May I ask for a tiefling magician x female baker reader?
It was the summer festival and the heat of the sun bearing down was not made any lighter by the fact that the streets were packed with bodies. I was already sweating through my bodice before the first rolls were sold, and by mid afternoon I was more than ready to close up shop and hit the river. But this was one of the busiest days of year, and I had spent the week leading up to it kneading dough until my fingernails were permanently stained the color of flour in preparation.
My growing discomfort was not aided by the fact that I had been up since before dawn baking cookies and pastries that could not weather an overnight wait. Yet I couldn't help but be proud of the baskets and baskets full of delicious goodies... and the two coffers I had already filled with coins from sales.
My most popular item was the cinnamon rolls with sweet icing. Cinnamon was a rarity in this part of the country, and I was an expert at stretching a small amount across numerous pastries without losing the flavor. A trade secret more than one festival goer had tried to finagle out of me.
I had known the pastries would be popular, and had prepped an extra batch to come out of the oven after the initial buzz had died down. Intending to draw in a fresh round of sales with their enticing smell wafting through the streets. I wiped my sweat streaked face with the edge of my apron before pulling out the tray, laying it carefully on the counter to avoid upsetting the batch.
"Oi! How much for them?" Called a voice from the makeshift stall I had set up outside my front window.
I turned, smacking loose some flour from my hands as I made my way over to the open panes. Pleased with my foresight and execution. "2 copper a roll."
The two standing at the stall looked like they were more mulled wine than men at that point, their cheeks ruddy and eyes glazed. The larger one who had spoken rubbed the corner of his mouth with the back of his hand, and I wasn't sure if it was sweat or drool as he smacked his lip.
"Fresh outta coppers." He grimaced, his speech a bit slurred. Then he gave me a lopsided grin. "How bout a kiss instead?"
"Off with yah." I waved him away, as I carried a fresh basket of bread to the stall on one hip.
I nearly shouted as his hand snaked out, snagging round my waist and yanking with an unexpected strength that had me dropping the basket in my surprise.
"Come on, lass!" He slurred, and his mate chuckled, "It's a festival! Have a lil fun!"
I placed two hands on his chest and shoved firmly, but nearly caused us both to topple over for my efforts given his firm entanglement.
"Let go, you oaf!"
"Ay, Martun, she's a thick little thing," His partner teased, "Ye'd have your hands full!"
"That's how I like em!" He grinned. "Thick as dough, twice as fun to knead!"
I had my fingers curled into a fist and my elbow drawn back when a cool, icy voice cut through the heat of the afternoon.
"There a problem here, gentlemen?"
I whipped my head around to assess the new threat, and froze a little in my surprise. Leaning against the post to my stall, a colorfully dressed tiefling stood with his arms crossed over his lithe chest. He was at least a head taller than either of the other men, with soft cinnamon hued skin and long, curly orange hair. I felt my eyes jump to his horns, one broken near the base, the other curling back behind one ear. Despite the heat, he wore a long coat with dazzling stars embroidered on the inside that sparkled in the light as he moved, and he had a colorful silk scarf draped lazily around his neck.
My assailants were slower than I to pay him mind, but quickly changed their tune when they did. The unnamed one shoved Martun's shoulder, blatantly pointing at the tiefling and leaning close to whisper with a hot breath.
"That's the un who was doing magick in the square." He reminded him, and I could smell the wine on his breath from here.
Martun obviously needed no further reminder, dropping his arm from around me and staggering back a step. "No sir, we was just goin."
I barely managed to catch my feet before the two scurried off, and I scoffed. Placing my hands on my hips and turning to eye the tiefling warily. His long tail twitched behind him in an almost bemused manner as I did.
"I had it handled." I chided him.
"Oh, I am certain." He replied with a chuckle, pushing off from his perch to follow me with a long legged, languid stride around to the back of the stall as I stooped to pick up the dropped basket. "Still, I was in the vicinity and thought I might be a suitable buffer, as it was."
