Justin Bieber Abuse Novels & Stories

Yet you sit there and fantasize about a guy who hates your guts, you are so unbelievable! And if not for the fact that we are stuck in this deal, I would have left you to your stupid fantasies, you can have a wet dream about him for all I fucking care!” He does this every damn time. Whenever I daydream about a guy, or whenever he finds me crushing after a new guy, he gets furious and he abuses me verbally and I responded to his abuses in the same angry tone he uses on me. The last time this happened was when I told him I wanted Drake for myself, and when he angrily walked out on me, I went all furious on him as well and I told him to go screw himself I was like, “Screw you, Justin!

I stand, at the ready, in case he wants to try anything unpredictable. “Thank you, Nelson. While in the dungeons, I had plenty of time to contemplate my choices over the last twelve years. I may not have always understood that Bram Hendricks was a deceptive, and manipulative, person, but, eventually, I knew what he was. He uses us. He abuses us- emotionally, physically…sexually…” Justin’s voice trails off and his cheeks turn red in embarrassment. Did Bram sexually abuse Justin? What the fuck?! I was about to speak, but Justin picked his head up and continued.

He started, only to get a shrug from Bob and a smile from Jini. "How have you been, Justine?" Jini asked. Justin lowered his head, feeling Bob's indifference. "I've been.. in a hell the past few days." He started, sighing in an attempt to feel at ease. He reached out his hands, holding Bob and Jini's hand across the table. He felt Bob flinch, eyes boring on him. "I'm sorry." Justin looked down, feeling ashamed. "I know you only wanted to check on me, but then... I treated you both so badly." He bit his bottom lip, wanting to prevent it from quivering.

"Justin, you can't. He has pictures of the deals. He has bank records. If you come here, he will send you to federal prison. You have to stay away." "I don't care about prison!" Justin yelled, his protective instincts taking over. "We have proofs too. We have your photos of being abused by him. We have proofs of his illegal activities. I am not leaving you with that monster! Ryan and I are going to—" Justin suddenly stopped talking. He cut himself off, and a silence fell over the phone. "Justin?" I asked. "I tried to call Reaper. His phone is disconnected. Is he okay? Let me talk to him."

One night while tending to my wrists, Damian asked about my bipolar. I told him that one of my ex-boyfriends was abusive, but I didn’t tell him that I was, well, gang-raped. I had only told Rai about it. I didn’t want others to know, not even my family. Damian froze when he heard that I had been abused for months by my ex-boyfriend. “That bastard.” Anger filled his voice. He was so angry that he unconsciously squeezed my injured wrist.

"You've been coming by the club more often than usual recently, Justin." "That's because I'm on edge," Justin said glumly. "Where are Arthur and Joseph?" "Don't mention them!" Justin snapped. "It'll be just the two of us today." Damian frowned. "Did you get into a fight with them?" "We went our separate ways." Justin picked up his glass and drained his liquor, not wanting to continue the subject. Noting his foul mood, Damian dropped the questions and merely studied the drink in his hand. "What's the deal with Serena and Mollie's abduction?"

How could someone who laughed like that have once tried to die? "Please... don't keep me in the dark anymore," I begged. My voice trembled despite my effort to keep it steady. My throat felt painfully tight. "It's killing me. Everything is making me feel like I wasn't worth anything. First Dad, then the divorce, and now... this information—" "Justin was assaulted by his father's mistresses when he was thirteen." She looked directly into my eyes as she said it. Her voice was flat, too flat. Like a blade sliding across glass.

I begged in a brittle tone. “Don’t worry, you are going to enjoy it,” he whispered and tossed his shirt on the floor. He climbed onto the bed beside me, plastering kisses on my face, neck, shoulders, and down to my chest, making me recoil. “This is abuse, Jaiden. I hate you,” I cried, swaying my head sideways, hoping to resist his touch. Without minding my words, he tore my crop top. He traced his finger over my bare thigh to under my skirt,

"You can't get married to her, her reputation is scarred, just last week she was caught with that old film producer and just when I covered it up, this one hits… she's got too many scandals, we'll have to find another girl for you." "Who is it this time?" "The Wilson family's daughter." "But-" his phone's buzz interrupted. "Hold on." He said and got his glasses before picking up his phone, he suddenly started laughing, "JUSTIN SMITH ACCUSED OF RAPE." He read out. "What?" I asked but he only went on laughing. "The media nowadays…" he laughed, "they just bring up crazy stor-" he then started coughing, I remained unfazed and in some minutes his coughing had turned into a smile, "you know me so

I continued. Jaleen trembled and shook her head. "N-no..." "Then what you're doing is called abuse!" I angrily declared. "I... I..." Jaleen was unable to refute my words and was sweating profusely, trembling violently. "Your son already has a mate. You should be treating Stacey well, not bringing another woman in to abuse her and strutting around like some dignified woman after doing so! What the hell are you trying to prove? Did you want Ben to cheat on his wife and take on a mistress? Or did you want Ben to dump Stacey?"