I’m sorry for the delay in replying. I wanted to have a bigger collection for you since I only started reading gravebone fics two nights ago. But this might take a long while. So here we go!
The first three are incredible, btw. Please please read these if you try any at all. The manner of writing, characterization, flow of words - it’s just magnetic. I Felt Your Shape is the first fic that I read and you will understand why I am so enthralled with this ship after reading it. Possibly one of my favorite fics in general. Black Noise is just- enthralling, my god, I never read second person but this is not the same at all. And Such As Is Common to Man portrays original!Graves and I never thought I would want that but it is beautiful and soft and desperate; I think perhaps it’s the most imploring story? I love it so so much.
I Felt Your Shape by th_esaurus
Graves gets to his knees. His palms slide down Credence's shoulders, to his chest, and Graves rests his head against the boy's thin belly, one ear to his stomach." There is nothing dangerous in you," he says. "Nothing at all." He sounds—disappointed.
black noise by softboy
It's terrible, it's wicked, it's awful, awful bad, but you kiss him right then on his quivering lips and claim yet another part of him you had no right to. He drinks you in like salvation and the terrible man you are, you make him think that's exactly what you're offering.
such as is common to man by imochan
He wonders if this Graves can do that too, the thing that the other one did, with his hands, where he could wash the burn of old cuts away with a brush of his fingers. He wonders if this Graves would cup his face too with those big hands and whisper in his ear and if it would feel differently, to receive that kind of softness, to feel that soaring tremble in his heart, if he knew that this Graves needed nothing from him and still reached out to touch his skin.
A New Incentive by reserve
Mr. Graves dabbed at his lips, and his other hand gently held Credence’s face steady, his thumb nearly tucked into the corner of his mouth. Credence could almost taste the salt on his skin, the napkin fabric felt far too rough. He was acutely aware that his body was reacting far too keenly, that he felt overly primed to sin gladly.
Before I Knew by th_esaurus
"Mr. Graves," Credence said, even quieter this time. He stopped for a moment, and Graves stopped with him, kindly. Credence felt very aware of his cracked, dry lips, rough from the cold in his mother's attic. "What if I asked of you something you cannot give?"
Guidance by brittlelimbs
The third time Mister Graves kisses him, it’s on the wrist, over his bandages, and Credence can’t stop crying.
pray for love. by dogbites
Rough, callused hands draw circles between his shoulders, traces the spurs of his bones from shoulder to spine to hip - he plays Credence like a fiddle, each touch yielding a different note, a different pitch. Graves touches him like a precious thing, like fine china,
untitled by drawsaurus
Sometimes Graves presses his ear to Credence’s bare chest, as though he could listen to it thrashing about inside his ribcage, and asks him how it feels. Credence shrugs, falters. It hurts less than when she beat me, he says. Or maybe I just notice it less.
