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skittlesfics · 2 years

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name: company ink pairing: Argyle x Reader word count: 3010 summary: During a bad shift at the pizza shop, Argyle offers to smoke you out. contents/warnings: tits, weed usage, vague descriptions of being high, tagged smut for sexual content but no actual sex, mostly fluff author's note: okay I was going to post the request, and then I remembered this idea kicking around and I had to get it out. Something the tiniest bit spicier, may be potential for a part two read part 2 here

- You huffed as you hung up the phone, yet another irate customer yelling about prices that you had zero control over. Some days you had a lot of fun at this job, and others you were this close to throwing in your thematic Hawaiian shirt and visor for something less soul-sucking.

“That’s not the happy face I’m looking for.” Argyle popped into view from around the corner as if to remind you of why you stayed at this place, his empty delivery bag dangling from one shoulder as he returned from the most recent round of deliveries. He was lucky; another driver had just taken the newest stack, leaving him an actual break from driving for once. You wrinkled your nose at him and leaned back against the wall, your head hitting the shitty bulletin board with more force than you had intended.

“Don’t give me that ‘smile’ bullshit today, Argyle, I’ll scream.” You said, closing your eyes against the impending stress headache. The regret set in immediately. You felt gross, snapping at your one work friend like that, but you were just about at your limit, and you didn’t need anyone prodding at you further. Not even your cute coworker who occasionally sold you weed.

“Whoa, man.” You heard Argyle’s footsteps and thought he was leaving, but just as quickly as they receded, they returned, coming towards you behind the counter now.

“Need a smoke? I’m out of purple palm tree delight, but I scored some black triangle kush that’ll get you real mellow.” He sounded about as concerned as Argyle was capable of, which only made you feel more guilty for snapping at him. You pressed your lips together, opening your eyes to see the dark-haired boy looking at you with genuine concern. Fuck.

“It’s just been a rough day, I’m sorry. I’ll be okay. I honestly don’t have the spare cash for weed right now.” You normally used your tips to get enough weed from Argyle to make it through the rough days, but your last few shifts had been pretty stingy and you had your half of an electric bill to worry about this week.

Argyle’s brow knitted together thoughtfully, and you swallowed a thought about how adorable he was when he tried to think, especially when he was already toasted.

“I could smoke you out, if you wanna take your break now. We’re friends, you don’t always have to pay.” He offered. He shifted his delivery bag off his shoulder and dumped it onto the counter like it was a done deal. You chewed your bottom lip, glancing between him and the phone.

“I don’t want to put you out. You can’t give away weed every time a girl is in crisis. I can pay you later, or make it up to you somehow?” You offered guiltily. Argyle simply shrugged and gestured for you to follow him outside.

“I’m sure we can figure something out.”

You hesitated only long enough to yell that someone in the kitchen would have to grab the phone and scurried behind him, eager for any sort of stress relief.

You shifted awkwardly in your seat as Argyle rolled a joint in front of you. He was explaining the differences between this strain and his usual one, but you were only half listening, your eyes following the expert movements of his fingers.

“… hybrid, so it might make you a little sleepy, but you’ll definitely be more relaxed. I always get cotton mouth, but I didn’t give the last house their pepsi since they yelled at you on the phone, so you can drink that if you need it.”

You nodded along as if you were listening. He twisted the end of the joint and admired his own rolling job before holding it up to his mouth to light. You had always been attracted to your coworker, but “don’t shit where you eat” had been heavily ingrained in your mind from the drama at your first job. You were doing your best to respect that, but it didn’t mean you couldn’t look. He held the joint between his lips, using one hand to shield it from non-existent wind and the other to light the end with his lighter. He let the twisted paper burn down, taking a few puffs to draw the flame into the weed, and then offered it to you.

You tried not to think about the slight dampness from where he had kept the filter in his mouth for too long as you took a long pull, holding the smoke in your lungs for a few moments before exhaling.

He still hadn't given you a way to repay him, but you didn't bring it up yet as you returned the joint carefully pinched between pointer finger and thumb. He took it with ease, eyes trained on your face as he leaned back to take a hit. He inhaled deeply, holding for a beat before exhaling through his mouth and nose, smoke pouring from him like some sort of fancy incense holder.

You couldn't help but laugh, grinning as he broke into a smile.

"That's it. There's my smile. Consider your debt paid in full." He said cheerfully, reaching out to gently pat your cheek. His touch shouldn't have burned the way it did, but then, none of the way you felt around Argyle made any sense. You shouldn't get jealous when he told you stories of customers flirting with him. You shouldn't hang on to his every word. You shouldn't mope around the pizza parlor until he comes in from each delivery with some story or snippet of something that he thought might cheer you up. You really, really shouldn't shit where you eat.

