Side Affects May Vary
Garreth Weasley x Reader
~★~❤︎~✦~
Kinktober Masterlist
“So. That was your dueling potion?”
The Room of Requirement shimmered into existence around you, warm and familiar. You stepped inside, balancing a plate of food from the Great Hall; a bowl of beef stew and a mince pie. “Brought provisions,” you called out, voice light. No response.
It had taken on Garreth’s brewing preferences again—stone floors, potion shelves stacked high, a central table cluttered with bubbling cauldrons and scattered parchment. The air smelled like parchment, cinnamon, and something unmistakably Garreth. He stood in the middle of the clutter, hunched over a cauldron, his back to you, shoulders tense. Steam curled around him, and as you got closer, you noticed the way his hands trembled, the way his breath came in short, shallow pants.
“Garreth?” you asked, setting the plate down. “What's the matter? ” He turned slowly, and your stomach flipped. His face was flushed cheeks red, lips parted, eyes glassy with something far too intense to be simple concentration. Sweat clung to his brow, and when he saw you, his whole body seemed to shudder.
He breathed. “Thank merlin you're here.”
You stepped closer, your own hands shaking as you reach for him. “Garreth?” He doesn't answer, instead reaching for you. Hands eagerly grabbing your waist, pulling you flush against him like he couldn't bear even an inch of distance between the two of you. His mouth crashed into yours, desperate and hot, and you gasped as his hands roamed, frantic in his actions.
“Garreth,” you managed between kisses, “What's happened?”
He groaned, burying his face in your neck. “Potion. I drank it. It was supposed to heighten magical sensitivity, but it's backfired.”
You felt the heat radiating off him, the way his body trembled against yours. His breathe goming out in short burst against your neck. “Do I need to take you to the infirmary?” he shakes his head.
"No, no, no i-i just need you" his voice his pitiful, making your heart ache. You gently stroke his hair, "Please" he moves from your neck kissing you again. His hands gripping your thighs, lifting you onto the potion table with a strength born of pure magical desperation. Bottles clinked and parchment fluttered to the floor, forgotten. You didn’t resist, wrapping your legs tightly around his waist.
Garreth has always been passionate, whether it be about potions or you. This though was different, it was pure passion, raw unfiltered need burning in his veins. His fingers fumbled with your buttons, groaning in displeasure when he can't open it. Mind going a million miles per hour. You move your hands from your hair quickly removing your shirt. His breath hitches every time your skin met his.
"Every nerve, is on fire for you" he groans, placing open mouth kisses on your chest. Your body warms under his touch, burning with the same energy as him. You grip his hair roughly pulling him back to your mouth.
Magic sparked around you, as he sunk into you. The potion shelves rattling, the cauldron hissing, and the air thickening with heat and want. Garreth moved like a man possessed, every thrust desperate, every touch greedy. You met him with equal intensity, your body singing with pleasure, your mind blank with need.
“Merlin,” you whispered, breathless.
“Your burning me” he murmured, lips trailing down your collarbone, “I need you closer deeper.” The table creaked beneath you, potions bubbling in the background, and you clung to him like he was the only thing keeping you grounded.
When you came, it was like a spell breaking—your body arching, magic bursting around you in a wave of heat and light. Garreth followed with a cry, clutching you tight as the room pulsed once, then settled.
You collapsed against him, both of you trembling, breath mingling in the charged air. The potion table was a mess—scattered notes, overturned vials, and a mince pie flattened on the stone floor.
Garreth rested his forehead against yours, still panting. “We've made quite a mess.” You glanced around the wrecked table, the lingering magic, the flushed and satisfied boy still wrapped around you.
"We? Your the one that went completely wild"
Garreth laughed, voice hoarse and wrecked as he kissed you again, slower this time. “I didn't hear you complain.” he smirks that cocky look on his face that warms your heart. You giggle turning on your side to look at Garreth. One of his arms draped across your waist, his hair a mess of curls. He was still flushed, still panting lightly, but the wild edge in his eyes had dulled to something softer.
The two of you lay there for silent except for each others breathing. The air was still thick with magic and sweat and the lingering scent of cinnamon, but the shelves had settled, the cauldron had stopped hissing. You brush a curl from his face a cheeky smile on your face. “So. That was your dueling potion?”
He groaned. “It was supposed to be. Heightened reflexes, sharper focus, magical sensitivity. Not…” He gestured vaguely at the wreckage around you. “A sex potion.”
You snorted. “You seemed very focused just not on dueling.”
Garreth laughed, then winced as he sat up. “I need to bottle it. Before it destabilizes.” You watched him stumble toward the cauldron, still half-naked. He grabbed a clean vial from the shelf, muttering under his breath as he siphoned the remaining potion with practiced ease.
“Still warm,” he said, holding the vial up to the light. The liquid shimmered—amber and gold, swirling like fire. “I’ll need to label it properly. Maybe add a warning.”
You raised a brow. “Warning: may cause uncontrollable lust and table sex?”
He flushed deeper. “Something like that.”
He sealed the vial with a flick of his wand, then scribbled a quick label. You peeked over his shoulder, pressing a kiss to the freckled skin there, and watched as he hesitated—pen hovering. “What are you going to call it?” you murmured.
Garreth hummed, then wrote Sensory Amplification – Batch One (Unstable) in his messy scrawl. Beneath it, in smaller letters, he added: Field-tested. Results… intense. You snorted, and he grinned, bright and wrecked and entirely yours—and tucked the vial away like it was a secret worth keeping.
