Thanksgiving at The Weasleys (CH 1) (Patreon)

A/N: This story is rated M for mature content not suitable for children.

All characters engaging in sexual act are eighteen years or older.

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Chapter 1: Chaotic Welcome

The Burrow

The Burrow was chaos, loud and glorious. Naruto, having dimensional-hopped into this new world of magic, was used to noise, but the sheer volume of Weasleys was an experience. The house was overflowing with warmth, food, and the distinct scent of woodsmoke and old magic.

"Ah, Naruto, my boy! Wonderful to have you for the Harvest Feast, even if the concepts are slightly different from your home world," Arthur Weasley boomed, shaking Naruto's hand enthusiastically. "Tell me, what’s a 'Ninjutsu technique' and does it involve actual combustion in the food preparation?"

"It’s mostly internal energy control, Mr. Weasley," Naruto grinned, already sweating from the heat of the oven and the sheer density of people.

He found a precarious seat between Ron and a nervous-looking Percy, but his attention was immediately snagged by Ginny across the table. She looked magnificent. Her hair was pulled back, but a few strands of fiery red kept escaping, framing a face that was usually composed of quiet mischief. Today, she seemed… restless.

Naruto had always experienced a subtle, lingering attraction towards the youngest Weasley, appreciating her vibrant personality from afar. After he had unintentionally arrived in this world years ago, he and Ginny formed a unique connection; however, her affection for Harry created some space between them. Yet tonight, that gap seemed to vanish.

He watched her pour drinks, her hand steady, but her eyes kept flicking to him.

"Here, Naruto," she said, her voice a little too casual, as she placed a glass of deep orange pumpkin juice near his elbow. "Ron got the last of the butterbeer, so you're stuck with this. It’s fresh from the garden pumpkins."

He nodded thanks, taking a healthy gulp. It was sweet, but there was a strange, almost electric fizz to it. Weird taste for juice, he thought, shrugging it off.

Almost immediately, the kitchen lights seemed to dim, and Ginny’s fiery hair seemed to glow brighter. The noise of the dinner faded slightly, replaced by a hyper-awareness of his own pulse and the sound of her breath. He could hear her swallow. He could feel the small tremor in her elbow as she leaned back.

What the hell is in this pumpkin juice?

The amplification was immediate and overwhelming. It wasn't the kind of simple charm Naruto had heard about from some of the weaker students at Hogwarts; this felt like raw, aggressive want channeled directly into his chakra pathways, making his skin tingle and his senses sharpen to an uncomfortable degree.

He tried to focus on Ron, who was complaining about Quidditch, but all he saw was the curve of Ginny's throat, the way the light caught the delicate freckles on her nose. Every one of her micro-expressions was suddenly an earth-shattering event. When she smiled at a story George told, Naruto felt a white-hot spike of possessiveness that was entirely new and entirely too aggressive.

He met her eyes again, and the feeling was mirrored. Her playful restlessness had curdled into a tense, focused intensity. Her chest rose and fell rapidly beneath her simple blouse, and her pupils were slightly dilated—just like a kunoichi anticipating a life-or-death confrontation.

She knows. She feels it too.

It wasn't affection they were feeling; it was the unbearable pressure of potential energy, the kind that preceded a massive explosion of fire release.

“Oi, Naruto, you alright?” Ron nudged him. “You look like you just saw the Basilisk in a party hat.”

“Fine, Ron,” Naruto managed, his voice coming out unnaturally gravelly. He didn’t break eye contact with Ginny.

Ginny leaned forward, placing her elbows on the table, her body language now overtly predatory. “He’s just hungry, Ron. Aren’t you, Naruto?” The question was laced with dangerous implication.

She reached for the butter dish, her hand tracing a deliberate path across the wooden table, perilously close to Naruto’s own fingers. When their skin finally brushed, the contact sent a visible jolt through Naruto. It felt like sticking a wet finger into an electrical socket—painful, but thrilling.

Ginny sucked in a sharp breath. She didn’t pull away. Instead, she pressed her thumb into the back of his hand, a silent, blazing confirmation of the mutual fever gripping them.

“I heard the Quidditch supplies are still scattered in the old broom shed,” Ginny announced suddenly, standing up so fast her chair scraped the floor. Her voice had an edge of frantic desperation. “They need to be checked. Before dessert.”

