camren one shots

shameless

Music is just as important to her as breathing. She wouldn't know what to do without it. It's saved her from a lot of stuff. A few years back, her depression had almost swallowed her whole. She was trying to figure her life out, really, when the bad feelings struck her. And had it not been for the new music she'd discovered, then, who knows what would have happened to her. She sighs. It isn't just for the music, of course. She isn't kidding herself; she knows she wasn't healed by it. But it helped her go out and get help.

She's on medication now. Medication that works . It makes her way less anxious, for starters, and it helps her deal with her overthinking. She is able to sleep at night, and this means she is able to get out of bed every morning.

She can't stand people who pretend that tablets are the enemy. Who refuse to take their meds. Because they do help. She most likely wouldn't be here without them, so she'll defend medication-based therapy any day.

Say it louder, say it louder
Who's gonna love you like me, like me?
Say it louder, say it louder
Who's gonna touch you like me, like me?

Oh boy. Lauren blushes---with her cheeks becoming the color of an actual tomato---and she quickly fishes her phone out of the pocket of her jeans. Her heart is racing; it feels as if she's just been caught stealing or doing some other illegal thing. Although, she supposes that listening to a really explicit song in a holy establishment kind of equals to doing something that is against the law. She's just glad nobody can read her thoughts.

Ooh, said you wanna be good, but you couldn't keep your composure
Ooh, said you wanna be good, but you're begging me to come over
Ooh, come over, ooh
Saying, who's gonna fuck you like me? Yeah

Because they are a whole other kind of explicit. To distract herself from them, Lauren starts walking along the path that leads up to the church's parking lot. She shakes her head a few times, trying to rid herself of the scenes that are currently playing in her head, but it doesn't really work. So, by the time she stops right next to a shiny black BMW, her brain has almost been completely taken over by the images of herself on top of another woman. Not just on top of her, inside her. And, holy God, they're both sweaty. They're panting, hard, and their hair is messy, and Lauren's eyes are closed---maybe because she doesn't actually have a specific woman to imagine---and she's rocking her hips into her lover's, and she's incredibly turned on, herself, and--

I don't wanna hurt you, but you live for the pain
I'm not tryna say it, but it's what you became
You want me to fix you, but it's never enough
S'why you always call me, cause you're scared to be loved

Lauren bites her lip a bit too hard.

Her mind goes blank for a second. Then, suddenly, she's lying next to her lover, holding her close, whispering into her ear that she loves her, that she'll always be there for her. That she wants to be with her, not for a day, not for a night, but forever.

"You look like you're going through a whole bunch of emotions there. Are you okay?"

Her head snaps up. Her heart starts racing again, too, afraid she's just been caught for real. Wide green eyes scan the person that's now very obviously standing in front of her, trying to make sense of the situation. Their face looks soft and they have long hair and Lauren really hopes that whoever this is cannot read thoughts. Although---they did notice she's been lost inside her head, so maybe they can read her-- even if it's just facial expressions, they might still have given her away and-- Lauren blushes an even darker red than before. It being the only thing she can think of doing right now, she looks right past the intruder, and she runs her hand through her locks, trying to escape the person's questioning, almost examining look.

She clears her throat. "Yeah, I'm fine."

The incredulous glance that her counterpart throws her gives her chills---without even seeing it. "No, you're not."