#i was depressed when i should be studying and now we're stuck in this hell-country

[maranull]

today was/is somewhere around 32-35ºC and my boy is feeling the heat

[everyhowlmarksthedead]

BUSINESS AND PLEASURE

Johnny “Coco” Cruz x Chibs Telford’ daughter!Reader

“What if you should move to Santo Padre for two months...”

Chapter one.

Word count: 3.4k

Author comments: I hope you all enjoy. English isn’t my first language, so I’m sorry if I have some mistakes with grammar. Gif credits: @angels-reyes.

Thanks to my lovely beta reader and partner in crime with this one, @chibsytelford 💘

Tag list: @starrynite7114 @dazzledamazon @chibsytelford @mara-mpou @sammskellington 💥 (if you wanna be tagged, send me a message!)

Since you've been forced to move from Glasgow to Charming, your life has been a roller coaster with noisy falls into hell. Some days you were fine, the rest you were only available to create chaos around you. Your mother died because of a terminal disease, after fighting for two years, and the last time you saw your father before that it was when you were a child. Came to live with him after twelve years without no contact, except for a few calls every month, it was hard. Harder than he could imagine. 

The first days you were locked in the room he enabled to you in his house, where you only had a bed, a nightstand and a wardrobe. No picture, no colors around, nothing. It was kinda depressing. At least, he tried. He tried to re-build the good relationship you two have had in the past, before your mother kicked his ass out of Scotland, when Clay said he needed him at California, with the Sons'. 

Filip used to cook your favourite dishes, having had to learn to cook before. At first you only ate two or three bites, until one morning when you woke up hearing him screaming in scottish. You've never heard him so angry, and that scared you. Barefoot and silently, you went out of your room, sticking your head by the door frame of the kitchen. Unbelievable. He was arguing with his phone. Specifically with YouTube. You could see how he was watching a recipe of baked fish. It sounded easy, right? The problem was the sauce. Apparently he forgot to add some ingredients, and he had to repeat it from the start.

“Shit!” He shouted hitting the marble countertop, supporting his fist on it with his head down and a sigh in his mouth. “Fuckin' pepper and fuckin' lemon”.

“I don't like”. You said in a whisper, getting out of your hiding place. 

He turned at you frowned and upset, leaning against the furniture. Cross-armed, he shook his head with his gaze on the floor. You knew how frustrated he was, trying to kick you out of that sadness that it was consuming you. You lost your mother, you had to move out of your country, from the cold to the heat. And you truly hated sunny days. 

“I just... wanna make you feel like you're at home”. He said kinda desperately, scratching his head hard, completely disheveled. “I know this is not Scotland, nor your house. It's ok if you miss it, but this situation is killing me too. So, please, give me a break...”

You heard every word he told you, feeling the same knot he felt on his chest, and his voice about to drown in tears. You walked slowly towards him, looking inside your head for the correct things to say.

“I like the way you cook, but you scared the shit out of me, 'cause I didn't know you were shouting at YouTube”. You thought maybe some kind of joke could help, while he was holding your hands. “I don't like pepper, nor lemon, so it's fine. Maybe... we could have lunch together, if you're not busy with the club”.

“Fuc' da' club, caileag”. For the first time, you saw him smiling and it was amazing. “Do you think everything will be fine?” He sounded sad, simply sad. But you nodded without any doubt.

“We will be fine, athair”.

That was all he needed to hear. Chibs leaned towards you, placing a hand behind your head to leave a kiss on your forehead. Your hands held on his waist in a warm hug that you were wanting to give him since you arrived to Cali.

━━━━━━ (One year later) ━━━━━━

But what happened next was totally unexpected. You hear Happy talking with his prospect, around the corner of the workshop, about a dangerous mission they have to take care of, keeping them for two months out of Charming. And by Chibs decision, you're not coming. But he didn't tell you anything about it, before. Walking in the front yard, you find six motorbikes and a van you don't recognize from your charter, but belong to an MC. You're angry, so angry. Your steps are heavy and big, going faster to the clubhouse, taking off the rings of your fingers to keep them inside the pocket. You open the door suddenly, without warning the men who seems mexican sitting closer to your father. You only can see that fucking scottish who made a promise he's not gonna keep. And he sees the fury burning in your orbs. 

