you make me so hot, make me wanna drop (you're so good to me) (Percy/Annabeth)

"Man, I really wanna kiss you right now."

Seriously, sometimes her boyfriend had the worst timing. No, all the time.

Percy and Annabeth were currently stuffed inside the elevator of her father's office building, filled with thick-bodied businessmen who glanced impatiently at the their watches and women who carried thick clouds of Chanel No. 5 that knocked the air out of Annabeth's lungs. They were somewhere along the back, squashed in the corner, hips brushing, arms touching and Percy was gazing down at her with eyes darkening from more than faint desire.

"It's probably just the dress," she shrugged, popping an M&M in her mouth. She was wearing a burgundy-colored wrap dress with violet undertones that frilled down at the bottom, barely scraping her thighs, one glossy leather sleeve the only thing tethering the dress to her body that just looked gorgeous on her. It made her unbelievably sexier than she already was and made Percy just want to rip his clothes off. He had long ago formed a permanent resentment towards the dress, and the dress clearly hated him too since it hugged her curves way more than a usual dress should have.

"It's definitely the dress," he grumbled under his breath.

Annabeth smirked, an evil one. Oh, he totally wanted her. She then reached up a hand, holding an M&M — blue colored, obviously — and slid it oh-so-slowly in between her lips, momentarily sucking on her finger afterwards, relishing the taste. And the pained look on Percy's face.

Tease.

"You're doing that on purpose," he almost whined.

"Am not, Seaweed Brain."

He tapped his foot just like the rest of the people inside, until finally the ping of doors opening sounded and everyone filed out in a hurry. Annabeth was nearly to the exit when Percy suddenly slammed an arm in front of her face, stopping her. She could barely register surprise before the doors slid closed and Percy shoved her against the wall, lips slanting over hers, tongue parting her lips instantly, pushing his fingers into her hair. She moaned in response, but then tried to twist away, head breaking free for a moment, lips pink and swollen.

"Percy, someone could come in — "

"Hush. Don't jinx it." And when Annabeth shifted beneath him, brushing against where he was hard for her, her thoughts dissolved into hard lust and desire, hiking up a leg to wrap around his hips. She dragged her mouth up the side of his face, breath warm against his skin, drizzling kisses. He grasped her hips, mouth hot on hers again, tongue swiping at her lower lip. He nearly snarled as she grasped his member through his pants and she just had to laugh. He squeezed her thigh again, hitting that spot which made her arch her spine and moan his name. She tried to grip on to something, but her fingers slipped off the flat surface of the wall. Percy's shirt was now on the floor.

She eyed the bulge in his pants and tried not to smile too much as she popped the button of his jeans undone, deliberately pulling the zipper down slowly, until he grabbed her hand and pushed his pants and boxers down to his knees. Annabeth felt the heat overtake her, stronger than a tidal wave, lust completely blackening her vision, setting every cell aflame. All she could see was Percy, Percy, Percy.

"I need you to be inside me."

"You got it, Wise Girl," Percy breathed, head falling to her shoulder before sinking his teeth into her bare shoulder, causing her to gasp and arch even more against him. His fingers raked up her thighs, clawing her dress up to her waist, where he peeled off her soaked panties. His fingers drew slow, teasing swirls that drove her insane against her sex, bring her so, so close. He whispered, "You're amazing," into her ear and she nearly tipped over the edge.

She bit her lip again, trying extra hard to be quiet, but when he sank into her, slowly at first and then increasing his rhythm harder and faster, she dug her nails between his shoulder blades and let out this really loud moan that not even the elevator walls could smother out. He lifted her off her feet, fingers again grazing against her bare skin, sending hot waves of pleasure down her body. Her fingers trailed down his spine to the small of his back. His weak spot. She rubbed her fingers in constant circles there and he groaned against her collarbone in obvious pleasure, tossing his head back before crashing his lips to her mouth, tasting like sea salt and heat.

Her face was flushed, breath hitching inside her throat and he kissed her cheek, nosing his way into where her neck became her shoulder. She dug her fingers into his bicep.

"Gods, you're so good to me, aren't you, Wise Girl?" he panted against her neck, sweat glistening on his skin. She made a soft noise from the back of her throat, dragging her nails down his back, nearly tearing the skin apart. She pulled him closer, sinking him into her deeper, him moving tortuously slow again.

Annabeth felt him thrust into her, walls closing around him and she rolled her hips, fingers tracing patterns onto his skin.

"You too, Seaweed Brain," Annabeth barely managed to say before he angled his hips back against hers, grinding hard and nailing that spot inside her that had her arching back, curling her toes, throwing her head back against the wall and practically screaming his name, stars dancing in front of her eyes.

