Can be read as just Fez and Ash, or you or Lexi doing the things with them.
But basically this is how I wish things turned out.
Once Marijuana becomes legal, Fez’s shop becomes a dispensary.
Not instantly, but over time, when he starts to slowly make a plan to reach the goal of a Farm somewhere in the countryside
Fez sees the rise in violent behavior in Ash,
He realizes that if he does not find an outlet for Ash, Ash will end up in prison for murder
So when he sees a boxing class flyer, he suggests it to Ash
Ash gets really into it,
He works out there almost every day and is actually good at it
The trainer starts to coach Ash, and soon he enters competitions, and even though he doesn’t say it, he secretly wishes he could go pro,
Ash tries out other styles of fighting, and in a few years he is a semi-pro fighter
By then, Fez Dispensary is the most popular in town; he not only has great weed but also sells the perfect snacks to go with it.
He transforms the parking lot into a hangout spot (far enough away from the shop's entrance for him to still have space).
He even creates a drive-through weed pickup
Over the years, he had gone legit, and with Laurie gone now, he doesn’t have to worry about people messing him up, or trying to extort him for his past
Finally, he finds a nice piece of land, and starts planting his own weed and trying to create his own strains.
Ash stays behind in the city, taking care of the shop and working on his boxing career.
Fez comes to town frequently during harvest and to check on how things are.
Even though Ash is still violent, he is no longer uncontrollable; his trainer made him disciplined, and only on occasion, when people mess with Ash or his friends, (romantic) partners, or girls out on the street, does he step up and put an end to it
Fez smokes his Blunt now on the porch of the farmhouse in the evening sun instead of the couch.
Request: A deal goes bad, and Fez is pissed, but gets all soft when he comes home to you at night
TW: mention of blood, 1 ableist word rest fluff
Word Count: 2k
Fez was stocking up some beer in his shop. Ash was in the back, counting some cash and sorting out some product. But they were just waiting. A college party was happening at some rich guy's house, and he wanted to get some product for it.
The guy was your typical Nate Jacobs, thinking the entire world is there to serve him. But Fez could not care less; he was making bank so he could deal with him for the two minutes he was there.
“Ash, you sort out the package?” Fez was standing by the cooler door, watching his brother stack some cash.
“Yeah, but we running low on Molly.”
“How much?”
“Short 20 Pills.” Fez rubbed his shaved head.
“How we running short on Molly, we just got a batch?”
Ash shrugged, unbothered, still counting cash. “Supplier was low, so we low. Playboy just gonna have to deal with it.” Ash snorted, “Yeah,” Fez was itching for a Blunt, “if he gives you trouble just hollar.”
Ash looked at him like he was crazy, as if the richie rich guy would fuck with either of them. Ash could bet the rich college guy had never even thrown a punch.
Fez sat outside smoking, relaxing, waiting. He normally enjoyed just sitting around watching the world pass in front of him, sometimes selling some drinks and cigarettes, but nothing more. Fez liked that; it gave him time to think.
A BMW raced into the parking lot, not caring about Fez sitting in a chair. Fez could tell from the way the guy carelessly stopped by Fez’s chair that the guy was pissed. Or more accurately, entitled and pissed that someone said no. It was a richie-rich guy. Fez did not bother to learn his name.
“You got my stuff?”
Fez already wanted to punch that guy.
“Ain’t your stuff yet, playboy.” Fez walked past him into the shop, towards the backroom.
Ash knew that when Fez showed up with the guy, the guy would be difficult. Normally, Fez just pointed towards the backroom and let Ash deal with shit, while he kept an eye out.
Fez stood to the side, watching the guy- Sandy brown hair, all-American smile, probably a football player, or some shit, Fez thought.
“We got...” Fez tuned out Ash, just waiting for this deal to be over.
“I said, 50 Mollies.”
“Yeah, well, we got 30.” Ash said, in his usual ‘I don’t give a fuck’ way.
“I don’t care,” the guy glared at Ash, “When I say I want 50, I want 50.”
Ash just leaned forward, rage already building. “Yeah, shit outta luck, playboy,” Fez added.
