#but I've been using crane-talk for both so fuck it. new year new tag

[shsl-analyzer-guy]

hey I'm making a new tag specifically for when I'm screaming into the void but it's directed at my mutuals. Hiiiiiiii mutuals I hope you're doing well and that the end of the year is good for you all <3

[everyhowlmarksthedead]

CALI COAST.

Filip “Chibs” Telford x Reader

Anon asked: Hiya, love your writing!! I’d like to request a chibs Imagine about a him falling for a female mechanic at TM. Thank you 😊

Word Count: 3.6k

Thanks to my lovely beta reader @chibsytelford 💘

Author comments: I hope you all enjoy. Gif credits to the author.

Tag list: @starrynite7114 ​ @chibsytelford ​ @dazzledamazon ​ @mara-mpou ​ @sammskellington ​ @gemini0410 ​ @1-800-imagines ​ @briana-mishell24 ​ @sassymox @whyisgmora @aquamento @sadeyesgf @viviansafizada ✨ (if you wanna be tagged, send me a message!)

Driving the car crane, carrying a blue sedan that you were trying to seize for three days, but the owner was such a dickhead till he finally pissed you off and you had to point him with a gun. Tig told you to do it, even if you've never fired one. His face was worth the risk of being reprimanded by Hale. Danny claps at you, when getting off of the crane, you point your new acquisition with both hands and a huge smile on the corner of your lips.

“Tada!” You say with a melodic voice, jumping one time.

“Good job, rookie”. He says urging you to high-five, giving you the ‘seized’ sticker. 

Very proud of your work, you take it to stick it on the front glass, crossing your arms after it to admire your piece of art.

“Ok, let's pull down this big guy”. Danny palms your back, ready to drop the tow and park the car with the rest.

“Ya’, man, who's that lass?” Chibs steps slow down, some meters away from you, hitting Tig's chest with his palm, actually hurting him.

“What the fuck?!” He yells rubbing himself over the kutt.

“She's (Y/N), the new Teller-Morrow mechanic”. Happy comes from nowhere, scaring both men, with no gesture in his face. “She's like a Pop Tart. Sweet and crunchy”.

“Did you already fuck her?” Tig sighs staring at him.

“No”.

“Then, how 'you know she's crunchy?”

“She broke Juice's nose yesterday”.

The men break in laughter, now understanding why his face looks like shit.

“Wha' happened?” Chibs tries to talk, starting to cough because of the loud laughs.

“She just got scared, 'cause he was behind her in silence”. Happy turns at them, narrowing on of his shoulder, making a move with his head to follow him.

The SOA president has been out of Charming for two weeks, taking care of the gun's business at southern Cali. For you, he was just traveling. The guys talked about him a lot in his absence of the club and you were pretty excited to meet him. At least, he's also your boss. So, when Tig shouts your new nickname making you turn, you go immediately with the same smile on your face.

“What's'ap, boss?” You say placing your hands behind your back, covered by the green jumpsuit of the workshop.

“The president”. He says pushing the man into you, with a singsong voice, making the scottish clicks his tongue.

“Just Chibs”. He adds, offering you a hand in somewhat formal greeting.

“Finally!” You say excited narrowing it, actually feeling a little nervous. “I'm (Y/N), but they call me ‘rookie’”.

“Rooke'”?

“Yeah, like a prospect for the club”. You explain then, getting back your hand with the own other.

“And she likes whisky”. Happy puts a forearm on one of the president's shoulder, taking off the toothbrush of his lips. 

“Really? Ya' wan' one? So ya' can tell me where did ya' come from”. The man offers then, turning an arm to the club entrance, and you obviously can't say ‘no’ even if it's ten am and you just finished the first coffee of the day. You nod in silence. 

Tig and Happy continue their way to the workshop, whilst you're walking by the scottish side with the nerves running through your whole anatomy. Everybody knows the Sons of Anarchy, everybody knows what they do even if they didn't see it. You know you don't have to be afraid, nor scared, but you can't help feeling it anyway. In a gentle gesture, the president holds the door for you, smiling slightly coming in. The club is empty, not even music is being played and it's kinda strange. Maybe they prepared before this meeting, so no one could bother you. 

Even if you have been working for the last two weeks, if Filip decides to fire you 'cause you're not what he was looking for Teller-Morrow, he can do it without needing the support of anyone. You like your job and they pay you quite well, having a very flexible schedule, and treating you like another one of the family. So losing it, it's not an option.

You can see the man turning around towards the bar, grabbing two glasses to serve a whisky from an old bottle. You can recognize it. An special edition of Blue Label of Johnnie Walker. You have never tasted before, but you heard about it. Honey and vanilla are the first nuances you can taste having a sip. Chibs is staring at you with a raised eyebrow, waiting for an opinion. Snapping 

“It's sweet, but bitter because of the citrics”.

