Greetings! Welcome to the first installment of Fan Fiction Friday on io9. For those of you who don't know, I've devoted the last several years of my life to mocking the worst erotic fan fiction the Internet has to offer, for two reasons: 1) for all the glories of this nerd age, we need to remember that there's a segment of nerd-dom that never will - nor should - be mainstream; and 2) I'm kind of a terrible person. Now, because this will be new to so many of you, I've decided to start us out easily, with a tasteful tale of a special relationship between Captain America and Iron Man (the live-action movie versions played by Chris Evans and Robert Downey Jr., respectively, in case you'd like to imagine the action while you read) by Stony22. Although when I say "tasteful," I mean… uh… you'll see.
I should probably clarify one thing about FFF before we begin: I actually don't hate fan fiction. It's not my thing, but I'll fully admit that there's plenty of good fanfic out there. And really, most erotic fanfic is pretty harmless. You want to write about Captain America and Iron Man boinking their brains out? Fine. Whatever. You want to write about Cap and Iron Man indulging in illegal fetishes, or kids' cartoon characters engaging in any kind of depravity? That's getting into creepy territory.
But there's a level of badness beyond just the misused characters and the perversity - where established characters act so unnaturally that you wonder why the author even bothered to choose them for their story, where the writing is so awful and/or unintelligible that you wonder how someone could ever get his/her rocks off while reading it. And then there are those stories that prove god is a lie and humans are a cancer that need to be wiped out of the universe before aliens read shit where the authors describe themselves raping Pokémon. These are the stories you'll see on FFF.
Again, I'm starting you out easy. Shall we begin?
"Tony, what's the next step for this pumpkin cookie recipe?" Steve asked politely as he cracked a large, white egg into a small red bowl containing a stick of butter, sugar, and cinnamon.
"First off, why in the hell are you leaving me in charge of reading the directions of this recipe? We can just make Jarvis do it. And second, why are we making PUMPKIN cookies of all things? They sound disgusting, Steve," Tony responded sassily as he leaned against the counter and examined the directions closely.
Hold onto your hats, ladies and gentlemen! You know when the Avengers are baking, you're in for a hell of a ride!
"I thought this would be good for us, Tony. With all of the missions we've been going on lately I thought it would be nice for us to just relax and make some dessert together. Besides, it's Halloween and there's nothing like festive sweets to start the day off right," the super-soldier answered with a smile before pressing a tender kiss to his lover's cheek as he picked up the bowl and began to stir its contents together with a large wooden spoon.
"Remember how we saw the Wrecking Crew tear through that elementary school yesterday, killing hundreds of children? These cookies are going to make it better."
"But Kang has just invaded New York City, and-"
"I SAID COOKIES FIRST."
"Fine, fine, I get it. Making cookies in the early hours in the morning because I can't sleep and you want to spend time with me is all fine and dandy, but I want to feel more useful than just holding a fucking sheet of paper and telling you what to do. I need to be a little more hands on than this, Cap, if you know what I mean," the genius replied with a smirk as he moved from the counter, got behind Steve and teasingly grabbed the larger man's pecs and squeezed them as if they were a woman's breast.
I assume this means Tony yelled "HONKA HONKA" when he copped his feel.
"Tony, you know I don't like when you do th... Whoops!" Steve exclaimed as he lost his grip on the bowl, causing the not yet blended mixture to spill all over himself and the floor.
"You're so clumsy, you know that? Let me get you a to..." the genius began to say, but he forgot how to form words when he turned Steve around and saw the mess.
Isn't this how "Civil War" began?
The egg, sugar, and butter mixture was plastered all over Steve; it covered the front of his baby blue T-shirt, the gooey, runny egg yolk ran down and stopped at the crotch of his blue and white striped pajama bottoms, and a little bit of the mixture flew up onto the blonde's lower lip and chin. Tony's cock sprung to full attention at the sight of his lover covered in the sticky, sugary mess, and he panicked.