“Oh, shit”. It's everything he can say before one of your fists go straight to his face.

“Woah, woah, take it easy, chamaca!” One of the unknown man talks, trying to walk next to you, until you point it at him with the gun you had tucked under your shirt. All the men raise their hands with their eyes so much opened, letting you know that they're not gonna interfere again.

Time have passed. Some wounds has been closed and you have got used to the heat of the coast. Now, you're not who you used to be. SAMCRO changed you, having its good things and its bad things. You lost all the innocence you had, learning to defend yourself by fighting body-to-body and shooting weapons of different calibers. Happy and Tig usually try to catch you by surprise hitting you, but your faster than their old asses, blocking every hit that comes from nowhere. And sometimes you ‘play’ paintball with Juice on his free day. You're one of the Redwood family, being included in every mission one way or another, working hand by hand with the prospect; with the minimal difference that your father is your sponsor. This gives you two some problems because of the strong character you have inherited from him. And there are some times when you end up being beaten. The crew is used to it.

You turn to your father, who is rubbing his right cheek between some groans, supporting a hand on the pool table. You're breathing distressed with your eyes full of tears. You know how it works. When he leaves Charming, you don't have any notices for almost one week. You live every day with the pain of not knowing if he's still alive or not. Two months is too long. You can't even live without him at this point of your life, how are you supposed to do it?

“You promised me!” You yell at him pointing your chest with your own forefinger. “You said ‘us against the world’! You said it!”

Your voice is breaking, drowned by the tears that run down your face and your neck.

“You're a fucking liar! You're doin' the same you did thirteen years ago!” Yes, you can see how your words are affecting him, but you don't care. 

“Baby, listen...” He tries to give some steps towards you, receiving a push on his chest.

“I don' wanna hear more bullshit”. Putting the gun again behind your back, you turn to the front door, with a slight pause next to the other charter. “By the way”. You stare to the man you pointed seconds ago. “Next time I'm talking to my father, you shut the fuck up...” Reading his patch, you raise your eyes at him. “Presidente”.

You slam the door shut after you leave, seeing Happy next to your motorbike. He knows you know what is gonna happen by the tears running your cheeks. But even if you don't wanna talk with him, being your confidant since you came to Charming, he wraps strongly your body with his arms before you can run away from him. Crying inconsolably, you hide your face on his chest without moving your arms, only supporting your weight against him. Happy rest his chin on your head with a sigh, 'cause he knows well how much you suffer when your father attends a mission out of town.

“Are you leaving too?” You finally ask, even when you don't wanna hear the answer. He nods slowly, cleaning your tears with his long fingers.

“I'm sorry. I promise I'll try to write you”. He says hoarsely. “I'm sure you didn't let Chibs explain himself, but listen… Not even my prospect is coming. It's really dangerous for you two, we're gonna be ok, (Y/N)”.

“Who are they? What are they doing here?”

“They're Mayans, from Santo Padre. Oscar and Canche ‘family’. We can't leave you here, alone, without any protection. So, Chibs asked them to take care of you while we're out”.

Now you understand what's happening. It's suppose you should move from Charming to the south Cali, surrounded by men you don't know. Leave your house, again. Your cry appears again, shaking your head with some sobs stuck on your throat.

“Baby, listen, listen”. Happy try to have your attention cupping your face between his hands. “They're good men, they're gonna take care of you. And Canche will go to Santo Padre every week to see you”.

“I don' wanna go, Happy. I wanna go with you, please”. You beg in tears, with your lips trembling.

“(Y/N), you can't”. He sentences, trying not to sound too rude. He snort closing his eyes for a second. “Listen, they also have a car scrapping. You can work there. You like cars and you studied to be mechanic. 'Am sure these two months gonna' pass so fast that you're not gonna notice it”.

The front door of the club house gets opened. You turn for a while, just to see how the men gets out of it. You sigh, looking at Happy again. And you nod, even when you don't want to do it. Pulling yourself away from him, you're heading towards your motorcycle. In silence, after fastening the helmet, you start the engine. If you have to leave Charming you wanna do it as soon as possible. So, it's time to pack your stuff.

