#benoit blanc x you

[bits-and-babs]

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

Taglist 🏷️: @hoeneey @howaboutcastiel @welcometostayingawake @syrma-sensei @ethanhoewke @polaroidpetal @foxilayde @bookfrog242 @wh0reforbucknasty @zakizigekwe @ahookedheroespureheart @buckys-other-punk @anxious-sappho @alexloveskili @captainrexstan @astroboots @knights-power @southcrnbelle @niallsbunny @ofmortems @hold-our-destiny @xcatnapsx @vermillionwinter @stormkobra-5 @erenbissexual @alwritey-aphrodite @maggotzombie @deadpige0n @bakerstreethound @whatthehekko @cottagebunny9 @bit-dodgy-innit @peachyproserpina @inklore

#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

[bonkwosher]

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

[donutholehole]

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

[starryevermore]

Hey I’m a new knives out/glass onion/Benoit blanc enthusiast and I noticed your requests were open. I was thinking about Benoit being very easily flustered around his s/o (always blushing, being at loss of word) and maybe how others around him react to THE Benoit blanc just turning into mush whenever his little human is around 🙃 you can do whatever you want with that, I just thought it was a fun idea

lovestruck detective ✧ benoit blanc

angst city™ library | send in a request (consult request faqs first)

request: Hey I’m a new knives out/glass onion/Benoit blanc enthusiast and I noticed your requests were open. I was thinking about Benoit being very easily flustered around his s/o (always blushing, being at loss of word) and maybe how others around him react to THE Benoit blanc just turning into mush whenever his little human is around 🙃 you can do whatever you want with that, I just thought it was a fun idea  - anon

pairing: benoit blanc x male!reader

word count: 457

warnings?: fluff, not proofread

it was almost comical, how flustered blanc got around you. how the usually calm, collected man would trip over his words. how his face would burn red. how he’d forget what he was doing the moment he laid eyes on you. 

in your not-so-humble opinion, that was the true marker of someone being in love. your mother had always told you, don’t trust a man who’s suave and can sweet-talk you into anything. those kind of men don’t care about you. those kind of men only care about what you’ll for them. no, no, she’d say, fall for the man who’ll trip over their own feet when they see you. fall for the man who can’t think straight because you occupy his mind. fall for the man who’d move the heavens and the earth just to see you smile.

when you first met blanc, it was at some stuffy party. a friend of his invited him, apparently in an effort to get the stoic man to lighten up a little. you had gone to network. both of you ended up bored out of your minds at the open bar. you caught his eye as you flagged down a bartender. he spilled his bourbon straight down his shirt. you laughed so hard you snorted. that night, you left with his number and a promise that he wouldn’t make another mess like that again. 

except, well, he did. he took you out to dinner, a real nice restaurant with a menu of foods you could hardly fathom the pronunciation of. he offered to order something for you, and you agreed. but when the waiter came, blanc was too busy staring at you to notice. when he finally did order, he stammered his entire way through until he was red in the face. he was so flustered that, when the food arrived, he ended up dropping his entire plate on his lap. you still didn’t understand how he managed to do that. 

people hardly understood how a man like benoit blanc could get so tongue-tied and starry-eyed around you. they’d always comment to you that he wasn’t what they expected. that they expected someone like james bond or batman. someone who didn’t let their feelings show very often. and, to be honest, that was usually true. blanc wouldn’t have the career he did if he wore his heart on his sleeve. but you brought out a side of him that he couldn’t hide—that he didn’t want to hide. 

so, yeah, blanc became something of a lovestruck full around you. he’d turn completely to mush the second he was with you. but you loved every second. because you’d be lying if you said you weren’t the exact same around him. 