The guy turned to Fez. “I know you two are retards, but I thought you guys could at least count to 50.”
Fez just stared back, “We ain’t doing this today. I am telling you we got 30; either take it or get the fuck outta here and find a new supplier.”
“Wow, you are such a tough guy.” The dude stepped up to Fez, trying to intimidate him like he was some schoolyard bully, in his letterman jacket and khaki pants.
Fez just stared at him. “I am telling you, take it or leave it.”
The guy had gotten redder in the face the more Fez told him no.
Then he made the mistake of pulling his hand out of his letterman jacket too quickly. Before the guy knew what happened, Fez grabbed his arm and headbutted him, and Ash jumped over the desk.
“The fuck you think you doing?” Fez said, pushing the guy against the wall, holding him there, while Ash patted the guy down.
“Fuck,” the guy groaned, his nose bleeding from Fez’s forehead. “What the fuck, dude.”
Ash pulled out some cash and a phone. No gun.
Fez gave the guy a final push. “You lucky as hell you don’t got a gun on you or I’d beat you with it.”
Ash threw the phone back at the guy's feet and started counting the cash. He pushed the package towards the guy.
“Take it and get the fuck out of here,” Ash said.
The guy was still holding his nose, hesitating about whether to say something.
But before he could, Ash pocketed all of the money. “Look at it as a dumbass tax.”
It was clear the guy wasn't running the show here, so he took the package and raced out of the parking lot.
Fez, forehead hurt from that prick's nose, and was ready just to go home and chill. Tired of dealing with ‘them rich entitled” people, walking up into his shop as if they were someone better than him just because he is a drug dealer, and yet still buying his products. But he had to make money. So he went outside to his chair again and lit up a blunt, in the hope of easing the headache already forming.
Two hours later, they closed up the shop tight, ready to get out of here. Ash and he were driving in silence, listening to Tupac.
Ash glanced at Fez, who had a slightly pained expression on his face. He was not sure what had happened to Fez- something about a hit to the head when he was younger, but he got headaches sometimes, and it seemed he was struggling right now. Ash might not care a lot about things or people, but he did care about his brother. So he begrudgingly texted you.
Ash: Bad delivery.
You: *thumps up*
Fez breathed a sigh of relief when they pulled up at their house.
“I ain’t gonna get up from the couch anytime soon,” Fez commented.
“Criminal Minds marathon tonight on TV, so why wouldya,” Ash commented, unlocking the door.
The smell of freshly cooked bolognese sauce hit them simultaneously. The house was quiet, except for a soft hum from the kitchen.
Fez involuntarily smiled, and Ash rolled his eyes at the love-struck look that overcame Fez’s face.
Fez made his way up the hall towards the kitchen. You were wearing one of his long shorts, and shorts underneath your apperion you discovered some time ago. It was beige with dots and frills at the seam. You had looked at him in question, trying to picture Fez wearing it. Fez had blushed and mumbled it belonged to his grandma.
Arms wrapped themselves around you, making you jump. “Are you trying to give me a heart attack?” You smiled over your shoulder at Fez.
Fez pressed his face into the crook of your neck, mumbling something you could not quite catch.
You decided it was not important and just leaned back into him, your left arm coming up, cradling his head, scratching your nails against his scalp.
Ash was watching from the door; he would find it annoying, but he saw the way the tension left Fez’s shoulders, and suddenly he was glad you were here.
“Hun, you gotta loosen the grip a bit; I need to check the Spaghetti.” Instead of letting go, he just shuffled you with him, still attached to the stove.
That just made you chuckle; turning in his embrace, you took his face in your hands. “Sweetheart,” you only used that pet name when you were about to be bossy. “Go take a shower, change into your PJs, and then get your butt out here. Dinner will be done by then.” You gave him a peck on the lips. Not giving him a chance to deepen it, but instead turning around to check on the food.
Fez sighed, but followed your instructions. As usual, you were right; the cold water of the shower and the fresh PJs helped him rid himself of the annoyance of the day.
