#knives out x reader

[untilnextchapter]

Monthly Fanfictions Recommandation: October'23

Here are my best discoveries from the last weeks:

🍬 The Authors

@astonishment : First thing first, I love this Author so much. Mal is so sweet and always there to answer to Anon and followers. If you have any question or thought, don't hesitate to tell. About the stories, you will love them. Even if all stories aren't my thing (I love your writing sweetie but Time Turner is really not my thing), You're Losing Me is a masterpiece, like really. I can't stop reading it and your style is just so sweet and fluid. It's always a pleasure to read from you. Keep on the hard work, and really don't hesitate to check this amazing Human Being.

@astrophileous : You're looking for a great and unique Criminal Minds writer? I think you would enjoy Zara. She's so sweet and adorable. And her story Love Bugs is so sweet. It's pretty rare to find good Derek Morgan stories, and even more series. Gosh I love you and your writing style so much. And you're always so quick to reply and tag your fans.

@secretswiftymarvelfan : Okay, so I discovered I'm just so weak for Chris Evans and his characters (as I'm writing this I'm watching "Knives Out", again). And with this blog and author, my thirst is satisfied. I haven't read all your works, there're so much of them (bless you). Your style is pure and it's always a pleasure to read anything from you. You write with your heart and thank you for sharing it with us!

@once-upon-an-imagine : Ooookay, here we are. As we do say in French, c'est mon petit bonbon! My new comfort blog and author. I love them. I could spend hours to read Harry Potter stories, I won't be able to share all my favourite because I loved every single one I read. It's just perfect, one shots like series. I wish I could have more breaks to read more from them. If you love Harry Potter, Marauders Era like Golden Era, you won't be disappointed I promise you! Thank you for sharing you stories with us, it's always a pleasure!

@pagesoflauren : Lauren is a wonderful author. Hear me out, her writing is flawless and her ideas are really original. I could spend hours on this blog too. Another wonderful temple of Chris Evans characters. I won't say a lot, just go and check her amazing works and tell her how brillant she is. Like really.

@supernatural-jackles : My Supernatural daily dose~ My lastest Supernatural discovery and I wasn't disappointed. Much more stories for Dean but the Sam ones were cute too. I melt with "Fake Yours". My God. It was perfect. Like really. And mostly, if you just want a little Dean one shot, just go check Jen's masterlist, you will have a good time.

🍭 The Stories

* = Smut (Minors DNI) || 🦋 = Series || Beware of the TW please

You’re Losing Me 🦋 || @astonishment (J𝖺𝗆𝖾𝗌 P𝗈𝗍𝗍𝖾𝗋 𝗑 R𝖾𝖺𝖽𝖾𝗋, R𝖾𝗆𝗎𝗌 L𝗎𝗉𝗂𝗇 𝗑 R𝖾𝖺𝖽𝖾𝗋, Hanahaki AU, 𝖸𝗈𝗎 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝖩𝖺𝗆𝖾𝗌 𝖯𝗈𝗍𝗍𝖾𝗋 𝗁𝖺𝗏𝖾 𝖺 𝖿𝗋𝗂𝖾𝗇𝖽𝗌𝗁𝗂𝗉 𝗅𝗂𝗄𝖾 𝗇𝗈 𝗈𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗋, 𝗐𝗂𝗍𝗁 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗆𝗈𝗌𝗍 𝗎𝗇𝖻𝗋𝖾𝖺𝗄𝖺𝖻𝗅𝖾 𝖻𝗈𝗇𝖽…𝗈𝗋 𝗌𝗈 𝖾𝗏𝖾𝗋𝗒𝗈𝗇𝖾 𝗍𝗁𝗈𝗎𝗀𝗁𝗍. 𝖶𝗁𝖾𝗇 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗀𝖾𝗍 𝗁𝖺𝗇𝖺𝗁𝖺𝗄𝗂, 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗌𝗍𝖺𝗋𝗍 𝗉𝗎𝗅𝗅𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝖺𝗐𝖺𝗒 𝖿𝗋𝗈𝗆 𝖩𝖺𝗆𝖾𝗌 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗇𝗈 𝗆𝖺𝗍𝗍𝖾𝗋 𝗁𝗈𝗐 𝗁𝖺𝗋𝖽 𝗁𝖾 𝗍𝗋𝗂𝖾𝗌, 𝗁𝖾 𝖼𝖺𝗇’𝗍 𝗌𝖾𝖾𝗆 𝗍𝗈 𝖽𝗈 𝖺𝗇𝗒𝗍𝗁𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗋𝗂𝗀𝗁𝗍. 𝖶𝗂𝗍𝗁 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝖿𝗋𝗂𝖾𝗇𝖽𝗌𝗁𝗂𝗉 𝖻𝖾𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗉𝗎𝗍 𝗍𝗈 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗎𝗅𝗍𝗂𝗆𝖺𝗍𝖾 𝗍𝖾𝗌𝗍, 𝗐𝗂𝗅𝗅 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝖿𝗂𝗇𝖽 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝗐𝖺𝗒 𝖻𝖺𝖼𝗄 𝗍𝗈 𝖾𝖺𝖼𝗁 𝗈𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗋? 𝖮𝗋 𝗐𝗂𝗅𝗅 𝖩𝖺𝗆𝖾𝗌 𝗅𝗈𝗌𝖾 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝖿𝗈𝗋 𝗀𝗈𝗈𝖽?)

Why Didn’t We Work Out? || @/astonishment (James Potter x Reader, 𝘑𝘢𝘮𝘦𝘴 𝘗𝘰𝘵𝘵𝘦𝘳 𝘩𝘢𝘥 𝘵𝘸𝘰 𝘨𝘪𝘳𝘭𝘧𝘳𝘪𝘦𝘯𝘥𝘴 𝘪𝘯 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘴𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘩 𝘺𝘦𝘢𝘳 𝘢𝘵 𝘏𝘰𝘨𝘸𝘢𝘳𝘵𝘴. 𝘠/𝘕 𝘠/𝘓/𝘕, 𝘸𝘩𝘰 𝘩𝘦 𝘥𝘢𝘵𝘦𝘥 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘧𝘪𝘷𝘦 𝘮𝘰𝘯𝘵𝘩𝘴; 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘓𝘪𝘭𝘺 𝘌𝘷𝘢𝘯𝘴, 𝘸𝘩𝘰 𝘩𝘦 𝘥𝘢𝘵𝘦𝘥 𝘢𝘧𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘸𝘢𝘳𝘥𝘴. 𝘞𝘩𝘦𝘯 𝘩𝘦’𝘴 𝘥𝘢𝘳𝘦𝘥 𝘵𝘰 𝘤𝘢𝘭𝘭 𝘰𝘯𝘦 𝘰𝘧 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘦𝘹𝘦𝘴, 𝘨𝘶𝘦𝘴𝘴 𝘸𝘩𝘰’𝘴 𝘯𝘶𝘮𝘣𝘦𝘳 𝘩𝘦 𝘥𝘪𝘢𝘭𝘴…)

At Arms Length 🦋 || @/astonishment (Remus Lupin x Reader, 𝖸𝗈𝗎 𝗇𝖾𝗏𝖾𝗋 𝗍𝗁𝗈𝗎𝗀𝗁𝗍 𝗒𝗈𝗎’𝖽 𝖿𝗂𝗇𝖽 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋𝗌𝖾𝗅𝖿 𝗆𝖺𝗋𝗋𝗂𝖾𝖽 𝖺𝗍 𝖾𝗂𝗀𝗁𝗍𝖾𝖾𝗇, 𝖻𝗎𝗍 𝗒𝗈𝗎’𝗋𝖾 𝖽𝖾𝗍𝖾𝗋𝗆𝗂𝗇𝖾𝖽 𝗍𝗈 𝗆𝖺𝗄𝖾 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝖻𝖾𝗌𝗍 𝗈𝖿 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗌𝗂𝗍𝗎𝖺𝗍𝗂𝗈𝗇. 𝖸𝗈𝗎 𝗃𝗎𝗌𝗍 𝗁𝗈𝗉𝖾 𝖱𝖾𝗆𝗎𝗌 𝖼𝖺𝗇 𝖿𝗂𝗇𝖽 𝖺 𝗐𝖺𝗒 𝗍𝗈 𝗅𝖾𝗍 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗂𝗇. 𝖠𝖿𝗍𝖾𝗋 𝖺𝗅𝗅, 𝖿𝗈𝗋𝖾𝗏𝖾𝗋’𝗌 𝖺 𝗅𝗈𝗇𝗀 𝗍𝗂𝗆𝖾 𝗐𝗁𝖾𝗇 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝗁𝗎𝗌𝖻𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗄𝖾𝖾𝗉𝗌 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝖺𝗍 𝖺𝗋𝗆𝗌 𝗅𝖾𝗇𝗀𝗍𝗁.)

Love Bugs * 🦋 || @astrophileous (Derek Morgan x Reader, You and Derek Morgan have an arrangement. At work, your relationship is strictly business. Under the sheets, it's all about pleasure. Nothing more, nothing less. Until, of course, your feelings start to get involved. Your situation is complicated enough without the unexpexted predicament that suddenly befalls upon you. But with a maniac serial killer on the loose, will you ever get the chance to make everything right?)

Best Friend’s Brother * 🦋 || @secretswiftymarvelfan (Chris Evans x Reader, You and Scott have been best friends ever since you were 10, meeting at summer camp. Being best friends with Scott means you know his family very well, especially his older brother. After a failed attempt at dating Chris when you were 18, when you move to LA for a job will you and Chris grow close again. What would the world think? and most importantly what would Scott think?)

evermore 🦋 || @/secretswiftymarvelfan (Steve Rogers x Reader, Stuck in a marriage that seems to have dried what happens when you meet a down to earth painter at a party. Will you allow yourself to fall in love even though your heart is promised to another?)

Memory Served * 🦋 || @/secretswiftymarvelfan (Ransom Drysdale x Reader, Following a terrible accident, every memory you ever made was gone leaving you to try to piece together what happened) (Val's note: beware the TW for this one, really well written but ask Niamh if you have any question)

Dear Prudence || @once-upon-an-imagine (Remus Lupin x Potter!Reader, You have always lived in your brother’s shadow. You have never really minded but Remus does. So he always does whatever he can to show you that to him, you will always be number one.)

