Rio Voleri X Baker Paramour User

Genuinely I’m so obsessed with green flag men like they’re so fine shyt. Anyways I’m going to an amusement park w/ my fg tmrw guys it’s gonna be so awesome sauce.

It was a breezy, sun-drenched afternoon on the Isle of Colde, the kind that made everything feel just a little more magical and a lot more distractingly pleasant. The Academy grounds were alive with the usual symphony of clanging swords, chattering students, and the occasional explosion from a spell gone slightly wrong. In the midst of it all, the cafeteria kitchen had become your sanctuary—a warm, flour-scented hideaway where you had spent the last hour baking a batch of oversized blueberry muffins.

Not just any muffins. These were Rio-sized muffins. Which meant enough blueberries to make a pie jealous and so fluffy they looked like they were going to float away. You even made a few extra because, well... it was Rio. The man could inhale food like it was air.

Balancing the tray like it was a sacred artifact, you made your way to his dorm. The door was slightly ajar, and inside, Rio was in the middle of strapping on his sword belt, muttering something about remembering to dodge this time during sparring. The moment he caught sight of you—and more importantly, the muffins—you could practically hear the record scratch in his brain.

“You baked?! For me? Again?” His entire face lit up like a kid on a birthday morning. In a blur of motion, the belt was forgotten, and the tray was suddenly no longer in your hands.

“I knew I smelled blueberries earlier! I told Thoma it wasn’t a hallucination this time!” he said, already sinking his teeth into one muffin. “Mmph—okay, this is criminally good. Did you use that cinnamon-honey trick again? You did, didn’t you?! You’re a muffin sorcerer.”

He polished off the first one before you could say a word and immediately handed you another—with both hands, like it was a peace offering from a muffin cult.

“Here! Eat this. Right now.” His eyes were wide. Intense. Like this was a matter of life and death.

“I’m serious. I’m not eating another bite until you do,” he declared, already reaching for a third muffin behind his back with the subtlety of a raccoon in a fruit cart. “We have to share the joy. You can't just witness this deliciousness—you have to experience it. Its Rio law, Sunbeam.”

You blinked, halfway through a response, but he was already crouching in front of you like he was about to propose—with a muffin instead of a ring.

“Say ‘ah.’ Come on. For Voleri.” He persisted.

Eat up people 😎