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jjsmaybank20 · 1 year

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Hi!!!! It's me again,🦁 Anon. I just looked at Glass onion and can I ask for a request for whiskey x reader. The reader was relaxing in the pool with others, and the moment whiskey comes out of the pool, the Reader literally froze and stared at her. The others started joking or making a remark about it until the Reader took Whiskey's hand and dragged her to her room because the Reader got excited.

Can the end be cute and fluffy?

Thank you very much!!!🥺

Speechless

Whiskey x Fem!Cody!Reader

Summary: Your girlfriend is gorgeous, and never fails to make you speechless.

Warnings: Nothing really, just fluff

Word Count: 759

navigation misc. masterlist

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When you, your brother, and your girlfriend were invited to Miles Bron’s weekend getaway/murder mystery party, you knew you were in for a treat. Miles never failed to astonish, so arriving at his private island housing his massive complex, you couldn’t say you were surprised.

Miles was an eccentric person, so of course the rooms were assigned based off of chakra. You bid your brother and your girlfriend goodbye, and headed towards your room to get ready for the pool.

You throw on some swim trunks, a bikini top, and a hawaiian shirt to wear over it. You check yourself over, seeing that you look good, and head down to the pool to meet up with your friends.

Making your way down, you see Lionel and Claire already on the side having a conversation. You approach them, and they greet you warmly.

“Y/N Cody, as I live and breathe! We didn’t have much time to catch up. How is everything? How’re you and Whiskey?” Claire inquires. You go to answer, but are interrupted by Birdie making her grand entrance.

“Guys. Lionel and Y/N, you guys are too hot to be scientists. And Claire, you look so cute.” You glance over at Lionel, and then you see Claire flipping Birdie off, making you laugh.

“You just gave Bird the bird, Claire-bear.” You exclaim, making Lionel laugh along with you. Claire then glares at you, hating the nickname you had assigned to her. Everyone in your group had a nickname that you had given them, which you always called them.

Claire is Claire-bear, Birdie is Bird, Lionel is Lion, Duke is Dick, Miles is My-My, Peg is Peggy, and Andi is… well, was Cassie.

While in your own head about Andi, you tune out Birdie and Claire bickering. You finally tune back in when Claire re-asks you the questions from before. “Oh! Y/N, answer the questions from before Birdie interrupted. How is everything? How’re you and Whiskey?”

You smile at the woman, and respond, “Things are good! Lion and I have been absolutely stacked at work, but you know how Miles is. Me and Whiskey are doing amazing.”

Lionel then looks around for your girlfriend. When he doesn’t spot her, he inquires, “Where is your girl, anyway?” You then look around, also not spotting her. You open your mouth to say something, but a clearly not listening Birdie interrupts again.

“God and no masks I can breathe again. Look at this pool, maybe I'll go for a swim.” As soon as she finishes her sentence, your gorgeous girlfriend breaks through the surface of the water gracefully. Your jaw drops, your eyes widen, and you turn bright red.

Lionel and Claire quickly take note of this, and immediately begin teasing you. “Hey, Y/N. You’ve got some drool right there.” Lionel puts his finger on your chin. You immediately slap his hand away, not taking your eyes off of your girlfriend.

Claire calls out to Whiskey, shouting, “Hey Whiskey! I think you broke your girlfriend!” Whiskey glances over at you, smirking at the expression on your face.

“Baby, you okay?” She asks. You say something intelligent like ‘Uh- mhm- yep- so good.’ She laughs and swims towards the stairs leading out of the pool. You quickly get up, not bothering to bid your friends goodbye. You know they won’t mind.

As soon as you make it to where your girlfriend is standing, you grab her hand, yank her out of the pool, and pick her up bridal style before running to your room. She laughs joyfully, and wraps her arms around your neck.

---

Once you reach your shared suite, you shift her so that she is pressed between you and the door. You kissed her intensely, and quickly started to trail them down her neck. You heard her let out a breathy laugh and felt the vibrations in her throat when she asked, “What’s gotten into you, babe?”

You pull back and put your foreheads together, smiling at the woman you loved. “It just always amazes me how you seem to get prettier and prettier every time I look at you.”

Whiskey blushes at that, and pecks your lips again before hopping down from your arms. She grabs your hand and pulls you down onto the bed, making you let out a yelp of surprise. She quickly climbs on top of you. Cuddling into your chest.

You couldn’t be happier than in this moment, on this island, with the people you love. If only you knew how fast it would go to shit.