“Dammet', lass!” He yells excited, hitting the bar, provoking you a chill. “Its true ya' like wheske'”.

“Yea', I... do”. You nod with pursed lips, seeing him walk towards the sofa.

Sitting there, you doubt for a second carrying a chair next to him and leaving your drink on the table, looking around for a second expecting what he wants to know.

“So tel'me. Where 'ya from, where ya' worken'... All thes' thengs'”. Chibs finally says, placing his whisky above the table, leaning towards you with his forearm supported on his lap.

“I'm from Los Angeles, my father had a workshop too, so it's family business”. You explain yourself, not sure what more you can say about your life. “When he died thr—”.

“'Am sorre'bout that”. The president holds your right hand for a while, narrowing it.

“Yea', life's things, I guess”. His touch is firm, looking at both hands sideway, before continue. “Well, ah... It was three years ago. He left me the workshop, but I was alone and I couldn't do it without help, so I had to sell it. I was working with my uncle, till I decided to move on. And... a friend told me about yours and I said... Why not? So, here I am”.

“Hm...” Chibs nods thoughtful resting his back on the sofa, moving his gaze from one side to another in nowhere.

“Listen, ah... I know it took me three days to seize that sedan, and I have no excuses, but I really like this job. I mean, work here”. You look desperate licking your lips and gesticulating more than necessary, not trying to give pity, but asking for another chance.

“Relax, rooke', I'm not gonna keck'yar ass”. His loud laughter, shaking his chin, infects you chuckling. Not sure if because you want, or because you're doing it to please him. “The bike in the backyard, is yars'?”

“It was my father's. He used to run Cali with it, till he couldn't do it anymore. But it's not working. I have to fix it”.

“You wan'me to help ye'?”

The question takes you by surprise, twisting your neck as a dog would do when he's confused. Until now, you have been doing it by yourself, even though you can take her to a workshop and not worry about it. But someone offering himself to help you it's something new. Not actually ‘someone’, but the Sons of Anarchy president. And your boss.

“Yes, yes... I mean, sure. If you have time”.

“Aye! 'Course, lass. Wha' ya' have is a fuckin' gem! Wha'bout tonigh'?”

You don't say anything, but it sounds like a date. And it doesn't surprised you by the way he had to greeting you, when you two met minutes ago. His fingers were a little shaky and you can swear that even his hand was somewhat sweaty. Finally, you nod before he could start to think that you're kinda dumb, having a sip of your whiskey.

“Ya ken'? I had one simila' when I was younga'”. He comments, seeming like the man wants to continue your talk, but doesn't knows how to do it. “I toured Scotlan' whet'et'”.

“I've never been there, but I saw it in photographs. It's an amazing country”. 

“Aye! Et'e—

Some yells outside call your attention, and you recognize the voice by heart, 'cause you have been hearing it for the last three days. Rolling your eyes and getting up, down by the scottish's gaze following you, you walk towards the workshop with a serious gesture on your face and your arms crossed above your chest. The sedan' owner is there, with Hale by his side. You're fucked. 

“She was! She was!” The blonde man is pointing at you accusatory, seeing how the sheriff rubs his eyes. “That bitch pointed me with a gun!”

“Did you?” Hale asks you with a hand resting in the butt of his own gun, hanging from his belt, and the other hanging by a side of his body.

“No, sir. I did—”.

“You, fucking liar!” The man practically jumps to you, being blocked by the SOA president, hitting him straight to his face.

Everything goes so fast that you can't even react. But the scottish is putting you behind his body, after punch the sedan' owner, with a hand thrown back slightly touching your abdomen. Hale is handcuffing him, growling and cursing at you lying on the ground by the sheriff.

“If you say anything else, I'm gonna accuse you of obstruction, do you hear me?” The cop says putting him down, starting to walk next to the car so his co-worker can sit him inside the car. “Do you want to file a complaint?”

This time is coming back towards you, with a sigh on his lips rolling his eyes. You shake your head, hiding out from Chib's back, frowning at the blonde man.

“Don' worry, sir, it's ok”. You say then.

“Tel'im fi' me that he won't get his car back”.

And without saying anything else, he turns at you placing an arm on your shoulders to urge you start to walking back to the workshop.

