#I hope she's able to smack some sense into Griffith in the canon timeline

[marblemoovt]

Stay - Griffith/Ashe(OC)

Masterlist

Rating: Explicit (Smut)

Word Count: 5k

Warnings: Fluff with some reverse hurt/comfort. Smut, Oral sex, Fingering, P in V sex. A bit of a praise kink. Dirty talk. (Let me know if I'm missing anything)

Summary:

When Guts leaves, Griffith is distraught. He seeks comfort in the only other person who is hurting as much as he is. Guts's sister, Ashe.

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She rips the door open and meets the gaze of an equally startled Griffith. His fist hangs in the air before dropping to his side. 

He rushes forward and embraces her. Cold and wet fabric sticks to her skin. Griffith is shivering, raindrops dripping from his pale locks. “You’re still here,” he mumbles, arms squeezing her in disbelief. A shaky breath shudders near her ear, and she turns to look at him, freezing at the unfamiliar expression on his face. “I thought…” —his throat bobs— “I thought you left.” There’s a pause that leaves the sentence feeling unfinished.

Note:

My first commission!! Ashe is an OC that belongs to @maid0evil; thank you so much for the commission! She was so pleasant to work with and honestly quelled a lot of fears I had about writing commissions for people. Check out her blog or message her if you want to know more about Ashe!

Here's some helpful background info: Ashe is Guts's younger twin sister and she is an apothecary, a person who makes medicine and other drugs. A healer/pharmacist essentially. She also has the skill set to do spy work.

This is enough to read this fic without getting too confused, but here's a post with all the details about Ashe.

Happy Reading! ヾ(•ω•`)o

─── ⋆ ｡ﾟ☆: *. ☽ .* :☆ﾟ｡⋆ ───

Quiet. Their—her—house is quiet. No longer will she hear the repetitive swish of metal cutting through the air. He’s not in the backyard anymore for her to scold when he overworks himself. The drawer full of bandages and ointment is now bare. Ashe refused to let her brother leave without it all. 

Now she feels empty. Half of her is missing, leaving a gaping hole that aches with longing. Guts asked her to go with him, but she couldn’t. Ashe’s place is with the Hawks. She told him as much. These people have become her family, and they need her. Her brother can take care of himself now. She reminisces over the days before he hit his growth spurt when she used to tower over him. When she protected both of them during those nightmarish times.

It was hard to watch him go, but the determination in his eyes…. When Guts told her his reasons for leaving, how he promised to return once he could proudly stand beside Griffith, who was she to stop him? So she sent him off from their house with a forced smile. Ashe couldn’t bear watching him leave the town, so she remained inside. That was until she heard the clashing of swords.

Grabbing a bag containing basic medical supplies, she ran to the source of the commotion. She nearly slipped on the frost-covered path when her heels dug into the ground. Someone caught her by the arm to steady her, but her focus remained on the ongoing fight. Griffith and Guts were fighting, and Ashe recalled a memory from years ago. But this time ended differently.

Griffith was left stunned on the ground as Guts turned around and left. Ashe’s lips still sting from when she bit down on them then. He didn’t look back or say anything to her, and she understood why. So she returned inside, unwilling to give him a reason to stay behind. The tears didn’t start flowing until the door clicked shut and the latch locked into place.

She doesn’t know how much time has passed since then. Currently, she’s curled up in a fetal position on the bed, waiting for the sharp pain in her chest to ebb into a dull ache. Moonlight filters in through the window and bathes the room in silver, the only indicator of how long she spent holed up in her room. Ashe shuts her eyes, but the colour induces brief images of a particular general to flash through her mind. Because the walls inside are thin, she can hear when someone knocks on the front door. But she ignores them all, weighed down by the desire to do nothing. And so she listens to the knocks, cries herself to exhaustion, and the cycle repeats until only the chirping of cicadas remains.

Another knock on the door. She remains in bed like usual. The knocking repeats itself after a few beats of silence, more persistent than before. Ashe drags herself out of bed to salvage what’s left of her front door before it’s torn off the hinges. Her stride quickens when the sound becomes frantic, and the creak of abused wood follows. She rips the door open and meets the gaze of an equally startled Griffith. His fist hangs in the air before dropping to his side. 

He rushes forward and embraces her. Cold and wet fabric sticks to her skin. Griffith is shivering, raindrops dripping from his pale locks. “You’re still here,” he mumbles, arms squeezing her in disbelief. A shaky breath shudders near her ear, and she turns to look at him, freezing at the unfamiliar expression on his face. “I thought…” —his throat bobs— “I thought you left.” There’s a pause that leaves the sentence feeling unfinished.

