beautifulmindset111

Latest Posts by beautifulmindset111

. ۪ ֗ “ 𝑁𝑜—𝐺𝑒𝑡 𝑇ℎ𝑎𝑡 𝑂𝑛𝑒 ”⋆˚🫧

PART 2 • [this fic has been split into two parts]

21k! CONTENT WARNING (MDNI) • phone s*x (mutual m*sturbation), edg*ng, unprotected s*x, p -> v s*x, b*ckshots, squ*rting, choking, c*rvix kissing, rough consensual s*x, dominating male character, possessive behavior/talk, dummification, foot f*tish, minor size k*nk, tummy bulge, heavy use of dirty talk, use of profanity, nicknames (Mami, Mama, Papa, Pa), use of the n-word (all characters & Author are Black) • INSPIRED BY THIS POST • CHARACTER VISUALZ

PART 1 HERE ->

DRAGGING A HEAVY HAND DOWN HIS FACE, Sito releases a long-held sigh.

Parked up outside of the auto body shop, he sits in his car with heavy eyes. His cousin is still inside, in a screaming-match with the mechanic about a change in the previously discussed price.

He could only last about two minutes before he had to leave the confrontation behind for his peace of mind.

With dead eyes, he stares blankly ahead. The sun has long since went down, leaving the sky a dark blue. He should be in bed right now, laid back, watching Cimani go on and on about some random topic plaguing her mind at the moment.

He hopes she didn’t forget his call. 

He kisses his teeth. “Matter fact … ‘cause I know she forgot—“

His fingers move as he speaks to himself, tapping to get to her contact. 

For a minute, the FaceTime call rings out until ultimately going unanswered. His face twists up at that.

So, with an even worse attitude, he calls again. Because, who does she think she is, ignoring his call? That is not what they do.

His phone rings out for some time. His frustration is growing. Just as he’s sure the call is about to drop, the phone chimes as it’s answered.

It’s quiet for a few seconds as the call connects, then he hears her shifting around in bed.

“Hello?”

He looks at the screen, her camera turned off.

“So you forgot you had to call me?”

“No?”

Her voice is soft and quiet.

“Why your voice sound like that? You sound like you just waking up.”

There’s a long delay before she answers. “M’not…”

“Yeah, aight.” He stares at the screen, eyes narrowing in a squint. “Why am I looking at myself? I FaceTimed you. This ain’t no regular call.”

A soft, sound comes from her end of the call. He’s not even sure he could tell what kind of sound it was.

“I don’t wanna t-turn it on.”

He lifts a brow. “You want me to hang up? I’m bothering you or something?”

A short breath leaves her. “You’re n-not bothering me.”

“So turn your camera on.”

“Sito—“

“Yo, quit acting like this before I hang up. Forreal, ‘Mani. You sure you not just waking up?”

“Oh my God … I’m not.” There’s some shifting going on, picked up by the mic. It’s about a minute before her camera finally turns on.

Sito finally sees her in her bonneted-glory. And she’s as barefaced as ever, noting in particular how low her eyes are. 

“What day you booked the lash appointment for?”

“Um… “ Her eyes flutter as she pulls her bottom lip in between her teeth. She exhales. “S-Saturday.” There’s a tiny inflection in her voice.

He expects her to go on a tangent about the style of lashes she’s getting, even complain about how long it takes to get them done—the usual whenever she was about to get them done.

But, his expectations are subverted with her short answer and lack of an explanation.

“Okay?” He says, brows pulled together in confusion. “How much is it?”

“Mh—I don’t … I-I think $120?”

“You think? What you stuttering so much for?”

“M-m’not,” she—whines? Not only that, but her eyes almost kind of … roll?

What’s going on?

“You good?” He asks, more confused than concerned.

“Yes … J-just … tell me about your—um … your errands.” The last few words were breathed out in a rush, like she couldn’t hold them in anymore.

He kissed his teeth, his gaze switching to somewhere out of the window. “Haircut was cool, not much to complain about. Y’know, Ray did his thing,” he smiles. 

But his smile is quickly wiped away by the reminder of his current predicament. “But, Jahmere in there, arguing with the fucking mechanic about the price.”

“Mhm…”

“I’m tryna get the fuck outta here. Granted … the nigga is overcharging him, I’m not even gon’ lie. Like, I’m telling you, ‘Mani, he charged him odee for some crazy ass shit—“

His brows pull together as her breathing grows heavier—louder—in the mic. He has to do a double-take. Nevertheless, he continues with his story.

“Uh, they been screaming in there for about a hour now. I wasn’t even tryna hear all that, forreal. So,” he rubs a hand down his face. “I came in here—“

“Hh—mhm.”

He blinks. Slowly, Sito turns his head to finally look at the screen. Cimani is nowhere in sight. Instead, he’s staring up at her dark ceiling.

He expects a quick apology, an explanation—even a small joke from her about the oddness of her breathing. Yet, for the next few seconds it’s nothing but silence.

That is, until he hears it. 

It’s so quiet, it’s really a miracle that the microphone even picked it up; tiny splishes of water growing, almost drowning out the soft squishes of wet, slippery skin.

He angles his phone away from his face, just so she won’t catch it when he hides his mouth with a closed fist. Because there’s no way…

He presses his lips together, trying to keep a grin at bay. His call had definitely interrupted something.

Slowly, he inhales, trying to settle himself. “So, uh … you sure I’m not bothering you?”

Her exhale is loud, he can tell she had breathed out through her mouth. “Hhm—no.”

“I’m not?”

“No, Sito.”

The frail tremble in her voice does something to him. He inhales deeply.

“Aight, I’ma trust you… When you get your lashes done, get that wispy shit. That’s what you had last time, right?”

“Y-yes—“

A whimper hits his ears. 

“Aight, I’ma send you the money.” He licks his lips, looking at the still screen. It takes him less than a minute to send the Apple Cash. “You got it?”

“I-I don’t know.” Her voice is soft, almost whiny.

“Just check,” he begs softly.

She whispers something, but he doesn’t hear it too well. What he does hear is a slopping sound, and he can imagine her fingers, decorated with acrylic, pushing through the mess she’s created. Running through her lips to rub at her sensitive clit.

There’s a soft mewl this time.

“O-okay,” she pants. The camera is jostled around before he finally sees a peek of her bonnet again. “I got it.” Her voice wavered. “Thank you, Sito.”

He bites at his bottom lip, trying to stop himself from grinning any harder.

“You good, Mami.”

Another whimper. He can tell that she’s trying to keep quiet.

“You know you deserve it.”

Again, he hears what she tries so hard to hide: Plap, plap, plap. Like she had just laid three, hard slaps on her pussy.

He swallows, instantly reminded of the dryness in his own throat. There’s a hidden desire for a taste of something wetter. His heart is pounding in his chest.

“Lemme see your nails.”

“S-Sito—“

“Nah, you didn’t even show me when you got back in the car. Lemme see.”

It’s quiet on the other line for a few seconds. There’s no movement.

“Cimani.”

No answer.

He kisses his teeth. “Quit making me ask so many times.”

“Shit … h-hold on—“

There’s some fumbling with the phone before it’s finally picked up. Apprehensive, she lifts a hand to the camera, showing off her brand new nails. 

And as Sito looks at the deep blue acrylics, he notes how shiny they look. 

Glistening, even. 

Wet.

He can’t help the sick chuckle that leaves him. “Oh my fucking God,” he mumbles into his hand.

“D-do you see you it?”

He licks his lips, enjoying too much the desperation in her voice. “Yeah… I like ‘em.”

The hand disappears shortly after, and the screen goes dark.  It’s quiet once again. Well … almost quiet.

That soft, creamy sound is picked up by the mic again. He can tell her hand is moving slow. Probably rubbing slow circles against her clit.

“You like them?”

“M-mhm … yeah.”

“Knew you would.” He rubs the knuckle of his thumb into his lower lip as he eyes the screen. “Should’a just listened to me when I first told you to get ‘em.”

He wishes she would show him something. Even if it’s just her face.

“But that’s just you being a brat.”

He can hear her breathing pick up. Another minute of silence passes by.

“Your hair.”

“What about it, Mami?”

The broken sound that leaves her makes his dick jump.

“Wanna s-see it.”

Without another word, he clicks on the light for her to see. In the camera, he bows his head to show off the fresh line up.

“It’s good, right?”

“Mhm.”

It’s quiet for a moment, and that creamy sound seems to get a fraction louder.

“L-looks so good, Pa.”

Her words were a soft moan. He knows she didn’t mean for that to slip. She’s caught up in the moment.

And he doesn’t mind one bit, as he’s got a hand gripping on his dick. A quick glance out of the car window ensures him that there isn’t a soul outside to catch him. It’s not like they would see him anyway, not with his tints.

He sits up in his seat, gripping his phone a bit tighter.

“That’s my name now?”

Her breathing is heavy, even if she tries to hide it. “Fuck … s-sorry—“

“Are you?”

No answer.

Softly, he kisses his teeth with the shake of his head. “Stop playing, ‘Mani.”

“W-what?”

“Stop playing with me, Cimani.” 

She’s quiet again.

“Answered my phone call while you playing with your pussy.”

He swears he hears a tiny gasp.

“Least you could do is lemme see it … know it’s mine, anyway.”

“Sito—“

“It was just Pa. What happened?”

She doesn’t say anything.

“Don’t get shy on me. You was just playing with her, all loud in the mic,” he chuckles. “Shit was cute, though, I’ll give you that.” 

He doesn’t have a hand in his pants yet, but he’s about two seconds away from doing so. “Put her on camera.”

There’s a bit of shuffling, but it only takes a couple of seconds before he sees her: puffy lips taking up his screen. Freshly done fingers spread her open for him to see pretty, gummy pink walls squeezing in on themselves. 

Her cunt dribbles a cloudy, sticky sap.

He shifts in his seat, feeling on himself through his pants. “She always pretty like this?”

She only moans in response. Her clit jumps with another clench.

“Them long ass nails, bet you can’t even play with her right.”

There’s a whimper. “I can’t,“ she whines.

Finally, Sito unzips his jeans, slowly slipping a hand underneath his boxers. “Lemme see how you been playing with her.”

Her middle finger dips into her honey pot, swiping up a dabble of her pearlescent goo. It’s sticky, stringing between the opening of her lips and the pad of her finger.

As he watches, he runs his hand down his length before holding himself at the head.

“She drooling, baby.”

He sees her other hand pulling a leg back. Hand between her legs, her fingers pull together. This resume a gentle flow as they rub against her clit.

Which is so small. In fact, by the looks of it, she can really cover her whole pussy with just a hand. And as far as he remembers, Cimani’s hands aren’t big at all.

He almost coos, watching her work her little cunt until it sputters out a release from overstimulation.

His hand tightens around his dick as the thought of him stretching her out plays in his mind.

“Couldn’t wait to mess up them nails, huh?” he asks. “Them nails I just paid for.”

“I’m sorry—“

“Nah, you cool, baby. It’s cool. Lemme see how you did ya toes.”

He swipes his tongue over his plump bottom lip just as he passes his fist over himself.

The camera is pushed further back, probably leaned up against the bulk of her sheets. It happens so fast, it’s like he blinks and she’s back in the screen—legs pulled back and spread once more. 

And just above, on either side of her, her toes are curled rather cutely. The fresh acrylic on them is shaped in perfect squares, every last one of them a gentle pink.

“Fuck,” he whispers, twisting a hand over himself as more blood rushes south.

“W-what else, Pa?”

Oh, that got him. Something about that soft voice and her asking him—he’s high off of this fantasy-come-to-life.

“Keep playing with her,” he says, voice ragged.

She listens, no questions asked. As her fingers swipe back and forth over the swollen bud, pushing through puffy lips, he tries his best to mimick the pace at which she goes, on himself.

“You so pretty, Mami. How many times I gotta tell you that?”

The question is rhetorical, his mouth just running as his body breaks down.

His shoulder twitches, he sinks further in his seat. “Pretty ass lil’ pussy.”

With low eyes, he watches her cunt clamp around nothing every few seconds the longer she goes. Her hips twitch as they begin to roll against the air.

“Bet you if was there, I could give her what she really need.”

“Please,” she whines.

“She deserves some good ass dick, don’t she?”

As her fingers flick over herself faster, his hand, too, speeds up.

“Y-yes—“

“How long it’s been? Hm?”

“I … f-fuck—too long,” she hiccups.

Another broken moan falls from her right as her hand freezes. She’s still for a second, before she lays two quick slaps to her clit.

Soft white globs ooze from her, slipping down the terrain of her lips to the stained sheets below.

“U-uh … ffuck!”

She reaches down to scoop up some of her release, spreading it over herself.

Her lips shine like they’ve been glossed, a tantalizing view.

“Keep going for me,” he mumbles, still working himself.

Despite crying out at the overstimulation, she continues. She just keeps rubbing and rubbing.

“Oh, God,” she mewls. Her pussy clenches tighter. “Mh—Sito,” she warns.

“That ain’t my name.”

“I … I—“

She flutters twice, pink walls pushing out for him to see. Then, crystal clear water trickles from her pussy like a water fountain. Her stream gains a bit of height, even hitting the camera as her body bears down.

He can hear the cushioned pattering of her release against the sheets, like rain hitting a roof.

“Shiiit…” He watches in awe. “She get wet like that?” 

A soft, broken moan leaves her as she rides out her high, still rubbing her abused clit until the stream dies down.

When she’s finally done, her soft pants are all picked up by the mic.

“Fuck,” he groans out, a lazy smile on his lips. He’s still got a hand on his dick, having stopped to focus on her.

A gentle silence settles over the call. He looks at the screen. For a moment, everything is still. 

She’s so quiet, he starts to question their connection.

“Yo, ‘Mani,” he calls out.

No answer.

As he opens his mouth to call her again, a soft chime sounds.

She hung up.

Dick in hand, Sito feels like a clown as his face morphs into an expression of confused irritation.

“The fuck?”

ᥫ᭡

HER HEAD REMAINS DOWN as the pads of her middle and pointer fingers press into her temple. There’s a faint pulse there.

As her other hand cradles the cup of tea she prepared for herself, she struggles to even lift the cup to her lips. 

If it isn’t one thing, it’s the next. Last night’s phone call plays over and over in her mind—the second-hand embarrassment paralyzing.

How, in her right mind, could she ever think to do that?

Yeah, he’d caught her at a bad time, but she could’ve hung up. He even asked. 

Why couldn’t she just call him back? What about that felt so thrilling to her that she just had to continue?

He enjoyed it, she’s not stupid enough to ignore that part or even pretend to be oblivious to it. 

Actually, it’s not even all that hard to see that where they stand is as a little more than just friends.

But she hadn’t wanted that to change. Not so soon. Not with everything so unsure in her life right now.

Can she even handle a relationship with Sito? She knows she likes him, the crush has been there for a long time. Hovering in the near-distance. 

Does he feel the same way, is the question.

As she thinks back on how seamlessly he switched up last night, pulling out the dirty talk with no hesitation, it makes her wonder: is this just lust for him?

How seriously does he take her?

Cimani’s never been one to think of Sito as a slut. In fact, the only reason she’ll ever know of a girl he’s talking to or hooking up with is by accident (or snooping). He doesn’t discuss his sexual or romantic life with her, not since high school, honestly.

She can respect that about him, not being a pillow-talker. At the same time, though, Sito doesn’t ever really talk about much that doesn’t pertain to what’s between them.

Even if she can say that she’s known him for years, she doesn’t know everything about Sito. The vagueness scares her.

A heavy sighs leaves her as she finally raises the cup to her lips. The taste of lemon barely touches her tongue when there’s a knock at her door. She freezes up, staring at the door with widened eyes.

She’s not expecting anyone, she never really does.

More knocking.

Carefully, she sets down her cup. On her way to the door, the knocks grow hastened. When she gets close enough, she even hears the faint sound of one kissing their teeth.

The word “fuck” is mouthed quietly.

“Don’t act like you not there. You know we still share locations.”

She throws her head back with a silent groan and the roll of her eyes. Regaining composure, Cimani takes a deep breath before finally unlocking her door and pulling it open.

It’s like coming face to face with your worst nightmare and your greatest dream at the same time.

“I was ‘bout to say, I know you not gonna make me start yelling for you out here.”

She blinks, trying to make sense of the visual before her; Sito stands with an arm at his side while the other is curled around a big bouquet of flowers.

Pink peonies—her favorite.

He’s beaming, solid gold fronts cover his top and bottom row of teeth. And at his feet are several brown bags of groceries. She stares at them for a while. 

The nearest Trader Joe’s is twenty minutes away from her apartment.

She looks back up at him, unable to even process the wide grin on his face.

“Took me like three trips to bring all these bags here. Y’know, I didn’t wanna—“ he pulls the bouquet from the crook of his arm, showing them off. “—crush the flowers.”

She blinks again.

His smile dims a fraction as he looks off to the side. “So … you gonna let me in or…”

Her mouth opens, but nothing comes out.

“Okay, ‘Mani—at least take the flowers.” His face falls with possible rejection. “I’ll take the groceries back if you don’t want ‘em—“

“Sito,” she exhales.

He stands at attention, elated to at least hear her voice.

“W-why … what is this?”

His groomed brows furrow.

“What you mean?” He looks around at all the things he’s bought, before finally looking back to her. “I’m just making sure you good.”

•

She helped him unpack in silence—or, the other way around. Neither of them were able to say much. 

When they had packed the final bag away, Cimani immediately sprung to her electric kettle, starting it to make him a cup of tea.

It’s already half-past eleven, but she needs to keep busy. 

She doesn’t even ask him what kind of tea he wants.

No need. She already knows. Black tea with milk, and two tablespoons of sugar.

As she stirs his cup, he watches her from the other side of her small island. Every single movement she makes, he eyes carefully, studying her.

Her skin feels hot under his stare. Clearing her throat, Cimani slowly passes him the cup. She doesn’t look at him.

