Cameron Dallas Imagines

Home.

Cameron Dallas.

That name alone sent hundreds of girls in our school into a frenzy of checking their makeup, fixing their hair, looking like dear in headlights, or whispering with their friends. Only a select few tugged down their shirt so their cleavage was more prominent and tugged up their already indecent shorts so they became wedged up their ass.

I shivered. Gross.

Cameron was walking down the hall, and just like every normal day here at school, everyone parting like the red sea had me rolling my eyes as I turned back to my locker, shoving my notebooks and books angrily into my locker.

It was a Monday morning, meaning that everyone under the age of 19 had school today, and anyone in this school had some sort of sports practice. All except me; I was the manager for our football team, the one that Cameron starred on. I was manager before he was on the team, so it's not my fault that my ex-best friend just so happened to forget about me the moment he steps into this school.

I sigh. He's always been like this, always grasping anything he can to rise to the top, shoving anything down that doesn't profit him and his rise to stardom.

And the think that struck me in the heart the most: I was the first thing he's dropped. And I have no idea why, either. He talks to me outside of school but ignores me in school, which makes no sense. It's almost like he's embarrassed to be seen with me.

I wipe my hand down my face in exasperation. I'm so tired with all this shit that comes with being "acquaintances" with Cameron, if you can even call us that.

"Hey." Someone spoke up next to me that had me fumbling with my pencil case before it slapped the ground, too loudly, enough to echo around the hallway.

"What-what are you doing?" I ask Cameron in disbelief. He never talks to me inside of these walls. Anywhere near it, really.

"I'm talking to my friend." He states, and then cocks his head, placing one hand on the lockers and shoving the other into his jeans pocket. "Is that a crime?" He cocks his head, asking me with his eyes more than his mouth.

"Right here, right now, it is a crime." I whisper harshly, slamming my locker door shut and walking quickly in the other direction, the hallway that doesn't hold Cameron.

"No it's not, given there's not a single cop in my sight." He says back, making my stomach churn.

"They could arrest you, with handcuffs. Big, cold handcuffs." I look around the hall with wary eyes, and I cower when I see everyone's watching this exchange between us.

"Come on, you're not even a little bit aroused at seeing me behind bars?" He grabs my arm, tugging me towards what a classroom, hopefully empty because he's touching me right now and it's making me uncomfortable and I can't face any more embarrassment.

He opens the door and roughly shoves me inside, not even caring that I stumble into a table. He closes and locks the door, making me back up warily into the window as he stalks towards me.

The gleam in his eyes looks dangerous, and it's making my skin feel hot under his gaze, but it also makes me feel...nervous, because we're alone, and I can't trust him.

He's not saying anything, and neither am I. I don't know what to say because the words keep getting lodged in my throat as he walks me backwards around a table.

"I can tell you're trying to talk." He takes a step closer, and I bump into a chair, making him advance closer before I hurry around it. "Don't talk; just feel." He grabs my wrists, pulling me to him and catching my breath in my throat when I feel his intense gaze on me, even though we can't see each other.

"You're scaring me." I whisper, pathetically.

He stops cold. "I'm-you're scared of me?" He whispers in disbelief. "How? You've known me your whole life."

I gently take my wrists from his shocked hands and he takes step back, like I slapped him in the face. "No, that's a lie. I've known Cameron my whole life, and this isn't Cameron." I shake my head, making a move towards the door.

He must have regained his senses because he steps in front of me before I can take two steps. "Never once have I heard you call me Cam." He's right; I never call him that ridiculous nickname; his name's Cameron, not Cam. "Is that like a swear word to you or something?"

I want to tell him the real reason why I don't call him Cam, but I can't bring myself to do it. So instead I just say, "Stop changing the subject."

"I'm not trying to, I promise." He walks over to the dark window, sliding the curtains across the rod with a screech and the light comes flooding in.

I sigh with relief mentally; I've always been scared of the dark ever since I was younger.

"I know you're scared of the dark. I'm trying here." He gives me a sad smile and plops his butt down onto the counter by the window. He gazes out the window, no doubt lost in his thoughts.

Should I walk over there, or let him be alone with his thoughts? Before I can make any life-altering opinions, he speaks.

"My whole life you've been something that I've been trying to crack to see what makes you tick. You've always been a mystery to me, and that's something that I couldn't get over, not even now. I've been distant from you because I'm trying to get over you, but my actions before this conversation spoke for me." He doesn't look at me while he talks, and I'm okay with this. He continues while I take slow, cautious steps over to his spot. "I don't know what the fuck is going on with me, but I'm trying to contain myself, and I can't. So can you please just come here so I can hold you?" he beckons me over, and for once, I throw caution to the wind as I step in between his legs.

His hands rest on my hips and I lock my hands around his neck. I'd be lying to myself if I said I wasn't attracted to him.

"Can you do this one thing for me?" He pleads, gently placing his head into the crook of my neck and softly kisses my neck.

It has me shivering with delight and I'm sure my pupils are dilated with desire. "What's that?" I ask, breathless. He hasn't even done anything to me besides kiss my neck, and I'm already melting.

"Kiss me," he breathes, and for once, I don't ask questions.

My lips crash onto his with a passion that I didn't know I possess, and he meets my lips with just enough fire to set my lips and veins on fire, desire filing my heart and mind, clouding over every rational thought I could have.

In this moment, he's mine and I am his.

In this moment, we're nowhere but in each other's arms.

And it feels like home.

A/N:

I hope you love it as much as I loved writing it!

Dedicated to AmberBryant429! This one's for you girl!