Ashe shakes her head. “My place is here with all of you,” she reassures him. “I love my brother, but he needs to figure out his own problems.” 

“You won’t leave?” Griffith asks in a meek tone. Ashe has never heard him speak like this. What happened to the Griffith that was always certain about everything? Where did that confidence go? She licks her dry lips when she thinks about how it was probably cut down alongside his sword this morning. Caution must be taken to not agitate Griffith further. He looks like a skittish puppy ready to bolt at any sudden movement. She doesn’t know what he’ll do if he storms away from her. 

“No. I’m staying,” she answers. “Now come inside; you’re freezing.” Right now, the safest place for him is somewhere she can keep an eye on. Just until he recovers from the shock. Ashe guides Griffith to the small sitting room by the fireplace. The embers are dying, so she adds another log and stokes the flames. The fire crackles as it consumes the wood, embers dancing across the small stone stage. She retrieves a spare blanket and wraps it around his trembling form. She doesn’t have any extra clothes to offer. Anything Guts left behind would be too big, but it might be better than nothing. Amid her thoughts, Griffith surprises her by raising the fabric and patting the empty spot beside him. Ashe sits down, and he wraps the blanket around them, draping one arm around her shoulders. 

She shudders slightly at the cold contact, leaning into him to share her body heat. He rests his head against hers, an intimate gesture she never thought she would receive from him. “When Guts left, I thought you would leave with him.” Griffith glances at the window, a crease forming between his brows. “My apologies. I know it is late, but I had to make sure.” When he notices her confused expression, he adds, “I had to see for myself whether you were gone.”

Ashe purses her lips in silence before eventually asking, “Why?” Sure, they’ve gotten closer, but she knows her role could be easily replaced. She understands that everyone here is working for the sake of Griffith’s dream.

“Why indeed?” Griffith muses to himself, picking up a lock of her hair and thumbing it between his fingers. He raises the strands to his lips but drops his hand before they make contact, staring at her like how he stares at a map when planning a battle. “Know that I do not trust just anyone to poison me.” And Ashe is taken back to that night. The night he entrusted his life to her. The night he swept her away on the ballroom floor. The same night she made the startling realization that she sees Griffith as more than her superior and that they can never be more. 

“I’m still surprised you asked me to make and swap out the poisons,” she admits. He entrusted her with his life. The ratio of the poison was fatal. If she didn’t dilute the mixture correctly, the dose would have induced him into a complete-death state instead of near death. One mistake by her was enough to kill him—permanently. Yet he still explained his plan and asked for her help. Guts was the only other hawk who knew of his intentions. 

So Ashe concocted the poison with deadly precision, paying attention to the minutest detail. Griffith placed his faith in her, a privilege not given to many. She would ensure not to betray it. Swapping the poisons was the easiest part. All it took was for Ashe to feign ignorance when bumping into the waiter and act like one of the many naive women attending the ball. The man was too focused on her neckline to notice her deft fingers switching out the bottles. 

Shortly after, Griffith asked her for a dance. It was an excuse to escape the horde of women surrounding him and to inquire about the swap. She’ll never forget how close he was that night. One hand was placed around her waist, and the other holding her hand as he gracefully led her through the dance. They floated across the ballroom floor. Griffith’s steps never faltered, each twirl and turn as confident as the last. 

Occasionally, Griffith would lean in and whisper. He didn’t ask outright about the plan, but they danced around the subject. After the third or fourth time, Ashe could no longer ignore the goosebumps rising across her skin. Griffith’s warm breath tickled her ear, and she found it hard to respond accordingly to their conversation. There was the undeniable urge to run from this foreign feeling, but her desire to remain by his side won. 

The entire time Griffith only paid attention to her. His eyes, which usually carried an unmeltable frost, warmed when meeting her gaze. When Griffith complimented her dress, she failed to return the sentiment, tongue twisted by embarrassment. Griffith only smiled at her lack of a response, and her heart beat so loudly she was afraid the entire room could hear it battering against her ribcage. Ashe didn’t even notice the song was over until Griffith drew back and bowed, kissing the back of her hand in farewell.

Even though she knew beforehand, nothing could prepare her for witnessing Griffith fall. She watched as he accepted the glass from the waiter and took a sip, collapsing a few seconds later. He truthfully looked dead, and despite her knowledge, she was having a hard time believing he wasn’t. Suppose she miscalculated and made the dosage too high. What if she did kill him? She would never forgive herself. Everyone rushed to Griffith, but Ashe could only stand rooted to the ground, weighed down by guilt and mortification. She still remembers how her palms stung as her hands balled into fists. Guts scolded her light-heartedly later as he bandaged her wounds.