Some Kind Of Wonderful || @/once-upon-an-imagine (James Potter x Reader, You and James have been friends since you were born. Over the years, the friendship grew to love on your side. However, you know that he only has his eyes and heart set on someone else; Lily Evans.)

What Was I Made For? || @/once-upon-an-imagine (James Potter x Black!Reader, Growing up in your home as a Hufflepuff was even worse than when your older brother was placed in Gryffindor, making your parents not even acknowledge your existence anymore. Or your birthday. So, when James promised to change that, you try to not get your hopes up because you knew he would also forget it. And he does)

Hanging By A Moment 🦋 || @/once-upon-an-imagine (Charlie Weasley x Reader, Your best friend Percy convinces you to go home with him for the holidays and asks you to pretend to be his girlfriend since he’s not out to his family. You accept, wanting to help your friend and thinking it shouldn’t be hard, right? That is until you meet his very much attractive, older brother, Charlie)

Thank You For Loving Me || @/once-upon-an-imagine (Spencer Reid, There were three little words that you and Spencer had yet to say. For five months, the two of you still hadn’t found the right moment to say it. And now, Spencer fears it might be too late)

Ride & Prejudice * 🦋 || @pagesoflauren (Steve Rogers x Reader Cowboy AU, A take on Pride & Prejudice, certain circumstances in your life have led you to take refuge and work in a farm village, particularly on the ranch owned by Steve Rogers. He doesn’t take kindly to you, having bad perceptions about city folk. Your only reaction to that is the one you deem acceptable: get annoyed at every little thing he does whilst doing your best to annoy him and still keep your job)

The Highest Bidder * 🦋 || @/pagesoflauren (Ransom Drysdale x Reader, A graduate-level education is a costly pursuit. When you move out of state to study in Boston, expenses pile up, leading you to auction off what is apparently your most valuable asset: your virginity. It goes to the highest bidder…who happens to be Ransom Drysdale)

Fake Yours * 🦋 || @supernatural-jackles (Dean Winchester x Reader AU, Your brother is getting married to one of your best friends, and you’re the maid of honour. Your horrible mother is on your case about showing up with a date, as you ex, the best man, has moved on. Your only option is to beg the stranger who took you home, to pretend to be your boyfriend until the wedding is over. How much pretending did you really have to do to convince them all it was real?)

Wrong Number * 🦋 || @/supernatural-jackles (Dean Winchester x Reader,  Taking a break from studying, your best friend Jess and her boyfriend Sam give you the number the bartender left for you. You decide to take a chance and give them a call, not expecting who’s number it is)

She’s Quiet and I Love It || @/supernatural-jackles (Sam Winchester x Reader, Sam falls for the quiet reader, she helps patch him up and she finally speaks)

#untilnextchapter #untilnextchapter rec #monthly rec #harry potter x reader #marauders x reader #golden era x reader #james potter #remus lupin x reader #charlie weasley x reader #remus lupin #charlie weasley #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds #derek morgan x reader #derek morgan #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid #knives out x reader #ransom drysdale #ransom drysdale x reader #chris evans x reader #chris evans #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers #supernatural #supernatural x reader #dean winchester #dean winchester x reader #sam winchester x reader #sam winchester

[agent-whiskeys-sweetheart]

Take It Out On Me

Pairing: Ransom Drysdale x Wife!Reader

Summary: After Ransom finds out that he’s been cut from Harlan’s will, you offer to let him take out his frustrations on you. 

Warnings: SMUT, consensual somnophilia (reader leaves a note giving consent), some anal play, rough unprotected sex, facefucking, oral (male receiving), degrading language, mentions of murder. 

A/N: I just got around to watching Knives Out and Ransom totally stole the show for me. I’ve never been much of a Chris Evans girl until this movie. Now I am all in. Hope you enjoy lovelies!

“That’s why I smoke weed!” Fran finishes her story with an obnoxious laugh to which you simply force a smile and nod. As your eyes flick around the room you plot your escape. You suddenly spot Richard and Linda standing across the parlor looking bored. Surely they would offer some safety from this drag of a conversation. 

“Well, it’s always good to chat with you Fran. I’m gonna go bother my in laws for a few.” You add with a chuckle, trying to maintain the humor as you step away. The moment you do you can feel your face drop into a scowl. It would be an understatement to say that you didn’t enjoy spending time with your husband’s family. These were the most disingenuous people you had ever had the displeasure of spending time with. The only reason you put up pretenses was for the sake of your husband and even he didn’t like them all that much.

“Richard. Linda.” You greet them formally. As you do you extend a hand to them which they reluctantly take. It was no secret that they weren’t your number one fans. When Ransom brought you home to meet them it had been awkward to say the least. See, you didn’t come from money like Ransom did. Your family had always been poor. Therefore his parents felt you were “wrong” for him. Snobs. You thanked your lucky stars that Ransom didn’t give a shit what his family thought or else you might never have gotten married.

“How are things, Y/N?” Linda asked with false interest. Before you could answer her half hearted inquiry you were interrupted by the sound of your husband’s booming voice coming from the study. 

“Are you goddamn insane?” Everyone in the room stopped, turning in the direction of the yelling. Shortly after, the door to the study came flying open and you saw Ransom grab his coat and storm for the front door. He was out of the house before you could blink. 

“Well, thank you for a lovely party. Excuse me.” You said to them both before rushing to the front hallway, snatching your coat off the rack, and following your husband out of the house. When you stepped onto the porch Ransom was already in his Beemer, impatiently waiting. You ran down the front steps and flung the car door open, quickly fastening yourself into your seat as he sped out of the driveway. He drove way too fast, completely silent. It wasn’t difficult to tell he was absolutely seething. Ransom had always been prone to anger but whatever his grandfather told him really had him pissed off. 

“Are you gonna tell me what just happened?” 

“No.” He said frankly, gripping the steering wheel tighter. 

“Maybe I should drive.” You suggested. 

“I’ve got it.” He said, brushing off your concern. It felt like it only took half the time it normally did before the two of you were home. Ransom didn’t wait up for you as he made his way inside, leaving you standing outside by yourself. You followed him into the house, dropping off your things in the doorway. When you found him he was sitting on the couch in the living room, bouncing his leg rapidly.

More than anything, you just wanted to make him feel better. You hated seeing him like this. However, you knew he needed time. With a deep sigh you walk over to stand in front of him before leaning down to give his cheek a small peck. As you start to walk away he catches your wrist in his hand, stopping your movements.

"I'm gonna make this right. I promise." You didn't know what he was referring to since you had only caught the tail end of his and Harlan's conversation. However, you knew that he always kept his promises.

"I know you will." You reassure him before walking away, heading back for the bedroom. After his heartfelt words you half expected him to follow you but he didn't. He stayed seated on the couch, folding his hands in his lap. He watched you leave the room. As soon as you were gone, he headed for the front door. It wouldn’t be the first time he had left the house without a word. He was sure that you would hear the door opening and closing but he couldn’t let that stop him. What he had to do next was essential. 

The plan had formulated in his head on the drive home. There was an overwhelming sense of clarity in his mind as he realized what he must do to reverse his grandfather’s actions. He had to, not just for himself but for you. Without that inheritance he wouldn’t be able to keep you in comfort and luxury. Therefore, he was going to do what was necessary to make sure that money ended up in his hands. 

It felt like it took forever for him to arrive at his grandfather’s home. He had parked his car out of sight of the security cameras and hiked up towards the house, making sure to avoid the muddy paths along the way. Everything fell into place like clockwork. When he had finally reached the trellis on the side of the house he scaled it effortlessly, sneaking in through the secret passage in the hall. His grandfather’s study wasn’t far from there. As soon as he stepped inside he searched for Marta’s medical bag. It wasn’t hard to find, as she just left it next to the door. Setting the bag on the floor he rummaged through it to find his grandfather’s medications. This was the easy part. All he had to do was switch the liqiud in each of the bottles and he would be home free. Once he had finished he snuck out back the way he had come. Just as he was about to leave he spotted his great grandmother through the window. “Ransom? Are you back?” She inquired, eyes glazed over. He didn’t answer her, running back down the path towards his car. As soon as he was settled in his seat he peeled out of the woods and back down the road. 

His heart pounded and he was heaving with the adrenaline as he made his way back home. Home to you. His loving wife. As he thought of you he wasn’t able to help the stirring in his pants. His cock twitched as he thought about pressing you down into the mattress and fucking you within an inch of your life. On nights like this when his blood boiled with anger, all he ever wanted was to fuck you relentlessly. It was one of the only things that could calm him. Both of you knew this. It was almost like tradition. Whenever you saw him steaming in rage you would know to drop to your knees and start sucking his cock like a good girl. He wondered if you would do the same for him tonight or if you’d be asleep when he got home. After carrying out his devious plan it had gotten pretty late. He wouldn’t be surprised if you’d already made your way to bed. However, he hoped that you would be waiting up for him. He needed to feel your tight pussy wrapped around him right now more than anything. 

Soon enough he was pulling into the driveway. When he made his way into the house it was pitch black, save for a single hallway light. The light led him towards the bedroom where he optimistically opened the door. However, to his dismay, you were in bed. This only served to stoke the flames of his frustration as he closed the door behind him. There was a lamp still on beside the bed. You must have been too tired to remember to turn it off. He went to do so for you when something caught his eye. There was a note on the night stand. He picked it up, holding it in the lamplight so that he could read it.

“I know it’s been a hard day. I wanted to make sure you were well taken care of. I know I fell asleep before you got home but don’t let that stop you from getting what you need. All that frustration ... take it out on me. My body is yours to use as you see fit. Check under the blanket for a surprise. Love, Y/N.” 

