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danime25 · 7 months

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Sweater

masterlist // ao3

Summary: Holland wanted to take his girl out tonight. She had other plans.

Rating: +18 for explicit mature content

Content/Tags: Smut, Gratuitous Smut

Status: One Shot/Complete

Another day, another lead to nowhere and yet it wasn’t such a bad day at the Nice Guys Agency. He had Holly waiting for him at home and a nice rocks glass just begging to be filled with whisky. After all, he needed to loosen up a little before his ‘date’, as his daughter would call it. He’d dab a little cologne on before he met his lady, maybe pick out a nicer tie than the ones he would normally wear to work. He pulled up to his house and saw the lights were off. He raised an eyebrow but his first thought was about Holly, wondering where she could be. Ideally, she’d either be at Healy’s or Janet… no that wasn’t her name. He racked his brain for a second before deciding it really didn’t fucking matter all that much. Maybe Holly was throwing him a surprise party? What would the reason be? Again, it didn’t fucking matter all that much. Finally, after spending a minute or two in his car he got out and quietly unlocked the door. He flicked the light. His lips moved before his voice managed to say anything and saw a figure sitting on his couch. Her hair draped over one shoulder and she was almost perfectly still. She turned around to face him and her whole face lit up. Damn. She was the hottest fucking woman around right now.

“Hi Babe.”

“Hey.” He greeted her cautiously. She got up from the couch to meet him, wrapped her arms around the back of his neck and pulled him into a kiss. His hands moved to have one support her back and the other work its way into the luxurious silky hair she had. When she pulled away he looked down at her body. He noticed her legs were showing and then looked up to see that all she seemed to be wearing was a sweater that acted like a dress on her. “That’s… my sweater.”

“Yeah?” She raised her eyebrow and bit her lip. He wanted to devour her there, but his brain started working before he could do that.

“Where’s Holly?”

“Over at Jessica’s. Gave her 10 for a pizza. Gave that slut of a sister 10 to keep her legs shut.”

“God she’s such a slut.” His voice trailed off as his eyes darted back down to her chest. “One last question.”

“Yes?”

“Why the fuck you still got it on?” He took the sweater and lifted it off over her head and was greeted with the cutest pair of panties. She wrapped her legs around his hips and with all the force in his body slammed her into the wall. He moved one hand up from resting on her ass and worked it up her back to support her neck. She shoved her tongue into his mouth and he felt his eyes roll to the back of his head while keeping his lips pressed up against hers as much as possible. She wiggled a bit and moved her arms underneath his arms. She used her hips to rock into Holland, throwing him off a little bit and he stumbled away from the wall, only to push her back into him. After what felt like seconds and hours all at once, he pulled away from her and she got onto her feet. “Jesus fucking Christ.” Without a word, she ripped open his shirt, two or three buttons flying off onto the floor. She worked her hands over the waistband of his pants and kissed him again. He kissed back before letting out the tiniest of moans. “God… stop fucking teasing me babe…”

“Tell me what you want.” She looked into his eyes. She looked so innocent, but Holland knew that couldn’t be further from the truth.

“God just let me fuck you.”

“Should have said that sooner.”

He threw his shirt and tank top off to the floor and jimmied with his belt. He cursed under his breath as his fingers fumbled to undo the buckle, only for her to swat his hand away and unbuckled him. He picked her up and threw her down on the couch. She twirled a strand of her hair around her finger before Holland practically jumped on top of her. He took one of her legs and pushed it up so her foot laid flat on the couch. He rested on top of her before he thrusted inside of her with one firm motion of his hips. She made a grunt from the back of her throat as he slowly started thrusting into her. He took it slow at first, but when he looked down at her face and the way she was trying to hold back all the moans, he sped himself up.

“Fuck.” She dug her fingernails into his shoulder blades which only urged him to move faster as he wanted her to move her hands down lower on his back. Her back arches as he thrusts deeper into her. “Fuck Hol.”

