Basically, this imagine was about Bryson and y/n going through a rough patch in their relationship at the moment. Y/n has been blind to it but Bryson has been woke about the situation. Bryson and y/n get into it one night and y/n is ready to call it off, but Bryson isn’t having it.
Been That Way
Bryson got back home late.. Again. I get that he has a carrier and it takes his time and energy to keep it going, but he’s also committed in a relationship. He’s committed to me. All I ever ask for is a little more then “I’m sorry” morning sex, conversations about his day at the studio, and him coming back home at 3 in the morning. That’s not a healthy relationship and it isn’t fun either. I need more, I deserve more than that.
I laid in my bed starring at the ceiling taking in everything I was thinking. I heard water hitting the shower floor and my head traveled over to the bathroom door. Bryson was showering. I could hear him sing some of the lyrics to Chris Brown’s ‘Autumn Leaves’. I smiled to myself sitting up and leaning back on the champagne colored headboard. I pulled the sheets up to my bare chest.
I held onto the sheets tightly as I scanned the floor looking for my Calvin Klein’s. I groaned in frustration when I saw no sign of the matching black bra and panties. I rolled my eyes getting out of bed, I walked over to my drawer opening it getting out a pair of brand new grey Calvin’s. I dropped the sheet and put my feet through the panties covering my bottom. I quickly put on the sports bra and threw my sheets in the dirty basket. I put my hair up in a high pony tail, walking out of the bedroom. I made my way over to the kitchen opening the fridge scanning for the egg carton. I found it grabbing it placing it on the counter, I also grabbed a bag of bacon strips, and a pack of cheddar cheese.
I closed the fridge placing everything on the counter. I made my way to the cabinet, grabbing me two small red onions. I shut the cabinet door, grabbing my wooden cutting board. I grabbed my chief knife and started chopping the onions, making sure I didn’t cut my hand. I put the knife down once I was satisfied with what I had in front of me, I turned around grabbing my silver skillet placing it on the stove. I turned on the stove setting it to a medium, I poured some olive oil in it and waited for it to start sizzling. Once it started making bubbly noises, I grabbed a hand full of onions placing it into the skillet. I grabbed a wooden spoon and started sterring.
I turned the burner to a low and turned around to focus my attention on the eggs. I grabbed a glass bowl, cracking six eggs into it. I added a little salt and started beating on the eggs. I kept doing that until the eggs were beat completely. I poured the eggs into the skillet, watching small bubbles start to form. I stood there letting the eggs fully cooked on the bottom before I added the cheese.
I opened a pack of cheese pouring some of it into the eggs. I stirred it making sure it was cheesy. I turned off the stove, setting the skillet to the side grabbing a new one setting it on a burner. I turned on a stove adding oil into the skillet allowing it to catch heat. I turned around putting the cutting board in the sink along with everything else I had used. I sighed looking back at the skillet to see that the oil still hadn’t reached its heat. I rolled my eyes walking out of the kitchen.
I walked through the bedroom doors going straight over to my side of the bed grabbing my phone out of the charger. I stood there reading all of the unread messages from friends and family. I smiled at the text from my dad. I slightly jumped when I felt a cold pair of arms snake around my waist.
“Which nigga got my girl smiling so big?” Bryson whispered into my ear. I smiled turning around facing him. I wrapped my arms around his neck standing on my toes so we were face to face. “There are no other niggas, Tiller.” I said smiling. Bryson smiled leaning in. I did the same closing my eyes. He pecked my lips several times showing no signs of stopping. I slapped his chest lightly pulling away.
“I’m making breakfast.” I said. I smiled looking up at him. “I know. I could smell the onions burning from the shower.” Bryson said, he laughed grabbing my hand. I rolled my eyes smiling back at him. “Anyways, now that you’re out of the shower you can come help me eat.” I smiled, I grabbed his arm pulling him out of the room and into the kitchen. He sat on the stool and watched me.