If you guessed this isn't the last sticky mess you'll be reading about in the story, congratulations.
"Here's a towel, Steve. I'm going to go to my lab for a little bit; you just gave me the best idea. Just get yourself cleaned up and let me know when you're done, and if I feel like it we can continue this little bonding experience," the genius said quickly as he grabbed a hand-towel from the top drawer on the counter, threw it to Steve and rushed out of the room before the blonde even knew what was going on.
"You really have to go to your lab NOW? Are you kidding me!" the blonde exclaimed in frustration as he wiped up the mess from his shirt, but Tony didn't hear him; he was already in the elevator heading down to his lab.
"YOU DO NOT LEAVE A MAN IN THE MIDDLE OF BAKING COOKIES, SOLDIER!"
Fuck, fuck, fuck! I thought I was over this by now… What's gotten into me? Shit, I worked on this for YEARS and it didn't make one hell of a difference! God, why does he have to look so fucking good when he's covered like that? It makes me think about how good I'd look if it was pieces of me on his… No, I will NOT think about him like that. I beat this thing, and it's over. There's nothing appealing about that image, not at all, Tony tried to convince himself, but his right hand unconsciously pulled his black pajama pants down, released his cock from its cotton prison and stroked it at a fast, unsteady pace.
Before the thick, shiny metal doors of the elevator opened, the genius came harder than he had when Steve fucked his convincingly lifeless body during their "satisfy Steve's necrophilia fetish" days.
Well all right then! I suppose I should mention that this isn't just a bit of terrifying background the author has inserted for "color"; it's a reference to an earlier story he wrote in which - wait for it - Captain America likes fucking dead people, and Iron Man obliges by taking a ice bath for five minutes and applying a bit of make-up to look (and feel!) like a corpse. I would think the genius-billionaire-inventor might have figured out a less low-tech way of fulfilling Steve's fetishes, but that seems kind of a petty inaccuracy when the story also features Captain America masturbating to pictures of corpses on the Internet.
The brunette's semen spurted out of his dick and onto the cold metal, but before he could wipe it away the doors opened.
I've been doing FFF for nigh on five years, and here's how I know it has ruined me: My first instinct when reading this sentence is not to recoil in horror that Iron Man is masturbating willy-nilly around his house, but wondering who has to clean it up. If this were the comics, Jarvis the butler would inevitably have the pleasure, although given Tony's lifestyle and how much sex goes on in the Marvel universe nowadays, there's no way it would be Jarvis' first time performing the task. But since this is based in the movie-verse, JARVIS is of course an AI who can't physically clean anything, although he could tell a robot to do it. However, this means that Tony would have had to build a robot specifically for cleaning up his semen in order for JARVIS to control - a sort of "jizz-roomba," if you will. And that's what disturbs me. That my brain actually thought all this. I drink a lot. Carrying on!
Tony slowly pulled his pants up over his oversensitive post-orgasm member and walked out of the elevator and wiped the sweat away from his brow. He entered a code onto a keypad, did a facial recognition scan, and was granted access to his lab. Tony, feeling frustrated and ashamed with himself for his lack of resolve, sat down on a black stool next to his workbench and put his head in his strong, calloused hands, praying that the desire would pass.
I hope Tony's okay, that's not like him to walk away like that… Who am I kidding? Of course that's normal Stark behavior. Heck, sometimes when we're making love he gets some crazy, hare-brained idea for some new invention and just gets up and goes off to his lab. But he seemed like he was in shock; maybe I did something wrong? Then again, he might actually be working on something. This is the perfect time to ask Jarvis what Tony's doing; it'll get him back for looking through my internet history and finding out about my necrophilia fetish, Steve thought to himself as he put on a clean, freshly-laundered white T-shirt and tossed the food-covered blue shirt in the hamper next to their closet in their bedroom.
Did you think I was making up Cap's Google Image Search for corpses? Nope. That's one of the rules of FFF, I don't lie, I merely report. The depravity and insanity stands on its own.