#benoit blanc x y/n #benoit blanc x male!reader #benoit blanc imagine #benoit blanc x you #benoit blanc x reader #benoit blanc fan fiction #benoit blanc fanfiction #benoit blanc fic #benoit blanc fanfic #starrywrites #starryevermore

[miercoooles]

I’m back to my Daniel Craig phase and I’m itching to write a fluff where the reader forces either Benoit Blanc or James Bond to unwind and go on a picnic date under a tree while viewing the sunset then just watch the stars like the hopeless romantic I am.

#james bond x reader #james bond imagines #benoit blanc fanfic #benoit blanc x you #benoit blanc imagines #benoit blanc x reader #james bond x you #007 james bond #james bond x y/n #benoit blanc x y/n #reader insert #fanfiction

[youvebeenlivingfictional]

How about Benoit Blanc and #23! ♥️

Sure thing dearie :D

Prompt:

“It’s hard to get used to…”

“What is?”

“Being someone that someone cares for…”

Warnings: Light angst; implied age gap; fluuuuuuuffy fluff

You only feel it sometimes. It tends to creep up when someone working a new case—some local reporter or some police lieutenant hits on you. Benoit always smiles his way through it, is polite as polite can be. But in your time with Benoit, you've learned to read his discomfort—the slight flexing of his fingers in whatever he's holding—a cigar, a notebook, the collar of his jacket; the way his smile tightens at his gaze grows a little dark in defense.

He always brushes it off, insisting stalwartly on focusing on the case. This time, though, it seems to have been hanging over his head all day. You should be sorting through files now, but you watch him instead, taking in the hunch of his shoulders as he reads in the dim light of the motel room's desk lamp.

You half-heartedly shuffle a folder when Benoit tips his head back in your direction.

"What is goin' on back there?" He asks.

"What's going on over there?" You counter.

That makes Benoit turn fully to look at you, his brow furrowed over his reading glasses.

"What do you mean?"

You slide off of the bed, taking slow, cautious steps toward him. Benoit pushes his chair back without question or urging, and you lower yourself sit on his lap. His arms loop about your middle to steady you; one of your own raises to rest around his shoulders.

"You seemed...Distracted at the police station."

"Did I?"

"Mm. After Bennerman talked to me."

Benoit's expression flickers in a split-second, but it's enough for you to know that you've hit on the heart of the matter. You sigh softly, running your fingers through the hair at his nape.

"It's not the first time, either, Benoit. What is it?"

Benoit swallows thickly, lowering his head and eyeing the files on the desk.

"I am...Adjusting," He says.

"How so?"

"It’s hard to get used to."

“What is?”

Benoit seems to steel himself before saying, “Being someone that someone cares for."

You're stunned at the admission, and he tips his chin up, sweeping your face.

"You know I'm nuts about you, honey bee," He adds, raising a hand to sweep his knuckles across your cheek. "And you, you could have anyone you wanted."

"I want you," You insist, shaking your head. "I always want you—I don't give a wit what those other men think—"

"I know, I know."

"Benoit," You insist, shifting to face him more fully and cupping his cheeks, "When you're in the room, you're all I look at. When you're gone, you're all I think about. You must know that."

"...Explains your shoddy detective work," He teases, a pleased smile curling up his lips. You huff out a stunned laugh, and before you can pull away, Benoit tugs you in for a kiss. You sigh softly at the tender, pliant press of your lips, nudging your nose against his as you lean back.

"I love, Benoit."

"And I, you, honey bee."

#Benoit Blanc x Reader #Benoit Blanc x You #asks #replies #requests #prompts

[jjsmaybank20]

𝕄𝕚𝕤𝕔. 𝕄𝕒𝕤𝕥𝕖𝕣𝕝𝕚𝕤𝕥

✰ - Personal Favorite ✎ - Most inspired for rn

The Fallout (2022)

Vada Cavell ✎

nothing yet

Mia Reed

1. Anxiety [angst, fluff]

Pitch Perfect 1, 2, and 3 (2012, 2015, 2017)