Everyone looked at her blankly. “Ginny, it’s the Feast, not clean-up day,” Molly scolded gently.

“I’ll do it,” Naruto immediately volunteered, rising with a focused intensity that made the room fall silent. He wasn't thinking; his body was operating on pure, amplified impulse. “I’ll help Ginny.”

He wasn’t waiting. He was moving.

Naruto didn’t walk around the table. He simply closed the distance, grabbed Ginny’s wrist—his grip far too firm for a casual movement—and pulled her with him. Her surprised gasp turned into a breathless laugh as he steered her violently past Mrs. Weasley’s concerned look and slammed the swinging kitchen door shut behind them.

The hallway was cold and dark, a perfect contrast to the heat inside them.

He pressed her against the wall, the rough, ancient wallpaper digging into her back. The sudden, forced intimacy caused the tension—already at breaking point—to detonate.

“You lied,” Naruto growled, his face inches from hers. His breath was hot on her skin.

Ginny didn’t resist. She threw her head back, challenging him. “About the broom shed? Maybe. About needing to get out? Never.”

“The pumpkin juice,” he corrected, his eyes dark. “What was in it?”

A flicker of guilt crossed her face, quickly replaced by a predatory smile. “A little something Fred and George were working on. I thought it was a mild attraction charm. Seems I grabbed the wrong vial. It doesn't make you love me, Naruto. It just… magnifies everything. All that frustration and want we’ve been ignoring.”

“It’s working,” he admitted, his voice barely a rasp. He didn’t need the potion to want her, but the magic had stripped away all caution and inhibition, leaving only raw, exposed need. “And you feel it too.”

“Yes,” she whispered, her hands flying up to grip the sides of his head, pulling him down further. “It’s been building up for weeks, but now… it feels like a fire in my blood. I might explode if you don’t touch me.”

Naruto didn't need any further prompting. His mouth crushed hers in a desperate, bruising kiss that was all urgent teeth and demanding pressure. Ginny responded instantly, a sound of pure, hungry affirmation escaping her throat as she wound her arms around his neck, pulling him tighter. The small, private space of the hallway was suddenly too large for the desperate way they were pressing their bodies together.

He tore his mouth away, scattering heated kisses down her neck, tasting the faint scent of cinnamon and fire. “Where?” he demanded, needing privacy, needing space to move, needing her.

Ginny’s voice was shaky, driven by the same amplified panic. “Upstairs. Ron’s room. They’re all downstairs. Hurry.”

Ginny realized that if anyone came looking for them, her room would be the first stop. However, they likely wouldn't consider Ron's room, which was usually a mess and a place she avoided. That was precisely why it would be an ideal spot for them to be intimate.

Naruto scooped her up, a quick, powerful lift that brought a surprised yelp out of her, and began sprinting silently up the narrow staircase, his mind completely focused on the release he knew was waiting.

Lemon Scene Ahead

Ron's Room

Ron’s room was a mess of Quidditch posters, discarded homework, and mismatched socks, but neither of them noticed. Naruto kicked the door shut with his heel, the soft thud muffled by the house’s ancient wards.

He dropped Ginny gently, but urgently, onto Ron's narrow, squeaking bed, following her down immediately. The room was cold, but their bodies were an inferno.

“Naruto, my shirt,” Ginny panted, fumbling with the buttons. “I can’t—I can’t get it off fast enough.”

He didn't waste time with buttons. He yanked the cotton fabric, sending three buttons flying with a loud snap, and tossed the blouse across the room. Her bra, simple and white, was all that contained the ripe curve of her breasts, and the amplified need made him seize up.

He devoured her mouth again, more tenderly this time, but with a fierce, possessive rhythm that stripped away any remaining control. His hand traced the line of her ribcage, slipping under the restrictive band of her bra, feeling the swell of her chest beneath his palm. Ginny arched against the touch, a guttural sound of plea and release caught in her throat.

“I want you now, Naruto,” she whispered, her voice raw. “All of you. Now.”

He tore his own clothes off with brutal efficiency. His shirt, his trousers—all discarded in a pile of hasty fabric. He was all muscle and tight control, a primal figure she had never seen on any wizard.

