Justin Bieber & Jason McCann Dirty Imagines

Twenty Three (Drinking Problem) Justin Bieber

EVERY IMAGINE IN THIS BOOK IS NOT MINE SO CREDITS GO TO WHOEVER OWNS THIS.

“AHH, FUCK. MY FUCKINNG EL-BOW.” Justin cries out in pain, clutching his now red elbow.

Justin couldn’t even see where he was going, his feet not responding to his brain. He wobbles up the stairs like he’s spun around 100 times, missing each step a couple times. 

You fish yourself out of the bed. You see justin on his knees halfway up the stairs looking like a squashed beetle, his body hunched over, his head placed against the floor. You rush towards him to help him get up. 

“MY LOIFESAVER!!” He gurgles out as you hold his waist, attempting to walk him carefully up the stairs and to into the bathroom to get him cleaned up. 

He doesn’t cooperate as he pushes his weight down, hanging his body forward like a slob. 

“Walk properly Justin.” 

“I AM WALKING PROOPERLYY.” 

As soon as your get to the bedroom door, he breaks free from your grip and runs and crashes dead on the bed. He’s now sprawled out on the bed, his face facing flat as he mumbles loudly, “I’m feeling SO sick today. Today I drank so much with ZA!!!!” 

You ignore him as you reach to slip his shoes off,“Let’s go to bed aye?” 

You slip into the bed next to Justin. You sit there and stare at his drunken state. Justin was already fast asleep, not making a single sound. Justin’s odour smelt like a drunk man’s breath. You cover your nose and crinkle your eyebrows, the smell making your eyes water. You try to get him to raise his arms up, tugging his shirt off. 

“Lift your arms up a bit Justin,” You say softly. 

He does. 

You flick the dirty t-shirt away on the ground and huff yourself around the thick white blankets. You turn your body away from facing him. Justin suddenly shuffles around, getting under the sheets and slings his bare arm around your waist. You lay flat and place a hand on top of his arm, gently gripping it. You sigh out loud. You were more than wasted, maybe even more wasted than Justin right now. You didn’t want to put up with him anymore. You were tired of feeling like this everyday.

Your eyes flutter open to see yourself being framed under a warm body. You turn your head to find yourself tucked against his bare chest. You gently remove yourself from his grip, slowly and struggling to remove his heavy body off from yours. You manage to get him off you and tip toe into the kitchen. 

After a while, Justin stumbles into the room. 

“Hungry?” 

You hear justin mumble a deep ‘yeah’ under his breath. 

Justin slumps forward on his chair, leaning against the table with a hand under his chin supported by his elbow. He looked even worse than last night. You sit down beside him. You watch as he picks his breakfast with the fork, looking uninterested as ever. You were getting agitated by even looking at him, you were now not hungry, your appetite thrown out of the window. You drop your fork with a loud click of the metal against the china plate. Before you were about to walk out of the room, justin gets up and lets out a loud sigh. 

“I’m sorry Y/N, i don’t know what you want me to do.” 

You spin on your feet, you wanted to slap his face for making you constantly worry all night, everyday. 

“Is that all you have to say?!” 

“WHAT ELSE DO YOU WANT?!” Justin yells back at you, his deep voice cracking.