s.p. characters x reader

Billie Dean Howard x reader

Hello I have returned from my hiatus. I have read a few pics with this prompt, this is pretty unoriginal, I just wanted to try it out. Reader and Billie stay in a hotel room together. There's only one bed:)

Anything in Italics is internal monologue, or just me filling in gaps; hopefully it makes sense with context.

Reader is Billie Dean Howard's assistant, they are on the way to the hotel they're staying at while Billie attends a business conference.

As you lean your head against the window of the passenger seat, you gaze at the hazy reflection of Billie's elegant side profile as she concentrates on the road. You have both been on the road for seven hours at this point: you're tired, bored, and you want a shower. Luckily, your uninterrupted view of your boss is keeping you occupied for the last stretch of the trip. You just can't help but study her; dreamy blonde hair cascading down her shoulders, soft lips that purse every so often in annoyance at the surrounding drivers, deep brown eyes framed by dark lashes, and her hands, gripping the steering wheel with sure fingers, rosy acrylic nails that accentuate their dainty length... pearl necklace that nestles at her throat, leading to the gentle curve of her breasts, covered by a silk blouse that you itch to unbutton and-

"Y/n? Did you hear me?" Fuck. You jerk your head away from the window to look at the woman beside you, "your boss," you scold yourself, and try to remember what she said, but your mind had been otherwise occupied. You settle for a noncommittal humming noise, hoping that she will decipher a response within it that she wants. She sees right through you, of course, and chuckles softly at your antics. You have a feeling that she knows exactly what you had been so distracted by. "I said we're only a few minutes away from the hotel, darling, and I wanted to know if you'd like any food before we got there." While you were quite hungry, you did not want to inconvenience your boss, so you politely decline, silently deciding to purchase a snack from the hotel vending machine. You are immediately betrayed by your stomach, however, which growls in protest. Without a word, Bille smirks and turns left at the next intersection, pulling into the parking lot of a Tim Hortons, sign glowing in the dark. (I pity the people who have never experienced Tims. Come to Canada.)

Billie insists on going in to get the food, and refuses your offer of payment with a wave of her elegant hand. It's not until she has disappeared into the building for over five minutes that you realize you didn't even tell her what you wanted, but before you have the chance to climb out of the car, you see her distinctive silhouette emerge from the restaurant, a to go bag in hand.

When she climbs into the car and passes you the bag, you are overcome with a fluttering in your stomach, because she knows your order. Sure it's a small thing, but it's something, a gesture that proves she pays attention to you, she knows things about you, and here is proof, in a brown bag containing a caprese sandwich and a vanilla dip donut, as well as the iced cappuccino that she passes you over the centre console. Thanking her profusely, you devour your meal as Billie continues driving, and lean contentedly back in your seat until she makes one final turn and you have arrived at your hotel.

Since Billie is something of a celebrity, you are immediately swarmed with hotel employees offering their assistance, and before you know it you and your boss are being ushered into a large elevator while a well dressed man takes care of your bags. Your room is on the top floor, and as the elevator makes its slow progress you realize how truly exhausted you are, and you sag slightly. You're sure you will fall over, but before you have the opportunity to topple sideways you are steadied by a slim yet deceptively strong arm, secured protectively around your waist. Well, fuck. You certainly aren't tired anymore. In every place that Billie's body is pressed into yours, small shocks run through, as if she herself is a conductor of energy. Trying desperately to control your breathing, you stand stock-still and wait until the elevator finally gives a cheerful "ding," and you follow Billie as she unwraps herself from your side and begins to stride down the hallway. Gazing around you at your luxurious surroundings, you have to stop yourself from crashing into Billie as she stops at the door that must lead to your room.

Billie Dean walks into the room first, casually dropping her purse on the table next to the door as she continues forward. You follow her more unsteadily, still trying to calm your shaky breathing from the brief yet electric contact that occurred on the elevator. It's not until you have entered the room fully that you realize Billie is no longer walking around, and is instead halted in a spot to your right, with a face that tells you she is studying you, searching for a reaction. Reaction to what? You wonder. Seems like a pretty normal hotel room, except for the fact that it clearly costs a small fortune, obviously. But it's just the usual. Bathroom, balcony, small fridge, television, a bed... oh.

Bed. As in bed, singular. In a shared hotel room that you are living in for the next week. With your boss. Your gorgeous, kind, intelligent, hot, boss, who you may or may not have a crush on. So that means...

A low chuckle from beside you, a smirk on Billie's lips, a certain look in her eyes. "Well, darling. Would you prefer to sleep on the right or the left?"

part two coming asap:)

THIS IS NOT THAT BAD ACTUALLY!?