Can I please have a Connor Stoll x Hades!readee but it's before the war of Manhattan so she doesn't have a table or cabin. But because she doesn't have a cabin or table she's pretty much aloud to sit where she wants and is aloud to kind of sleep in Percy's cabin if their close friends (they know that her and him won’t do anything together because he’s literally in love with Annabeth) she she'd find out who her dad if because of Nico. I'm sorry if this is too much or bad, I'm sorry (I love your work😔😋😣)
im sorry if i didnt understand what you meant!
itle: somewhere to stay pairing: connor stoll x hades!reader warnings: pre-war manhattan, reader doesn’t know parentage at first, soft + a little angst, found family vibes, short, not proofread, for the sake of this story we'll pretend it was allowed to sit with other people and stuff
you don’t belong anywhere.
it’s not said out loud, not really, but it’s there, in the way people hesitate for half a second when you sit down at their table, in the way conversations shift just slightly like they’re not sure if you’re supposed to be part of them or not. it’s in the way you don’t have a place to go when the day ends, when everyone else drifts back to their cabins like it’s second nature, like it’s something they’ve always had.
you don’t.
so you improvise.
sometimes that means sitting with apollo cabin because they’re loud enough not to care, sometimes it’s hermes because they’re used to extras, sometimes it’s just wherever there’s an empty space and no one immediately tells you to leave.
no one ever does, which almost makes it worse.
because it’s not rejection, it’s just… nothing.
like you don’t quite exist in the same way everyone else does.
the only place that ever feels even a little close to normal is cabin eleven.
which is ironic, considering it’s the most chaotic place in camp.
“you’re back,” connor says one afternoon, not even looking up from whatever he’s messing with as you step inside.
you lean against the doorframe, crossing your arms. “don’t sound too excited.”
“i’m thrilled,” he deadpans. then glances up, a grin already forming. “you here to steal our stuff again?”
“you don’t have anything worth stealing.”
“wow. rude.”
you shrug, but there’s a small smile there. it’s easy here. loud, messy, unpredictable, but easy.
no one asks questions, no one looks at you like you don’t belong. they just… let you exist.
and connor... connor always notices when you leave.
✦ ✦ ✦
you end up in percy’s cabin more often than you expect.
it starts as a one-time thing: late night, nowhere else to go, the quiet of the camp feeling heavier than usual, and somehow turns into something routine without either of you really acknowledging it.
“you can stay,” he says the first time, already half-asleep, like it’s obvious. “it’s not a big deal.”
it feels like a big deal.
but you don’t say that.
you just nod, settle on another bunk with a blanket, and try not to think too hard about how this is the closest thing you’ve had to a place of your own in… ever. residing in the hermes cabin means being cramped on the floor next to forgotten kids and tired teens. but cabin 3 is big and somehow easier to stay in, even if it's hard to fall asleep somewhere so quiet.
after that, it’s unspoken.
if you show up, he doesn’t question it.
he just shifts over slightly, makes space without making it obvious, like he knows you don’t want attention drawn to it.
and he’s right.
he usually is.
“you know people are gonna start talking,” you tell him once, watching the way the water outside reflects faintly through the window.
“about what?”
“this.”
he frowns slightly. “we’re literally just existing.”
you huff out a quiet laugh. “yeah. that’s enough for them.”
he considers that.
then shrugs. “they’ll get over it.”
you glance at him.
“…you don’t care?”
“no,” he says simply. then, after a beat, “and they know nothing’s happening.”
you raise an eyebrow. “oh?”
“yeah,” he says, like it’s obvious. “i’m not exactly subtle.”
you snort. “that’s one way to put it.” percy's been head over heels for annabeth for the longest you can remember. you've been on his ass for months. he's too oblivious to realise it's not one-sided.
“hey—”
“no, it’s fine,” you cut in, smiling faintly. “it’s just… funny.”
he rolls his eyes, but he’s smiling too.
it’s easy.
it’s always easy with him.
but it’s not the same.
