- tales from the gas station
* arnold x reader *
* SUMMARY: You work the night shift at a run down gas station. When arnold comes up short on his late night pick-me-up, you decide to cover him.
* RATING: General Audiences
* WORDS: 1,046
* A/N: Originally posted on AO3 (i go by the same user there). I don’t see Arnold getting much love, so here’s a small writing blurb. Could also be read as platonic.
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10:13pm, November 1979
The slight stench of mildew and bleach seemed to give you a blistering headache each time you took a shift longer than eight hours. Your head lay dormant in your arms atop the chipped countertop—two more hours and you’re out of this dump.
The jingling of the tiny bell above the door made your head raise slightly, the white fluorescent lights blinding you for just a second. The blurred silhouette of a person passed by as you made an attempt to rub the eye floaters out of your vision.
You let your head fall back into your arms, a silent sigh escaping your lips. You were supposed to greet every customer that entered the building, but the types of people that came in at this hour didn’t give a damn either way.
With this gas station sitting about a mile off of the interstate, you get a mixed blend of truckers, nomads, and those in the middle who have sold themselves to the road. Conversations never usually hold long this late at night—it gets too hard for people to keep up their fronts.
You followed the footsteps of the stranger with your ears, noting the opening and closing of a drink cooler as well as the sound of plastic crinkling. You finally decided to properly sit up as the footsteps began to approach your counter. You cleared your throat before bringing your eyes up to the man on the other side of you.
The first thing you noticed was how utterly exhausted he looked. With eye bags bigger than you’ve ever seen on a person, you almost wanted to apologize to him. However, you spew out a greeting that sounded friendly enough.
“Hey man, your night been okay?”
“Oh, yeah, I’m alright.” He definitely didn’t sound alright. He wasn’t chasing sleep, it was chasing him. You could tell he was lying but you figured he wouldn’t want to talk about it. Not to a gas station clerk, anyway. “Do you guys offer coffee by chance?”
You winced at his question as you began to ring up his items. “Ah, no, sorry. Wish we did. There’s a super nice truck stop off the next exit on the interstate that does though.” You paused for a second. “If you’re going that way, that is.” A small chuckle left your lips and he returned a similarly friendly one.
“That’s okay, I’m sure I’ll be fine.” He rubbed the back of his neck. He was smart to layer up, it’s supposed to snow soon. You just hoped it wouldn’t start until after you get home.
“That’ll be a dollar and twenty cents. Need a bag?” You noticed his mixed expression of confusion and shame almost immediately.
“A dollar twenty? Are you serious?” You could tell he wasn’t mad at you, just at the prices.
“Yeah, I’m sorry. Inflation has been crazy recently. A lot of people have mentioned it the last few weeks.” You felt awful as his head bowed slightly, his lips pursed as he thought of his next move.
“Agh, it’s fine. I’ve got a drink leftover in the van. Sorry to waste your time,” he sighed out before picking the items up and bringing them back to where he found them.
You experienced what felt like a sucker punch to the heart. You’ve had people put things back before but this time it just seemed to eat away at you more each second that passed by. Maybe it was because of his unchanging expression of a puppy that just got kicked.
You didn’t exactly have a lot of money yourself but you felt too awful to just not do anything. You made an attempt to catch him before he left.
“Hey, can you come back here for a second?” You leaned over the counter to hopefully catch his attention. You saw the brim of his hat turn towards you, to which you immediately felt a small wave of shyness.
“I, uh.. I can cover you,” you said much quieter this time. “Bring back what you wanted.”
“Oh, god, no.” He almost laughed in a morbid sense. “I can’t let you do that.” His hands raised slightly. You simply weren’t gonna let him leave without taking something with him.
“Oh, come on. I’d be a heartless bastard to let you run off empty handed,” you left the counter and began walking back to the drink cooler, searching for the can he had just taken out.
“I really appreciate that, but—“ you quickly spoke up to interrupt the stranger.
“No buts, you’re obviously exhausted and need something to hold you over.” Your fingers reached for the chip bag before retreating back to the counter.
You received a pitiful chuckle from the man. “I feel nothing short of pathetic.” He held his head in one hand, elbow resting on the counter. You proceeded to re-ring the items back up before paying with your own cash.
“Don’t worry about it,” you tried to console him. “It’s nothing, alright? I’ve been there, too.” You put each item in a plastic bag before pushing it over to him and offering a friendly smile.
“Have a good night, Arnold.”
His confusion made you laugh, arms folding. “Your name tag.” You pointed slightly to the rugged little rectangle that hung on his jacket. He let out a small chuckle himself.
“Oh, right, yeah.”
He grabbed onto the bag, pulling it down to his side. “Thank you, you really didn’t have to.”
“Oh, go on, now. Before I change my mind and eat it in front of you.” He seemed to appreciate your joke, head craning down slightly as he laughed. He turned his back towards you and walked to the door. Before he left, he stopped and gave you a small wave. You returned it, before watching as he retreated to the only car parked outside other than yours.
You hoped the best for Arnold, maybe even hoping you’d cross paths again on another cold night.
