Ransom furrows his brow for a brief moment, unsure if he should take the bait or not. You’re facing away from him on the bed, completely covered in your large warm comforter. With a tentative hand, he pulls the blanket off of you. When he does his eyes widen and a breath catches in his throat. You’re totally naked underneath. What’s more, he spots something else that captures his attention. With a wicked grin, he notices that there is a butt plug secured inside your tight little asshole. The sight of you like this causes his cock to harden instantly. He’s nearly busting out of his pants as he takes a step closer to the bed, thoroughly enjoying the view. 

Reaching out towards you he runs a hand down your back and over the curve of your ass. Your skin is so soft beneath his hands and it causes him to groan lowly as he hikes your leg a little higher to get a good look at your sweet pussy. It glistens in the lamplight, already so creamy and wet from the dirty dreams you’re probably having right now. “God you are so fucking good to me.” He mumbles. 

With two fingers he traces a line through your slick folds, gathering up some of your wetness. Unable to contain himself, he lifts his fingers to his lips and sucks on them. The taste of you makes his cock twitch. He lowers his hand to your cunt, dragging his fingers through your pussy lips again. Your wet fuckhole weeps, begging for his attention. Who was he to deny you? Nudging at your entrance he eases his two fingers inside of you, fucking you gently. That’s when he curls his digits upwards, finding your g-spot. He knows how much you love it when he massages the soft spongey flesh there. If you were awake he knew you’d be arching your back and whining loudly. Instead, you whimper lightly as he strokes your insides. 

“Do you like that? You like it when I love on your special spot baby?” He mocks you, knowing the answer. That’s when the glint of the lamplight catches on the shiny butt plug, stealing his attention. The button on the end was a cute pink heart jewel. The two of you had picked it out together. You only used it for special occasions. Even if you were oblivious to the fact, tonight was just such a night. Within the next few days the two of you would have more money than you would know what to do with. That was cause for celebration. And he was going to celebrate by abusing all of your tight holes. 

Taking a firm hold of the end of the butt plug he begins pulling, watching the bulbous tip stretch open your hole. This tears a whine from your lips as he pushes it back inside of you. He continues that movement slowly, in and out of your tight asshole. All the while he continues to fingerfuck your tight cunt. Feeling a sudden surge of cruelty he yanks the butt plug out of you with a pop. This is enough to make your eyes snap open, a hard gasp ripping through your chest as you take in all the sensations of waking up like this. 

“Good morning my darling wife. How did you sleep?” He asks however you are not able to respond, overwhelmed by the feelings of his fingers and the plug moving in and out of you at the same pace. Now that you’ve opened your eyes he doesn’t hesitate to be rougher, fucking you in earnest. As much as you love what he can do with his fingers you crave more. You need his cock inside of you. 

“Ransom--” He cuts you off with another harsh yank of the plug. 

“What’s the matter baby? Am I fucking you too good? Can’t finish your sentence? That’s okay, you don’t have to tell me. I know what you want. And you’re gonna get it. Of course, how can I say no to that sweet little face?” He says, dripping with condescension. However, you couldn’t care less. All you want is the feeling of him inside you. 

“Please.” Is the only word you’re able to get out. Ransom doesn’t need to hear anymore though. He’s happy to oblige you.

“Why don’t you get comfy baby?” He asks as he begins peeling off layers of clothing. You do as he says, scooching onto your back and laying in the middle of the bed. As soon as he’s completely naked he climbs up onto the bed, nestling himself between your legs. Taking his cock into his hand he rubs the head up and down through your folds. The feeling of your slickness makes him groan deeply as he nudges up against your entrance. “God, you’re going to feel so good wrapped around my cock. I’m gonna take out all my frustrations on this little pussy baby. Do you want that? You want my cock?” 

“Yes. Please.” You whimper, squirming closer to him. 

“Don’t worry baby girl. You’re gonna fucking get it.” With that he pushes the tip inside of you, easing his fat cock into your tight wet hole. “Oh fuck. That’s it. Such a good girl.” He praises you as he shoves himself in the rest of the way, burying himself balls deep inside of you. The fullness that you feel makes your mouth gape as you take him. Your back arches as you try to work your hips further into him. No matter how good he fucks you, you always want more. 

“Harder please.” This makes a wicked grin spread across his face. 

“Oh, you want me to fuck you harder baby? I should have fucking known, you being the little slut that you are. Don’t you worry your dumb little head. I’m just getting started.” He doesn’t move any faster, content to take his time and move at his own pace. This causes you to whimper loudly as you try to get his attention, begging him for what you want. However, it’s all to no avail. 

“If you keep whining like that I’m gonna stop fucking you altogether. Is that what you want? Huh? Do you want me to stop?” 

“No!” You burst out and he nods his head. 

“That’s what I fucking thought. So shut your mouth and take what I give you.” To this you give small sheepish nod and simply lay back against the pillows, letting Ransom go as slowly as he pleases. With each thrust you feel more and more full, feeling the head of his cock easing against your cervix. Your back arches off the bed when he indulges you with a particularly hard thrust. He begins to shift his hips, moving in just the right way so that he hits your sweet spot with his tip each time he thrusts in and out. This causes you to moan loudly, unable to control yourself when he’s digging into the perfect spot which makes you explode with pleasure. As he pushes into your g-spot over and over again you feel a familiar coil building in your stomach. Just as you feel the coil ready to snap and send you over the edge, he pulls out of you. You whimper shamelessly and in response, he clamps a hand over your mouth to stop your noises. 

“I told you to shut up. Since you don’t know how to follow a simple order, I’m gonna help you.” Taking his hand away from your mouth, he scoots up the bed until his thick heavy cock is resting against your face. “Go on sweetheart. Put my big fat dick in your mouth. That’ll shut you up.” You obediently open your mouth, starting by licking the tip. A bead of precum leaks out onto your tongue and you swallow it greedily. Ransom’s eyes stay concentrated on you as you take the head of his cock into your mouth, sucking on it as you swirl your tongue around him. “Come on, you can fucking take more than that.” He says, prompting you to open wider and take more of him into your mouth. Your tongue licks lazy patterns on the underside of his cock as you bob your head up and down. A deep groan leaves his lips as you push your head as far down on his dick as you can, feeling him against the back of your throat. Pulling off with a pop you catch your breath before quickly returning to suck his cock. You push him down your throat each time, nuzzling your nose into his lower stomach. 

“God, that’s good. All the way down, just like that. You’re such a good little cocksucker baby.” Ransom praises. He holds your head still with one hand and begins thrusting into your throat, fucking your mouth. You gag and splutter as he fucks you relentlessly, not giving you a moment to breathe. After a moment he pulls out of your mouth completely, moving back down your body until he’s hovering over your pussy again. “Alright baby, get on your hands and knees.” 

You oblige him quickly, wide awake now as you position yourself right where he wants you. As soon as you’re in place he lines his cock up with your wet little fuckhole. He doesn’t hesitate, pushing in balls deep the moment that he’s ready. You moan softly as you feel him fill you up. Somehow you feel even more full when he’s fucking you from behind. Ransom pounds in and out of you, your head jolting forward into the pillow every time his cock goes crashing into you. 

“Fuck yes. Do you like that? Like the way my dick stuffs you? Jesus you’re so fucking tight. I’m gonna bust pretty soon sweetheart.” He tells you, his hips beginning to stutter as he fucks into you like his life depends on it. You scream, feeling every inch of him rubbing your insides raw. His hand threads through your hair, pulling your head off the pillows so he can look at you. “That’s it. Wanna see those pretty eyes while I fuck you stupid.” He says, jutting upwards so that he’s hitting your sweet spot again. This causes that familiar pressure to build in your stomach. He immediately knows that your close, pulling your body flush against his own so that he can rub your pretty clit. A few rough strokes of his fingers on your clit is enough to send you flying over the edge. You convulse, shaking on his cock as you cum for him. The feeling of you clenching around him brings him close to his own orgasm. He pushes you back into the bed and pulls out, giving his cock a few long strokes before he unloads all over your back. Thick hot ropes of cum shoot out over your skin as he grunts and groans, milking every drop of seed out of himself. When he’s down he collapses beside you, eyes closed as he pants. 

“Jesus that was so good Y/N. You’re so good to me.”

“I certainly try.” 

“You do more than try. You’re everything to me. I’m always gonna keep you safe, you hear me? I’m gonna make sure you’re well taken care of as long as we both shall live. I promise.” You didn’t know what was on his mind but you could tell he was deep in thought. 

“I know Ransom. I know.” You assure him, scooting closer and draping an arm over him. After a few minutes of catching your breaths together he hops up, grabbing a towel to wipe the cum off your back. He lays back down, pulling you close in his arms. 

“I will do whatever it takes to make sure my baby is safe and happy.” As he says this he sees flashes of what he did tonight in his mind. He really would do anything for you. Even murder. Not that you needed to know that. He watches you patiently until you fall asleep before he himself drifts off, falling into a deep and dreamless slumber. 

Tags: @ahopelessromanticwritersworld @readsalot73​ @runa-falls @sheerfreesia007​ @hansensgirl @cloudystevie​ @royalsweetteaa @inklore @shotgunbunny @imyourbratzdoll @sstan-hoe @diordrysdale @rubynationwins @syntheticavenger @comfortcap​ @onsunnyside @boxofbonesfic @wildestdreamsblog @balenciagabucky​

#chris evans #ransom drysdale #ransom drysdale x reader #ransom drysdale x you #ransom drysdale x y/n #knives out #knives out x reader #chris evans x reader #rough #degrading

[bi-bard]

Christmas Day - Benoit Blanc Imagine (Knives Out)

Title: Christmas Day

Pairing: Benoit Blanc X Platonic!Reader

Word Count: 621 words

Warning(s): not having family/friends

Summary: (Y/n) had started working with Benoit Blanc more and more. When he finds out that (Y/n) doesn't have anyone to visit for the holidays, he decides to reach out and try to make their holiday season a little bit better.

Author's Note: Happy Holidays! I am not one who usually writes Christmas stories, but I thought that this would be cute.

--------------------------

I was never expecting to work with Benoit Blanc.