Ashe is brought back to the present when she hears Griffith’s voice. She didn’t realize how tightly she was clenching the blanket.

Griffith places his hand over her fists, and they lose their tension. “I am glad I did.” He smiles at her, a rare smile that reaches his eyes.  “You played a vital role. It would not have gone so smoothly without you.” The confidence in his words shakes her. How is she supposed to respond when he looks at her like that? As if she’s the most significant person in the room?

Ashe clears her throat and flits her gaze to the hallway. “I’ll find some of Guts’s spare clothes for you to wear. You can sleep in the guest room tonight.” She stands up to leave, but Griffith’s arms wrap around her waist, and he presses his forehead against her stomach. Ashe hesitantly pats his back, softly saying, “I’m not going anywhere.”

Griffith chuckles; a bitter and dry sound fills the room. “Forgive me, but I am having difficulty believing you. How am I to know that you will not try to leave like Guts?” he asks, arms snaring her in his hold. Like prey trapped in the coil of a snake, she squirms but stills when the pressure tightens. As a gentle reminder, she squeezes his shoulders, and her lungs can breathe again. Griffith doesn’t let go, much to her bewilderment. Would her absence really matter to him? Or is it only because her brother left first?

Ashe already decided to stay, which she’s told Griffith several times. But he just doesn’t seem to get the message. “Everyone here still needs me. Besides, Guts will come back. He didn’t intend to leave forever. Once he finds a dream of his own and can proudly call himself your equal, he’ll return,” she reminds him. At Griffith’s silence, her brows knit together. “Didn’t he tell you that?” she asks, although she already deduced the answer from his reaction. 

“His own dream? My equal?” Griffith chuckles in disbelief, his shoulders sagging as he leans against her. Startled, Ashe straightens up to support Griffith's weight. 

“Idiot,” Ashe mumbles under her breath. Leave it to Guts not to explain things to Griffith. No wonder the duel shook Griffith up so much. “Guts overheard a conversation you had with Charlotte at a fountain,” she explains. His body stiffens, then the arms around her waist go slack. 

“So he did not leave because he wanted to cut all ties with me?” Griffith glances up at her with wide eyes. He takes a deep breath, and it comes out as a sigh. “I am… glad.” The smile on his face wobbles like a taut string pulled in opposite directions. And eventually, it snaps. Ashe catches a glimpse of his misty eyes before he buries his face into her lower abdomen again. His shoulders shake with silent cries, and she bites her lip, unsure how to comfort him. So Ashe does what she would do if it were her brother. She gently strokes his head and speaks in a low, soothing tone. 

“Guts wants to be your friend, an equal. He told me that he’ll return once he finds his own dream. You two can have a proper conversation once he’s back.” She cradles him close to her body,

“And you?” Griffith’s voice is muffled by her shirt, but her excellent hearing picks out the words.

“What about me?” She plays with a lock of his hair. The fireplace and window cast shadows of orange and silver, like a dance between fire and ice. A delicate balance of push and pull where one side does not entirely consume the other. Griffith’s hair glows in the moonlight as if it holds the ethereal light.

“Will you remain with the hawks, or will you eventually cave in from the absence of your brother and follow his footsteps?” he asks. Judging by the tone of his voice, it doesn’t seem like he’s considered other outcomes. 

Ashe grimaces. “Why do you make it sound like those are my only options?” She flicks his forehead lightly when he looks up at her again. “I’m a human being with free will, Griffith. I’m not limited to the two choices you’ve presented.”

Griffith chuckles, “I did always admire this quality of yours. You see humans as nothing more than that. Human. No Gods or superior beings. Human.”

Ashe hums and takes in his ragged appearance. “I think you need some rest.”

“You did not answer my question.”

She sighs, “But I did, multiple times. You just never believed my answer.”

Griffith stares into her eyes, holding his gaze for a few seconds before looking away. “Perhaps I am starting to,” he whispers.

Ashe guides him to the guest room, promising to return with some spare clothes. While he’s no longer soaked, he’s still damp and can easily catch a cold. She makes a detour and grabs her medicine bag. Knocking on the door, she waits for confirmation to come in. She enters when there’s only silence, worried something terrible has happened to him.