And that is what you're doing, when you hear your father's keys opening the door. His footsteps coming close to you, watching sideways how he leans against the door frame arm-crossed. Your basic clothes are already inside the suitcase on the bed, closing the zip after checking again that you have taken everything you could need. In the bag next to it, you keep your laptop, your headphones and all the chargers, in addition to other things.

“Please, talk to me”. Chibs says, but there's no answer from you. “I didn't know how to tell you, and I'm sorry, honey. But I promise...”

“Don't”. You turn at him raising your forefinger. “Don't make any promise you're not gonna keep, Filip”.

He knows you're truly sad when you call him by his real name. Chibs walks towards you, holding your hands slowly hoping that you're not gonna push him away again.

“Bishop and his guys 'gonna take care of you. And Happy said he told you about ‘Romero and Brothers’. I'm pretty sure you're gonna have fun there”. He's trying to make you understand.

“I don' care. I'm gonna be away from you”. You finally say, letting go all the pain you have inside your chest, oppressing your heart. “And you're not allowed to text me, nor call me. Could you imagine how distressing it feels?”

“'You think it isn't for me? I'm not stone cold, even if sometimes it's what it looks like, (Y/N). I think about you all the time. About what you're doing at any moment. If you're eating well, if you're sleeping... All the fucking time”. He replies trying to hide his anger. “But I need to protect you. And there aren't better hands than Bishop's”.

You nod. You don't want to continue arguing with him. Filip hugs you tightly, hiding your face on his neck, trying to not break in cry again. Your hands clinging on the back of his shirt. You're not sure how many time you have been like this, when your father decides that he should call the Mayans to pick you up.

The roars of motorcycles, coming just in time, have your attention. You take your stuff, rolling the suitcase over the floor till you find them outside. Your father takes it to keep it inside the van, before saying goodbye.

“They're gonna take care of you, ok?” He says again, holding your cheeks between his hands. You nod in silence about to cry. Leaving a kiss in your forehead, he hugs you. “If I can, I will text you. I promise. And I'll keep that one”.

“Two months?” You ask raising your gaze at him.

“I'll be back before your birthday”. Assures you. “I love ya' more than anything. You know, rai'?”

You nod again swallowing, before leaving one last caresses in your left cheek, cleaning the tear that falls down through it.

“You're going with my man, Coco”. Bishop talks, with the helmet covering his head while he wears both leather gloves. 

“And my bike?” You turn to your father with more dramatism than necessary.

“It's in the van too, don' worry”. Chibs answers, hitting twice one of the doors. “Canche could need you”.

“Or us”. The Mayans president add with a soft smile on his lips.

Things starts to change, when you're conscious that you will continue working with the charters even if yours isn't present. So, at least, it's not gonna be that bad as you thought. 

“I'm sorry 'I pointed you with my gun”.

“What I can expect from Chibs' daughter? It would have scared me more if you hadn't, after everything we've heard from you”. Your father chuckles because of the words of the Mayan. “Ready?”

You hug him again, taking some seconds to memorize his smell to not forget it at all.

“I love you”. You whisper, pulling him away softly, before walk to the front passenger seat of the van.

But, before the man could start the car, your father makes a last appearance, pointing with the forefinger to all the men presents there.

“If anyone of you touch my daughter, I'll cut off your cock and make you eat it”. The Mayans know that it's not a joke, so they nod agreeing.

“I've a daughter. Her name is Letti”. The mexican accent, camouflaged in the foreign language, pushes you out of your thoughts. “She's sixteen, but I think you could be fren'”. 

━━━━━━ ﹅ ━━━━━━

The sun is falling when you leave the ‘Welcome to Charming’ sign behind the van. You sigh heavily settling in your seat. The fresh air that enters by the open window makes fly some strands of your hair, supporting both arms against the door, with your chin on it, to watch out of the car the sunset on the horizon. It's gonna be hard, you know it, but at least you will have Canche visiting you every week. Maybe Oscar comes from Stockton too.

“Yea', maybe...” You say, turning for a second.

Coco turns the radio, hoping that music makes you feel better, looking for a channel without interferences. Then, you hear your favourite song, turning to the hand that is moving the calibrator. The man stares at you with curiosity, before turning up the volume. The melody continues, while you go back to your position leaving your cheek this time and closing your eyes to focus in the song.