“You’ll make me tea, but you won’t say nothing to me.” He scoffs. “C’mon, now.”

Finally, she dares to look him in the eyes.

“Are we gonna talk about—“

“I don’t think last night should’ve happened.”

His face alights with shock, brows raised and mouth open. “Oh?”

Inhaling deeply, her eye contact with him falters. “I-I don’t know why I did that. It was—that was wrong, I shouldn’t have even answered the phone.”

The worlds tumble out of her mouth, clumsy and loose.

“And that was weird, I just—I feel like I crossed a line.” Her face contorts in mild discomfort, her body beginning to fold in on itself. “I’m sorry—“

“Hol’on—wait.” A breathy laughter leaves him as he shakes his head. “‘Mani, you making it seem like you just assaulted me or some shit.”

“I technically did.” She frowns.

“I mean—“ He looks around, trying his best to come with a way to word his thoughts properly. “Did I expect that shit? Hell no. Did I enjoy it?” His gaze locks dead center with hers. 

“Sito—“

“Yes.” He even nods for emphasis. “I enjoyed it a lot. Matter fact, only thing I didn’t enjoy was you cutting that call short.”

Her heart skips a beat, but still her frown deepens. “You don’t get it.”

His head jerks back, confusion clear on his face? “Get what, ‘Mani? What else is there to get?” He scoffs. “You wanted to put on a show, and I wanted to watch—“

“Oh my God, shut the fuck up,” she groans, hiding her face in her hands.

She takes yet another deep breath, gathering herself to prepare the worst to come. She already fucked things up this bad, there’s really no going back after this. Not with the kind of person Sito is, he’ll never let this shit go.

“I … I feel like that didn’t mean anything to you.” Her brows pull in together, and she looks as if she confused by her own words. “Like, I get that it was … whatever the fuck it was, but like—ugh!”

His face contorts with hers, trying to follow along with her words.

“I-If you just wanna fuck after this, Sito, that’s not what I want. Okay? I don’t just wanna use you, or you use me, for a quick thing whenever we need to get some pressure off. I’m sorry if I even gave you that impression—“

“Woah, woah, woah. What are you talking about?”

She squints at him. “What do you mean what am I talking about? I think I’m making myself pretty clear.”

“Uh—not really. ‘Cause honestly, you bringing claims to the table I ain’t never even claimed!”

She blinks, her face dropping. “Huh?”

For the first time in a few minutes, he actually cracks a smile. “Don’t ‘huh’ me. You heard what I said.”

Slowly, he rounds the island, forgetting all about the drink she had made him.

“Who the fuck told you I only ever wanted to fuck? I give you that vibe?” He gestures between the two of them, his expression teeters the line between confusion and offense.

“Somebody that just wanna fuck, gon’ get you all that shit I bought? They gon’ buy you groceries a-and get you flowers?” He takes slow steps towards her. “They gonna offer to give you rent money and pay to keep you pretty?”

By the time he chooses to stop, her back is pressed against the countertop. Her only option is to remain there, staring up at the man who only leaves a few inches of space between them.

“Cimani,” he chuckles. “Told you, you just like to hear yourself talk, forreal—I’on know what fucking impression I gave you, but I just wanna see you be put up.”

She can hardly swallow with his admission.

“I’on know how many times I gotta say that. I ain’t tryna see you stressed out for nothing. Not when I know I could make it easier.”

His eyes bounce back and forth between her own. 

“Do I need to explain myself anymore?”

Chewing at her bottom lip, she tries her hardest to wrestle her facial expressions under control. So far, it’s not working, because he can see the inklings of a smile on her face.

She shakes her head ‘no.’

Peering down at her, his gaze is focused and intense. There really isn’t much of a smile on his anymore.

“Now that we finally got that shit out the way, I’m tryna finish what you started.”

•

“That’s it … that’s all I need you to do,” he pants. “Just need you to take it.”

Her vision clouds as her eyes roll back, before her eyes squeeze shut. A rough groan rips from her chest.

His dick, wide and thick, stretches her out in more ways than one. As he peers down between them, where they connect, his dick twitches from the sight.

Her lips mare fully stretched around him, as she feebly clenches around him. Her body is filled to the brim—stuffed.

“She hugging me tight, huh?” He laughs, holding her open with one hand. “Tryna figure out what to do with all this dick she getting.”

She clenches at his words, earning another chuckle out of him.

It’s not even like she can respond—tell him to shut up … not that she wants to. Stuffing her big, pouting lips are Sito’s big, ringed fingers. Her tongue laves at them.

The only semblance of a response she gives, is a moan.

“Don’t gotta do no more thinking, right?”

“Mm—mmh,” she groans, the sides of her mouth leaking with spit. 

Her eyes flutter, only opening when he begins to drag his dick out of her. Her back was barely able to arch against the countertop, body pressed against the cold, hard surface.

“No more thinking,” he coos. “Not when you got all this—dick in you.”

He slides back in, pushing all of those inches up against her cervix. From the small underside of her stomach that he barely catches, he can see himself pressing against the wall of her stomach.

He repeats: pulling out just to push back in. Every revelation of his dick shows him that he’s covered in her glossy slick.

He’s obsessed.

The hand on her left ass cheek grips the little bit of fat tighter as he starts to pull her back against him. And still, he fucks back.

Wet fingers drag from her leaking mouth, to clutch the chamber of her neck. Each heavy stroke punches a new sound out of her.

“Oh—ffuck! … Aauh,” she shudders as he bounces her against him. Her breathing is tight and shaky.

“Pretty ass lil’ bitch,” he grunts. With each movement, he can feel his tip kiss her spongy walls.

She squeals, somehow tightening around him.

“Don’t know … how I let you think you was some fucking bum.”

She’s getting drunk off of his dick and words. Honestly, she can’t get enough of it.

“Just needed me to come remind you, huh?”

“Ye … yes!” she groans out. 

“Needed me … to come straighten you out … w-when you was being a fucking brat—“

His voice wavers only slightly as he uses more power in his hips. She spasms around him.

“Oh—fuck, stop doing that shit,” he pants. “Stop—doing. That—“

The sound their bodies make when they collide gets louder as he fucks into her with more pressure. She can hardly keep up.

The buckle of his B.B. belt scrapes against the floor, his jeans pooled at his ankles.

She’s screaming out, her body inching up against the counter.

The hand around her neck tightens as it pulls her back. Her back curls into an arch as he leans forward to crash his lips against hers. 

Their kiss is sloppy, lips sliding off of each other’s.  Well, it’s more like he’s kissing her. Her lips are parted, moaning in his mouth, loudly.

The sound of her ass clapping against his dick is louder.

“S-so fucking tight,” he gasps against her mouth. His stomach is clenching.

Both of their bodies are covered in a layer of sweat that makes their brown skin shine.

He can’t get enough of her, going back in for another kiss, even when he feels like he’s going to pass out from not breathing.

When he pulls away, their lips smack. He finally releases her neck as he pulls out.

Her body sags against the counter, her toned legs trembling under her own body weight. As her hands feebly grip the counter’s edge, she peers back at him, looking railed. Her slick back bun is past sweated out, decorated with flyaways and frizz. Even her lips are swollen.

Cimani’s blurred vision, mostly full of tears, tracks to between Sito’s legs. She’s staring at the very thing ruining her, wondering how her friend of almost ten years was carrying all this dick around and she hasn’t even known.

Long, thick, and deep brown, with a left curve as it hangs between his tattooed legs. He is, single-handedly, her demise.

He’s saying something, but she can hardly hear him over her own panting.

“You hear me?”

Slowly, she looks up into his lustful eyes.

“Said I’ma show you something,” he repeats.

Before she can ask, a warm hand grasps her inner thigh of her right leg. The warm touch makes her jolt, she’s sensitive.

Carefully, he lifts. And she’s not too sure where this is going, her brain too exhausted to catch on with ease.

In fact, panic doesn’t set in until her knee is put to rest on the cold countertop, level with her hips. A large, warm hand falls back to the junction of her hip and lifted thigh.

This new stretch, he doesn’t even need to hold her open to see the way her pretty pussy drools. Droplets of her wetness dangle from her slickened heat. The leg she balances on, trembles even more.

“It’s good for you?”

She nods, her head dropped between her hiked shoulders.

“Yeah … already knew that.” 

He takes ahold of himself, passing over his dick with ease as the skin is slippery. He comes to hold himself towards the tip.

“Already knew … you could handle that,” he exhales

She shivers, feeling the heat of his wide tip, kiss at her opening. It’s wet, gently passing through her lips. Tickling as it travels to her clit.

Stretched, her cunt flutters at the feeling, missing how deep he was. Lost in a trance, he plays with her, slapping the head of his dick against her clit over and over. 

Her back barely arches as she tries to push back against him. Holding his dick to her swollen bud, he drags a tight fist up and down himself.

“Shit…”

Slowly, he pulls back to her sopping cunt.

“Know you could take it… Know you could—”

A sharp gasp inflates her chest, body locking up as his dick slides back in with too much ease.

The stretch is greater this time, a stronger burn. She almost taps out.

“Fuck, she squeezing me,” Sito groans out. His fingers grip the fat of her hip tight. “Know you feel that shit,” he hisses.

Her eyes roll back to the whites, feeling him reach even deeper than previous. Before she can even moan out, her head is pushed to counter, held down as she begins to fuck her again.

“This … all I w-was tr-tryna … give you, Mami.”

Her pussy hugs him extra tight at the mention of that name.

“Just some … good. Dick.” Every sentence is punctuated with a sharp thrust. “And … make sure you taken care of.” 

Her mouth opens, but there isn’t a sound leaving it.

As he picks back up to a steady pace, her pussy lets go around him. All of the friction has packs her sticky release into a creamy froth at the base of his dick. 

A sharp smack is laid to her asscheek, his heavy hand gripping the little bit of fat immediately after. 

She doesn’t even have it in her to jump from the rough hit. Instead, she just flutters around him.

“This lil’ shit drive me crazy,” he slurs. “This lil’ ass booty,” he chuckles, breathlessly.

Every time they meet, spurts of her cum splat against his pelvis.

“You’on even know … how—how many times I—“ He presses his hips right up against her. “—times I wanted to fuck ya lil’ ass up—“

Her gasp cuts him off as he straight rolls his hips, digging his dick into her drooling cunt.

“Si—Sito—“

She tries to reach back. She doesn’t even make contact with him; he keeps her wrist against her lower back.

“I know, Mami, I know.”

Slowly, he comes to a stop, pulling out just a few, thick inches. His other hand reaches down to readjust her leg, which had slipped some from the island. He pushes it up higher. 

“I know—”

“Augh—FUUUCK!”

Her voice scratches at her throat.

His shoves back in, hitting her g-spot dead-on. She crumbles against the island, gripping onto its edge with everything left in her.

Her ass jiggles cutely every time his pelvis collides with her, bouncing on him.

“All you gotta do is take it … take this dick, ‘Mani. That’s it.”

He raps a hand around her disheveled bun, yanking her head up.

“Don’t even gotta work for it,” he grunts in her ear.

She can feel it, her pussy creaming all around him. He’s slipping and sliding into her walls effortlessly. Every punch his dick gives to her cervix, knocks the wind out of her.

With how fast her heart is beating, she honestly thinks she’s about the faint.

“Ain’t never gonna make you work for it.”

She’s sniffling, her face a mess of tears.

“‘Long as you don’t give my pussy away.”

She shakes her head, lips parted and eyes squeezed shut.

“No, right?”

“N-no Pap-pa—“

“Huh?”

“No!” She wails out, feeling her standing leg shake under her. “Oooohh—uh! Fuuuck!”

“Yeah,” he smiles wildly, grills undoubtedly shining. “Ain’t no nigga giving it to her like this. Ain’t no nigga that’s—dicking her down like this.”

Following every thrust is a spurt of water, splashing down on the hardwood floor.

“Ain’t no one doing it like Sito, right?”

She cries out, unable to even form words as she twitches around him.

“Gonna stamp my name in this shit,” he swears through gritted teeth.

As sweat drips from his forehead, his braids have even started to frizz up.

All of this pleasure, all of this stimulation makes her toes curl cutely. And he catches it, the square shaped acrylics decorating them.

His hand releases her wrist to hold raised foot. He presses his thumb into the sole, immediately triggering another set of kegels off in her. 

The pressure of his thumb to her sole, and his dick against her cervix, drives her body insane. Like a reaction set off by pushing two buttons at the same time, she cums yet again.

The sound of water pouring against wood makes his ears perk up. She almost collapses from the pleasure.

“Pretty ass toes.”

He slows his strokes his focus zeroes in on her foot. She can’t even say that he’s giving her mercy at this moment, as each languid drag of his dick against her spot makes her bawl out.

“Cute ass lil’ feet.”

His dick jumps within her, a recent memory flashing within his head.

“When you put ‘em in the camera,” he huffs. “Right above this pretty ass pussy … damn near nutted.”

She only shudders. Her body spasms around him as he continues massaging her feet. And with that, his pace picks back up again.

“Fuuuck,” he groans out. “You so pretty, Mama.” 

Releasing her hair, he lets her fall back to the counter, watching how he fucks her deeply. His control is slipping from him, his thrusts getting sloppier by the second.

“This shit all yours,” he pants. “This sh— … shit all yours—f-forrea—uhh—“

He doesn’t even get to prepare for his orgasm, but his body couldn’t hold back anymore. The first few spurts were buried deep in her walls.

His brain buffers before he regains enough sense to pull out, still nutting as he does so.

Laying his dick between her cheeks, it dribbles out the last few drops of cum, softening as he finishes.

“Shit...”

He stares, lost in a trance as he stares down at the beautiful mess they made. Her brown skin glistens with a sheen of sweat and his cum decorating her pussy and cheeks.

But it isn’t until she whimpers that he’s knocked out of it. She doesn’t even have to say anything.

So tired and spent, Cimani barely even registers when she’s placed on her back, her legs wrapped around his waist.

Her eyes are barely open, but Sito is all that she sees. Everything is so hazy. 

He leans down, pressing his chest to hers and he holds her close.

And when he puckers his lips to kiss her, her movement is automatic, immediately kissing him back although weakly. 

Their pecks are soft and sweet, almost too sentimental for what just happened.

And that makes her giggle.

He cracks a smile. “What?”

“My feet, Sito? What the fuck?” she slurs with breathless laughter.

He kisses his teeth, hiding his face in her neck. “C’mon, now.”

“I just didn’t expect you to have that big of a foot fetish!” 

Her giggles are music to his ears, pulling a tired chuckle out of him.

“I don’t ... s’just you,” he mumbles, uncaring of how feindish he sounds. Pulling his body up to look at her, his eyes run over her face. “You knew that, though.”

She hums, a dreamy smile on her lips. But as they stare at each other, her mouth falls into a gentle pout.

“You nutted in me,” she whines.

He pushes her fly-aways off of her face.

“My fault, Mami,” he says softly.

It doesn’t fail to make her pussy flutter again, the action pushing more of his cum out.

“Said I was gonna stamp it, though.”

Her faux pout lightens.

“I’ll get you the Plan B.”

“Thank you,” she smiles.

Before any of them can say more, the ringtone of Cimani’s phone goes off. They jump up at the sound.

“My phone,” she says, sitting up on her elbows.

Reaching over her, Sito grabs it up from its spot on the island, closer to the opposite side. He hands it over to her, carefully.

For a second, confusion takes over her face as she reads the unknown number. 

“Who is it?”

She glances up at him. “I don’t know.”

Nevertheless, she decides to answer anyway.

“H-hello?”

Sito watches with great interest, the focused look on her face—threaded brows pulled together in thought.

“This is her.”

As the call continues, that look bleeds off of her face. It’s replaced with a bright smile.

“Yes, yes—I can come by today.” She sits up more, Sito backing up to give her the space.

“Two?” She looks at him.

Confused, he nods nonetheless.

“Y-yeah, two is good for me.”

“What?” he mouths.

But she only looks away. “Alright … yup, that’s perfect … okay. Okay, bye.”

She pulls the phone away, ending the call.

“Who was that?”

She looks up at him. “That was an apartment locator for that place you found. I-I think things fell through with their first option, so they considered me next. They asked to come by for a tour.”

His brows lift. “You deadass?”

“Yes! Oh my God!”

Throwing her phone down on the counter, she jumps on him, wrapping her arms around him and squeezing tight. Luckily his reflexes are quick enough—he catches her before she falls.

“Oh my God!” she squeals.

She pulls back, staring up at him with wide eyes. “Fuck, what time is it?”

Reaching out with one hand, he double taps her screen to get the time—almost one o’clock.

“How fast you think you could shower?” He asks.

“Fast enough.”

His lips curl upward as he gets an idea. 

“Shit, I think if we both get in, we could save some time.”

This sounds like a bad idea.

She can’t help but to mirror his expression.

“I think so, too.”

PART 1 HERE

TAGLIST • @wintrrxxo @vibewshyla @icanmakethedickstandup @toji-dabi-wife @genea-myers @whoareyouuuo @thegoatedaries @nova2kss @thecoochiefairy @plutobratz @levibabymama @bubblegum-lollipop @junitries @thevelvetwhispers @pussypinkdoll @venusincleo @soupersaldz @synicalslut

BANNERS • @cursed-carmine | @adornedwithlight & @cafekitsune

. ۪ ֗ “ 𝑁𝑜—𝐺𝑒𝑡 𝑇ℎ𝑎𝑡 𝑂𝑛𝑒 ”⋆˚🫧

PART 1 • [this fic has been split into two parts]

21k! CONTENT WARNING (MDNI) • phone s*x (mutual m*sturbation), edg*ng, unprotected s*x, p -> v s*x, b*ckshots, squ*rting, choking, c*rvix kissing, rough consensual s*x, dominating male character, possessive behavior/talk, dummification, foot f*tish, minor size k*nk, tummy bulge, heavy use of dirty talk, use of profanity, nicknames (Mami, Mama, Papa, Pa), use of the n-word (all characters & Author are Black) • INSPIRED BY THIS POST • CHARACTER VISUALZ

PART 2 HERE ->

TENSION TIES HER BROWS INTO A KNOT, disturbing the usually smooth and clear surface of her skin.