┅┅ ┅ ┅ ┅┅

When your turn is already finish, you drive back home the enough time to have a shower and changing your clothes for something more comfy taking into account the plan you are going to have. You're also trying to not think that it's a date, even if it was like it sounded. And you can't help but feeling nervous parking by a side of the yard, frowning missed when you notice the fact that there's only a bike. So, your suspicions get confirmed. Actually it's not something that bothers you, after all you've heard about him. Loyalty, strength, sincerity, self-confidence, kind and polite. And an accent pretty funny. So, why not? 

“Wha' ya' thenken'?” Chibs comes from nowhere, scaring you and making you scream. 

The man starts to laugh loud, while your face becomes rude with pursed lips and a hand on your chest trying to calm your heart beat.

“Jesus Christ...”

“Dammet, rooke', it's true ya're ease' to scare!” You sigh rolling your eyes because of his words. “Com'ere, I've alrede' brought yar' bike”.

“DaMmEt, RoOkE”. You joke on him with a high-pitched tone, whilst he's laughing louder.

“Ya' amaze me, lassie. Dinnae' know you talk scottesh'”.

“What the...?” You find yourself laughing too in a relaxed way after a long time, shaking your head with a sigh, going to the workshop illuminated by some lights.

Turning over your steps you notice that the place is practically empty, guessing that Juice took off all the cars by Chibs' petition, playing fool when you find with your gaze two cardboard boxes from your favorite burger joint. Hiding your curiosity and moving your feet next to the old Harley Davidson, you let your fingers travel over the metallic handlebar. Memories crowd your head, one on top of the other, until you collapse. You still haven't driven it, because your father kept it for almost eight years on his garage, till he left. And it doesn't need a lot of fixes, but you haven't been able to get started before. You couldn't, 'cause it's the only thing you have of him.

“When was the... fers' time ya' ride't?”

Turning to the man, finding him supporting his back against the wall with a big cup of coke in his left hand, sipping from the straw. You shrugs your shoulders, taking the other drink to imitate him with your gaze on the matt black motorbike.

“I didn', yet. Alone, I mean... But by my father's back”. You say almost in a whisper. “I was five years old. We toured Cali coast”.

“Cali coast amaze me, et's a good ferst' ride”. He says then, after some seconds in silence. “Ded'ya by night?”

“Dawn, actually”. You answer with a goofy smile on your lips and your eyes on the drink between your hands, playing with the straw. “I... remember that... my father came to my room, to wake me up saying ‘let's go, bunny, adventure time’! He was very excited”.

It's the first time in years that you're talking about him and Chibs looks pretty curious about it, but you're trying not to break your voice. Smiling sideways, you stare at the scottish man, shrugging your shoulders again, not knowing how continue.

“Why ‘bunny’?”

“I like velocity”.

“Oh, realle'? Wha' bike ded'ya have before et'?”

Your cheeks turning red and your lips pursuing second by second, containing a laugh, makes him raises both eyebrows with curiosity.

“A Vespa...?” You mutters biting the straw, while Chibs laughs again. You're starting to love his laugh, no regrets. “Ah, ah, but...! I have a Mustang, so, boom!”

Your left hand imitates the typical gesture of dropping a mic, getting up from the wall to walk towards the food with innocent air, opening one of the bags with your forefinger and having a quickly look.

“Ya'hungre?” He asks then, following your steps to grab boths bags, twisting his neck in a soft gesture to tell you without words about to have a seat.

So you do, on one of the cair placed on the front yard, next to a corner.

“So, what et' needs?”

“Brakes. I need to change them. Now it has ones that are obsolete and I was thinking to put an ABS”. Leaving your drink between your feet, you take the burger Chibs is offering you to unwrap it on your lap.

“Sounds good. Do ya' have them?”

“Yea', I bought them in LA. And I think could be good change the tires, the oil and the handlebar grips, they're a little worn”.

“Tha's'ease fo' ya'”.

“Yeah, but... I didn't want to fix it, actually?”

“Why?”

“I'm scared to have an accident or something, and destroy it. I don' have anything of my father, but his bike”. Having a bite with your gaze on him, you cover your mouth to keep talking. “So, I just... was telling... myself that I didn't have time... to fix it”.

“But we're gonna do 'et!” Chibs exclaim excitedly, opening his arms for a second and holding the burger and the beer in each hand. “I know yar' father prefers to fac'ap his bike, than keep'et in a garage with dust on 'et”.

“Yea', I think so...”.

━━━━━━ ﹅ ━━━━━━

First, knocks on your door. Then your bell ringing. Palming the mattress till you find your phone to watch the clock, you read all the notifications in the locked screen. There are almost eleven lost calls from Chibs and a lot of messages. And it in silence. You practically jump off of your bed, running as never before to the main door, opening it.

“Finally! Jesus Christ, I thought ya' were dead!” 