“Hey, oh, listen what I say, oh! I got your hey, oh! Now listen what I say, oh!”

You're about to give him the silent treatment, but that only has bad points in your favor. You'll have to live and work together for the next months, so sooner or later, you're gonna have to talk him.

The first time you listened that song, you were living with your parents in Glasgow. You can remember your father singing it to you all the time, before go to Charming. So, listen to it again causes you bittersweet feelings.

“I like the Red Hot' too”. Coco says trying to be kind, while his fingers drum the steering wheel to the beat of the music. You have to say that he has a funny voice and hearing him singing sounds like a dying cat. That makes you chuckle. “Hey! What's up, mami? Don' laugh on me!”

“Sweet Jesus Christ, you're gonna make it rain”. Your laughter is loud now, capturing president attention who slows down to reach your window.

“It's everything ok, uh?” He shouts over the sound his motorbikes does.

“I hope he has a good aim, 'cause he couldn't work as singer!” You say in laughs.

“He's a veteran Marine, kid! What do you think?” Bishop accelerates to return to his place, while you turn to the driver, truly surprised. He has a triumphal smile on his face and his gaze in front.

“These motherfuckers discharged me because I used a rifle to shoot a cigar out of an officer's mouth”. He tells you. “I was three hundred meters from him”.

This is amazing and you feel the curiosity growing inside you. Curling your legs on the seat, putting around them your arms, you stare at the Mayan.

“Can you tell me about it?”

“'Bout wha'?” He asks looking at you for a second a little confused.

“About the Marine”.

He frowns, looking at you again.

“You wanna hear 'bout it?”

“I'm not asking you about the Area Fifty One”. You say with a sharp voice shrugging.

“I'm pretty sure that would be a good talk too”.

“C'mon! It's a long travel!” It almost seems like you're starting to beg, but the topic of the Navy and Marine has always interested you.

“It's weird!”

“Why?”

“Cuz' nobody has asked me 'bout it before”. He says with the same confusion you saw on him before.

“So bad is it...?”

“No, it's... cool. Pretty cool”. He replies with a slight smile on his face.

“I wanted to enlist in the British Army, but my mother said it was too dangerous for me. So, I didn't”. Your voice trembles for a second, and he realizes it.

“Sorre' 'bout your mom, Chibs told us”. He says after a moment in silent. “I killed mine”.

Your face shows a similar gesture of horror, he shrugs exaggeratedly.

“That bitch hit my daughter, and hurt her so bad. She also forced her to have a ‘bad life’, 'you know what I mean. She deserved it”. The calm with which he explains overwhelms you.

You're starting to think he hasn't had a good life. But who in their right mind would work for an MC? Not you, neither does he.

“And your mother hate you so bad that she called you ‘Coconut’?” You try to finish the tension installed inside the van with somewhat bad joke.

“The fuck told you that's my name?” He breaks in laughter, shaking his head, accidentally giving a flywheel. 

“Oh, shit”. Both say in unison. The charter looks back.

“My bad!” He shouts sticking his head out the window for a moment.

“Then? What's your name?”

“Johnny Cruz. And everyone calls me Coco”.

“Why?”

“We're not in that level yet, mami”. He imitates the sharp voice you used before.

“Ok, but, are you gonna tell me about the Marine?”

He sighs rolling his eyes, before showing you again his smile. So, there you are, lying on your seat stretching legs crossed on the dashboard of the van. He starts to talk, of course with the funny story of how he enlisted and all the chaos he created, compensating for it with his good aim. His voice is so calm, that if you close your eyes, you could think is one of those podcast people use to sleep; without the part of shooting, murdering, and all the bloody stuff. 

Actually, you did. You closed your eyes, opening it when the night has fallen. You yawn, putting your legs on the floor of the van.

“Sorry, I didn't sleep last night”. You apologize with flushed cheeks, rubbing your eyes.

“It's ok, mami. Te ves bonita mientras duermes”. (You look pretty while you're sleeping). He says.

“What did you say?” You ask, pretending that you don't speak spanish, but the truth is that you studied it for three years while you were living in Scotland.

“That you were drooling everything”. He lies so bad that he's a little nervous. “We're almost reaching to Santo Padre”.

“Great... Home, sweet home, isn'it?”