James Maslow Imagines (Clean Version)

Teach Me...Please?

The lit up phone loomed menacingly in your hand as you hesitated with your decision. Should you call him? You both had a great time the other day but was it enough to set you apart from the others fans? Surely you must have if he had given you his number. 


The meet and greet lunch sweepstakes that you had won the month before was a dream. Having the chance to meet all of the boys in Big Time Rush was a once in a lifetime opportunity but finding a common interest with your crush that was strong enough to land you a second encounter was near impossible. And you had accomplished just that.

Letting a shaky breath escape past your lips, a weary finger pressed the send button that had taunted you for what seemed like ages. Raising it to your ear, your heart seemed to sync with the rings that slowly arrived.

'Please pick up.' Silently wishing for him to do so, you knew the chances were slim. As a celebrity, surely he would have more important things to do than pick up a fangirl's phone call.

"Hello?" You froze. Even if you had been wishing for the very action to occur, you never expected it to ever happen. Pulling yourself out of a shocked trance, you shook your head as words left your lips in a shaky manner.

"James? It's (y/n). The one who won the lunch sweepstakes." There was a pause when you said this. Would he even remember something like that? He must have done those things more than you could count.

"(y/n)? I remember you. Never had I met a girl who though so strongly for the beach." He remembered. Letting a small laugh escape your lips, you nodded before realizing that he wouldn't see the action.

"Yeah. Hey, listen. About that surfing lesson you mentioned, would you mind I took you up on that offer?" There it was again. That pause. Your breath caught in your throat as you awaited his response, desperately hoping for his approval.

"I'm free today. Actually, this is my only free day in awhile. Would that be ok?"

"Of course." Jumping at the opportunity, a grin spread across your face as you checked your appearance in the nearby mirror. You didn't look that bad but it wasn't good enough to be seen by James Maslow. Flattening your hair with your hand, you held the phone with your cheek as you rummaged through your closet.

His own laugh is your response as your heart stops, the sound bringing a blush to rise on your cheeks. "Can I have your address? I pick you up, say, at noon."

You had wanted to respond immediately. To tell him step by step directions to see him on your doorstep in all his glory. But your conscience arose as your teeth bit into you lip, the previous actions of searching through your closet paused for the moment. "I couldn't ask for you to do that for me. I can meet you there."

"I can't let a pretty girl like you do that." Letting a silent squeal loose, you complied as your (e/c) eyes finally caught sight of the swimming suit and outfit you desired.

"I'll be there soon."

"Thanks again. I'll be waiting."

Could this day be any more perfect? Glancing at the clock on your bedside table, your eyes widened as you caught side of the time. He was going to be here in a little over an hour and you weren't ready at all. Expecting him to decline, you were still adorned in your comfortable clothing.

That needed to be changed. And fast.

***

The sharp ring from your front door caught your attention quickly as your nerves escalated. What were you doing? This wasn't going to lead to your dreams of finding your Prince Charming. If anything, the member of Big Time Rush already had a cover girl of his own.

Shaking the thoughts aside, a smile formed on your lips as your hand turned the silver doorknob only to reveal the man that caught your breath with each glance.

"James." A smile matching your own, his hand raised to wave softly as he took a step closer towards you.

"Hey." Glancing down at your apparel, he brought his gaze to your own once more as his smile seemed to widened. "You look great."

The compliment had left the blush that you desperately tried to push back reappear as your gaze shifted downwards, embarrassment suddenly washing over you over the clothing you had chosen. Without noticing, you had forgot the branding your friends had placed on your shirt. The noticeable words, James Maslow is mine, was displayed clearly to the said man and you had desperately wanted to climb back into your fortress of an apartment and never return.

"Thank you. Ummm, should we go?" A small nod was your response as you shut the door behind you and followed your 'date' into the car.

***

"Straighten you back a little more. Perfect." The day had been rough. Hours of form practicing seemed to now drag on as you readjusted your position, frustrated that it still wasn't coming as naturally as you had hoped.

You had wanted to go on the water. Taste the salt as it sprayed into your mouth like the way it always did when you dove into the cold. Now, as the sun shone on your almost bare back, you had never felt more tense. Surfing wasn't the relaxed sport you had thought it would be. Well, at least the beginnings weren't.

But the instructions coming from the man beside you had urged you to continue, a renewed stamina continually filling you as you tried to make him proud. You didn't want to appear as the weak girl but as the one who stayed by her actions and held true to them.

But it was getting harder to do so with the pain your back emitted.

"That's enough for now." Holding in the breath of relief, your feet quickly carried you off the light colored surfboard into the sinking sand. Taking another step forward though, the wrap clutching your ankle to the wood tightened on reflex and your balance swayed. Closing your eyes sharply for the impact and embarrassment, it never came as you wearily opened your eyes.

There underneath you was a bare chested James, his arms wrapped tightly around you to prevent the fall you had experienced too many times before.

"James!" Forgetting about your position, worry quickly took over as you inspected his body for wounds only to receive a short laugh.

"Are you ok?"

"I should be asking the same thing you idiot. I-" Then it washed over you. The position the two of you had now taken. Your face flushing the darkest shade of red, you quickly moved to stand only for the arms around you to tighten.

"Don't. I like this."

"What?" You wouldn't know the serene feeling that took over him even in this situation nor would you know the way he felt in the given moment. You would only see the way his hazel eyes had softened when he looked to you, your (h/c) sticking to your forehead from your previous activities with a charm that he believed only you could pull off.

"What are you doing tomorrow?"