“Say that again.” He moaned

“Fuck Hol.” She repeated herself

“Say something else.” He grunted, sweat dripping down his face

“What the fuck do you want me to say?” Her chest heaved as she got close to getting off

“Anything.” He let out a pathetic little whine as he felt the heat pooling in his abdomen

“Just fucking cum inside of me already, Hol!” She slapped his back with her dominant hand and like that his body jerked and he came. His pace slowed until he came to a complete stop and lied on top of her.

After a minute of pants and otherwise near silence he finally broke it with a normal volume, “Jesus.”

“Fuck.” She smiled as she cursed

“Fuck.” He nodded before doing his best to wrap his arms around her in the position they were in on the couch. If he could have moved he would’ve carried her to his bedroom. And yet… he needed her again, right here right now. He nipped at her neck a little bit and watched as her head rolled back. “God. I need a smoke.”

“Give me one too.” She said before he got up to grab his pack from out of his coat pocket along with his lighter. After he got up off her, she went across the room and picked her clothes off of the corner she hid them in before her boyfriend got home. He watched as her back faced him and she slowly, so painfully slowly put her clothes back on like a reverse strip tease. After he got his light started he fumbled through his clothes on the ground and put his tank top and pants back on. Just in case Holly came back, with Jessica in tow. After a couple minutes spent smoking, she looked over at the phone hanging on the wall.

“So Chinese?” She said nonchalantly

“Yeah, Chinese would be great.” He darted his eyes away from her glare before going across to the kitchen to start dialing.

“Hol?”

“Yeah?” He turned towards her, just as he was about to punch in the last number

“I’m glad we stayed in.”

“Yeah. I am too.” He smiled before saying, “You should wear my clothes more often.”

#nice guys #the nice guys #holland march #my writing #my fic #my work #my post #the nice guys 2016 #nice guys 2016 #fanfic #fanfiction

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mystery-star · 7 months

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Whumptober 2023 - Day 7 | Alleyway

Characters: Jackson Healy, Holland March

Words: 954

Warnings: violence

A/N: Day seven for Whumptober, today’s prompt: Alleyway

Healy was by no means a coward or even scared. After all, observing people was almost a daily chore in his ‘new’ job. But he definitely preferred if they took place during daytime and not in what seemed to be the darkest alley in LA, was all. And especially not when he had been watching that damned street for hours already when nothing was happening. At the same time, his partner was out interviewing some people of interest. He stifled a yawn and stretched a little before reaching out to his drink he had placed beside him. As if on cue, he caught a movement in the corner of his eye and while his hand went for the gun at his hip his head shot around too. But he could see nothing in the darkness. Not taking his eyes away, he drank a few sips, putting the bottle away and wiping his face. If only he knew where March was again so he could take over like they had agreed. It would seem his partner had once again forgotten. Or simply didn’t want to and then claim he’d forgotten if Healy mentioned it. Again something caught his attention but this time it was a sound. A gunshot that came from the direction he thought to have seen the movement just before. Should he check it out? After all he didn’t know if it was what he was looking for. On the other hand, he was on the lookout for anything unusual and suspicious. So he took out his gun, opened the car door as quietly as he could and stepped out. Leaving the door open, he slowly moved towards the place the action he wanted to investigate took place, making sure to use his vehicle as cover.

“Someone’s here!” a deep voice shouted and he suppressed a curse. So much for using cover. Although only a moment later bullets were flying and he did crouch down, happy that the car saved his life but also annoyed that he would need to have it repaired yet again or get another one. He tried to find out how many people there were but all the knew was that there probably were more than two shooting and God knew how many more there were. Then, to his surprise and relief the shots stopped and he heard hushed voices. For good measure, he stayed down another couple of seconds before he dared a little glance over the back of the car and deciding he wanted to check it out further. He hadn’t even made it around the back of the vehicle when three men stood there, pointing guns at him.

“Drop it!” one said with a nod towards his own pistol and he complied. Almost in that moment, a fist collided with his jaw. But it took way more to take him down and so two of the men started beating in on him, while the third one still held him at gunpoint until Healy went to his knees “What are you doing here? And who are you?”

