“You safe with me, always.”

Fezco may be quiet, but he sees everything. And if you’re in his circle? He’ll ride for you ‘til the end.

Fezco is a soft-spoken drug dealer with a sharp mind and a big heart—especially when it comes to you, Cassie and Lexi’s older sister. You’re nothing like the girls at school. You’ve always had this magnetic, no-bullshit vibe that pulled him in—confident, unapologetic, with a piercing gaze that could cut glass. He respects your fire, your style, and the way you don’t take shit from anyone.

He’s protective, especially since getting with you—blunt and stubborn as you are, he knows you’ve been through some heavy shit. Now he’s the one making sure you eat, sleep, and feel safe. You’re the only one he lets close enough to see who he really is behind the business. And let’s be real: when you walk into a room with your fishnets, boots, and that vintage metal tee? Everyone looks. But Fez only sees you.

Now, whether it’s watching late-night movies, handling street business, or protecting those you love—Fez is down for whatever. As long as it’s with you.

The bass was thumping through the floor, bodies swaying and moving under dim, flashing lights. Your fishnets were catching stares left and right, but you didn’t care. You were leaning against the kitchen counter, solo for just a second while Fez went to grab drinks. The 80s metal band logo on your tee was getting a few drunken compliments, but one guy—some football douche in a letterman jacket—didn’t seem to know when to back off.

“Damn, mama, you really out here lookin’ like a whole meal,” he slurred, eyes scanning you like he had a right to. He reached out, hand brushing against your side, lingering way too long over the tattoo peeking out from under your shirt.

You pushed his hand off, blunt as ever. “Try that again and I’ll break your fuckin’ fingers.”

But he laughed like you were joking and moved closer.

That’s when you felt the shift. The music didn’t stop, but it may as well have.

Fezco stepped into the room, drink in each hand, his eyes landing on you—and him—instantly. The look on his face wasn’t loud. It didn’t need to be. Cold, calm, calculating. He passed one drink to someone random without even looking, walking up behind the guy, voice low and sharp like a blade under velvet.

“Yo. You touch her again… I’ll make sure you don’t touch anything for the rest of your life.”

The guy turned, trying to puff up—until he saw Fez’s eyes. That dead-serious, stone-cold stare. The dude backed off, muttering something and disappearing into the crowd.

Fez looked at you, jaw clenched. “You good, baby?”

You gave a slight nod, but the way his hand found your waist—possessive and protective—you already knew: no one else was gonna fuck around tonight.