezco.

He lived in the large, generous apartment a couple minutes walk from where you lived.

You'd come there every few weeks, only 17 the first time. You had a pitiful look on your face the first day you met him, seeming more sad and upset, "a sad puppy," he called you. It was nice to be admired, even if you didn't know what he liked about you, exactly.

A small part of you thought maybe he just felt pity for you, seeing as you were always walking around town aimlessly from day to night, almost as if the danger of walking alone at night was better than whatever awaited you when you got home before you met him.

To be fair-you came from a semi average family. They were kind, respectable, well-off. Your parents just didn't seem to pay much attention, and mentally-you were slipping through the cracks. A normal girl like you was supposed to "preppy and shit" and "away from the hard stuff" according to Fez.

Your parents seemed to have this perfect bubble whatever what going wrong in your head was perpetually on the edge of popping. As long as you kept up appearances during the day, the perfect middle class family with the perfect looking daughter-it didn't matter that your thoughts were troubling, or that you may have secretly decided to sneak out at night. And to do drugs, no doubt.

Happiness seemed to be a wall that blocked from you and couldn't be fixed with proper sleep, perfect grades, or mingling at parties like everyone else at East Highland seemed to. There was no way to talk about it in a way that made sense, but maybe, someone would care soon.

To you, the solution was simple: to feel something. It didn't matter how much it hurt, if you were wasting into skin and bone, or that you were slowly distancing from all your friends and family.

No one ever seemed to ask if you were ok, and how could they? Drugs were the only thing that brought emotion into you these days, and the people around you didn't actually care how you felt.

They usually just gawked at your newfound waiting appearance, scrawny like a skeleton and sickly pale, your voice croaking as if every heaving breath was your last. As far as everyone knew: it was better to leave you alone.

In a fucked up way, it was kind of nice to be given attention for once, even if it was out of worry. Ashtray would sometimes joke about how you looked like a ghost, to which Fez elbowed him and he shut up.

At this point, anyone could look at you and know something was up, but for whatever reason, Fez seemed to leave you alone about it.

Every day you should've been home from the first day you met him was usually spent at Fez's store, and a few months after the two of you became close-his apartment. It felt safe.

Well, as safe as any girl buying drugs from the dealer she practically lived with half the time the past couple months.

Today as you slide through your window, it was another typical dark middle of the night you planned to buy from him.

The rain outside was pouring as you walked to his apartment. It had been 3am, the usual time you found yourself whenever Fez was.

Fez and you seemed to be the only two people in the world awake at night, his eyes visibly restless and lost in contemplation, which only seemed to jump out in alertness when he looked at you as of recent.

You figured he was used to it-he must have seen a dozen people get sick and decide not to care. Maybe he did. But you couldn't possibly be an exception, you thought. It felt ridiculous to feel you were special.

For now, it felt best to just escape, with whatever pill you could take. And luckily, Fez had almost everything.

Your hair had been tied in a messy bun that night, as always, as you walked a few minutes to his store. Your parents had expected you to be asleep in bed 3 hours ago, but you didn't care.

You knew how to leave and come back and make it look like there wasn't a trace of you missing, although the bones of your body poking out from whatever flesh used to be there said otherwise. You were willing to ditch whatever rules your parents set  just to see him. To feel anything.

Fez was the guy who was chill, didn't ask questions, and didn't act like a douche bag about your "new look," even though he could've just poked fun like everyone else with no remorse. He cared. He didn't say much, but he did.

So if you needed a place to stay for the night-he was there. If you wanted someone to avoid the topic of your dysfunctionally functional family with-he was there. And again, his loyalty remained when you asked him for drugs.

He was hesitant, but he gave them to you anyway. It made for many "sick days" from school getting high, and moreso swapping money with little bags of whatever drug you were experimenting that week.

So it seemed to make absolutely no damn sense  tonight as to why he magically was concerned over your drug use-the drug he sold you. That he was so big a coward about stopping you-he sent his little brother to break the news.

However, it did made sense that when Ashtray first spoke today, you wanted to punch him in the face. A little horrible, yes, but so was ghosting someone you knew practically your whole life.

"Cmon, I was here 2 weeks ago. Tell Fez to give me something and I'll go."

"I told you, he ain't coming, Y/N-" Ashtray repeated for the dozenth time, bolting each of the locks and ignoring your gaze at him, "go home."

Ashtray began to close back the door, and that's when the rush of emptiness you were familiar with travelled into you. When Ashtray said that, the want to stay with Fez only seemed to hurt more.

Home.

Home was empty, absolutely empty without getting high.

And the second you were told to leave, your eyes started to sting with the tears that were about to erupt. Of course, you had to keep your cool. Sane people don't cry over drugs.

"You can't be serious," you said, a smile slowly of disbelief slowly curling on your lips-which didnt seem to hide the choking in your throat as you spoke.

Maybe if you cheered up, this would have all been some cruel joke. Fez would've been joking, and for would've been a cruelly long amount of time to withhold the drugs he gave you all those other times, he'd give you a little bit more for the inconvenience.

Ashtray would call you a vampire or whatever childish taunt he could think of as a he placed a small bag of xanax and fentanyls in your hand. You'd stop feeling sad, even if it was just for a few hours.

But no.

He was ditching you.

Just like everyone else. And without an excuse as to why.

"Tell Fez to get down here. Now."

"I can't, Y/N."

"Weak little bitch," you insulted, despite a small bit of guilt looming in the back of your brain. You weren't usually this rude, but right now it didn't seem to matter. Fez was leaving you, and he didn't even have the balls to tell you straight up-he sent his little brother to do it.

