scomiche one-shots

Reminder

Dear my Mitchie,

Hey. It's Scott. You're best friend.

I'm writing this while your sleeping in the bed next to mine in the hotel room. I'm trying to be quiet.

I want you to read this whenever you feel like your ugly, when you feel worthless and fat. When you feel like nobody cares about you.

Which is everyday for you.

I hate it so much like, SO MUCH, when your getting ready in the mirror and every time you turn around and tell me that stupid lie, "Babe, I'm so ugly." or, "I look fat in this." or something ridiculous like that.

And it's really funny to me. It's really funny. I don't get why you get mad at me when I laugh after you say things like that.

ARE YOU KIDDING ME MITCHELL. LOOK IN THE FUCKING MIRROR.

You are the most beautiful person on this planet. And I mean that in every way possible.

How many FRICKING times do I have to tell you that?!

I'm so mad at you. You better not be fucking surprised when you don't see me tomorrow.

I'm not leaving, I just want you to be alone when you read this.

I'm going to tell you all the things about you that make you beautiful.

Your hair: It's so soft. And you always make your hair look good. Like, always. And here's me, after you took .5 seconds to make your hair look snatched, I'm still trying to style it.

Your eyebrows: no words. Like legit Mitch, Beyoncé would be jealous of your eyebrows.

Seriously.

Your eyes: Beautiful. The most beautiful deep brown eyes. And your eyes have like, a loving look to them. Everytime I look into your eyes, I feel like I'm loved.

Your lips: HAVE YOU SEEN EVERY SINGLE PENTAHOLIC FANPAGE ON INSTAGRAM?! Everyone loves your lips Mitch, especially me. They're so pink and plump and, kissable. And your smile, the most cutest thing in the world.

Your face in general: I'm not letting you wear makeup. Only if it's a video shoot or TV shoot. Mabye a gig. That's it. I want your face. YOU ACTUALLY HAVE EYEBROWS MITCH.

Your body: Mitch. Really. Like, how could you SERIOUSLY think that you look fat in something. You are so skinny. Models would be jealous. Everyone in the fandom and the band wants your body, Mitch. Me in general :/ I wish I could have a six pack without going to the gym.

Your legs: GOALS. LEGIT GOALS. Don't even think they need to be longer. I like you short anyways, easier to hug. :)

Do you get it now Mitch? Do you realise how beautiful you are to me, to the band, to EVERYONE?!

And I probably forgot a lot, there's just to much to remember.

So Mitch, after you read this, I want you to run down to the parking lot. Jake will drive you to the venue. I'll be there waiting in the dressing room. And I want you to tell me how amazing you look. And I want you to brag, just brag all day. I will not be annoyed in the slightest.

I fucking love you Mitch Grassi.

You're beautiful.

Love, Scott Hoying <3

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"Love, Scott Hoying." I read out loud in my hotel room sobbing with happiness.

I put the, now wet from tears, letter on his bed and looked in the mirror.

I smiled at myself.

"He's right. I'm fucking gorgeous." I said to myself.

I packed up all my stuff for the show today and sprinted downstairs to the New Jersey's hotel parking lot.

I saw Jake's car and threw the passenger door open and went inside the car.

"You look snatched." Jake said smiling at me.

"I know now." I said shutting the door.

Jake sped off down the highway blasting music.

I fucking love Scott. So much.

He pulled in and I ran as fast as my, beautiful, legs could run.

Everyone smiled at me as I ran down the hallway to the dressing room.

I threw the door open and saw Scott standing there, his adorable smile plastered on his face.

"Cmon. Brag." Scott said quietly.

"Well, this shirt on me looks fucking flawless tbh and these pants look amazing on me and my hair is snatched." I said running into his arms and squeezing the life out of him.

"Are you wearing makeup?" Scott asked nervously.

"Not a single drop of foundation on my face." I proudly said in his chest.

He squealed a little and I laughed.

We let go and I realised something that he said in the letter.

"Scott. You said that my lips were kissable." I said smiling.

Scott's face fell and became bright red.

"W-Well like, to like, o-other people." He stuttered, scratching the back of his neck.

And he says he doesn't blush. Ya right.

"Then why don't you find out yourself if their kissable." I said walking closer to him.

"Wait, Mitch. You seriously want me t-"

"Scott. Kiss me." I interrupted him.

He smiled and stepped closer. He put his hands on my face and he brought my lips against his. Our lips felt like they were soulmates together. Our lips moved slow and gentle together. Scott pulled away slowly and smirked.

"Yep. They are." Scott said.

"See." I said smiling.

I'm writing a letter next.