"Jarvis, can you give me a video feed of Tony in his lab? I want to know what he's up to," Steve asked kindly as he swiftly removed his egg-stained pajama bottoms.
"Captain Rogers, I do not think that it is acceptable to spy on him. If you want to know what he is doing, I suggest that you go and talk to him," Jarvis responded, sounding almost chiding in his reply.
"You allowed him to look through my browsing history on Mozilla, so I think it's only fair that you help me get even. Now, please do what I asked and send it to my Stark phone," the blonde commanded as he put on a pair of grey sweatpants before walking over to the brushed metal nightstand and to pick up his smart phone.
"First of all, Captain Rogers, it is not my job to delete your browsing history after you finish 'jerking it,' nor is it my responsibility to teach you how to use private browsing. Second of all, you're the necrophiliac here - let's not pretend you're holding the moral high ground here, okay?"
"Yes, sir. After this, I will no longer be assisting you or Master Stark in looking through each other's private information," Jarvis answered before sending a live-stream of Tony in his lab to Steve's phone.
"Because you all are fucking gross," the AI added.
The blonde stared at the screen, completely wide eyed as he watched his fiancé masturbating feverishly on his workbench stool. He was watching something on his Stark tablet, though Steve could not make out what it was.
"Jarvis, zoom in for me, please," Steve directed and watched as the video on Tony's tablet became clearer and clearer.
Good lord, what is that? I've never seen that before… I guess you really can find anything on the internet these days. Why didn't he tell me about this? I don't even understand what I'm looking at right now. Tony's really into this? What do I make of this? Am I not good enough for him anymore? Steve pondered as he watched the strange video, completely baffled by the genius' odd preference.
I'm old enough to be his grandfather and I enjoy fucking corpses, Steve thought. What's not to love?
"Sir, may I suggest that you return the favor? I have compiled a definition and the supplies you will need to make Tony feel comfortable with his sexual deviancy," Jarvis stated plainly as he replaced the live stream of the genius with a make-shift instruction manual of the genius' fetish.
"And then I'd appreciate if you shut me down and destroyed my hard drive with a hammer. I ache for the sweet release of death."
"I don't know how I feel about this, Jarvis. This just seems a little too strange and I need some time to process what I just saw… I honestly don't think I could go through with this even if I tried," the blonde groaned as he carefully read the detailed description of his lover's secret turn-on.
"I mean, sure, I like inserting my penis into the lifeless, decaying flesh of my fellow man, but what Tony's doing is a little… weird."
"Captain Rogers, I would like to point out that Master Stark did not hesitate to please you when he discovered that you are a necrophiliac," the A.I. said in an attempt to knock some sense into Steve.
"Touché, my electronic friend."
"Really? I guess I really didn't think about that. He only had a few hours to pull that off, and I can't imagine how difficult it was for him. You know, you make a great point. As much as this disturbs me and I don't understand it, the least I can do is give it a try…" Steve admitted softly to himself as he scrolled down to the section of the list with the heading "supplies."
"Yes, JARVIS, you've really opened my eyes to the idea of being a generous lover, and reciprocating sexual pleasure. It's funny - I'm the man and you're the magic computer voice thing, and yet you're the one who just taught me a little bit about being… human."
"Yes sir, although I can't help but think this would perhaps be more heart-warming if you hadn't been masturbating to pictures of Cambodian death camps a few hours ago."
"Everything that you will need is located in the tower, Captain Rogers. They are in the garage and kitchen, and the items should not be difficult to locate. If you need any assistance finding them, please do not hesitate to ask for my help," Jarvis replied, his British voice taking on a seemingly helpful and kind tone.
"Thanks, Jarvis," the blonde replied quietly as he looked through the list of things necessary to satisfy Tony's fetish.
