Scratch - Tumblr Posts - Page 2
:D
Took a long time to complete my first run, so it's only right to celebrate it by doing an equally long piece of the companions š«¶
God I feel bad for coming back so much but I love your writings it keeps making me think of the scratching I love the way you write it...may I ask for more scratch I LOVEB it-
a/n: my beloved itchy/scratchy anon!! what else do you want me to write about scratching? i wasn't sure so i thought about strade's hairy back... hopefully, this satisfies that... itch of yours hehehehehe :3c
SCRATCHING HIS BACK
{ strade x gn! reader }
word count: 690
warnings/tags: mentions of alcohol and inebriation, detailed descriptions of dirt and dead skin, intimate back scratching :3
The evening unfolded lazily, an amalgam of shadows and silhouettes cast by the dim light filtering through the window. You were tucked into a corner of an old, musty couch, the fabric worn and rough beneath you. Beside you, Strade sprawled out, a picture of carefree inebriation. The scent of beer clung heavily to the air, mixing with the lingering odour of cigarette smoke that seemed permanently embedded in the room's fabric. His shirt was tossed carelessly aside, revealing his broad, hairy back to the dim room.
āHey,ā Stradeās voice was a gruff murmur, slightly slurred from the alcohol. āGot an itch right in the middle of my back. Mind giving it a scratch?ā
You looked at his back, a vast canvas of skin, hair, and subtle rolls of fat that moved with every breath he took. There was something deeply human, almost vulnerable about the request, and it spurred a warmth in you that offset the chill creeping through the cracked window.
With a nod, you shifted closer, your fingers tentatively touching down on the warm skin. The hairs were coarse under your touch, each strand tickling your fingertips as you searched for the spot he couldnāt reach. He hummed approvingly when your nails finally found the place, a small groan of relief escaping him as you began to scratch.
His skin was surprisingly soft, pliable under your fingers, the hairs parting easily as you dragged your nails over them. Beneath the initial layer of hair and warmth, you could feel the fine grit of dirt and the flaky texture of dead skin. It was almost mesmerizing, the way the debris collected under your nails, forming little scrolls of filth that were oddly satisfying to remove.
āYouāre a lifesaver,ā Strade mumbled, his voice heavy with contentment. āGenau da... yeah, harder.ā
Encouraged by his words, you increased the pressure, your fingers working deeper as they explored the landscape of his back. Each movement of your hand seemed to excavate more from beneath the surface, revealing the hidden details of his skin. His back was a map of experiences, marked by scars and speckled with moles, each a story shadowed by the blemishes he inflicted on others.
Strade shifted, leaning back into your touch like a large, satisfied cat. The room was quiet, save for the low buzz of a streetlight outside and the distant sound of a siren. There was an intimate humanity in these movements, in the soft yielding of his body to your fingers.
Your nails traced down to the lower part of his back, where the skin grew softer and the hair sparser. Here, the sensation changed, the resistance of his skin lessening, allowing your nails to glide smoothly. The creases under touch were like the gentle undulations of a calm sea; each wave eliciting a soft sigh under your exploratory scratch.
Stradeās breathing deepened, a sign of his drifting focus, caught between the sensations you provided and the edge of sleep. āAh, don't stopā he whispered, almost pleadingly.
Your scratching, while superficial, felt almost cathartic, as if each small flake of skin and dirt removed could lighten his burdens. Slowly, you continued your methodical exploration, your fingers now familiar with the contours of his back. Each pass of your nails brought more of the hidden grime to the surface, leaving a trail of cleaner, fresher skin beneath. The rhythm of scratch and relief painted a moment of pure tranquillity, a rare pause in the chaotic symphony of his daily existence.
As the night wore on, Stradeās body relaxed completely, succumbing to the dual lull of your touch and the alcoholās embrace. His last conscious murmur was a soft grunt of thanks, fading into the steady, deep breaths of sleep.
You paused, looking at the quiet figure beside you, the steady rise and fall of his back a silent testament to the peace youād brought. The night continued around you, the world moving on, but in this small, dimly lit room, you had found a profound connection in the simple act of caring, of cleaningā a connection as real and gritty as the dirt under your nails.
"Like it here. Warm fire, Scratch reminds me of big brother." š¦š¶
š¤£š¤£š¤£š¤£
When the heroes are not in the camp
YES!!! I named mine Cubby š„¹
They never give you an option to name the cub but in my heart this is Absolute-ly (haha) canon.
Scratch blep?! Hellllll yeah!!!
Relax šš¶
Cranberry Muffins - Quick Bread Due to the inclusion of orange zest and orange juice, this cranberry muffin recipe yields a dozen delicious muffins with a light citrus flavor.
ERM
WHAT THE HUH
1K ON SCRATCH AAAAH š„š„š„
(to everyone on here thatās followed me on scratch: ilyyyy š«¶š«¶)
ik this isnāt even for this site lmao but uhhh Iām very happy so Iām posting about it here :))
A Horror Story
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Guess what game Iām playing; 13 years, baby, letās gooooo
Happy Halloween
from the Dark Place š
Weāre waiting for the chirp chirp chirpā¦ of an eaglet being born