Hermione and the Pizza Boy
This story starts on a dark and stormy night, with that oldest of porno-movie cliches: "I think I'll order a pizza, immediately forget that I ordered the pizza, and take my clothes off! I'll be dressed again before he arrives, really!" And when the doorbell rings, the porn starlet answers it, meets the good-looking well-hung virgin pizza-boy (TM), invites him in out of the rain, and suddenly, the all-too-familiar bass-heavy porn groove fades in as Mary Sue and Supporting Character learn The True Meaning of Love.
Or at least screw each others' brains out.
Except that this author added a novel twist. This Mary Sue won't settle for having blissful steamy sex with one of J. K. Rowling's characters. She'd rather have the pizza-boy -- and being a properly ambitious understudy, she's willing to elbow Hermione out of the way to get her chance in the spotlight. But her pronouns give her away!
Hermione spread my legs open for him so eagerly.
He was hard again and she showed him how to lick my clit...
Hermione could feel him getting bigger and bigger inside of me as they fucked.
In addition to this daring innovation, this piece of moist, runny crap has all the usual features of bad fan fiction. The author's painfully obvious lack of sexual experience makes it impossible for her to write anything even remotely credible about sex. Her grasp of grammar and syntax are at best tenuous. Her characterization is simply nonexistent. And her spelling would drive any good English teacher into a padded room, mourning the premature deaths of two handfuls of red pens.
In short, this story wants to be a letter to Penthouse when it grows up -- or, failing that, when it graduates from grammar school. In its current condition, however, it is guaranteed to induce nausea, persistent nightmares, or abdominal cramps in anyone foolhardy enough to read it.