Disclaimer: This is really terrible and nothing good could ever come of reading it. Proceed with caution.     ---     >The front door slowly creaks open, revealing the darkened living room beyond. “Derpy, are you here? The letter I found crammed into my toaster told me to come by.” >A voice calls from deeper in the house. >“Come on in!” >Tentatively, you step inside, and seek out the source of the call. >There's a hallway to the left, one door cracked. >A dim light flickers through. “Derpy?” >“In here...” >You gently push the door open. >Candles litter nearly every surface, giving what you now see is the bedroom an oddly romantic glimmer. >The whole room smelled of blueberries... or maybe banana nut. Cranberry? >There, in the center of the room lay the grey and blond pegasus, on a large four-poster bed. >Almost every square-inch of the bed not occupied by the wall-eyed pony was obscured by muffins of every imaginable type. >She looks at you with at least one eye, her half-lidded gaze leaving only one of the amber irises visible. >She raises a hoof, and beckons you inside. >Stunned at the sight, you find yourself unconsciously moving closer. >Were you really doing this? Like, you liked the bubble-marked ditz, yeah, but more of a friend than anything. >But then again, the growing tightness in your pants seemed to say otherwise. >Before you could stop to think, you were already on the bed, knocking a few muffins to the floor. >You crawl over to your prize, neither party breaking (half) eye contact. “Derpy...” >She puts a hoof over your lips, shushing you.  >“No words now, only muffins.” >She holds up a muffin with her other hoof, and places it in her mouth. >Gently biting down, she only holds it there, waiting. >You pick up and approach, biting down on the other side. >Ooh, chocolate chip. >Attacking your shirt with one hand, you start to work her body with the other, rubbing and massaging wherever you could. >A low moan signified things were going smoothly. >Both of you bite down further, severing the baked treat from your grasps and letting it roll down her body and off to the side. >Still chewing, you both move closer to join the crumbly particles together once more in a somewhat messy kiss. >Unbeknownst to you or anyone else until now, you were apparently some kind of one-handed clothes ninja, because you were already down to just your boxers. >Breaking off the kiss, you both swallow, uncaring of who's mouth each bite started in. >You move your hands lower, and lower, nearing the fabled Valley of Derp. >A grey hoof shoots down and stops your arm at the gates. >“Wait... use this.” >She holds up another one of the muffins. >You stare blankly at it for a moment. “...Seriously?” >Her unchanging expression answers. >With a shrug, you take the  freshly-made creation and begin tracing along her slit with the lightly glazed top. >This elicits a much greater moan of pleasure. >The gates start to open in anticipation. >Before you can move the muffin away and get to the real fun, her hoof again stops you. >“...Deeper...” >You're a bit hesitant to continue at this point, but her controlling grasp decides for you, pushing your hand forwards and lodging the crumbling pastry inside of her. >“Nghff... oh yes...” >Deeper she pushes, until only the edge of the ruffled cup is sticking out. “Uh...” >You move your hand away, and she simply grabs the muffin directly, getting to work herself. >“Oh... oh muffin...” “The fuck are you doing?” >You kind of sit there for a minute, now obviously completely forgotten. >The blond pegasus seems to be lost in her own world, one where only she and the muffin exist. “Umm... I'm just... I'm gonna go.” >You forlornly pick up your clothes and walk out of the house, not even bothering to put them on. >Cock-blocked by a fucking muffin. What the hell. >You can hardly believe this wasn't even the first time this has happened. >Fucking Applejack and her apple fetish. >You're starting to wonder if you're going to have to fuck food yourself if you have any hope of scoring in this crazy world.   >Man, ponies are weird.