Not gonna lie... I’ve read ALL the Explicit and Mature fanfictions for SnowBaz, and literally bookmarked EVERY fanfiction that Baz is a bottom. I have no regrets 😂
Baz is ready to shift their relationship from snogging to shagging. He has a whole plan figured, but you know what they say about best laid plans.
Heatwave by Fletcher_is_a_fangirl
Set a few months after the end of Carry On. Baz is sneakily working Simon's hormones up - but just because Simon doesn't go off magically anymore doesn't mean he won't crack under pressure...
Hello Mr. Pitch by SeasonsofLauren
Baz is a little stressed out from all of the idiots at work, so Simon helps him unwind a little
Simon Snow and the Drunken Engagement by TeddyBearDoctors
we were both drunk when you proposed to me and i accidentally posted about it across social media so now we’re hungover and trying to figure out this mess bc we’re not even dating AU
Simon and Baz wake up to realize everyone thinks they got engaged, but they aren't even friends really. Of course a situation like this can only lead to Simon fucking Baz against a wall, right?
Something Better Than Fighting by CiphersMarauders
Simon Snow didn't even want to attend college, let alone be roomed with the guy he hated more than anyone else- or so he thought.
The Monster Under the Bed by SHARKMARTINI
There is a box under Baz's bed.
Together We'll Carry On by BazPitchisgracefulandruthless
Penny and Simon share a flat. Baz, Penelope, and Simon are starting their freshman year of college in London together- or, as it's becoming clear, not together. New friends, sexual readiness, the disapproval of Baz's parents, and several other challenges line up to separate the couple, but Baz and Simon find ways to overcome them.
This is a combination of two anon requests. (One wanted them to share a cigarette, and one wanted smut at the Leaver’s Ball.) 2.3k words.
Warnings: Smut, arguments, smut, angst, smut, smoking a cigarette, smut, swearing, did I mention smut?
“You smoke?”
It’s the first thing Snow has said to me all night. He’s been inside of the Leaver’s Ball all night, chatting up every teacher and student alike, and I couldn’t stand it. It’s like the flame once again, though I’ve been able to touch it multiple times now. However, having something that you know you can touch repeatedly whisked away from you multiple times is not something you want to see. So, in this case, I smoke to have that flame back. Perhaps literally.
“Only when I care to play with fire,” I respond coolly. I place the cigarette back in between my lips and take a drag, feeling the familiar burning of the smoke slipping down my throat and into my lungs. Snow laughs a little beside me, and he walks down the front steps of the hall to walk down and stand properly beside me. I look over at him and take the cigarette out of my mouth and blow the smoke out. “So, why are you not in there, schmoozing with all of your admirable followers?”
Simon’s brows furrow, and he looks over at me against the wall. “I wouldn’t consider any of them my friends, let alone my ‘admirable followers’,” he mumbles, kicking the ground with his shoes. He takes the cigarette out of my hands and takes a drag himself, coughing and spluttering from the smoke. His eyes water, and he looks over at me again. “Christ, how do you find this relaxing?”
I bite my lip as he hands the cig back, and I smile coolly. “I don’t. It’s quite a bad habit, actually, though it’s not like I’m smoking two packs a day or anything. It’s just something I shouldn’t do.”
“Obviously,” Simon comments, and I furrow my eyebrows over at him. “Go into the Normal world for a change, Baz. There’s plenty of research on these little cancer sticks.” He punctuates his sentence by plucking the cig out of my hand and dropping it before stomping it out under his foot.
“You haven’t answered my question,” I point out, staring over at him and feeling the cool brick lowering the temperature of my burning cheeks.
Simon takes in a deep breath through his nose, and he replies, “I wasn’t having any fun. Then I went to find you, and I couldn’t, so I came out here to look.” He turns towards me, and the moonlight casts his shadow across the wall. “Is that explanation enough for you?”
I huff out an indignant breath and say, “The Simon Snow would talk to me in front of actual people?” Simon shakes his head and looks back the way he was looking before.
“You’re an irritating asshole,” he spits out, clenching his fists against his sides and looking back at me. “I went to find you to talk to you because maybe I find you interesting, and maybe I enjoy your company, and maybe I’d like whatever is between us to be in the light of day for once, but you can’t even get it through your mind that I don’t have an ulterior motive, can you? I’m trusting you! Why can’t you do the same for me?”
