#rowena x reader

[chevroletdean]

FFWotSPNF KINKTOBER 2025

୨୧──Day 16: How To Join A Coven──🍓

PAIRING: Rowena MacLeod x Fem!Reader PROMPT: Ritualistic Sex WORD COUNT: 1,670 GENRE: 18+ Smut (MDNI!) A/N: More horny time for the FanFiction Writers of the Supernatural Fandom's Kinktober. Check out our Discord server right here! Thank you @justwhisperingfantasies for beta-reading. <3 TAGS AND WARNINGS: Author probably butchered Pagan and/or Wiccan stuff and apologizes, Ritual Sex, Scissoring, Witches, Orgy, Public Sex, Power Imbalance (Student/Teacher) SUMMARY: You're one of Rowena's best students. During October's full moon, she wants to reward you. LINKS AND CREDIT: Kinktober Masterpost [𖤐] Supernatural Masterpost [𖤐] Fictober 2025 Masterpost [𖤐] Join the Hunt Taglist [𖤐] Request [𖤐] Ao3 [𖤐] Dividers by @cafekitsune

“Remember, dear,” Rowena cooed.

Her long, dainty fingers brushed through your hair, weaving something primal into the river of your strands. Something carnal. Something powerful.

“Our flesh is strong, but it needs nurturing. You see, a witch’s body is much like a vessel. A storage for infinite energy. This ritual keeps the body in touch with the mind. And, hells, what’s even better: It is so much fun!”

You nodded, as though you perfectly understood the lyrics of her siren’s song. In truth, you had not the faintest idea what she was implying. Just that it — her voice — sounded like everything you ever dreamed of.

The woman cupped your face with such tenderness that you forgot what they were capable of. Destroying lands and rebuilding them anew, chaos and order all at once. You shuddered, not because of her power, but because she didn’t use them against you.

Not yet, anyway.

People were right to fear Rowena MacLeod. She’s always been avant-garde. Fools wrongfully belittled her as delusional. Not you. Never you. What others called megalomaniacal, you deemed genius.

It surprised you that a witch as skilled and intelligent as Rowena was thrown out of every coven for not abiding by their regulations. Wasn’t the whole point of witchcraft to be free? Free from rules and restrictions, free from oppression.

What was the point, then, to make sorcerers bow again?

From the corners of your eyes, kneeling figures continued humming and swaying gently from left to right in perfect harmony, the unison a tidal wave, Rowena and yourself in the hurricane’s eye.

The irony didn’t get lost on you, but there was a difference between students and servants worshipping their Queen and the higher-ups pushing elbows.

Rowena deserved a crowd of devoted followers. Underlings whose attention was glued to her lips and the wise words they formed. Underlings such as yourself.

The fact that she picked you out of all of them filled you with joy beyond measure. It set your heart ablaze, your skin prickling with the pride that flowed through your veins. Rowena always rewarded those who worked hard.

“Can you tell me what it is we are doing, love?”

Despite her lowering her voice to a whisper, her thick accent was all you could focus on. Your eyes lit up at the prospect of getting to show off your knowledge. You had studied countless nights prior for this exact moment, to prove your worth to your mistress, to impress your very icon.

“A Sanguine Moon Ritual,” you beamed eagerly. “During an orgy under October’s full moon, the coven’s blood revitalizes in preparation for winter.”

Rowena’s sharp lips widened into a smile, and she tilted her head, softly patting your cheek twice.

“A textbook answer,” she nodded happily. Your heart jumped in joy, for her praise was all you and your coven-sisters craved. “And now in your own words: What are we doing, the two of us, you and I?”

You blinked at her, dumbfounded. Heat crept up to your face, caught by the palms of your Priestess still. How could you paraphrase something so sacred and taint it with your own crass, lewd language?

“We’re— uh, well…” In your trailing off, your gaze wandered away from her eyes and downwards.

You became painfully aware of her pale skin glowing under the moon — A Sanguine Moon’s gleam was reddish, complimenting the fiery copper of her curls. Though she was petite, her aura was all-consuming, able to knock a small gasp out of your lungs. Sigils and crests adorned her naked form, drawn with blood. She was breathtakingly beautiful.

Truth be told, the ritual was more of a front. You wanted her. You wanted to touch her, kiss her, worship her until the two of you would become one. The full moon was just an occasion. If it were for you, no stars, no planets, no suns would be needed to fuel your desire for her.

No longer stunned by your mistress’ blunt question, you cleared your throat.

You were not ashamed of your desire for her. She taught you better than that. You were proud of them.

“I am going to serve you and worship you,” you answered at last.

Rowena chuckled softly and tilted her head to the side. Her eyes flickered down briefly, scanning you from head to toe. Similar to her, you stood bare before her, skin illuminated by the moon creeping in through the windows and the dance of an arrangement of candles.

“Not quite,” she corrected you, letting her hands wander lower. Her tone was neither scolding nor condescending, but reassuring. Her fingers grazed over your shoulders, down your arms, before she took your hands into her own. “We, my dear, are going to indulge. You and I fucking each other stupid, nothing more, nothing less.”