He was one of the best detectives in the world. He always seemed like a one-man team that may have been forced to work with others in certain situations. I didn't think that he had any interest in recruiting someone to work with him.

But after working one case with him, he started reaching out more and more.

Slowly, I started to feel like an actual partner. Like we both saw each other as equals.

Which probably wasn't close to true. He was pretty much my boss.

He was a nice guy. A little excitable when there was a mystery, but otherwise nice and honest. A good person.

I don't know how Benoit found out that I didn't have anyone to spend the holidays with. I'm sure that if I asked then I would get some long-winded explanation about how some small thing that I did or said.

I only found out that he knew when he asked me to join him on Christmas.

"What?" I replied, thinking that I must've misheard him.

"I want you to join Phillip and me for Christmas," Benoit repeated.

I was silent for a few moments before I finally got myself to shake my head. "No, no. I can't do that. I don't want to intrude-"

"Nonsense," he cut me off. "Phillip and I would be happy to have you."

I took a deep breath.

"I don't want you spending Christmas alone," he continued. "Please?"

I sighed. "Fine."

"Good," he grinned.

Christmas day, I found myself walking up to Benoit's place and knocking on the door.

"There they are," Benoit cheered as he pulled the door open. I chuckled at him.

He pulled me into a hug. I barely avoided hitting him in the back with the bag that I had brought for him and Phillip.

"Merry Christmas," he stepped back. I said the phrase back to him.

Phillip stepped around him and gave me a softer hug. "It's nice to see you, (Y/n)."

"Thank you for inviting me," I said. I held the bag out to him. "I brought a gift."

"Oh, you didn't need to do this."

"It's the least I could do," I waved him off.

"Well, it's good that you mentioned gifts," Benoit walked over to another part of the room, coming back with a wrapped gift. "Open it."

I chuckled before pulling the wrapping paper off.

It was a collection of pens. Nice pens. I traced my thumb over the case.

"You mentioned enjoying having good pens to take notes with," he explained. "There are the best that money can buy."

"You... You didn't have to-"

"Yes, I did."

"I can't accept-"

"You can and you will."

I stammered for a moment before looking down at them again.

After a few moments, I moved to hug Benoit again. He chuckled before hugging me back.

"Thank you," I muttered. "For everything. It's more than I deserve."

"That's not true," he mumbled back to me before stepping out of the hug. "Now, come on, Phillip is quite the entertaining cook."

"Only because Benoit burns everything that he touches," Phillip added.

I laughed before hopping onto the barstool next to the kitchen island.

The night was spent chatting, watching Phillip do most of the cooking, and eating.

They were both so kind to me. It didn't feel like I was a burden or that I was in the way. I felt like a part of the family. It was a new feeling for me, but I really enjoyed it. I could get used to feeling like that.

All I could hope was that I could somehow show them how much that meant to me.

--------------------------

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#knives out imagine #knives out fanfiction #knives out x reader #glass onion x reader #glass onion imagine #glass onion fanfiction #benoit blanc imagine #benoit blanc fanfiction #benoit blanc x reader #imagine #fanfiction #x reader

[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

[heliads]

I was just thinking of sort of a father-child dynamic? Like, he finds the gender-neutral Reader because they're a suspect in one of his murder cases (not the Thrombey case from the movie), and realizes that they're super smart and would make an amazing detective, but he finds out they don't have a home and decides to make them his ward-slash-apprentice? I dunno if you'd actually want to write that, but it's an idea I've had for a while and God knows your writing is ten times better than mine. 😅

i have an obsession with knives out

masterlist / part two

Benoit Blanc does not know how this is going to go down. He has his inklings, of course, a few thoughts and ideas scattered here and there like forgotten Easter Eggs the day after a hunt, but nothing certain yet. His brightly colored plastic pieces of leads have yet to guide him to anything truly worthwhile. 

That’s his favorite part of the entire process, if Benoit were feeling glib enough to put a name to it. Usually, he at least pretends to be somewhat unbiased. Too many investigators these days are in it for the money or fame. Not him, he claims. Of course, it’s not entirely certain that anyone will believe him, but the fact remains. 

No, if Benoit were in this line of work for anything, he’d have to say that it would be for the story. You can’t make this sort of stuff up anywhere, not in the most fantastic thrillers. No trade paperback could even dare to dream up the stories Benoit has seen. You could shell out a million bucks on dime a dozen fictions and still not even scratch the surface of all that Benoit has discovered by way of odd jobs and borrowed reports. 

That isn’t to say that Benoit is against the novel, of course. They certainly have their role in his life, sure as any other person or thing that happens to stumble into his path. Sometimes he thinks that he might have a little fun writing up a book or two based on his own experiences. Most of it would be classified, of course, but certainly he could ad lib enough to hook in a reader or two. 

This isn’t the point, of course. Perhaps that’s as good a sign as any that Benoit’s attempts at literary handicrafts would end in less than mediocre sales. His habits of running headlong from one tangent to the next, often barely connected in topic at all, could scare away even the most fervent readers. He’s had deputies tell him that much more than a few times, and even those less comfortable with chastising their coworkers settle for some raised eyebrows when the moment suits them best. 

Ah, so well then. No novels for him. Not even a particularly lengthy memo if he’s in the mood for sparing the nearest police department from his musings. In the end, though, Benoit doesn’t necessarily need an audience, although he can’t deny that a good reception certainly lends itself to a good time whenever he can get a hold of one. 

For example, right now he’s got a case that’s shaping up nicely in terms of a final deliverance of a verdict. Benoit isn’t judge, jury, and executioner, of course, no matter what dots he connects the end decision will be made by someone other than him, but that doesn’t seem to stop everyone tied to a given case from flocking around him like his word is gold. 

One of these multitudes in particular has been catching his eye for a while. Among the usual number of jilted in-laws and disgruntled passersby who’ve all been corralled into the scene of his latest crime, Benoit cannot help but notice someone who’s been standing on the outskirts of it all. This case is as far from insipid as any other, people cannot help but get themselves involved. Still, one witness seems immune to the waves of melodrama and perilous lies that seem to catch at the sleeves of everyone else here.

He has a problem with being interested in the wrong details. Technically, Benoit should be more invested in the fact that he is here to investigate the death of a wealthy family matriarch, not some kid on the fringe of the whole ordeal, yet the roles are flipped regardless in his head. 

Besides, it’s not like anyone truly needs to worry. Benoit is already twenty percent sure that the killer was the gardener, there were muddy footprints out in the mansion gazebo that look eerily similar to work boots. The mother of a prestigious family had ended up dead one night, drowned in an over chlorinated pool that removed all traces of DNA for the police to investigate. Although the gardener claimed to have been off work that day and thus unable to commit the crime, the prints exist nonetheless. 

Also, it makes no sense for the newly hired gardener to be so committed to his craft that they would be given the keys to the house within a day of submitting an application, yet have not a single callus on their hands. Benoit suspects the gardener to be a plant, likely at the wishes of a disgruntled uncle. Motives are still unclear as of yet, but he has a feeling that explanations will come up if he just pulls at the right string.

In the meantime, as Benoit waits for the house of cards that’s been so precariously built to come tumbling down at last, he peruses the finer details in the whole fiasco. There’s a kid mixed up in all of this, a neighbor down the block who refuses to supply the police with an address or phone number to call. They’re caught up in all of this because they spent time with the murdered matriarch almost on a daily basis. Reports have come in from multiple members of the family of always seeing the kid there whenever they went to visit the mansion.

It’s got Benoit confused, to say the least. He’s seen nurses frequenting the houses of lonely millionaires before, or greedy grandchildren hoping to score a few extra points by hanging around their soon-to-die relatives, but this is something different. There’s no blood connection between this kid and the victim, and so far as he can tell, they weren’t getting any money, either. No job, no expectations, just a home lent out like a library book, free of charge.

It makes no sense. All actions must have an explanation, yet he’s still waiting on this one. The kid is frustratingly hard to track down as well, and Benoit is forced to go about his days simply hoping that they’ll show up and he’ll have enough time to question them before his attention is pulled in another direction.

He gets his chance soon enough. The kid drops by in the morning out of necessity, and although they don’t seem like they’re going to be staying too long, Benoit still manages to snag them before they slip away.

“I’m going to take a lap around the grounds of the house,” he says as casually as he can, “I hear you’re here frequently, I wouldn’t mind a guide. If you’re willing, of course. I would hate to intrude on your personal time.”

The kid– Y/N L/N, he remembers reading in a brief police report that didn’t have much other information– stares at him for a moment, then nods at last. “Sure. I don’t have much else to do anyway.”

Sensing an opening, or perhaps an intentional lack thereof, Benoit presses on as they turn towards the gardens. “What do you mean? I would have thought that somebody your age would be in school. I know you’re required to be here for the proceedings of the investigation, but surely you would have to get to class at some point.”

Y/N shrugs their shoulders. “I mean, yeah, but school doesn’t start for another hour or so. Beside, I figure a murder mystery is somewhat more interesting than high school, yeah?”

Benoit chuckles. “I can’t say I disagree. That being said, you could be involved in more such mysteries if you finished your education. You have to give yourself all the tools possible if you wish to use them, you know? No good comes in building a house if you’ve only got a hammer and nails. It takes much more than that to make something worthwhile.”

Y/N gives him a sideways look. “Is this your way of saying that I’ve got a screw loose for thinking about skipping world history?”

Benoit snorts. “That would be something. Ha! Not intentional, I guarantee you. I have long since learned that it is best to avoid alienating potential suspects.”

Y/N folds their arms across their chest. “You think I did it, then? Am I a primary suspect?”

“Not in the slightest,” he chuckles, “If you did, you’d be a little more alarmed about me singling you out rather than just being afraid that I’d catch you for not having anywhere else to go after this.”

When Y/N’s steps freeze, Benoit knows his shot in the dark has landed, bulls eye and all.

He continues, sensing an advantage. “That is correct, is it not? The deceased gave you a key to her house because it was the best place for you to be when you weren’t at school. She never knew the full depth of it, of course, but she didn’t ask questions. That’s why you stayed.”