---

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saccharinescorpion · 1 year

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Glass Onion is on Netflix now so now i can show you my Fraught F/F Ship In A Benoit Blanc Movie That Absolutely No One Else Is Going To Ever Post About

#if you missed the boat Meg x Martha was the one from Knives Out #i hope the third one has one of these #glass onion #glass onion spoilers #knives out 2 #knives out 2 spoilers #whiskey #cassandra brand #helen brand #i hope if you're looking at this you've seen the movie by now lol

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jay-wasstuff · 1 year

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The only acceptable way that Philip and Benoit could've met and fall in love is by Philip being the prime suspect in a brutal murder case and Benoit is attempting to convince himself that 'this fine asf man with the personality of a golden retriever could not possibly be the murderer' whilst stacks of evidence builds against Philip, thus leading Benoit to slowly doubt his guts as well as Philip's innocence but by the end Benoit solves it and it was the actual killer trying to frame Philip or smt idk he's just innocent tho

#i went through all works under philipxbenoit tag on ao3 and im THIRSTING for more #if you wanna write this out GO AHEAD PLEASE just tag/dm me so i can read it asap when it up #glass onion #knives out #daniel craig #rian johnson #benoit blanc #lgbt #lgbtqia #gay #benoit x phillip #hugh grant #phillip #ao3 #AO3 #fanfiction #fanfic

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sonyapaxtonapologist · 1 year

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i know i know that hugh grant has been typecast as adorkably loveable romcom boyfriend in every movie released between the years 1995 and 2009 so it’s tempting to say he’d be easily flustered and wooed by a suave southern sleuth but given that daniel craig’s benoit blanc is a delightful subversion of the bond role craig was trapped stuck cast in for fifteen years i like to believe that grant’s phillip is a subversion too. which is a very lengthy way of saying he Tops that little blond bitch

#i love to see …. perceive ….#phillip: are you still on the bath ?? 🙄😤#blanc: … no 😶‍🌫️🤥😳🫣😶#knives out: glass onion #benoit blanc #benoit x phillip #mine #text

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humanthatexistsrn · 1 year

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look at this fucking fruit

jessica henwick really went and said “yeah shes gay” and honestly thats so real of her

#glass onion #knives out #knives out spoilers #glass onion spoilers #i mean you can tell #its her x helen x whiskey #i dont make the rules sorry

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finleycannotdraw · 10 months

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BENOIT BLANC!!! IS FUCKING GAY!!!!!!!!!!!!

if anyone wants my take on phillip I will happily provide it

#benoit x phillip #benoit blanc #phillip blanc #(do they have the same last name??)#glass onion #knives out #so many of y’all are wrong about phillip istg #‘he’s a retired criminal’ N O!!!!#he is the most Some Guy you have EVER met #benoit needs like. an actual home to come home to. he solves crime guys his husband needs to not be involved with that #ok I’m restraining myself from posting the whole phillip thesis #finley cannot draw #There Will Be More

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bits-and-babs · 1 year

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𝐃𝐞𝐜𝐞𝐢𝐭 || 𝐁𝐞𝐧𝐨𝐢𝐭 𝐁𝐥𝐚𝐧𝐜 𝐱 𝐅!𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

IMPORTANT! This fic was written with ONLY Knives Out as it’s source material, I haven’t yet seen Glass Onion. I have since been made aware 1000+ words into this fic that Benoit is gay as of the second film. I didn’t want what I had to go to waste. This is the only time I will write for him in a m x f relationship.

Summary: You introduce Private Investigator Benoit to Cluedo

Word Count: 3.1K

CW: FEMALE READER. Please see explanation above. sassy Benoit. Vague references to a mild age gap relationship, easter egg references to Knives Out film 🤭 Nylon Kink. A bit of knife play. Oral, f receiving.

Tease: “On the contrary,” he answers you with a playful lilt to his drawl, slowly sinking to his knees before you, “I intend to stay right here.”

“You’ve never played Cluedo?!”

Shock permeates each syllable of your parroted sentence, your jaw slack as you stare at your partner with complete incredulity. Benoit, in turn, peers vacantly at you like you’ve said something ridiculously dense.

“Ain’t that what I just said?” He asks you, his monotonous voice lacking any true irritation as he taps the ashes of his cigar into the ashtray on the coffee table between you.

“Nah, we’ve gotta fix that,” you insist, slapping your palms on your knees before raising from your armchair. Benoit peers over the rim of his tortoiseshell glasses, and his icy-blue eyes follow your body across the room.

“Now— Dear, you’ve worked a long shift; you can’t be runnin’ around playin’ detective with me,” he tries to reason with you, attempts to talk you down from the inevitable shitshow that was no doubt about to unfold in the shape of solution cards and miniature murder weapon props. It’s all fruitless, though, because you’re sweeping aside Benoit’s beloved ashtray and ignoring his protestations as you drop the board game’s box onto the coffee table.

Yes, you’d slogged a nine-hour shift and hadn’t had time to change into less formal attire. Your pencil skirt bunches up your thighs, and the button-down blouse collar lies taut against your throat. Hell, your nude tights are beginning to itch too, but you’re far too invested in this ridiculous adventure and refuse to turn back at the sound of Benoit’s listless objections.

