"Studying"

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Disclaimer: THIS DOES NOT BELONG TO ME.

This is a converted imagine off of Tumblr. All credit goes to owner/ writer.

This da link of the original imagine: https://shawnjpeg.tumblr.com/post/179753244060/ill-be-there-for-you

Here's a lil' smut for y'all

***

"Camila, come back!" Shawn yells, leaping off the couch and reaching for his girlfriend. She dodges her way out his hold, attempting to escape the kitchen. However, Camila's boyfriend has long legs and so he catches her. They are meant to be studying – or, at least, attempt to study. His hands wrap around her waist and she balls her legs up to her chest, arms wrapping around the ones holding her. She throws her head back onto his shoulder, pouting and really tired. "Stop, Camila!"

Camila has an economics test tomorrow – not an exam, but a test. Nevertheless, it does dictate some of their grades. Camila is laser focused but having written four papers in the last two weeks, her focus has deteriorated and she has absolutely no willpower to study.

Shawn woke her up this morning at eight, wanting to get her up and study. He has not gone to university because he knows how important education is. He knows that this is the number one priority. Also, Shawn wants to see her succeed and get out of the trashy job she hates.

"It isn't in my blood, dude," Camila mumbles out, rolling her eyes when her boyfriend carries her back to the kitchen island.

"Okay, so how do you think I made that song?" Shawn begins to say and Camila groans loudly, already knowing where he's going with this. Despite this, he talks over her, finishing, "I worked hard. C'mon, let's do this."

"It's two, we've been at this for six hours, babe!" Camila argues, lolling her head onto the cool counter. She lets the temperature of the counter cool her mind – try to make herself less pissed off at her professors.

She peeps and sees Shawn move to the opposite side of the counter, standing by the sink. "Okay, be honest, we only started at twelve."

"It's a fucking Sunday and I wanted to have a brunch," Camila notes, huffing. She rests her chin in her hands, elbows on the kitchen island. Her boyfriend looks fresh, dressed in grey sweats and a black hoodie.

"Honey, we never have brunch," Shawn points out, sliding over a pile of flash cards. "While you were reading over your notes, I made these."

"Then they're all wrong," Camila states, smirking at her boyfriend.

"Oh, really?" Shawn chuckles. "Pick one up."

Camila shrugs, picking one up. "Okay. . in a perfect competition, what happens in the long-run?" She reads the answer below, and nods her head in approval. "So you are smart!"

Shawn grins shyly, saying, "I told you so. . Now, will you please start working?"

Camila stares at her boyfriend. He is looking at her with a pleading face and she sighs, knowing he only wants what's best for her. "You're right. . but you have to leave otherwise I'm not going to get anything done. ."

Shawn smiles gently, not wanting to push her any further. He goes to her and grabs her head, planting a kiss to her forehead. "I love you, smartass. I'm gonna be on the balcony if you need me."

His hands are just able to leave her face, when she grips onto it, stopping him mid-walk. He turns to her and she shakes her head. Wrapping her hand in his, she tugs him to her. Shawn stands in between her parted legs, as she's sitting on the barstool and tips his head down. "Leave the house is what I mean?"

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