scömìche
5 stories
hush || scömìche (boyxboy) by graybean
graybean
  • WpView
    Reads 28,449
  • WpVote
    Votes 1,889
  • WpPart
    Parts 24
Mitch Grassi stopped speaking at age 14. He and his mother moved to a new city and Mitch somehow managed to make three friends. Now 17 years old, Mitch relearns speech. Unfortunately, demons from his past resurface and attempt to drag him down into the hell he swore he'd never go back to. { will contain: smut, bullying, suicide, homophobia, panic attacks, and more. tread carefully. }
You Ruined Me (Scomiche) by feminenemy22
feminenemy22
  • WpView
    Reads 435,543
  • WpVote
    Votes 13,391
  • WpPart
    Parts 53
AU. Scott’s life is going just as he planned it. He has the perfect roommate, the perfect girlfriend and, as of today, the perfect new job doing what he loves. As he begins this new profession, will his new colleague throw a wrench into his perfectly placed life?
Y O U T H (scomiche) by the-pentatonix
the-pentatonix
  • WpView
    Reads 46,548
  • WpVote
    Votes 2,523
  • WpPart
    Parts 21
"Youth is the fantasy of finding someone that makes you feel like half a person. It's all about the joy and naivety and being lost. It's about dropping everything and running away, making mistakes, loving too hard, and how that's okay. Even when it's not." //based on the Troye Sivan song//
Scent of Love (Scomiche fanfiction) by kelsung
kelsung
  • WpView
    Reads 73,716
  • WpVote
    Votes 3,513
  • WpPart
    Parts 26
Mitch has a superior olfactory sense and a good memory for scents. There is however one scent that he simultaneously craves and wants to forget, the scent of a boy he used to love. Prompted by Mitch's tweet: "I know a fragrance is gonna work 4 me when it smells like a boy I was/would be in love with."
The Funambulist by sconemiche
sconemiche
  • WpView
    Reads 19,082
  • WpVote
    Votes 1,228
  • WpPart
    Parts 9
{fu·nam·bu·list: a tightrope walker/rope-dancer} Scott Hoying had been sitting in row 4, seat number 23, when he had been sure that his heart stopped beating. With his fingernails burrowed into his dark jeans and his lip between his teeth, he could do nothing but stare upwards - 50 feet above him- as the figure pranced along the high wire. The performer's body swayed to the melody around him, a stunning smile lighting up his entire face as he moved; his arms were thrown out to the sides, toes pointed, as he jumped along the tightrope. The massive tent expelled a blinding white light in the performer's direction, casting an ethereal glow upon his black-clad figure. On cue, the performer then quickly leaped forward, smile still intact, executing three of the most perfect front flips Scott had ever seen in his life. He thought the boy looked miraculous up there, and that was definitely an understatement. Though he was around same age as Scott himself, his way of performing showed experience and talent far beyond his years; the performer quite literally personified the music. It's sure that Scott was definitely the last person to be able to judge circus performers, as it wasn't exactly his area of expertise, but he knew passion when he saw it. Scott was certain that if he even attempted something of that calibre, he would probably start crying, if he didn't break his nose first.