cinnamon buns | song mingi
- pairing: mingi and reader, wooyoung/reader | fluff / angst
- au: baker!mingi, mafia leader! wooyoung (background)
- warnings: lots of food mention
- summary: being a baker was supposed to be a humble life. the day in, day out monotony of creating the same delicious pastries and cakes brought mingi solace. well, that was until his world gets turned upside down by a shy girl with a slight obsession with cinnamon buns.
a/n: the wait is over!!! enjoy this slow burn fanfic and all the twists it’ll take you on. I love you all lots and have a good day!
Life was never supposed to be incredibly ordinary for Song Mingi. He was a man like any other man who had dreams and aspirations. He had a degree in architectural engineering, a family that was very proud of, and a kind heart which did him more harm than good.
So, when his mother had an accident after his graduation he dropped everything and decided to help out with the family business rather than pursuing his life goals. Of course, his parents urged him otherwise but what kind of son would he be if he made his elderly parents look after the family business by themselves when there is clearly a lot going on otherwise.
But you see that’s where our story starts; with a guy working in a bakery who felt like his life had lost meaning. Sure, he knew why he was doing what he was doing, but he couldn’t help but think about what life could have in store for him. He didn’t want to stay working in the bakery for the rest of his life, he wanted to make his parents proud and experience what the world has to offer outside of a small town.
That morning started like every other morning.
Mingi woke up at the crack of dawn, the dregs of sleep still clinging to his eyes, urging him for just five more minutes. The air was icy and blew down the back of his neck, making him tunnel deeper into the warm, welcoming covers.
“Rise and shine,” the muffled voice of his father broke through the comfort in his room, followed closely by a light knocking on the door, “It’s bread-making hour.”
Mingi rolled over in bed, peeling open his eyes and glaring at the offending door. There are certain things that make working at a bakery fun; the constant smell of fresh bread and cakes, the recurring faces you get to learn the stories behind, and the ability to brighten anyone’s day. However, making bread at 6 am is not on that list.
It didn’t take him long to reach an adequate level of consciousness in order to start his day - no thanks to the freezing cold water that greeted him in the shower - and he soon was dressed and joined his father downstairs in the bakery.
Side by side, the two of them began the monotonous task of making pastries and cakes to fill the long row of display cases.
“I haven’t seen Hongjoong around of late, how is he keeping?” his father’s voice broke the amicable silence.
Mingi perked up from his groggy state next to his dad at the sound of his best friend’s name, “He’s doing great actually he’s almost saved up enough to apply for that apprenticeship in London.”
“Ahhh wow,” His dad held a soft smile on his face, “I always knew that boy would go far,” Mingi held a proud feeling in his heart after hearing this. He knew how much his dad meant to Hongjoong; he could practically see the boyish blush that would undoubtedly form when he told him.
He unclipped the bowl of yeasty dough from the mixer and turned it out onto the lightly floured surface in front of him before dusting his hand and beginning to knead the dough.
“And how about your tall friend? The overly happy one, Yoongi isn’t it?”
“Yunho, and he’s doing good, he’s pursuing photography right now in New York, he’s really good actually,” He grabbed a handful of chilled butter cubes and began evenly kneading them into the dough, taking care to ensure they were nicely incorporated all throughout the mixture.
Then he felt the atmosphere shift between himself and his dad, the early warning system every child has built-in for when your parents are about to have ‘a talk’ with you and you can emotionally prepare or try and flee to safety.
Unfortunately, the second wasn’t an option.
He heard his father sigh, a sound that was far too familiar in these situations, “You know son, your mother and I, we’re-”
“Dad, it’s ok, I want to be here. I know I don’t have to, but I want to. It gives me a chance to figure everything out.” He continued to work on the dough in front of him, trying to keep the conversation light and easy. “You don’t worry about me staying because you’re scared that I feel obligated to. I know you and mum could always hire somebody else but … No one makes chocolate chip cookies the way I do, and you’d be losing your best team member.” His dad laughed, the tense atmosphere slowly faded away into something more tolerable.
The early morning prep was always the same every single morning, so there was an art of slipping into autopilot to it, in order to not go crazy from making flavour after flavour of cookies and cupcakes, or the inhumane loads of bread. The shelves had to be overflowing, ‘there can never be too much’ his mum would always remind him.
Around 7 am his dad would always head back upstairs to make them all breakfast while Mingi would clean the shop and get their coffee machines ready for the early morning zombie hoard that he was used to.
With music gently through the bakery work became easier, he danced around like a crazy person to the upbeat songs and sang at the top of his lungs, it was therapeutic to be alive this early. He enjoyed being the only person around at such an hour, not awake but around.
After breakfast, Mingi went downstairs to add the last-minute touches to the storefront. He straightened out the chairs and tables, wiped down all the surfaces, and turned on the tv to a music channel to brighten up the atmosphere in the store. Then they opened the shop up and let in the early morning customers.
“Good morning Mrs Lee what can I get you anything special today? Or would you like your usual?”