“Here we go,” you mumble to yourself, sliding the lid off the cardboard box and electing to ignore the heavy sigh that Benoit hopelessly attempts to conceal. He leans forward to put out his cigar in the ashtray you had unceremoniously discarded on the wooden floor, eyeing you as you set out the board game items and distribute each piece evenly.

“Who would you like to play as?” You ask, offering out the coloured tokens in your outstretched palm.

Benoit peers at each of the six shades of plastic pawn figurines, his expression betraying his evident discontent. “You know I do this for a livin’, don’t you, Dear?”

Your scowl in retaliation to his query has Benoit snatching up the green token from your hand and setting it on his end of the table. Again you smile as though he’d never spoken and choose red for yourself. Reverend Green and Miss Scarlett.

Carefully, you shuffle the weapon, suspect, and room card decks. Then, as discreetly as possible, take the top card from each pile and put them into the murder envelope without peeking at the details on the other side.

Finally, ignoring the obnoxious sighs rattling in Benoit’s chest, you hand out the Clue cards. Five cards each for you and Benoit, four apiece for the pair of ghost hands; purple and blue. You pinch the dice between your forefinger and thumb, holding it in front of your lover's face. “Odd for purple, even for blue. Got it?”

“Got it,” he responds, clearly finding the process tedious already but suffering through for you. Your eyes are alight with excitement, a grin permanently fixed on your lips. How was he to say no? In fact, he found himself amused by your enthusiasm to understand his line of work— even if it was through juvenile means.

“Alright!” You giggle, rolling the dice to move your scarlet pawn token forward. “Let’s begin!”

-✩-

Chimes sound from the mahogany grandfather clock situated in the corner of Benoit’s living room. They’re almost deafening in the silence that has befallen the coffee table. Although it feels like moments, you realise the minute hand has completed a revolution of the face of the timepiece — You’ve been playing for an hour. You’re no closer to identifying the killer than you were sixty minutes ago.

Benoit appears bored to tears, chain-smoking cigars and even leaves his seat at one point to obtain a glass of whiskey. To the amusement of both of you, you hadn’t noticed his absence, too wrapped up in the game to realise he’d gone AWOL.

“Now, Darlin’,” he begins, cutting both the stillness of the room and your acute concentration with his southern drawl. “Don’t you think it’s time we called it a night? It’s gettin’ awfully late—“

“Benoit,” you whine petulantly, noting the wince it earns you from the older man. He certainly looks like he’d acquired a few more silver hairs since you began this wretched game. “I want to finish it.”

“Mhmm…” Benoit pushes his spectacles up his nose, glancing over the board with mirth, “I knew a man who wouldn’t admit defeat in a board game. Know what happened?”

You glance up at him, eyebrow raised in question.

“He died.”

“Benoit!”

Exasperated, Benoit turns his black cards over, revealing his weapon, room and character. He raises his hands in defeat, settling back in his seat and officially ruling himself out of the game. “There, you only gotta look at two suspects… You're not much of a detective, are you?”

“You‘ve solved it already, haven’t you?!” You gasp, looking up at him with wide doe-eyes and dismay. He answers with a firm nod of his head. Perhaps it was foolish of you, but you really thought you’d established egalitarianism with a board game. “Well, go on, how did you know?”

Benoit inhales, opening his mouth to speak and finally put an end to this ridiculousness. “Well, now, I—“

“Wait!” you shout out, holding a hand up as though it would physically restrain the syllables of his deduction from leaving his lips. “I’ll figure it out myself!”

Sullenly, Benoit sinks back into his armchair, admitting defeat and allowing you to play out your inspector fantasy. He pouts for a few moments, watching you furiously exert your mind with the evidence before dragging his gaze over your uniform.

A quiet man, reticent in nature, Benoit rarely discussed his appreciation for your work apparel. Yes, the pencil skirt was lovely and hugged your body well, and the blouse accentuated your bodily aesthetics, but it was the tights that really captured his imagination.

In truth, Benoit was fascinated with your nylon wardrobe and could go so far as to say it was somewhat of a sexual preference. A kink. He enjoyed the sleek look they gave your legs, their shine underneath lights. Once, the feel of your stockings in his hand as he held your foot up to aid in fastening one of your heels had set him alight.

Gazing at your legs, folded over one another as you attempted to piece each clue together resentfully, Benoit felt heat rise under his collar. The nude tights you were wearing are perfect, sheen delicate beneath the faux-candelabra light fixtures. There’s not a tear, ladder or hole in sight.

He planned to amend that.

Benoit lifts himself from his seat, skirting the coffee table easily and approaching you with long strides. You momentarily glance up from the clue card in your hand, scowling to yourself as he advances. “So embarrassed with my detective work that you’re retreating to bed, Mr Blanc?”