Your blush deepened. Like you thought, Rowena was a woman ahead of her time, speaking her mind openly and proudly.

She squeezed your hands and pulled you in, her mouth crashing into yours, and you knew this was it. Pleasure for pleasure’s sake, two bodies sinking to the ground together, while a protective choir lingered around them, and a watchful moon heightened their senses. You returned the favor eagerly, your hungry lips chasing after hers, tongues dancing, teeth clashing.

Rowena’s hands found the curve of your waist, the shape of your hips. Your mouth found the slope of her neck, the column of her throat. Your lips burnt admiration into her collarbones, her touch branded lust between your thighs.

As she slipped her fingers through your sex, you moaned against her chest. You mirrored her movement, allowing your hands to map out every dip and curve of her. Once your thumb found her slick, you pulled her closer, circling her clit like she did yours.

The other witches, still kneeling, grabbed each other’s hands. Their humming grew louder and louder, matching the rhythm of Rowena’s and your moans, cheering you on. They were background noise and offering spotlight all the same.

Rowena and you paid them little mind, focusing on the tango between the two of you. Limbs entangled, flushed skin pressing together. The embrace was tight, intimate, holy. You both angled a leg each, tucking one under the other’s.

The woman across you bucked her hips, rolling them against yours, making you gasp. Her folds, warm and wet, kissed yours. Again and again, accompanied by the symphony of your moans and the portrait of her grin.

“Did you know,” she chuckled — as if you could focus on a lesson from her now — “A Sanguine Moon, or Blood Moon, is also called a Hunter’s Moon.”

Your brow twitched in confusion. The rest of your body was very sure of what it wanted and of what it needed to do. You kept moving, as if on instinct, grinding your drooling pussy against Rowena’s.

Where you were panting and breathless, she was perfectly grounded. The hitch of a breath here and there, nothing worth mentioning. She leaned closer, looming over you.

“The last moon was that of the harvest. Now, the season of predator and prey has arrived,” she explained, one of her hands splaying across your chest. Her touch was cold, sending a shiver down your spine.

Not the good kind, necessarily.

You thought you knew the tales. Some hunters, despite claiming to go after witches, believed that this full moon was the beginning of a successful month for their kind in particular. One where they could shed a lot of blood, hence the moon’s red hues. Scholars believed it to be a bunch of hocus-pocus. Though it wasn’t clear why exactly the Sanguine Moon was deemed to be that of the Hunter.

The wild look in Rowena’s eyes, her irises briefly flashing with purple lightning bolts, gave you an idea.

Suddenly, the witch pushed, knocking your back down against the cold stone floor. She towered over you, her legs still crossed with yours.

The lilac flash in her eyes didn’t vanish entirely. Instead, it traveled through her veins, stopping at the once crimson symbols on her skin. The marks were now glowing purple. The one on her thighs, where her skin met yours, burnt hotter than any fire’s flame could. The one on her hand began seeping into you, splashes of raw heat infiltrating your chest, like pin prick needles sinking into flesh.

You yelped, arching your back, but Rowena held you down. Surges of energy made a home in your heart.

“Relax, dear,” she hummed soothingly, her other hand reaching for your face to stroke your cheek. “You’re doing so good.”

She thrusted her hips against yours harder this time, the sound of wet skin against wet skin mixing with your whimpers and the chorus surrounding you. Pressure built within you, a tight coil forming in your very core and overwhelming all of your senses.

“Ex luna ad undas, a capite ad calcem. Esto quod es.”

Rowena’s voice boomed not through your ears, but your soul, emphasized by the continuous sway of her body against yours. The rest of the coven repeated the incantation, over and over again, chanting the words like a prayer.

Out of the moon to the sea, from head to heel. Be what you are.

Out of the moon to the sea

From head to heel.

Be what you are.

With another sharp move of Rowena’s hips, your vision turned white, and your whimpering turned into a screeching moan. Pleasure flooded your senses, blanking every thought in your mind.

It wasn’t until several seconds later that you recovered from your orgasm, a thin sheen of sweat coating your skin. Your eyelashes fluttered tiredly as you blinked up at Rowena, whose face was as flushed as delighted. Her teeth, white and bright, glistened through her wide smile. The purple marks dulled, like a flame slowly dimming.

She looked contented, the brush of her knuckles against your cheek confirming as much.

“Now, you’re one of us. One of mine.”

Rowena MacLeod Taglist:

@alwaysdaydreamingoffiction @angelicjackles @bejeweledinterludes2 @castielscaplan @chronic-fangirl-222

@foxyjwls007 @justwhisperingfantasies @ladykitana90 @mahi-wayy @multiversefanfics

Want to be added to the taglist? Fill out this >FORM< Want to be removed from the taglist? Send a DM Not sure if you're on the taglist? Check here

[spnbabe67]

Baby Don't Get Greedy

Kinktober Day Eight: Thigh Riding

Pairing: Rowena x Witch!Fem!Reader

Tags/Warnings: Smut, fingering, oral (f.rec), facesitting, dry humping, dirty talk, pet names (dearie, good girl), praise/degradation, overstimulation, Soft Domme!Rowena vibes, bottom!reader, reader is implied to have ADHD but nothing explicit is mentioned

Summary: Patience was never your virtue, so when you get impatient while waiting for Rowena to finish updating her grimoire, she instructs you to figure it out yourself (I suck at summaries, I am so sorry)

Word Count: 3.4k

Author's Note: Title from the song greedy by Tate McRae

Dividers: Line divider by @fae-and-wolf from this post—Rose divider by @thecutestgrotto

Tag List: @copperboom82

Kinktober 2025 Masterlist

Main Masterlist

Patience had never really been your virtue. 

You blamed it on the fact that you were part of the ‘instant gratification’ generations. Your parents definitely tried to put a stop to it, but given the omnipresence of technology in all its forms and its constant evolution, it was inevitable. It was like the world moved too slow for you, everything at a snail's pace and holding you back. 

Your parents had both been witches. Growing up, the danger of hunters, especially the Winchester brothers, could not have been stressed more. Stay hidden, keep a low profile, and only practice in private or when absolutely necessary. It wasn’t your fault, that was also stressed to you. You couldn’t help the magic in your veins, the undeniable pull you felt towards the arcane. The rush you got with every spell was intoxicating, even the smallest incantation left you with a high. 

The running joke between you and your mom was that she and your dad never had to worry about you doing drugs or drinking alcohol because of how much you loved the rush of casting spells. Not that it was much safer, given the fact that one spell at the wrong time could end with a bullet in your chest or head, and you were nothing if not impulsive at the most inopportune times. 

If only your parents could see you now. Not only had you met the Winchesters, but you lived with them, and were helping them hunt down the supernatural. They were wary, sure. That was to be expected, but it helped that you were not the first witch they worked regularly with. 

You had been enamored with Rowena the second she floated into the Bunker. At first it had been innocent enough. You watched in awe as she found and cast spells with ease, going so far as to teach Sam the very basics, the youngest Winchester proving to be a very avid student, eager to learn what she was teaching him. Hovering around their shoulders as she taught him, you observed every step, the way her hands expertly picked the very best ingredients, the thick accent in which she spoke, the incantations falling off her tongue with perfect diction—a testament to the centuries she had been practicing. 

A giddy smile had pulled tight across your mouth, reverence flooding your expression as you approached her. Just short of begging, you had done everything you could to get her to mentor you alongside Sam. Handing her your own grimoire, you spoke faster than you ever had before, detailing orally to her all of your own studies, your experience, your lineage. 

Your sigh of relief when she agreed, almost vehemently so, was a weight off your chest. Terrified of making a fool of yourself, her willingness and interest in you was a balm for your frayed nerves. 

Unfortunately, an influx of non-magic related cases flooded you and the Winchesters for months following the interaction. Case after case of ghosts, vampires, demons and shifters and by month 5 the subdermal itch to practice had become unbearable. Downtime finally arrived, but practicing on your own no longer had the same luster as it once did, the prospect of becoming better—learning—muted the once untouchable high of casting spells. 

But one day, not long after you had been slumped over one of the long tables in the library. You had been pouring over a large tome full of herbology, thumbing through the pages which were yellow with age, when the witch just appeared next to you. You had nearly jumped out of your seat, as she inquired into what you were studying. She had sat down next to you, and before you knew it, hours had passed, the conversation spanning a multitude of topics. 

It was the most riveting conversation you had in, well, you didn’t know how long.

With the lull in cases, Rowena started showing up more and more. She brushed it off as teaching you and Sam, holding joint sessions between the three of you. But what Sam didn’t get were one-on-one chats. In the library over breakfast with a pile of books taller than you were, late at night in your room while you lounged on your bed, her sat perfectly poised at your desk. At least at first. Slowly, as time progressed and the two of you met more frequently, she moved closer and closer, first moving the chair to the bedside, then ending up on the bed next to you. She would sit so close to you that all you could smell was the lavender and rose of whatever perfume she wore. 

Hours were spent in the alchemy room, her gentle words coaching you and Sam through the spells. As was the nature of your affinity for casting, you always had an easier time than Sam. The younger Winchester never grew frustrated, at least not when you were around, and performed remarkably well for a student. Dean was nice and all, but Sam was your favorite. He divulged to you one day over lunch that he wondered if it was because of Azazels’ blood in him that he was able to learn so quickly. He had been at the stove, making grilled cheeses for you both, back turned to you but still you could feel the uncertainty and fear roll off of him in waves. 

