One Bed Trope
❝ 🌊 — lady l: First of all, Happy Halloween to those who celebrate! 🎃 I'm very happy with how it turned out and I hope you all like it too. As always, please forgive any mistakes! 💙🧡
❝tw: perhaps manipulation (?).
❝🌊pairing: soft!yandere percy jackson x gender neutral!reader.
❝word count: 2,536.
— 7k special masterlist.
— tagging: @fangirlmusicbiashoe.
The roadside motel seemed frozen in time — small, dilapidated, and with that air of abandonment that made anyone want to get back in the car and continue their journey. It was the kind of place you'd only stay if you truly had no other option. And, at that moment, you didn't. The mission's budget was tight, and every dollar saved could make a difference.
The neon sign flickered lazily, two burnt letters turning the motel's name into an almost indecipherable word. The reception area — if you could even call that dusty counter a reception area — had a heavy smell of nicotine, mixed with the nauseating scent of cheap disinfectant. Behind the counter, an old fan spun slowly, creaking with each turn, as if it too were tired of being there.
You and Percy had stopped at this remote place after hours on the road. You were alone, traveling at Chiron's behest in search of an important item — something ancient, powerful, and, of course, dangerously lost. This time, it was just the two of you. No Grover chattering, no Annabeth meticulously planning. Just the sound of the engine, the rain on the windshield, and conversations that gradually became more personal than expected.
The whole trip had been… interesting, to say the least. Percy was the same as always — playful, clumsy, with that smile that seemed to bloom with the sunlight. You'd always liked him. You'd always had a crush on Poseidon's son, ever since the first day you saw him at camp. And, let's face it, who could blame you? It wasn't like you were the only demigod to feel something like that for Percy Jackson.
But, despite all the admiration, you never harbored high hopes. Percy was kind to everyone. He was the kind of person who made you feel special, even when he wasn't. And, in your mind, it was never more than friendship — a fondness he bestowed on everyone he considered a friend.
Still... Now, alone on that road, with the world outside silent and the motel room smelling of cigarettes and rain, it was hard not to think that maybe, just maybe, things could be different.
The cold night wind whistled as you pushed open the glass door of the reception area. A small bell jingled, announcing the arrival of unexpected guests. The place seemed even more depressing inside — an old television hissing at a news channel, walls yellowed with age, and a counter with a cracked bell and a dusty candy jar.
Behind the counter, a middle-aged woman chewed gum with visible boredom, leafing through a celebrity magazine. Without fully lifting her gaze, she asked:
"How many nights?"
Percy, still with his hair wet from the rain, rested his elbows on the counter.
"Just one, please. And... A room with two beds."
She typed something on the computer with an almost deliberate slowness. The sound of the keys was the only thing that broke the silence for a few seconds. Then, she let out a heavy sigh.
"Hm... Look, dear, today there's only one room left with a double bed. We had a group of hunters passing through earlier, and they took the last double rooms."
You and Percy exchanged glances, a mixture of embarrassment and disbelief hanging in the air.
"Only one room?" You repeated, trying to confirm.
"That's all there is," The woman said indifferently, extending the key with a fish-shaped keychain. "Or you can sleep in the car."
Percy let out a nervous laugh, scratching the back of his neck.
"Yeah... I guess there's not much we can do, is there?"
You sighed, taking the key.
"No. But you get the floor."
"Oh, sure," He replied with a playful smile. "Son of Poseidon loves to sleep on the floor."
The joke didn't do much to alleviate the sudden heat that rose to your cheeks. You climbed the creaking stairs to the second floor, the sound of rain hitting the windows accompanying every step.
The room was small, lit only by a yellowish lamp. In the center, the double bed occupied almost all the space, the sheets with faded floral prints and a single pillow sunken in the middle. The smell of mold mixed with cheap fabric softener hung in the air.
Percy threw his backpack into the corner and looked around.
"The bed looks comfortable... I think."
You crossed your arms, trying to appear indifferent.
"We'll manage."
He smiled sideways, one of those smiles that made your stomach clench.
"Yeah, we will. Just try not to snore."
You huffed, feigning irritation, but couldn't hide the small smile that escaped.
The room was silent for a few seconds, only the distant sound of rain filling the space between you.
Percy kicked his boots to the side and threw himself back onto the bed, which creaked dangerously under his weight.