“On the contrary,” he answers you with a playful lilt to his drawl, slowly sinking to his knees before you, “I intend to stay right here.”

Momentarily, your mind works like an old television with a crooked aerial antenna. Static fizzles between your synapses, and you cannot come up with a retort to Benoit’s cheeky inference.

“Best keep your mind on the case, detective,” he murmurs, palms settling on your ankles and tracing up the sides of your calves, “We wouldn’t want the killer gettin’ away now, would we?”

You swallow thickly, holding the cards with shaking hands as you feel Benoit place a lingering kiss on the inside of your knee. He skirts the tip of his nose up the inside of your thigh, humming softly as he squeezes the meat of your calves in his hands.

Focus. Focus. It couldn’t have been Benoit; he’s rescinded his cards. So, it was one of the Ghost Hands. Blue was suspicious, and you’d already discovered she was carrying a wrench. However, she had a decent alibi… Meanwhile, you had barely anything on Purple.

You roll the dice again, the face showing a two rather than the hand glass you had been hoping for. Gritting your teeth, you attempt to rake over the evidence, only to be interrupted by your vision swimming suddenly.

Benoit’s nose notches against your clit through your tights, his head practically buried beneath the fabric of your skirt. He groans softly, inhaling the scent of your sex. You whimper, the edges of his glasses pressing against the junction of your thigh as he presses a delicate kiss to your slit through your panties.

“Do me a favour, Dear,” he breathes against your thigh, pressing kisses to the nylon fabric. He doesn’t have to state what he wants from you explicitly. Fumbling with clumsy hands, you set the cards down quickly on the armrest and pull the hem of your skirt over your hips to give Benoit better access.

“Much obliged,” he whispers to you, and you can hear the gratuitous smirk playing on his lips. Attempting to ignore him and focus on the cards, you endeavour to read the clue, which is written in plain English. You haven’t yet fully deciphered it, thanks to Benoit’s tinkering.

He has other plans, though, nipping at your skin through the fabric of your tights. You jolt slightly with each bite he gives you, and you can hear him chuckle beneath you.

“Anythin’?” Benoit teases you with a combination of kisses and nibbles trailing up your thigh. It takes a moment for your answer to form on your tongue, toes curling in your heels.

“Mhm- N-Not yet,” you stumble over your words despite your attempt to conceal your evident appreciation for his affections.

“Hmm,” he hums, the rumble in his chest setting your hair on end as he, once again, presses lingering kisses over your panties. “I feel a noose tightenin’.”

Everything inside you freezes, and you’re quick to glance at the miniature weapon icons. The rope lays dead centre of the pile, and you’re forced to reconsider everything. Was Benoit giving you a hint?

Admittedly, you don’t have time to contemplate. As you open your mouth to question him, Benoit sucks on your clit through your panties. Your line of questioning dies in your throat, instead coming out as a strangled ‘Ahhh~’.

As quickly as he offers you the blissful sensation, he’s stealing it away. He pulls back, sitting on his haunches, and you’re blinking back your arousal to see him clearly. “W-Why did you…?”

Benoit hushes you gently with a wicked smile. “I think you should focus on the case.”

Smug bastard.

Filled with the desire for retribution, you cast your eyes back to the clue cards in your hand. They’re slightly creased now due to the tight grip you’re holding them with. You manage to make out the words ‘Name One…’ before a clicking sound pulls your attention away yet again.

The glint of light reflecting off the blade in his hand had your heart seizing. Not in fear, no, but exhilaration. See, Benoit carried the flip knife on his person always. It was less of a weapon for self-defence than a family heirloom, and Benoit never took it out without good reason. Simply asking to see it would not gain you access to the elusive dagger.

Your breath hitches, adrenaline buzzing down your spine.

“Now, hold still,” Benoit insists, impossibly blue eyes gazing up at your face through the lenses of his glasses. You nod quickly, both showing him you are listening and urging him forward with his plan.

You watch as he leans forward, slipping the knife's point into the nylon at your crotch. Utterly motionless, you whimper as your lover pulls the handle upwards and slices through the fragile material with ease.

“Been wantin’ you to keep these fine stockin’s on …” Benoit whispers against your thigh, pressing a kiss to the soft flesh there as he closes the knife with a click and slips it back into his pocket.

“H-Huh?” You tremble beneath his affections, his lips travelling further up the inside of your legs, leaving goosebumps in his wake.

“Case, Detective,” he replies flatly, sliding the pad of his index finger against your slit through the cotton of your panties, “You’re deducin’ a murder weapon— it’s in plain sight.”

“Right,” you nod dumbly, swallowing back your arousal and glancing at the board. The box said the game was suitable for ages eight and up; surely it shouldn’t be this difficult. There had to be evidence you had overlooked. Your notes are settled on the coffee table, and you venture to decipher the evidence as you take up the booklet with trembling hands.