You had reassured him that many students, regardless of bloodline or supernatural afflictions, could perform just as well as he did. All that mattered was the integrity of the student and their willingness and passion to learn. He had thanked you, pulling you into a hug after the both of you finished eating. With Rowena’s permission, you had started to teach him on longer hunts that took you away from the Bunker for extended periods of time. Your own grimoire was nowhere near extensive as hers, neither was your knowledge, but the practice was good for you both. 

The more you learned, the closer you and Rowena grew. A substantial part of casting was the mental state of the witch who was attempting to use their power. And she had made it very difficult to concentrate. Her thick accent whispered into your ear, a steady hand on your back as you tried to focus your energy, making sure the pronunciation of the words matched perfectly. Bad things would happen if they didn’t. You had temporarily turned Miracle into a bunny once when you were attempting a complicated transmutation spell. After a lot of panic and Dean threatening to kick you out you managed to reverse the spell and the pup was turned back into his shaggy self. 

You knew it was just a matter of time before Rowena found out, always wearing your heart on your sleeve. You just didn’t imagine it coming out in the way it did. 

The witch had you and Sam facing one another, seeing who could place a truth spell on the other. It was supposed to be so that you could place it on whatever monster you were hunting, or a witness or victim who couldn’t remember what they had seen and been through. Concentrate, Rowena had scolded, walking around the two of you in slow circles. You were trying, but the way her purple dress hugged her figure, red hair cascading down her back like fire was a little distracting. 

One second, one flick of your eyes to her only to find her staring back, was all it took for it all to fall apart. Energy, the spell, formed between Sam’s hands and the next thing you knew you were being shoved back by said ball of energy as it landed square in your chest. Needless to say, some shameful rambling later and the cat was out of the bag. Sam knew, of course. You had told him weeks beforehand. He was your best friend, after all. And like the friend he was, he immediately made himself scarce not long after, excusing himself from the room. 

One truth spell, one kiss (followed by many more later) and 8 months later led here. 

“How much longer?” You groaned from where you laid on the day bed in Rowena’s personal spellroom. 

The entire space smelled like books and the herbs she used in the spells. Most of the wall space was taken up by bookshelves, tomes and scrolls of varying ages lining them. Daylight poured in from the rectangular windows, reflecting off of the crystals and glasses she had scattered around the space. 

“I don’t know, dearie.” Rowena sighed, exasperated. 

And rightly so.

It was the third time you asked in the last half hour. Your impatience was the one thing she didn’t tolerate, and you did your best to staunch it, but it was easier said and done. It was one problem that couldn’t be remedied by a spell. The promise of fun was alluring, greatly so. But it was locked behind the gate of work, an exercise in your restraint, which was clearly failing. 

“Sorry, Ro.” You said quietly. 

“No, you’re not.” She said, not looking up from her grimoire. 

She sat perched in a wide leather upholstered chair in front of a grand dark-grained wooden desk. The top of it held various bits and baubles, but most importantly her book full of spells. 

“Come here.” She lifted one hand to crook a finger at you. 

Nervous, you rolled off of the daybed, bare feet padding against the stone floor. The candlelight glanced off her shiny red hair, illuminating her soft looking skin and striking features. She had traded her normal elegant dresses for a flowy silk dressing gown. The two panels were loosely tied around her waist, the slit parting harshly around one bare thigh. 

“Ro—”

“Sit.” She instructed, not letting you finish your thought. 

You cleared your throat, ignoring the way your core pulsated. The flowy skirt you had been wearing gathered around your thighs, your hips as you climbed onto her lap. The way you landed put one of her thighs slotted between yours, the muscle of her quad pressed against your core with only the material of your underwear acting as a barrier. 

“Now, I’m gonna finish this spell, and you are gonna grind that little clit against my thigh like a good girl.”

The whimper that resulted from her words was entirely involuntary. Your hips shifted forward and the material of your underwear rubbed against your clit. Her nondominant hand rested solidly on your waist, an agent of stability and nothing more. It was clear she meant what she said, it was up to you right now. 

Cheeks burning, you could do nothing but comply. 

You shifted your hips again, settling further onto her thigh, the friction pulling a soft moan from your lips. Repeating the motion you felt your clit throb harshly. Your motions set a steady rhythm, slow and easy passes on her thigh. 

Quickly the material of your underwear grew damp, sticking further to your core. The added sensation, the friction, had warmth pooling between your thighs. Each breath that puffed from your lungs was punctuated by a light moan, desperate and needy. The obscenity of it all, you humping her leg no better than a bitch in heat, was half the excitement. You dragged your hips back and forth across the top of her thigh and with each centimeter your underwear became more and more saturated with your arousal.

Your legs, bracketing Rowena's began to shake, each twitch low in your belly a tick towards your climax. But the feeling was too dull, lacking that pleasurably sharp edge that meant actually tipping over that line. Increasing the rhythm, you tried in vain to find that tipping point, that line pleasure and a good time, and both those things with an orgasm at the end. But it never came, only your panting breaths and shaking legs with an increasing desperation.