"Well, at least it didn't collapse." He murmured, with a lazy smile.
You arched an eyebrow, still standing, holding your backpack.
"That's the least a bed should do, Jackson."
"Hey, don't complain. I've slept in damp caves and on ships full of monsters. This is practically luxury."
He turned his head toward you and, for a brief second, Percy's gaze lingered longer than usual. His hair was messy, some strands stuck to his damp forehead, and his easy smile disappeared, replaced by something more... Gentle.
You pretended not to notice.
"Alright, Mr. Luxury, then you sleep on one side, I'll sleep on the other. No trespassing."
"Sure," he said, raising his hands in surrender. "I promise to behave."
You huffed, taking off your soaked coat and hanging it on the chair. The cold fabric clung to your skin, and you realized the room was colder than you expected. Percy, of course, noticed.
"Are you cold?"
"Just a little."
Without a second thought, he pulled the blanket up and patted the space beside it.
"Then come on, before the temperature freezes our souls."
You hesitated. The mattress seemed too small, the room too cramped, and the sound of the rain outside made everything even more intimate. But refusing would only make the situation more awkward — and, let's face it, you were really cold.
"If you snore, I'll throw you on the floor." You warned, lying down as far away from him as possible.
"Noted," He replied, turning to his side, his face just inches from yours. "But if I freeze to death, it's your fault."
You both fell silent. The old clock on the wall ticked lazily. The rain drummed on the glass, and the sound of Percy's breathing was so close it seemed to synchronize with yours.
"Hey..." He murmured, breaking the silence. "You know what's funny?"
"What?"
"I think this is the first time we've really been alone. Like... No monsters, no crazy quests, no camp. Just.... Us."
You turned your face away, your heart beating faster than you wanted to admit.
"Yeah. Funny, really."
His eyes met yours — green and calm like the sea on a windless morning. For a moment, the world seemed to shrink to that small, musty room, the narrow bed, and the shared breath.
Percy smiled, almost whispering:
"If anyone tells Grover about this, I'll deny it to the end."
You laughed softly, nudging his shoulder.
"Me too."
Time seemed to slow down inside that room.
The rain outside intensified, the wind howling through the cracks of the poorly sealed window. The cold, once bearable, began to seep through the thin blanket as if winter itself had decided to settle there.
You huddled up, trying to turn to your side, but the mattress sank with every movement. Percy was quiet — too quiet. The kind of silence that isn't natural to him.
Then, a soft voice broke the shadows:
"You're shivering."
"I'm not." You answered quickly, even when your teeth were almost chattering.
Percy let out a low, muffled laugh against the pillow.
"Mhm. Sure. The mattress must be dancing on its own, then."
You sighed, hugging your own body.
"It's your fault. Children of Poseidon should know how to warm the environment, I don't know, evaporate the cold."
"That would be more of a child of Hephaestus's thing. I only deal with water, remember?"
"Then evaporate the rain," You retorted, without thinking.
He turned to his side, and the movement made the mattress creak.
"Okay, enough with the pride." His voice was closer now. "Come here, will you?"
You stood still for a moment, your heart racing.
"What?"
"Share the blanket properly, before you turn into a demigod popsicle."
The invitation was simple, innocent even. But when Percy lifted the blanket and you moved closer, the air seemed to change. His warmth was real, immediate. And dangerous — not because it would burn you, but because it would make you forget why you were there.
His shoulder brushed against yours, and the touch made your whole body react.
You could smell the light scent of salt and rain that seemed to be part of him.
Percy's breathing was calm, but his heart, you would swear, beat as fast as yours.
"Better?" He asked softly.
"A little." You tried to keep your voice steady, but it came out trembling.
"See?" He whispered. "I knew I was useful for something."
You laughed involuntarily, and the sound seemed to echo in a strange way, almost too intimate.
The silence returned, this time heavier, denser.
And that's when the thoughts began.
It's nothing much. It's just the cold.
But what if it isn't?
He's your friend.
But... What if you want him to be more than that?
You closed your eyes, trying to push away the thoughts that were coming too fast, too dangerous.
But Percy moved slightly, his arm brushing against yours, and the touch was enough to break down any barrier.
"Hey," He murmured, almost in a whisper. "If you want, I can get the floor."
You opened your eyes. He was looking at you — not with his usual lighthearted humor, but with something different. Something silent and intense.