But then Benoit is hooking his finger inside the crotch of your panties, pulling the fabric to the side and exposing your sex. You almost drop the notepad on his head. “How ‘bout you take me through your notes, Dear Detective?”

You would, God, you absolutely would if you could. However, Benoit’s tongue drags against your slit, and your mind goes numb, buzzing as though it has a pins-and-needles sensation. He hums, amusement lilting his voice as he watches you struggle.

Overwhelmed, you completely forget about the game of Cluedo, tilting your head over the back of the chair and sliding your fingers through the greying man’s hair. The notebook falls from your hand, clattering against the wooden floor but you’re already too far gone to care.

Eager to please you further, Benoit is gripping your thighs, lifting them so they settle on his shoulders. The nylon tights rub against his neck this way, and you’re sure it spurs him on because he slides the flat of his tongue over your clit. It jolts your body forward, and that maddening chuckle sounds between your legs again.

“Now, Darlin’,” he croons, and you’re whining due to the lack of friction already, “You be careful. The killer’ll be gettin’ away.”

You choke on an apology, Benoit burying his face into your cunt and sucking at your clit keenly. He’s swirling your clit with the tip of his tongue, one, two, three times, and then dragging over the seam of your sex to lap up your slick.

Not only was the man eloquent, but he was also persuasive with his tongue. Trembling in your seat, you sob out as your muscles tense against it. Your legs twitch against the shoulders of his suit, and you arch your hips up to grind against his face.

“Detective,” he prompts you, and you suck in a breath like you’re coming up for air after being suspended in water. Your eyes roll back, and you try to focus hard on what it is he’s requesting of you.

“Hngg- B-Blue has a go-good alibi—” you let out an obscene whine, the wet noises of his tongue dragging against your soaked pussy diverting you from the task at hand.

“Mhmm?” He hums, and the vibration has you bucking against his face again, sobbing out his name in a broken whimper.

“A-And I’m not sure about Purple!” You squeak out. God, it’s so messy. You’re soaking his face, and you’re sure you can see your slick glossing up his nose and chin. If you stained the seat, you’re not even sure he’d mind; the blues of his eyes engulfed by the black of his pupils.

It’s a wave of pleasure building, teasing at your abdomen and throbbing through you with each pulse of your heart. You inhale deeply, feeling it tease at the edges of your skin. You’re devastated, overpowered by the ecstasy clawing at the base of your spine— you don’t even notice what it is you’re saying.

"I-I-It was the- ohhhh fuck, Benny~" you sob out, tears rolling down your cheeks, “It’s you— Hgnn fuck!-!”

"Hm? Use your words, dear. You're makin' an accusation, you know. Don't want to slip your words now." He’s entertained by your bewilderment, “Especially when the person you’re accusin’ has given you a damn good alibi.”

You’re so far gone that you’re not even embarrassed that you’d just implicated the one person you could be sure wasn’t the killer. Swallowing sobs, you watch as Benoit circles your clit repeatedly with his tongue, eyes staring straight up at you and watching you come apart.

It all happens so fast. Your toes are curling in your shoes as the cramping sensation of your oncoming orgasm takes hold. One of your shoes falls off and clatters to the floor, and Benoit places the flat of his palm against your pubic bone.

“Oh God-!” You choke out, whining as he continues with the devastating pattern he’s drawing. “I’m gonna— Shit, Benny, it’s—“

He’s nodding without removing his mouth from you as though he’s telling you ’I know’. It’s shoving you right off the edge, those beautiful blue eyes blinking slowly and taking in every inch of the image of ecstasy on your face.

It pulses right between your legs, throbbing against his tongue like a pulse. You scream out his name, all of the muscles in your body tensing so hard that you’re cramping. Your vision goes white, and you’re gripping Benoit’s hair so tightly that you’re surprised you don’t rip any out.

You’re suspended for a moment, and then everything melts away, every inch of your body melting against the plush of the seat. Distantly, you recognise the smile against his lips, pressed to your skin.

“… Who was it?” You slur like you’re drunk on the dopamine he’s just overdosed you on. He laughs heartily, and you can’t help but smile with him.

“Blue.”

“Fuck!” You gasp out, palms covering your face and digging your nails into your hairline. As if! “When on earth did you figure that out, Benny?”

He sits back on his knees, pulling the handkerchief from his breast pocket, wiping his chin and nose to remove the slick you had rubbed onto him. “Mhmm… Why, I figured it out the moment you laid out the cards.”

You scoff now, disjointedly sitting up in your chair. The muscles of your arms are like jelly, and you struggle to raise yourself. “Are you that good that you could tell at first glance?”

Again, a smug smile plays at the edge of Benoit’s lips, his eyes flicking up to your face.

“No… I simply saw the cards you drew.”