The pounding at the base of her skull is like a jackhammer to concrete. Nothing even close to a minor headache from hunger or dehydration—though the two factors are likely at play here.

Another migraine, she knows. 

The ailment has unfortunately been reoccurring for the last two months. No amount of pain reliever, water, or “relaxation” seems to be a solution. 

A solution—the solution—would be to come up on the perfect new home for herself.

Her pupils tremble as they struggle to uphold their deadpan stare on the MacBook’s bright screen. The mild sting in her eyes doesn’t distract her anymore. 

Within the last three hours since sitting up in bed, they’ve seen more numbers than her lagging brain can keep up with. Numbers that just keep climbing as the conditions and amenities of newer listings lessen. 

These sellers must be out of their fucking minds.

$3,000 a month for a one-bedroom unit, with no washer and dryer? 

Almost $600 in amenities—per month? 

$2,500 for just a studio?

Every new and disappointing option makes that worrying voice at the back of her head louder. Because—really—she’s only got about a month and a half left of this lease, and she’s definitely not staying here.

She can’t afford to. Not even with her new job.

What started as a fun and optimistic search, has turned into one full of anxiety. As time withers away, her standards for a new apartment have been whittled down to the bare minimum.

Is it fair to say that she’s become desperate?

Whether or not she’ll even be able to find a new place before her lease is up, is unknown at this point.

Funding a new place is her only option at this point. The thought of moving back in with her father is unfathomable. She just can’t.

Minutes of her teeth worrying at her bottom lip; they finally rip through the soft, pink skin. She doesn’t even flinch. Instead, she swipes her tongue over the leaking nick as she proceeds to the eleventh page of results.

These newer listings lie near the outskirts of the city, closer to the suburbs. A problem when the public transportation of her state doesn’t reach those areas, her job is in the heart of the city and—oh! She doesn’t have a car.

“Fuck.”

A defeated whine squirms from her mouth as her head falls in her hands. The heavy comforter over her legs is hot and suffocating. But, at the very least, it feels good to close her eyes for once. 

Tiny beads of tears line her closed lids, pearling up along her thinning lash extensions—which are way past their time for a fill-in. And fuck, she can’t even afford to do that.

Her chest deflates as a long and slow exhale is dragged from her chest. Following suit, is a wet sniffle. 

When she finally picks her bonneted head out of her hands, her blurred vision waltzes around her bedroom.

The light is off, the sunlight does all of the work; pouring in through the tall windows and spilling itself against the cool, plaster-colored wood flooring. It reaches farther in some areas than others.

For instance, it washes over her in a shower of light, yet hesitates to touch the corners of her room where clothes, shoes, and other miscellaneous bullshit are strewn about. She shuts her eyes with the reminder of her need to clean this pigsty.

Every morning for the last few weeks—when she doesn’t have work—has been like this: wake up, check listings for hours, rot in bed for another two while wallowing, then finally picking herself up out of bed to take care of her body’s needs.

It seems to be an endless cycle that she can’t rescue herself from. And she desperately wants to escape.

The sharp ping of her phone interrupts her regularly scheduled sulking. She’s surprised it hasn’t died yet. Her arm drags to reach out for the small device buried within her rumpled, old sheets. It takes some feeling around to find it.

When she brings it to her face, the dim screen alights to show off the brand new notification: a message.

Sito💢 — Mall?

His timing never really errs on the correct side of things. Another sigh, this one gentle, blows past her cracked lips.

You — Too broke and stressed.

A tiny balloon of shame bursts within her as she had pressed ‘send’ on the confession. 

He won’t clown her for it, Sito’s never been one to shit on another person’s financial situation. His family’s been down at a point.

The difference between hers and his, though, is that they were able to pick themselves up out of  that. Something she still faults her father for being unable to do. 

Even if it were a circumstance of luck, why couldn’t they be as lucky? 

Another ping steals her attention away.

Sito💢 — Don’t even tb it

Sito💢 — Yk igu

She stares at his messages, for how long, she’s not sure. Regardless, her delayed response must’ve been long enough to trigger something in him. More messaged come.

Sito💢 — Could tb it over food, I’m buying

Sito💢 — Lmk

The word “food” reminds her body that the last time it’s consumed anything was honestly too long ago to remember—and that she desperately needs to go grocery shopping. 

Her stomach feebly growls.

Sito💢 — Could tb it over food, I’m buying ?

↳ 👍

•

Even with the promise of food, getting ready proved to be an arduous task. She isn’t in the highest of spirits to really dress as nicely as she usually would.

Fishing through the laundry spilling from her closet, she finds her blue Gallery Department hoodie buried under a pile of clothes.

It’s actually Sito’s. Just one of the many pieces she’d stolen from his closet during a visit over to his place.

The hoodie pools around her upper half. She’s got to tuck it under her bra so that it sits right on her. The only pair of denim shorts she can find are her choice of bottoms for the day. 

Her fresh white ankle socks just barely peek out over the low tops of her Converses—a years-old birthday gift.

She ambles out of her room with her phone in one hand and her purse dangling from the other. It isn’t until she reaches the kitchen that she takes a knee to lace up her sneakers.

Just as she finishes the bow of her laces on the second foot, her phone buzzes from beside her foot on the floor. Sito’s contact name flashes across the screen with a FaceTime call. She answers, and her face shrinks as his takes up the entire screen.   

His caramel skin glistens. Fresh braids line his twisting head, dark eyes straying from the camera as his focus is clearly on the road ahead of him.

“Yo.”

“Hey,” she mumbles.

He glances at her, doing a quick once-over of the screen.

“You good?”

“Not really.”

His lips press together in thought as he looks at the road ahead of him. “You gon’ be good, I’m pulling up right now. Come downstairs.”

“Alright.”

“Aight.”

The call ends just as quickly as it started. She shoves her phone into her hoodie pocket and slings her purse over her right shoulder. Quick to grab the keys to her apartment, she heads out of the door and locks it behind herself.

The elevator ride down to the lobby is really a blur. Though, her mind seems to return once she catches sight of the sleek, black Audi Q5. The smile that appears on her face is weak, but at least it’s there.

She’s quick to get to the passenger-side door, pulling it open. “Hey,” she says softly, as she hops into the seat.

The scent of his car warms her chest. So characteristically him. Yet, she can pick up on the separate scent of the cologne he’s wearing, Tom Ford’s Bitter Peach.

He makes the first move, reaching over the middle console to wrap an arm around her shoulders. “Wassup.”

She leans into him, her cheek squished against the ball of his shoulder. The hug barely lasts a second. And even with his sweater on, she still feels the chill of when he pulls away.

“You smell good,” he says over the sound of her shuffling in her seat, getting situated.

“Forreal?” The crisp click of her seatbelt cuts through the air.

Looking away, he puts the car in drive, carefully pulling out of the temporary parking spot. “Yeah.”

“Funny thing is, I didn’t even spray nothing on me. I was in a rush, I forgot.” She gathers the hoodie in a pinch, lifting the thick fabric to her freckled, button nose for a quick sniff. “Mmh,” she hums, dropping it. “You’re probably smelling my old perfume on it, I didn’t wash this since the last time I wore it.”

As he’s driving, he seems to do a double-take at her.

“Hol’up—that’s my Gallery hoodie you got on?”

A small, quiet giggle floats from around the nail of her thumb as it’s pushed between the top and bottom rows of her teeth. “I was wondering when you’d notice it was gone.”

“Man, I just got that shit ‘bout … four months ago.” He glances at her one more time, closely eyeing how it shrouds her much smaller frame. “Just spraying your shit all on my clothes like it’s yours.”

“‘Cause it is.” Although quiet, there’s a sass in her tone that relieves him. 

There’s a ghost of a smirk on his pink lips, so faint she doesn’t even see it. “Always playing around in my clothes … barely even notice when something’s missing.”

He isn’t lying. Next to the mall, his closet is her favorite place to shop at.

“I’ma start reporting my shit as stolen.”

“Shut the fuck up,” she mumbles, picking at her outgrown acrylics as she tries to fight back an even bigger smile. “Your mother would not appreciate you lying on my name like that.”

Outside of the car windows, the buildings zoom by. His fast driving hasn’t scared her for a long time. So long as she’s got a functioning seat belt on, she’s secure.

The lemon yellow diamonds on his bracelet glisten when the sunlight hits them; he lifts his hand to play with the curly tuft of hair at his chin. 

“Yeah … you do got my folks thinking you all sweet ‘n’ shit.”

Her eye-roll is polite, despite the rude nature of such an action. “And am.”

“Mmh … nah.” He slows the car as he takes a soft turn. “They just don’t know that you really a brat.”

Her head jerks back, face twisting up with taken offense. “A brat?”

His words posit a bit of energy within her that he enjoyed. Fuck all of that fake, ‘soft-spoken,’ and mopey bullshit.

“No, the fuck I’m not.” She glares his way. 

He grins. “Really? Cause you don’t listen. It’s always an argument, even if you know I’m right.”

“‘Cause you’re not.”

He swipes his tongue along the wall of his cheek. “You think you know everything, huh? You smart, ‘Mani, but you ain’t the only one.”

A scoff. “Really? ‘Cause it feels like it every time we speak.”

He huffs out a breath of laughter, not at all taking her words to heart. “I think you just like hearing yourself talk.”

“I do. Especially when I’m right.” She smiles to herself, triumphantly.

And all he does is shake his head, amused at the whole ordeal. 

Just a quick temperature check, is all that was. He needed to know if her issues were beyond his fixing.

Blindly, he plucks his phone up from its spot in his lap, barely glancing at the screen to unlock it. He tosses the device to her.

“Uh!”

“You been slacking at your job, DJ.”

She kisses her teeth, picking up the phone anyway.

“And don’t play none’a that Slizzy shit. That’s all you been playing lately.”

“Fuck you, it’s good.”

‘It’s really not,’ is what he wants to say. Yet, he holds his fire when he hears the beginning of one of his favorite G Herbo songs over the car’s speakers. 

He begins to bop his head along to the fast-paced beat.

“Yeah, look at you. Like a moth to a flame,” she says with a smirk.

But he doesn’t listen, only happy that he got his way.

As she scrolls through his playlist, looking for a song to queue up that’s more of her taste, a notification pops down on his screen:

Jada — Sitooo

Her eyes narrow. She doesn’t even chance taking a glimpse at him. 

Pursing her lips, Cimani swipes away the message before putting his phone on ‘Do Not Disturb.’ And, no doubt, Sito’s got his Focus Status shared. 

With a one-sided smile, she clicks on a song she actually likes, queue-be-damned.

He kisses his teeth as what is definitely a Slizzy-type beat, begins to play—MHPG Sound’s MHA.

“‘Mani.”

He glances over at her, a large smile splitting her face in half. She only giggles.

“You getting fired soon.”

She laughs harder.

However, eventually, all of that ruckus dies down. Too soon for her liking, actually. 

The silence that fills the space leaves her too much room to think about her problems again—this Jada-character not being one of them. She’s a problem for a different day.

Even if Sito isn’t constantly looking her way, he still sees the way her face slowly falls in his peripheral.

That somber look returns, dragging her pretty face down while her thoughts appear like a dark cloud over her head. 

Thunder’s rumbling, preparing for lightning to strike.

Money.

Her lease.

The apartment—

“You know what your problem is?”

The impending storm quiets, just long enough for her to hear him. It takes seconds longer than normal for her to digest his words.

With what seems to be a surprise attack on her character, she waits for him to continue so that she may decide whether or not to be rightfully offended.

“You be thinking too hard. All these choices and big ass decisions you try to make.”

The birth of this new conversation steals the spotlight from her other issues, shoving those thoughts to a corner in her mind.

“So, what? I should just stop thinking for myself?”

“Didn’t say all that.”

“So what are you saying, then?”

He inhales. “What I’m saying is that, you don’t need to be doing all that thinking and worrying.”

She can only laugh, more out of shock at his audacity. “Excuse me?”

“You tired of it.” He glances at her. “I could tell … should let me be the one doing all that.”

She tries to ignore the way her stomach drops at those words.

“You?” she asks, as if the mere suggestion was an insult. “Oh, please! The nigga constantly losing his wallet?”

He shrugs. “You know I’m right, ‘Mani. You don’t gotta fry me. I’m being serious.”

She kisses her teeth, turning her head to look out of the window, already over this conversation. “Sito, you’re a man. And the last time I put my life into a man’s hands, I almost ended up homeless.”

“Quit comparing me to other niggas.”

As she opens her mouth to say something, he’s already speaking again.

“Told you ‘bout that. I’m your friend, I’d never do you like that.” 

It’s funny. The mention of their relationship sparks a flame of irritation in her. 

Is Jada a friend?

“I just need you to relax around me. That’s all … Relax, and let me take care of shit. Promise you, you’ll like it.”

Releasing a tired sigh, Cimani decides to keep her thoughts to herself. She turns her body back towards the window, allowing the music to fill the space that their conversation once took up.

•

It’s something about going to the mall—call it the spirit of consumerism taking ahold of her. 

Stepping into the cool, wide open space with sunlight pouring in from the glass ceiling, her mood shifts. She can’t lie. 

The mall has always been a place of good vibes and fun experiences. Especially when it comes to Sito being there. 

They’ve been going together for years, at this point. And one thing that always surprises her is how much his love for shopping matches hers.

Quickly, she learned that he’s a great shopping partner. A great plus, too is that he’s got a commendable taste in fashion. But, he doesn’t need to hear that from her.

Their first time going together, she assumed that he’d be a complainer, whining because she took too long in stores trying on every item that caught her eye. Just like everyone else she’d go with.

However, he managed to be the one to outlast her. By the eighth store, she was tired and cranky. Her feet were killing her, and although he held most of the bags, what little she had were growing heavier by the second. And he had the audacity to ask about going to another store.

“Where you tryna go first?” he asks, looking down at her.

“I don’t know.” She doesn’t spare him a glance, still holding onto that conversation from the car. “I’m not gonna buy anything.”

Sito gives her a pointed look. “Lil’ girl’, please pick a store.”

Ignoring his obvious effort at trying to get under her skin, she peers around the busy space. People of all kinds fill the mall. Some walk together while others walk alone. There’s families, friends, and couples alike. 

Entering through the first floor’s main entrance, they’ve come up on the more mainstream stores. Ones that cater more to the general public.

The more expensive stores and boutiques—your name brands—are situated on the higher level, towards the back of the mall. That’s more of Sito’s spot.

However, though, one of the first floor stores catch her eyes: Windsor. Sito follows her gaze. 

“Aight, c’mon then,” he says, gently taking her wrist to pull her along. 

Her protest is only a silent roll of the eyes.

Upon entering the store, his hand drops hers. “Go crazy.”

With a raised brow and a twisted lip, she glares up at him. “Sito, I don’t have money to waste—”

“So don’t.”

She scowls at him.

Letting go of a stressed sigh, he’s more than ready to give up on this conversation. Because he thought it went unsaid that, “If you want something, I’ma get it.”

For a moment, she only stares. The irritation on her face fades, but it doesn’t disappear. 

“Is this an apology?”

He shrugs. “If that’s how you wanna take it.”

Her bright eyes narrow before rolling yet again. She pulls away from him, heading to the first rack that earns her attention. As she walks away, he looks on with satisfaction.

•

There’s racks on either side of them, clothes strewn all over the place. Hangers are twisted and shoved into spots they don’t belong.

All courtesy of Cimani.

He can admit, his friend is a messy shopper. And while he can’t help but to notice it, she doesn’t seem to even be aware of her issue. Her focus is elsewhere.

“What do you think about this?”

To her chest, she holds up the tiniest tennis skirt Sito has ever seen in his life. 

And yet, his eyebrows don’t even raise a fraction.

He’s familiar with Cimani’s taste in fashion. Skin-tight and revealing. He knows who his friend is; “the shorter, the better,” she once said. 

This late in the game, he doesn’t even blink twice when her pants ride a bit too low on her hips or her shirts are too sheer for her brown nipples.

She’s pretty to look at, why would he complain?

“S’cool,” he says, eyeing it. 

The skirt is a soft cream, so pale that it almost appears to be white.

She raises a brow. “That’s all?”

“It’s your style. You already know you gonna look good in it.”

“Hm.” She turns her back to him, tossing the skirt over her arm as she shuffles through the rack. All the while, she’s pressing her glossed lips together, willing them to stay in a straight line.

The pile of clothes hanging over her left arm piques his curiosity. He leans into one of the racks. “You tryna make an outfit or something?”

“I guess,” she sighs out. “I’m not finding anything cute enough, though.”

If she can find this beautiful skirt, why can’t she walk out of here with a whole new outfit?

And that’s how she spends the next twenty minutes in this store, turning it on its head to find a good enough top to go with it. Though, she doesn’t neglect to swipe up anything else that catches her eyes. 

“What the fuck?” She groans. Frustration creases up her face, as she defeatedly joins the line.

“It’s other stores, Mami,” Sito gently reminds from behind her.

She only rolls her eyes. “I wanted something from here, though.”

Throwing a heavy arm around her shoulders, he pulls her body to his chest. The weight of his pull causes her to scuff her CDG Converses against the toes of his Balenciaga ASICS, but he ignores it.

“You gonna find something.”

Her heart flutters from the affection. She keeps the feeling bottled up.

Silence settles between them for some time as they slowly move up in the line. Sure, the clothes have begun to grow heavy in her arms, but she doesn’t mind it too bad. 

However, the arm around her shoulders is definitely a stronger weight. And even as he scrolls through his phone, hitting up any app that catches his interest, Sito doesn’t pull his arm away. 

How many times has she been in his phone? He’s not too worried.

