This is a cute and fluffy love story for the PieQueen ship. Hints of SpoonQueen (the one in Rumple's castle)
warning: this is a crack!fic, so don't take it too seriously ;)
It feels…warm. Everything is warm. As I come to, I realize I'm in an old stone oven, my crust browning on the sides from the flames licking at me. I'm a pie. A blueberry pie. It's nice and warm in here but I hope that whoever's making me takes me out soon, or I'll be burnt and completely ruined and inedible… My purpose in life is to bring joy through my tastiness, so if that happens I'll be devastated…
Ah! I hear the sound of steps nearing me. The oven's metal flap is opened, and two purple oven mitts come my way, grab me on my sides, and takes me out. The sudden change in temperature takes me by surprise, but I quickly regain balance, placed upon a countertop.
My maker seems to be a dark-haired peasant girl. She's dressed in brown robes with a purple cloak on her shoulders, protecting her from the autumn's chilliness. I hope she'll find me tasty.
"Whew. Finally done! I hope the Queen will like this pie, it's granny's special recipe after all, no one can resist it!"
Oh. So I'm meant for someone else? I'm meant for a Queen? Wow, I'm so honored! I hope I can suit her royal palate, it must be so delicate! I hope she likes sweets… Oh no what if she doesn't like me? She's probably had thousands of pies better than I before…
No! I can't get disheartened! I'm a delicious pie and proud of it, and this Queen will like me, and she'll find me scrumptious and delightful, she'll even lick her fingers clean! I bet I'm so good I'll even get her to moan at how yummy I am!
A good ten minutes pass as I cool down on the kitchen table, the village maid going around, cleaning the flour and the little mess she made when cooking me. A voice booms from the door.
"Quick! The royal carriage is arriving! We've all got to be present for the Queen's birthday!"
Her birthday? Fear grips me for a moment. It can't be? She must've eaten lots of cake today already…unless it's still early? Will she have enough appetite to eat me?
I suddenly realize I've been moving, hurriedly carried by my raven-haired maker. I'm still nervous as ever, anxiously watching the black knights approaching fast, their helmets and heavy suits hiding the Queen from my view.
They break apart to make a passage and a magnificent, breath-taking woman, all dressed in black comes into my view. She's dressed in a dark gown with a high, turned up collar with feathers sticking out. Her long beautiful locks come down from her high ponytail, sometimes brushing against her exposed cleavage.
My maker leaps forward from the crowd, presenting me to the Queen. "Happy birthday, my queen."
The Queen's head snaps in our direction, smiling, and she stalks towards us in a few short strides.
My nerves are so raw, the tension is building and I feel like passing out. She's so close, and even more striking from here, and I focus on her full, red lips. If I could, I would gulp, knowing that I'm to meet with such an attractive sight…
I don't have time to think as the Queen's hand flies towards me, her middle finger sinks into me and curls pleasurably. She retreats her blueberry-coated finger from my warmth and pops it into her hot mouth, her face twisted in delight.
Her mouth stretches in a content smile, and she looks back up at the peasant girl. I'm still so in shock I don't register her words at first. My glee and happiness are short lived.
"Blueberry…not bad. But I prefer apple!"
With a wave of her hand she moves my maker aside, her expression turning to one of annoyance.
I'm heartbroken. I feel numb, cold, anguish and sorrow gripping at my insides. Even though she got a quick taste of my sweet tanginess, she rejected me. She didn't want me, didn't eat me.
My purpose in life is gone. What have I to live for? The enthralling Queen for which I was created, for which I existed, my only desire in life being to please her…gone. I completely tune out whatever happens after she stated she preferred…apples. What do apples have that's better than me anyways?
I take notice of my surroundings once again much, much later. Trapped in an endless pit of desperation and misery, I'd been returned to the kitchen. From the darkness and apparent cold, I can easily understand that it's nighttime. I wonder what my fate will be…Will they just throw me out? Eat me themselves? Give me to the dogs…?
Another pang of pain shoots through me, reminded once again of the complete and utter failure I am as a blueberry pie. But suddenly something changes. I feel someone's presence in the kitchen, a dark figure slowly approaching me.
Regina didn't know why she came back. She'd had such an awful day, she didn't even want to think about it. First, she'd been ambushed by Snow fucking White and her little troupe of magical friends, whom she'd been clement enough to let live because it was her birthday…and what a birthday it was. Tears threatened to fall once again as she thought about how she'd lost the last person she loved, the only person in her life she trusted above anything else…
Damn her mother. She'd get him back, she'd go to hell and back for Daddy… But first she was going to eat some pie.
Her party had been so boring (only two deaths…), and the cake sub-par. And somehow she hadn't been able to forget that blueberry pie the peasant had offered her earlier that day. Yes, she'd always had a preference for apples (as snacks and as weapons), but weirdly she felt a pull for this sugary, melty and just delicious blueberry pie…and she'd only gotten a quick taste of it, too!
Searching comfort, she'd poofed herself to the village girl's kitchen, in search of the pie she hoped they hadn't eaten or thrown away. Lighting a fire in her hand, she illuminated the room with a soft glow.
Finally spotting it on a countertop, she walked towards it and noticed it was completely untouched. Perfect!
This pie just seemed so fucking good she had to eat it. She could almost taste it in her mouth, and her tongue poked out to wet her lips in anticipation.
She took it in her hands and teleported herself back to her chambers in the Dark Palace.
I can't believe this is happening. I feel so euphoric and happy I don't know what to do with myself…if I could move that is. The Queen came back for me! This means she thought I was good! Gosh if only my maker knew…she'd be so proud!
The Queen took me back to what seems to be her regal chambers, and she put me down on her mahogany coffee table. She's coming back towards me, her heels clicking on the floor, a little silver spoon in hand, and she lowers her body onto the chaise longue, her curvaceous body on display. Her hand reaches out for the plate she put me on, and the tension builds once again. It seems to me like everything is going in slow-motion as I get nearer and nearer to her. Spoon in hand, she delicately breaks through my pastry crust.
Regina's mouth is watering, and she makes a conscious effort to keep her hands steady. She slowly brings the first spoonful to her mouth, and her lips finally close on the sweet, runny blueberry goodness. This must be the best pie she's ever eaten, and she feels her worries and pains of the day just melt away. This was definitely the best gift she'd had this year. Her mouth puckers slightly around the silver spoon, sucking in any crumbs or juice that could've still been on the utensil.
Her mouth makes a slight popping noise as the now clear and clean spoon breaks away from her lips.
Oh yes. She was undoubtedly going to eat this whole pie.