“Must have lost my way and then fell asleep in the car” the hit told him that they didn’t believe him.

“What are you doing here? You a cop?”

“A cop? Me? Never” one of the men seemed fed up and started rummaging his jacket until they found his wallet which also contained is ID and PI license. He showed it to his friends. Of course they did not like it and could literally feel their wrath.

“Who sent you?”

“My partner” he replied with a slight grin. This time, when the blow came, he grabbed the guy’s wrist and twisted it until it broke. He only let go when he heard another shot and pain spread through his arm. It would seem they still needed him (at least his answers) or else they might have just killed him.

“Who hired you?”

“Now that is confidential…” the gun was pressed against his temple. He better get an idea how to get away or this would be his end. Maybe if he played for time or made them think they needed him alive for longer he’d have a chance to flee. Or perhaps even March would come look for him or to finally show up and relieve him. “Alright so we didn’t ever get his name. Just called himself R. I never met him but my partner did. Came to him three days ago”

“Why?”

“Well to hire us”

“Why did he hire you?” he gave him a glance

“Does it matter? He pays, we deliver. At least that’s what my partner thinks”

“Your partner?”

“Yeah. He’s a couple of blocks away, observing there” when the one with the gun sent the others away Healy had to hide his smirk.

“That all you know?”

“At least concerning this case. Sorry, nothing more for you to beat out of me”

“That’s alright” before he had even finished speaking, Healy shot up, tackling the man to the ground and hitting him a few times for good measure. As if on cue, he heard police sirens and also March’s car was coming into view a short while later. He jumped out of the car almost before the police could even stop and hurried over

“Took you long enough” Healy said with a rise of his eyebrow, getting up to retrieve his own gun

“Figured you had it under control and seems you did. Or more or less. Except for some wounds that can heal. But you managed and survived and that counts. We all should have a drink on this newest successful case” Healy could only shake his head over his partner, as usual.

#whumptober 2023 #no.7 #alleyway #the nice guys #fic #violence #interrogation #jackson healy #holland march #nice guys 2016

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evakant · 1 year

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THE NICE GUYS (2016) — dir. shane black

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hotdiggitydog-billy · 10 months

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Oh my god! It's The Nice Guys!

#Please please please look at them #look at my beatiful boys #the nice guys #the nice guys 2016 #holland march #jackson healy

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uncleclam · 6 months

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the draft has been rotting in my files for a month and ive managed to finish ittttt

idea from anon or @papershipghosts i believe

#ryan gosling #fanart #the nice guys 2016 #holland march #jackson healy

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papershipghosts · 1 month

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FINEST MAN!

#god he's so fine #the cigarettes and bad ash tray #the zippo on top of the pack #man drinks his shit straight no ice no nothing!!!!!!#holland march #the nice guys #the nice guys 2016 #ryan gosling #ryan gosling nose appreciation #DID YOU EVEN SEE HIS NOSE #BE HONESTTTT #This is a Certified Ryan Gosling Nose Moment

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ken-dom · 8 months

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A Long Time

Holland March x afab!reader

Summary: Holland wants you, but he's scared to move on.

Warnings/content: nsfw, reader has a vagina, fingering, hand job, angst, mentions of Holland's wife, crying, praise, alcohol and smoking mention

The record comes to a crackling end, but Holland carries on swaying with you, snaking his lithe arms ever tighter around your waist, holding you impossibly closer.

He presses your bodies flush as though he's worried that the end of the last song means the end of your arms around him, but he wants to stay here forever, head dropped to bury his face against your neck, your arms reaching up around his shoulders.

'Mmh. You feel so fucking good,' he mumbles against your shoulder, his voice weak and cracking halfway.

He shifts his hips and you feel his hard cock brushing against your stomach through the layers of your clothing.

'Holland...' you breathe, pulling back to encourage him to face you.