With no choice left but to watch, her eyes scour his screen with a detached interest. 

Until she looks in the upper right hand corner of the screen to see the ‘Do Not Disturb’s crescent symbol.

Her lips purse.

“So … who’s Jada?”

His thumb twitches over the screen. Against her back, his chest slowly inflates with a deep but slow breath.

“Not anyone you know.”

“That’s why I’m asking.”

It’s quiet for a few seconds as she waits for a response.

He kisses his teeth. “She not nobody for you to be worried about.”

Wrong answer. 

“Hope you didn’t leave her on ‘delivered.’”

There’s a subtle twist of her lips now.

“I didn’t.”

Before he can provide a better answer, she pulls away to stand on her own.

He sighs to himself. It’s so soft, it can almost be mistaken as a simple exhale.

Without a doubt, there’s more questions she wants to ask, more things she wants to say. But … she keeps quiet. 

They remain parted until they finally reach the register. 

“Hello, would you like to pay with cash or card?” the cashier asks while tapping away at the register. She’s a younger worker, clearly in her teens. 

Cimani’s lips part to give an answer.

“Card.”

Her mouth shuts, head jerking back as she gives Sito a glare. The cashier simply nods as she begins to scan each item.

“What’s the next store?”

She doesn’t spare him a glance as she shrugs plainly. Her frank demeanor makes him press his lips together in annoyance. He stares her down.

“‘Mani.”

“What?”

“Look at me.”

Her upper lip curls in distaste. She doesn’t obey.

“Bro, cmon.”

This time she listens, but the frown on her face deepens. That doesn’t matter too much to him.

“Dap me up.”

With a small grin, he holds out a ringed hand. The diamonds in the jewelry glisten under the store’s warm lighting.

Cimani only gives him a stiff once-over.

“Dap me up,” he presses. The jewelry on his wrist softly clink against each other as he shakes his hand for emphasis.

“Your total is two fifty-six, eighteen,” the cashier cuts in. “You can tap whenever you’re ready.”

Sito wants to groan. Dropping his hand, he retrieves his phone from his pocket to proceed with ApplePay. Shortly after, his phone dings with the successfully completed purchase.

“You over here catching an attitude, but she ain’t the one I’m getting shit for right now.” Reaching over the counter, he grabs the large shopping bags from the cashier’s hand.

“Have a good day,” Cimani tells her with a short smile, before walking ahead of him.

He follows.

“So you do this for all your friends, then?” she asks as they leave the store.

His face twists up. “One—she’s not my friend. And two, Hell nah.” 

Just as fast, he drops the disgusted look. He switches the shopping bags to the other hand, throwing his free arm back around her smaller shoulders. 

“You know I only do this type’a shit for you, Mami.”

Rolling her eyes at the nickname, she begrudgingly succumbs to his affection. Her body goes lax as she eventually leans mores into his touch.

Without a mention, Sito pulls them in a specific route, effectively leading the way to another store.

“Where we going?” she asks after a while.

“This one store I seen.”

When that’s all he says, her face contorts in confusion. “That’s it? What’s the name of the store?”

“Man, I’on know. But, we ‘bout to see, chill.”

She scoffs. “So damn annoying.”

It takes less than five more minutes for them to reach the new location. And “new” it is.

“I never seen this place before,” she says as they cross the threshold.

The store takes on more of a boutique style. There’s decorations of frills, lace, and baby pink all around them. These type of clothes seem to be more of a coquette style.

“Yeah,” he says, leading her towards the back of the store. “Seen it the other day when I came to pick up something.”

A soft gasp leaves her as she places a delicate hand over her chest in offense. “You came to the mall without me? What the fuck, Sito?”

He kisses his teeth, reaching overhead to riffle through a wall-mounted rack. “Relax, just had to get my mom’s pick-up order. I was in and out.”

“So you only went to one store?”

He lifts a cropped cardigan out from behind a couple of its other duplicates. He hands it over. “Yes.”

Without a question, Cimani takes the item. She doesn’t even check the size, confident that he knows hers. 

“You promise?” She gazes up at him with big eyes.

As he stares down at her dramatic pout, he’s reminded of how cherubic her face is.

Faint freckles dot the apples of her cheeks and spill over the bridge of her nose. He only really sees them when he gets this close. On the apple of her left cheek, there’s a tiny beauty mark that stands out. And her lashes—which, speaking of—

“You need a fill-in.”

Her face falls. “Fuck you.”

With a smirk, he huffs out a breath of laughter. “You made an appointment for that yet?”

Finally, she takes a good look at the cardigan he’d given her. She frowns at it. “No.”

“Don’t do that, it’s cute,” he says, referencing the cardigan. “Y’know that’s your style.”

She looks at him challengingly. “Is it?”

“It’s gonna look good on you.” He eyes the piece closely, imagining it with the skirt she just purchased. “But, tell me when you book the appointment.”

“Yeah, you would like to know. ‘Cause you just love running errands with me.” She smirks, throwing the cardigan over her arm.

“I just know you gonna ask for a ride.” He takes her bag from the previous store as she walks over to some dresses. And, of course, he follows. “No car,” he mocks.

She picks up a backless, maxi dress. “Keep being sassy and you won’t have anyone to be taking.”

“Yeah, okay.” He eyes the dress. “Don’t get that.”

Kissing her teeth, her face screws up. “Who the fuck are you to tell me what to wear?”

“A nigga that cares, that shit ugly,” he scoffs. “I’on know why you even picked that up. Y’know I’m your stylist.” His statement finishes with a soft smirk, only earning an aggressive eyeroll.

“And what if I like to dress myself, hm? What if I really liked this dress?”

He sucks his teeth, jerking his head back. “C’mon, y’know that’s not gonna fit you right. Look at the cut,” Sito gestures to the baggy fabric. “You too pretty for that.”

Rolling her eyes, Cimani puts the dress back. 

“That’s not even your style. Just picking shit up to do it—“

“Anyway,” she laughs. The bubbly sound tapers off with a sigh. “I can’t really afford a fill-in right now. You know that.”

“That’s why I said to let me know when you book it, duh. Ain’t no other reason I’ma say that.”

“And when the fuck did you become a trick?”

The simple question earns a chuckle out of him as he follows her on the way over to a short rack of cropped tops. 

“You think you funny,” he smiles.

“You’re laughing, aren’t you?” She pushes a hanger or two to the side, trying to find her size.

“Shut the fuck up.”

Cimani only rolls her eyes.

“Quit questioning me. I’m just tryna make sure you look good.”

•

And he wasn’t lying about that. 

After leaving the second store, with Sito having bought her even more clothes, he decides to take her to his list of favorite stores: Alo, Nordstrom, Lulu Lemon, Bloomingdales, and even a couple of sneaker resale stores. 

Granted, he hadn’t bought something from every store they visited, but he undoubtedly dropped about two bands on her. A little less on himself, just a small cop of some shoes he’s been eyeing for some time.

He was ready to spend more, really cash out and make his best friend feel better, but the food court called for them. And when it’s time for them to eat, that typically marks the end of their shopping trip.

The line for their choice of lunch wasn’t horrendously long—a relief when they’ve got at least five large shopping bags between them. 

When they take their seats, Sito is sure to keep them at his feet, underneath the table. There is the soft crinkle of paper bags and wrappers as they chew on their selection of fries and chicken sandwiches. 

As usual, Sito finishes his meal prematurely. He only rolls his bag over, mentally swearing to go back to this leftover fries later—which he never does. To clear his throat, he takes a sip of his lemonade as he eyes Cimani.

“So,” he begins, setting down his half-finished cup. “You wanna talk about it forreal or…?”

She glances up, a blank expression covering her face. “What do you mean?”

“Shit, you tell me. Something’s clearly bothering you.”

It was only a matter of time.

“And don’t try to say it’s nothing.” He points a playfully warning finger in her face.

For a second or two, she only stares at him. But, that’s all it takes for her to crack a smile. With a lazy hand, she pushes his out of her face and looks down at her food.

She doesn’t know what to say first. Her smile falters as she builds her response in her head.

“Life’s just … beating my ass.” 

A soft sigh slips through parted lips. After eating and the natural wear of the day, there’s hardly any trace of her lipgloss left.

She shakes her head. “It’s about my apartment.”

His brows pull together. “What you mean?”

“Like … ugh.” Her head falls into her hands, her elbows pressed into the surface of the table. “Why is apartment searching so hard.”

The wrinkle in his brows deepens. Since when had she been planning to move?

Cimani picks her head up out of her hands. “My lease is ending in less than two months and I can’t afford to renew it. They’re asking for too much.”

“How much?”

She sighs, picking at her fries. “An extra three-hundred.” Her dark eyes flick upwards to peer into his. “I’m already struggling with my rent as is, Sito. I can’t afford this. I’m already burning through my savings trying to keep up ‘cause it took me so long to get this new job.”

Quiet, he rubs a hand down the lower half of his face, sitting up straighter in his chair. 

“Everything I find is too expensive, and for what these aprtments are offering, it’s not worth it,” she continues. “Everything in this city is just so fucking expensive.”

The fatigue in her voice is almost tangible.

“And what’s actually in my price range is outside the city, and those units aren’t even an option for me. They’re too far from my job to have to take public transportation every day. I don’t even have a car.”

The more she talks, the more he finds her shrinking in on herself. Her shoulders become more hunched, her voice grows shaky, and her frown deepens. 

She picks at the fraying of her shorts. “I can’t risk being late to this job, Sito. I just started it, I’m still on probation.”

Her cracking voice causes a heavy feeling in his chest. His mouth twitches, threatening to fall into a frown of its own. 

How can he make this better?

It only takes about ten seconds for him to formulate an idea.

“What if I let you borrow my car?”

His words seem to pluck her head up, her eyes wide and brows pulled together. 

“What?”

She shakes her head. “Sito, I can’t—“

“Nah, hol’on—obviously, it’s not gonna be the one I drive. Just take the Benz.”

“Sito—”

“I’m serious.”

‘Just take the Benz.’ Did he even realize how that sounded? Sometimes, Cimani feels like it slips his mind how different things are for them.

“And if I scratch it doing some dumb shit or I get in an accident, then what?”

“Then I get it fixed, ‘Mani.” The wrinkle in Sito’s brows grows deeper. “What you tripping for? You need the car, right?”

“I can’t take your car, Sito.” Reaching out, she plucks a single fry from its container and pops it into her mouth, just to keep her body moving. 

Truth be told, the nature of this conversation has ruined her appetite. She chews for longer than normal.

His sigh, one of stress this time around, is quite loud. For a minute, he doesn’t say anything. But when he finally does… 

“So what you gonna do about the apartment, Mami?” His voice is tendered as he tries to meet her where she’s at.

Mid-swallow, she almost chokes on her food.

The nickname; she’s used to hearing it from him—an inside joke between them that should’ve long since died when he said it by mistake to her, during a heated conversation. 

Too unserious for their own good, the two friends couldn’t help but dissolve into laughter, effectively ending the argument.

Ever since, Sito found himself using it whenever he felt like being funny. 

Actually, that was the case.

She’s not really sure when the change happened, but most times now, she finds him using the nickname with a sincerity that’s almost … sickening. 

It actually tends to catch her off guard more often than not these days.

At the very least, she can acknowledge how she really likes when he says it. Even if, at times, she can’t handle it. Especially those times when he purposely softens his voice just to call her that.

Recentering her breathing, she looks past him.

“I dunno,” she mumbles. “Um … guess I’ll just have to keep … looking.”

It’s quiet between them for a moment. The absence of a response has her believe that he chose to accept the situation for what it is, just like she had. That he chose to drop the subject and that they can get back to their day of fun.

“If you want—and not on no weird shit, aight? I just want you to consider it … you could choose to renew the lease, and I’ll give you the difference.”

“Sito,” she exhales. “I cannot make you pay my rent—“

“It’s a good thing you not making me, then. And I’m not paying your rent, ‘Mani. I’m just giving you the rest of it. That’s all. We don’t gotta talk about it ever. I’ll just set up a payment schedule every month—”

“No, Sito, no. You’re my friend, and I love you—I love that you’re trying to help me. I appreciate you, I really do—even for today. Thank you, but I can’t make you do that. I can’t use you.”

“You not using me ‘Mani, damn.” The signs of irritation bleed onto his face, even if he hadn’t intended for it to show. “Where the fuck you getting that shit from? I just wanna make sure you good.”

“And thank you for that, Sito. Seriously, but I’m never letting a nigga get the chance to say that he’s the one paying my rent or holding my living situation over my head. No one’s ever gonna control me like that. Ever. I need to be able to do this on my own. Just respect my wishes, please? Please.“

His exhale tells her all too well that he isn’t the happiest about this.

“Aight … aight then.“

“Thank you… If you wanna help, just … help me find a new place.”

He licks his lips as he shifts in his seat. He nods. “Okay, I’ma help you.” 

“Thank you.” She gives a somber smile. 

It’s so weak that it trembles under the weight of trying to conceal just how hopeless she is.

Yet, the longer he looks at her, the more that smile cracks. And the cracks just keep getting bigger and bigger until the mask shatters. 

A small whine leaves her as she hides her face in her hands. There’s a hiccup he doesn’t hear, but a wet sniffle comes right after. That, he definitely hears.

“‘Mani—“

“I just feel so fucking … broke and ugly.”

Her shoulders tremble as she begins to wipe at her wet face.

“Like … I’m a fucking bum!”

“Aye.” Sito reaches out for her across the table, gently pulling her hand away from her face. “You not a bum, Mami.”

“I feel like one.”

“But you not. C’mon, quit all that crying.” 

She doesn’t look him in the eyes as he thumbs away her falling tears.

“I can’t even get—get my hair done … o-or do my nails,” her voice wavers. 

She can’t deny that she’s painfully aware of her overgrown nails. At this point, her shorties were now considered medium length.

“My lashes are way past a fill-in, a-and now I-I look like a fucking—cartoon character with j-just three lashes on each eye—“

“Aye, c’mon now. Stop.” He rubs her collected tears between his thumb and forefinger before wiping more of them away. “You know you better than that. You just in a rough spot right now.”

Her face creases up again as another cry leaves her, more tears bubbling up at her waterline.

He pulls his hand away to grab her a clean napkin. “Here—look.”

She sniffles again. “Th-thank you,” she hiccups, taking the napkin.

“You good,” he says softly, watching her clean herself up.

Silence settles over the two of them as Cimani slowly regains her composure while Sito patiently waits for her.

“You not ugly, Cimani. You just not done up, and that’s cool. You’on need all that shit. I know how you step. Don’t gotta prove shit to no one.”

A numb sensation settles over her while she listens to his encouraging words. And she appreciates them more than she can even say.

“Just focus on getting that new place first. We gonna find something.”

The only response she can give is a nod.

Her inhale is shaky. She wipes at her face again. With a tired sigh, she places the balled up napkin down on the table. 

“I don’t even wanna go home tonight,” she croaks.

“You don’t got to.”

Finally, she peers at him with glassy eyes. The frown on her lips has yet to go away.

“You wanna leave?”

She nods.

“Aight.”

•

There is no jingling of keys or the click of a lock when he opens his apartment. Instead, there’s a soft whirr when he simply taps his phone against the electronic lock.

He pushes the door open softly and shifts to the side to let her through. Cimani keeps quiet as she slips past him, entering what Sito’s dubbed as her “second home,” for the first time in a few weeks.

When he enters right after her, he flicks on the lights to his kitchen and living room, illuminating the large, open area.

After leaving her shoes at his door, she heads straight to the couch. As much as she loves his place in all of its sleek, contemporary nature, she’s too exhausted and sad to enjoy the decor tonight.

“I’ma go put the bags in the room,” he mumbles.

She nods as he’s already on the way to his bedroom. Settling back against the large, burnt orange cushions, her eyes fall closed as she exhales.

In this time by herself, her brain replays the issues that plague her life with a kind of hurried exhaustion. 

She doesn’t even hear when Sito comes back out. However, when the knock of a closed cabinet door sounds, she finds him in the kitchen. With a new change of clothes, might she add.

Behind the bar-like counter, he holds the long neck of a wine bottle. Just a few inches away, there are two wine glasses, ready to be filled.

“You look like you need to drink your problems away.”

Her face softly creases with a weak smile. She doesn’t even have it in her to give a tiny laugh. 

The bottle isn’t unopened. Usually, he only brings this one out when she’s over. It’s the only brand he owns that she’ll drink.

Without much thought, unscrews the top off of the bottle and pours the first glass. The drink’s deep red color flows into the crystal clear cup, which he eyes with caution.

“On the table right there, it’s my laptop. You could get it.”

Her brows pull together as she looks at him.

He glances at her, feeling those dark brown—almost black—eyes on him. “We gonna find some listings.”

He had looked back at the cup too quick to notice the way her face softened and opened up. But, maybe it’s a good thing he hadn’t seen it—she gets the feeling that he’s seen her get teary-eyed enough for the day.

By the time she retrieved his laptop, a new MacBook—at least much newer than hers—he’s already heading over to the living room with their glasses of wine.

“Password’s the same as my phone.”

She types away, unlocking the device with ease.

“Thank you,” she glimpses at him as he rests her cup on the coffee table, in a spot closest to her.

He takes his own seat in the crook of the couch’s L-shape, just a cushion or two down from where she sits at.

Cupping the bottom of his glass, Sito holds it close to his mouth as he begins use of his phone. He’s the picture of relaxation, it’s almost funny.

He’s got his glasses on—which he only wears when he really feels like being focused. Straight-leg sweats cover his tatted legs. He’s got the ankle of one resting over the knee of the other, his lifted leg forming a right angle. His raised foot wags, both feet clad in his Balenci house slides.

Truthfully, he looks like somebody’s mother. Especially with his small bonnet covering his cornrows.

“What’s your budget?”

She blinks out of her reverie. “Um … two-thousand?”

He takes a sip of his wine, attention still buried in his phone as he types away.