Beca Mitchell

nothing yet

Chloe Beale

nothing yet

Emily Junk

nothing yet

Knives Out (2019) + Glass Onion (2022)

Whiskey

nothing yet

1. Speechless [fluff] ✰

Marta Cabrera

nothing yet

1. Always and Forever [fluff]

Benoit Blanc (Platonic Only)

nothing yet

Free Guy (2021)

Millie Rusk

nothing yet

Walter ‘Keys’ McKey (Platonic Only)

nothing yet

#astrid leong x reader #astrid leong x you #astrid leong x y/n #whiskey x reader #whiskey x you #whiskey x y/n #marta cabrera x reader #marta cabrera x you #marta cabrera x y/n #meg thrombey x reader #meg thrombey x you #meg thrombey x y/n #benoit blanc x reader #benoit blanc x you #benoit blanc x y/n #millie rusk x reader #millie rusk x you #millie rusk x y/n #walter mckey x reader #walter mckey x you #walter mckey x y/n #keys mckey x reader #keys mckey x you #keys mckey x y/n

[ilongfor-the-arts]

Knives Out Masterlist

Benoit Blanc

#benoit blanc #benoit blanc x reader #benoit blanc x you #knives out #knives out masterlist

[jay-wasstuff]

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

[sonyapaxtonapologist]

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

[finleycannotdraw]

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

[bachaboska]

The Detective's Husband (Phillip/Benoit Blanc) - Made for FTH 2023

#Phillip/Benoit Blanc #benoit x phillip #knives out #glass onion #hugh grant #daniel craig #my stuff #fth 2023 #benoit blanc #making videos when you are deeply unhappy and stressed is not the best idea

[bonkwosher]

Drunk Benoit Blanc Headcanons

GIF By: my-sleepy-mind-in-the-stars

Warnings: Characters being drunk, very little suggestive content

Inspired By: @jasminesfury "Drunk Prompts"

Drunk Benoit Blanc Headcanons

Warnings: Characters being drunk, very little suggestive content

Heavily Drunk Benoit (Once in a blue moon)

Benoit Blanc is totally a loud & proud affectionate drunk. On the rare occasion, he gets really drunk at a get-together you have to stop him from sharing classified case information.

"Now the police think that it's Madelyn, but I KNOW-" "Benoit!" you shout, standing right next to him with his arm wrapped around your waist. "Did someone call my name?"

When he's not rambling to his close friends about his career he is holding you tight & letting you & everyone in the city know how great of a partner you are.

"Marta! Marta, did you meet my boyfriendddddd?" Benoit drags his words & pulls your back to his chest & chuckles. "Benoit you sound like a schoolgirl." "I have met Y/N, you introduced me to them earlier."

When you sit at the dinner table (Benoit would never allow himself to get this drunk in public, gotta protect his image) among all your friends, Benoit keeps a hand rested on your thigh. Occasionally he'll give you a big squeeze & quickly turn his head to you, wearing the most childish, smug grin.

Within twenty seconds of being left by himself he'll have a group of people surrounding him, listening to him ramble like toddlers at story time. It's not the most coherent thing but you can't say it isn't adorable.

When he notices you're watching he points at you & yells "There he is! Y/N helped me solve this case actually, come here, come tell them how amazing you are!"

Benoit returns his arm to its place around your hips & pulls you close, you quickly take whatever alcohol he got into while you were away. Humoring him, you continue his story where you were a fresh pair of eyes on his case.

As soon as you leave the party Benoit crashes & becomes super cuddly. You have to practically drag him to the bedroom & throw him on the bed. You climb in next to him & he spoons you, murmuring random praises.

Buzzed Benoit

That being the extreme, the usual is the two of you sharing a glass of wine after he successfully solves a case. Sometimes he'll be so caught up in the idea of celebrating with you that he forgets to tell you he's coming home.