“That, and the conversation,” Y/N says through a forced grin. They sigh and give in at last. “Yes, it’s true. Mrs. Gillespie was kind to me. Kinder than I deserved. She didn’t know everything but she knew enough. Once she made it clear that I wasn’t intruding on her hospitality by coming over all the time, it became a habit.”

“And what are you going to do now that staying at the Gillespie residence is no longer an option?” Benoit asks carefully.

When Y/N is silent, he gets the feeling that he knows the answer. Through some situation or another, there is no secondary location lined up. That’s why Y/N has been coming to the crime scene alongside the other members of the family even though it’s clear that they’re not a real suspect. They simply have no other place to go.

It’s clear that the kid is uncomfortable, so Benoit switches the topic towards a discussion of the grounds. Evidently glad for safer subjects, Y/N loses a bit of their guarded edge, and soon enough begins to rattle off details of the mansion and its surrounding land that Benoit didn’t even know after in depth Googling. It is obvious that they have spent a good bit of time wandering the area, especially in the company of the late matriarch.

It is useful information, but Benoit can’t help turning his focus back to what had been said in the very beginning. Even after the case turns its last pages and settles into the storage of his memory, Benoit doesn’t think that he’ll be able to let this one go so easily. Once the handcuffs are snapped onto the wrists of the murderer, there’s still one soul mixed up in this that won’t have such a happy ending. Sometimes justice isn’t just catching killers, it’s making sure that those who are hurt by a crime receive what they deserve. That includes Y/N.

He isn’t sure how they’ll take it when he makes his offer. Benoit pulls Y/N aside on the final day of the investigation. Everyone is just there on protocol to wrap things up, but he needs to talk to them more than anyone else.

“Listen,” he says in the shadow of a quiet room, “I was thinking about what you said earlier. Our conversation on the grounds, that is.”

Judging by the shift in Y/N’s expression, they know exactly what he’s talking about. “What do you mean?”

“I’d like to extend a similar invitation as Mrs. Gillespie,” Benoit explains, “A ward of sorts, I think it could be best summed up.”

Y/N shakes their head quickly. “I don’t want your pity.”

“This isn’t pity,” Benoit promises, “I’ve been watching you just as closely as our red herrings and killers, you know. I’m fairly sure that you figured out this whole case even before I did. Instincts like yours don’t come around all that often. Maybe you won’t be interested in my sort of murder mysteries in five years, or even two, but I’d like your insights while you’re still invested.”

Y/N stays silent for a moment, and just when he’s starting to think that the whole thing will be for naught, they dare to speak again. “You’re sure?”

“Positive,” Benoit declares, and at last a slow smile breaks across Y/N’s face.

“Alright, then,” they say, “I think I’d like that a lot. You know, I never thought much about actually becoming a detective. Usually my investigative exploits were limited to books, you know? Encyclopedia Brown and all that.”

“Let’s make it real, then,” Benoit offers, “I happen to know a few cases in need of solving over the next few months.”

He solemnly extends a hand, and after a second, Y/N shakes it, their face just as serene. They break eventually, twin smiles crashing through even the most severe of expressions. Just like that, Benoit has a feeling that his investigations are going to be all the better. Sometimes all it takes is a fresh pair of eyes on a case that’s haunted you for a while. The problems to come his way, the challenges to be set before him, they will still be just as difficult as before, if not more so. It’s a good thing, though, that he’s got an apprentice by his side to help him sort things out.

Yes, he has a feeling that they’re going to do just fine.

requested by @starlit-epiphany, i hope you enjoy!

knives out tag list: empty for now!

#benoit blanc #benoit blanc x reader #benoit blanc oneshot #platonic benoit blanc #knives out #knives out imagines #knives out x reader #knives out oneshot #knives out benoit blanc #knives out benoit blank imagines #knives out benoit blanc x reader #knives out benoit blanc oneshot

[jjsmaybank20]

Hey, I hope you are having a wonderful day/week! I really don't know if I am doing this right since this is the first time I ever request something. I read some of your stories and I really liked them. I was wondering if you could right a fluff from Marta Cabrera x female reader (an author if that's okay), maybe after the events from Knives Out, there isn't enough content from her. She is so precious! If you can't that's alright too. Lots of love!

Always and Forever

Marta Cabrera x GN!Reader

Summary: Marta Cabrera is the woman for you.

Warnings: Mentions of murder, mentions of smut, L-bomb, otherwise just fluff!

Word Count: 972

A/N: I'm baaaack! Enjoy this fluffy fic to mark my return.

navigation misc. masterlist

---

Harlan Thrombey was your mentor, Go partner, and close confidant. You were an aspiring mystery writer, and he took you in and taught you his secret and wonderful ways with words. He helped you through some of the toughest times of your life, and quickly became something of a father figure to you. Because of this, you grew closer to the Thrombey family.

Over time, Harlan grew older, and he hired Marta Cabrera to assist him. At first, you weren’t a huge fan of hers. She became one of his Go partners, he would confide in her, and they became very close friends. You felt jealous, missing the times when it was just you and Harlan. Soon though, she grew on you just as she had on the rest of the Thrombeys.

Soon you realized that you had developed feelings for her. Not knowing what to do, you went to Meg for help. With her assistance, you awkwardly asked Marta out. She thankfully said yes, and you took her on a wonderful date. That was the beginning of a beautiful relationship. 

You two were in love, it was clear to see, but it wasn’t without it’s hardships. You struggled when Harlan passed, but you were quick to reassure your girlfriend that you didn’t blame her at all. You helped her to fool Detective Benoit, and stuck by her side throughout the entire ordeal.

You were there for her at the will reading, and when the Thrombeys got violent, you turned against your found family and held them off while Ransom drove Marta away. 

Not trusting Ransom, as you had known him for years and you knew what he was like, you were quick to join her when they were headed to the DNA Lab. Seeing that it was on fire, the three of you fled, leading to the dumbest car chase in the history of car chases.

Finally, you and Marta discovered Fran in the abandoned shop, and called 911 to attempt to save her. Detective Blanc soon collected the two of you, and brought you to the hospital, and then the Thrombey house. 

Knowing that Marta was going to confess, you stood close by her so that you could protect her from anybody who would try to attack her. As she was about to begin, Blanc interrupted her and then pulled her away.

You quickly followed after them. When you heard Marta lie about Fran’s survival, you were quick to call her bluff silently. You could always tell when your girlfriend was lying, even when she didn’t puke right away. 

Upon hearing the confession of Ransom, you knew he would attempt to go out with a bang. When Marta puked in his face, you were quick to push her out of the way as you saw him go to lunch for a knife. 

Ending up on the floor with him on top of you, you let out a massive sigh of relief, feeling that the knife was a trick. Sort of like Harlan’s final punishment for the now imprisoned Drysdale. It was only fair.

---

Two months after the whole ordeal, you, Marta, and Marta’s mother and sister were comfortably moved into the former Thrombey house. With how much time you spent there, it already felt like it was your home, so it was only fit that your girlfriend owned it.

Waking up one morning, you see that Marta isn’t in bed with you. You begin to search around the large house for her, finally finding her out on the balcony that overlooks a fair amount of the property. 

Coming up behind her, you wrap your arms around her much smaller body. You feel her lean back into you, and the sensation makes you realize that you wouldn’t want to ever be anywhere but here, with your girlfriend in your arms, staring out over her beautiful land.

“Hey, sweetheart. What’re you doing up?” She asks you softly. You grin at the pet name, never getting over the butterflies that explode when she calls you it. You press soft kisses to her hickey covered neck, a product of the many long nights before. 

“I could ask you the same, love. Couldn’t sleep?” She shudders lightly, your morning voice always having some kind of affect on her. 

She shakes her head. You snuggle back into her before realizing what you have to do. You quickly tell her to stay where she is, then you run inside and grab the little black velvet box that you have been waiting to present to her.

When you come back, you have it hidden behind your back. Marta looks at you, confused. You smile at her before getting down on one knee. She gasps.

“Marta, I didn’t like you very much when I first met you. I thought you were stealing Harlan’s attention away from me. Over time, you slowly won me over. You just have that ability. You help me write my books when I’m stuck, and you know exactly what to say when I’m nervous about a release. We have been through hell and back together, and I would like to spend the rest of my life with you. So, Marta Cabrera, would you make me the happiest person alive and marry me?”

By this point, tears are streaming down both of your cheeks. Marta quickly gasps out a yes, and you jump up and pull her into a passionate kiss. 

“Oh my god, I love you so much!” She breathes against your lips. You laugh before saying, “I love you too. Now, we have to go tell your mom and sister. Marta Y/L/N, I like the sound of that.”

Marta smacks you playfully while you walk off to go tell your families the wonderful news. You couldn’t wait to marry this wonderful woman before you.

---

Join my taglist!

#marta cabrera x y/n #marta cabrera x you #marta cabrera x reader #marta cabrera fluff #knives out imagine #knives out x reader #knives out x you #knives out x y/n

[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

[kining-the-evil]

#scream #agents of shield x reader #scream x reader #house md #house md x reader #heathers #heathers movie #heathers x reader #agent carter #agent carter x reader #avengers #avengers x reader #hunger games #the hunger games x reader #knives out #knives out x reader #kinktober 2023 #kinktober

[judgementdaysunshine]

Hi, I'd love to read your take on Marta (Knives Out) and doing each other's make up.

