mimmiiisposts

[mimmiiisposts]

We Hug Now - kim seungmin

| sypnosis. Two childhood friends reunite in their hometown after years apart. One never left, weighed down by past mistakes and searching for redemption. The other returns as a world-famous K-pop idol, carrying the glitz of fame but also the scars of their shared history. As they reconnect, old memories resurface—both the ones that made them and the ones that broke them—forcing them to confront what they’ve lost, what still lingers, and whether some friendships are meant to be saved.

pairing: kim seungmin x f!reader

content: NOT A HAPPY ENDING, nostalgic, angst, childhood friends, idk what else lmk what i missed

A/N. hi hi guys, this is my first story so please be nice !! i hope you all like it as much as i enjoyed writing it 🩷 This is HEAVILY based on the song, “We hug now” by Sydney Rose. I highly recommend listening to it while reading, it will make it so much sadder 😏 please please please, if you have any suggestions or some ideas or anything that could help me be better please let me know . this is my first story and i want to continue this as best i can. THANK YOUUUU !!!

You don’t see stars here, they’re just city lights.

She never left the city.

Some people would say she couldn’t. Some would say she didn’t try.

But the truth is, she stayed because she thought one day he might come back.

I think back to where you live and how you can see the entire sky.

She sat on the rooftop of her tiny apartment, knees pulled to her chest, the hum of the city wrapping around her like a dull blanket. She tilted her head back, but the sky here didn’t look like the one she remembered.

There were no stars.

Just streetlights, neon signs, the faint glow of traffic stretching out like an endless maze.

It was strange, the way she still thought of him.

Even now, with so much time wedged between them, She had a way of slipping into her quiet moments. Like a song she couldn’t forget the lyrics to. Like the breeze on the pier when summer was just beginning.

“There aren’t any stars here,” she whispered to loud enough for him to hear, picking at the loose thread on her sleeve. “They’re just city lights pretending.”

She used to tell him that. Back when she stayed up too late, waiting for his texts, or when he came to her at midnight just to sit in the balcony and laugh.

She thought about the town he lived in now. The places he traveled, the skies he must have seen—clear, wide, heavy with stars. Places where the moon probably looked close enough to touch.

Here, the moon was rare.

Here, she only caught it sometimes. When she wasn’t rushing home from work, when the smog didn’t swallow it whole. And every time she saw it, she thought of him.

Not the version of him on billboards. Not the perfect, polished idol who smiled for flashing cameras.

She thought of the boy who used to climb trees with her. The boy who used to swear that he’d take her with him wherever he went.

It was dumb, maybe, but part of her still believed him. Over everything that happened, over all the whispers and unkept promises. She believed him.

Y/n traced circles on her knee with her fingertip, staring at the sky that didn’t sparkle.

It’s occasional, sometimes, I’ll see the moon and I’ll think of you.

And tonight, the moon was out.

My mom will convince me, and i’ll get the courage to ask.

Y/n sat at the kitchen table, absently stirring the soup she wasn’t really eating. The news buzzed faintly in the background, but her mom’s voice cut through the room with that usual softness that somehow still sounded like a nudge.

“Y/n-ahh,” her mom said, folding a dish towel and tossing it over her shoulder. “Did you hear? Seungmin’s coming here.”

Her hand paused over the bowl. “What?”

“His group. They’re doing a world tour, right? The posters are all over the subway. They’re stopping here next weekend.”

She tried to play it off, but the heat was already creeping up her neck.

“Oh. Yeah, I guess I saw that.”

Her mom watched her carefully, the way moms do when they already know the answer to the question they’re about to ask.

“You two used to be so close,” she said, sitting across from her. “You haven’t talked to him since… then, have you?”

Y/n shrugged, eyes down. “Yea, It’s been a while.”

“That boy loved you like no other. You should see him while he’s here.”

“I don’t think he has time for me, Mom. He’s… he’s different now. Busy. Famous.” Her voice cracked just enough to give her away.

Her mom’s eyes softened. “People don’t just stop caring because life changes, Y/n.”

She wanted to believe that. She really did.

“I don’t know,” she mumbled. “What would I even say?”

Her mom smiled, standing and gently ruffling her hair like she used to when she was little. “You’d say what’s in your heart. You always were terrible at pretending you didn’t care.”

Y/n’s lips tugged into a weak smile. “You think I should text him?”

“I think you already want to.” Her mom winked. “But if you need me to convince you, then—yes. Call him. Text him. Write him a letter, even. Just don’t spend the rest of your life wondering.”

She stared at her phone as her mom walked away to start the laundry.

Her thumb hovered over his contact for a long time. Her heart beat like she was a teenager again.

Maybe I will. Maybe I can.

She heard her mom’s voice from the other room. “You’re braver than you think, Y/n-ah.”

Finally, with a shaky breath, she typed:

“Hey, I heard you’re coming here soon. Maybe we could catch up?”

And then she hit send.

We will get coffee in Canton and you’ll nervously laugh. When we hug ‘cause we don’t hug, we never used to do that. 

Y/n almost turned around three times on the way to the café.

Her hands wouldn’t stop sweating, and her heart wouldn’t stop lying to her—telling her she was seventeen again, telling her this would be easy.

But it wasn’t.

When she walked in, she saw him instantly.

Seungmin.

No—Min.

Because no matter how many stage names the world gave him, to her, he was always just Min.

He hadn’t changed much. His hair was a little shorter, his jaw sharper, his clothes expensive in that effortless way now. But his eyes? His eyes were the same. Soft and knowing. Familiar. The kind that used to smile at her before his mouth ever did.

He looked up when she approached, they hug. And for a second, just a second, she thought maybe the years hadn’t touched them at all.