You let him place the joint between your lips, trying to ignore the way his fingers brushed gently against your lips as he pulled away. You were sure you imagined the slight intake of breath on his part, the way his eyes lingered on your lips, the way his adam's apple bobbed as he swallowed before tearing his eyes away.

Fuck, the weed was hitting quick if you were already this horny. You took another hit, inhaling slowly and holding the smoke in your mouth for a second before breathing it into your lungs. You exhaled, feeling yourself start to melt into the floor of the van. Argyle took the joint as carefully as he had placed it, dropping it into the ashtray he kept on hand.

"I don't think a smile is enough to pay you for weed, Argyle." You slurred lazily, flicking your eyes up to gaze at him through thick lashes. You didn't remember when you laid down fully, but there he was, sitting upright and towering over you.

"No?" He asked, still smiling. Argyle was always smiling. That was one of the things you liked so much about him. You reached up and poked his cheek, grinning when it made his smile widen.

"No." You repeated, shaking your head slightly. He shifted closer, his leg bumping up against yours as he made himself comfortable. There was a brief silence as your brain processed the new input and he just watched you, waiting. Finally, his curiosity got the best of him.

"What would be enough to pay me for weed?" He asked, finally. You hummed. The logical part of your brain was telling you to stop now, that he might reject you and that would be awkward and you couldn't get a new job quickly if this went sour because you got frisky after a little weed.

The less logical side of your brain was telling you that you knew the way he looked at you. How his eyes lingered when you stretched to get the boxes from the top shelf, your shirt slipping up to reveal the slightest bit of skin. How he always looked your way when he made a joke to be sure that you were laughing. How he undercharged you for weed, or slipped extra in the bag when you weren't looking. You liked that side much better.

You played with the collar of your shirt as you considered the best way to answer, not missing the way his eyes followed your hand and then drifted down before deliberately, dutifully returning to your face.

"Remember that delivery to the apartments down Oakside last Tuesday, 3A?" You asked. You watched his face as he thought back, trying to count the days backwards to remember what you meant. His lips moved silently as he thought, mouthing the pizza orders of the places he remembered. You couldn't help but smile at his moment of realization, the tips of his ears growing a deep red at the memory. Large white pie, extra sausage.

"You mean the one with the..." he mimed opening a robe, his eyes slightly wide as the implications of your words slammed into him all at once. "No way, dude, you don't have to..." He trailed off. His eyes were already drifting back down, Adam's apple bobbing with the force of his nervous swallowing.

You smiled and gave him a slight nod, fingers already fiddling with the first button on your work shirt.

"That's the one. I think you said something about a pizza costing more than just a look." You teased, moving on to the next button when the first finally popped open. "Does that apply to weed, too?"

Argyle's lips parted like he was about to say something, eyebrows knitted together as he grappled over what to say, but no words came out. He blinked hard, shaking his head slightly like he was making sure you were really there, then he looked down at the joint, inspecting it for anything he hadn't added.

"Argyle?"

"If it's for the weed, you don't have to." He repeated, his voice high with nervousness. You had one button left, and you made quick work of it, letting your shirt rest, partially open, on your chest. You felt incredible. High, powerful, sexy, bold... You could take on the world, if the world were the cute boy sitting with his mouth slightly open across from you. The world around him was hazy, tilting slowly, but that didn't matter when you felt like this.

"I want to." This was stupid. This was brilliant. This was ridiculous. This was... everything. You couldn't decide as he shifted next to you, moving closer like he was waiting for you to take it back. "Aren't you curious?"

You could tell from the way he looked at you that he was more than curious. Maybe he was hoping for this, or something like this. Maybe this hadn't been the first time he thought about you in the back of his delivery van. Maybe he wanted more than you were even offering him right now. He said none of that out loud, his fingers gingerly finding the edges of your shirt and pushing them apart, inch by inch.

The fabric was silky against your bare chest, the whisper of friction sending chills across your skin. You wondered if, this close, he could tell your heart was pounding in your chest, leaping at his careful touch. The places his fingers grazed against you were impossibly warm and the sensation of his skin on yours was nearly enough to send you spiraling. His eyes flickered between your face and your chest, searching for any sign of reluctance. Finding none, he finally just pulled your shirt open, a small groan falling from his lips at the sight of your bare tits beneath him.

"You are, like, unreal." He mumbled, his eyes devouring the sight of you like you were going to disappear. You flushed under the intensity of his gaze, fighting the urge to cover yourself or pull your shirt closed again. Your head was spinning in an entirely different way now, the weed paling in comparison to what Argyle was making you feel right now. You watched as he wet his lips with his tongue, goosebumps forming across your skin at the thought of what he might do with that.