You were right there. You could almost feel it, taste it, but in a sick joke it stayed just out of reach, not quite tangible. Frustrated and embarrassed tears put pressure behind your eyes, and you squeezed them shut in an attempt to push them back, 

“Such a pretty mess.” Rowena cooed in a sing-songy voice as she set her pen down onto her book and sitting back against the chair. 

Her green eyes surveyed you. They followed the curve of your body on her lap, the swell of your breasts, the lines of your waist. You watched in real time as her pupils expanded watching you try to fall apart on her thigh. 

A broken whine was your only response, bracing your hands on the arms of the chair. The blunts of your nails dug into the dark leather in a steadying grip. 

"What's a matter, dearie.” The condescension dripped from her words. “You wanted me, you got me.”

“Not. ‘nough.” You whimpered, leaning forward to bury your face in her neck. “Please, Ro.”

“Not good enough. Try again.”

“Please.” A sob cracked your voice, desperate beyond belief. “Pl—ease. Please Ro. Please touch me. Need you.”

Finally, her hands landed on your waist, really touching you now. Intentional with her touch, she smoothed her palms up the front of your torso, fingers catching on the ruchings of your sweater. A moan, a real moan, came when her hands groped at your breasts over the sweater. Aside from the material of the shirt, there was nothing between her palms and your breasts, having foregone a bra. 

It wasn't much, but it was enough. Her ministrations nudged you over the line onto the ascent of your climax. Again, you dragged your hips over her thigh with renewed vigor. That tight feeling along the insides of your thighs grew and grew until your legs shuddered, snapping close around Rowenas, moaning into her neck. Your orgasm washed over you in languid waves, your hips rolling in time as you worked yourself through the sensations. 

Rowena slid her hand up to your chin, tilting your head from against her neck. Her lips were warm and glossy against yours as she slotted her mouth over yours. The kiss was heady and needing, speaking to the restraint she had kept all the while you tried to get yourself off in her lap. 

“Go get on the bed.” 

You couldn’t get to your feet fast enough, though you kept your hand on the arm of the chair in case your unsteady legs failed you. Rowena wasn't far behind you, already kneeling your thighs as you landed on your back. With a snap of her fingers your clothes disappeared off your body. 

Jaw falling open, you watched with bated breath as she slowly pulled the tie of her dressing gown from its knot, the panels falling to the side to reveal her naked body underneath. With another flourish, she tossed the gown to the side, the material pooling on the ground in a mess of silk and lace. 

“So pretty, Ro.” You marveled, awe making your words breathy. 

“Thank you, dearie.” She smiled down at you. 

Her mess of red waves fell around her face as she leaned forward, lips coming into contact with the valley between your breasts. Hands finding your hips, her mouth trailed down the center of your torso. You reached down, fingers pushing her hair away from her face, watching her downward trajectory. 

You couldn't get enough air into your lungs as her tongue swiped across the space of skin just north of your clit. Lower back arching up off the daybed, your mouth dropped open as her tongue flicked down over your swollen clit.

“Ro.” You moaned, fingers tangling in her hair. 

Your thighs that had twitched closed were forced back open by her hands. For a woman who stood no taller than 5 foot 3 inches with a slender build, Rowena was deceptively strong. The flat of her tongue laved along your core, the tip flicking your clit as she went. Sloppy, open-mouthed kisses were laid along your clit, hands now a permanent fixture on your thighs to press them down against the daybed. 

Her skillful mouth had you barreling right back to that line, that edge. Your hips bucked up against her mouth, chasing her tongue. She was molten fire against your clit, your core, spreading warmth into your lower belly and thighs. Her name on your lips was a constant cycle, a plea and a prayer. 

Again, your pleasure at her hands wracked through you, her tongue lapping at your clit the epicenter of the shocks spreading through your body. All consuming, nothing else was on your brain, nothing but the feeling between your legs. Your clit tingled as the feeling waned, but not for long as Rowena kept going, except this time her dominant hand slid from your thigh to under her chin. 

“Ro.” You moaned. “I can’t. Too much.”

“Oh?” She popped her head back up, the pads of her fingers circling your entrance. “Was it you said not that long ago? It wasn't enough?”

“Ro.” Your voice cracked as her middle and ring fingers slipped inside you. “Please.”

“Be my good girl.” Rowena said, kissing your pubic bone before shifting her attention back to your clit. 

Not like you could really protest. Other hand still pinning your thigh to the bed, she held you captive under her touch, her mouth. You tried to squirm away, from her unrelenting mouth and dexterous fingers curling up inside you, but it was futile. 

The pressure built once again, each tick of pleasure tinged with pain as she brought you to the cusp of another orgasm. A haze started to cloud your brain; you couldn’t string together any coherent thoughts. Only her name. 

It fell desperately from you as your body seized hard beneath her. All your muscles tightening in sync as you clenched around her fingers. The only movement your body would allow was for your hips to squirm under her motions, trying to pull away from her. 

With a light laugh she shifted off of you, a hoarse sound came from you as she pulled her fingers from you. You lay there limp, vaguely aware of her kissing shocks back up your body. She crawled up to hover over you.

