Requested: A one shot where the reader tries to help Percival Graves after he’s been kidnapped. He’s cold and doesn’t let her in which leads to him pushing her away and them breaking up. Later when he sees her out with another man he begins to question his previous decision.
I’ve never done a request before so I hope this doesn’t suck!
Warnings: smut, language
Word Count: 3,617
For as long as you could remember
you’d known Percival Graves.
You knew everything about him.
What made him tick, what made him
happy and what made him sad.
You knew him inside and out.
So, when he started to act
different you knew something was wrong. You knew he wasn’t the Percival Graves
you’d once known. Not the man you’d loved or the man you’d grown up knowing.
But even when it was revealed that someone had been pretending to be him, that your
suspicions were right you didn’t find relief.
At first, when he came back home,
you’d thought that you could get through to him. That giving him space and
attention at the right time would be enough to bring the old Percival Graves
back to you. But it wasn’t that easy… the more you tried the more he pulled
The more he pulled away.
he pulled away completely.
you both broke up.
The night that plagued your mind
whenever you closed your eyes. It was a late night, the night you broke up, he’d
come home from work and you could tell something was wrong before he walked
through the door.
You could feel it in my
You’d been waiting in silence at
the kitchen table, your eyes trained on the clock directly across from you. The
moment he walked in he kept his eyes from you, his body tense when he hears you
get up from the kitchen chair. Your hands rest along the table top and sigh
when he reaches for one of the clean wine glasses on the counter. Without
speaking a word, he grabs the bourbon and pours it into the glass, his eyes
fixated on it.
He barely spoke to you anymore.
Instead he acted as if you didn’t exist. As if you weren’t worth consideration.
Even when you got up and cleared your throat he still pretended that you didn’t
You’d said after several moments of
silence. Your eyes watched him closely before daring to take a step forward.
Your feet are quiet, but the moment your hand reaches out to touch his he pulls
back. His brown eyes move to yours as a look of frustration crosses his
His stare was cold.
“… We need to talk.”
You find yourself pleading, begging
as he his head shook in protest. Without speaking you knew what he wanted to
say next. You knew that he was going to push you away, but you didn’t expect
what he was going to say next. A string of sentences that ended it all.
“We don’t need to talk…”
He started before taking a swig of
“… You need to get out of my life.
Because I’m done pretending to love you. I’m done pretending that we still have
anything worth keeping us together.”
“I’ve taken a couple of licks, a couple of beatings,” he said. “I remember one time when I went in one day, there’s a Russian-Turkish bath house in New York that’s really brilliant that I went to one day and I was feeling, this was years ago, I was feeling really low on myself and so I got two guys to give me the Platza [oak leaf treatment] and I just kept asking them, ‘Harder, harder!’ and they beat the bejeezus out of me. They asked me to put a shirt on before I went upstairs because they thought if the manager saw the welts on my body that they’d be fired.” …