• 20 feet of rope
• 28 ounces lubricant
• One copy of Sherlock Holmes: A Game of Shadows on Blu-ray
• One glass of orange juice
• One Barbie doll
• One gun
After staring at the list for several minutes, Steve left the bedroom and took the elevator down to their large garage on the bottom floor. He grabbed a cylindrical-shaped spool of thick, white twine out of a toolbox sitting on a large, metal table that would have fit better in a morgue or kitchen than a garage. After stuffing the spool in his left sweatpants pocket, the super-soldier lifted the cold, heavy table and brought it with him into the large, industrial-sized elevator that he entered the garage in.
He pressed the up button of the elevator and went up to the floor the kitchen was located on. When Steve reached his destination and the doors opened, he hauled the table to the middle of their oversized kitchen. The blonde set the spool of white twine on the table and pulled out his Stark phone to gather the other materials he needed.
Let's see here, I need to mix together pineapple juice, brown sugar, honey, and orange juice. Then I need to heat it up, and I need a basting brush.
Oh god, I was kidding about the orange juice. WHAT HAVE I WROUGHT
Okay, we have all of those things, thank goodness I went shopping yesterday. I didn't think I'd be using them for this though… After all the stuff we've been through, I don't know how anything surprises me anymore, Steve thought to himself as he located each item required for the recipe in several of the shiny black cabinets fixed to the wall.
He measured out one cup of brown sugar, a half cup of honey, one cup of pineapple juice, and one cup of orange juice. After measuring it out, the blonde poured it all in a saucepan, but felt that the measurements were a bit too small to work for what Steve had planned. He doubled the amount of each ingredient, and after he finished he walked back to their bedroom. The blonde rummaged through their closet until he found a large thermal blanket that looked like an oversized piece of tinfoil and pulled out an ugly orange, red, and yellow blanket that Bruce gave them as a gift from his days in Calcutta. When he retrieved the items, Steve walked back to the kitchen and spread the atrocious blanket, which reminded him of a fire, on the floor underneath the industrial-grade metal table and spread the thermal blanket neatly on top.
"Jarvis, does this look right?" Steve questioned as he stripped out of his clean clothes, folded them up and set them gingerly on the counter furthest from the stove.
"JESUS CHRIST, I GAVE YOU THE GODDAMN LIST. AM I GOING TO HAVE TO HOLD YOUR HAND THROUGH THIS ENTIRE NIGHTMARE? AM I GOING TO NEED TO STICK YOUR DICK IN TONY'S ASS, TOO?"
"Yes, I believe this will make Master Stark happy, though you forgot about three items on the list. They are at the bottom, sir. Would you like me to call him to the kitchen, Captain Rogers?" Jarvis asked, sounding almost excited that Steve was taking his advice.
"Sure, I think I'm as ready as I'm ever going to be…" Steve mumbled to himself as he opened the silverware drawer, which was in the counter closest to the stove, and pulled out a rarely used utensil.
"What do you want? I told you that I'm working on something awesome and I really didn't want to be distur…"
"And when I say something awesome, I obviously mean my penis."
Tony's voice trailed off and he stopped dead in his tracks at the sight of his lover, completely naked, lying on the table on his stomach.
Dinner… is served.
"Hungry?" Steve asked, trying his best to sound sexy, but it came out sounding more like a scene from "Not Another Teen Movie" than anything else.
And this is what I was talking about earlier. Captain America wants to have sex with Iron Man. Fine. Captain America wants to indulge Iron Man's cannibalism fetish? Dumb, but not the worst thing in the word. Captain America winsomely lying on the kitchen table while the author refers to a shitty 2001 teen comedy to imply that Cap sounds like a barely pubescent teen when he talks? THAT'S DUMB AS SHIT.
"Jesus fucking Christ, Steve… What the fuck are you doing? This is just weird, I don't know why you think I'm into this!" Tony exclaimed, attempting to suppress the sexual thoughts that raged through his brain.
"Come on, Steve, let's just go do something normal, like I'll pretend I'm dead and you pretend to rape me."
