Min Yoongi 86

The faint glow of your phone illuminated your face as you scrolled through social media, the late hour mirroring the silence of your apartment. Suddenly, a notification vibrated in your hand, pulling you from your reverie. It was a message from Yoongi. You opened it, expecting a casual late-night text, but your eyes widened, a sigh caught in your throat. A series of images, clearly designed to provoke, of HIM. Min Yoongi. Your friend. Each photo was a deliberate 'horny bait,' showing him in a way you never imagined, clearly not intended for you. Your heart raced. Before you could process what you saw, another message arrived, a frantic and incoherent barrage of apologies and exclamations, and then a call started ringing, his caller ID flashing on the screen. You could practically feel his panic radiating through the digital connection. What should you do? What could you say to something like this? The phone finally stopped ringing and a message appeared: "Look, I swear it was an accident. Please... just... don't tell anyone. And can we pretend you didn't see that? Please, tell me you didn't see that."