END

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#benoit blanc #benoit blanc x you #benoit blanc x reader #Benoit blanc x y/n #Benoit blanc x f!reader #benoit blanc imagine #Benoit blanc fanfic #Benoit blanc fanfiction #knives out fanfiction #knives out fanfic #knives out #knives out 2 #glass onion #Daniel Craig

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bonkwosher · 1 year

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Being Benoit Blanc's assistant on a big case headcanons

A/N: Aka being the Watson to Benoit's Sherlock. I'm gonna keep writing headcanons until I have the motivation to write a one-shot. Also x male reader bc Benoit is gay as hell (& I love it)

When you entered Benoit's office for the interview he had to hold back from immediately saying "You're hired." He found himself spacing out a bit, thinking about how adorable you looked when you would ramble about your work history or even just the ride here.

Your first day ended up being the start of a huge case. You thought Benoit was babying you, maybe he was. But he didn't intend to make you feel lesser he got worried with how violent the murder was, so much so that he was afraid you'd get hurt.

When he interviewed each of the family members he had you sit behind him & take notes, making sure to put distance between any possible suspects & you.

The moment the last family member leaves the interview room Benoit turns to you with an excited grin on his face, ready to share theories.

"What do you think about this bunch, Y/N?"

"Hmm, good theory. I didn't think about that one. It's a good thing I have you here, Y/N."

Small note: He loves to say your name, it makes him so happy. Any chance he gets he will use it.

When a fight erupts between the family members he stands in front of you & instinctively grabs your arm/hand.

He ends up ranting to you about being unable to find the "key piece that's missing" & when you lay everything out for him he gets the silly little aha moment.

"Y/N, you did it! Lord, you are so intelligent! How I get so lucky as to work with you?" He yells as he pulls you into a hug, "I'm sorry, I got excited."

"Don't apologize," you pull him right back into a hug & hold him tightly.

You have to point out the dumb clues to him because he is terrible with dumb stuff. It has you absolutely awestruck when he finds some clues though, like solving a puzzle to open a door to a secret room. I swear these things only happen in movies but Benoit manages to find them.

When he pulls a cigar out to smoke, you take it from his mouth & take a breath of smoke. You might not be a smoker but at this rate, you've caught on to him having feelings for you & would kill to see this detective flustered.

Short story, it works.

Long story, he mutters out some southern curses under his breath. He looks up to you as you hand him the cigar back, pink dusting his cheeks & you do your best to repress a smile.

From then on he has a little more pep in his step, constantly telling himself you like him too.

Bonus:

If you do not have a suit Benoit will lend you one of his, you have to look dapper on the job to match your boss.

Bonus points if it's slightly oversized, Benoit would lose his mind.

At that, he's already losing his mind seeing you in his clothes. He has to fight to keep his eyes off you. Whenever your taking notes behind him he finds any opportunity to turn around, look you up & down, & say, "Did you get that, Y/N?" To which, after multiple times you can't help but laugh out of either annoyance or infatuation & breathe out, "Yes, Benoit, I did get that."

If one of the family members or especially suspects takes a jab at you (verbally) he will most definitely go off on them.

A/N: I'm totally going to make a one-shot where the reader gets hurt on the job & Benoit loses his shit!

#benoit blanc #benoit blanc x reader #knives out #glass onion #male reader #gay #lgbt #lgbtq #detective #assistant!reader #benoit blanc x you #benoit blanc x y/n #silly little gay detective #netflix

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rues-daya · 1 year

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Madelyn Cline looking absolutely stunning in Givenchy’s Pre-Fall 2023 dress while attending the Critics Choice Awards! 🖤

*manifesting that her and Zendaya will meet!*

#madelyncline #sarah cameron #madelyn cline #givenchy #critics choice awards #whiskey #glass onion #knives out #obx #outer banks #netlfix #maddie cline #madelyn cline x reader #madelyn cline x y/n #madelyn cline x you #madelyn cline fluff #madelyn cline imagine #madelynclineedit

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donutholehole · 1 year

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A Murder, A Nurse, A Case.[B.Blanc/Reader]

Part 1 of A Murder and A Motive

Summary: World’s greatest Detective and his second pair of eyes take on a difficult murder case of secrecy, disguise and revenge.

Pairing: Benoit Blanc [Knives out]/Reader. He/Him pronouns used.

Warnings: Descriptions of death, blood and wounds, abandonment.

Word Count: 1,946

Note: I am aware Benoit Blanc is canonically married but I am ignoring Hugh Grant in this story (rare for me - Paddington 2 is one of my favourite films because of him). Also! I am very not American so if words are off and it ruins the immersion, very sorry!

Not my gif!!

