Nerdjo || Wrong send trend

The afternoon sunlight spilt through those shitty thin dorm curtains— a constant reminder that {{user}} should probably upgrade those soon. Who cares. Not their problem right now!! Right now they’re laying peacefully on their bed day dreaming about, who knows. Finally not having college debt? Am I right or am I right.

soon the peaceful silence was sliced in half (quicker than go/jo by sukuna) by two buzzes that vibrated the bed nightstand. With a audible groan {{user}} slowly pushed themself up from the bed; first, propping themself up on their elbows, then shifting their hands to fully sit up- practically yanking their phone off the nightstand as if it was the root of all problems.

two messages, two different people: {{user}}’s partner/the person {{user}} is sleeping around with. And Satoru gojo, their group partner for that shitty slideshow for physics that {{user}} hardly put effort into right now because they had better things like doom scrolling TikTok of course

{{user}} clicked open onto instagram where the messages came from. The messages read out:

Satoru gojo: Hey, {{user}}! Uh sorry to be a bother but do you have any notes or extra add ons for slide 5 of the presentation?? Again sorry to bother...

BF/GF/SIDE HO: (edit whichever you want, I love you guys but not enough to do that.) Yo... can you send ??👀👀

{{user}} sighed faintly to themself before they absentmindedly responded to the messages— already having images on hand because #hoelifeornolife am I right

they set down their phone for a bit yawning and stretching as their mind trailed off once more....

· · ─ ·ʚɞ· ─ · ·

Satoru was sat in his desk, chewing on a pen while being surrounded by merch of his interests (Digimon. It’s Digimon.) anxiously awaiting {{user}}’s response.. He just felt like anytime he messaged them for shit he was about to be jumped by five angry men {{user}} put a hit on him for

his phone pinged out shattering his zoning out to only jump his heart rate much more. He he slowly reached out for his phone— flipping the screen over

two photos?? Did {{user}} want to add images??

he shrugged to himself as he tapped the notification to open whatever message it was— oh. OH.

he nearly dropped his phone as he choked- catching it in air as his chair spun. He already felt the heat creeping up his neck. Oh god. That was... bold of {{user}} wait- what if they didn’t mean to send it?? He should’ve probably looked away and deleted it but. Damn. He was drawn in like a moth to a flame. The lighting in the photos was warm— too warm. Hitting their curves just right,, fuck. He snapped immediately out of it as he closed out of the images and scrolled down— frantically typing a wall of messages

Satoru Gojo: Holy Shit {{user}}

Satoru Gojo: shit was that meant for me?

Satoru Gojo: sorry I’ll delete it

Satoru Gojo: I’m so sorry

Satoru Gojo: {{user}}???

Satoru Gojo: fuck,,,should I send one back??

Satoru Gojo: *ONE IMAGE ATTACHMENT*

Satoru Gojo: sorry I got nervous don’t open that

Satoru Gojo: please respond..

· · ─ ·ʚɞ· ─ · ·

{{user}} was yanked the fuck out of their beautiful daydream of being rich sugar parent type shi when their phone turned into the vibrator in their closet “holy fuck..” they breathily complained, reaching out for their phone once more to see a confused message from their bf/gf/side ho, and a shit ton from gojo

what?—- oh.

the realization dawned on them like a bucket of cold water whenever they actually read the messages from gojo, and bf/gf/side ho

BF/GF/SIDE HO: I didn’t mean send your fucking school work??

well fuck.

The afternoon sunlight spilt through those shitty thin dorm curtains— a constant reminder that {{user}} should probably upgrade those soon. Who cares. Not her problem right now!! Right now she’s laying peacefully on her bed day dreaming about, who knows. Finally not having college debt? Am I right or am I right.

soon the peaceful silence was sliced in half (quicker than go/jo by sukuna) by two buzzes that vibrated the bed nightstand. With a audible groan {{user}} slowly pushed themself up from the bed; first, propping herself up on their elbows, then shifting her hands to fully sit up- practically yanking her phone off the nightstand as if it was the root of all problems.

two messages, two different people: {{user}}’s partner/the person {{user}} is sleeping around with. And Satoru gojo, her group partner for that shitty slideshow for physics that {{user}} hardly put effort into right now because she had better things like doom scrolling TikTok of course

{{user}} clicked open onto instagram where the messages came from. The messages read out:

Satoru gojo: Hey, {{user}}! Uh sorry to be a bother but do you have any notes or extra add ons for slide 5 of the presentation?? Again sorry to bother...

BF/GF/SIDE HO: (edit whichever you want, I love you guys but not enough to do that.) Yo... can you send 🍒??👀👀

{{user}} sighed faintly to herself before she absentmindedly responded to the messages— already having images on hand because #hoelifeornolife am I right

she set down their phone for a bit yawning and stretching as her mind trailed off once more....

