Dirty Justin Bieber Smut

13. Not Your Baby

By imaginejuzten on tumblr
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You watch from the other side of the couch as Justin gazes at the television intently. It's a Saturday afternoon and you two have absolutely nothing left to do, which to some couples, would be boring, but considering the lives you and Justin both lead, a lazy day is a blessing. He's watching some cop show that you can't remember the name of, but you're not all that interested in the plot anyway. Your boyfriend is much more fun to look at than some fictional detectives chasing around bad guys.

You take your time looking at him, and it's to your advantage that he's too focused on the TV to feel your stare. His eyebrows are knitted together slightly, a faint crease denting his forehead. He clenches his jaw every now and then (an old habit his which you've grown more than fond of), and his pink lips are pursed and parted just barely. There's a new fullness to his face, and it's no doubt that he looks much more different than he did a few weeks ago, but you're thankful for that because he looks healthy -- and not to mention completely adorable.

You scoot closer to him on the couch, moving so that you can slide your hands under his arms and hold his middle, then knot your fingers together daintily against his ribcage. Justin doesn't seem to notice or mind, in fact, you think you feel him relax under your touch. You lift your head to kiss his cheek softly, careful not to distract him from his TV show as you admire his babyface.

"You're so cute." You hum once the show cuts to commercial, reaching up to pinch Justin's cheek as he purses his lips to a pout. "Like a baby."

"Gee, thanks." He says sarcastically with a roll of his eyes.

"Aw, don't get all pouty on me!" You giggle, pinching his side playfully.

Justin can't even force back a smile though you can tell he's trying. His body jerks backward to try and pull away from your touch, but you continue to play along and tickle his ribs as he laughs and helplessly accepts your torture.

"(Y/N), stop! Stop!" He yelps through his laughter, trying to swat your hands away, but you show no mercy.

Once you've had your fun, you stop your hands and rest your tranquil fingers at his sides, sliding your hands under his shirt just because you've gotten used to the warmth of his skin against yours. You look up at your boyfriend with a lazy grin on your lips, watching as he wipes some laughing tears from his eyes.

"Oh, no! I made my baby cry." You tease, pouting your lip to imitate sympathy.

"Quit calling me that," He bites, though he's smiling through his words. "I'm not your baby."

"I can't help it." You smile, feigning innocence as you slide your hands further up his shirt. "You're adorable. I just wanna' pinch your baby-cheeks and cuddle you all day."

The next five seconds whip past you faster than the speed of light. Before you can even wrap your head around the fact that something in your boyfriend has significantly turned darker, he snatches your hands from under his shirt and pins them above your head, then settles himself between your legs while shadowing his large frame over yours. It takes a moment for your breath to catch up with your heartbeat, suddenly very attentive on your boyfriend's actions.

"Not so adorable now, huh, babygirl?" Justin whispers into your ear, his hot breath fanning over your neck and sending a shiver up your spine in anticipation. You'll never understand how he manages to shift moods so quickly. He's always unpredictable, border-lining hot and cold with you every second of the day. "See, now I think you got the roles mixed up, (Y/N). You're supposed to be my babygirl. Isn't that right?"

"Yes." You mutter, a mix of adrenaline and lust starting to stir in your blood.

"Yes, what?" He snaps.