DISCLAIMER: Do not own Big Time Rush, all the rights go to Scott Fellows. This is purely fan-fiction and what sparked this is my nostalgia from my tween days. I even get nostalgic for the bad times as a tween. This written fan-fiction is owned by me, for the creative imagination.

Rated M For: sexuality exploration, extreme language, and minimal violence.

If plagiarism is put into action, the written plagiarized work will be reported and taken down by the website itself, and with me ripping your head off.

Let me relish in my childhood, and write a fan-fiction about it. Okay? I know I'm a grown woman now, and no longer a child.

Alright, for my horny BTR fan girls who are now grown women, like me—but still think of those four guys from time to time—you know, the four guys who made us tween girls swoon and laugh simultaneously. I owned an account on this website prior in my earlier years, and it obtained my BTR fan-fictions; and I regret deleting them—so here is my redemption.

Just not with those fucking grammatical mistakes—my god, my writing skills definitely improved over the years.