you know, whatsherface (slash_a_holic) wrote in tehgutter,
you know, whatsherface

  • Mood:

Crack. Crack crack crack.

icecreamkiller: I was going to ask, what if Harry's asshymen was the last horcrux. And the only way to kill Voldemort was to destroy it. And so he had to have anal sex with someone.
bribitribbit: afdkjk LOLOLOLOL
bribitribbit: yes, it's suuuch a burden I'm sure, being on top during buttsex
onlysayitonce: afldjf
he has to have
a magical ass hymen wand
with a button that makes it sprout feathers
and a special fisting ceremonial glove
kurla88: OH GOD

Yeah, um. I wrote it.

Hard R, 1100ish words, utter crack. I am so, so ashamed of myself for this. Harry's ass hymen has dialogue, for God's sake. Well, read on, if you dare.

The Real Final Horcrux

Harry, Ron and Hermione stood silently on the lip of a smoking crater. They had just succeeded in destroying the fifth Horcrux: Rowena Ravenclaw’s legendary jewel-encrusted pompoms. (No one had ever used them, since they were too heavy and too prone to taking out eyes. This tended to put Rowena in a thunderous sulk, back in the day.) As they stared down into the abyss, still running on sheer adrenaline from their spectacular, ellipsis-filled adventure, Hermione felt a hand creep across her shoulder. Well, a bit down past her shoulder, actually, to a place that was Entirely Inappropriate. "Not the time or place, Ronald," she said, removing the hand.

"Blimey, Hermione!" Ron said whinily, as his other hand inched its way into Harry’s trousers. "We’re three emotionally vulnerable teenagers, scared out of our minds and bubbling over with hormones and lust! What better time is there for a Trio threesome? Bloody ‘ell!"

Harry nodded, groping Ron’s manboobs absentmindedly. "Countless fics have begun this way, you know. So, what do you say?"

"No!" shrieked Hermione, stamping her foot. "Hormones are the tools of the devil! We have to focus on what’s really important: the last Horcrux. I’ve been doing some research, Harry. And the final Horcrux - it lies deep inside you. In your anus, to be more precise. Yes, Voldemort’s shattered soul lives on - " She broke off, sobbing in disgust. "In - in - "

Lighting flashed. The breeze ruffled Harry’s fringe. Wind chimes tinkled ominously.

"It’s in your ass hymen!"

Ron swooned.

Harry nodded gravely. "Yes, I expected something like this. All those private lessons from Professor Flitwick - I knew there was a reason they involved so much fisting."

"You have to have anal sex with someone, before it’s too late," whispered Hermione, stepping on Ron (lying sullied in the grass). "We must find you someone worthy. Someone willing to fuck you till the morning light. Someone - "

"LIKE ME!" shouted Draco, prancing heroically out from behind a bush.

"How long have you been there?” inquired Harry, nearly coming in his pants.

"I’ve been here all along, studmuffin. Just waiting for your call."

Hermione clapped her hands. "Excellent! Well, I’ll leave you to it. Look, there’s a conveniently abandoned shack, probably well-equipped with exotic sex toys and glitter lube and such. Cheerio!" With a slightly hysterical look, she sprinted off, leaving Ron on the ground moaning something about smelling salts. Draco arched an eyebrow, Harry orgasmed six times, and they set off for the shack.


Once inside, Draco seized Harry and ripped off all his clothes in one gesture.

"How did you do that?" gasped Harry, looking with bewilderment at the pile of rags at his feet.

"Magic, twinkletoes. Now, let’s get down to business. This isn’t any ordinary ass hymen. It’s going to be damn near impenetrable. Thankfully, I’ve got a few tricks up my sleeve."

Draco donned a miner’s helmet, switched on the light, and flopped down on the floor between Harry’s legs. "This might feel a little odd." The next thing Harry knew, he was thrashing around like a dying carp with what felt like a broomstick up his arse.

Draco cackled. "Oh, there’s more!" He swished his wand, and there was a sudden clicking noise. The stick sprouted feathers. Harry squealed. "You’re moving too fast! I need emotionally intimate conversation first!"

"Please. We both know you’re a total manwhore. This is for the good of wizardkind, you know. Just lie back and think of England," replied Draco snippily. Harry seemed to relax a bit. "Well, at least get rid of the bloody feather wand. This doesn’t count as foreplay."

"Fine." Draco pulled out the feathery stick with a spluuuurp noise, and tossed it into the corner. "How about this?" He raised a hand, which was now encased in a shimmery, white glove. It seemed to give off a halo of crackling energy, and Harry could almost hear a choir of angels singing ("Fiiiisting, fiiiiiisting...") The glove looked soft and inviting, and Harry bent over without even thinking about it. Draco drew back his arm, and ever-so-gently rammed his fist halfway up Harry’s colon.

"Oh yes! Yes! Oh, God, Filius - erm, I mean, Draco! Your ceremonial glove is, and I can feel the sparkles deep within!"

Draco smirked, and slowly removed his hand. "I think you’re ready, Harry. The Dark Lord is about to be the power of buttsex." Harry gazed up at him adoringly. "Take me now, lovechunks." Draco nodded, and led Harry to the bed, pushing him onto all fours as Draco kneeled behind.

"What about the glitter lube?" asked Harry worriedly.

"Lube is for wimps," replied Draco in an authoritative tone. "Everyone knows anuses are self-lubricating anyway. And yours is magical."

"Oh, all right then. Let’s do this thing. Voldemort, take th-aaaaaaaUUUGHHH!"

Draco’s pelvic thrusts shook the headboard, slamming the flimsy wooden walls with every push. "YES! YES! RAM MY RECTAL CAVITY! SPEAR ME WITH YOUR FLAMING LANCE OF FIERY FLAME!" screamed Harry in ecstasy.
The thrusts got deeper and more powerful, and with a mighty crash the shack fell down around them. At that exact second, Harry felt a terrifying sensation deep within him. Something - tearing. "NOOOOOOOO!" cried Harry’s ass hymen, as Harry himself had eighty-five consecutive orgasms and slipped into a momentary coma. (Draco came too.)

Afterward, they lay side-by-side on the bed, which was strewn with bits of wood and stray feathers. "Well," said Draco. Harry turned over and looked at him with shiny, shiny anime eyes.

"Pretty good, I’d say."

Harry burbled.

"Nothing like Horcrux-destroying sex for a good time. Now all you’ve got to do is battle Voldemort to the death," said Draco. "But remember, I’ll always be by your side if you need a boost of morale." He petted Harry’s chest hair and kissed him softly. Harry smiled, and turned over to gaze at the stars above.


"She just left me there!" exclaimed Ron, sobbing into his teacup. "And I didn’t even get to deflower Harry. I’m his best mate, but when that Draco ponce came along with his jumpsuit and his fucking shiny glove, I didn’t stand a chance."

"Ah, Ron, it can’ be all tha’ bad," boomed Hagrid. "Come on now. If Harry doesn’t wan’ a bloke like yerself buttsexin’ him from dawn to dusk, well, tha’s his problem."

"It’s just - " Ron sniffled, ears red. "No one will ever love me."

"Now, now, Ron, c’mere." Hagrid gathered him into his massive arms and scratched him behind the ears. "Tell yeh what, yeh can have my anus! I’m long overdue fer a good buggerin’ anyway. Yeh can fit yer whole arm in there!"

Ron looked up, joy spreading across his face. "Oh, Hagrid!"

"Yeah, tha’s right. C’mon, hop to, I haven’ got all day."

Ron beamed. Things were looking up.



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