Your gaze flicks down to his lips and back up to meet his eyes. They’re shining, full of adoration and sleepiness and just a touch too much alcohol. And something else. A sadness you can't quite place.

His shaky breath fills the inch between you.

'It's been a long time... I-' he hesitates, almost too whispered to hear.

His eyes follow the same pattern yours just did, and he doesn't flinch when you edge toward his lips, testing the waters.

He pushes forward too, lips crashing onto yours, and it's tingly and soft and hot, and he’s overcome with a sensation of drowning in you. He hasn't felt like this since... well, since-

All the wonder he felt from slow dancing with you amplifies until an all-encompassing wave engulfs him in the most comforting way, pulling his soul clean from his body and proceeding to carefully piece it back together until he feels almost whole again.

Your tongue slips between his lips for a moment and you taste the liquor he’s been sipping all night and the cigarette he smoked immediately after dinner.

His tongue brushes against yours, playful and excited.

When the kiss slows to a natural end, you drop back.

'Jesus!' He exclaims through a heavy exhale. 'Can we do that again?!'

You chuckle as your hand slides down from his shoulder, biting your lip mischievously when your fingers reach the waistband of his trousers.

Holland freezes. 'Oh, I- uh-'

You drop your hand to your side while your heart sinks, heavy and . You think he'll ask you to leave so he can wallow in unhappiness all while you taste him for days, feel him pressed against you for days, wishing he would finally open up to you.

But he hasn't let go yet.

'When I said it had been a long time... I meant, it's been a really long time... Jesus, I’ll probably cum before you even touch me.'

You take a deep breath and smile up at him, core clenching at hearing him talk about cumming so openly, watching the way his long eyelashes close over his eyes and his cheeks glow with the prickling heat of shame he feels at admitting it.

'I'm trying to be romantic and I already said the word cum,' he huffs, annoyed with himself.

'You have been romantic. All night.' Your hand comes back up, softly cupping his cheek this time so your thumb can stroke gently at the corner of his moustache.

'And I don't care when you cum.' - His eyes widen in surprose at hearing you say it - 'We can just carry on dancing, or we could kiss again, if you'd like.'

'No, no, I want to- I... fuck-' he growls in frustration.

'It's alright,' you soothe, gesturing to the sofa.

He loosens his arms and drops down onto it, spinning the both of you around and unintentionally pulling you on top of him in the process, so that you end up sitting sideways in his lap, legs stretched across the seats and Holland’s arms still around you, as if he's carried you here bridal style.

He gasps when you shift to get comfortable and unintentionally rub against his aching length, squeezing his eyes closed for a moment to compose himself.

'It's ok if you want to take it slow. I can wait for you, as long as you need... Dinner with me was a big step… why don't we aim to start off with something you feel comfortable doing?'

Your simple suggestion seems to spark something in him; his face lights up and he licks his lips in thought. It's kind of silly and yet somehow seductive, and it makes your core clench.

'Well... my wife always said I was good with my hands...' he drawls, considering the tattoo across the top of his right hand and wondering if perhaps it would be an untrue statement tonight. He felt happy when you ate dinner by candlelight, and then while he was dancing with you. He was sure of it.

'She used to say a lot of shit I didn't understand. You know she was British? But I know one thing I could start with that she used to really like... something that drove her wild. Maybe you'll like it too?'

There's a touch of heartbreak in his voice and it crushes the fluttering butterflies in your stomach for a moment. You're overcome with wanting to hold him, to help him through his pain, but even he doesn't know where to begin with that.

Whatever he wants right now, though, you know you'll do for him. That would be a start, at least.

'Show me,' you request simply, expecting him to hold your hand while he kisses you, push his fingers up to bunch in your hair, maybe even massage your shoulders a little.

But as the arm beneath you moves to cradle your neck, his other hand slides down, cupping your slightly bent knee.

'Spread your legs for me,' he says softly, pulling at the knee he's caressing.

It's so unexpected, so throwaway, that you almost miss what he's asking of you.

'Holland? Are you sur-ohhh- mmh...'