“Still with me?” She breathed against your mouth. 

“Mhmm.” You hummed your response, opening your lips for her. 

She kissed you deep and slow, tongue sweeping across yours. Her thighs were soft under your hands as you squeezed them, sliding around the backs up them and up to her ass. She laughed into your mouth, kissing you once more before breaking it. 

The anticipation grew in your chest as Rowena shifted further up your body. Following her lead, you shimmied down the bed so that she knelt with her heat right above your mouth. You couldn’t get her down fast enough. Your fingers dented the tops of her thighs as you dragged her down to meet your mouth. The taste of her on your tongue had you moaning into her clit. Her thighs pressed against the sides of your head, and you could hear her soft moans as you ate her out. 

She was a drug, one you couldn’t get enough of. You lapped at her core, paying attention to what you knew she liked and what made her moans get louder. The muscles in her thighs flexed against your head, as she neared her own climax. The angle of which she was perched changed, her leaning over more and more to rest her forearms on the arm of the couch. She was close, and that was all you needed to shift all your attention to her clit, each flick of your tongue another shove. 

Rowena cried your name as she came, hips grinding down onto your face, your mouth. Her resounding moans were music to your ears, even as her thighs tightened down around them. Fuck, she sounded beautiful. 

As the shuddering of her body subsided, she climbed off of your face, shifting to move back down your body. You let out a breath as she settled atop you. 

“See, now wasn’t that worth the wait?” She pressed a kiss to your collarbone.

A smile tugged at your lips. You shrugged. “Eh.”

She swatted your thigh. “Brat.”

Please like, comment, and/or reblog if you enjoyed! Feedback is appreciated and encouraged!

[miriunknown]

Rowena takes a liking to you

Rowena x Winchester!reader - drabble - relationship with Rowena is alluded too I tried to capture her accent as best I could, so bare with me on this.

Summary: you and your brothers encounter Rowena and she hits on you

Divider creds: @/cursed-carmine

An encounter with Rowena wasn't expected, as you stood with your brothers in the warehouse the three of you had been investigating, the witch's eyes landed on you. "Ah, if it isn't the prettiest Winchester.." Rowena said, a smirk gracing her lips as she approached you, her ginger curls bouncing slightly as she walked. You looked away, unsure of how to respond, cheeks burning somewhat at the comment, before you could even think of something to say, Dean stepped in front of you. "Rowena, back off." You rolled your eyes at his protectiveness, "What? Can I not appreciate her beauty? Seems a shame not to bring attention to it." She said, peaking over at you, causing Dean to move in front of her view of you once again.

"You're not gonna use your witch powers to seduce my sister, you evil bitch." He said, his nose twitching with irritation. She chuckled at his comment, "Oh, dear, you needn't worry. I would only sleep with her if she wanted me to." She said, winking at you, your face burned hot. Sam groaned at the comments she was making. "Please, don't talk about her like that." He said, grimacing at the suggestiveness of the conversation. Rowena giggled, you huffed as Dean still shielded you from the woman. "Dean, I'm not a kid, you don't need to protect me," you said, moving to the side.

"Yes, she's a big girl. You needn't worry about a big bad witch snatching her up in the night." She smirked at him, "Well… Unless she wanted me to, that is." She sent another wink your way, and Sam sighed, "Just stop. Geez, I don't want to hear this." He said, Rowena just laughed, "Hm, well, I must be off, I have important things to do. It was nice seeing you boys." She said, turning to walk away, "Oh, and dearie,' she said, turning to you,' Do call me sometime, you have my number," she said, turning away and walking out of the building. When she was finally gone, your brothers turned to you, "Really?!" Dean shouted, his arms waving in the air as he spoke, "Oh shut up, you're acting like you haven't slept with the enemy before." Sam nodded at that, "She is kind of right.." he said to Dean. Dean glared at him. "Oh shut up."

I wanted to write something for Rowena because I'm like so gay for her but I don't have the motivation for a full fic so you get a drabble, it sucks lowkey but let's ignore that.

[sinnamonangel]

the way i need a smut of gabriel x reader x rowena, its not even funny...

~🫦

[aspenmissing]

ꜱᴜᴘᴇʀɴᴀᴛᴜʀᴀʟ ᴍᴀꜱᴛᴇʀʟɪꜱᴛ

☆ꜰʟᴜꜰꜰ | ❋ᴀɴɢꜱᴛ | ✧ꜱᴘɪᴄʏ | ʀᴇQᴜᴇꜱᴛᴇᴅ

ʀᴇᴛᴜʀɴ ᴛᴏ ᴍᴀɪɴ ᴍᴀꜱᴛᴇʀʟɪꜱᴛ || ʀᴇᴛᴜʀɴ ᴛᴏ ꜱᴇʀɪᴇꜱ

𝚂𝚊𝚖 𝚆𝚒𝚗𝚌𝚑𝚎𝚜𝚝𝚎𝚛

𝙳𝚎𝚊𝚗 𝚆𝚒𝚗𝚌𝚑𝚎𝚜𝚝𝚎𝚛

𝚂𝚒𝚋𝚕𝚒𝚗𝚐!𝚆𝚒𝚗𝚌𝚑𝚎𝚜𝚝𝚎𝚛

𝙲𝚊𝚜𝚝𝚒𝚎𝚕 𝙽𝚘𝚟𝚊𝚔

𝙳𝚎𝚜𝚝𝚒𝚎𝚕

𝙹𝚊𝚌𝚔 𝙺𝚕𝚒𝚗𝚎 (𝙿𝚕𝚊𝚝𝚘𝚗𝚒𝚌)