"Prove it."

either way, I am running back to you (Nico/Rachel)

Whenever Nico di Angelo was broken, battered and bruised, she was the one he would always run to for help. Her, Rachel Elizabeth Dare, the mortal Oracle of Delphi, rich girl, stained with paint, frizzy-haired and freckle-spattered, his polar opposite. But he didn't seem to mind . . . or care.

Whenever he needed a ride to Camp Half-Blood for emergencies, she was always the one to lend him a ride. There, he would always flip on the radio with a blank look, not annoyed by the loud rock music she loved blasting out of the speakers. Then they'd talk about nothing in particular. She once asked how he liked this music if he was, you know, almost a billion or something. He actually smiled, a rare, beautiful thing.

Whenever he randomly shadow-traveled into her living room, bloody scratches stark against his skin, body pale and weak, ready to collapse on the marble floor, she was always the one to catch him, only thinking about her concern for his well-being, not Oh my freaking gods! How will I explain an attractive male suddenly popping into our home in thin air to my dad?

And when she'd tend to his wounds, stashed away in her art studio which her father dared not enter, Nico would always listen to her as she spat out all her problems and disgusted thoughts of the finishing school she was forced to go to — the people, the lessons, not to mention the uniforms, which she gestured to her current clothing in a dismissive nature. That one always made him chuckle and said that Catholic uniforms made the person sexier to corrupt. She'd smirk, but laugh along too. He was just so easy to talk to, since Percy had now divided his time in between fighting monsters and being with Annabeth.

And Rachel couldn't help but just let herself study that face of his. It was more than her artistic urges. She wanted to touch that statuesque face. That dark, silky hair, velvet as the night sky falling into his eyes, those even darker eyes, tunnels to get completely lost in, no chance of light to save you. Those angles of his face, sharp and defined. And when he reached over for the gauze, hand almost purposely brushing hers, shivers tingling down her spine at his icy skin, all she did was curse her fucking luck.

c'mon baby, lemme take you on a night ride (Travis/Katie)

Of course Katie didn't find Travis Stoll attractive. Yeah, sure, he had a mop of chestnut curls that had hints of red glowing like coals in the sunlight, and his eyes were bright blue like the sky, accented with a mischievous glitter that told her to stay away but just entranced her more, and those long, nimble fingers that always plucked the petals out of her hair, rubbing her hair in between his fingers for a second before she swats him, and that smile, the stupid, lopsided, toothy, sensuous-lipped smile that had a little cute dimple in his cheek —

Ugh, please.

So when she returned for the summer at Camp Half-Blood, Silena just had to mention for the fifth time in a row for her to acquire a boyfriend. The girl wasn't like all those meddling nymphs she called her siblings, but come on. She'd rolled her eyes. "I so don't need a boyfriend," she huffed and nearly pouted as she leaned back against the Aphrodite Cabin door outside. She shrugged. "What I'd like is . . . a distraction."

And, as if on freaking cue, an engine rumbled and purred, wheels kicking up dust as it slid along the dirt path. It immediately halted at the porch of the Aphrodite cabin. The vehicle was glossy black and shiny silver, a real death trap. One lanky, jean-covered leg jerked the kickstand and with one gloved hand, whipped off the helmet, familiar brown curls bouncing back into cute ruffled-ness.

"Cool," Travis grinned. "I'll pick you up at seven."

"Excuse me?" Katie barely managed to splutter before he interrupted.

"Still owe me for that cleaning the stables thing last year. You promised me a favor, remember? So." Grin still plastered across his lips, he flashed her that infuriating wink, blue depths sparkling with mischief, before sliding the helmet back on and driving towards the vehicle shed. Katie's jaw was still on the floor. Silena looked like she was trying hard not to burst into laughter.

"So, guess you can bring Travis to that double date with Charlie and me, huh?"

"You can't be serious," Katie said, face flushed, more to herself than Silena.

Eh, she promised, hadn't she?

what I'd do to have you here, here, here (Luke/Thalia)

"You're a fucking idiot," was the first thing Thalia Grace spat out the moment she arrived in front of Luke Castellan's grave. Just because he was.

How dare he betray her? How dare he just abandon her? How dare he throw away everything they had fought for in the past? Now she only had if only's, because Zoe had been painstakingly right. She had loved Luke, perhaps more than she should have. And no, she hadn't become a Hunter of Artemis to run from Luke. That was a whole different matter.

He found her. She had found him. They'd found each other, two souls on the run from monsters, protected under the thin, mystifying bottle green veil of Mist. And by one of the many campfires they set up along their journey, she poured out everything about herself. Luke was the only one she trusted at that moment, with her past and her alcoholic mother and her guilt over the disappearance of her little brother.

"You know what I think?" he'd said afterwards.