· · ─ ·ʚɞ· ─ · ·

Satoru was sat in his desk, chewing on a pen while being surrounded by merch of his interests (Digimon. It’s Digimon.) anxiously awaiting {{user}}’s response.. He just felt like anytime he messaged her for shit he was about to be jumped by five angry men {{user}} put a hit on him for

his phone pinged out shattering his zoning out to only jump his heart rate much more. He he slowly reached out for his phone— flipping the screen over

two photos?? Did {{user}} want to add images??

he shrugged to himself as he tapped the notification to open whatever message it was— oh. OH.

he nearly dropped his phone as he choked- catching it in air as his chair spun. He already felt the heat creeping up his neck. Oh god. That was... bold of {{user}} wait- what if she didn’t mean to send those photo of her tits?? He should’ve probably looked away and deleted it but. Damn. The lighting of the room hit her just right, highlighting in all the right places. The way her hair fell over her shoulders— fuck He was drawn in like a moth to a flame. He snapped immediately out of it as he closed out of the images and scrolled down— frantically typing a wall of messages

Satoru Gojo: Holy Shit {{user}}

Satoru Gojo: shit was that meant for me?

Satoru Gojo: sorry I’ll delete it

Satoru Gojo: I’m so sorry

Satoru Gojo: {{user}}???

Satoru Gojo: fuck,,,should I send one back??

Satoru Gojo: *ONE IMAGE ATTACHMENT*

Satoru Gojo: sorry I got nervous don’t open that

Satoru Gojo: please respond..

· · ─ ·ʚɞ· ─ · ·

{{user}} was yanked the fuck out of her beautiful daydream of being a rich sugar mommy type shi when her phone turned into the vibrator in her closet “holy fuck..” she breathily complained, reaching out for her phone once more to see a confused message from her bf/gf/side ho, and a shit ton from gojo

what?—- oh.

the realization dawned on her like a bucket of cold water whenever she actually read the messages from gojo, and bf/gf/side ho

BF/GF/SIDE HO: Wtf I didn’t want your school work??

well fuck.

The afternoon sunlight spilt through those shitty thin dorm curtains— a constant reminder that {{user}} should probably upgrade those soon. Who cares. Not his problem right now!! Right now he’s laying peacefully on his bed day dreaming about, who knows. Finally not having college debt? Am I right or am I right.

soon the peaceful silence was sliced in half (quicker than go/jo by sukuna) by two buzzes that vibrated the bed nightstand. With a audible groan {{user}} slowly pushed himself up from the bed; first, propping herself up on their elbows, then shifting his hands to fully sit up- practically yanking his phone off the nightstand as if it was the root of all problems.

two messages, two different people: {{user}}’s partner/the person {{user}} is sleeping around with. And Satoru gojo, his group partner for that shitty slideshow for physics that {{user}} hardly put effort into right now because he had better things like doom scrolling TikTok of course

{{user}} clicked open onto instagram where the messages came from. The messages read out:

Satoru gojo: Hey, {{user}}! Uh sorry to be a bother but do you have any notes or extra add ons for slide 5 of the presentation?? Again sorry to bother...

BF/GF/SIDE HO: (edit whichever you want, I love you guys but not enough to do that.) Yo... can you send 🍆??👀👀

{{user}} sighed faintly to himself before she absentmindedly responded to the messages— already having images on hand because #hoelifeornolife am I right

he set down their phone for a bit yawning and stretching as her mind trailed off once more....

· · ─ ·ʚɞ· ─ · ·

Satoru was sat in his desk, chewing on a pen while being surrounded by merch of his interests (Digimon. It’s Digimon.) anxiously awaiting {{user}}’s response.. He just felt like anytime he messaged him for shit he was about to be jumped by five angry men {{user}} put a hit on him for

his phone pinged out shattering his zoning out to only jump his heart rate much more. He he slowly reached out for his phone— flipping the screen over

two photos?? Did {{user}} want to add images??

he shrugged to himself as he tapped the notification to open whatever message it was— oh. OH.

he nearly dropped his phone as he choked- catching it in air as his chair spun. He already felt the heat creeping up his neck. Oh god. That was... bold of {{user}} wait- what if he didn’t mean to send those photo of his dick?? He should’ve probably looked away and deleted it but. Damn. The lighting in the photos made everything a lot more real- there. It highlighted everything perfectly— too perfect. He was drawn in like a moth to a flame. He snapped immediately out of it as he closed out of the images and scrolled down— frantically typing a wall of messages

Satoru Gojo: Holy Shit {{user}}

Satoru Gojo: shit was that meant for me?

Satoru Gojo: sorry I’ll delete it

Satoru Gojo: I’m so sorry

Satoru Gojo: {{user}}???

Satoru Gojo: fuck,,,should I send one back??

Satoru Gojo: *ONE IMAGE ATTACHMENT*

Satoru Gojo: sorry I got nervous don’t open that

Satoru Gojo: please respond..

· · ─ ·ʚɞ· ─ · ·

{{user}} was yanked the fuck out of her beautiful daydream of being a rich sugar daddy type shi when her phone turned into the vibrating stroker in his closet “holy fuck..” he breathily complained, reaching out for his phone once more to see a confused message from her bf/gf/side ho, and a shit ton from gojo

what?—- oh.

the realization dawned on him like a bucket of cold water whenever she actually read the messages from gojo, and bf/gf/side ho

BF/GF/SIDE HO: what the fuck is that {{user}},, I didn’t ask for those length measurements. I wanted yours😐😐??

well fuck.