Ginny was already working on her own jeans, kicking them off the end of the bed. She wore simple white cotton knickers, damp with her own juices. The sight of her, vulnerable and flushed, made his vision narrow.

Naruto pinned her hands above her head, his knees sinking into the soft mattress on either side of her hips. He leaned down, burying his face against the silk of her neck, scattering fierce kisses downward toward the goal he desired. Ginny cried out, thrashing her head against the pillow as his mouth found its target, her wet, panty-clad pussy.

He was aggressive, demanding, and utterly consumed, driven by the magical amplification. He ripped her panty off with no effort, showing the smooth flesh beneath. Ginny was no less primal, crying his name, urging him, her hips lifting relentlessly against his face in a desperate plea for more. The sheer force of her climax was explosive, the magic maximizing the intensity until she screamed into the pillow, her body convulsing wildly.

Naruto didn't wait long. Driven by the same need, he positioned himself between her legs his cock aimed at her tender flesh. Ginny’s eyes were wide and focused, the raw, beautiful need overriding everything else. She wrapped her legs tightly around his waist, pulling him in with a fierce, possessive pull.

Naruto's entry was powerful, a single, deep thrust that made Ginny gasp, her nails digging deeply into the taut muscle of his shoulders. There was no gentle ease into the rhythm; it was immediate, frantic, and desperate, two bodies consumed by a magical fever they couldn't control.

He drove into her, a primal rhythm fueled by chakra and magic, his thrusts deep and punishingly fast. He enjoyed how tight and wet she felt around him.

Ginny matched him stroke for stroke, her hips meeting his, her breath coming in ragged, broken gasps. The bed squeaked and groaned under the assault, a dangerous, loud accompaniment to their frantic pace.

“Don’t stop! Naruto! Don't stop!” she pleaded, the words half-sob, half-command.

The climax hit them both at once, an overwhelming tidal wave. The release was blinding, a flash of pure white sensation that made every muscle in Naruto’s body lock up as he groaned her name. Ginny screamed, her body tightening around him like a vice; his seed hit the wall of her womb, painting it white.

Lemon Scene End

The afterglow was immediate, but it was accompanied by a slow, creeping sense of return to normalcy. The electric fizz was fading, and the feverish, blinding tunnel-vision began to clear.

Naruto collapsed onto the damp sheets beside her, his chest heaving, his mind catching up to the last thirty minutes of aggressive, magical impulse.

He looked at Ginny. She was utterly exhausted, sweaty, and flushed, but also smiling with a genuine, sleepy happiness.

“Well,” she whispered, her voice husky. “That was… effective.”

“Effective?” Naruto chuckled, the sound shaky. He reached out and brushed a damp strand of hair off her forehead. “Ginny, you almost made me take you in front of your family. That potion… it amplified things. But tell me this—was any of it real?”

Ginny turned her head, meeting his eyes calmly. The aggressive heat was gone, replaced by the familiar spark of the young Gryffindor he knew.

“The potion just amplifies what you already feel, Naruto,” she admitted softly. “The feelings? Those were all real. They were just hidden under a lot of self-control and a lot of chaos at the Feast.”

She reached for his hand, weaving her fingers through his. “Happy Feast, Naruto. Thanks for helping me with the… uh… Quidditch equipment.”

Naruto smiled, leaning over to kiss her forehead, a slow, gentle kiss that confirmed the truth of her words. The amplified need was gone, but a new, solid foundation of true affection and passion remained. He settled back onto the pillow, pulling the sheet up over them.

“My pleasure, Ginny. Now, let’s see if we can sneak back downstairs before they realize we missed dessert.”

"Yeah," Ginny concurred, aware that her mother probably had an inkling of what she and Naruto were doing, and might have even assisted in keeping others from finding them. But it didn't really matter; she had found her guy. What a shame that Ron's bed was now a disaster. "That must be the first time that bed has ever seen action," Ginny mused, recognizing that her clueless brother had never had any women in his bed before.

Chapter End

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A/N: I hope you enjoy the story! It's a brief Thanksgiving-themed tale that I'll be sharing on my Patreon and Ko-Fi accounts. As always, thank you for your support, and stay tuned for the next update!