"He's trying to save your stubborn ass," Ashtray muttered at last, disregarding your little dig at him. His footsteps walking farther and farther away were the last thing you heard.

You let out a huff in frustration, and whatever bit of slight worry you had in moments prior had transferred into your fists, and from fear to anger.

There was no use in caring if they saw you cry or sob. No one was listening, just like always. Your tears were relentless, streaming down your face as you began to choke out sobs.

Everything from the fear of losing every high that became a normalcy for you, how stupid you were for craving it, and the safety of Fez himself seemed to scream in your head, reminding you of everything you were about to lose if he didn't let you in.

"Fez, get your ass out here! I hate you, you know that! You fucking invite me in your house, you let me come, you give me drugs. Now you're wimping out and and can't be a man and tell me to my face why?"

Silence.

The panging withdrawals nagging at your chest you came to alleviate with drugs in the first place made the heaviness in your throat from crying and screaming that much more unbearable. But knowing the one person you truly liked was ending things had to be the most painful.

"You know what, I trusted you. Fuck-I trusted you ok? Please. Please don't fucking leave like everyone else. At least have the decency to tell me why you're being an asshole and leaving!"

Suddenly, you heard the door knob rustling open, and through a small crack of the door you could see a piercing blue eye, one that looked to be bloodshot and reddish-staring straight at you.

Never in your life had you seen Fez cry.

At least he looked like he had been trying to hide it. He rubbed his eyes slowly, and despite trying not to make wiping his tears obvious. Which failed, because he still looked more sad than he did tired. And his attitude wasn't doing your sympathy for him any favors.

"Dammit, Y/N. For the love of God shut the hell up. Half the neighbors can hear you right now."

"Maybe if you just gave me some stuff like I asked a few minutes ago, I wouldn't have to be screaming for you to come out here."

"Y/N, you can't come over here asking for that shit anymore."

You rolled your eyes, leaning your head on the door. His one eye visible through the door was now only a few centimeters parallel to your own.

"And why the hell not? Why the hell not Fez?"

Fez stayed silent, which was becoming your biggest pet peeve with him. He was always a closed book, but it made no sense for him to pull some savior complex like he wasn't the one dealing you drugs in the first place. Impatient from waiting, you spoke again.

"You got a lot of attitude for someone who can't be upfront with me. At least I'm actually fucking honest. Tell me."

"I can't, Y/N."

"Bullshit. Bullshit, Fez," you say, pointing your finger in his face.

"You don't get to just back away from giving me drugs like you're some little angel. If you're gonna cut me off, cut the savior BS and tell me why."

"Y/N..." Fez paused, opening the door finally. With the door open a bit more, an ounce of regret consumes wash you when you finally see his whole face. He was blinking constantly and staring at the ceiling, but this time the tears were too much to hide and ran down his face.

"Fez," you let out softly, taking a deep breath before speaking again, "look at me. whatever you're too upset to tell me has to be a lot worse than not having a buyer anymore. Tell me what's wrong."

Fez's head finally turned to face you, and you found comfort of him finally acknowledging you. Still, you felt guilty for being the reason why he was upset at all.

"I don't like seeing you like this. All drugged and fucked up because of me. Every time I see you, you're all sick like a ghost. Walking around Casper and shit. I don't want you to die."

You let out a gulp, and suddenly the pit of guilt in your stomach seems to leave you inching away from where your eyes met.

This had to be a trick.

He had to be fucking with you.

Someone-Fez of all people, caring about you?

"Why do you care if I die, Fez? It's not like anyone else does."

Fez began to choke out a sob as he spoke, but he got to the point. You just didn't expect for him to be a gushing mess of sadness as he said those words.

"S-Shit, Y/N. It's 'cuz I love you."

He had to be fucking with you-because otherwise-you felt like the biggest asshole in the universe. Were you this oblivious?

But at the same time, it felt kind of good feeing guilty right now. If you felt bad, this was legit. Someone finally gave a shit-you just didn't expect it to be the person who usually let you fuck your body up in the first place. It was under ironic circumstances, sure, but it was good to know.

Actually being loved.

"I didn't know Fez. I'm sorry."

"Nah," he said, sniffling once and wiping the tears staining his cheek one more time.

"But I can't be letting you get fucked up anymore. I know I made this all awkward and shit. And you don't feel-"

You refused to let him finish, pausing his speech and slowly tugging his arm to follow you outside, where the rain still rushing onto the ground poured heavily on the both of you.

You held both your hands on either side of his cheeks, inching his face and lips into yours, leaning for a kiss, before you pulled back.

"Yes I do. And thank you."

"For what?"

"For loving me. For caring."

For the first time today, you saw an expression on Fez that didn't make you feel like you committed the worst crime in the world. He smiled.

And that usual worry you always saw in his eyes? Gone. He was relaxed, happier, and with you.

To your surprise, he pulled you closer by the waist, returning his lips back to yours. It lasts for a few minutes before you both pull back for air.

"I love you, Y/N."

"I love you too, Fez."

"I just can't-"

"I know," you nod, wrapping your arms around his neck. "No drugs."

After a few moments passed, you said your goodbyes and returned home.

Sobriety was going to be hard from now on, but whenever temptation slipped your mid, Fez was always the immediate thought. The person you loved most-of course he came first.

So as much as withdrawals had hurt some days, you had to do it for yourself, and for him.

You were going to get better in time, and with Fez as a reason to push forward, every day became slightly easier.