Justin Bieber Imagines

Therapist.

"Dr. Bieber will see you now." the receptionist at the front desk said kindly.

I gave a small smile, agitated at the fact that my best friend forced me to therapy because it will help me "get things off my chest".

Bullshit.

I don't need to get anything off my chest; I'm perfectly fine.

I knocked on the door to Dr. Bieber's office and-- wow. He's gorgeous. Personally, I don't go for white men, but I would do anything for him.

Anything.

"Good afternoon, miss. Come on in." his voice was so smooth, yet raspy.

I walked into the office, and surprisingly, it looked really cozy. It wasn't like those therapist movies with the unsettling atmosphere; it looked like someone's living room.

He waltzed behind his desk and took a seat in his chair, as I took a seat on the leather sofa. "So, Miss....."

"Oh! Sorry, I'm Y/N Y/L/N."

"Ah," he smirked. "Miss Y/L/N. Your friend Maria called my office yesterday afternoon. She was complaining about how you've been acting towards the people you're surrounded around. What seems to be the problem?"

"Well," you thought about it. "my boyfriend and I broke up awhile back, and since then I haven't been able to really be myself."

"And why's that?"

"Well, uh-- how should I put this? He, was, um-- meeting my needs." I looked away to mask my embarrassment.

"And now that you two aren't together, you've been trying to find people that meet your desires, and they can't." he walked from the back of his desk to the front, sitting slightly.

"Exactly."

"Hm." he paused. "I know what your problem is."

"What?"

"I'm just gonna be blunt. You need to get another boyfriend, or have a one night stand from someone on Tinder, doesn't matter. Long story short: you need dick in your life."

"So, what will this do?"

"Even if the sex isn't the greatest, it'll release some of the pent-up stress that your sexual frustration has been giving you."

"Mhm." it got really quiet. "So, now what?"

"Your friend paid for another hour, anything else on your mind?"

"Um.." you fine piece of white chocolate. "Not really, no."

He sat next to me and moved my hair from the side of my neck and whispered in my ear. "You sure?" he kissed my earlobe, then my jawline, then down to my neck.

"Mm, yes."

"You know why your friend sent you here?"

"No, why?"

"Because I'm a sex therapist."

I moved away from him. "What do you mean?"

"I mean.. women come to me with their sexual problems and I fix them. Sometimes I get laid, sometimes I don't. It really depends on the situation."

"So you just have sex with women?" I asked.

"Pretty much."

"So, I'm gonna have sex with you?"

"Only if you want."

~