She decides that before he catches her staring, to focus her attention on the laptop and start searching for apartments.

•

Sade plays softly through his surround sound—he’d decided that they needed the accompaniment of music shortly into their search.

Her cup sat untouched for the better half of an hour before she started to sip on it. She’s not sure what to say about this search.

She’s grateful that Sito’s helping, beyond grateful, but a lot of what they find are listings she’s seen before. Cimani’s come to learn the available apartments of their city like the back of her hand.

And the results they’re getting, for her budget, aren’t really even good enough options. Unsafe neighborhoods, not enough space, bad reviews on landlords, units so in-need of a renovation that it was a safety hazard at this point—it’s a struggle.

Near the bottom of Sito’s cup sits the dregs of his drink. He abandoned it on the coffee table just before he reached the bottom of the cup, claiming to “lock in” on this search.

However, at this point he thinks he actually might need another glass to help him continue this search.

With a soft grunt, he slowly unfolds to reach forward for the wine bottle on the table.

“This shit killing me,” he rasps, pouring into her cup before he does his.

“Imagine I’ve been doing this for months now.”

He kisses his teeth, recapping the bottle. “Might as well live with me at this point.” The laugh that proceeds afterwards, is messy and loose.

That’s the wine talking.

“At this point,” she agrees with a giggle. “Clear out a couple drawers for me.”

Definitely the wine talking.

Cradling his cup, he falls back into the embrace of the couch. All the while, he keeps his eyes on her as a lazy smile lifts his lips.

“You know you gon’ wear all my shit anyway.”

Looking over the edge of his laptop, she finally makes eye contact with him. His gaze is stiff, unmoving, as he holds her stare over the edge of the cup while taking another sip.

His lips smack as he swallows the tart drink. “Could move in tonight if you wanted.”

She only smiles, finally gaining the strength to look back at the laptop’s screen.

“You’on think we could live together?” he pushes.

A shortened piece of laughter leaves her as the state of his lovely space, as opposed to hers, comes to mind.

“No.”

His face scrunches up. “Why?”

“I’m too messy for you, Sito.”

“Oh, so—so you aware.”

“Shut up,” she giggles again.

His smile is smooth as he pulls the sound out of her.

“But…” He sits up on the couch, even leaning forward some. “You know I’ll hire a cleaner behind you.”

The soft slur of his words makes her scoff. She almost can’t even hear it.

He kisses his teeth. “Stop playing with me, you know I’ll do it.”

“Oh, I know.”

“Aight, then. So what’s the issue?”

Pursing her lips, Cimani chances giving him another look. “I thought you hate when I take your clothes.”

The second before he answers, he stares into her eyes as he wets his lips. His own eyes are low. “You know I don’t give a fuck about that shit … be forreal.” A smile inches at her lips.

He only breaks eye contact to push a finger up under the band of his bonnet. His eyes slightly roll off as he scratches an itch.

“You know a nigga like that shit, quit acting dumb.”

She’d heard his mumbled words loud and clear. She swallows, her throat dry. It almost tempts her to take some more wine. But she knows it’ll have her saying stupid shit,

“Do you let Jada wear your stuff?”

Like that.

The smirk she wears is hollow, but only she knows that. But, she can’t deny the pang in her chest that appears when he looks offended at her words.

“Yo—don’t—“ He shakes his head, as if trying to erase his mind like an Etch-A-Sketch. “Why you even bring that up?”

She shrugs weakly, looking back at the computer. “Thought that’s what y’all were on,” she says plainly. Though, on the inside she feels like she stepped on a landmine. “Since, y’know, you said she wasn’t a friend.”

“‘Cause she’s not. How those things even connect? And—yo, stop playing on me, you know I don’t bring nobody back to my place. You crazy?” His face seems to screw up the more he thinks about what she said. “All this shit I got up in here—You the only one I let in here. You know that. Quit acting like—“ 

He cuts himself off with the kiss of his teeth, growing more frustrated. He scrubs a hand down the front of his head, a habit he’s never shaken, even after growing out his waves.

“Yo, quit moving like you’on know who you are and what shit is, ‘Mani. You be pissing me off with that shit, forreal.”

She stays quiet, at war with herself on whether or not it’s good that she wants to smile. On the other hand, Sito reaches forward to gulp down more of his wine.

The conversation leaves off there, both electing to continue their search in silence. And it stays that way for a long while. 

This time around, as they put their all into this, both sparingly touch their cups. It was growing harder to focus with all of the drinking.

But, the silence can’t last forever. A yawn wrestles its way out of Cimani. Shortly after, the same happens for Sito.

Then, there’s another pause for silence.

“Look at what I just sent you.”

Wordlessly, she picks up her phone just as it receives a text. Without hesitance, she opens the link he’d sent her.

For $1,850 a month, it’s a newly renovated one bedroom, one bathroom unit almost twenty minutes from her current apartment. Much closer to her new job. Amenities include a rooftop lounge, a gym, and in-unit laundry. And what’s more, is that it’s conveniently located near public transportation.

“Oh my God,” she says, sitting up straighter, her eyes opening a bit wider. She slides the laptop onto the couch, beside her. “This is perfect. How did you find this?”

This is the first time she’s looked at him in almost an hour. And it brings her some relief to see the tiny grin on his lips.

Their last conversation was forgotten, it seems.

“Told you we was gonna find something.”

Looking back down at her phone, she continues to  scroll through the listing, loving it more by the second.

By the looks of it, she’d have to do some minimal downsizing, but this unit would be the perfect size for her. She’s been meaning to get rid of some hoarded junk for a while now.

As she scrolls to the bottom of the page, ready to apply, reality steps in to remind her that nothing ever just works out perfectly for her.

Her smile drops upon seeing the greyed out text: In Contract.

“What? What happened?” 

She peers up to see him watching her, before she looks back down at the screen.

“It’s already in contract, Sito.” She throws her head back against the couch, groaning out. “What the fuck!”

“Don’t trip, relax. See if they left a email and shoot ‘em one about the listing.”

She picks her head back up, worry all over her face. “Don’t you know what that means? They’re already in the process of renting out the space to someone.”

For the umpteenth time today, he sucks his teeth. “‘Mani, you don’t know what stage of the process they in. They could still be looking for applicants.”

“I don’t think they’re looking for anyone else, they blocked off the option to even apply.”

“Which is why you should email ‘em. They gonna see that you serious about the shit. And if they do go forward with this person, they might got another unit they could offer you just like this one. It looks like this place is new.”

He’s got a point.

“Fine,” she sighs out, resigning to his idea.

Sure enough, she finds an email address for the apartment’s leasing office.

“It’s gonna work, I promise you. That’s how I got my place,” he says as she types out her message.

“Okay, listen to this.”

As she recites her message, he listens intently, seeking out any errors for her to fix. When she finishes, she watches him with bated breath as he thinks it over.

“Mmh … it’s good. Send it.”

“Okay,” she breathes out.

Within that second, she presses the send button on the email and watches it get whisked off to the recipient.

“I hope they get back to me soon,” she pouts, lying back against the couch as she looks over at him.

“Forreal.”

They’re both tired, it’s too obvious in the way their eyes droop and their bodies sag against the couch—likely leaving large indents of where they’d been.

“Ugh, I’m over this,” she says. Feeling a bit better about this whole ordeal, she shuts his laptop and places it back on the coffee table.

As she stands to stretch, Sito remains seated, tapping away at his phone.

“Not even gon’ lie … I’m fake tired, but … not tryna go to bed right now.”

He looks up at her through his glasses, eyeing the way the muscles in her legs flex as she stands on her toes. All these years later, and the history of running competitive track back in high school was still there.

He looks up at her face, seeing that she’s already been staring at him. He’s been caught.

Oops?

“What do you wanna do?” she asks as her arms drop to her sides.

“Not gon’ lie,” he drags out the word, contemplating on saying his idea out loud. “You tryna go live with me?”

Her brows raise. “Live, Sito?”

“It’s lowkey fun, sometimes.” He shrugs.

“Sometimes.” She scoffs. “People are mean online. And you have mad followers, I’m not tryna have all those people talk about me.”

“Please,” he waves off. “You gon’ be fine. I’m not letting them niggas talk about you.”

She looks at him, pressing her lips into a thin line as she weighs her options. “I be reading your comments sometimes, I don’t want none of your thirsty-ass fans saying nothing just ‘cause they see you with a girl.”

“Fans is crazy,” his voice muffled as he rubs a hand down his face. “Not worried about that.”

“Easy for you to say.”

He sits up in an instant, feeling a burst of energy. Standing, he grabs their near-empty cups in one hand and the wine bottle in the other.

“You wanna do it or not? Don’t be boring.”

He leaves the area to enter the kitchen. Setting the bottle down on the counter, he heads over to the sink.

“Are you peer-pressuring me?” Cimani follows after him.

He scoffs. “Yes,” he says, dumping out each glass before opening the pipe to wash it all down.

“That’s terrible.”

“Didn’t hear a ‘no,’ though.”

“That’s how peer-pressure works, dummy.”

The corner of his mouth up-turns. “Then I won.”

She rolls her eyes, crossing her arms. 

As he sets up to go live on his phone, clearing anything from his space that can be too revealing, Cimani raids his pantry for her favorite snack—Rice Krispie Treats.

The half-empty wine bottle is used as a phone-stand, as he’s too lazy to retrieve his actual one from his office. He sits before the device, at his counter-top, among one of the many bar stools usually tucked beneath it.

“I’m ’bout to start the live. If you don’t wanna be on, let me know and I won’t put you in it.” He opens up the app TikTok. “Just let me know when you wanna pass through so I could move the camera.”

She shakes her head as she swallows a bit of her snack. “I’ll be in it.”

He peers up at her with a raised eyebrow. “You sure?”

“Mhm.”

“Aight.”

Finally, he starts the live as she watches from behind the counter.

In the first couple of minutes, about three-hundred viewers roll in. He watches the screen, leaned forward on his elbows.

“What’s up, yall. What’s up … goodnight,” he greets.

The comments roll in, greeting him back. Some playfully berate him for the time he’s choosing to go live, claiming they have to miss this one because they have work in the morning, but they just wanted to stop in and say ‘hi.’ 

The views reach to a steady count of over five-hundred people.

“Came on here ‘cause I was bored, ain’t gon’ lie to y’all,” he says, readjusting his bonnet.

Cimani takes the last bite of her snack, crumbling up the wrapper into a little ball in her hand.

The soft crinkling earns his attention, as it had been the only sound while he read more comments. He peers at her over the wine bottle, the two watching each other for a very still, handful of seconds.

He’s the first one to break, quietly chuckling with a fist over his mouth as she smiles, throwing her garbage into the trash can.

His focus returns to the phone.

“‘He got a bonnet on … lawd, who gon’ be the boys?’” He kisses his teeth.

Cimani laughs, careful to keep the sound hushed.

“Man, we not doing that bullshit tonight.” He sits up straighter. “I got hair, and I need a line-up, chill.” He swipes his hand over his head. “Can’t even find none of my durags.”

The sound of Sito explaining himself becomes background noise as she opens his fridge for a bottle of water. The door closes on its own with a soft shut.

As she cracks the bottle open, she notices Sito watching her.

“They asking who in the back.”

She freezes, the cool bottle to her lips.

“They could hear you moving,” he laughs.

She swallows. “Oh, sorry.”

He shakes his head. “You good. Come in the camera,” he beckons her over.

She takes her time to close the bottle before setting in down. As he watches her, pushing back his stool some to allow space, he’s got a smile on his face.

He ignores the small burst in comments, questioning who he’s calling for off-screen.

When she finally joins his side, he pulls her to stand in front of him, before the camera. Holding her by her shoulders, he keeps her steady.

“Introduce yourself.”

“Um—“ she laughs shyly. “Hi,” she waves.

The comments pour in, complimenting her and asking for her name. If there were an insult or two, none of them catch it.

“She being shy, y’all—“

“Shut up—“

“This is ‘Mani.”

“Oh my God,” she gasps, lifting a hand to her head. “Why didn’t you tell me about my hair,” she whines, trying to smooth down the flyaways of her silky bob.

He pulls back, eyes scouring her head for any imperfections he might’ve overlooked.

“Ain’t nothing wrong with it.”

Reaching up, he smooths out the back of her head to make sure that all of her hairs fall straight.

“So why’re you fixing it?” she pouts.

“Chill … just tryna make you straight in the back.”

When it’s finally good enough for him, he returns his attention to the Live’s comments. 

“Yeah, she pretty, right?” 

“They’re actually nice,” she says quietly, her fingers pressed into her lips.

He hums. “Told you, you was gonna be good.” 

Beneath the surface of the bar table, he toys with the fraying of her shorts against her outer thigh. The ticklish touches pull goosebumps up from her skin.

“Um, how was you guys’ day?” She giggles nervously.

Her laugh gets a soft smile out of him. Still eyeing her body, he slips the tip of his finger beneath the leg of her shorts.

“You don’t wanna come up outta these?”

The question catches her off guard, admittedly. She looks down at him, already seeing him stare up at her.

“I … don’t have any clothes over.”

Her voice is quiet, hoping the viewers don’t hear her. She isn’t the most sure of Sito’s reputation online, and she certainly wouldn’t want to ruin it.

“Just take one’a my sweats.”

His voice is noticeably louder, even clearer, than hers.

So, he just doesn’t give a fuck? Got it.

She just nods, recentering her focus back on the live.

“So … we did some shopping today,” he says from behind her. “I ain’t get nothing crazy, just a pair of shoes.” His hands rest on the countertop on either side of her, keeping her in place. “Tell ‘em what you got.” 

“I don’t even remember everything I got.” 

“Oh, wait, you should show ‘em.” He peers from her to the screen. “Y’all tryna see a haul?”

There are too many ’yes’s to count. And it makes her heart race. 

“Sh-should I try them on?”

He shrugs, sitting back in his chair to give her space to leave. “It’s up to you.”

“Alright, um … I’m gonna get the bags.”

As she leaves, Sito monitors the comments, making sure his moderators were doing their job.

User23567907796 So r yall friends orrrr ..

User99645663265 Did I miss a chapter?????

User44666321677 Umm hard launch?🤔

User33561123230 She bad asf tho icl

With every question he answers, there’s a dejected tone in his voice.

“Did you miss a chapter?” He shakes his head. “Nah. You ain’t miss nothing … we friends.” With a finger, he pushes his glasses up the bridge of his nose. “‘She bad’ … Yeah, she get fly.”

Any comment regarding his looks or trying to spit game at him is left unacknowledged. 

Minutes later, Cimani returns with her bags of purchased items. To which, Sito offers up his seat. She takes it, sitting before the camera.

“Um, I got more clothes than anything,” she starts. “I got one pair of shoes but that’s it. I—“

“Show ‘em,” he says from behind, peering down at her.

She glances back at him. “Huh?”

“Show ‘em the shoes first.”

“Oh, yeah.” Bending down, she rifles through one of the bags to retrieve the box. Balancing it on her lap, she’s careful when taking out the brand new, shiny right foot to her pink Bapestas.

“We got them from a reseller shop,” she says as she shows it off to the camera.

Silently, he reaches out from behind her to assist her in correctly positioning the shoe for the viewers to see.

“Gotta make sure it’s in focus,” he says softly.

“Oh.”

Neither of them read the comments, gushing over how this is clearly her first time interacting with a large audience. 

“You guys see it?” she asks.

“They see it, Mami.”

Her cheeks ache from how long she’s been able to hold a smile. But she can’t stop. Even when she tries to lose it, it’s like the muscles in her face are permanently fixed in this expression.

“Okay,” she says softly, putting the shoe away. “Um … I’m gonna do the clothes now,” she says, looking between the bags to decide which to start on first.

As she scans through each bag, she worries her bottom lip. Would they even find this interesting?

“Start with that one.”

She looks up in time to see him nodding at a large, pale pink bag. Wordlessly, she reaches in, retrieving the first item: a soft white, milk maid style dress.

“Sito actually picked this one out, for me,” she tells the viewers as she holds it up for them. “I accepted, ‘cause it’s close to my style, honestly.”

As she continues showing off her brand new items to the audience, moving through each store, Sito notes her increasing comfort.

Eventually, he even leaves the camera to let her do her own thing. It’s endearing, watching her speak to the viewers. Showing off everything he bought her. Seeing the way her eyes light up with each item, as if she hadn’t been holding them just a few hours before.

As he holds a water bottle, having gotten it from the fridge, he decides that looking at this scene before him—that he likes this. He really likes this.

He’d made the perfect decisions for her, picking out clothes that not only would she like, but would fit her well. That would compliment her.

“I’m not really sure how much all of this was, I can’t lie,” Cimani laughs, answering a frequently asked question among the Live comments.

Rounding the counter, Sito is back in front of the camera with her.

“No, y’all—Sito bought me all these.”

The admitted truth was uttered with an air of shyness. Maybe she was worried about the reaction she’d garner—rightfully so.

And yet, Sito couldn’t find it within himself to care. In fact, he actually felt a seed of pride blossom within him.

Watching the comments roll in, his nose twitches as he reads over one in particular. Her catches it just as Cimani gets up out of the chair.

User2293902682 Better watch out for these females theyll use u

His face twists into a scowl. “Nigga shut the fuck up.” He reclaims his seat before the camera. “I hate a bitchass nigga that just talks.” He kisses his teeth. “Somebody ban that nigga.”

“You’re about to get banned, if you keep cursing like that,” she jokes. “What’d they even say?”

“Don’t worry about it.” Looking over his shoulder at her, he notes the large Alo bag in her hand, looking as though she’s about to leave. “Where you going?”

“I wanted to try on the set you got me. Remember? I didn’t get to try it on in-store.”

He hums, turning back around to look at the live.

Running into his room, she hurries to pull out the grey, cotton ribbed Alo set. She’d always been between sizes. She can only hope that they bought the right size.

Slipping into the set, it feels wonderful against her skin. Her hands spread over her body, feeling over the smooth fabric. The crisp tags dangle from the bra top and leggings.

