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Isssei Restaurant by Studio Kota Architecture

For WIP Wednesday: Small Town Paranormal Investigations

Thanks for the push!

The smell of greasy food wafted forth as she crossed the threshold, and Amity beheld a wide-open, eclectic room, the walkable area broken into a large L-shape, with booths all along the outside edges, and a large, chrome-faced bar counter occupying the inside corner. The restaurant's kitchen was only barely visible, tucked further into the corner behind the bar, and signs for a bathroom could be seen hanging before an alcove at the end of the room, straight away from the entrance. The place's black-and-white checkered floor stood out harshly against the light pink walls and faded red barstools and boothseats, and the ceiling was a plain, clean white, broken into wide tiles, with red and silver lamps hanging over the booths along the edges, and a number of smaller lanterns of the same colors hanging over the bar counter in the center of the room.

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Vertical Channel Back Restaurant Booth, U Shaped Booth Style Upholstered in Blue Velvet Material

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Day Three

Day Three of the Hello Spring 2020 Writing Prompt Challenge

Characters- Dean Winchester, Sam Winchester, Castiel, Fem! Reader

Prompt- 50′s Diner

Warnings- None, except my horrible knowledge of American 50′s slang, I’m so sorry luvs

Wordcount- 1,017

        He’s a recent regular. The tall- and very handsome- man had begun showing up at the little diner owned by your aunt two weeks ago, and you had yet to serve him that day, but you’ve already got his order ready. Dean Winchester appeared to be a creature of habit, asking for the same thing on every occasion. “Your best burger, a slice of pie, and one of those strawberry shakes, sweetheart.” You had practically committed it to memory, and as he came each Tuesday, Thursday, and Friday during your shift, began telling the cooks to have it waiting for him.

       “Jeesh, Dean! I’d’a asked what you wanted, but looks like you got a knuckle sandwich already!” You exclaim, eyes going wide at the shiner the green-eyed man sports. “Hey, sweetheart.” Dean greets, smirking up at you as you slide his plate and strawberry milkshake to him. “So, what’s buzzin’?” You prompt, hand on your hip. This was the best part of your week- Dean was a bit of a trouble maker, which is part of why you fancied him so much, and every week he had a new story to tell. “Guess the big guy didn’t take so kindly to me interrupting back-seat bingo with his gal. You snort a laugh that makes his grin all the wider and more smug, before rolling your eyes. 

       “As if the great Dean Winchester isn’t out havin’ a bitchin’ time necking some poor girl in her daddy’s ride.” You accuse playfully. He was a ladies’ man, and you’d heard other men call him a bird dog when their gals beat feet to ogle the new man in the small town, but he was mostly harmless. “Got me there, sweetheart, but it ain’t bitchin’ unless it’s you I’m necking.” Dean winks. You hate to admit that he makes you blush. “Oh, cut the gas, and quit it with the apple butter.” You scold, swatting him with your notepad. Dean chuckles, the sound low and rich. “Anything else I can get you?” You ask, returning to your work. “Well, maybe another milkshake, and your number if it’s on the menu.” Dean says with a charming smile. “I’m a classy gal, Dean, gotta at least buy me a shake first.” You laugh and turn away before he can see you turn as red as your lipstick, and jot down his milkshake order as you go.

               By the time his shake is ready, your shift is ending, and you give the waitress taking over a friendly smile as you head to Dean’s table. Everyone at the diner was adamant Dean only ever came on your shift, and exclusively to see you, but you ignored their smirks and teasing jives. You do not fancy Dean. Not even a little. “Alright, Winchester.” you smile. “Have a seat, sweetheart. Haven’t gotten to talk to you much today. You’ve always got a good one to make me bust a gut.” He grins, and you laugh as you slide into the booth beside him. “Well, there was one customer...” You begin.

           Halfway through your story, and a quarter through the milkshake Dean insisted you finish as he was too full to do so himself, you look over to find he’s already staring at you, with warm green eyes and gaze so fond you have to look away before you turn an embarrassing shade of crimson, or melt into the boothseat of your Aunt’s diner. “What? Am I bashing your ears?” You ask, worried you’ve been rambling too much about the woman with triplets and the fiasco she resulted in earlier in the week. Dean’s quick to shake his head, leaning to catch your gaze until you look back at him. “Nah, your stories are the second best part of my week.” Dean reassures. “Only second best? Who I am losing to? The Big Daddy givin’ out free knuckle sandwiches?” You tease, deflecting the attention from you before you could grow any more flustered than you already are. Dean laughs, grinning broadly at your joke. No matter how stupid your jokes were, he always laughed, and genuinely too. “Best part of my week is seein’ you.” Dean winks, and you don’t even try to hide the redness of your cheeks- it would be futile, anyways. You’re saved from a response by the waitress coming over so Dean can pay, insisting he pay for the second milkshake even though you drank it. 

          “C’mon, sweetheart, I’ll walk you to your car.” Dean smiles, offering his arm. You beam back and take it, leaning into his warmth. “So, how about now?” Dean asks. You pause from unlocking the car, giving him a confused look. For once, his cocky and suave demeanor is nowhere to be found, and he looks nervous instead. “What are you jabbin’ about, Dean?” You ask curiously, now even more intrigued by his flustered expression. “Gettin’ that number. Said I had to buy you a milkshake first, so uh...” Dean chuckles, fidgeting slightly and rocking back on his heels. You turn fully to him in disbelief. “Are you messin’? This better not be a bit, Dean Winchester.” You threaten, narrowing your eyes. “No, Y/N, I swear, no bit. Just a coupla shakes with a swell gal. Think I’ve been comin’ around every week on your rounds just for the burgers? I told you, best part of my week is seein’ you.” Dean smiles, looking sincere. “Well, ain’t you sweet.” You grin at him. You jot down a string of numbers on your yellow diner notepad, and hand it to Dean, who gives the biggest boyish smile you’ve ever seen, and turning your knees to rubber. “Say, I know this diner, it’s the cat’s pajamas. If you wanna pick me up at 5, maybe get some milkshakes, have a bitchin’ time.” You offer with a sly smirk. Dean laughs. “You’re one cool cat, Y/N.” Dean grins. “See ya tomorrow then, Dean. Don’t you be late.” You wink. “Like I said, ain’t bitchin’ without ya. I’ll see you at 5.” Dean promises. 

              Alright, so maybe you fancy Dean. Just a little.

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