Pairing:Marta Cabrera x Fem Reader

Description:After suddenly inheriting the Thrombey house,you and Marta spend a rainy day doing self care on each other and get a surprise from marta

Move in with me

You came over the day after hearing that Marta inherited the house she had been living in while taking care of Mr Thrombey not knowing he changed his will to only have her on it instead of any of his family. You and marta watched a few movies before eating lunch and taking a nap together for an hour getting up and letting marta cut your hair into a pixie buzzcut and dancing in the living room after showering and changing into comfy clothes,you then put face masks on each other watching more movies and reading to each other before rubbing the rest of the mask in your skin and washing your hands,the two of you noticed it was raining outside after deciding to go into the garden. "Can i do your makeup?" you asked looking at marta knowing what look you were gonna do on her "Absolutely" she says grabbing your hand as you two go upstairs getting your and her box of makeup sitting on the floor in front of each other, you do her makeup after awhile she lays down with her head in your lap and hair in a messy bun "There you go" you hand her the mirror smiling as she smiles at the red look you did on her "Looks amazing" she says as you lay down and she straddles you giving you a quick kiss before doing your makeup. You slowly fall asleep as she runs her finger through your hair in between doing makeup, "All done" she says handing you the mirror as you look loving the yellow look she did and smile when you see little sunflowers she did on the corner of your eyes "I love this" you say grabbing your phone taking a picture while marta puts both of your makeup boxes back and taking a picture of both looks then listening to music and washing the makeup off and eating dinner, you see marta staring at you while laying on the floor in her room watching a movie "Can i help you?" you saying laughing as she giggles shaking her head "Move in"she says before you can say anything else "What.."you say as she lays on you with her chin on your chest looking in your eyes "Move in with me,live with me" she says holding your face in her hands leaning in before you two kiss holding each other "I love you" you say getting up with marta following as you hold each other "I love you" she says as you two kiss again showing how much you love each other,later the two of you lay together holding each other as you caress her face and she traces stretch marks on your hip and freckles on your collarbone later falling asleep holding each other.

#knives out #marta cabrera #Marta Cabrera x Reader #Knives Out x Reader

[untilnextchapter]

Monthly Fanfictions Recommandation:

September'23 (Criminal Minds, Harry Potter, Lord of the Rings, Marvel, Supernatural, Teen Wolf)

October'23 (Chris Evans, Criminal Minds, Harry Potter, Knives Out, Marvel, Supernatural)

More coming soon

#untilnextchapter #fanfiction #untilnextchapter rec #x reader #marvel x reader #criminal minds x reader #supernatural x reader #harry potter x reader #lotr x reader #teen wolf x reader #chris evans x reader #marauders x reader #golden era x reader #knives out x reader

[bi-bard]

Oh, by the way, Knives Out fanfiction is going to be written

#both movies #because when have I ever shown self-control #knives out #glass onion #glass onion imagine #glass fanfiction #glass onion x reader #knives out imagine #knives out fanfiction #knives out x reader #imagine #fanfiction #x reader

[babyjakes]

〈 disclaimer: this blog posts content not suitable for individuals under the age of 18. minors are strictly prohibited from viewing, sharing, or interacting with this blog. for more information on this blog's commitment to protecting minors, read our full statement here. 〉

event | kinkmas 2023

prompt | mutual masturbation

pairing | best friend!ransom drysdale x reader

warnings | very innocent!reader, bordering on little!reader. soft!ran <333 specifically soft for reader. ddlg undertones tbh (no use of the word daddy but ran is daddy af and also tells reader to "be a big girl" multiple times.) reader is having orgasm troubles/anxiety. mutual masturbation (clit rubbing, jerking off through pants.) subtle humiliation vibes (not verbalized.) praise and encouragement. delayed orgasm. he steps in and helps/finishes her off. he also comes in his pants lol. they come together! :D

word count | 886

it all starts when he overhears you on the phone with your friend, admitting you’ve never been able to make yourself come 😭

it somehow leads to him laying you out on your bed, tugging playfully at your jean shorts. “c’mon, baby. i promise, i wont make it weird. i just wanna help you”

and he’s your beeeest friend, your very best friend in the whole wide world, and you know he’s got plenty of experience and knowledge when it comes to this sort of thing, so you try to swallow down your humiliation and go along with it

he kneels attentively in front of you as you rest back against your pillows, shyly pulling off your bottoms. he chuckles sympathetically at your cute little pastel panties with your favorite cartoon characters on them. if it were any other girl, he'd probably make fun of them, but you've always been a sweet innocent baby in his eyes so he can't help but find it endearing 💕💕

"c'mon, cutie. don't be shy, it's just me" you try to remember that he's right; it's just your ran, your safe, wonderful ran, who you've known your whole life

you squeeze your knees together as you pull off your panties. ransom's surprisingly patient with you, "let me see, silly. can you show me how you've been doing it? i can't help unless i know what the problem is"

it takes a bit more coaxing before your knees finally fall to either side of you, revealing your perfect little petals which instantly have ran giving you the biggest heart eyes 🥺💖 "oh baby, you're so pretty down there. aww, are you a little wet, sweetheart? it's okay, don't be embarrassed" as you're squirming softly in front of him

your hands are so clumsy as you try to figure out where to even begin. he's right: you're wet (though you swear this isn't turning you on!!!) your fingers fumble around as you lamely begin poking and prodding at your leaky hole

ran raises an eyebrow at you, not sure whether or not you're playing dumb or just really this clueless. "that's it?" he asks in disbelief, clearly not impressed. you sigh, trying not to hide your face in your hands from embarrassment. "what about your clit?" noticing how you immediately grow more squirmy at his question, he calls your bluff- "come on, y/n. be a big girl and show me" 🥲🥲

you finally bring one hand up to begin rubbing carefully over your little button. you fail to hold in a soft gasp at the sudden rush of pleasure, earning a smile from the man sitting in front of you. "there you go. keep going, princess," he encourages you

as the warm, fuzzy feelings grow, you find the courage to spread yourself out a little with your other hand, giving you better access to your swelling bundle of nerves. ran's grin grows as he watches it growing and pulsating beneath your rubs

"shit, sweetheart. so fucking cute when you play with yourself like that," he curses softly, bringing one of his own hands down to begin palming himself through his pants. seeing him getting worked up by you only turns you on more. you don't even notice when your juices begin leaking down onto your bedsheets 🥲

you become more vocal, holding back fewer of your sweet little moans and whimpers. the noises you're making are clearly driving ran crazy, his pace over his impressive bulge quickening as his face flushes red. "fuck, just like that. keep rubbing that pretty little button for me, baby. look at you, you're fucking soaked"

your fingers grow faster over your throbbing clit, your breaths becoming more labored as you feel pressure beginning to build in your tummy. as soon as you recognize what's about to happen, a familiar sense of doubt hits you as your motions begin to falter. "r-ran," you choke out, big eyes looking up at him for help.

he's immediately leaning down with a worried look on his face, quickly recognizing the problem. "no, no baby, it's okay," he tries to cheer you on, "just keep going, you're almost there"

"can't do it," you frown as your poor clit twitches helplessly after being abandoned so abruptly

"yeah you can, come on. let me help," you can't even think to speak up or stop him before he's reaching down, using his own fingers to resume the stimulation. for whatever reason, you lay back and take it. "spread yourself open for me, sweetheart. just like you did before, there," he hums in approval as your hands fumble to do as he instructed. he keeps his pace steady over your hardened nub, watching as you quickly near the edge once more

"now come on, baby. be a big girl and come for me," with him towering over you, one hand gripping himself shamelessly through his pants while the other works your burning button just right, he's able to coax an orgasm out of you with just a simple command

"there it is, that's my girl," he's beaming proudly as you're finally given your release. the sight of you losing control under his simple touch and order is too much for him to handle; he comes right there in his jeans with a loud groan 😌

#eun's writing #kinkmas 2023 #ransom drysdale #ransom drysdale smut #ransom drysdale fanfiction #ransom drysdale x reader #ransom drysdale x you #ransom drysdale x y/n #best friend!ransom drysdale #ransom drysdale headcanon #ransom drysdale blurb #ransom drysdale drabble #ransom drysdale one shot #ransom drysdale imagine #knives out #knives out fanfiction #chris evans #chris evans fanfiction #chris evans smut #daddy!ransom drysdale #ransom drysdale x little!reader

[heliads]

hi again !! person who asked about part 2 4 the benoit blanc fic here !! thank u 4 agreeing 2 write it !!

k so here's my request : it's like half a year after part 1 , and benny n the reader r solving crimes together but they're like ... super awkward with each other . they don't dislike each other , in fact they want to be closer , but r really wants a parental figure but isn't sure how to verbalize that and benoit jus does NOT know how 2 parent.

but then when they r on a case , r gets hurt ( not 2 serious , but enough 2 be scary ) , and benoit realizes how much he actually cares about this kid . n then they have a really sweet moment n decide 2 try n get closer ?

thank you so much !! i'm super excited 2 read this !!

anything for benny

part one / masterlist

Benoit Blanc is lost. Usually, this is not enough to trouble him. Problems are only worthwhile if they take some time to parse out. Benoit has no fondness for pointless mysteries, games in which the end is clear from the beginning and the middle has no value at all. He has always preferred to amble along and seek out clues. That is his best method of solving, it always has been.

It is a confounded issue, then, that Benoit is lost now. He is not in the midst of a crime, nor locked within the confines of a good hoax. He is between jobs at the moment, which usually means that his problem-solving fingers should cease to twitch at his sides, that he would no longer be ready to reach for a hint that will let him catch a killer.

Benoit’s problem at the moment regards his apprentice. He took on a teenager to help him with his cases about six months back, Y/N L/N. They’ve been an excellent aid, no cause for concern there, but Benoit’s judgment is faulty in where he is meant to draw the line between work friend and real friend. Typically, he never runs into this problem because he keeps each case to itself with no overlap whatsoever. By bringing Y/N with him, he now has someone closer than an acquaintance.

The issue is that Benoit would like to go about making their dynamic a little less stilted but he has absolutely no idea how to do it. There are moments when he’s certain that Y/N would appreciate a little parental guidance, for a lack of a better word, but Benoit is few things and one of them is certainly not a father. Thus, he is left grappling with how to indicate that he would like to try having a more central role in Y/N’s life with absolutely no idea how to do it.

Benoit took the idea to Phillip a month or so back to limited success. His partner had been focused on the intricacies of some blasted sourdough starter, his attention more in line with tossing flour to the heavens and whatnot. Benoit had posed the concern of what to do with the L/N kid. Phillip had allowed him to ramble on during the feeding time of the sourdough starter, which was consistently scheduled as if it were some kind of beast in need of a kilogram or ten of raw meat.