She pads over to the large mirror staged in the corner of Sito’s room. The set hugs her small frame, even bringing out the faint curve of her hips and the cuff of her small butt.

Staring at her reflection, she can do nothing but smile. 

When she can finally pull herself away from the mirror and out of the room, she re-emerges with a pep in her step.

“Look!”

Sito turns around to see her in her new set. 

“I’m surprised the extra-small fits! I thought I would’ve needed smaller.”

As she gets closer to him, he moves the phone just a few inches over to let the Live see.

“Y’all, look! Isn’t it cute?”

Sat back in his seat, an arm perched on the armrest of the stool, Sito’s cheek is pressed against his knuckles. As Cimani spins and poses for the viewers, he watches on as well. 

Behind the lenses of his undoubtedly expensive frames, his dark eyes run up and down her body. He notes the figure-hugging material, how it makes her butt look just a little perkier.

“Yeah … it’s cute, Mami.”

The words had flowed smoothly from his lips without much of a thought.

“Yeah,” she agrees softly, looking at him with a gentle smile as she toys with the waistband of the leggings. 

The longer he stares, he notices the slight twist in the seam along her butt.

“Come,” he motions over. “Lemme fix it.”

She looks over at him, doe eyes wide with confusion. “What’s wrong?”

She doesn’t wait for an answer as she enters his space, sliding in between his spread legs. 

“The pants is twisted.”

His touch is soft and careful. He barely tugs at the waist band to fix it, while also pulling them up an inch higher. His hands smooth down the sides of her hips, coming to rest at their widest part.

“It’s good now?” she asks, peering down at him.

Licking his lips, he peers up at her. “Yeah.”

Seconds seem to fly by as they stare into each other’s eyes. Cimani is the first to look away, distracting herself with the Live comments.

She gasps, covering her mouth with a hand. “Oh my gosh. They’re going so fast.”

Turning his head, he finally looks back at the Live. He tries to read what he can catch. And from what he can see, damn near all of the comments are about his touchiness regarding his best friend. 

Yet, he still doesn’t pull his hands away.

In fact, his arms encircle her small waist, keeping her in place as he leans against her. 

“I can’t even read them.” She laughs as she passes a hand over his head, feeling the curves of his cornrows beneath the bonnet’s satin.

User282884928 Yall sure yall just friends??

User9298392792I wish my boy bsf treated me to a shopping spree 🙄

User0829927881Are we interrupting🤨

User104882929Jus looked at my bestie and sighed.

She seems to catch the final comment, laughing at the joke. 

“Oh,” she gasps, jumping out of his hold. “The outfit I made—with the skirt? I need to see it.”

Before he can respond, she’s running back to the room with more bags.

As she’s gone, in the mean time, Sito is putting his focus back in the live. There’s mini updates he provides to his audience, informing them on progressions of small tidbits about his life he entails in his TikTok videos.

As he’s talking to them with mild interest, Cimani finally resurfaces.

“I hate to admit it, but you were right about the cardigan.”

He turns his head to see her standing in the hallway that leads to his room. She’s halfway revealed, the lower half of her body hidden in the shadows.

He spins his chair to see her. “Lemme see?”

She steps a few inches forward. The cardigan is stylishly baggy on her, the top button left undone to show subtle cleavage. Its vibrant color pairs wonderfully with the skirt she’d found.

And speaking of said skirt; as she does a little twist, his first impression of the item is confirmed before his very eyes. If she were to bend down even an inch, her ass would be out. 

Granted, she doesn’t have all that much to show off, but the skirt sits pertly on her brown cheeks, teasing at a show. 

“Oh, you can’t show ‘em that,” he says, chasing his phone for it to lay flat on the counter. 

His audience gets a front-row seat to his tall ceilings.

“Come.”

She ambles over to him without hesitation.

“It’s cute right?” she asks, filing back in between his legs.

“You know it is.” Thoughtlessly, he reaches out and cards his fingers between hers, gripping her hand tight. “Didn’t need me to pick it out for you.”

She laughs, the apples of her cheeks lifted to the heavens above. He’s staring at her lips, unabashedly so. There’s a haze to his eyes, he isn’t the most present right now.

How much restraint is he practicing to keep himself from spinning her around and pulling her smaller body on his lap?

Better yet, how much restraint is he practicing that he’s only now picturing just how easy it would be to have her bouncing on his dick?

It would be nothing, she’s so light. He’d be the only controlling her, doing all the work while she just takes it—all of him. Probably crying about how she can’t take it, but about how good it feels. Her cute ass cheeks dropping over his lap. How deep her arch—

“You look pretty, Mami.”

Her brown face is flushed. He can see it.

“Thanks.” She really can’t stop smiling.

“Don’t gotta thank me.” He lets go of her hand to snake his around her waist, cradling the small of her back.

Her expression barely drops for a second as she remembers the Live. “Did you end it?” 

She twists to look at his phone, slightly bending to read the screen.

It’s inevitable, he catches a glimpse of her panties beneath the skirt—a pale, lilac thong that disappears between her cheeks. Yet, he sees the patch of it that covers her.

He swears, it was only a second … but that was the longest second of his life. Time must’ve slowed, because he can recall the barest details of her body. Down to the outline of her lips through the thin cotton. So small and cute in size, like a little pocket.

A burst of heat runs throughout his body.

“Hey, guys,” he hears her say. 

But the Live be damned. Scrubbing a hand down his face, he releases a tired sigh. “Aight, I’m done,” he croaks.

She slips the phone in his hand. He’s the only one filling the screen now, the comments begging for more of Cimani—and asking about that “moment” they just had.

“I’m done talking to y’all niggas.”

With two quick taps of a thumb, he cuts the live off.

“Awe,” Cimani pouts. “That was fun.”

Lifting his arms above his head, he stretches, the bones in his shoulders popping and cracking as he does so. “Mmph—was getting … tired of that shit.”

“Okay, well, bed-time I guess,” she smiles.

“Yeah,” he says, looking elsewhere.

“Help me bring the rest of the bags back in the room?”

Silently, he pulls himself to stand. Together, they bring the bags into his room, positing them in the corner near the mirror.

Getting ready for bed was a smooth process. He’d given her a pair of clothes to sleep in for the night—a large black tee, a random pair of shorts, and an unused pair of boxers he’d recently bought (even though she had to roll them up at the waist to be able to wear them). They showered and brushed their teeth in separate bathrooms, meeting back up in his bed for the night.

“Why this look like my bonnet?” Cimani asks, analyzing the small, satin black bonnet he had passed her.

“It is,” he chuckles, slowly climbing into bed next to her. “You left it over there from last time.”

“Oh.”

With ease, Sito pulls the comforter up high, shielding them from the cool temperature of his room. They don’t go to bed right away, that’s never a reality for either of them.

In fact, they sit up against the soft, fluffy pillows, scrolling through any social media app that catches their attention at the time. They aren’t particularly quiet, either. Cimani plays TikToks quite loudly on her phone, while Sito does his nightly scroll through Twitter.

This grown-up form of adjacent play continues for almost half-an-hour before Sito closes his phone. Setting the device down against his chest, he turns to look at her as she laughs at yet another video.

“Yo, you booked that appointment yet?”

“Huh?” Her focus bounces back and forth between him and the phone. “What, for my lashes?”

“Yeah.” His voice is heavy with fatigue.

“No, Sito,” she stresses, as if this current conversation is an inconvenience to her nightly entertainment.

“Why?”

She sucks her teeth, rolling her eyes as she finally puts the phone down. “Do you wanna do it now?”

Lazily, he shrugs. “Better now than later.”

“Fine,” she sighs, feigning annoyance.

“Yeah, okay,” he side-eyes her. “Matter fact—book the nail appointment first.”

Switching to her Instagram, Cimani pulls up her nail tech’s page to get to her booking site, one tap at a time.

“Hurry up—“

“Don’t rush me.”

Now it’s his turn to roll his eyes. Reaching over, Sito plucks the device from her grasp.

“Hey—“

“Moving too slow.”

Her upper lip screws up in distaste. Nevertheless, she saddles up to his side, watching him fill out her information for the appointment.

“How ya toes look?” He asks, side-eyeing her as his finger hovers over the ‘package’ section.

“Oh my gosh,” she whines, covering her mouth with her hand. “So bad.”

“Lemme see.”

“No!”

He sucks his teeth and gives her a pointed look. “‘Mani.”

“Okay, but don’t say anything!”

Underneath the covers, her leg shifts. She throws it over his hip. Reaching beneath the comforter, Sito blindly fishes for her small foot. Holding her soft sole in hand, he lifts her leg some and pushes down the covers just a bit to examine her toes.

There’s nothing wrong with them. Her white, gel polish is just chipped, but nothing terrible. And even with the old paint job, she still has cute feet. Nothing wrong with them at all.

“Yeah, you need ‘em done.”

“Boy, fuck you.”

“Mmh,” he hums with a one-sided grin.

The appointment is booked with ease before he passes the phone back. “Now book that lash appointment.”

As she does so, he retrieves his phone to continue his twitter scroll.

All the while, her foot remains in his hand, playing with her toes and even massaging her sole. And neither of them say anything about it, enjoying the moment too much to have mention of it mess things up.

Honestly, ‘Mani’s glad that she doesn’t have to outwardly acknowledge it. How can she even explain to him how much she enjoys his gentle touch?

Eventually, it lulls her to sleep. 

Tonight is the first night in a while, that she doesn’t go to bed worried about her future.

ᥫ᭡

MIDNIGHT BLUE OR TORTOISE SHELL BROWN?

Cimani is confident in her ability to make good decisions. She isn’t indecisive, and for as long as she can remember, has never needed anyone to decide anything for her.

She’s prideful about that.

However, swiping back and forth between the two inspo-pictures she’d found from her Pinterest, her bottom lip is caught between her silver-tracked teeth.

It seems her decisiveness has abandoned her.

She wets her lips before speaking. “Sito?”

“Hm?” He hums around his plastic straw.

Stretching an arm over the console, she shows him her screen, looking him in the eyes with a light frown on her two-toned lips. A finger swipes back and forth between the two images.

“Which one?”

Thick brows pull together as his brain struggles to catch up with her rushed thinking. Still sucking down his sprite, he reaches out for the phone, putting a halt to her quick swiping.

She relinquishes her device to him. As he takes the phone, he takes his time to look at each photo. 

Cimani eyes him carefully for a few seconds, then the phone, as if trying to observe them in the same way he does. Then she looks back at him.

“C’mon, which one?”

The urgency in her voice doesn’t make him choose any faster. His cheeks cave in as he only keeps drinking.

She sucks her teeth, sitting back in her car seat with folded arms.

He swallows. “Blue.” He tosses the device into her lap, turning his attention back on the parked car in front of them.

“What? What’s wrong with the brown?” She scrapes her phone up, looking back at the photo of the brown acrylics. “It’s different.”

The ice in his cup tumbles around as he rests his cup in one of the twin cup-holders. 

“You asked my opinion—” He covers his mouth with a fist as a soft burp leaves him.

“I know, but—the brown’s cute!” She pouts, peering back at the blue nails.

“The blue would look better with your skin.”

He’s got a point. Sito has always thought that rich or saturated colors fit her deep brown skin so well. But, he keeps that thought to himself.

He pulls out his phone, copy-and-pasting the address she’d sent him earlier, into his Apple Maps.

She’s not so quick to respond this time, looking down at her screen with furrowed brows and a deeper frown.

“I feel like I should get the brown.“

“‘Mani—“

“No, I’m gonna get the brown! I really feel like it’ll be good.” She reaches across the console again to steal a fry from his bag of food. Before he can smack her hand away, she snatches it back. With a triumphant smile on her spit-shined lips, she pops it in her mouth.

He remains quiet, pressing his own lips together as he starts the GPS for her nail tech’s location.

It’s only about a twenty minute ride, it would’ve been shorter, but Sito had decided that it would be a good idea to get food beforehand. She found herself agreeing with his decision when they pulled into the drive-thru. 

With only ten minutes left of the drive, Cimani is presenting her phone to him at a stop light, once again. 

“Which one?”

He’s ready to give an honest answer, until he sees that it’s the nails, again.

He kisses his teeth. “Bro—“

“I’m not your bro. Now which?”

His eyes switch back and forth between the red light and her changing screen. “Wha—that one.” He tries to point, just as he lifts his hand, the light turns green.

“This one?” She smiles, swiping back to the brown.

He waits until she swipes back and lingers a second too long on the blue acrylics. “No—get that one.”

“Ugh!”

He sighs quietly to himself. “I don’t know why you keep asking me. Already told you which one to get…”

For a short moment, she quietly taps away at her phone. He almost thinks she’s ignoring him. “I like the tortoise shell one better.”

That’s where the conversation ends. 

With a practiced perfection, Sito parallel parks into an empty spot right in front of Cimani’s nail tech’s studio.

“Thank you,” she sings, slinging her mini-purse over her slender shoulder.

“Mhm,” he says, putting the car in park. Sitting back in his seat, he pulls his phone back out.

The soft ding of her phone chimes just as the back of it flashes with light. She quickly glances at the screen as she opens the car door. 

An Apple Cash from Sito, for $230.

She peers back at him over her shoulder with pursed lips.

“Get the blue,” he mumbles, still on his phone.

“Whatever.” 

She steps out of the car, shutting the door behind her.

•

He doesn’t jump when the car door suddenly opens. Cimani made sure to text him five minutes before she finished, to give him a heads-up. 

In fact, he’s pretty sure she was texting him throughout her entire appointment. If she wasn’t actually texting him, she was sending him Tiktoks or Reels/posts.

And if he dared to complain—not that he would—she would guilt trip him for being a bad “best friend” to her. 

The last time she’d said that, as he was taking her to her gynecologist appointment, he only scoffed. 

“Sitooo,” she sings, plopping into her designated seat in his Audi. “I’m back! Did you miss me?”

He side-eyes her, his gaze heading straight for her hand that clutches her phone. Wrapped around the device are perfectly shaped, long square, ombré blue acrylics.

Exactly.

“Yeah,” he says simply, turning the car back on.

“Better have.” She fixes her legging after they’d ridden up her thighs. “Where we going now?”

He scoffs. “I’m taking you home, I got shit to do.”

Her face falls. “What?”

“Yeah,” he chuckles, putting the car into drive.

“So I can’t come?” She scowls.

He doesn’t even have to look over at her to see it. “‘Cause it’s some boring ass shit. M’not gonna keep you couped up in the car.”

“So? We do errands together all the time!” In a flash, a deep furrow wrinkles her brows. “Where you going that I can’t come?”

“Bro, you know you’re gonna complain if I keep you bored in here.”

She fully turns her body to face him, crossing her arms. “If you’re going to see Jada, you could just say that.”

He only exhales, focusing on the road ahead of them. And his silence washes away her anger. Cimani’s brows smoothen out as they pull apart, and her pout is back.

“Sito,” she whines. “Are you serious?”

He glances at her, seeing the sadness on her face.

Quickly putting on his turn signal, he switches lanes. “Stop bringing her up. I don’t even talk to her no more.”

“So where are you going?” 

He wants to laugh, he almost does. She sounds like a kid, begging to tag along.

“I’m just going to the shop, get my shit fixed,” he gestures to his head.

She eyes his braids with a scowl, noting his outgrown hairline. “Your hair looks fine to me. Who the fuck are you fixing it up for?”

The corner of his mouth quirks up as he scoffs. “You, before you start cuttin’ my ass about needing a line-up.”

She hums before looking out of the window, seeing the familiar buildings of her neighborhood. “Yeah, you do need to fix that.”

He kisses his teeth. “See? But you just said my shit was fine.”

“I don’t care.”

He rolls his eyes. “But I gotta go take my cousin to pick up his car from the mechanic after.”

“Excuses,” she mutters.

“You being bratty.” He keeps his eyes trained on the road. 

“And you’re being weird, like we don’t hang out all the time.” Finally, she turns to him. “What’s so different this time?”

“‘Cause I gotta get my cousin,” he kisses his teeth. “I’d rather it just be us, to be honest.”

Cimani keeps quiet at that. Her silence earns her a quick glance.

“I’m sorry, aight?”

No answer.

“I’ll call you tonight.”

She rolls her eyes, still yet unsatisfied with the outcome of this all. Sighing, Sito settles for her silence that comes with what’s left of their ride.

As he finally pulls up to the front of her apartment, he unlocks her door.

“Thanks for the ride,” she says quietly, grabbing her bag.

“‘Mani.”

She addresses him with a pointed look, like he’s wasting her time.

“C’mon, bro. Stop acting like that, please.”

When she exhales, her tense shoulders deflate. Her eyes fall elsewhere, unable to look him in the eyes. “Okay.”

He raises his brows, leaning towards her. “You gon’ call me tonight?”

“Yes,” she rolls her eyes.

He sits back in his seat, quite satisfied with that answer. He’s even got a small grin on his face. “Thank you.”

Even with her frustrations against him, she stretches over the console and throws an arm around his shoulders for a close hug. As always, she pushes her small face in the warm crook of his neck. He doesn’t hesitate to wrap an arm around her torso, rubbing her back. 

“You better not be out all night.”

He fights a shudder back as her lips fluttered against his skin with her softly spoken warning.

“Y’know I won’t.”

The deep rumble of his voice does something to her chest, it makes her feel weak.

After a couple of seconds, they finally pull apart, and before he knows it, she’s out of the car and shutting the door.

He doesn’t pull off until he sees her reach inside the building.

