#fictalk: lmly drabble

[ktownshizzle]

Hi K! I’m excited for the Let Me Love You! 💿 I’ll be out of the country when you post but will be sure to catch up when I get back.

Hello, my lovely! Yes yes yes! It finally has a drop date.

Hope you enjoy it when it comes out 🙏🏼 Safe travels!

[ktownshizzle]

Hey gurl hey! It’s 💿 millennial . I’ve been eating up L&L. That’s been my fav so far. You’ve been “ giving” in all the fics though so thank you for your service. My bestie recommended you to me. We share a love for BTS and fan fics.

Just wanted to share that Mario did a cover of Standing Next To You on Masked Singer ! So crazy but thought of you and can’t wait for the fic. It’s all over my IG And Tik tok . Not sure if the latter has been banned in your location but look for it! I gasped when I found out it was him and not NeYo! Even better !

Hi, 💿 Anon!!! Was wondering where you’ve been…

Omg, that warms my heart! I am so glad your bestie recommended my stories to you 💓 I have been getting so much love on L&L, thank you for that!

I need to see the Mario video soon. For now, here’s a preview for you:

Let Me Love You Drabble | Preview

Pairing: Musician/Neighbor Min Yoongi x female reader

TW: Reader is in an abusive relationship :c

Yoongi knows too much about sounds. His ears, blessed and cursed with perfect pitch, pick up every tone, every noise in maddening detail. It’s a gift in his line of work—a necessary tool for composing, producing, creating worlds with music. But outside his studio, it’s something else entirely.

Lately, his perfect pitch has brought him a burden he doesn’t know how to carry.

A-flat—the sound of a chair knocked over.

From your apartment next door, the sounds are impossible to ignore. Muffled arguments, the dull thud of things he can’t see but can almost picture. Sometimes, it’s silent, the kind of silence that feels thicker than any noise.

D-minor—the tone of a door slamming shut.

At first, he only sees you in passing—a quiet figure, polite and reserved, with faint shadows under your eyes. But with time, he hears more. Small fragments that give him a rough picture of your life and the weight you carry.

Then, one morning, he notices a small package by his door, addressed to you. Yoongi picks it up, fingers brushing over your name.

When he knocks on your door, he expects the usual brief exchange. Instead, you open it, looking surprised but offering a shy smile.

“Oh—this was for me?”

“Guess the delivery guy had other plans,” he replies, holding it out. You take it, fingers brushing his, and he can’t help but notice the faint bruise near your wrist. He keeps his expression neutral, meeting your eyes with a soft, “Just wanted to make sure you got it.”

You nod, an apology flashing across your face. “Thank you… Min Yoongi, right?”

He gives a small smile, surprised you remember his name. “That’s me. Take care, alright?”

Walking back to his apartment, he keeps replaying the look in your eyes. It lingers with him, catching his attention in a way that feels strangely significant. He tells himself it’s nothing, just a neighborly exchange. But even hours later, he can’t get the moment out of his head. Your expression—so small, so hesitant—feels like an echo that won’t fade, like a chord struck just slightly out of tune, lingering long after the note has passed. And for reasons he can’t name, you stay on his mind.