Benoit cannot fault his partner for the importance of the sourdough, however. They all need a task, some project in which to throw their focus and only withdraw some time later, wholly spent and perhaps a different man. Phillip finds his outlet with baking. Benoit does so with the lives of other people. 

Some would consider that to be a sign of their true characters, but Benoit tries to prioritize the people above the thrill of the hunt. That, in the end, is what he feels separates him from the gaudy treasure-seekers of podcasts and true crime shows. Although he does feel that he would make a superb advice host if the chance ever came along. Phillip has yet to catch on to the idea, but Benoit is giving it time.

The conversation was brief but sincere. Phillip had dashed about a cup of flour into the ominous bowl of starter, then turned to him with a sigh.

“You’re getting in your own way,” he had said simply.

Benoit had spread his hands. “Obviously, but how do I get out of my own way? It is difficult, sometimes, to find one’s path long enough to step aside and let the truth rush forward. Sort of like a child who’s just taken off their training wheels. They can go fast, of course, and wreak havoc throughout the suburbs, but, Lord, they should not be allowed to do so.”

Phillip raised a weary brow. “In this case, I don’t think the issue is that you shouldn’t be able to go fast. You just are afraid to let go of your inhibitions. They’re a kid, Blanc, not a piranha. Although God knows you’d rather investigate a piranha than deal with this.”

“It would be interesting to figure out how a piranha had managed to cross my path,” Benoit had mused. “That isn’t the point, though.”

“No,” Phillip said around another sigh, “it isn’t. You need to find the proper time, then tell Y/N what you expect, plain and simple. There’s no other way around there.”

Phillip was right, as expected. Unfortunately, it wasn’t the advice Benoit had wanted to hear. He would have preferred something along the lines of ‘don’t worry about it, how about you go take another case’ or even ‘wait for them to come to you,’ but life is hardly fair.

“Thank you,” Benoit had said at last, “and for goodness’ sake, stop pointing that spatula at me. I’m going to do it. No threatening necessary.”

Phillip had disagreed on that point, but that was hardly a surprise. Benoit had gone to bed that night wondering how he was going to find the right chance to explain his expectations for the situation between himself and Y/N. In the morning, he woke with a blessing.

Handwritten letters have long been Benoit’s favorite way of hearing about a new case. Typically, he can figure out half the evidence just from studying the correspondence. Is the information scribbled in a hasty scrawl or typed out to avoid giving anything away? Do they mention his prior cases from the papers, and if so, which ones? Are the stamps perfectly organized, the product of a great time for leisure, or slapped on the envelope just before the mailman came?

This letter is no exception. Already, Benoit has a few ideas percolating in his brain even before he starts reading the message. This is a call to arms, to be certain. A murder. A weapon. Several innocents all in the line of fire. An inheritance, ready to fall into the wrong hands. Yes, this is a case for him without a doubt.

Benoit explains the situation to Y/N when she comes back from school in the evening. They discuss initial motives, then agree to respond back in a most reasonable fashion. The police investigations start Saturday, so they’ll arrive early in the morning in the hopes of reaching the family before too much has happened.

The car is studiously quiet on the drive over to the crime scene. A few times, Benoit or Y/N will attempt to bring up a casual source of conversation, but they always seem to lose their nerve before true discourse can occur. Something will happen to make them hesitate, and then the ball is dropped and they’re back to silence.

Benoit is grateful to see the address of the crime scene before long, sparing them from another few unsuccessful endeavors. Half an hour later, they’re so lost in the tangled threads of this particular mystery that they don’t have much time to trouble themselves over small things like whether or not this whole apprenticeship deal was worth it.

By Saturday evening, Benoit feels that he’s got a pretty good hold on the case itself. It seems to be your typical run-of-the-mill inheritance snatch. A primary character is established, the man who would receive the largest cut of a will. They’re then framed for murder, thus ensuring that the bounty will instead fall to the second-in-line, a brother-in-law who only married into the family in the hopes of collecting this sort of bloody check. Very satisfying.

Sunday morning rolls around. After a final late night check with Y/N to make sure their facts are in order, the pair feels ready to present their findings to the police and distraught family. Benoit, always excited at the possibility of an audience, leads with his theory and watches the brother-in-law’s face twist with horror as he realizes he’s been exposed.

All is going according to plan, or at least it has been until the brother-in-law stands up and announces that he isn’t going quietly. The money has already been transferred to his account, much of it withdrawn, and he can live off of it for quite some time. The murderer moves to flee, but when the police start to block his path, he does the unthinkable and grabs Y/N as a hostage.

Benoit has no choice but to watch as the murderer leaves the house, gun pressed to Y/N’s temple as a guarantee that he’s going to remain untroubled. Benoit has been involved in quite a few murder cases over his time, and is no stranger to danger, but this is something altogether different. He is terrified, plain and simple. Terrified that he’ll lose his crime-solving partner before even a year has passed. Terrified that he’ll never get that chance Phillip was talking about.

It occurs to him now that Benoit needs that chance more than anything. If he does not speak with Y/N about the fact that he wants them to be better friends, to rely on each other more than the stilted dynamic they have going on right now, he will carry that regret to his grave.

It is good, then, that Benoit and Y/N had factored in the fact that the murderer would try to run and planned accordingly. The brother-in-law’s car only makes it halfway down the street before the tires abruptly give out and the vehicle screeches to a stop. Y/N was evidently waiting for that moment, because they fling open the door and dive out without a second’s hesitation.

Benoit sprints to their side, pulling them away from the car and towards safety. The police surround the car, and after a few tense seconds the brother-in-law comes out with his hands raised. Benoit only starts to relax once the killer is in handcuffs and he knows for certain that the situation is in the hands of the law.

He turns to Y/N at last, checking for signs of damage. “Are you hurt?” He asks, frantic.

Y/N shakes their head. “No, I’m alright. Just startled, that’s all.”

“You’re a brave kid,” Benoit manages, “I don’t know that many people who would be this unruffled after being taken as a hostage. It speaks to your character. It also reminds me how affected I would be if something worse had happened. You’re not a stranger, Y/N, you’re a friend. I’d like for us to believe in that.”

Y/N starts to smile. “More than normal?”

“Far more than normal,” Benoit confirms, “millions of miles beyond that point. The best partnerships are based on trust. I trust you, Y/N.”

“I trust you,” they respond, “that’s why I was alright. I knew that no matter what happened, even if the tire thing didn’t work out, you’d look for me.”

“You didn’t need me, though,” Benoit argues, “you had the situation handled just fine. You were courageous all by yourself and I am quite impressed by that.”

Y/N shakes their head. “I could be brave because I knew you were there. I trust you.”

“Alright,” Benoit says at last, “we’re good, then.”

“We’re great,” Y/N confirms.

Benoit thinks that he’s going to have to talk to Phillip about this. The plan has gone quite well indeed.

part one requested by @starlit-epiphany, your ideas are very popular around here

knives out taglist: empty for now!

#benoit blanc #benoit blanc imagines #benoit blanc x reader #benoit blanc oneshot #knives out #knives out imagines #knives out x reader #knives out oneshot #platonic benoit blanc #platonic benoit blanc imagines #platonic benoit blanc x reader #platonic benoit blanc oneshot

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Three for One 1

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as dubcon/noncon, cheating, customer service abuse, and other possible triggers. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: As a customer service associate, you're used to work with a wide variety of characters. Your efforts to go above and beyond draw the attention of a certain set of customers who want more than what's on the shelf.

Character: Andy Barber, Lloyd Hansen, Ransom Drysdale

Note: Right, this was supposed to be a drabble series but it morphed and not I'm fucked.

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me &lt;3

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!)

Love you all. Take care. 💖

It's the most special time of year! Mistletoe, jingle bells, and holiday cheer! Oh, and hot chocolate. Lots of that.

You hide your thermos under the desk and grab the crystal bottle again, giving a test spritz to the air. Your job isn't very complicated. All you do is say hi and chat about the perfume. Your manager says the job is selling but you don't like to see it that way.

You smile at a family of five as they veer towards the toy section. You don't think the six year old would be into an eau de parfum. It's understandable.

While you spend your hours wandering around expensive makeups and scents, you're filled with a certain hint of longing. For what you're paid to push the merchandise, you can't afford any of it yourself. Well, you've never been very materialistic.

You spin around and see a gentlemen approaching, though he doesn't seem to see you. He looks past you, almost through you. You stop in place and put on your best smile, fixing the red band around your head.

"Hello, sir, would you like to try some Gucci?" You offer and spray the nozzle at him.

He skids to a stop and recoils as if he's been slapped. He holds out his arm as he looks down at his coat, little droplets seeping into the fabric. He takes a whiff, his short mustache wiggling under his nose, and he scoffs as he tries to shake off the cologne.

"What the fuck are you doing?" He snips.

"Sorry, sir, I didn't mean to scare you."

"You just go around spray people with that horseshit?"

"Well, sir, with respect, I don't like that sort of language.

"And I don't like being drenched in dog piss," he blusters, "point me to the goddamn trimmers."

"Um, what kind? Nail trimmers? Pet trimmers? Garden trimmers?"

"What the fuck do you think?" He points to his own face.

You hold your smile. There's always that one customer who's having a bad day. Whatever's got him so upset must be worse than dealing with him.

"Personal care," you point to the far corner, "right over there, sir."

"Ugh," he stomps and storms off.

"I hope your day gets better," you call after him, "oh, did you want a store coupon--"

He ignores you as he waves you off over his shoulder. You watch him turn towards men's grooming and you shrug, rocking slightly. You try not to let them get to you. As jolly as you find this time of year, a lot of people don't feel the same.

You shrug off the encounter. You still have a few hours ahead of you and it's starting to bustle with customers. You help a couple find the home wares while keeping the boundary of cosmetics firm. Lucille, the manager, doesn't like you leaving your zone.

You approach a woman looking at the Prada selection and get her checked out with a new fragrance, specially gift-wrapped by yours truly. She leaves happy, a small victory for the day. You celebrate but not too much.