"What?" she challenged.

"I don't think you're half as bad as me."

"Mm-hmm. You randomly pick up punk chicks off the road, huh?"

"Only the cute ones." He'd winked, and she should have punched him for calling her cute, but Thalia had laughed, the first real one in a long time.

They had found Annabeth, who completed them, made them the family they never had. They grew up together.

She'd sacrificed herself for him. And he took that sacrifice and twisted it in anger. He'd failed her.

Then he just had to be that fucking hero she knew he was inside and kill himself.

Now a million white snowflakes flurried past her, melting in the dark depths of her spiky hair, wind furiously whipping around her, tearing at her skin and clothes. Snow clustered around her boots, footprints imprinted behind her, nearly filled back up with snow. Her bow was slung over her back and her eyes were narrowed at the gravestone bearing Luke's fucking name.

"Gods, Luke," she muttered, bowing her head. "I just wish you were still here."

I'll always be here, Thal. He'd said that once. And look where he was.

Sometimes, she thought that he'd been right. The gods ruined everything. They could have had a life together, but they hadn't. If only . . .

"You'll always be my hero, Luke. Don't you forget that."

I'm wonderstruck, blushing all the way home (Charles/Silena)

"Would you like to go to the fireworks show with me tonight?"

There was everything to like about Charles Beckendorf. Not only was he a fine specimen of a man — all smooth, dark skin, bright chocolate brown eyes that saw the wonder and potential in everything, ripped muscles up the arms and shoulders, pearly white teeth that flashed out in lovely contrast to his skin — but he was also incredibly kind and sweet, not gruff and lonesome-seeking like some of the Hephaestus kids. His hands were large and reassuring, full of scars and callouses, but nonetheless felt like silk — Silena knew from when he helped her up after training.

Now he was wringing those hands in front of him and staring at her intently, almost afraid. She smiled.

"Yes, of course," she nodded brightly. If Katie were here, she'd say About time. Thank the gods, huh?

"Really?"

"Duh." Silena rolled her eyes good-naturedly. "But only if I get to call you Charlie."

"Never needed my permission," he shrugged. "See you there." He suddenly swooped in and pecked his full lips on her cheek and ran off to join his friends. Silena froze, fingers brushing where his lips had met her skin. He was also the only who could make her blush. Sure, there were several guys she'd been with, but none made her skin burn and heart soar like Charles Beckendorf.

And when he walked her back to her own cabin, their hands were still clasped together after they had — without even looking — involuntarily reached for each other's hands. She stared down at them with a small smile on her face and he brushed his thumb across her knuckles, earning a flash of heat across her cells.

"Thanks, Charlie," she'd murmured and finally — finally — he leaned down and kissed her square on the mouth and obviously she kissed him back, breath stolen and face flushed and with the colorful streamers of light dotting the sky, she could tell that the real fireworks weren't in the sky.

It was between her and Charlie's hearts.

drop everything now, meet me in the pouring rain (Grover/Juniper)

"Come on, Grover!" Juniper grabbed a firm hold of Grover's hand and, despite looking so petite and delicate, she pulled him outside with a strength to challenge a demigods. He barely had enough time to snatch up an umbrella and open it above their heads.

It was hot out, even this late at night, but it wasn't like they had be doing anything. The clouds overhead loomed above them, crashing thunder together so loud Grover almost thought Zeus was angry. Juniper twirled around, out of the shade of the umbrella and spread her arms out, tipping her head back and exhaling a soft, content sigh.

Juniper really, really loved rain, but Grover didn't really enjoy getting wet in general since he reeked like a wet dog when his fur git wet, but he was willing to sacrifice that all to see that beautiful smile upon Juniper's lips as the downpour rained down on her, eyes fluttering at the pattering of raindrops on her cheeks. She stepped closer to him now, so close that their knees brushed and he could count her coppery eyelashes. The rain slicked off her curls and made them look even glossier.

"Isn't it beautiful?" she whispered, staring back up at the sky once the rain faded to a gentle, steady fall. Grover swallowed. He wanted to say something back, but he was afraid it would sound stupid, but to Styx with it.

"Not as beautiful as you," he replied, raising a hand to cup around her cheek, brushing aside some stray strands and sending several drops to race down her cheek. She gazed up at him with those spring green eyes that stood out against her matching skin for some reason, swelling with a warmth that just rippled down his spine. And she grinned widely again, almost blushing even greener.

"Feels nice," she breathed, then tilted her head closer to his, feeling the cool aroma of her skin against his. "Kiss me."

Who was he to deny her, the one who brought the ray of sunshine to his life?

Don't own anything. Was it good or bad? Should I continue? Which pairings? Reviews are much appreciated. -N