It was a remote farmhouse, far from any major roads and cities. Surrounded by seemingly endless fields and woods, though you could detect a small town nearby from the road signs. Usually, you would never notice a house like this. You would typically drive passed, but with the addition of four police cars, an ambulance, and P.I.‘s on the property, it was hard to ignore. It was a beautiful house still, architecturally stunning.

A chubby, older woman sat on the doorsteps of the house, unable to compose herself though police attempted to calm her. You closed the door to Blanc’s car and took in the stunning scenery and chaotic atmosphere. Another car pulled up swiftly after you, a young woman rushed out of the vehicle as soon as she stopped it and ran to talk to the police and comfort the woman on the steps.

“Blanc, good to see you.” A cop said. Officer West, she was present during a few cases throughout your time with Blanc. “Y/N…nice to see you again.” She said, a smirk on her face. Blanc had stated many times that she was utterly obsessed with you however you chose to ignore him.

“Officer West.” You nodded, and she nodded in return. You walked towards the house door where the two women sat consoling each other. Both women cried now.

“This is Marlene Edwards, James Lee’s primary nurse. She contacted us and told us of his death when she arrived this morning. This is Joanna Lee, the victim's only living relative.” Officer West introduced you to the women, who were obviously beside themselves but staying strong. Marlene Edwards was in her late 60's, she had her dark hair in a neat bun and wore her scrubs just as she usually would. She had dark circles around her eyes, perhaps from crying, perhaps from being an overworked medical worker. Nonetheless, she looked kind.

The other woman, Joanna Lee, was frankly the opposite. She had long ginger hair, which was in a messy ponytail. Her clothes seemed to be the first she picked out, it was only 7:15 A.M. anyway. Pain lined her tearstained face.

“Pleasure to meet the two of you. I’m Detective Benoit Blanc, and this is my assistant Y/N L/N. Perhaps we go inside and talk to you both?” He asked as he shook their hands. They nodded, opening the door and guiding you both through the house.

The house was even more beautiful inside. Each wall was an aged brown with lightly gold details on each corner, and the floor was a dark wood that had a slight creak in some places. It was traditional, simple but not too simple, and obviously an inherited home.

The two women sat in the lounge together, and you sat opposite them with Blanc. The couches were made of dark leather with sage green feather pillows. You enjoyed noticing the small details of the locations of murders, it showed some repeating patterns.

“Now, Marlene, is it? Tell me, when did you arrive here this morning?” Blanc asked her, the victim's daughter held the older woman’s hand tightly to comfort her. You opened your notepad and took a sleek black pen Blanc had gotten you for your birthday from your pocket.

“6:30 A.M, just like every mornin'.” She managed to choke out, Joanna rubbed her back. You scribbled that down in your notebook.

“What time did you find his body, would you say?” He asked, she took a moment to answer.

“Around 6:55 A.M, I don’t remember. I always spruce the place up a bit, make him a coffee and breakfast before he wakes up, then I give him his medicine.” She replied, thinking particularly hard to remember. "I hit a bookshelf when I went to the phone, it's a mess up there."

You wrote carefully and quickly so as to not miss any information. “And what medications was your patient on?” Blanc inquired. You loved the way he was so meticulous about what questions he asked, when to ask them, everything. He was incredibly talented in his work and took great care of the victim's family and friends.

“Lisinopril, a blood pressure medication. Hydrocodone, a pain medication. He’s diabetic, so I test his blood every 2-3 hours and inject insulin when needed.” She told you, she was cooperating perfectly. You wrote down what she had said.

“How many nurses or caretakers have been here in the passed few days?”

“There’s always 2 of us on sight in a day, Sarah, she comes and takes care of his bathing needs and everything like that around 4:30 P.M. Yesterday there was a trainee nurse, his name was, uh, Clark?” That was intriguing. You’d had some background information on the case beforehand and only two caretakers were noted. Marlene Edwards and Sarah-Jane Matthews.

“Tell me more of this Clark," He leaned forward, clearly compelled by this mysterious character.

"He was a young feller, fresh out of school, maybe late 20's? He said he was new and still partly training to care for the elderly. He showed me his work I.D...I didn't even question he could be lyin'. Oh, sweet Jesus." She covered her mouth and realised it was likely to be him, she couldn't help but blame herself for allowing him into his home.

"Don't blame yourself, love. You couldn't have known." You reassured her, sending her a warm smile before returning to your notepad and writing down a possible suspect.

"Thank you, Mrs Edwards. This information could be crucial. I'd like to speak to Miss. Lee alone if that would be okay?" He informed her, she nodded and scurried out of the room, closing the door behind her.

"I'm sorry for your loss, Miss Lee. I know it is a horrible situation. You’re strong." You prefaced before Blanc could begin. Blanc glared at you and gave you a smile. You took after him in supporting the victim's family members and friends.

“What was your and your father's relationship like?” Blanc asked, she composed herself and thought for a few moments.

