#@ light in the pic>

[blu-ish]

Got a Polaroid camera for my birthday and instantly thought of these losers.

[lone-nyctophile]

Poetry is what helps me remember that even in my fragments, I am whole.

- Jennifer Huang

[crimsolyn]

[photographss-world]

"Bu karlı kış gününde.

Güngörmüş dağlara karşı

Sımsıcak öpüşürdük sarılıp birbirimize.

Sevgilim, yanımda olsaydın keşke!"

Metin Altıok...

[4mtns]

[secretly-a-trekkie]

on the run

[depresed-duck]

summer camp !!

[doesnotloveyou]

never forget the stack of tires shaped like the alice in wonderland caterpillar that exists at a truck stop in Nebraska

[southern--downpour]

sometimes i still feel the bruise

[abyssalzones]

something something "wearing a microfiber cloth in my back pocket to let the best buy employees know I'm cruising" idr how the post goes

[galina]

Autumn golden hour in Regent's Park 🍁🍂🥮

[glitch-the-ghost]

something something “the eyes never lie” something something

[lone-nyctophile]

Instead of new branches, I might grow deeper roots.

-David Kishik

[hungharrington]

thinking about getting fingered by Steve in the backseat of his car and being crowded against the door and sitting at an awkward angle but not moving because the thought of his fingers losing that spot is a million times worse than the sore neck… just UGHHH 😩

a hungharrington fic? in 2025? i'm just as surprised as you <3 1.3k, fem!reader, what the prompt says hehe MDNI this entire blog is 18+

The numbers on the dashboard blink in the night, reflecting the late night hour.

From the outside, Steve's car looks unassuming, parked in between the trees out by Skull Rock.

You're given away only by the faint fogging of the windows, though you have little doubt of how steamy they'll be soon enough. With the hot heat of Steve's mouth against the skin of your neck and the surety of his fingers, curling closer between your thighs, it's not an if, it's a when.

"God, I missed you s'much," He murmurs heavily. His words get smothered beneath his own fervent kisses, your skin tingling beneath the attention. He can't bring himself to break away from you for more than a moment.

Steve had headed out of Hawkins for the better part of a week, dragged by his parents who wouldn't take no for an answer. He'd returned just tonight, maroon car glinting the last of the evening sun up at your window.

You'd slipped down and taken the passenger seat always reserved for you.

And then, somewhere between there and now, Steve had cajoled you into the backseat, his hazel eyes bright with an adoring lust as he nipped at your neck.

"Missed you too," You gasp breathily.

Tilting back, your head gently hits the glass of the car window behind you. Your hair wipes some of the fog off and Steve nibbles a soft lovebite under your ear, soothing it with his tongue. His hands paw hungrily at your waist and you grapple to find purchase on his shoulders.

"Not as much as me, baby," Steve pants.

He finally pulls himself back from his affectionate attack on your neck, eyes darker, face flushed. His hand on your waist slides forward, following the line of your hips forward, down, til he's cupping your cunt. You think you get a little lightheaded from the way your blood rushes south, gloriously hot at the touch.

He kisses you, his groan seeping into your mouth. It fills your head, heavy and sticky with lewd thoughts.

"Thought of you every," He rubs you through the denim softly. "Damn," Another rub, more pressure this time. "Day."

You keen, hips canting forward, searching for more of that delicious friction. Steve gives you what you want; he always does. You reward him, your hands on his shoulders shifting. You twine your fingers in the hair at the nape of his neck, just how he likes it.

The inside of the car feels much, much warmer now. The windows can't be seen through anymore and it seems to cast the red light of the dashboard clock much further. Steve's heavy breath fanning across your face is the loudest thing in the car.

You should've worn a skirt, you think— right as Steve asks, "Can I?" his hand now up, thumbing at the button of your jeans.

His check-in douses the ember within you with gasoline, burning hotter, brighter, in an instant. You know what he's asking for, know exactly how well Steve knows how to use his fingers. The thought of them buried in you, crooked just right, suddenly has you aching for it.

Nodding, you murmur out your yes' as you shuffle about, working to kick off your shoes quickly. Steve pulls back to not be in the way, jumping back in time to help you peel the denim off from your legs.

You manage to get your fingertips beneath the elastic of your panties before you're interrupted.