⟡ ⟡ ⟡
you find out by accident.
or maybe not accident.
maybe it was always going to happen like this.
nico finds you near the edge of camp, where things get quieter, where fewer people go unless they’re looking for space.
you don’t hear him approach.
you just feel it.
that shift in the air, something colder, heavier.
familiar in a way that doesn’t make sense.
“…you feel it too,” he says.
you turn, frowning slightly. “feel what.....?”
he studies you for a long moment, dark eyes unreadable.
“…you don’t know,” he realizes.
“know what?”
there’s a pause. small, but very, very tense.
“you’re like me.”
your stomach drops.
“i don’t know what that means.”
“yeah,” he mutters. “i figured.”
he steps closer, slower now, like he’s trying not to overwhelm you.
“you don’t have a cabin,” he says. “no one claimed you.”
“yeah. i know that part.”
“there’s a reason.”
your chest tightens.
“…just say it.”
he hesitates.
which is worse than anything else.
“you’re a child of hades.”
the words land heavier than they should.
like something clicking into place.
like something you didn’t even realize was missing suddenly making sense.
you don’t say anything.
you don’t know what to say.
nico watches you, quieter now.
“…i didn’t mean to just drop that on you,” he adds, a little awkwardly.
you let out a breath you didn’t realize you were holding.
“…no,” you say slowly. “it’s fine.”
it’s not fine.
but it’s something.
✦ ✦ ✦
you don’t tell anyone right away.
not percy.
not anyone.
but somehow—
connor finds you anyway.
he always does.
“you’ve been avoiding people,” he says, dropping down beside you like this is normal, like he hasn’t just interrupted your entire train of thought.
“no i haven’t.”
“you have.”
you sigh, staring straight ahead. “you’re annoying.”
“you keep saying that like it’s gonna stop me from talking.”
“…it won’t.”
“exactly.”
there’s a pause.
he nudges your shoulder lightly.
“so what’s wrong?”
“nothing.”
“that’s a lie.”
you don’t answer.
he doesn’t push.
not right away.
which is new. people tend to push, and push, and gnaw at you, crawl into your brain till you willingly give information. for the sake of being alone, or the sentiment that they might help. but when was 'talking it out' helped?
“…you don’t have to tell me,” he says after a second, quieter now. “but don’t pretend it’s nothing.”
you swallow.
because you could brush it off. make a joke. walk away.
“…i know who my dad is,” you say.
he stills slightly.
“…oh.”
“yeah.”
“that’s… good, right?”
you let out a small, humorless laugh. “sure.”
he studies you for a second.
“okay,” he says slowly. “so why do you look like it’s not.”
you hesitate.
“…because it’s hades.”
the silence that follows is different.
not awkward.
not uncomfortable.
just still.
“…huh,” he says after a second.
you glance at him, expecting something—shock, maybe, or concern, or even distance.
you don’t get any of that.
“that makes sense,” he adds.
you blink. “what?”
“the whole ‘you randomly show up and disappear and no one knows where you belong’ thing,” he explains. “very underworld vibes.”
you stare at him.
“…that’s your reaction?”
“what, you want me to freak out?” he shrugs. “i’ve seen weirder.”
you let out a breath, something in your chest loosening just a little.
“…you’re unbelievable.”
“yeah, i get that a lot.”
there’s a pause.
then, softer,
“you still have somewhere to stay,” he says.
you look at him. “yeah?”
“yeah,” he nods. “cabin eleven doesn’t kick people out.”
something about that hits harder than it should.
“…and you?” you ask, quieter now.
he grins, like he always does.
“i don’t either.”
⟡ ⟡ ⟡
that night, you don’t go to percy’s cabin.
you end up in cabin eleven instead.
no one questions it.
no one makes it a big deal.
they just shift, make space, carry on like this has always been normal.
like you’ve always been part of it. you have, but it was so rare you actually spent time in your assigned cabin that it didn't feel like it.
connor tosses you a blanket without looking, already halfway into whatever conversation he was having before you walked in.
“don’t steal anything,” he adds.
you roll your eyes, settling in anyway.
“no promises.”
he laughs.
and for the first time in a while—
you don’t feel like you’re borrowing space.
you just feel like you’re there.
home.
