Juice x Reader where Juice is prospecting and the sassy reader has to partner up with him on a job, her less than pleased attitude making for a fun time.
A/N - haven’t proof read so sorry if there are any mistakes!
Double checking your ammo, you shove your gun down the back of your jeans, grabbing your duffle bag and heading towards the bar, everybody else already gathered and ready. “You set?”
You nod in response, tossing the duffle on the table and zipping up your jacket till it reaches just underneath your breasts. “We ready to go?”
“Almost.” Clay says, adding a couple more shotguns to the bag. You look at him questioningly, double checking the group to see who’s missing. “Prospect is coming with.”
“Thought you said this needed to go smoothly.” you sass, not being mentally prepared enough to deal with some inexperienced kid. “Can’t we do it without him?”
“Give him a chance, lassie. He’s got potential.” Chibs argues, throwing an arm around your shoulder and pulling you into his chest. “Don’t be too harsh on the poor lad.”
“As long as he keeps out of my way, I’ll behave.” You don’t miss the look that the others share, the expressions of humour and nervousness making you suspicious. “What?”
“There’s been a change of plan, sweetheart. Prospect’s taking Jax’s place.” Tig informs you, a smirk on his lips. You curse loudly, shaking your head in disbelief.
“Is he serious?” Clay nods in confirmation, shaking his shoulders carelessly. You huff, your mood going from excited to pissed off within seconds. “Don’t blame me when this all goes tits up.”
“Sorry if I’m late.” You all turn your attention to the quiet boy who’s just arrived, your eyes widening slightly as his attractiveness before you catch yourself.
“Sure you are.“ you say sarcastically, a snigger coming from the group at your cold tone. “I’ll be outside.”
You push past the timid male, your eyes catching his as you do so, his mouthwatering aftershave creeping up your nostrils and threatening to throw your concentration.
“She seems…nice.” Juice mutters once you’re out of ear shot, the others grinning at one another.
“Good luck today, prospect. You’re gonna need it.” Tig says, slapping Juice roughly on the back as everyone floods out of the clubhouse, ready to complete the task at hand.
Your steps are skillfully silent as you creep towards the back entrance of the club, Juice hot on your trail. It’s hard to focus when he’s close enough for you to feel his body warmth, his breath hot on your neck when you stop to check if the coast is clear.
“I’m Juice, by the way.” he whispers, your eyes rolling at his need for conversation. “It’s nice to meet you…”
“(Y/N).” you finish for him, your hand reaching into your pocket for your lock pick kit. Juice watches you, completely fascinated, your actions nimble and quick as you successfully crack open the door. “Stay close.”
“Right.” he mumbles as you sneak through the door, Juice taking that as his cue to stop talking. You slip through the hallways of the dimmed den, heading for the room where you know the target will be.
“Shit.” you curse as you spot one of the many henchmen heading your way, knowing everything will turn to shit if you’re caught. “Follow my lead.”
You yank Juice towards you by his shirt, connecting your lips to his roughly as he freezes up in shock. Slapping him sharply on the chest, he relaxes, his hands grabbing your hips as he pushes you against the wall, a groan slipping from Juice as you suck lightly on his lower lip.
As the heavy footsteps get further and further away, your lips detaching from Juice’s once you’re sure the coast is clear, his cheeks flushed and his pupils dilated as he gazes at you. “W-what was that?”
Shrugging your shoulders at his lovestruck face, you check the hallway again, satisfied to move when you see its clear. “Distraction technique. Don’t get hung up on it, Juicey.”
“Juicey?” His words are filled with humor, though you easily detect the slightly flirtatious tone. “Careful, might make me think you actually find me tolerable.”
“Don’t get hung up, I said.” you remind him, glancing over your shoulder at him, your lips twitching as you try to contain your smile. “Let’s go.”
You clink your beer bottle against the rest of SAMCRO as you celebrate a job well done, a chorus of cheers rippling through the loud music. You grin, running your tongue over your lower lip as you head away from the group.
You climb up to the roof, perching yourself down on a box and reveling in the calm, sirens sounding far in the distance. “Wondered where you got to.”
“Congrats on finding me Sherlock.” you sass, Juice taking a seat beside you as you pull out your cigarettes, offering him one before having one for yourself.
“Thought you’d be down there celebrating.” he says, taking a long drag, the smoke getting lost within the California air. “You seem like the party type.”
You hum in response, admiring the city lights. “Guess I just enjoy the quiet sometimes.”
“Yeah.” he mumbles, the two of you silent apart from the inhailing of cigarettes, the atmosphere strangely comfortable. “Why aren’t you at home with your boyfriend or something?”
“Smooth.” you snigger, raising your eyebrows, taking a hefty swig of your beer. “I’m single, asshole.”
“Can’t blame a guy for asking.” he chuckles, you smiling despite yourself. “Lucky, really. I don’t think a boyfriend would be too happy about what happened between us today.”
You spit out your drink, coughing unattractively as you try to recompose yourself. Juice watches on, embarrassed, as you laugh. “Excuse me?”
“You know, the kiss-” You hold your hand up, Juice halting his sentence as you do so.
“It didn’t mean anything, Juice. It was just a job.” you explain, Juice opening and closing his mouth as he searches for a defense. “You get that, right?”
“Sure, totally.” he says unconvincingly, your heart strings tugging at the sadness in his voice. Getting up from your makeshift seat, you head towards the ladder, admiring the slightly naive yet completely interesting prospect in front of you.
“Prove me wrong.” you challenge, Juice whipping his head to face you, disbelief on his face. “Tomorrow night, pick me up at eight. Give it your best shot.”
You can see him smile in the moonlight, butterflies fluttering gently in your stomach. “You’re on.”