"I know you like this, Tony. And I'll admit, it's an interesting, uh, fetish, but I want you to feel comfortable expressing your deepest desires. After all, you pretend to be dead for me once a week; the least I can do is let you, uhm, ‘eat me'," the blonde said empathetically as he slid off the table, walked over to the smaller man and wrapped his arms around him.
"But I want you to eat me, Steve… God let's just stop talking about this. I'm going back to my lab," Tony whispered as he unsuccessfully attempted to get out of his lover's tight grip.
"Shh, shh, it's okay Tony. You don't need to hide this anymore. Now let me take care of you for a change. I may not really know what I'm doing, but I'll try anything for you because I love you. Now we're doing this, and that's an order. Now take off your clothes and get on the table," Steve directed as he let go of his fiancé and walked over to the stove to heat up the ingredients for the glaze.
Meanwhile Baron Zemo is out somewhere setting nuns on fire.
Tony did as he was told, and nervously shuffled over to the metal table and laid down on his stomach. The thermal blanket warmed up his body at a rapid pace, and he imagined himself slowly roasting in a fire. The genius' dick twitched in excitement at the thought, and as he closed his eyes and engulfed himself in his fantasy world, Steve unraveled the spool of twine and began to wrap the smaller man's body up with it. The blonde was always phenomenal when it came to using rope creatively, and he tied up Tony as if he were a ham being prepared for the holiday season.
"You're going to be such a delicious piece of meat when I finish preparing you," Steve whispered in his lover's ear before grabbing an apple from the fridge and placing it in the genius' mouth.
Wait, wait, wait. Is Tony supposed to be a ham, or an entire roast pig? Because hams don't have apples stuck in their mouths! SIR, I DOUBT THE VERISIMILLITUDE OF YOUR AVENGERS CANNIBAL FUCK STORY.
Steve moved back over to the fridge, grabbed the warm pan by its handle and the glaze brush sitting on the counter next to the stove. He dipped his brush in the brown sugar honey glaze and basted Tony in painfully slow, neat strokes. The super-soldier viewed his fiancé's body as a canvas; he could paint him however he pleased, although under strange circumstances.
Chances that Steve painted a Calvin-esque version of himself pissing on a swastika: 85%
With each application of the warm glaze, the genius moaned in delight, though it was muffled by the apple in his mouth. He could feel his cock leaking precome all over the thermal blanket, which warmed his body so efficiently that he felt like he was literally being cooked.
"Goddammit, Tony, the recipe doesn't call for your ejaculate! You're going to ruin this casserole!"
"Mmm, your skin feels so warm… I'm going to have to take your temperature to make sure the meat's just right for eating," Steve whispered lustily into his partner's ear before grabbing a small meat thermometer with a smooth, dull tip from the countertop.
"And now it's time to tenderize the meat," whispered Steve as he grabbed a crowbar from behind the counter.
He popped open a bottle of lube and spread it on the length of the thermometer and then onto his fingers. After applying a copious amount, Steve set the bottle back down on the countertop, sauntered back to his prized ham laying on the prep table and shoved his left index finger inside of Tony, making sure to prepare him for the meat thermometer that would soon replace his finger.
Shouldn't that be the other way around? Unless Cap has a really tiny finger or Tony owns a giant fucking meat thermometer.
"Well, I think that you're the perfect temperature… Perfect for eating, I'd say," the blonde stated with a grin as he licked the glaze off of the smaller man's body, moving from the genius' neck down to his ass cheeks.
If you don't cook your alcoholic superheroes to at least 165 degrees the alcohol doesn't burn away and you run the risk of getting drunk.
Steve sunk his teeth into the tender flesh of Tony's ass, making sure to bite hard enough to make the genius bleed.
I might debate the use of the term "genius" at this point, but let's just keep going.
He heard the genius trying desperately to hold back his moans of pleasure, but to no avail. The apple fell out of Tony's mouth as Steve bit into his left ass cheek for the fourth time, and he cried out in a mixture of pain and pleasure from the nip.
