Assorted SOA One-Shots & Imagines

Good Conversation (Chibs x Reader)

Written for: chimmichurri
Playlist: Let Me Love You (feat. Lil Wayne) – Ariana Grande, and Come On Eileen – Dexy's Midnight Runners
Find Me On: tumblr, ffn or ao3 as crimsonheart01

You had to employ all the muscles in your upper body, keeping the steering straight. You sighed, attempting to blow the hair out of your face forgetting you had a helmet on. The sun was beating down on you and you were sweating in the California heat. You broke down on the side of the highway and when you tried to call a tow you remembered your phone died a state ago. This cross country motorcycle trip was starting to seem like the worst idea you'd ever had. You swiveled the bike around the corner and onto the vast driveway of the local mechanic. You spotted the line of Harley's immediately and felt a little more at ease. You always hated coming to mechanics, when in most cases you knew more than them. You stopped pushing and flicked out the kickstand. You pulled off your gloves and hung them over the handle bars. You used your palms to push the helmet up and off your head. You breathed in, feeling less confined. You fluffed your hair around noticing it's dampness from sweat. You needed a shower. You stretched your arms out in front of you and then above your head. You rolled your neck and gazed up at the sign of the place. Teller-Morrow Automotive. With your backpack still on your back you started walking towards the small office attached to the garage. You only made it halfway to the door when you were stopped by two men stepping out of the garage and walking towards you.

"What can I do for you lass?" The taller of the two asked you.

You tiled your head, not missing the strange accent. Sidetracked by trying to figure it out on your own, you stood and stared at him. The man next to him, a Hispanic guy with tribal tattoos on either side of his head cleared his throat. You flicked your gaze to him and realized they were waiting for you to answer. You were still hooked on where he was from so you diverted for a second.

"Where're you from?" You asked.

The taller man raised one eyebrow at you, giving you a calculating stare.

You chuckled to yourself, "It's pretty obvious you aren't from the states. I've been all over this country and never encountered that particular accent. I'm curious."

He stuck out his bottom lip in thought and nodded, "Originally Scotland but spent more time in Ireland."

You widened your eyes, "Wow. That's awesome."

The guy next to him scoffed and rolled his eyes. Someone seemed to be feeling left out.

You gave him a condescending look, "Nice tattoos. Feel better?"

The Scot burst into laughter while the other one threw his hands in the air and turned around back into the garage. His laugh was booming and echoed around the two of you. One by one, you noticed as more men began popping up and staring at you. You swallowed feeling a tad uncomfortable being watched so closely.

Finally the Scot calmed down and asked again, "What do you need done?"

You sighed, shrugging and pointed to your bike, "Fuel line burst while I was on the highway. All I need is a new line and I'll be out of your hair. I think I have all the tools I need in my backpack. You don't even have to lift a finger."

He licked his bottom lip, his teeth grazing it, "A woman who knows her way around a Harley?"

He seemed impressed and you had to fight the urge to roll your eyes. You hated that everyone, particularly men, thought that women didn't know a thing about vehicles. You never understood that stereotype. You could cook and clean and maintain a motorcycle. Was it that really that rare?