Benoit knocks on your shared home's front door, managing to surprise you every time with a glass of wine from wherever his case was & a travel bag in hand. After sharing loving embraces Benoit turns on some classical music & pops open the bottle of wine, pouring you each a glass.

"Tell me everything!" makes his lips curl into a huge smile.

A couple glasses in & deep down the rabbit hole that was his case, the feeling of finally being home again sets in. His smile softens & he looks down to your hands, that rest on the table as you lean in to listen to his wonderful rambling.

"Benoit, are you okay?"

He doesn't respond, simply getting up & offering you his hand. You take it & he pulls you into a wordless waltz, the both of you just enjoying each other's presence.

As you pull away from each other, much to both of your chagrin, Benoit peacefully states, "I'm absolutely wonderful, Y/N."

#Benoit Blannc #Daniel Craig #Benoit Blanc x Reader #Benoit Blanc x You #Knives Out #Glass Onion #Knives Out x Reader #Glass Onion x Reader #Daniel Craig x Reader #Male Reader #Headcanons #Drunk Character #Mystery #Netflix #Gay Reader #Silly little gay detective

[starryevermore]

sweet memories ✧ benoit blanc

angst city™ library | send in a request (consult request faqs first)

request: Either 3 separate ideas or all together into one: (for Knives out/Glass onion. Any character but probs best for detective Blanc)

● Getting drunk/tipsy and reminiscing their time in their training 

● Blanc (?) and reader on a case and one of them gets severely hurt and it’s a choice of whether they continue to chase suspect or help the other 

● one of them trying to re-enact what theoretically could have happened on a case, person b paying no attention to this, and suddenly person A is in front of them trying different death methods. Someone walking in and being horrified. Person B saying sorry, person A saying it’s normal. - anon

pairing: benoit blanc x male!reader

summary: you and benoit reminisce on your relationship. 

word count: 1,613

warnings?: minor spoilers for glass onion, maybe slightly out of character benoit, established relationship, fluff, gunshot wound, mention of murder, not proofread

Benoit Blanc had not changed much since you had last seen him, you mused. Still had his beautiful, piercing blue eyes. Still had a brain that run a million miles a minute. Still managed to impress you with every single thing he does. It was almost unfair, how perfect the man sitting across from you was. At least he had one fault that you knew of. At least you could still pull out the fact that you’ve beat him at every single game of Clue you played against him. He always hated when you did that, arguing that he wasn’t good at dumb games so it wasn’t fair to keep holding that over his head. But with that sparkling twinkle in his eyes, you knew he didn’t really mean it. Benoit was a teasing man—around you, at least. To the rest of the world, he was the world’s greatest detective. But to you, he was ole Benny, an awkward fella who was a far shout from the greatest at anything. 

“Ain’t seen you in a while,” he said, looking at you over the rim of his glass as he took a long sip of his drink. He set the glass down, smacking his lips. “You solve any good mysteries lately?”

“Nothing as great as you,” you said. “I mean, showing the world that Miles Brown is a complete nitwit? You’re really taking that whole eat-the-rich thing to heart.”

Benoit waved you off, shaking his head. “It was dumber than a game of Clue. Man didn’t even have the ability to come up with an original murder. Stole all his ideas from everyone.”

“Well, look on the bright side. At least you finally won a game of Clue,” you teased, leaning forward, resting your elbows on the table. “Never thought I’d see the day. Someone should put that in the history books, you know. Benoit Blanc: World’s Greatest Detective, Bested by Clue Except for that One Time.”

“That’s a terrible title for a book. Nobody’d pick it up.”

“I would.”

“Probably ‘cause you’d be the one writin’ it.”

You hummed, taking a sip of your drink. “Someone’s gotta expose you as the dork you truly are. Everyone acts like you’re some James Bond type o’ figure. They deserve to know you’re more of…I don’t know. Who’s the silliest character you can think of?”

Benoit hummed. “Clark Kent?”

“I said silliest character, not the character you’ve got the hots for!” you laughed. 