I stiffen and step away from the wall. “You’re never going to understand anything, are you? It’s not easy being a Pitch, let alone being gay, let alone liking the only person your family wants you to kill! This isn’t easy,” I yell, gesturing between him and me before pointing at where the Leaver’s Ball is being held on campus. “And in there, when all I see is you practically flirting with everyone you come across in there, it isn’t exactly easy to stay there! And it isn’t exactly easy to know that you, at the end of the day, are still going to like me, or that you’re still going to want me when the rest of the world is bowing to you! Jesus!”
Walking away from him is always easier than walking towards him. It’s incredibly easier than dealing with him. However, it’s not easier than giving into him. It’s not easier than putting my trust in him. It’s not easier than just being with him. Nothing is easier than that.
An arm on my wrist turns me around and stops me in my tracks, and I turn only to come face-to-face with Simon. “What?” I snap.
Simon looks angry, too. His eyebrows are drawn into a frown, and his eyes are flaming, but he has more composure than me. “You’re an absolute git,” he starts, his voice much calmer than his expression, “and you annoy me a lot, and you think I don’t know when you eat salt and vinegar crisps during the night.” He gets a confused smile on his face, and continues. “I don’t understand what we are, but I want you to know that whatever strange thing this is, there’s not anyone else that makes me feel the same.”
There’s a split second where I feel pressured to speak, but Simon makes it fade as he leans in and kisses me softly. Sometimes when he kisses me like this, I wonder if this is what a kiss from anyone would feel like. Because a kiss like this doesn’t make me feel like I’m doing something wrong, and it doesn’t make me feel like I need to move, because Simon’s the one tilting his chin and pushing me back, and I’m the one going pliant in his hands.
My back hits a wall, and I open my eyes and break away from the kiss to see we’re at Mummer’s. No one is here, and our room is just up the stairs, but my legs feel like jelly, and I don’t trust myself to move. As I look up at the sky, Simon takes the opportunity to press open-mouthed kisses to my neck, slowly moving down my neck to my collarbone, unbuttoning the top few buttons of my dress shirt and sucking burning bruises onto my collarbone.
“Simon,” I whisper out. I thought it was going to be a shout, but it comes out like that. “Simon,” I say again, a little more insistent. I press my palms to his chest, and he leans back.
“What?” he asks quietly. “What is it?” He looks genuinely worried, and I laugh.
“Nothing’s wrong,” I reply breathlessly, running the flat of my palms down his suit jacket in hopes that it’ll soothe my nerves. “It’s just that I believe private affairs like this shouldn’t happen where anyone could come across us. So, I suggest we make our way to the room.” He shakes his head with a laugh and moves towards me to press another kiss to my cheek.
The way up to the room is a lot of almost tumbling down the stairs and stumbling to get the door open, but once it’s locked behind us, Simon practically jumps onto me, unbuttoning the buttons of my dress shirt quickly before pushing the shirt along with my suit jacket down to the floor. My hands shake as I try to do the same, but Simon takes my shaking hands in his and presses soft kisses to my knuckles.
“Don’t be nervous,” he whispers, unbuttoning his own shirt as my hands rest on his waist. “It’s nothing we’ve never done before. Once he’s down the tight tank top he wore under his dress shirt, and brings his hand to the back of my neck and pulls me flush against him, kissing me deeply and longer than before. His tongue slips into my mouth as his hands run over my arms and neck and practically any skin he can touch.
He pulls back from the kiss and yanks my tank top untucked from my pants and over my head before doing the same to himself. He then gently runs his hand over my chest and stomach before beginning to press a constellation of kisses across my shoulders and chest. He gently pushes me down onto my bed before climbing on himself. He’s down by my feet laughing as he takes off my shoes and socks and doing the same to himself. He scoots back up to me and smiles.
“Is this alright?” he asks, his hands going to his own belt.
I nod before saying, “Yeah,” breathlessly, my own hands moving to my own and trying to make quick work of the belt. It gets stuck under me, and I laugh awkwardly and blush before I tug the belt out and throw it onto the ground. I unzip my pants and yank them down as far as I can before I have to revert to kicking them off. Simon’s just as naked as I am when I’m done.