I grabbed some bacon strips setting it in the pan letting it sizzle. I continued to do that until all of the bacon was done. I turned off the stove before grabbing two plates. I set one infront of Bryson who was on his phone. I put some eggs on his plate and four strips of bacon. I did the same for me. I walked over to the fridge grabbing two bottles of orange juice. I set one infront of Bryson. He looked up smiling and set his phone to the side. I handed him a fork and watched him stuff his face.
“Damn bae, onions a little burnt but this shit bang.” Bryson said, he nodded his head stuffing his face. “Shut up.” I said, I smiled before taking a bite of my bacon. I sat on the counter and continued to eat. It was quite and awkward. Bryson got up setting his plate in the sink, he walked over to me parting my legs so he could stand in between. He looked up at me rubbing my thighs. I wrapped my arms around his neck giving him my full attention.
“I have to be at the studio in 45 minutes. We got time to fuck.” Bryson said, I gave him a blank expression. “Y/n, you good?” He asked, I scuffed pushing him off me. I got off the counter setting my plate in the sink. He stood infront of me with a confused expression. “Y/n?” He asked, I ignored him pushing myself passed him.
I walked back over to the bedroom sitting on the bed. A few seconds later Bryson was in the room sitting next to me. I rolled my eyes folding my arms. “Y/n, what the hell is you so mad for?” Bryson asked. “We only have so much time to spend together and you want to spend that time fucking?” I asked, Bryson sighed shrugging his shoulders. “I thought you liked fucking.” Bryson answered, he leaned on the bed supporting himself with his hands. I rolled my eyes
“Bryson, a few minutes ago we weren’t even communicating. Shit is always awkward unless we’re fucking, talking about your songs, or getting high. Why is that? You changed on me fam.” I said, Bryson sat up raising his brow. “Oh, so now I’m fam?” He questioned, I shrugged my shoulders not replying.
“Y/n, shit has been awkward for a minute now all cause of you. You’re always looking to pick fights about every little thing. I can’t do shit to please you anymore.” Bryson said, I looked up at him in disbelief. “That’s how you feel?” I questioned, Bryson sighed rubbing his temples. “Been feeling this way for a minute now, y/n.” Bryson said, I nodded my head sucking my teeth.
“Bryson, have you ever thought for a second that maybe the reason why I act up is cause I never get to see you?” I questioned, Bryson stayed quite looking at the floor. “You’re never here. I’m lonely as fuck I want to be able to talk to you without there having to be rushed cause you only got 30 seconds.” I said. My voice was starting to get loud a little. Bryson stood up talking off his jacket, walking over to the door shutting it.
He took off his shirt throwing it at the floor. He glared at me sitting next to me on the bed. “Y/n, I’m an artist. I warned you what would be happening if you decided to get into this with me.” Bryson shouted, I rolled my eyes. “I didn’t know it would be like this!” I shouted back. “What did you expect then?!” Bryson asked.
I stood up from the bed making my way towards the door. Bryson ran up to me grabbing my waist pulling me back. “Why you always start shit and then walk out when it’s not going your way?” He asked, his hand was still on my waist and he had a serious look on his face. “Because, no matter how many times I say something you can’t get it through your head!” I yelled, I pushed him off me trying to get passed him. He blocked the door.
“You’re so fucking frustrating. Just let me try and fix this!” Bryson shouted. I groaned walking back to the bed. “You can’t fix this. It’s way too broken and we’re way too different.” I said, I sighed. Bryson walked over bending down so he could be at eye level with me. He grabbed my hand squeezing it. “Baby, don’t say that.” He said. A tear slipped down my cheek and I quickly wiped it off.
“Let me fix this.” He said. I looked him in the eyes.
“How?” I asked. He stood up grabbing my hand. He brushed my hair out of my face before kissing me.
“raising his voice for youth”? Is he gonna pretend now to be woke about issues youth is facing? And what voice is that? The one that constantly sings about how big his “lightsaber” is and how he stretched his ex-gf’s vagina walls? 🙄🙄