You come around the counter just as you see that man strutting back up. He has an item in his hand and ignores you as he passes. Still you smile at him.

"Annoying," he mutters under his breath.

"Need help finding anything else, sir?" You ask his heels.

He stops and you see the way his spine stiffens. Oh no, you shouldn't have said anything. He slowly turns to face you.

"You can shut up," he marches up to you and grabs the bottle from your hands, "shut." He sprays you in the face, "up." He squirts you several more times before shoving the vial against your chest, "stupid little girl."

You take the bottle, blinking as you use your cuff to wipe the perfume away from your eyes. He continues on his path as you stand dumbfounded, drenched in Gucci cologne. It's hard to breathe through the heavy scent and you can't help but cough.

What a jerk. Just because he's having a bad day, doesn't mean everyone needs to.

Slowly you grow accustomed to the smell of yourself. It’s not too unusual. You go nose blind about halfway through your shift once you spray a few too many samples. You keep your distance from customers, offering them a spritz but trying not to crowd them with the vapors of cologne rippling off of you.

You yawn as the afterwork rush floods in and you make another round, smiling at Sofia as she peeks over at you. She’s with another customer at the counter, ringing them up as she gabs. You spin at the display at the center of the crossway that runs through the beauty department and stagger back before another can run you over.

You apologise to the tall man as he skids to a stop on his soles. You can tell he’s in a hurry by the way he grips his briefcase and squares his jaw. He wears a long dark wool coat as flecks of snow melt into his thick beard.

“Oh, sorry, I er, wasn’t–” He clears his throat, collecting himself, “I… didn’t see you.”

“That’s okay, sir,” you assure him, “would you like to try the new scent?”

You hold up the onyx bottle but don’t spray him. You don’t need another dousing. He looks at the silver letters on the side then at you. The furrow in his brow lightens as his blue eyes swim.

“No thanks, but er, you think you could help me find something?”

“Of course,” you chime and lower the bottle, “are you looking for a gift for someone special?”

He nods, “my mother-in-law is on her way into town, I need a present. Maybe perfume?”

His tone is tinted with frustration as he reaches up to rub the back of his neck. He lets out a long sigh. He’s one of those shoppers; the last minute scrambler. You grasp the vial in one hand and tug at the front of your thick red sweater, you’re starting to get a bit toasty in the crowded store.

“How old is she?” You ask.

“Um,” he clamps his lips together and thinks, “hmmm, probably seventy-something? I’m sorry, I guess I should know that.”

“That’s okay, I… I would suggest some Liz Taylor,” you turn on your heel and wave him after you as you head off, “it’s a classic. Not so much a me scent but the older crowd likes it. Oh, and it’s on special so your wallet won’t hate it, either.”

You stop by the Diamonds display as you face him again. He follows at a pace and stops before the shelf, perusing the gold caps and crystal caps. He considers the rack in deep thought.

“Here,” you set down your bottle on a nearby table of seasonal decorations and take one from the display. You slip out a strip of cardstock and spray it with the sampler, “this one is gardenia. That was her favourite scent. It’s probably the least pungent.”

You offer him the sample and he eyes it. He slowly bends and sniffs the end of the paper. He wiggles his nose. It makes you sneeze too. As much as you’re a fan of the classic actress, her scents are dated.

“Smells like her,” he grumbles under his breath, “sure, I’ll take that.”

“Great,” you declare and trade the sampler for a boxed bottle, then retrieve your disposed Gucci vial, “would you like me to check you out, sir?”

“Is it faster?” 

“I can be fast,” you promise him, “this way.”

You go around the sparkling counters and he meets you across the till. You type in your log in, taking several tries to get your passcode right. The man places his briefcase on the counter,a hand resting on the edge.

“You know a lot about this stuff?” He prompts.

“Yeah, I guess,” you smile as you scan the perfume and tap the special offer on the screen, “kinda part of the job.”

“Hmm” he hums again, in that thoughtful manner. You look at him but he’s not looking at your face, “that’s a nice sweater.”

You look down at the red wool speckled with pearls. It’s new and one of your favourites already. You can’t help a little wiggle of your shoulders, “thanks!”

“Very… cheerful,” he muses as he takes out his wallet, “wish I could say the same of what awaits me.”

“Oh, I’m sorry, sir, it’s that time of year, I guess,” you push the debit machine towards him and he taps his credit card, “I’m sure your mother-in-law will love the perfume.” The transaction approves and the receipt prompts, “would you like an email?”

“Nah, that’s fine,” he tucks his credit card away.

“Would you like it gift-wrapped?” You offer, “it’s free?”

He hovers his hand over his briefcase as he considers it. His eyes meet yours and his cheek dimples, “alright, yeah, that’s… that’s perfect. Thank you.”

“No problem,” you beam back at him, “let me just get some tissue paper…”

You murmur to yourself as you grab some gold tissue paper and a white gift bag with a Christmas tree embossed into the side. You carefully line up the small box on the paper and begin your intensive work. You're a master wrapper, you used to work at the wrapping station in the mall.

“What about you?” He asks before the silence can stretch too far, “you seeing family for the holidays? When you’re not working?”

“Um,” you smile as you look up, “I’m just hanging out with my dog. I bought him a bone.”

“A dog,” he nods, “your family live out of town?”

Usually, you ask the questions. It’s easier that way. It deflects the attention from you. It’s why you like the job; you can hear all about others and not have to think about yourself.

“Yeah, something like that,” you slip the wrapped box into the bag and fluff the tissue paper.

“Eh!” The loud exclamation makes you jump as the man merely turns his head, a tic in his jaw. His eyes narrow as another customer approaches, strutting with hands in his jacket pocket as he calls out, “Barber, what the hell?”

Your customer shifts towards the man, heels squeaking on the floor, “Hugh.”

“Don’t Hugh me, asshole,” the other man retorts, “you said you were busy? What’s the matter, you lose too much money last time?”

“Suzette is in town. Family dinner,” the man, Barber, drones dully.

“Ah, ditched for the old crone, I get it.”

“What are you doing here?”

“Well, wouldn’t you know it, poker night was canceled, something about not enough seats,” the man counters sharply.

“Next week,” the first man growls.

“Hey, you,” the man in the russet coat snaps his fingers in your direction, “you got some of that Acqua di Gio. That dumb girl over there said you’re sold out.”

Your brows pop up and you swallow tightly. He’s another type. The arrogant demander. He doesn’t hear no. He’ll ask everyone the same question in hope of getting a different answer.

“We are out of stock, sir, but I could order it in for you,” you suggest.

“Order in? I can just go on Amazon, thanks for nothing,” he chops his hand at you dismissively.

“Hey,” the other man nudges his chest, “be nice. She’s working.”

“What? I’m here to spend money and they got shit all–”

“It’s December,” the other man reproaches before he turns back to you, “sorry, my friend is a jerk.” He accepts the gift bag as you hold it out, “thank you. You saved me.”

“No problem, but er, I was gonna say,” you turn to the other man, “sir, I have some samples of the Armani. I could give you those while you wait for the order.”

“Samples?” He echoes, “how many?”

“Let me have a look,” you back up and go to the drawer at the back of the checkout.

“I gotta get going, miss,” the first man waves his hand as you peek over your shoulder, “have a happy holiday.”

“You too,” you chirp back and find the last few tubes of Armani. You claim them and prance back to meet the new customer at the counter, “I have five.” You lay out your wares, “if I order in a bottle it’ll be in just before Christmas.”

“Two weeks?” He puffs.

“I’m sorry, sir, that’s the earliest I can do. It’s the last day I can guarantee delivery before Christmas.”

“Talk, talk, talk, order it,” he snaps.

“Right, let me just…” you open the shop and search up the scent. You add it to the cart and proceed. “Alright, got that, did you want it shipped for pick up here or to your address.”

“Here, they can never fucking find my house,” he sniffs.

“Great, so when it arrives, we’ll give you a call. You’ll also get an email to confirm.”

“What’s going on here?” He points at you suddenly. You look down again at your sweater but don’t see anything amiss. You flinch as he reaches to pinch one of the pearls, “what is this?”

“Oh, I… my sweater,” you raise your head, swallowing down the insult. It’s cute!

“Huh, Walmart clearance, huh,” he scoffs, “alright, how much are you robbing me for?”

He reaches into his coat as you hit total. You read out the final amount but he doesn’t pull out a card; he hands you cash. You count the bills, twice over, then give him his change. He looms with impatient huffs.

“Here’s your receipt,” you hand him the strip of paper. “Have a good day, sir.”

“Mmm,” he pokes his tongue into his cheek as he shoves the receipt into his pocket, “actually, while I’m here, I’d like a new sweater. You can help me and I’ll show you what real quality is.”

You almost laugh. Not spitefully, it’s just a bit silly. He’s competing with you, a perfume pusher.

“Well, sir, I can point you towards men’s fashion but I’m not able to leave this department, I’m sorry,” you give a sheepish smile.

“Oh no, good girl wouldn’t want to break the rules,” he rolls his eyes, “goody goody and her precious little smile.” He hooks his thumbs in his pockets, “my shit better be in by Christmas.”

He twists and strides away. You watch him go but not for long as you’re quickly distracted by a customer looking at the Britney Spears collection. Those are easy sellers.

#andy barber #lloyd hansen #ransom drysdale #dark andy barber #dark lloyd hansen #dark ransom drysdale #dark!andy barber #dark!lloyd hansen #dark!ransom drysdale #andy barber x reader #lloyd hansen x reader #ransom drysdale x reader #knives out #the gray man #defending jacob #au #multicharacter #multifandom #fic #dark fic #dark!fic #series #three for one

[kining-the-evil]

Im now accepting age regression fics request for the following fandoms!(only sfw)

House md

Heathers

Scream

Agents of Shield

Agent Carter

Knives Out

Avengers

#house md #house md x reader #scream #scream x reader #agents of shield x reader #agents of shield #agent carter x reader #agent carter #knives out x reader #knives out #avengers x reader #avengers #age regression fics #request #heathers (1988) #heathers(1988) x reader