“Oh, come on! The whole glasses disguise? Seriously? No one ever thought, hey this guy looks kinda sorta similar to Superman? I refuse to believe that!”

“Not everyone is as brilliant as you, Benny boy,” you said. You took another sip of your drink. “God, I hate Superman. Remember that one time, when we were working a case together? The jewelry heist case?”

Benoit’s face turned red. He probably didn’t like thinking of that case very much. You couldn’t blame him, if you were being honest. You didn’t like to think of it, either. “You know I could never forget that case.”

“All I really remember of it is bein’ in the hospital. They had stupid Superman movie playing all the time. Man of Steel, or somethin’? I used to like it before, but god, a guy can only watch that shit so many times before it gets annoyin’. I swear, if I see Henry Cavill put on that super suit again, it’d be too soon.”

“I’d prefer to remember it as the day I realized I love you,” Benoit said. 

You let out a laugh. “What, it took me being on my death bed to realize you loved me?”

It had been a complete and utter disaster. It wasn’t often that you and Benoit worked together on a case. But this was a tough nut to crack, so Benoit invited you along, telling the client that if she wanted the case to be solved, it was imperative you be there, too. The client hadn’t really been willing, but recognized she had no real choice in the matter so she bit her tongue. After all, she wanted to make sure she was not the victim in the jewelry heist. 

Things had gone well enough, if you were being honest. After a few false starts and some misleading clues, you and Benoit were close to triumphant. But neither of you could have expected the suspect to have a gun, much less use it. 

He’d been aiming at Benoit. You panicked, your blood running cold. Before you could even think about what you were doing, you jumped and positioned yourself between Benoit and the bullet. It struck you, lodging itself in your side. You screamed as you fell, hitting the floor, hard. 

Pain practically blinded you as you reached up, touching your wound. When you pulled your hand away, it was sticky with blood. You lifted your head, seeing Benoit falling to his knees, his hand covering your wound, applying pressure. You twisted your head the best you could, watching as the suspect ran.

“Go,” you whispered. You couldn’t manage to make your voice any louder. Took too much energy. “You’re gonna lose him. We won’t get another chance like this.”

“I can’t lose you,” Benoit said. 

“I’ll be fine, go get him.”

“Don’t make me leave you,” Benoit whispered, leaning over you, his lips ghosting over your forehead. “I love you. I can’t lose you. I love you.”

“It was an emotional moment!” Benoit argued. “It ain’t strange for things to be revealed in times of high stress, you know.”

“I know,” you said. You reached over, grabbing his hand, giving it a squeeze. “I just hate that it took you so long. To think we might have gotten together a lot sooner if I told you I loved you when I realized.”

Benoit let out a laugh so loud it practically shook the walls of the kitchen. “Oh, come on. At least when I realized, it had a sort of morbid romantic edge. Yours was just me being an idiot!”

“Well, I love when you’re an idiot.”

It was the early days in your friendship. You and Benoit had often worked together back then, honing your detective skills, bouncing ideas off each other. It felt less like a job that way. It felt more like playing a game of Clue (despite Benny’s aversion to the game). In any case, it was more fun that way. Plus, it gave you and Benoit a chance to develop some more unconventional methods of solving cases. Which is exactly what you were doing. 

You and Benoit were working out how the victim may have died. You had narrowed down to a few different murder weapons that might have been it, but you and Benoit couldn’t quite figure out how it had happened. So, it was only natural that the two of you ran through some different scenarios in an effort to narrow some the possibilities. 

That was how you ended up straddling Benoit, who laid on his back on the floor, his hands above his head as if he were surrendering. Your breath caught in your throat at the position. You liked it—you like it a lot. But you forced yourself to ignore the thought about what it may be like if you were in this same position with a little less clothes. You had to remain professional. You had to. 

