dirty | collection of one shots.

cant handle it

in which they give each other good lovin' that neither of them can handle.

"BABE!" Is what is heard all around the house along with heavy footsteps becoming louder and louder. The 6'0 man rushed in the bedroom with a panicked look on his face, and even some sweat glimmering on his forehead. "Do you know where my burgundy sweater with the yellow and white thingy on the sleeve? I can't find it."

"It's in the closet on my side, top right with a white hanger," says the woman nonchalantly who was sitting in front of the mirror on the floor as she flat ironed a piece of her hair.

He didn't hesitate and quickly rushed to their closet, and as she said, there was his sweater hanging on a white hanger on her side of the closet. Smiling, he grabbed his favorite sweater and slid it on his body. He then walked out the closet with a stupid grin on his face, "Girl you know how much I love this sweater."

"And you are a headass," she rolled her eyes at him and continuing to do her hair that reached about to her shoulders. It was still a working progress going all natural but she loved it honestly. She went ahead and deep conditioned her hair, detangled it, blow dried it out, and now she is just straightening it because she thought that it would look nice when it came seeing her family today. Plus, it was super rare to put heat on her hair but it wouldn't hurt to give herself a smooth silk press.

"I hope you know that I am going to tell yo folks how mean you are to me," he muttered quietly as he placed his diamond studs in his ears. Personally, he knew that his girl was fiesty and she was just playing when it came to name calling. The thing is that he couldn't roast her back or else she would get in her feelings, ignore him, or even cry--she can be such a baby sometimes it was fucking crazy--if he went too far, depending on the situation. So that's why he kept all his comments to himself--especially so she wouldn't hear.

The brown beauty laughed, turning off the flat iron and placing it on a dirty towel that was burned, "Michael please, they'll roast da fuck outta you and you'll think I'm the nice one."

"Your family loves me Kamaria," he says with pride looking at her through the mirror.

"If I love you then they have to love you too--but that still doesn't mean your safe because we will all get on yo head," Kamaria's family was something else. And boy when it came to new people it was even more gruesome.

Michael came up behind her and rested his chin on her shoulder, arms wrapping around her body as he pulled her in closer. He loved her, almost more than himself at times. She had the smoothest brown skin that resembled the color of an almond. Eyes that were squinty but cute, a smile that drove him up the wall, and not to mention the cute little dark freckles that were on her nose. He loved everything about her, "I don't think they will get on me too much after I tell them that you're gonna be my wife," he smiles.

"Still not safe," she laughs getting out his hold and getting off from the floor, "But anyways, what time is it?"

"Almost twelve, and you know we gotta be at yo Mama's house at one so let's hurry the hell up," Michael pressed snapping his fingers. She wasn't even dressed--not like he didn't mind--and all she did was her hair.

"I don't know who you rushing but it's not me nigga," she pointed at herself with a scoff.

Michael got up to his feet and sat on the edge of the bed, wondering how in the hell did he put up with her sass all the time, "Don't make me spank you."