The normally grumpy lady had a soft spot for him and her motherly face beamed up at him as she requested, “Half a loaf of bread, four choco-chip cookies, two cinnamon buns and a kiss on the cheek for your favourite customer,”
He laughed and start packing up her order, “ Every morning Mrs Lee, and every morning I have to reject you,”
She sighed in faux drama, “ I won’t give up on this cat and mouse chase we have going on, you mark my words, mister,”
“I wouldn’t have it any other way,”
The total never came above £10, but she would always give him £12 and tell them to keep all the change for his ‘life ambition fund’. And it never failed to make him smile.
The morning rush came and left in a blur of coffee orders and crumbling pastries. It was hectic, but his dad stayed downstairs with him to help with orders whenever the store would turn into a drowning sea of grumbling office workers and impatient PTA mums. But with blue skies and a lingering warm summers breeze in the air, it was almost guaranteed to be busy.
It wasn’t until he had a quiet moment in the store that he realised just how late it was getting and how little produce they had left for the day. Mingi went to the back of the bakery to check if there were any extra cookies or pastries that he could restock the display case with, when the front door chimed. “Be out in one second, have a browse and see what you’d like,” He shouted behind him while filling a tray with the last of the brownies and cookies they made that morning.
He carefully carried the tray back through the shop, humming along to the quiet music that was coming from the tv that was out on the shop floor. He paused in his tracks and stared at the new patron quizzically.
She was stood by the counter, intensely examining every single baked good that they had to offer. Her eyebrows were drawn together in a deep and contemplative look that could only come from somebody who took their baked goods very seriously. But that’s not what caught his attention. Her thick knitted sweater is what made him do a double-take.
It was a blistering summers day out and this girl was dressed for a light snow. And somehow, she looked content to be basically boiling alive.
"Busy day huh? You’ve barely got anything left,” her voice had an accent to it that he didn’t hear often, especially not in person, and that added to her mystery.
He pried his feet up from the tiles they seemed to be stuck to and began restocking the display cases, “Summertime madness, people come in for an iced coffee and then they stay for … well, everything else really.” She watched him keenly as he placed more options in front of her, “Was there something you were looking for in particular?”
She hummed in thought and glanced at the different glass display cases and seemingly counting in her head, “ Yes okay, could I have uhh … 20 cinnamon buns and 20 cookies to go, please?”
His jaw dropped and he knew he must have looked like a complete idiot, “That’s a lot of pastry, do you have a small village to feed?” He got out a box and started packing away the remaining cinnamon buns.
She laughed nervously, “Something like that. Just got a big group of friends to feed,”
“Ahh, I get that. My friends would happily demolish this entire store if I left them unattended,”
“I wouldn’t blame them, they look delicious,” He felt a smile play on his lips at her compliment, he always took pride in his work.
“Why thank you. Can I get you anything to drink today?”
Her eyes scanned the menu above his head, her mouth ever so slightly agape as she scanned for a drink that suited her.
“Umm, an iced caramel macchiato please,”
This eased his nerves a little, at least she wasn’t ordering a hot beverage in the middle of a heatwave. “Coming right up!”
They let the music from the tv fill the silence between them, and he thought he could faintly hear her humming from her side of the counter while he worked away. He wouldn’t pretend that he wasn’t stealing glances at her while he made her drink, or that he didn’t almost drop the bottle of caramel sauce when he saw her smiling softly at her phone screen. Which in turn made her look up at him at while trying not to laugh, which may or may not have made Mingi wish the floor would swallow him up whole.
He held on to his last strands of self-preservation and finished up her order, doing his best not to fumble over the cash she handed him and the change he almost dropped in return. He’d blame it on a long day of being overworked and under-rested.
“I hope you enjoy them,” he gestured to the paper bag he’d placed all the goods in.
She smiled at him, “I’m sure they’ll love them.”
He watched her leave and noticed the way she gently swung the paper bag in her hand as she exited the store. She briefly paused in the doorway, her foot hesitating to leave the store as if she saw something foreboding outside. She turned back at him, “Have a nice day,” her voice was light and airy but the smile that was etched on her face didn’t quite reach her eyes.
He saw her wave to someone before walking quickly to meet them.
Mingi couldn’t help but think about her for the rest of the night as he packed up the store.
Why was she wearing such a thick sweater in the middle of summer?
How did someone from out of town happen across his little bakery, tucked away in the middle of nowhere?
His mum’s voice broke his out of his stupor, “Mingi, make sure to make extra tomorrow,”
He nodded, knowing what his mum would say, “I will Ma,”
“We always take the extras to the homeless shelters on Wednesdays,”
She ignored him like she did every week, “We haven’t missed a drop off in fifteen years,”
He mouthed along to his mum’s predictable words and smiled. She headed back upstairs and told him dinner was ready.
He finished cleaning and locked up the shop.
a/n: hello my lovelies, this fic really is going to be a slowburn so strap yourselves in. it’ll begin to pick up pace soon but for now, enjoy the ride!! Comments and feedback are always welcomed!!
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