s.p. characters x reader

Billie Dean Howard x reader (pt.2)

Wow look at me, updating for the second time in the span of less than a week! Character development I suppose. Anyways, I hope you enjoy this continuation of the previous chapter.

As you stand in the large shower and allow the hot water to wash away your day of travel, you focus on taking a few minutes to reset your mind. Sure, you're going to be sleeping next to your boss in less than an hour, and sure, the thought of being that close to her makes your chest feel as if it's going to burst, but in this moment, you are in the shower, and you are fine. You work your hands through your hair and across your body, massaging out your tense muscles and allowing the steam to clear your mind. Once you've been in the bathroom for more than your fair share of time, you step onto the fuzzy bathmat and dry yourself off, quickly throwing on an oversized t-shirt and flannel pyjama pants, before exiting the room, steam billowing out from the door behind you.

Bille smiles at you as you walk towards the bed, and you return it shyly, murmuring "all yours" as you perch carefully on the edge of the mattress. She nods in reply, gathering her items and walking into the bathroom. You hear the shower start up again as you lie down more comfortably on the bed, grabbing one of the books you brought from the bedside table and flipping to the chapter where you had left off. Soon enough, you hear the faucet shut off, and the sound of the curtain being drawn back as Billie steps out. You are only reading for another minute, however, when you hear the bathroom door crack open, and look up to see Billie poking her head out, gazing at you imploringly. "Y/n, darling, I forgot a pyjama shirt in my suitcase, could you please grab one for me?" Nodding quickly in reply as Billie Dean retreats back into the bathroom, you get out of bed to search for a top.

Billie's suitcase is enormous, and you have no problem locating the compartment dedicated to sleepwear. Well. sleepwear might be a bit of a stretch. The pjs that Billie has packed include a variety of satin camisoles, lacy shorts, and sheer pants, making your choice of nighttime attire seem downright atrocious in comparison. You rifle through them, decidedly avoiding any excess glances at the lace underwear and bras you noticed in the neighbouring compartment, until you find a camisole that seems suitable. You make your way back to the bathroom, knocking on the door softly, trying not to grin when you hear Billie's cheerful "Come in!" Any semblance of joy, however, gives way to shock as Billie turns to greet you, and through the haze of steam you realize Billie is topless. To your utter embarrassment, you feel your eyes widen slightly and your cheeks flare with heat, as your stomach flips painfully in your stomach at the sight of the woman's breasts. You try, really and truly try, to look away immediately, but your body simply will not allow it, and you end up drinking in her appearance: wet blonde hair plastered down her shoulders, dainty collarbones, soft breasts, her skin splattered with small freckles that you itch to trace with your lips.

Once you finally come to your senses, you snap your eyes up to meet Billie's, trying to gauge how much of your distraction she was able to notice. From the look on her face, she didn't miss a thing, and she gazes at you with a look that you could have sworn was teasing, a small smirk pulling at her mouth. Hastily, you thrust the camisole at her, and she gently takes it from your hands, fingers brushing yours, sending another rush of fire to your stomach. "Thank you, sweetheart." You blush even more at the pet name, jerking your head in response as you retreat back to the bedroom. When Billie re-emerges (fully dressed, to your relief,) she pads her way over to you, flicking the main light switch and leaving the room to be lit dimly by the elegant lamp next to the bed. You are already underneath the covers, propped up by pillows that rest against the headboard, gazing at your book once again, although the words barely register and you have now read the same paragraph at least four times. Billie slides under the sheets next to you, and despite the two feet of space left between you, you are acutely aware of her body's placement, and it's as if your mind can map exactly how she is lying in comparison to you.

Billie takes out a book of her own and begins to read, and at this point you decide to lay down fully, unable to kid yourself into believing that you will be able to retain any of your book's events that occurred during the previous chapter. You content yourself with gazing at the ceiling, trying to sneak glances at Billie's side profile as she reads. After she finishes her chapter, she looks over to you: the lamp is on your side of the bed. However, before you can roll over to turn the light off for her, a sly look takes over her face as she moves towards you. You freeze as Billie props herself up on an elbow, reaching her body across yours to reach the light, and oh god her warmth washes over you like a blanket, and you are wrapped in the smell of Chanel perfume and her, and it takes every ounce of your self control not to let out the small gasp that threatens to escape as your body is smothered in hers. Just as fast as it happened, Billie flicks off the light and rolls off of you, and even in the dark you can practically feel her smirk, her obvious awareness of the effect she has on you. You hear her lie back quietly and sigh with exhaustion, before her melodic voice chimes once more from the darkness: "Goodnight darling."

It isn't until much later, long after Billie's breathing has slowed and your eyelids have finally grown heavy, that you are able to settle your thoughts and whisper to the woman next to you.

"Goodnight, Billie Dean."