“What happened? It's everything ok? Sorry, I just fell asleep an—”. You're talking so fast that your tongue ends up making a mess.

Chibs enraptured looking at you from top to down with a goofy smile on his lips, very interested in the Black Sabbath' shirt you're wearing. Clearing his throat, while your gaze travels to the dark van parked in front of your house. Tig and Juice are taking off of it your motorbike. Pushing him away from you, with your left hand on his chest, you take some steps barefoot above the cesped. You're face shows surprise and confusion, believing for a while that you're dreaming or something like that. 

One of his hands wrap your left wrist, urging you to look at him. You're legs shaking for a second. 

“Ya're prette' with messy hair and tha' shirt, but I wanna ride with ya'”. He says then, trying to hide his excitement.

And you want to hide yours, but you can't. You hug him, but not with a normal one. You're rousing and thankful, surrounding his neck with yours arms leaning on your toes. You know he wasn't expecting by the “oh” he mutters kinda surprised, taking some seconds till he finally is able to wrap your back and your waist pushing you closer into him, resting his forehead on your shoulder. Then, Chibs understands why Happy said like you're like a Pop Tart. He knows it tooks you just one second to make him fall in love with you and that the fact of worrying about your favorite take away restaurant, it wasn't only 'cause you're ‘the rookie’. 

The scottish have a deep breathe from your hair, starting to wish he hadn't, because he's falling a little more. And he can't watch his mouth.

“Ya' smell really good”. He tells you with a husky tone on his voice that bristles the skin of your arms.

“Honey and vanilla”. You mutter with pursed lips, before the man making you a gesture to come in your house.

You nod in a hurry, running back to your room looking for the perfect clothes to drive. A comfy pair of jeans, a vaporous shirt, your boots and a leather jacket. Keeping your principal stuff in a bag and grabbing your helmet, you walk towards the main door sooner as you can. The van isn't there anymore but your bike and Chib's one, close to yours, are parked on the sidewalk. He's already waiting sitting on his, turning on the engine when you're wearing the black helmet before keep the bag under the seat, the scottish stares at you with a hug smile and a dearly gesture on his face.

It has been eight years since you heard your father's Harley roaring, and feeling how your body vibrates on it it's simply amazing. You can't even describe how you feel right now, looking at Chibs with that gesture mixing incredulity and surprise. Pressing the brake, but also the gas, the back wheel squeaks without caring if you wake up your neighbors. 

“Let's go, lass!” 

You release the brake, letting your motorbike rolls above the road with a hoarse growl flying off from the engine, being followed by the scottish. He didn't tell you where you're going, but after five days talking about your childhood in Cali, it's pretty clear that he wants to ride the coast with you after seeing the emotions that provokes you the memories doing it with your father. You know well he wants to be part of it, part of your routine and part of your life. And you're letting him come in 'cause, why not?

You know the road by heart, touring it with the fresh dawn's air hitting your face, till it turns with a salty smell after some hours driving in silence, enjoying the landscape views. You're closer to the ocean and you can feel it inside your lungs, closing your eyes for second. Time enough to make you fly back to your childhood. The sound of the engine, the seagull, the waves breaking. Everything is the same as you remember. But you're not a child anymore, you're ridding California with Filip Telford by your side, who can say that? Only you. And it's not because who he is, but because of who you want him to be for you.

It's sunrising. In the horizon, the sky is mixed with blue, orange and soft pink. It's your favorite part of the day, but now it's different. You're /living/ it, breathing it, enjoying it totally relaxed as never before, with Chibs' eyes on you for a ephemeral instant, fully spellbound. And that's what makes it special this time.

“Don'ya thenk' it's time fo' a coffee?” He asks loud enough for you to hear him. You nod laughing, 'cause you really need it after sleeping for just four hours.

Some mills away, you finally stop in a rest area on top of a small cliff. Taking off your helmet, you walk towards the wooden railings looking down. You're too close of the sea that almost some salty drops splash your face interspersed with the sea breeze. You couldn't get tired of a place like that. The smell of hot coffee pushes you into reality, turning to Chibs so you can hold the metallic mug.

“Maybe I put some Cardhu in'et”.

“Maybe?” You break in laugh, leaning your nose over it.

“When I say ‘maybe’, et's because I alrede' ded'et”.

“So... the other night, at the workshop, maybe it was a date?”

“Maybe”. He nods, blowing his drink, before taking a drink. “Maybe that's the second one”.

“Maybe you already won me, fixing my bike and bringing me here”. Giving him your most smooth smile, you drink too, turning to the ocean while he puts an arm on your shoulders letting you rest your cheek on his. “Maybe you put a lot of Cardhu”.

“Yea', maybe”.