Broken Apart (Dean Winchester x Reader)

What's Love Got to Do With It

After Sam and Dean were pulled from the room, you stepped back from Crowley, noticing his disapproval at your movement.

Your heart dropping into your stomach you explained yourself. "Our wedding is in a couple of hours. You need to go so I can get ready."

He nodded, his displeasure evaporating. "Fine. I will see you soon. I can't wait."

Once he left, you collapsed on the side of the bed, your head pounding. You had been fine, perfectly excited to marry Crowley but seeing Dean again had done something to you.

You knew that you and Dean used to have a thing, but you were with Crowley now, you were happy with Crowley. But something didn't seem right, as if somehow you were being pushed, or forced into this marriage.

Shaking it off as prewedding nerves, you made your way into the opulent bathroom, full of black marble counter tops and shiny charcoal cabinets, it was dark but fit the King of Hell. Turning the faucet of the deep jacuzzi tub, you dumped some bubble bath in, before stepping out of your panties, and unbuttoning Crowley's shirt. You wanted to pamper yourself for a little bit, until it was time to get ready for your wedding.

Once the water had cooled, you stepped out, sliding on one of Crowley's robes, just as there was a knock on the door. "Yes?" You asked.

The dressmaker stuck her head inside. "I'm here with your dress. And I brought someone for hair and make up with me." She told you, stepping into the room. You watched as she was followed by the guards, their arms full of fabric, then behind them, a man and a woman. Thing one hung your dress up on the outside of the closest, before retreating.

"This is Gertrude, and Harvey." The dressmaker, you had forgotten her name, told you. "Gertrude used to do make up for the stars, before her ten years were up, and Harvey was the best hair dresser in New York."

You nodded, impressed, as they fussed about you, pushing you down into the chair at the desk. "My, you have beautiful hair, I can't wait to get my hands on it." Harvey told you, running his hand along his pencil thin mustache. Gertrude, a plump, blonde lady was busy setting our her traveling case of make up. They soon both got to work, bumping into each other as they battled for space. Your were poked and prodded, your hair pulled and curled, and you sat there demurely, watching and waiting.

The dressmaker was in the corner, putting finishing touches on the steel colored fabric that was your dress. Soon, they deemed you to be breath taking, and you were handed a mirror. Your hair was piled up high, soft and silky. Small curls floated around your face. Your makeup was simple, natural for the most part. Thanking them, you stood up, and moved over to where the dressmaker stood.

"Good, you're done. Now I need to slip this over your head, and do any last minute adjustments. Also, I brought you these." She told you, handing you a black strapless bra, matching silk panties, garters, and knee high black stockings. Taking them from her, you changed into the bathroom, before coming out, not bothering with the robe. She smiled in approval, before having Harvey and Gertrude help settle the heavy fabric over your head, being careful to not upset your hair.

Once it had settled down, she stepped behind you, tightening the strings of the corset. At first you hardly felt anything, but then she kept pulling and pulling, and you had to grab onto the door of the closet, feeling faint of breath. Finally she stopped, but you could hardly take a deep breath. "Isn't it too tight?" You asked, but she shook her head.

"Don't you want to look your best for Crowley?" She asked you, and you nodded, deciding a little pain would be worth it. Biting her lip, she circled around you, tucking and pinning the fabric, until she deemed your perfect.