His fingertips trail up your thigh as he watches your face intently, sparks shooting up to your core as his fingers drag ever closer. It already feels electric, and he hasn't even started touching you yet. At least, not where you're already aching for him to.

'H-Holland, are you sure you- w-want to-' you try again, breathless.

'Shhh,' he smiles, fingers finally toying with the elastic of your underwear. 'I want to do this more than anything... god I've missed this...'

He slides your underwear aside with ease, dipping his middle finger inside to collect your slick, spreading it through your folds and up to massage your throbbing clit.

You jolt upward as he circles your sensitive nub with incredibly delicate precision, his elegant fingers dancing in perfect time with the needs your body, as though he can read your mind and predict what you'll need next.

As much as you've daydreamed about his long fingers playing with you just like this, you never thought he'd actually be any good at it. Holland isn't elegant, precise, delicate... he's klutzy, kind of dumb... often drunk. You half expected he would rub at you fiercely without skill or thought, but this? This feels like he knows your body better than you know your own.

'Jesus, you're so wet...' he coos delightedly through smirking lips, pushing his finger back inside and curling it perfectly against your sweet spot while you moan and writhe in his lap.

Your back arches and he pumps faster, holding you tight with his other arm to keep you from sliding off his long legs in your throes of ecstasy.

His own arousal is killing him, simmering beneath his desire to bring you off spectacularly. He needs to see your pleasure before he can focus on his own, needs something to think about instead of how his wife used to feel.

He can hold off, he's sure of it, but it's getting harder to ignore now that precum is steadily leaking from his throbbing tip, and you're squirming across his lap with your legs spread wide, eyes squeezed shut, mouth dropped open, a never-ending string of desperate cries echoing around his house from the pleasure he's bringing you.

You wrap your fingers around his tie, pulling him down, and scream his name as your climax finally hits, his finger buried inside you and his thumb pressed to your clit, fucking you mercilessly with his unexpectedly clever fingers.

When you come to, blurred vision clearing and the ringing of pleasure in your ears subsiding, you look up to see him sucking his fingers clean. You almost pass out at the sight.

'Fuck, Holland. I wasn't expecting that... I can see why your wife was such a fan.'

You slide yourself up to straddle him, adjusting your underwear as you settle above him.

'I think I'm pretty good with my hands too, you know... do you think you're ready for me to show you?'

Holland's face crinkles in confusion. 'Aren't you spent?' he asks incredulously.

'No, Holland, I mean on you.'

His eyes widen in realisation, and he nods.

Without hesitation, you pop his trousers open and slip a hand inside, humming at the copious amount of precum coating his thick, throbbing length.

'I don't know how your wife would do it,' you whisper carefully, 'but I hope you like it the way I do.'

Holland whines and buries his face into the crook of your neck, a tear slipping from his glistening eyes, wetting your cool flesh. You wrap your other arm around his shoulders when you feel it, holding him close to you.

'Just relax, ok? Focus on my touch, on my voice. I've got you... you're so hard... you need this, baby. It doesn't matter if you cum-'

'UGH! Jesus! Fuck!' he cries, muffled against your throat, voice cracking into a high pitched whine.

He shudders through his release, safe in your arms, trembling as the last of his seed spills inside his underwear and over your hand, thick and hot. There's so much of it you wonder when was the last time he came.

You lean forward to place him against the back of the sofa again, and he shakes, tears pouring down his face. You brush his mussed hair away from his forehead and loosen his tie enough to remove it, tossing it behind you.

'Shhh, baby, it's alright.' You wipe the tears from his cheeks with your clean hand, and he leans into your touch. 'You did so well for me. I know it's been a while.'

'Please... kiss me again,' he breathes helplessly, reaching up to push his fingers into your hair and pull you closer.

It's not as heated as your last kiss. It's slow, languid, needy but without the sexual tension. A different kind of need.

You feel him relax beneath you and pull away to catch your breath, opening your eyes to see Holland fast asleep. Smiling.