Justin Bieber Imagines [Interracial]

8 Years of Kidrauhl

| Happy 8 Years of Kidrauhl |

–

You jumped up off the off the couch excitedly as you heard Justin's car door slam. You ran into the kitchen, grabbed the cake off the counter that you made for him, and excitedly made you way to the front door.

The keys started to jingle and you felt yourself getting more excited by the seconds.

"Happy 8 Years of Kidrauhl!" You exclaimed as the door flew open.

You had expected all types of different emotions from Justin because this was his day in the belieber world. Eight years ago today he posted his first ever YouTube video and without that, he would've never been discovered.

However, what you didn't expect was him to push open the door, angrily march through, and bounce your shoulder in the process.

"Justin!" You yelled after regaining your balance.

What the hell was wrong with him?

Putting the cake you nearly dropped on the kitchen counter, you made your way upstairs.

"Justin!" You called again as you reached the top. You noticed your room door was closed, meaning he was in there. You frowned when you tried to enter the room and saw the door was locked. "Justin open the door."

After repeating yourself about 5 times, you started to get angry. "Justin, I swear if you don't open this god damn door, not only will I kick it down, I will beat your ass when I get in there."

"Leave me alone, Y/N," Justin groaned, "I'm not in the mood."

"5, 4, 3..."

Justin groaned again and mumbled something before you heard shuffling inside the room. Seconds later, Justin pulled open the door before walking back to the bed and dropped on it face first.

"I'm glad you came to your senses." You walked in the room and sat on the edge of the bed.

He lifted his head up, "I didn't–I just don't feel like going to buy a new door again."

You snorted in laughter remembering the last time Justin decided to lock you out of you guys room.

"What's wrong?"

"What do you mean?" He asked, turning over to look at you.

"What do you mean what do I mean?"

"What do you mean what do I mean?" He looked up at you with a smile, "I meant what do you mean and then you asked me what-"

You slapped the back of Justin's leg lightly, cutting him off. He roared out in laughter, making you laugh.

This boy was so bipolar. One minute he's all pissed like the big bad wolf about to boy a house down, the next he's moping around all depressed, and now he was laughing like a hyena.

"No, seriously what's wrong?" You laid down beside him, looking him directly in the eyes.

"You're gonna think I'm stupid." He bit the inside of his cheek as he turned his head away from you.

"Hey," you said, "Look at me." He turned his head towards you, except be stared at the wall behind you instead of meeting your eyes. Grabbing his cheeks, you pulled his face so he was once again looking you directly in the eye. You placed a gentle kiss on his soft lips, "I could never think you're stupid. Just tell me."

"Well," he began, "Some people have been criticizing my Calvin shoot."

You slapped his shoulder hard before you started laughing.

Justin had recently become the new face of Calvin Klein and to say the shots were hot would be an understatement.

"What was that for?" He smiled, rubbing his shoulder.

"For being an idiot!" You said, still dying of laughter.

"I didn't do anything!" He whined.

"You came up in here all pissy and pushed me out the way–making me almost drop your cake in the process–slamming doors and shit!"

"You made me a cake?" He sprung up out of the bed and looked down at you excitedly.

"Was that all you heard out of that entire sentence?" You leaned up on your elbows and raised your eyebrow.

He shrugged, "Pretty much. The cake was the only important thing in that entire statement."

You glared at him and sat up.

Knowing how happy Justin usually got on the anniversary of his YouTube channel, you made him a cake, iced it, and decorated it. And even though the words you tried to pipe on the cake with icing came out looking like shit, it was the thought that counted.

"What we're people saying about the photoshoot?" You asked curiously.

"Everybody was talking about how it's photoshopped and all that shit." He sighed and ran his hand through his hair.

"Is it?"

"No."

"So, what's the problem?" You wanted to laugh at him again for getting mad at something the media had to say–he should know by now that they have something to say about everything.

He opened his mouth to speak but then closed it.

"I guess you're right..." he mumbled.

"Hell yeah I'm right." You stood up off the bed, walking to Justin, and threw your arms around his neck. "Happy 8 years of Kidrauhl baby."

"Thank you," he leaned down to kiss you, "Can we go eat that cake now?"

You smiled, "I'll be down in a second."

"Okay," he replied beginning to walk to the door. "But if it's done when you get down there then that's not my fault."

"Fatass!" You called out after him.

"You really shouldn't talk about yourself in such a manner Y/N," he laughed, making you smile and roll your eyes.

Bipolar lovable asshole.

–

alright so I've been working on a new story so that'll probably be posted this weekend or next weekend idk but some time soon