He snapped his fingers and I gasped as the bread suddenly bounced off the ground, floating in the air for a moment before neatly settling back into the basket I held before me. I blinked at it, then glanced up at the tiefling over my shoulder.
"... I had it handled."
He smiled wide, and I was suddenly transfixed by the starry depths of his purple eyes, the color filling them from corner to corner. "Allow a magician to show off when he can, yes?" He mused, extending one hand out to me. "Nothing pleases us more."
I took his offered hand after a moment, finding his skin surprisingly cool to the touch despite the hot day, standing slowly. "Well... thank you either way, I suppose. Mister... ?"
He swept into a dramatic bow over my fingers still clasped in his, his free hand even moving to take off an invisible hat.
"Monsieur Cinna of Elspiere, at your service madame." He smiled up at me from his bow, his teeth glimmering with a sharp edge. "I am travelling with the performing troupe. I had scented your wares from across the town, and just had to hunt the delicious smells to origin."
"That'll be the rolls, then." I said a moment later as he finally straightened and released my hand, a bit breathless despite myself. "Fresh out of the oven. 2 copper a piece."
"2 copper?" He echoed, and his honeyed lilt had my heart skipping a little. He offered me another charming smile. "They are worth 2 silver at least if my nose doth not deceive me. 2 gold would be well worth it, I am certain!"
I couldn't help a tiny smile, placing the basket of bread on the stall next to the others. "It's a small festival," I reminded him, "Not many round here carry that kind of coin, and certainly not to be spending on cinnamon rolls from a homely baker."
He gave a dramatic gasp. "I shan't have you lay such insult, madame." He pressed, and his long tail flicked in his coat tails behind him. "Comely, winsome, charming." He flashed me a smile. "And if I'm right, quite skilled."
"Off with yah." I scoffed, pretending my cheeks hadn't flushed even more at the praise. I cocked my head to one side. "Since you're so put, 2 silvers a roll, yeah?"
His laughter rang like bells, and it left my heart skipping again and my smile growing.
"I'd be a thief to take them at the price!" He assured me, leaning on one long fingered hand he rested on the stall and bringing his other up to show me it was empty. Then with a flick of his wrist and a snap of his fingers, suddenly a pouch appeared in his hand. "But I'd take the lot, if it pleases you."
I stared at the heavy purse he placed in my palm with wonder. Glancing up at him through my lashes and swallowing a hot lump in my throat.
"This'll disappear come the morning?" I guessed with a teasing edge. Then faltered, worrying I would insult him. But he merely laughed.
"A slight of hand is all, madame." He assured me again. "The coins within are very real... Though alas, I must confess other motives than just your wares, now that I have laid eyes upon you."
"Oh?" I nearly squeaked, then cleared my throat softly.
His smile grew by a few molars. "Perhaps I might see you later? After your stall is closed, that is." He flashed me another winning smile. "I'd like to treat you to a cool drink, or an evening stroll if you are interested?"
"Oh aye," I laughed, turning to gather the cinnamon rolls to hide the way his invitation made my knees knock together, "And you'll disappear come morning too, I reckon."
Cinna smiled, taking the offered parcel and making a point to brush my fingers as he did. The chill of his skin refreshing but leaving goosebumps zipping across my skin. Then he leaned forward with a soft husky voice.
"Only if I fail to impress, madame." He murmured. "I know one or two slight of hands you might enjoy, if you'd be willing to indulge me your company."
"Oh?" I breathed belatedly, blinking at the dazzling color of his eyes again.
"My troupe always has need of skilled hands," He offered, "We could use a baker to round out our bellies." He cocked his head to the side and his orange curls bounced about his face. "Though I'll be here at least a week first to better tempt you, yes?"
I finally drew my hands back, brushing them across my apron and clearing my throat. My eyes darting about as I tried to figure how to better fit my tongue in my mouth.
"There's a swimming hole nearby," I blurted, then felt even hotter at the collar than the midday sun, "... If you'd like. Later."
His smile lit up his violet eyes and had joy sparkling across every inch of his face.
"I look forward to it."