“Hey,” he said, his voice low and calm.

Like he wasn’t angry. Like he didn’t remember.

Like he hadn’t spent years waiting for words she never gave him.

“Hey,” she echoed, forcing a small smile as she sat across from him.

There was a long silence where they both just stared at their drinks. He tapped his cup. She picked at the sleeve of her sweater. The whole time, Y/n’s chest screamed say it—but her mouth refused to move.

Instead, she asked, “How’s the tour?”

“It’s good,” he said, like they were strangers catching up, like they hadn’t left something bleeding between them. “Exhausting. You know how it is.”

“You always liked being busy.”

“Yeah.” He glanced at her. “And you always liked avoiding things.”

Her breath hitched, but she covered it with a sip of her drink.

He didn’t push. He didn’t bring it up.

And she didn’t dare to.

Instead, they talked about safe things. Music. Their old teachers. The food they missed from home. She laughed a little too hard at a joke he made about the local convenience store. He smiled like he almost believed she was really okay.

But underneath all of it, the real conversation stayed locked in both of their throats.

The apology she owed him.

The reason he left without saying goodbye.

The thing she did that broke everything.

Y/b wondered if he hated her for pretending nothing happened.

But maybe he hated something else more—the fact that even now, sitting right in front of him, she still looked as beautiful as when he left her.

After a while, he checked his phone and sighed.

“I’ve gotta go to rehearsal,” he said, standing up, brushing crumbs from his jeans.

“Right, yeah,” she nodded quickly. “Of course. You’re busy.”

“But…” He hesitated, chewing his lip like he wasn’t sure if he should. “I’m free tomorrow. If you wanna… meet up again.”

“Yea, i’d like that”, she said with a heavy heart.

sometimes, I go to sleep and I’m still 17. You still live down my street. you’re not mad at me.



She looked at him walking away, heart squeezing painfully because this was just like her dreams.

Where he wasn’t mad at her.

Where they were still seventeen.

Where she told him everything.

Because sometimes she went to sleep and still believed they were kids, still believed he wasn’t mad, still believed she’d find the words to say to him.

and in that dream, I will say everything I wanted. that every day after May, I haven’t found what I needed. No one has come close to you and I don’t think anyone will. 

But ever since that day, she hadn’t.

And as much as she tried to move on, no one had come close to him.

She wasn’t sure anyone ever would.

I have a feeling you got everything you wanted and you’re not wasting time stuck here like me.



By the Pier

Y/n arrived early.

The pier was almost exactly the same as when they were kids—the same creaky wooden boards, the same soft splash of waves brushing against the posts, the same salted breeze pulling at her hair.

It felt like stepping into one of her dreams.

The ones where they were still seventeen.

The ones where nothing broke between them.

But this wasn’t a dream.

And this time, she knew she wouldn’t wake up in a world where things were fixed.

When Seungmin finally showed up, he looked almost shy, like he wasn’t sure if she’d actually be there.

“Hey,” he said, soft, his hands buried deep in his pockets.

“Hey.” She tried to smile but couldn’t quite make it reach her eyes.

For a while, they just walked along the pier, not really talking. The silence between them wasn’t heavy—it was familiar, like it had been there all along, waiting for them to return.

Y/n glanced at him.

He was still the same boy.

Still the same boy who promised forever on this very pier.

But now he was also the boy she let walk away.

And maybe she was the girl he hated for letting him.

“Did you get everything you wanted?” she said suddenly, surprising even herself.

He blinked, looking out at the water. “Not everything.”

“You’re not stuck here, though. You’re not wasting your time in this place like I am.”

“That’s not your fault.” His voice was quiet, but his jaw was tight.

She wanted to believe him. But some part of her thought he didn’t understand—how the moment he left, her world collapsed in on itself, and she never really got out from under it.

“I don’t know if you think it’s a small thing, what happened,” she whispered, biting her lip. “But to me… it was the end of everything.”

His shoulders stiffened. He stopped walking, and she did too.

For a second, it seemed like he was about to say something—like maybe, just maybe, he’d finally ask her why. Why she never told him. Why she let him leave thinking she didn’t care.

But he didn’t ask.

And she didn’t tell him.

Because neither of them were brave enough.

They stood there, eyes glossy but dry, hearts full but aching, still so in love with each other but too afraid to open the door to what could’ve been.

Finally, Seungmin stepped closer.

He didn’t speak. He just wrapped his arms around her and pulled her into him.

And y/n let herself melt into the hug, pressing her face into his shoulder like maybe she could hide from the years that separated them.

This was all they could give each other now.

A hug.

A quiet, desperate hug.

Because they didn’t have the words.

Because maybe the words would’ve ruined it.

Because maybe if they said it out loud, they’d have to admit that they’d already lost.

When they pulled apart, they both smiled like they weren’t breaking.

“I’m glad I saw you,” he said, voice thick.

“Me too.”

He turned to leave, and this time, she let him. She sank into the cool sand, her body heavy with everything she couldn’t say, her eyes glassy with tears she wouldn’t let fall. All she could do was sit there, staring out at the endless ocean, as if the waves might carry him back to her.

And as he disappeared down the pier, she realized the saddest part wasn’t that they didn’t say what needed to be said.

It was that some part of her would always wait here for him, in this same small town, under this same sky that refused to shine.

And he would always live in the places she was too scared to go.

You’re just thinking it’s a small thing that happened, the world ended when it happened to me.

hey lovelies, i hope you enjoyed it !!! this took me like a week to make yo, but i hope it’s all worth it. one of these days ill make a part 2 or a continuation with happy ending so that everyone is happy and i dont get murdered 😭 okayyy that’s it bye byeeee !!!