You took a breath, watching him as he watched the rise and fall of your chest, memorizing the curves of your torso as you just existed. Argyle had always been cute, but the way he looked at you made you ache for him. The world was hazy and soft, the weed having filed off all the hard edges, and yet Argyle was the only thing in sharp focus. You smiled, reaching for his hand like it was the most natural thing in the world, and he took yours just as easily. You pulled it towards you, dropping it only inches away from the swell of your breast.

"More than a look, right?" You breathed and the look he gave you would have melted you if you weren't already there. You were playing coy, but you were practically begging for his touch, laid out all pretty beneath him like you belonged there. Even just sitting there, not moving, his touch sent flames across your skin, quickening your breath and making you desperate.

"You're sure?" Argyle was in just as much of a state, his face a dark red, breath coming heavy and deliberate. He shifted uncomfortably, cock straining against the rough denim of his jeans in a way that neither of you could ignore. If you'd had doubts before they were gone now, replaced only with the desire for him to just touch you already.

"Don't make me beg." That was enough to get him moving, shifting to his knees like he had only been waiting for you to say the word. His hands were rough, calloused, awkward, but they felt so fucking good as he finally cupped your breasts, fingers pressing in slightly as he experimented with a gentle squeeze. You inhaled sharply, your back arching slightly into his touch and he took the encouragement for what it was.

He touched you carefully, experimenting to find the things that made you gasp, that made you look at him like you wanted more. It was when he leaned in, lips parted, pupils blown wide with desire that you knew you were a fucking goner. "Can I?"

You almost cursed at him for asking, reaching up to thread your fingers into the thick curtain of his hair and pull him closer to your chest. He smoothed one steadying hand across your abdomen and leaned in, his breath fanning across your nipple in a way that already had you shivering. He licked his lips and opened his mouth to press a hot, warm, kiss to the side of your breast. You moaned, the sound floaty and distant to your high mind. If his fingers were warm, his mouth was searing, leaving you needy and breathless as he decorated your chest with open-mouthed kisses, lips and teeth and tongue seeking out all the sensitive places his fingers had mapped out before.

Your grip on his hair tightened, your body arching into him as he came tantalizingly close to one of your nipples and then kissed around it, sucking at the skin just under where you wanted his mouth most. If it were anyone but Argyle, you would've thought it was a deliberate ploy to make you needy, pliant under him. It worked anyway, your brain swimming with want for him, his mouth, his fingers, his everything.

When he pulled away, he was enraptured, dark eyes trained on your body, lips slightly swollen from kissing your chest. Neither of you spoke for a moment, eyes trading questions about intentions rather than risking words.

You were ready to speak, to ask when it happened. BANG! BANG! BANG!

Three sharp raps on the side of the van that sent you scrambling away from each other, nearly colliding in your haste.

"Come on, Argyle, I can smell you in there." It was the other delivery driver, no doubt irate that he had been left to do back to back runs.

"Uhhh," Argyle's voice came out thick and raspy, and he had to clear his throat before trying again. "Dude, my bad, lost track of time. New strain." He called out, eyes not leaving you as the excuse fell easily from his lips. You envied his composure, still struggling to rebutton your shirt under his scrutiny.

"Whatever, just go pick up your pies, dude." The annoyance was clear even when muffled and tinny through the doors of the trunk. You bit your lip, casting Argyle a guilty look as you considered what chaos you might be returning to. He was all smiles, though, as he reached over to his ashtray and picked up the blunt, plucking it to place between his lips as if he hadn't missed a beat. He relit it and took a hit before replying.

"Alright. My bad, man. Won't happen again." He assured, passing you the blunt. You took a small hit and passed it back, exhaling for longer than needed in an attempt to calm yourself. Your body still felt like it was on fire with want for him, but you couldn't just say that when he seemed to bounce back to his normal, unbothered self. "Guess we have to get back." he intoned, just for you.

"Guess so." You responded breathlessly. He smiled guiltily and reached out to help you fix the button you had messed up, leaving a gape right at your cleavage. Somehow that's what made you squeeze your thighs together, shifting uncomfortably as he helped fix your clothes.

"Maybe we could hang out later?" He offered, his eyes promising all the things he wasn't saying out loud. Or maybe that was just the weed and desire talking because right now all the bullshit warnings about getting involved with coworkers were far from thought, lost somewhere on the tip of Argyle's tongue, or perhaps in the palms of his hands, or in the gaze that darkened ever so slightly when his eyes fell on you again, contrasting his easy smile.

"Yeah, maybe."

#Argyle x Reader #Argyle Imagine #Stranger Things Reader Insert #Stranger Things x Reader #Stranger Things Imagine #Argyle Fluff #Argyle Smut #3000 - 3500 #x reader #fluff

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