basilton pitch

After Hours by arituzz

It’s like an unspoken routine – Baz busies himself to be the last one in the locker room after the football matches and Snow comes in to make him all sweaty again.

From Here by rosebudboys

“Simon,” I sit back. His Adam’s apple dances as he swallows. “Are you sure you’re ready?” He nods and looks away, staring at the wall.

Heartstrings & Symphonies by Miss_Cosmonaut

It’s unhealthy, locking ourselves up in my apartment the second I’m off work, trying desperately to get sick of each other. No breaks, no breathers, just smothering and holding each other so tight it hurts. I know I’m speeding through something I should be taking my time with, being reckless with something I should handle with care. But this is what I wanted. I’m in over my head, taking too much, giving too much. Loving in unreasonable amounts. It’s like drinking on an empty stomach, this fast-paced, disquieting thing.

Of Course by standalone

He doesn’t say it back right away. He should. He really should. He can hear Agatha in his head, and Ollie, and Bunce, and Delphinia, and basically everyone he cares about (and trusts to have his best interests at heart, which is why Ari doesn’t make the list), gently admonishing or berating or teasing him.

never let me go by eroticgropefest

Simon and Baz’s first time.

Something i’d gladly eat by arituzz

But the real eroticism of Simon Snow is, like the devil himself, in the details – the moles on his right cheek hiding in a bath of red skin, blue eyes heavy with lust, bronze curls tangled between Baz’s dark fingers, lips parted in invitation. Which Baz eagerly accepts. Fucking delicious.  

Temporary Fix by magicathstewart

Based on the prompt: Enemies with benefits au in which snowbaz kiss and more and such but still think they hate each other and fight all the time Will you do it?“

This is Reality by ebbthegoatgirl

Simon Snow was pressing me into the mattress and I thought to myself, This is the closest I’ll get to heaven.

undisclosed desires by eroticgropefest

simon follows baz into the woods and finds more than he bargained for

You Can’t Run by anajoyy

“He looked at the boy with the knife to his throat, the boy whose black eyelashes feathered down against his cheekbones as he glanced away from Kit, and he felt something like a shock of recognition pass through him. He thought, How beautiful.”

“Ty raised his head. Kit got a quick flash of the color of his eyes: true gray, that gray that was almost silver.”

“Ty smiled. It was a genuine, light-up-your-face-type smile, and it made Kit remember the first time he’d met Ty. Ty hadn’t been sitting on him then, but he had been holding a dagger to Kit’s throat. Kit had looked at him and forgotten the knife and thought, Beautiful.”

“Ty laughed. The salt air had tangled his arrow-straight black hair, and his eyes glowed like the moonlight on the water. Kit just stared, unable to think of anything else clever to say, as Ty gently placed the starfish back in its tide pool.”

“Ty climbed up onto the porch beside Kit and sat down. He smelled faintly of desert, sand and sage. Kit thought of the way he’d liked the sound of Ty’s voice: It was rare to hear someone get that kind of sincere pleasure out of simply sharing information.”

“Ty shook his head again. His black hair was sticking to his forehead. Kit frowned. He wanted to grab Ty and drag him out of the Market to somewhere it would be calm and quiet. He remembered Ty saying that he hated crowds, that the sheer noise and confusion was “like broken glass in my head.”

“Ty was leaning forward, his arms clasping his body tightly. Kit wanted to reach out, wanted to put his hands on Ty, wanted to tell him it would be all right, communicate it in a way that startled him.”

“He looked anxious, the shadows under his eyes more pronounced. Kit wanted to go across the table and put his arms around Ty the way he had the night before, on the roof. He felt intensely protective of the other boy, in a way that was strange and unnerving. He’d cared about people before, mostly his father, but he’d never wanted to protect them. He wanted to kill anyone who would try to hurt Ty. It was a very peculiar feeling.”

“Ty smiled, and despite everything that was happening, it made Kit want to smile, too.”

“He knew he ought to feel exhausted, but there was something about Ty’s energy, the brightness and concentration of his focus, that worked on Kit like caffeine. It woke him up inside with a sense of promise, as if the moments in front of him suddenly held endless possibilities.”

Me: