#drive movie | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

drivinmeinsane · 9 months

Text

I Do Nothing but Think of You

※ DRIVER (SOLO) ※

{ masterlist} ※ { ao3 }

※ Summary: He can't eat. He can't sleep. He's obsessed and restless. What else is there to do but go for a drive?

※ Rating: 18+ for explicit mature content

※ Content/Tags: Glove kink, Mentions of stalking, Semi-public masturbation, Troubling behaviors, Unhealthy obsession, Not necessarily a reader insert

※ Word count: 2,200

※ Status: Oneshot/Complete

※ Author's note: n/a

The florescent lights of the diner do nothing to ease Driver's agitation. Neither does the partially eaten slice of pie he is pushing around on his plate. Something is rustling around uncomfortably underneath his skin and he can't seem to shake it. He sits on the stool at the counter for another moment before fishing a couple of bills out of his wallet and tossing them on the counter. He stands. He is done here. Crappy pie and loudly humming lights aren't going to cure his bout of restlessness.

He shoves open the door harder than he should. The bells jangle loudly and slam into the glass as he exits. He draws his gloves out of his back pocket and pulls them on. The leather creaks faintly in protest while he works his hands into the confines of the material. The gloves have long since molded to the shape of his hands, but they fit so snugly that he has to gently coax his fingers inside. He sighs softly as he clicks the snaps closed, one and then the other. The metal feels cold against the back of his wrists.

He walks for a moment in the cool air, his hands tucked into the pockets of his bomber jacket. The city around him is still awake despite the late hour. He supposes that it's one thing they have in common. Neither of them ever seems to sleep. He cuts through throngs of people on the sidewalk. Their proximity feels like static. They instinctively clear out of his way. A shark among a school of fish.

Finally, he is at his Chevy. He had left it parked streetside. Secluded enough for the illusion of privacy but close enough to be easily within brisk walking distance. He drags his keys from his front pocket, something about the sensation sets his teeth on edge. He unlocks the vehicle and opens the door. He settles himself into his seat with a familiarity that should be comforting but it isn't. With the door closed and the ignition humming, he attempts to go limp and release some of the building tension. No luck. Apparently, he is doomed to spend the night sleepless and tense. His girl is at work, he won't be able to see her tonight. He turns the radio on. He wants to feel close to some part of her and so he finds a channel he's heard her listen to frequently. He keeps the volume low.

Squinting into the hazy lights of the night, he pulls away from the curb. With no job lined up to worry about, his girl to see, or goal in mind, he just... drives.

Lights pass, scenery blends together into a neon lit dream, and yet, Driver is still unsatisfied. He's burning up with an itch he can't seem to scratch with any of his usual methods. He watches his hands clench on the Malibu's steering wheel. The tendons in the back of his hands stand out in sharp relief, framed by smooth curves of leather. He relaxes his hands. Stretches out his fingers, watches how his exposed skin changes from a dusty red to a pale green when the light changes.

He accelerates and angles the car onto a winding side street. The incline is steep and poorly lit. He has to designate some sincere attention to keeping the car on the narrowing road. Finally, he summits. He coasts into a parking spot and puts on his parking brake. He leaves the car running, headlights off. Music still barely audible.

He is the only one in this dirt parking lot overlooking the blazing lights of LA. The valley below is awash in a golden glow. He's sure his girl would like the view. He shifts in his seat and his breath unexpectedly catches. He starts to feel the strain and tension in his body pool and turn into liquid heat.

Oh. He thinks to himself.

The uneasy sensation under his skin shifts and changes. It becomes impossible to ignore arousal, despite his best attempts to do so. He drags a gloved hand off the steering wheel and presses it into his upper thigh. He grips the denim and tilts his head back, pressing it into the headrest. He silently wills the erection straining against the zipper of his jeans to go away. It doesn't.

He pushes a harsh breath out of his lungs. The inhale is even more ragged. He feels his dick twitch and he loses the battle. He grinds his palm against his crotch, bucking up against the sensation. His back arches away from the backrest. The leather of his gloves catches clumsily against the fabric. He fumbles blindly for the seat release and reclines. It gives him more room to spread his legs wide, accommodating his wandering touch. He pauses for a moment, trembling and twitching against the weight of his own hand. With an abrupt, jerky motion, he sits up to wrestle himself out of his jacket and toss it into the back seat where it proceeds to slide off the smooth leather and onto the floorboard.

He sits hunched over in his seat, forehead against the steering wheel. His hands, the left fisting the fabric of his jeans and the right cupping himself, go still while he focuses on breathing. Unexpectedly, the glimpse he had gotten of his neighbor, of his girl, the other night flashes into his mind. His body stiffens and he feels himself spasm in interest.

He knows it's wrong, even as he works his zipper down. It's not enough to stop him though. He closes his eyes, leans back, and lets himself fantasize. He feels his dick spring free to lay leaking and rigid against his stomach. He's so worked up that he can feel his precum start to soak into his thin shirt and run down his shaft. He keeps his hands firmly on either thigh for the moment and simply focuses on his fantasy. He imagines his neighbor seated next to him. He thinks of her turning to him expectantly, lips parted, glossy, willing, ready. He swallows hard as he pictures her putting her hands on his thighs, right where his currently are. The only sounds in the Malibu are his heaving breaths and the faint music playing on the stereo. He knows he's running down his gas gauge by idling for so long but it doesn't matter. Nothing else matters but the thoughts of his girl.

He involuntarily jerks at the idea of her easing herself further into his space. He can almost feel the warmth of her breath against his lips. A non-imagined sensation is the precum that comes flooding at the thought. He finally wraps his hand around himself. The leather is immediately soaked through. He strokes himself. His grip is too harsh, too tight, not enough.

He wonders if she would let him kiss her while he jerks himself off. Would she look at him with shocked distain or would she coax his legs apart? Drape them over her lap and guide his hand to his own dick, encouraging him to touch it just for her as they press together intimately in the small space? He can picture the way his gloved hands would look. One on her jaw to draw her in for a kiss and the other wrapped around his flushed, weeping cock. She would pluck the toothpick from his mouth. She would kiss him hungrily, deeply. Painfully slow and all the while murmuring soft praise against his lips as he works himself over for her.

He pants silently, his mouth hanging open. There's a low whine building in his throat that he doesn't let escape. He imagines the slow, lingering presses of his neighbor's mouth against his. He feels his stomach tighten at the imagined sensation. His hand moves slower, lingeringly. He's taking his time now. He tightens his hand around his throbbing dick and strokes it tenderly in the way he imagines she would kiss him.

Would her mouth taste sweet? Bitter? Would he find a hint of coffee? Of the candy she favored so much? He had left a packet of it leaning against her front door one night after he had heard her complaining on the phone about running out. If she hadn't wanted him to know, she wouldn't have left her window ajar. He watches out for her. She is rarely without his presence, he makes sure of that. He can't not care for his girl. He knows she doesn't realize how much they've shared together. After all, he was the one keeping watch for perverts outside her window the other night as she teasingly stripped off her work clothes in preparation for her shower. He wishes he hadn't been standing in the parking lot at the time. He would have much rather been in her apartment with her, blinds tightly closed against the peeping toms he was deterring with his watchful presence. If only she had noticed him through her window and beckoned him to join her in the shower.

His hand stutters when he reminds himself of the sight of her. The leather catches uncomfortably against his skin. He thinks about the smooth expanse of her back, the way her breasts had slipped out of her bra when she had undone the clasps. He could see her now through half closed eyes, shirtless and lit by a golden glow. An angel hovering over him. He imagines her taking his free hand from her face and trailing it down her soft skin to her breast. Her delicate skin would slide like silk against his encased fingers. He would gently knead the yielding tissue, feel her nipple harden underneath his touch. The leather would be warm from their shared body heat. She should tell him how good he was, how he was her hero. She would lick her way into his mouth and-

The pressure building up inside him finally reaches its crescendo and it's all he can do to desperately grab at the steering wheel with his left hand as his other finishes the job. He braces his feet against the floorboard and cums hard. He makes the only sound he's allowed himself to make all night. It's a low, throaty growl of a moan. More animal than man. The toothpick in his mouth nearly snaps with how hard he bites down. He shakes and thrashes in his seat. His vision goes white. He breaks apart. He's emptying himself dry, nearly sobbing at the sensation.

He makes an absolute mess of himself and his vehicle. Semen runs down over the back of his hand. The milky fluid looks like rich trails of gold in the city lights. It gleams against the sodden leather. He sags in his seat, eyes staring blankly out of the windshield. The ringing in his ears gradually fades away and he becomes present in his body again. His girl always has the best way to make him cum, even if she doesn't know it.

He grabs a shirt from his passenger seat. It has lost most of its scent from its time in his '73. Much to his relief, however, he can still smell a faint trace of perfume and sweat. It had been a risky item to take, but it is one that he needed. He wipes off his face first, letting the scent of his girl wash over him before he cleans off his windshield and steering wheel. If only she had been here, he wouldn't have spent himself so recklessly. She would have been able to tell him exactly what to do. As it is, though, he drags the shirt down his chest to mop up the cum quickly soaking through his own shirt and towels off his softening dick. He winces at the overstimulation.

He tucks himself back into his jeans. He catches his breath before he pulls off his gloves and bundles them inside her shirt. He needs to do laundry anyway. He has been putting it off until his neighbor's bi-weekly visit to the machines. Always on a Wednesday afternoon. The chance to be in the same room as his girl was worth the inconvenience. He would also be able to return her shirt and borrow a fresher one to keep close for when he couldn't see her. Maybe she would be able to sense a trace of him in the fabric upon its return. His token of showing her exactly what she did to him.

His heart settles down and he finally starts to feel bone deep exhaustion set in. He is thoroughly spent. He turns his headlights back on and backs out of his parking spot. The gears shift smoothly under his expert hand. He's going to go back to his apartment and get a few hours of sleep just to wake up in time to see his girl's face as she comes home from work. If he's lucky, maybe she'll give him a tired smile when he holds the door for her as he exits the building. He mustn't be too greedy. After all, she seems to forget that she's his.

#drive 2011 #driver #drive fanfic #drive #ryan gosling #drive movie #Nobody even look at me. This the most gratuitous crap I've ever written. jfc #fanfiction #my work #my posts

129 notes · View notes

cinemoments · 4 months

Text

Drive, dir. Nicolas Winding Refn, 2011

#drive #drive movie #nicolas winding refn #movie poster #movie #movies #filmedit #films #film #film photography #drama movie #drame #ryan gosling #carey mulligan #bryan cranston #christina hendricks #oscar isaac

54 notes · View notes

eljohnny117 · 2 months

Text

I didn't know how to draw one of his hands : But it's not bad, eh :)

#ryan gosling #ryan gosling character #my art #art #digital art #driver #driver fanart #drive movie #drive 2011

43 notes · View notes

boardsdonthitback · 9 days

Text

Mark Dacascos - Drive (1997)

#mark dacascos #drive movie #steve wang #koichi sakamoto #action cinema #action choreography #action movies

28 notes · View notes

femalefemur · 8 months

Text

The Driver in Drive (2011)

#drive #drive 2011 #driver #drive movie

108 notes · View notes

cultreslut · 2 months

Text

drive (2011) dir. nicolas winding refn / crash (1996) dir. david cronenberg

#drive 2011 #drive movie #crash 1996 #crash #nicolas winding refn #david cronenberg #2011 #1996 #2010s #1990s #car crashes #web weave #parallels #cultreslut #crashing & driving

27 notes · View notes

artsy-moonwalker · 5 months

Text

car man

#fanart #ryan gosling #ryan gosling fanart #drive #drive fanart #driver #driver fanart #drive 2011 #drive movie #drive movie fanart

419 notes · View notes

characternametaken · 9 months

Text

#soundcloud #chill vibes #synth #synthwave #retrowave #2023 #electronic music #music #bass boosted #drive movie #ryan gosling #dark synth #spacecore

77 notes · View notes

hederasgarden · 2 years

Text

Need

Summary: He’s quiet, even when he’s fucking you. Paring: Driver x F!Reader Word Count: 600 Rating: Explicit, 18+ only. Semi public sex over the hood of a car, PIV sex, reference to fingering with gloves and biting. A/N: For @hoe-on-the-range who lets me annoy her with all the Baby Goose talk. Enjoy the pure filth targeted at your kinks, bestie. Thank you @wildbornsiren for beta'ing.

He’s quiet, even when he’s fucking you. All you hear is the harsh sound of his breath in your ear as he fills you again and again. His body is curled over yours, pressing your chest into the hard metal of his classic muscle car. Your dress is rucked up and panties pulled aside just enough for him to have you. It’s sensory overload with the cool hood of the car against your cheek and the sharp bite of his jeans against the back of your thighs.

“Oh god,” you gasp, clenching around him.

When you try to rise up on your elbows he leans more of his weight on you and grabs your hip to thrust into you hard enough to make the car roll back. Your fingers curl into fists near your head and you moan when he yanks at the collar of your dress to give him access to your shoulder and neck. The feel of his teeth on your skin has you coming around his cock with a painful orgasm that rocks your whole body. It washes over you completely, robbing you of your breath.

He fucks you through it, his tongue replacing the sting of his teeth as he laves at the tender skin. You close your eyes, panting when he continues to fuck you until his hips finally still. He lifts off you and runs a hand down your back, pushing your dress up over the swell of your ass. Gently, he squeezes your sides and slips out of you. You don’t move, your body catching up with your brain as you come down from your high.

You hear the sound of his zipper and jolt at the feel of his gloved fingers dragging through your messy folds. He fucked you with those gloves on in the front seat of his car earlier, letting you straddle his lap and ride yourself to orgasm. After he withdraws his fingers, he tugs your underwear back in place and pulls your dress down. He helps you stand, watching you silently.

His staring unnerved your coworkers at the diner, but you learned over the years to decipher the looks men gave you. When they meant harm and when they didn't. Even though he was the latter, he still made you nervous enough to drop your fair share of dishes whenever you caught him watching. There is something overwhelming about being the sole focus of his interest. You crave it despite how anxious it could make you.

“You alright?” He asks quietly.

You nod, wrapping your arm around your middle. What he did to you felt good but now you’re left feeling a little unmoored. He steps into your space, settling a big hand against the side of your face and tilting your chin up. His kiss is achingly gentle and your lips part immediately to let his tongue into your mouth. It’s not passionate or hard like you expect, it’s meant to comfort and calm. You sigh into his mouth and sag against him as he holds you to his body.

He breaks the kiss but rests his forehead against yours. The word narrows to just the two of you and you stare into his intensely blue eyes. He smiles. “I should take you home. You have the early shift tomorrow.”

You nod, unsure how he knows your work schedule. Maybe that should bother you but it doesn’t. He makes you feel safe, protected, and that’s a rare thing.

“Alright,” you agree, turning your face up to kiss him again.

#driver x reader #drive movie #drive #baby goose #it's so dumb they never gave his character a name #ryan gosling

499 notes · View notes

papershipghosts · 6 months

Text

#except it's his girlfriend's husband #but i had to make it work #ryan gosling #drive 2011 #the driver #drive movie #ryan gosling shitpost #meme

46 notes · View notes

drivinmeinsane · 8 months

Text

Thoughts on Driver as a romantic partner

He's not inclined to talk much. He never mastered small talk, but he could listen to you speak all day long. He's an active listener and mentally files away anything you say that might be important. He shows his affection with acts of service, especially if it's related in any way, shape, or form to vehicles. Anything your car ever needs? Done and done. It'll never run better. Although, Driver will always insist on taking you places himself regardless of how well he maintains your vehicle. Despite some complicated feelings, he wants to be part of a family even if that family is made up of just the two of you. He wants to be wanted. He lives for the little domesticities. Quiet nights in front of the TV with your legs over his lap are his favorite. He's a paranoid overthinker and too trigger happy. He tries to hide his violent tendencies from you, but you can still see the edges of them. He's not necessarily a jealous man, but he is a protective one. Possessive. There is no hesitation when it comes to defending you. Any slight directed towards you does not bode well for the offender's wellbeing. He'll take the excuse to lash out. His idea of a date is to take you out on a drive. He's intimately familiar with the city and its hidden spots. He takes you to tucked away places and hole in the wall eateries you would have never known existed. He's especially fond of Mexican food. He's content when he sees the wonder on your face at each new surprise. He yields and softens just for you. You easily bring that shy smile of his to life. He talks to you more than he talks to anyone else. Driver has a tendency to watch you. He had his eyes on you without your knowledge long before you two became an item. His obsessive observation does not go away even now that he has you. You often wake to find him staring at you. The man rarely sleeps. His schedule is erratic. He doesn't disclose what he does at night. It's better that way. He always comes back to you. He'll slip into bed with you in the late hours of the night, smelling of leather and oil. He's always warm. With you in his life, he has eyes for no one else. He's not overly sentimental. All his belongings can fit into a duffle bag that he can toss into his trunk ever few months, but you're the one thing he can't compartmentalize. He uses any excuse to drape his jacket over you. The item of clothing comforts him so he supposes it ought to comfort you as well. He wants to share that feeling of security with you. He's dense when it comes to sentimental emotions or flirtatious intentions that are directed at him. He simultaneously infers too much and not enough. You have to be forward and direct with him.

18+ thoughts below the cut.

He's got a hair trigger. If he even thinks too hard about kissing you, he's all but cumming in his pants. He has a very vivid imagination. It's a problem.

He's intense and consuming. Any sexual interaction with him feels like he will devour you whole. He's not slow, he does not take his time. He's not one for savoring the moment. He likes it hard, fast, and messy.

He's always silent while he gets off. His breathing is ragged and he open-mouthed pants, but he does not whine or moan. The most you'll get is a low groan that sounds more like a growl when he cums.

His libido is high. All too often, he gets unexpectedly and painfully aroused. It's common for him desperately jerk off while thinking about you, fantasizing about things you've done or he would like you to do. Most fantasies are centralized around his car. It's like an extension of him. He bounces from crappy apartment to crappy apartment but the car remains the same.

Driver has an intense praise kink. He wants to be put down on his knees, pressed back against a seat, or pushed down on his stomach over the hood of his car. Anything. He's desperate to be told he's doing so good, what a good boy, good job, Driver.

#drive 2011 #driver #driver x reader #drive movie #my posts #my work #mostly movie canon with some additional characterization pulled from the two books by James Sallis #my feelings about this character are definitely a lot more complex than I'm letting on here #but i gotta keep it palatable for the “if ___ was your partner” format #I'll be going feral and deranged later. don't worry lmao

80 notes · View notes