PART 2 HERE

TAGLIST • @wintrrxxo @vibewshyla @icanmakethedickstandup @toji-dabi-wife @genea-myers @whoareyouuuo @thegoatedaries @nova2kss @thecoochiefairy @plutobratz @levibabymama @bubblegum-lollipop @junitries @thevelvetwhispers @pussypinkdoll @venusincleo @soupersaldz @synicalslut

BANNERS • @cursed-carmine | @adornedwithlight & @cafekitsune

just decide today.

it doesn’t have to be tomorrow, it doesn’t have to be within the next hour, it doesn’t have to be within the next minute. just decide you truly have what you want right now and thats it, creation really is finished, your success story is created, you have what you want all after that decision. so congratulate yourself. what’re you scared of? failure? it doesn’t exist, leave the world alone, the how, what, when, where is NONE of your business. you do not question if you are doing it right, it will only lead to a spiral then a loop. break the old story, get out of your comfort zone (the old story). your decision today could change your life for the better, you CAN, YES YOU CAN, wake up with everything overnight, yes YOU CAN, have everything within a second, YES YOU CAN, have it within the next hour, but you should NEVER wait. again making that decision automatically makes it done. you don’t wait, you don’t hope, you don’t wish, you don’t desire, you just know. thats the key, knowing. knowing and acceptance in imagination. be bold, dare to assume your wildest dreams. slam the door on negative thoughts, slam the door on anything that doesn’t serve you. just decide, stop asking the same things over and over, the answers are within, stop searching outside, looking within. trust imagination, trust god (you), have faith in the unseen. walk by faith not by sight. you ARE the universe. time doesn’t exist and it never did.

its been a great short time i’ve been on tumblr but i’ve given you all your information you need, everyone has. you just need to apply, i’ll see you at the finish line real soon, actually what am i talking about? you’re already there?. my account will be up until i decide to deactivate it. everything starts and ends with you.

Can you give me some motivation

You have it. You don't need motivation because you already have it.

➳༻❀YOU ALREADY HAVE YOUR DESIRES❀༺➳

you already have your desires the moment you say you do, so congratulate yourself you finally made it the end! don’t ask “where is it” don’t ask “how” because you simply have all it in imagination. imagination is your source make it your home! fall in love with it, i won’t even call it desires anymore because you claimed them so now they’re just part of your daily life! for example if you say “I have 70 million dollars” then wow you have 70 million dollars! in imagination. go experience having 70 million dollars in imagination and know that you now have 70 million dollars. if you’re the person to think feeling is key then also feel as if you have 70 million dollars. don’t think against it don’t even complain saying “ugh im so broke” don’t do that, all you have to do is acknowledge you have it in imagination then relax and move on with your day, persist in that assumption, persistence doesn’t mean affirm until you’re tired, or affirm to “make things come faster” or to just try to get something in the 3D. its just not taking NO for an answer. its not affirm until you get its affirm as you see it. you’re the one who controls the when, where and how. if you’re letting the 3D do that for you then you won’t see any change, this is why we always say make your own rules for reality. MY rules are very simple.

have a desire , give it to myself in the 4D, persist and affirm in imagination.

its that simple! you don’t need to make manifesting feel like a chore, because in reality you’re not manifesting ANYTHING, you’re switching your awareness to something you already have. in simpler terms you’re just remembering that you have what you want already. to live in the end always always ALWAYSSS go to the end goal in imagination. you don’t need to focus on progress because manifesting is never a progress. its all instant. i’m not one to care about self-concept because i became a master at manifesting with a dull self concept. if you think you need self concept feel free to use it! remember its just my beliefs. manifesting is supposed to be fun and easy, don’t limit yourself to only one assumption, you can make a billion assumptions if you want and you will immediately have them all in imagination because inner man is the one that truly matters. the 3D is a mirror to the 4D so your success is inevitable. meaning you’re 100% guaranteed success! because you as god are in deserving of a paradise life. (sorry to the religious people if you don’t like being called god). just relax and breathe now, your suffering and misery are finally over now, you have what you once wanted, now live life without fear or panic, you have it, it’s already done. always look within for proof.

How I always induce the void state + what you’re doing wrong.

i’ve induced the void state at least 7 times from what i remember, yes i manifested my dream life, you might wonder why i’m on tumblr yapping my brain out about what manifesting is and whatever it’s because im here to try to help some of you, i want you to be successful just like me. so try to understand this post.

the way i successfully induce the void is by just deciding that i do, and since that assumption hardened into fact already it just basically means for me i can always induce it when i want and where i want. you can literally become just like me and all it takes is a simple decision and a flip in thoughts, whoever said it takes some serious repetition to get into the void is wrong imo, but thats okay! because we all have different assumptions and beliefs and that’s totally normal, the world won’t end because you think it takes months to finally induce a state that you’re always in.

now here’s what you’re doing wrong, you’re wavering, you’re contradicting yourself, you aren’t trusting yourself, you’re panicking, you’re rushing, you’re in “waiting” mode, you’re seeing the void state as something it isn’t, you think its the key, you’re dependent on it, you’re overthinking it and probably other things but those were just the stuff i could probably assume about you. stop doing all of those things i listed because i promise you inducing the void state is literally the easiest thing you can do. “well why haven’t i induced it yet?” because you keep assuming you cant. “well i don’t assume that i can’t i just can never induce it” well you just said you couldn’t what are you talking about? remember whatever you say is true so you saying you aren’t inducing the void no matter what is true. please read @salemlunaa ‘s post about reaffirming failure. because that is what majority of you are doing.

stop falling back into your old cycle the old story is dead it does NOT serve you anymore. make that decision you’re a “void state master” and literally watch how your reality changes, just be a void state master in imagination because again imagination creates, stay firm to your new story or assumption and don’t think against it. you have always been a void state master. you just need to bring your awareness to that fact.

i never hear anyone talk about how overwhelming it can be to wake up with your desires one day after so long, i’ll speak about my void state success story, when i first entered it. i wont tell you what i manifested since i explained it to an ask. yeah waking up after doing the void state and getting all you want is a pleasant thing but can we talk about how overwhelming it is to literally have you reality just shifts like that? because when i woke up the next morning after inducing the void state my heart genuinely stopped for about 10 seconds and i’m not even exaggerating, because everything was just different? i wasn’t in the same room i was before. LIKE LITERALLY WHEN I WOKE UP I FORGOT I HAD MUSIC PLAYING THE OTHER NIGHT AND RIBS JUST STARTED PLAYING out of nowhere. i like to think of ribs (the song guys) as a new beginnings song, even though the song symbolizes bittersweet memories and friendship. the new beginnings feeling is just my personal feeling. so as ribs was playing i started crying hard on the spot. congratulating myself for reaching this huge milestone, i took in my new environment and cried harder, i sound dramatic but thats just how it was for me. i was shaking and not from fear just from extreme excitement. when i went look in the mirror i cried so much more, everything about me just screamed different, i’m sorry i keep repeating “different” so much because thats literally what it was. everything was just different. i kept repeating to myself “please don’t let this be a dream” over and over, doing everything i can so i’d be sure it wasn’t a dream, when i accepted it wasn’t a dream i went scream into my pillow and started jumping around my brand new room like a hyperactive puppy. thoughts were running everywhere “oh the new memories i’ll make” “i’m finally happy” “its over now” “i can’t wait to see what this new life has in store for me”. i didn’t touch my phone the entire day after waking up with a brand new reality. i barely touch my phone now but i still try to help people on tumblr so they can finally accept their power. i’m not saying i woke up with a terrible/bad overwhelming feeling it was more of a “oh my god theres no way” type of overwhelming feeling. i wanted to share my void state success story with the world but from seeing some liars that were caught (no im not a liar) i was scared people would deem me as a liar because they would “demand” proof. or assume “im lying for attention”. but no this is me coming to you with full honesty that i’ve manifested my dream life, i can still be on social media but that doesn’t automatically make me a liar. if you truly believed in LOA then you wouldn’t have to dwell on solely getting proof for your own satisfaction to really know the law is real. THE LAW IS REAL, THE VOID STATE IS REAL, YOU ARE ALWAYS PURE CONSCIOUSNESS, IMAGINATION IS EVERYTHING, SHIFTING IS REAL, MANIFESTING IS REAL, YES YOU CAN MANIFEST WHATEVER YOU WANT, YOU ARE LIMITLESS.

live in imagination, stop looking for more information, stop starting over, stop giving up, stop doubting, stop looking for the 3D for proof, look within for proof. time isn’t real but yes your clock is ticking, break the pattern or the loop WILL repeat tomorrow. you’re destined for success.

so you’re telling me you can manifest..

a dragon

a unicorn

a robot that does anything for you

homework doing itself

being a shapeshifter

powers

re-writing history

revise the president winner

being able to grab food through the screen

being a mermaid

a ghost friend

and literally anything you want and all it takes is an assumption?? guys please stop thinking you’re limited, you can literally manifest ANYTHING😭 just trust yourself, because i can make a list of illogical things i’ve manifested, and YOU can also!

just decide today.

it doesn’t have to be tomorrow, it doesn’t have to be within the next hour, it doesn’t have to be within the next minute. just decide you truly have what you want right now and thats it, creation really is finished, your success story is created, you have what you want all after that decision. so congratulate yourself. what’re you scared of? failure? it doesn’t exist, leave the world alone, the how, what, when, where is NONE of your business. you do not question if you are doing it right, it will only lead to a spiral then a loop. break the old story, get out of your comfort zone (the old story). your decision today could change your life for the better, you CAN, YES YOU CAN, wake up with everything overnight, yes YOU CAN, have everything within a second, YES YOU CAN, have it within the next hour, but you should NEVER wait. again making that decision automatically makes it done. you don’t wait, you don’t hope, you don’t wish, you don’t desire, you just know. thats the key, knowing. knowing and acceptance in imagination. be bold, dare to assume your wildest dreams. slam the door on negative thoughts, slam the door on anything that doesn’t serve you. just decide, stop asking the same things over and over, the answers are within, stop searching outside, looking within. trust imagination, trust god (you), have faith in the unseen. walk by faith not by sight. you ARE the universe. time doesn’t exist and it never did.

its been a great short time i’ve been on tumblr but i’ve given you all your information you need, everyone has. you just need to apply, i’ll see you at the finish line real soon, actually what am i talking about? you’re already there?. my account will be up until i decide to deactivate it. everything starts and ends with you.

. ۪ ֗ “ 𝑁𝑜—𝐺𝑒𝑡 𝑇ℎ𝑎𝑡 𝑂𝑛𝑒 ”⋆˚🫧

𝘊𝘩𝘢𝘳𝘢𝘤𝘵𝘦𝘳 𝘝𝘪𝘴𝘶𝘢𝘭𝘻…

𝘊𝘪𝘮𝘢𝘯𝘪 𝘙𝘪𝘤𝘩𝘢𝘳𝘥𝘴 — 24

𝘚𝘪𝘵𝘰 𝘉𝘭𝘢𝘤𝘬𝘸𝘦𝘭𝘭 — 25

He angles his phone away from his face, just so she won’t catch it when he hides his mouth with a closed fist. Because there’s no way…

He presses his lips together, trying to keep a grin at bay. His call had definitely interrupted something.

Slowly, he inhales, trying to settle himself. “I’m bothering you, ‘Mani?”

Her exhale is loud, he can tell she had breathed out through her mouth. “Hah—no.”

“I’m not?”

“N-no, Sito.”

The frail tremble in her voice does something to him. He inhales deeply.

“Aight, I’ma trust you… When you get your lashes done, get that wispy shit. I’ll give you the money.”

“Okay—“

The softest whimper hits his ears. It takes a few seconds before he can continue.

“Aight, I’ma send it to you.” He licks his lips, looking at the still screen. “When you getting ya toes done?”

“I-I don’t know, Sito.” Her voice is soft, almost whiny.

“Lemme pay for those, too.”

Coming Soon…

Banners by @cafekitsune & @saradika-graphics

Taglist — @wintrrxxo @vibewshyla @icanmakethedickstandup @toji-dabi-wife @genea-myers @whoareyouuuo @thegoatedaries @nova2kss @thecoochiefairy @plutobratz @levibabymama @bubblegum-lollipop @junitries @thevelvetwhispers @pussypinkdoll @venusincleo

if you want to learn a bit more about BRAINWAVES/BINAURAL BEATS and want to use them to help you manifest/enter the void state/shift realities:

-> xx, xx, xx (my summary of those posts)

so last night, i was laying on my stomach (which i usually dont do) then all of a sudden i was paralyzed and couldnt open my eyes. I heard one of kay flocks music (hes in one of my drs) and another one of sb songs then i appeared or woke up at my elevator i pressed it and it said it was updating and did something trippy so i went to the stairs everything felt wobbly and my head was spinning.after that i woke up. did i shift or did i just had a dream

(In my personal opinion i feel like i was dreaming)

FINALLY COMING TO REALIZATION

( if you don’t want to read the whole thing which I don’t blame you lol scroll down to the last bit <3 )

I have officially decided that i have everything i want and don’t care if the 3d shows me different because i know it’s not real. i am done entertaining the old story. I have stopped caring about irrelevant things . I’m living as the person who has already has it. if i got it in imagination then im good. i have became the person i always wanted to be.

that was a little vaunt/rant i wanted to say before i get into what i really want to talk about. I have came to the realization that i have been wasting time and energy into methods. (If you like/love doing methods and it works for you then keep continuing to do so <3) I tried meditating , the lullaby method,yoga nidra and so much more. when i found another method i gave up on the method doing before and went to the next. I even went back to the previous methods that did not work for me the first time desperately hoping that they would work. I was seeing angel numbers everyday multiple times (still do) so that was giving me hope. There were times i would get frustrated with the void/the law and just cry. Now im going to tell you what i personally think held me back ( btw i no longer identify with these things anymore!) i always used to procrastinate a lot and i would give myself these lectures and still did the same thing i told myself I was not going to do. I started getting more into states i found it interesting kinda. I even made an alter ego ( Miss Arianna Avalyń) that did help me with confidence I still use avalyń time from time. all Im really trying to say is the power is not in the method but its within YOU. I thought I had to affirm for hours or certain amount of time for the affirmations to really work but now I consider affirming once saturating my mind because it repeats a zillion times. I made my own rules. I’ve gotten into the state of knowing I already have what I want and don’t have to do anything else. most important part⇩

To make this simpler : YOU have all the power and control. YOU make the rules. YOU are God. everything starts and ends with YOU. YOU are limitless and YOU can do this <3 !

Rave & Star <3 .

women in male fields

when you believe you are HER, everyone else has no choice but to conform love…

“she thinks she’s all that”

SO DO YOU, who am i to not serve you such a high level of confidence? what you think of me has nothing to do with me, but to perceive me on that level? i’ll take it!

💋 don’t take this projection lightly, people are observing and consuming your untouchable aura. always walk into the room like you were BEGGED to be there by dozens even though you have way better things to do.. allow yourself to be the important star

sn/

♡ carry yourself always with kindness, but that does not mean you cannot embody being the baddest bitch that exists.

♡ appreciate compliments, fix your posture, suppress the need to overshare, make people constantly crave and want more.

stages 1 through 5 in the span of 8 months dealing with fine shyt .

good morning yall🩵!!!

(sidenote: i was listening to motion picture if anyone cares 😓☝️)

chat gpt is literally my manifesting bestie 🩷‼️‼️

⋆˚𝜗𝜚˚⋆ First the mind must change, and then the world ⋆˚𝜗𝜚˚⋆

If your mindset doesn’t change nothing in your life will.

Who’s to say you haven’t shifted ?

Who’s to say you didn’t manifest those green eyes ?

Who’s to say you didn’t induce the void ?

You are relaying on 3D factors to tell you whether you’re living your dream life or not. And as you know by now, relying on the 3D, something that absolutely cannot change on its own, isn’t going to end well. At all.

You are there, i’m not saying that to make you feel better, you just are. Stop spiralling about the time, you’re living your dream life, you manifested everything you could ever want. You are going to stay bound here no matter how much you beat yourself up about this, no matter how many times you say you’re going to “lock in”, if you keep acting like this is your original reality and that the life you want only exists in your day dreams.

Stop it, those aren’t dreams, those aren’t desires, those aren’t wants, they are real. This is real, time isn’t a real concept but when it comes to your outerman, you are going to waste so much of your time and energy if you keep waiting for the 3D, a mere reflection of your assumptions, to change.

The inner man must accept a truth before the world does, im sorry but thats just how it works. Why are you complaining about not reaching the void? How do you know you didn’t?

“I’ve been persistent but-” there isn’t any buts for you to have, if you were persistent you wouldn’t be complaining.

Why would someone living their dream life complain?

Those moments where you slip away and immerse yourself in the feeling of your new story, that’s not just some distant daydream, it’s real. And you must realise that or nothing will change and you’re going to keep getting frustrated while you watch everyone else level up.

I would tell you to stop waisting time, but there is no time to waste you’re already there. Whether your 3d shows you a day where you induce or where you don’t doesn’t change that.

This is your life. If you don’t start to see it that way internally, it will never materialise

The innerman must change first, the outer world comes last!!

literally

(this is with manifesting, the void state and shifting too)

chat gpt🤎>>>

stop trying, start being.

THE LULLABY METHOD & THE I AM STATE

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: ∞ ₒ ✧･ﾟ: ∞ ₒ˚ ° 𐐒𐐚 ° ˚ ₒ ∞ *: ✧*:･ﾟ✧ ₒ ∞ *: ✧*:･ﾟ*:･✧･ﾟ∞

one of the fastest ways to speed up your desire is through SLEEP. believe it or not! with these methods, you can manifest your desire literally the NEXT DAY. i remember when i tried this method and got a 55inch tv the NEXT day. give it a try tonight, and tell me how it goes!

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: ∞ ₒ ✧･ﾟ: ∞ ₒ˚ ° 𐐒𐐚 ° ˚ ₒ ∞ *: ✧*:･ﾟ✧ ₒ ∞ *: ✧*:･ﾟ*:･✧･ﾟ∞

THE LULLABY METHOD

"But I do believe in that sleeping during the action in some strange way seems to hasten the interval between the doing and the realization of it. Of course you don’t have to sleep, but I have found from experience that if I can fall asleep while I’m performing the action, the action which implies the fulfillment of my dream, that I quickly collapse the time. In little Barbados, it took me less than one day to have passage on the ship." - Neville Goddard.

the lullaby method

------------------------

1. first, get into a drowsy, sleepy state. not too awake, not too sleepy. like, when you can open your eyes but you don't want to. (if you fall asleep way too quickly, start affirming early. it's better to be safe than sorry).