𝙶𝚊𝚋𝚛𝚒𝚎𝚕

𝙻𝚞𝚌𝚒𝚏𝚎𝚛

𝙲𝚛𝚘𝚠𝚕𝚎𝚢

𝚁𝚘𝚠𝚎𝚗𝚊

𝙷𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚌𝚊𝚗𝚘𝚗

[ellieslittleburrow]

Requested by : @tr4zh-k1tty : Could I request like young adult Winchester reader having a huge one-sided crush on Rowena, I mean sure it's a 300 age gap or more idk, but they are probably worst.

Pairings : Rowena Macleod x reader

Warning : curse wordss

-----

"Helloooooooo!"

Oh...You've been impatiently waiting to hear those words... They hit your stomach so much more than anything else did. More than the spiciest taco ever could-

All of a sudden, a wave of embarrassment hit you. Rowena only decided to come when your hands were deep down the sink, unclogging the drain. You hurriedly soaped up your hands and rinsed them, faltering as you turned to look at...

Oh my....

It was as though a light transcended the thick walls and beamed against the witch's skin. She glowed as her bangs fell just over her eyebrows, ironic since her eyebrows are the most expressive part of her....her lovely fucking face...and you...your stomach...

"H-Hey-" You leaned back against the counter, the words slipping out your damned mouth like butter on wet marble. You cursed yourself internally. Did you have to sound so damn stupid?

The worst part of it all is that- As she walked by you, Rowena's lips tugged upwards, her eyes blazing through you.

Your nose picked up her scent and it sent adneraline coursing through you.

She knows how you feel about her and she loves it. She loves playing around like-

"Could you play with anything but my emotions?"

The witch froze and so did you-Fuck, man- you didn't mean to say that out fucking loud-

You agonizingly watched, body stiff as she turned around, lips curling in a wry smile.

What? Your head tilted to the side in confusion.

"Oh darling." Rowena purred as she leaped forward, stopping only an inch away from your face. Her eyes brightened and eyebrows arched upwards as she stared right through your eyes.

Her presence felt like it was pressing on yours. God-

"You know i'm...a teeny bit too old for you"

About 300 years but-i would've cared earlier if i wanted to.

"Plus, I...I must admit i don't share your feelings-"

Your heart stung, although she hadn't finished her sentence.

"but..." The witch brought her index finger to your cheek, ghosting over it. "I am...flattered!"

Pinching your chin, she pulled it forward toward her. "Sorry, darling." Then she tilted your head to the side, gluing a sensual kiss to your cheek before pulling away.

You stood frozen, all coked up- your face flooded with heat. No way that just happened to you. Classic Rowena, playing you like this-

"Did you just get friend-zoned by a medieval scammer?"

You spun around, snapping back to reality. Dean- not now, my guy.

You clicked your tongue as your eyes rolled to the back of your head. Dean wasn't actually looking for an answer and you weren't planning on answering him, anyway.

"I get it- she's hot but....Rowena?"

Apparently, he wasn't done either.

"I mean come on, man!"

------

Hiiii, sorry for the wait- hope you liiiked it! What do we think? 🖤🖤🖤🥀🥀🥀

[imaginesforfandom]

Supernatural Masterlist

Dean Winchester

Heartbeat Symphony:

Summary: After a long day on the road, the couple finds solace in the comfort of the Impala. The story explores the quiet moments between hunts, emphasizing the deep connection and love they share. Back at the bunker, they unwind together, appreciating the simplicity of being a team both in and out of the field. The narrative highlights the strength of their bond and the sense of home they find in each other's company.

A Messy Christmas Surprise:

Summary: Dean and the reader are baking Christmas treats at the bunker while Sam is on a hunt. Amidst the festive chaos, Dean cracks an egg on the reader's head, leading to a playful flour fight. Dean then picks the reader up over his shoulder, and they share a laughter-filled moment. Sam returns, finding the kitchen in disarray, and discovers Dean and the reader surrounded by flour and baking ingredients. The messy holiday surprise becomes a memorable Christmas memory for the Winchester trio.

Sam Winchester

Christmas Tides:

Summary: Sam Winchester surprises the reader with a heartfelt gift and invites them to share a quiet and cozy night together away from hunting. The two exchange stories, laughter, and meaningful glances. As snow falls outside, they find a moment of respite and connection, sealed with a sweet kiss under the mistletoe.