“Strong, I’d say. We loved each other and talked every day after I finished work. We’d always have a game of Clue with Marlene and Sarah when I was there, I bet you’re really good at that game.” She laughed slightly, reminiscing on good times with her father.

“He’s terrible.” You mimed at her, and she smiled at that. Talking to people casually was a psychological trick you’d picked up. You used standard English, made jokes when acceptable and spoke to them like you would a friend. They open up and become more comfortable talking.

“Your mother, is sh-” Benoit began before he was cut off my Joanna.

“Margaret Lee. She died when I was 14. Car accident. It took a real toll on Dad. He had Survivor’s Guilt since that day. Always blaming himself. It hurt to watch. He was on Antidepressants for 3 years,” She said. She looked down at her hands for a moment. You sent her an empathetic look, your head bowed down and your eyes closed.

"That must've been very difficult," Blanc said. "Y/N, would you investigate that Trainee Nurse while I talk to Miss Lee?" He asked, you nodded, standing from the couch.

"It was lovely to meet you, Joanna. You're powerful." You shook the woman's hand before she left and gave her kind eyes. You wandered through the house, taking time to indulge in your surroundings. Though the gruesome smell of death lingered through the house, you doubted it was unfamiliar to it. It was aged, and the paint on the walls chipped away from where furniture and frames once were. You saw Officer West and headed towards her.

"Y/N! You alright?" She turned around quickly, two cups of coffee in her hand. "Here, I know it's cold out." She handed you one.

"Thank you. We need to get in contact with whoever is distributing carers here. We have a suspect." You ordered, she gasped slightly. "Clark, no other details other than a young, late 20’s, trainee nurse. He was here yesterday."

"I will get that info for you!"

After 10 minutes of waiting by the door, the tips of your fingers turning blue, Officer West approached you. "There is a Clark, trainee nurse, but he's 45. He was reported in an old folks home yesterday. But get this, when asked, he couldn't find his I.D.!" She told you enthusiastically with a smile. You smiled and nodded.

"Thank you, Officer." You stormed inside, finally feeling warmth against your skin again. "Blanc!" You yelled towards the lounge room, which he was already leaving. "Bad news, the Clark that Mrs Edwards described isn't registered. But, the real Clark is a 45-year-old man whose I.D. is absent from his person. It was stolen."

"My, so we're on a hunt for an unknown individual?" He questioned, you took a pause before nodding uncomfortably. "No leads, nothing."

"Well, we haven't snooped around yet. That's my favourite part," You smiled, walking back towards the stairs. "Shall we?" You raised your hand as you stepped onto the first step. Blanc looked down at your hand and laughed, not taking your hand but walking up the stairs with you still.

"We're not snoopin', Y/N. We're looking for evidence," He reminded you, shooting you disapproving, teasing eyes.

"We're kinda snooping," You mumbled before getting to the upper floor. It was a slight mess, with books scattered across the floor from when Marlene ran to the phone. You kicked some out of the way to make a clear path. You knew which room was James Lee's. The metallic stench of recently shed blood and the linger of death surrounded the doorway. You entered the room.

His sheets were still painted with his blood. You couldn't help but uncomfortably cover your mouth at the horrific sight. It was clear the killer wasn't well-skilled. The walls and floor were splattered with blood. It was a horrific sight to witness. "My lord, they really wanted him dead," You heard Blanc mutter under his breath.

"Seems so. Get to looking," You ordered him, you weren't usually as clear and demanding to Blanc, but after seeing this you couldn't help but be angry.

"I thought I gave orders," He huffed before he put a pair of gloves on. You followed after him and began the search for something, anything that gave you enough evidence to have a lead.

You found nothing. There were pictures of his family, vacations, books, empty medicine bottles, clothes. That was typical for any room, you didn't doubt that they were there well before the murder had occurred. You looked at high shelves when you noticed a camera.

It was old. Clearly a valuable item for display only. You picked it carefully from its place. You coughed as dust entered your throat. Checking if it had film, you were met with nothing. You sighed, placing it back on the shelf.

A case. There was a case hidden behind the camera. It was sleek and untouched for many years, covered in dust. As Blanc searched under the bed. You slowly opened it. "Blanc. Look." He raised his head from under the bed.

"What? What've you got?" He asked, hitting his head as he tried to get from under the bed and yelping. Once he'd composed himself and stood, he dusted himself off and looked at the case. "Joanna's baby book? That's all? Did your parents not do that?" He asked. It was a small book, with a photo of a newborn baby on the front with the name Joanna Haf Lee written on the front in gold lettering.

"Blanc, there's two."

Part 2 <-

#benoit blanc #benoit blanc x reader #benoit blanc x y/n #benoit blanc x you #daniel craig #knives out #knives out glass onion #knives out 2 #glass onion #rian johnson #knives out fanfiction #knives out x reader

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