Shawmila Imagines

Sunday's

Narrator

Sunday's were their days. No matter how busy they were during the week, their Sunday's would always be spent in each other's company.

The Cuban would wake up first, finding herself smothered into the Canadian's chest. But she didn't mind, she didn't mind at all. She would study his sleeping figure for a few minutes before gently removing herself from his hold. Once she was ready for the day (which was just her in one of Shawn's long shirts and a messy bun) she'd start preparing their usual unhealthy Sunday breakfasts.

Double chocolate chip pancakes doused in chocolate syrup (sometimes accompanied by a couple banana slices). By the time Camila was halfway through making breakfast and brewing coffee for the both of them, Shawn had gotten up and brushed his teeth.

Every Sunday was almost the same.

He'd walk up to her, with only his grey sweats on, leaving his chest bare. He liked to tease her a bit, he knew the effect he had on her and he loved it.

He'd sneak up behind her, slithering his hands around her waist, burying his face into her sweet smelling neck, placing a couple 'good morning' kisses there. Like always, she'd blush and giggle, turning around in his embrace to face him, before kissing him full on the mouth.

He's help her finish making breakfast and they'd take it to the living room. He'd sit on the sofa and pat his lap, wanting her to sit there. She'd blush but oblige happily.

Breakfast would drone on. The Canadian would cut into the chocolate-y pancake and always, always, feed the first bite to Camila. He'd alternate between bites for her and himself, all the while Camila would be either stroking his bare chest, or running her fingers down his spine.

After breakfast, the dishes would left unwashed at the sink. The lovebirds would go back to their unmade bed and spend the rest of their morning/afternoon whispering their thoughts to each other.

They'd lay sideways, facing each other. Camila's right leg on top of Shawn's, his hand on her bare knee, caressing it softly. His other hand would be supporting his head slightly. Camila's hands would be everywhere (well not everywhere). Stroking his razor-sharp jaw, or pulling him forward by his chin every 5 seconds just so she could kiss him.

Shawn didn't mind at all. He'd waited 4 years for her. Yearned for her touches and her kisses for 4 years. He was in Camila-heaven.

Lunch was often just leftovers from the week being eaten in bed, the dishes once again left at the sink, unwashed.

After lunch, they would continue their soft touches and whispers in the bedroom. Somewhere along the line, the soft, innocent kisses, would turn into hot, heavy and rushed kisses. I love you's would be shared between every kiss and every breath they took. After the heated kisses, a shower was a surety.

As Camila would peel off Shawn's long shirt from her body, he'd stare at her, admiring her as she blushed. They'd get into the shower together. Shawn would help the Cuban wash her hair. After that, she'd lean up on her toes to wash his as he bent down for her for her assistance and to place soft kisses on the spot right above her chest.

After they'd stayed in the shower long enough that their fingers and toes had pruned up, Camila would dry herself and change into one of Shawn's hoodies. Shawn; into his sweats.

Shawn would make her sit on a stool as he blow dried her hair. Loving looks would be shared through the mirror as he dried her long hair. By the time it was nice and dry, Shawn's hair would have air dried and Camila would help him comb through it. He hated combing his hair.

Usually they'd order takeout. But if they were feeling up to it, they'd try their best to cook a meal at home, trying to experiment with different (beginner-level) recipes.

After the hustle that was dinner, they'd return to their lovely bed.  Social media was a no go for the lovebirds on Sunday's. But they'd play around on snapchat, trying out the filters or try to learn tiktok dances which they'd fail at 90% of the time. The kissing would return. The wine during dinner would give him courage which would always lead him to get a little extra heated up while kissing the love of his life.

Somehow, every Sunday night, they'd end up in bed.m, their kisses a little more desperate, a little more heated, a little more lustful. Clothes would often end up being discarded in a matter of minutes.
Shawn would hold the Cuban in his arms, muttering I love you's in her ear as he thrusted into her until they both reached their points of climax.

Panting from utmost pleasure, they'd lean closer to each other as if they'd grow short of breath if they ever let go. Every night, Camila would fall asleep in Shawn's comforting embrace as he'd whisper in her ear;

"You're the best thing that's ever happened to me."

•••

Wkkdkdks
Hiii I've been updating really irregular but I've had no time but finally assignments have stopped coming in for me so expect more updates (maybe lol)

I was going to post this on shawmila's anniversary  but I broke my phone that day so ✌🏼 for that. Got a new phone. (Thank god for savings)

anyways, requests are open so feel freeeeee!!

Q: Something's Gotta Give or Consequences?

-Taylor💋