Reluctant Guardian:

Summary: After Sam gets injured on a hunt alone, Castiel sends a trustworthy angel to heal him. There's a catch though, the reader and Sam seem to butt heads all the time

Castiel Novak

Angelic Apologies:

Summary: When a routine day in the bunker takes an unexpected turn, the reader accidentally punches Castiel in the face. Filled with guilt, apologies pour forth, only to be silenced by a surprising and passionate kiss from the celestial being. As the reader hesitates and pulls away, Castiel delivers a romantic yet slightly creepy declaration, showcasing his unique understanding of human interactions.

Heavenly Christmas:

Summary: Castiel experiences Christmas traditions for the first time with the Winchester brothers and the reader. As they decorate the tree and exchange gifts, Castiel learns about the holiday spirit. The story culminates in a magical moment under the mistletoe, where Castiel and the reader share a sweet kiss, making it a Christmas to remember for everyone involved.

Rowena MacLeod

Enchanting Christmas:

Summary: Rowena, the enchanting witch, confesses to the reader that the holiday season has awakened new emotions within her. The two share a magical moment, culminating in a kiss that transcends the ordinary. As they celebrate the festive season together, they discover the unexpected joy of love in the midst of holiday magic.

Jack Kline

Mistletoe Moments:

Summary: As the holiday season wraps its magic around the bunker, Jack Kline finds himself intrigued by the mysterious allure of mistletoe. Little does he know that this Christmas will bring about more than just festive decorations.

[1000roughdrafts]

Supporting Characters x Reader Master List

Lots of stuff in here - Gabriel x Reader, John Winchester x Reader, Rowena x Reader, Charlie x Reader, Donna x Reader, Crowley x Reader, and more (general/no pairings)

Remember that there are some 18+ explicit works, so please heed all warnings!

Gabriel X Reader

💘Coffee Shop ~ fluff, Gabriel is very much alive and just full of surprises, isn’t he?

John Winchester x Reader 

Mini Series xx 

💚Stop Asking Me To Come Back ~ flangst, kissing; Y/N and John have always had a cat and mouse chase type of relationship, where one runs and the other chases, and vice versa, but typically fall into a Dom/Sub type of relationship. John is tired of the games and when Y/N realizes she wants something more she’s too little too late. 

💚Stop Asking Me To Come Back (2) ~ 18+, smut

Wayward Women x Reader 

Charlie x Reader 

💖Confessions ~ one shot, flangst, heavy topics; You were best friends with Charlie since elementary school. One day, she just vanished. During the years you spent without her, you went down a dark path that brought you onto a road of addiction. Now she has returned to spend a day with you and talk about all the years that have passed without each other.   

Rowena x Reader 

💖What Happens During Research ~ fluff; no plot, just silliness 

💖 You Look Yummy ~ 18+ 100% smut literally nothing but sex

Donna X Reader 

💖Don’t Leave Me, Not Again ~ flangst; When a hunt in Minnesota goes awry and the Winchester’s go silent, you ask your ex-girlfriend, Donna, for help

Crowley x Reader

One Shots xx Both 18+ / Explicit

Hush -  unprotected vaginal penetration, oral sex (female receiving), BDSM, this isnt ddlg but it kinda has that vibe, a bit of an OOC Crowley,

A Night With The King - Request from Anon: Can I have Crowley flirting with a v nervous and quiet reader? Maybe w a splash of Dean jealousy because he’s been pining after her forever?

General:Supernatual x Reader (no pairings) 

💛Cop Car ~ (Dean, Sam, Reader) Drabble; reader stole a cop car and Dean wants to drive it. 

💛Saving Dean ~(Dean, Reader, Sam) imagine 

💛Live and Let Die ~(Sam, Dean, LittleSister!Reader) angstish,fluff; After years of arguing with your older brothers, they finally let you go out and hunt on your own, but it was nothing like what you expected. After killing your first demon, you call them up for some comfort.   

💛Cherry Pie ~ Drabble; Dean loves pie, what else can I say?

💛It’s Time to Let Me Go ~ angst; Raphael has started a war with only one request to end it all: you. Are Sam and Dean willing to let you go to save the world?   

💛Hi Dad ~ Drabble; based off of this prompt -  “She stared at him, holding her favorite teddy bear in one hand and his pistol in the other. “Hi dad,” she whispered.

💛Little Tree Part One | Part Two ~ Being a sheriff in a small town, you were surprised when a body was found, making it the first murder in over 50 years. The alarm bells really went off when the FBI showed up as quick as they did. Despite your initial thoughts, you were lucky that they had. (completed)  

💛 Coming Out - Request from @the-nb-florist "I was wondering if you could make a brotherly sam and dean where the reader comes out as Non Binary? The Reader is like Fem but they identify more with mass stuff. I just want supper fluff and sweet. Thank you so much!!"