You raised your hand holding the prop knife, acting like you were going to drive it through Benoit’s chest. As you brought it down, the fake blade pushing itself into the handle, you frowned. This didn’t make sense. The victim had been fighting back, and this position didn’t give much opportunity to do it. “No, I don’t think it was like this. Here, trade places with me.”

You lifted yourself off of Benoit and laid on the floor. Benoit straddled you now. Your breath hitched as he reached down, his hands closing around your throat. 

“The victim had injuries on her hands, like someone’d been tryin’ to pry her hands off of ‘em,” Benoit said. 

“When the killer couldn’t do that, they kneed her in the stomach,” you continued, bring your leg up, pressing your knee into Benoit’s stomach. 

“And then—”

The door opened. There was a shout. Benoit lifted his head, his face tinted red as he looked at the person who walked inside. 

“Oh, god!” the person said. It was your client. Fuck. “I’m so sorry! I didn’t mean t-to see anything!”

“Oh, it’s not like that!” Benoit said. “We’re just tryin’ to act out the murder!”

You cleared your throat, trying to twist your head to look at her. “Totally normal. All the professionals do it.”

“I-I’ll leave you it then…”

She left as quick as she came, shutting the door behind you. As you and Benoit looked at each other again, you felt like your face was burning. 

“Um, so that seems like it was the way it happened…” you mumbled. 

“Right, right,” Benoit said, getting off of you. “Uh, with that done, we should start narrowing down the suspects, then.”

You nodded. “Yeah. Just give me a moment and I’ll be ready.”

Because, holy fuck, how could you be in a position like this and just expect to continue on as normal? 

“If you love your idiot so much then, how ‘bout you join me in the bath, then?” Benoit asked. “Gets a bit lonely in there, you know.”

Your snorted. “Fine. But we’re not staying there for a week, alright?”

“I’m sure I could convince you otherwise.”

“We’ll see.”

Oh, how you loved your silly little detective. 

#benoit blanc imagine #benoit blanc x reader #benoit blanc x male!reader #benoit blanc x you #benoit blanc x y/n #benoit blanc fic #benoit blanc fanfiction #benoit blanc fan fiction #benoit blanc fanfic #benoit blanc fan fic #starrywrites #starryevermore

[juniperandthistle]

Phillip at 2 am after being woken up by Blanc finally calling home from his trip in Greece to explain all the bullshit he had gone through

#glass onion #glass onion spoilers #glass onion a knives out mystery #benoit blanc #phillip blanc #knives out #benoit x phillip #the call ends with phillip standing in the kitchen drinking coffee because there is no way he is going back to sleep after #benoit realizes early on in the call the time difference and wants to hang up but phillip wants to know what happened #they totally say love you dear before hanging up the phone #mine

[runawaymun]

For the ship graph ask, finwe/Indis, Caranthir/haleth, tyelpe/ignoring common sense and everyone’s advice (silvergifting), Celrond, glorestor plus Lindir, annnnnndddd faramir/eowyn

Any of them you like :) thanks :)

Finwë/Indis:

They’re a canon ship but I’m very meh on them. I don’t think about them all that often except for how their relationship affected Fëanor tbh

Caranthir/Haleth & Farawyn:

Casual enjoyer!!! I always love seeing content for them both and also like making it myself, but neither of them are ships that make me go especially feral. I just think they’re neat.

Glorestor + Lindir

I could see why people ship it and I’ve even read a fic for them and enjoyed it, but it’s not for me. I tend to think of Lindir as being pretty head over heels for Elrond.

Celrond:

WAUGH

The otp to end all otps forreal. 😭❤️😭 I am cradling them gently in my hands I am putting them in a centrifuge they are constantly spinning in my head like a roast chicken on a power drill I love them I love them I love them—

And silvergifting answered here 🥰

#thank you! #Finwë x Indis #glorestor x Lindir ot3 #Faramir x Eowyn #Caranthir x Haleth #celrond #Benoit blanc alignment chart shipping game