2. then, affirm for your desires when you are drifting asleep until you fall asleep.

for example, let's say i was affirming for my desired face. i would KNOW i would get my desired face when i woke up. and in a sleepy, drowsy state, i'd affirm:

"i have my desired face"

"i look exactly how i want to"

"i have head turning beauty"

"i woke up with my desired face"

"i am extremely beautiful"

or if i was manifesting a large sum of money, i'd affirm:

"money comes to me quickly and easily"

"i always have more than enough money"

"i am rich"

"i have multiple streams of income"

"i am a money magnet"

if i was shifting to my dr i'd affirm something like:

"i will wake up in my dr"

"i am in my dr"

"i shifted"

"i woke up in my dr"

"shifting is so easy for me"

“A most effective way to embody a desire is to assume the feeling of the wish fulfilled and then, in a relaxed and sleepy state, repeat over and over again like a lullaby, any short phrase which implies fulfillment of your desire, such as, Thank you, thank you, thank you, until the single sensation of thankfulness dominates the mind.” – Neville Goddard

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: ∞ ₒ ✧･ﾟ: ∞ ₒ˚ ° 𐐒𐐚 ° ˚ ₒ ∞ *: ✧*:･ﾟ✧ ₒ ∞ *: ✧*:･ﾟ*:･✧･ﾟ∞

THE I AM STATE

This wonderful experience of rising and floating is the signal that you are absent from the body or problem and are now present with the Lord; in this expanded state you are not conscious of being anything but I AM – I AM; you are only conscious of being.

the I AM state

--------------------

the "I AM state" or also sometimes called "the void state" is a state in pure consciousness, where you are a formless, shapeless being. it is pitch black with pure nothingness. in this "void", you will feel a floating feeling, so don't be alarmed about that.

people enter this state because when you manifest in this state, you manifest INSTANTLY. you can shift in this state, or get whatever you desire also.this state is extremely easy to get into. it's a bit similar to the lullaby method.

in this state, you will manifest every single one of your desires extremely easily, because you are no longer immersed in sensory/outside world. no intrusive thoughts, no doubts, nothing. your consciousness is a purely "clean slate" and "empty".

this may seem like a lot, but it's REALLY easy to get into. i got in the void state on my FIRST TRY. if i can do it, you can do it. give it a try tonight and tell me how it goes!

how to do it

------------------------------

1. first, get into a comfortable position. you can move around for a bit until you find a position that is comfortable. then, stay still.

2. after that, breathe in and out for a while, focus on you breathing. then, begin to affim "I AM" "i am nothing" "i am faceless and formless" "i am in the void state" etc.

KEEP DOING THIS. you're going to get start getting a floaty feeling. if you get this feeling, you are doing it right. keep doing this, and make sure you're affirming from a peaceful place, and you are fully relaxed.

you may get tempted to move, itch, etc. this is just your body checking to see if you're awake or not. IGNORE IT. this is also a sign you're doing it right.

3. great! you're now in the void state. now, you can affirm/visualise or just decide what you want to happen. after that, you will manifest what you want EXTREMELY quickly, almost instantly!

you can shift realities, travel back in time or manifest something. good luck and try this tonight! you can do this at night or in the middle of the day. good luck!

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: ∞ ₒ ✧･ﾟ: ∞ ₒ˚ ° 𐐒𐐚 ° ˚ ₒ ∞ *: ✧*:･ﾟ✧ ₒ ∞ *: ✧*:･ﾟ*:･✧･ﾟ∞

OUTRO

i think you should try either method going to sleep tonight, it'll benefit you A LOT! you can literally wake up with your desire. crazy, right? alright, that's it, my loves! i hope you enjoy this post.

“The 3D Doesn’t Get a Say. You Decided. That’s Enough.”

You don’t have to earn it.

You don’t have to wait for it.

You don’t have to suffer first or “prove” yourself worthy.

You get to have it just because you decided it’s yours. not later. not when things “look better.”

RIGHT NOW.

Stop waiting for the 3D to give you permission to believe. you’re the one in charge here.

Every time you doubt, you’re just feeding the version of you that doesn’t have it and she’s tired. let her rest (forever).

The you who has everything? she’s not questioning. she’s not doubting. she’s chilling.

Because she knows.she has it

So choose her.

Choose the reality where it’s already done.

Because it is.

- etherepaar

The hypnagogic state : how to reach it.

The hypnagogic state is a state where we naturally go into before sleeping, a sweet spot moment before sleeping and still being awake, a state where it is so powerful to be able to shift, get in the void, or basically do anything.

Now it requires NOTHING, it only requires one small thing that might sound tricky.

Staying awake long enough for it to come by on it's own, and actually on average it takes 10-5 mins from each person to enter it aware.

The steps:

Lay flat on your back (not needed, but many results come from laying on the back)

Do. Not. Care, just go with what you usually do to fall asleep, but one thing? You're not falling asleep, you're watching your body fall asleep, that sweet spot where your body is about to fall asleep? That's hypnagogia

Actually don't move, it may give your mind signs you're still not sleeping, now just lay there and try not to sleep while focusing on the blackness behind your eyelids.

You will start seeing flashing images or swirly things or even just flashing lights and imagery, this is the hypnagogia and you managed to reach it in just 10 mins of pretending to be asleep (acc it takes me 4)

Bam, that's the sweet spot, now affirm slowly for the void, or just sense your surroundings for shifting or maybe you can try your shifting method here! This state cannot argue back, you'll be immediately shifting in no time, and slipping in the void is so easy from it.

So really the whole steps is just "lay down, don't move, watch your eyelids, color seen? Hypnagogia reached, method or void procedure done, bam."

I managed to find a post on Reddit on how to keep your body awake, you can try 2 or 3 of them to keep yourself entertained, FULL CREDITS TO THE ONE WHO POSTED IT ON REDDIT (calaie_iscoolio):

"1. Looking in the darkness behind your eyelids

Basically what it says, when you close your eyes, just focus on the darkness until hypnagogic imagery begins to happen i.e. colors, shapes, literally anything that will show. When images begin to show up, do not interact or acknowledge what you are seeing, you can look at it, but don't try to control it and just let the images flow until you feel that the state is induced enough to where it won't disappear because you are "too" awake/aware.

2. "Forearm Up" Method

Another technique that basically helps with people who tend to fall asleep to quickly, basically lay down on your back like usual, lift your hand up in the air where your elbow is resting on your mattress, keep it there and as it slowly falls down that's where you'll begin to fall asleep, it'll drop and basically awake you back up.

I had also seen a shifter mention that they prefer to lay on their stomach and lifting their foot up in the air and basically do the same thing. This technique basically just wakes you back up.

3. Thomas Edison Method

Very similar to the "Forearm Up" Method, basically what Edison had done was he had held a steel ball in his hand, and when he began to fall asleep, the ball will drop and alert Edison awake, another technique to help with people to struggle to stay awake.

4. Imagine Constant Motion

Basically imagining something whether that be an animal or an object constantly moving like a horse galloping, a dogs tail wagging side to side, etc. (Pretty simple, for people who find it much easier to visualize).

5. Tire your body through out the day

During the day, you could do any tasks that would just tire your body out that leads up to your attempt to induce the state, it'll make it much easier for you to get into the state and induce it since your body is already tired enough to relax.

6. Repeating "hypnagogia"

This will mean you have you just repeat the words "hypnagogia" to yourself till you get tired enough and then hypnagogic imagery will eventually appear.

7. Counting

Basically just like regular shifting methods, you could focus on counting up to how much you want to until you begin to get the hypnagogic hallucinations, to keep yourself from falling asleep you could give yourself simple math questions just so it's enough to focus to answer it.

8. Imagining Randomness

Imagine literally anything that isn't related at all, i.e. horse, roof, apple, pen, desk, etc. Visualize and filter through random objects or animals that have no correlation and that will induce the hypnagogic imagery, randomness is key.

9. Focus on breathing

Similar to any shifting method, basically focusing on your breaths is another technique to induce the state. Literally just anything to keep your awareness occupied rather than letting your mind just shut down to go to sleep.

10. Sounds

Listening to anything in your environment, whether that be things happening outside, if it's raining listen to the rain, or if you've got headphones on listen to the music and focus that, keep your focus on the music so you don't fall asleep.

11. "Playing" a song in your head

Not necessarily listening to the song, but imagining the song playing in your head, whether that be your favorite song, if you know how it sounds like, imagine it playing and once you've entered the state, it will naturally play and you'll end up actually hearing the song.

12. Heartbeat

Basically just focus on your heartbeat. Listen to the amount of beats.

These are all the various of techniques you could use, you don't have to stick to one and can basicaally try them out, see which one you feel like works for you and go from there. A tip is also you could pick like 4 or 5 out of these 12 and just filter through the techniques if you can't just stick to one since you get uninterested quickly. (I get bored easily, do I normally do 8, 9, 7 and 4 just so I don't lose interest.)"

Good luck y'all!

Letting go + how to affirm/ do ur technique

Letting go is NOT letting go of your desire and not thinking about it ever again 🤦🏻‍♀️cuz if you have it you'll obviously think about it. I manifested this phone I'm typing on but do I not think about it anymore when it's literally right in front me??? THINK FROM THE STATE OF HAVING IT. Now that I have this phone, do i think about wanting it? Or if I affirmed 2827 times today? Or do i worry that it might not manifest WHEN I ALREADY FLIPPIN' HAVE IT??? OFC NOT. I have LET GO of the desperation or want for it. Letting go is letting go of wanting it or whatever like thinking whatever you'd think from the not having it state. Let it go. Think as if you already have it. And just randomly thinking about your desire and being like "oh no, ACTUALLY I do have it." That's also affirming. That's why we say affirm and by that we don't mean you necessarily have to affirm all day long. Repetition ≠ affirm. Affirming is stating as a FACT. You can just affirm whenever you think of your desire. It's completely okay to robotically affirm or affirming with feeling or affirming with a timer or whatever. As long as you are thinking as if, thinking from the state of having it. Even if it's visualisation or scripting or idk whatever method that works for you is okay as long as you're in the knowing of having it. You don't need feelings to know btw. The knowing feeling is just so natural dw about it.

when i say me and my dr s/o are LOCKED IN, this is what i mean

⋆.˚ ᡣ𐭩 .𖥔˚ STOP. CONSTANTLY. CHECKING. THE. 3D. DAMNIT.

‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎I'm not fond of using "3D" or "4D" since they're technically one thing (3D being the reflection of 4D) but like genuinely babe—what are you looking for? Validation? Proof? A parade from the universe with confetti and a trumpet section going “Here comes your manifestation!”? No. That’s not how this works. You're not a detective trying to solve a missing person’s case. You're the author of the damn book. You don’t need to check if the plot is working out—you write it, remember?

𓈒ㅤׂㅤ𐙚 ࣪ ⭒ “But Mercy!! Everyone says manifestation is instant, why hasn’t my 3D adjusted yet??”

‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎YES. IT IS INSTANT. But if you keep checking the 3D with this little skeptical side-eye like, “Why hasn't it happened?”, what you're actually doing is saying, “I assume it’s not here.” Boom. Guess what the law says? “You’re the boss, babe. Not here it is.” THAT'S the assumption you're persisting in. Not “It’s done,” but “It’s not done yet.” See the problem?

𓈒ㅤׂㅤ𐙚 ࣪ ⭒ "But Mercy! I need to have my desired life before I—"

‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎Before what? Before you’re allowed to chill? Before you can stop being anxious? Before you’re finally allowed to believe you’re worthy? Babe. You’re literally saying you don’t have it right now. You're telling yourself that you need to get there. That’s the assumption. You're camping in the land of “I don’t have it yet.” And guess where the law of assumption will keep you? Yup. Right there. In Old-story-ville. Population: you.

𓈒ㅤׂㅤ𐙚 ࣪ ⭒ “But Mercy! I’ve been persisting for so long and NOTHING has changed in the 3D!"

‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎GIRL. Sweetheart. Listen. You LITERALLY just affirmed nothing has changed. That’s what you're clinging to. That's the version of reality you're choosing. You could say “I know it’s done no matter what I see,” but instead you’re going “I’m not seeing anything change!” Like, baby, you are affirming LACK. You are manifesting more of nothing happening. You see how that loops?

‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎You are not broken. You are not failing. You’re just stuck in the OLD STORY ADDICTION. Yeah, I said it. You keep feeding your energy to the version of you that doesn't have what they want. And why? Because it's familiar? Safe? You get to complain a bit longer? You think whatever you're manifesting for is too good to be true? Cute. But no. We’re done with that.

‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎You know how to break the loop? You stop giving a damn about what the 3D looks like. You let it be. You live your life. You live like it’s done because it IS. The only reason it hasn’t shown up is because you keep babysitting the assumption that “It’s not here.” And surprise surprise—that’s exactly what shows up.

‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎You can have doubts. You can cry. You can have off days. That’s NORMAL. You're human. But stop using your doubt as an excuse to spiral back into the same old version of yourself who doesn't believe. Doubt isn’t the problem. Living in it is.

‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎Let it go. Live. Touch some grass. Get a snack. Rewrite your story. Assume you already have it and STICK TO IT. That’s literally all it takes. You're not a failure. You're not behind. You're not doing it wrong. You’re just stuck in the habit of not believing it’s done. Break the habit. Unplug the old story. Choose the new one. And for the love of manifestation gods—stop checking the damn 3D.

WHO ͏ ͏͏ ARE ͏ ͏ ͏⭒ ͏͏ ͏ ͏͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏YOU ͏ ͏͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏͏ ͏ ͏! ͏ ͏͏ ͏ ͏!

ㅤmy head & my heartㅤ ৎ ۟ 𓂂 ͟𓇼

⟣ i don't chase my dreams and desires , my dreams and desires chase me. i believe in myself even when no one does. im delusional when it comes to my desires. i have the perfect balance between sexy and cute. im the hottest girl in existence. i don't get bothered by others opinions or limiting beliefs.

⟣ i don't allow any negativity or hate get to me. i have the perfect skin, body, hair & everything a girl can have, you name it and i have it. each month and year is full of blessings and love for me. i have the perfect self concept, the world is my oyster and life is literally on easy mode. my confidence is always so high people can't do anything but be attracted to my energy and aura. i can easily outsmart and outshine anyone but no one can ever outsmart or outshine me.

⟣ i just keep getting prettier and smarter every day. im a total goddess. people start doubting their sexuality for me, now i understand how hard it would be for Lisa and Jimin. im a total goddess that's why im always the centre of attention. i have a charming and ethereal presence. i'm a true fashion icon, all brands like Calvin Klein, Chanel, Hera, Dior, YSL, Celine etc die to collab with me.

⟣ i don't follow trends, i set them. im the one and only IT girl! my beauty and style is one of a kind. everyone immediately respects me, my presence is so bold, strong & captivating. im always on the pedestal no matter what, im so ethereal, sometimes even the camera fails to capture my beauty. im always treated like royalty, everyone always gives me princess treatment.

⟣ my aura is so powerful , intimidating , alluring and magnetic . I have a dominant and powerful presence. I have a rich girl essence, I give off expensive feminine vibes. I'm dominant , elegant , ambitious , intelligent , smart and intimidating . Both my presence and voice is so ethereal and angelic. I am effortlessly pretty. Everything I do is considered iconic. I am the pure embodiment of Femme Fatale

⟣ i always shine the brightest and effortlessly stand out. im so aesthetic, It's always ugly until i wear it. i look like a model. i radiate luxurious vibes, i am so elegant and carry myself with grace. whoever hates me is just jealous of me, all my haters are my secret admirer's. i am the ace, i paved the way for others. no one is doing it like me. i am the luckiest girl out there and i always get everything i want.

THE VOID: PUPPY EXPLANATION

Sunny is a fluffy little golden retriever puppy who loves belly rubs, zoomies, and chewing on things he probably shouldn’t. But most of all, Sunny loves treats.

One day, he heard the big dogs talking about something called the void.

"The void is where everything already exists," said the wise old husky. "You don’t have to chase it. You just have to know it’s yours."

Sunny’s floppy ears perked up. He had spent so much time running after things tennis balls, squirrels, that one butterfly he never caught. But what if he didn’t have to? What if he could just…have a treat?

So, Sunny did what he did best...he flopped onto the grass and got cozy. He closed his puppy eyes, his little tail thumping against the ground. He let everything go...no chasing, no waiting. Just being.

The world got quiet. No more distractions. Just the soft, warm darkness behind his eyelids.

"I am in the void," Sunny thought, his tiny body completely still. And in that space of pure knowing, he affirmed:

"I have a treat."

He didn’t peek. He didn’t whine. He didn’t roll over and check if it was there. He just knew.

And when he finally opened his eyes? Boom. Right in front of him...a big, delicious treat, waiting just for him.

Sunny wiggled in excitement, chomping down happily. He didn’t have to run, beg, or wait. He just had it.

And from that day on, whenever Sunny wanted something, he didn’t chase. He just laid back, relaxed, and let it be his....

So what we can conclude from Sunny's story?

Sunny’s story teaches us that manifestation isn’t about chasing...it’s about knowing. Just like he stopped running after things and simply trusted that his treat was his, we need to detach from desperation and step into certainty. The void is where everything already exists, and when we stop obsessing, checking, and forcing, things naturally align. Manifestation is effortless when we embody the feeling of already having it, because our reality mirrors our inner state. So instead of stressing over when and how, relax, trust, and let it come to you just like Sunny did.

Credits to: @thedreamgirljournal and @premiumbitch, the idea of this post belongs to originally them, they created about bunny and kitten so I thought creating about puppy!