“Did you…” Simon trails off, indicating my boxers.
“Did I prep?” I ask for him. He nods, a dark red blush creeping onto his cheeks, and I take them in my hands before kissing him, still smiling when I pull back. “Yeah.”
“Okay,” Simon breaths out, laughing afterwards. I nod and laugh with him, and he kisses me again, his tongue making its way into my mouth and his hands travelling down my chest, running over my nipples and squeezing them. I moan into the kiss, and Simon breaks away. “Christ, that’s a beautiful sound,” he mumbles, squeezing them again as he continues to kiss me. His hands eventually leave my chest and run down to my boxers, gripping my hard dick through the thin material. “This alright?” he asks. I nod again, and he does as well before moving down to my neck and sucking more hickeys.
His hands leave my body for a second, and I look down to see him removing his boxers. He lifts himself away from my body completely and leans over towards the drawer, fishing out a condom and some lube. He sets them down on the bed before hooking his fingers under the band of my boxers and looking up at me in a silent question. I nod again, and he lifts my boxers up and off of my body. My dick finally springs free, and I hear the popping of a cap and see Simon spreading lube onto his hand before bringing his hand down to my dick and beginning to stroke.
“Oh, Jesus,” I groan, throwing my head back against the pillow as Simon slowly strokes his hand over my tip and back down slowly to the base. “God, yes, Simon.”
His hand leaves me, and I hear the cap again, only this time when his hand returns, it’s at my entrance, and Simon looks up at me. He rubs his fingers lightly against my entrance, sucking bruises onto my thighs and hipbones. As his first finger enters me, he also wraps his lips slowly around my tip, and I cry out. His finger moves slowly back and forth inside of me, quickly adding a second and third as he sucks down to the base of my dick.
“Simon, just,” I whine out, gripping onto the pillow and my hair, “please, please, I’m ready. I want it!”
Simon slowly removes his fingers from me and his mouth from my dick, and I whine when I feel nothing. Simon places quick kisses on my cheeks as he rolls on the condom and lubes up, aligning himself with my entrance and making eye-contact with me. “Please,” I whine out again.
Simon slowly presses into me, having to thrust just a bit to get all of him in. He bites his lip and groans silently, and when he bottoms out, he looks at me through hooded lashes. He hooks his arms under my legs and leans forward, his face a few inches up from mine. Simon begins to thrust slowly, letting out little gasps of breath as he enters me again. I reach my arms up from where it is resting against the pillow, and I make him rest his forehead against me. Simon begins to go deeper, faster, and I let my hand drop from his hair to stroke myself. The pleasure is burning against my insides, going millions of miles an hour down my nerves, and it makes me see white.
Simon’s breathing begins to get shorter and shallower, and before I know it, he’s whimpering, “I can’t, Baz. I’m gonna…” I squeeze down on his cock, and he groans loudly as his thrusts get progressively slower, and just as he’s about to stop, he presses against a spot inside of me that makes me scream out in pleasure, and I release all over my hand. My thighs shake as I come down from my high, and Simon slowly pulls out of me and gets off the bed gently.
He walks to the bathroom, and when he comes back, he’s got a warm washcloth in his hands. He walks back to me and wipes my stomach before tossing the washcloth into the dirty clothes hamper. Simon rests his head against my chest and breathes in deeply, and I feel that pressure to say something again.
“You’re staying in London, right?” he asks before I can say anything. I look down at his tuft of hair on my chest, and he looks up at me. “Penny and I are thinking of getting a place together, but if you were staying, and you wanted to…”
I smile down at him and whisper, “We’ve lived with each other for eight years now. Aren’t you tired of me?” Simon snorts and swats my chest lightly. “Do you mean that?”
“Yeah,” Simon mutters sincerely, running his hand up to my neck. “When you said earlier that it was hard being a Pitch, I just thought that if you moved in with me, you wouldn’t be looked at as a Pitch in my eyes. We could just do stuff as Simon and Baz.”
I bite my bottom lip and look up at the ceiling, running my hand through his hair subconsciously. That sounds wonderful,” I finally respond, and Simon leaps up at me to kiss me again.