"Keep them on," Steve says, knocking your hand aside. He surges back in, his fervour undulled, and his large hands find your hips, tugging forward.

You end up slightly perched in his lap, slightly pressed into the back corner against the window and the seat. It's an awkward position but when the warmth of Steve's fingers pet your cunt again, cotton stickier now, you can forgive it. You sling your arms around his neck to get closer.

"That's it," Steve murmurs lowly. He ducks his head to reignite every lovebite left on your neck as his fingers get bolder, pressing firmer. Your breath gets thinner, chest heaving more and more.

"God, my girl," He breathes, fingers spreading the wetness up and over your clit tantalizingly. You mewl at his too-soft motions, needing more.

"Steve," You urge.

He doesn't make you wait. Pinching the edge, he pulls your panties to the side and then dips his fingers into the well of slick wet waiting eagerly for him.

You make matching groans; Steve moaning at heat of your inviting cunt, wrapped around him, and you sighing at the way his long digit sinks into you, slow and so sweet.

"Steve," You say his name again, this time a honey, lusty thing.

Steve breaks his kiss to moan against your neck, feeding on the obvious salacious eagerness in you. His finger draws back and then he sinks it back in, beginning slowly to fuck it in and out.

"Missed you," He whispers. A second finger prods at your entrance and eases in gently, sending a streak of something white hot down your spine. Your arms around his neck tighten.

"Missed this," He continues, still a whisper. He's picking up the pace now, having found a lazy rhythm, fingers sliding in and out of your cunt so perfectly that it makes your clit twitch, envious and missing out.

You whine into the crook of his neck. "Me too."

Then, just as you think the angle of your back might be just a tad too uncomfortable, Steve curls his fingers.

A gaspy noise escapes your throat. Desire pulses wildly and you can feel the way you flutter around his fingers. Steve's other hand on your waist tightens, gripping you tightly.

"Fuuuck," He groans. "I missed that too."

Then he does it again, fingers crooked to hit that perfect spot that makes you feel like you might cry if he rubbed it too much. Your noises sound much louder now, jagged and pitching up.

"You're such a tease, honey," Steve accuses, his motions not slowing. "Keeping me from this. Keeping all your cute noises to yourself."

And, as if he'll know what it'll do, he stretches his hand, veins bulging in his forearm, and plants his thumb on your clit. You jolt against the new stimulation, another cute gaspy noise, and Steve moans against your neck.

His hand keeps moving, fingers still plunging into your sopping cunt, thumb rubbing tight, small circles on your clit. You cling to him, hips rolling to meet his strokes, the heat in you building, suddenly desperately fast. Your breathing comes out heavy and if it's not a moan, it's his name that slips from between your lips.

"Feelin' good? M' making my girl feel good?" He says raspily. "You deserve it, being left alone. So mean of me."

Something fiery swells within you and you inhale sharply, squeaking out Steve's name in warning. His hand, which must be cramping much like your poor back, still rocks into you, unfaltering.

"C'mon, let me have it. Please," He pleads. "Let me see you cum f'me, honey."

The sincere thread in his voice, the genuine plead, is what unravels your last ties. You tremble, lusty and quivering sounds that you bury away in his neck, as you ride his fingers through a dazzlingly hot high. It drags on, nerves glittering with a fresh coat of pleasure that have you whining Steve's name pitifully.

When your breath starts to settle, Steve eases his fingers out, already beginning to pepper little kisses along the side of your head.

"That was big, huh?" He says. It's mostly care in his voice but there, in the back, is a smidgen of smugness.

"Shhhh," You shush him, still gathering yourself, eyes closed. You body gives a volatile twitch when Steve politely moves your panties back to their original position. "I'm deciding if that was worth fucking up my back a little bit for."

Steve makes a wounded noise, realising that he'd had you crowded up in an uncomfortable position the whole time. He's a worrier. That's enough to make you lift your head off his shoulder, eyes lidded low.

"Mmm, decided." You hum, the pleased smile of post-bliss on your face. Steve softens at the sight of it, at your easy happiness. "Worth it."

[photographss-world]

“ Ama üzüntü demek ;gece gündüz, uykuda olsun, uyanık olsun, vücuduna saplanmış bir oku taşımak demek. Çekilir şey değil bu.”

Franz Kafka....

[capesch-arts]

Finally got energy to draw again. Anyways pretty Jarthur art!!!