He came out with a simple grey shirt and his M&Ms PJ pants, which you found adorable on him.
Ash was sitting there like a grumpy child, also in PJs and freshly showered. Fez guessed you had forced him to take a shower too.
The table was set: two pots, one with sauce, one with spaghetti, and a bowl of salad. On the table, the light was dim, and Fez was thankful for it, since his head still hurt a bit. Faye was sitting there happily waiting for the food.
“Before we start,” you held Fez's hand and reached out to Faye, who was on your right. “We all say something we are grateful for today.” It was a tradition you had enforced. At first, Ash resisted and ignored you, but you kept smiling and saying the same thing before dinner. Eventually, you wore Ash down.
“I’ll start,” you volunteered, “I am grateful for the walk I took today, since I met a cat that was super sweet and let me pet her.”
Fez snorted; it was so like you. He still held your hand; his left was in Ash, and he squeezed it in warning to play nice with you. “Well, ma, I am grateful for this food right now.” “Second that,” came the voice of Faye, slightly out of it. “You can’t just take my answer,” Ash protested. It made you giggle. “Well then, let’s not wait any longer.” You said, getting up to start serving.
At first, you were appalled by the way both Fez and Ash ate, more like inhaled their food. Slumping over the table, stretching their neck towards the spoon instead of the other way around, but you had gotten used to it. Smiling at the brothers. Dinner was silent, aside from the boys' moans of appreciation.
You kept your hand on Fez’s back, occasionally running your hand up and down. You were grateful for the heads up Ash gave you. You hated the risk and stress that came with Fez’s line of work, and even though he always seemed mellow, you learned to read when he had tension in his body.
“So good, ma.” Fez leaned back in his seat, rubbing your thigh in appreciation. Giggling, you kissed him on the forehead, grabbing the dirty plates. Fez wanted to follow you, but you directed him to the couch. “Just gonna clean the table real quick. The dishes can wait until tomorrow.”
Ash grabbed his plate, and Fayes brought them into the kitchen before making his way into his room. Before closing the door, he gave you a quick nod in thanks.
Smiling to yourself, you made your way back to the couch. Faye announced she wanted a bath and made her way down the hall.
Taking your place next to Fez, you snuggled up right to his side. Some show was playing in the background, and he had a blunt in his hand. You breathed him in, the scent of tabakko and cologne on his sweater. You played with his gold chain around his neck, smiling that he always wore it. For some reason, you found it incredibly sexy.
Fez pressed a kiss to your forehead. “I appreciate you, ma,” he whispered.
You leaned closer into Fez. “I got you, and you got me, okay?” Instead of answering, Fez leaned down, slowly kissing you. His left arm around you and the other on your cheek, holding the blunt in his fingertips away from you. He pressed a kiss to your forehead, “You got me,” to your nose, “and I got you,” he whispered in between before kissing you once more.
Pulling back, he looked at you with his baby blue eyes, “If ya are here, and cooking like this, when I come home, I finna never let you leave.”
“Hm, maybe that was my plan all along.” You kissed him again, deeper, slower, “Come on,” you dragged him back, lying on the couch; he nestled between your legs, lying on your chest. You stole his blunt, resting on the lean of the couch, pressing a small kiss to Fez's forehead. You stayed like this for a while, smoking, watching TV, and laughing at whatever dumb shit they did, your nails scratching on his scalp. You felt him slowly getting heavier on you, and shortly after, you heard him snore slightly. Smiling to yourself, you whispered: “I love you, sweet dreams, my love,” and turned down the TV volume.
Taglist: @tez0
Note: I continue publishing my work only when I see people engaging; otherwise, I'll stop since I'll assume no one likes it.
hiii could you do a fez x reader fic where he’s doing a deal with a client and they start to get mad and it’s a argument and afterwards fez is all soft on reader cus he knows she dosnt like stuff like that
Just to clarify real quick. Do u mean tge reader gets mad and fez and her get into an argument? Or the deal goes south and the client gets mad?
discoholicmusic
theartofmadeline
titsay
gracieabrams
kianamaiart
