Justin Bieber Imagines (Completed)

How Could I Do This?

Requested from Bieber-is-cute

Justin had been going out and getting drunk every night for the past 2 weeks and you've had enough. You understand that he wants to have fun and be with his friends but he doesn't spend any time at all with you anymore. You guys need a break.

You sigh as you sip up your suitcase. You called your friend earlier to asked if you could stay at her place for a few days.

It's currently 11:30pm, you thought you'd stay awake until Justin comes home so you can talk to him. Drunk or not he needs to listen.

You decide to sit on the couch and watch t.v until he comes home.

***

You hear stumbling and a door slam, it wakes you up, you must've been asleep. You rub your eyes and walk over to Justin, you bring your suitcase with you.

"Heyyyy Babbbyyyy." He slurs.

"Hi Justin." You mumble.

"Whasts dat?" He asks point to your suitcase.

"Its my suitcase."

"Why do you have it?" His speech starts to get a little less slurred.

"Because I'm leaving Justin." You sigh.

"W-why?" He stutters.

"Because you would rather go get drunk every night rather than spend time with your girlfriend." You say, trying to stay strong.

"T-thats-s not true-e." He protests.

"Oh really? When was the last time you spent time with me?"

He thinks for a second.

"We went to that party..."

"I mean just the two of us. See, it's so long ago that you can't even remember. Face it Justin, you don't care anymore, you don't care about me."

"THAT'S NOT TRUE I DO CARE!" Anger taking over him.

"BULLSHI..."

He grabs you harshly by the wrist.

"DON'T FUCKING SAY BULLSHIT TO ME YOU WHORE." You flinch at his actions, he's holding onto your wrist so tight. "LISTEN TO ME YOU LITTLE BITCH. IF I WANT TO GO OUT AND DRINK WITH MY FRIENDS, I WILL. I DON'T NEED SOME LITTLE SLUT TELLING ME OTHERWISE."

"J-Justin, let go." You whimper.

Just then he raises his hand and slaps you right across the face, hard. You fall to the floor.

Justin's Point of View

"DON'T FUCKING SAY BULLSHIT TO ME YOU WHORE. LISTEN TO ME YOU LITTLE BITCH. IF I WANT TO GO OUT AND DRINK WITH MY FRIENDS, I WILL. I DON'T NEED SOME LITTLE SLUT TELLING ME OTHERWISE."

"J-Justin, let go." She whimpers.

I don't know what took over me, I slapped her. She fell to the floor.

I look at my hand in shock. I can't believe I did that. I turn sober and the sight of this. What a monster I've become. How could I have hurt my poor sweet (y/n)? And all she was wanting was my love.

I bend down to her and try to comfort her. She moves away in fear. That broke my heart.

"I'm sorry. I'm so fucking sorry. I have no idea what took over me. I didn't mean it. I'm sorry. Please forgive me. I'm sorry. I won't do it again, I'll change, I'll make it up to you. I won't go out anymore. Please, don't leave. I'm sorry." I cry.

She looks at me and sees the genuine sorrow and guilt in my eyes. She blinks away her tears.

In a swift move, she quickly grabs her suitcase and runs out the door. I barely have time to react. I run out the door after her. I see her getting into her car, she locks the door. I bang on the window but she continues to back out of the driveway, and out of my life.

I watch her car drive down the street.

How could I do this?

Part 2?