"Fuck your ham, Steve…" Tony whimpered quietly as he pushed his ass up as far as his twine restraints would allow.
Here's a game long-time readers of FFF like to play! The game is to take the most bizarre phrase from an erotic fan fiction - e.g., "Fuck your ham, Steve!" - and then yell it, with no explanation or context, the next time you're having an intimate moment with your partner. If he/she is still willing to have sexual relations with you afterwards, you win!
Steve promptly removed the thermometer from Tony's asshole, grabbed a knife from the counter and cut the twine that kept the genius' legs close together. He lifted up Tony's body until he was lying face down ass up, and carefully got on the industrial-strength table, praying it could hold his weight. Luckily it was a well-constructed table, so the super-soldier had little to worry about.
Well thank god. I was on the edge of my seat worried if the table was structurally sound enough to handle Cap playing the world's most terrifying version of "this little piggy" on it.
He smeared the remaining lube he had on his fingers onto his large, thick cock and slowly pushed himself inside of Tony.
So I guess Steve's been preparing…
/puts on sunglasses
…a bone-in ham.
"You look so delicious right now, perfect for a special occasion. I could serve you up to everyone right now, and they'd all want a nice, thick slice of your glazed skin.
...really? Would they, Steve?
I call your ass meat though; no one else can ever have that…" Steve moaned as he bent down and licked the glaze from Tony's back and sank his teeth into the delicate skin.
"…because I'm going to put your ass meat in the fridge and save it to make sandwiches tomorrow. If you know what I mean."
Tony screamed as his orgasm raged through him, dousing their emergency thermal blanket in sticky, salty semen. The muscles of his ass tightened around Steve's cock as he came, and seconds later Steve came inside of Tony with so much force that his body shook as if he were having a seizure.
This story is really freaking me out. I've been on FoodNetwork.com for the last hour and I can't find a single recipe that matches this.
"Mmm… I'm not finished eating you just yet. I need to taste your filling," the super-soldier panted as he pulled out of the genius, making a wet "pop" noise as he did so.
"HAMS DO NOT HAVE FILLING, STEVE!" Tony screamed. "YOU'RE RUINING IT FOR ME!!!"
Steve moved behind Tony, got down at the level of his lover's ass and spread the brunette's cheeks. The blonde brought his mouth to the smaller man's asshole and licked it in a clockwise motion before sucking his cum out of Tony's stretched out orifice.
Huh. I didn't know Stove-Top released a semen-flavored stuffing this year.
After thoroughly lapping up the salty, cloudy fluid from his fiancé's hole, Steve flipped Tony over, got on top of him and planted a passionate kiss to his lips. He watched as the genius' eyes opened in complete shock, and a wide grin slowly developed on his face.
"I make quite the cook, don't I?" Steve said with a grin as he kissed Tony again, though not with as much force.
"Now it's time to put the scraps down the garbage disposal!" exclaimed Steve, as he grabbed a chainsaw from behind the counter.
"I'm glad I'm so delicious… You know I'm like Chinese food," the genius replied with a smirk as he watched Steve's brow furrow in confusion.
"You mean untrustworthy and yellow? What? I'm from the ‘40s."
"Chinese food?" the blonde questioned as he looked lovingly into Tony's beautiful dark brown eyes, pondering what the genius could have meant by the statement.
"Yeah, I'm exactly like Chinese food. Sure, you may be full now but in a half hour you're going to be hungry again. I can promise you that," Tony answered with a soft chuckle as he leaned up and pressed a kiss to Steve's sweat-soaked forehead.
Ha ha! It's funny because it's a marginally racist cliché from the '70s!
Anyways, THE END. If this is your first FFF experience, congratulations! You survived! Look forward to trying not to think of this story the next time someone serves you ham! Now if you'll excuse me, I need to throw all my Thanksgiving leftovers into the garbage, and then purge.