"No need," You replied, your voice barely audible. "It's fine like this."
His smile appeared, shy, sincere.
And you realized that maybe it was too late to pretend you felt nothing.
The rain stopped sometime in the early morning, but you didn't notice when. The soft sound of the raindrops was replaced by the distant rumble of tires on the road and the lazy hum of the ceiling fan.
You slowly opened your eyes, feeling something warm and heavy on top of you. For a moment, the world still seemed blurry — the yellowed ceiling, the smell of old soap, and the blanket bunched between the two of you.
Then you realized.
Percy's arm was around your waist.
His breath was soft against your neck.
And you were... Absurdly close.
Your body froze, your heart racing.
By the gods, did you sleep like that?
You tried to move carefully, but the gesture made Percy murmur something sleepy — something incomprehensible—before pulling you a little closer, as if his subconscious had decided that holding you was more important than breathing.
The warmth of his skin was both comforting and torturous at the same time. You could feel the rhythm of his heart, the light touch of his fingers against the hem of your shirt.
For a moment, you thought about simply staying there. Pretending you were still asleep. Pretending that this moment could last.
But the next thought came like a bucket of cold water: he has no idea what he's doing.
You took a deep breath, trying to stay calm.
And it was exactly at that moment that Percy opened his eyes.
"Hm... Good morning," He murmured, his voice hoarse with sleep.
His gaze took a few seconds to focus — and when he realized the position they were in, his eyes widened slightly.
"Oh, man... I..." He began, laughing nervously, quickly pulling his arm away. "I must have... Slept awkwardly, I don't know."
"Yeah," You replied, trying not to seem affected. "Slept awkwardly."
The silence that followed was uncomfortable... And sweet. He ran a hand through his messy hair, avoiding direct eye contact with you.
"But, to be fair," He said with a crooked smile, "you're pretty warm to sleep next to."
You huffed, throwing the pillow at him, trying to hide the blush rising up your cheeks.
"Shut up, Peter Johnson."
He laughed, easily dodging the blow.
But deep down, the laughter didn't erase the fact that the atmosphere between you had changed.
Not in a bad way, just... Different.
And, as you packed your bags, trying to act normally, a part of you wondered if he had also felt the same warmth in his chest that night.
Percy knew what he was doing from the start.
When Chiron gave him the mission and said he could choose the itinerary, Percy spent hours researching the route, feigning indecision. He looked for the right motel — not the most comfortable, nor the safest. Just the ideal one. A small, cheap place... And with the "peculiarity" of having only one room available.
It was cowardice, perhaps. Or something worse. But he couldn't help it.
During the trip, every laugh, every conversation thrown to the wind only worsened what he felt. You resting your head against the car window, distracted, the wind messing up your hair. You laughing at his bad jokes, without realizing how much it was destroying him inside.
You trusted him. And he knew he shouldn't want more than that.
But Percy wasn't good at "not wanting." He never was.
When you arrived at the motel and the receptionist said there was only one room with one bed, he feigned surprise. He even rehearsed the expression, the arching of his eyebrows, the awkward smile.
But inside, his heart was racing as if he'd won a war.
Seeing you there, hesitating, trying to maintain your composure while accepting the key... It was almost cruel.
And he felt worse for liking it so much.
Later, when you lay side by side, Percy was silent for a long time, his eyes open in the dark.
The rain pattered against the window, and he could hear the sound of your breathing, calm, confident, completely carefree.
You fell asleep easily.
He didn't.
The room was cold, but the reason for his insomnia wasn't the cold.
It was the desire to get closer — just a little — to feel the warmth emanating from you. And the fear of not being able to stop once he started.
Percy turned to his side, observing the outline of your face under the dim light filtering through the curtains.
You seemed so... Peaceful. So distant from all the chaos that surrounded you.
He slowly reached out, stopping inches from your arm.
He didn't touch. He didn't dare. But he wanted to.
God, how he wanted to.
"Just this once," He thought. "Just to remember it's real."
When sleep finally overcame him, Percy already knew what would happen. That in the morning you would wake up in his arms, and he would have to laugh, pretend, make jokes.
But at that moment, between the sound of the rain and the sweet weight of guilt, he didn't care.
Because, even if it was wrong, even if he never said it out loud, being near you, so close, was all he wanted.
And deep down, perhaps, all he needed.