Griffith is still in the room, half-dressed. His shirt falls to the floor, and their eyes meet. “I-I’m so sorry!” she apologizes, slamming the door shut. She buries her face in the clothes she’s carrying and lets out a scream. Luckily the fabric does a decent enough job at silencing the sound, but she doubts Griffith missed it. The hinges of the door creak open, and her back straightens. “I also brought you some medicine in case the rain made you sick,” and she hastily shoves everything into Griffith’s arms before rushing back to her room. Ashe pauses in her steps and mutters a quiet “goodnight,” the burn on her cheeks spreading across her body.

The sky rumbles, shaking more droplets out of the clouds as they beat on the roof tiles. At least the storm provides some distraction from the chaos plaguing her mind. She curls up in her bed again, confused and embarrassed. Ashe doesn’t know what to do with her feelings; bury them? Will she end up like Casca? Forever pining after a man who will never look at her the same way? But she’s noticed lately that Casca’s gaze has been slowly redirecting towards someone else. 

Thunder growls outside, and she shuts her eyes and imagines that her brother is here to keep her company. But the more she pretends, the larger the ache grows. Loneliness is a relentless beast. Once it sinks its teeth into you, it’s hard to shake off. It claws into your chest and carves your insides until you’re hollow. Quiet gasps leave her trembling lips as she struggles to hold in her cries. The tears burn and leave hot trails as they soak her pillow. It takes a few minutes for her to notice that not all the noises are coming from her. Besides the storm howling, another set of sobs fills the house. Ashe can pinpoint the guest room as the source.

She exits her room, wrapping her blanket tight around her shoulders. Heading to Griffith, she knocks on the door. The crying stops, and footsteps shuffle close. Ashe loses all function over her tongue when she sees him. Red-rimmed eyes and a complexion paler than usual. He sports similar tear tracks to hers. He also stares in silence, taking in her dishevelled appearance. 

“I’m sorry to bother you. It’s just… I… the storm—can I stay the night with you?” she stutters, wrangling her words to form a coherent sentence to no avail. “The storm is loud, and I’m not used to dealing with them alone.” Ashe avoids his gaze, fidgeting with her fingers. She hopes he doesn’t think of her as a child for being afraid. The loud noises bring back memories she would prefer to never think of again.

Griffith nods and steps aside to let her in. Ashe enters the room and sits on the bed, leaning her back against the headboard. She hugs her knees to her chest and watches him hesitantly sit beside her. A slight draft breezes through the room, and Ashe wraps the blanket tighter, clenching her teeth to prevent them from chattering. Another blanket drapes over her, and her right side is pleasantly warm. She turns her head, sucking in a breath at how close Griffith is. He’s pressed against her, and she can feel his hot breath tickling her face. 

“Thank you,” he says. 

“Don’t worry about it. Guts should have told you why he was leaving,” she responds, shrugging. 

“Well, that too. But I mean thank you for staying… by my side.” Griffith smiles, and Ashe can no longer tell if the drumming in her ears is the thunder or her heartbeat. “If I had known the reason, I would have told him I see him as a friend. Your brother is the only—no, he’s one of the few people who can rival the importance of my dream,” he confesses. 

Ashe lifts her head, mouth running dry. One of?

“But at least you are still here,” he says, looking down at her fondly. “I never thought we would have so much in common.”

“Griffith, what am I to you?” Ashe asks. He stares at her again, trying to decipher her.

“I would say a friend, but you are much more special than that.” Griffith frowns as he contemplates. “I cannot call you a comrade or any similar title. None of them express what I feel.” He hums, mulling over the thought. “…A partner, perhaps?” he whispers, staring at her with wide eyes. Ashe leans in close, and his gaze flickers to her lips. “May I kiss you?” he asks. 

She laughs breathlessly, “Yes, please.” He cradles her face and kisses her languidly. His hand slides down and cups the nape of her neck, pressing her closer to him. Griffith trails down her jaw and along her throat, chuckling when he hears her gasp. He runs his tongue over her pulse and grins when she tilts her head back to expose more of her neck. When he moves on to her collarbone, Ashe places her hands firmly on his chest. “Wait,” she says. “I want to please you first.”

Griffith smiles softly and strokes her hair. “Not to worry, we will get to that.”

But Ashe shakes her head. “No. Let me lead for once,” she insists. He bites his lip but relents. “Sit back,” she commands. Griffith leans against the headboard and removes his shirt, lifting his hips when she tugs on his pants. The lack of undergarments is a surprise, but her face flames when she remembers she didn’t provide him with any.

“Your expression is adorable. Is this your first time?” Griffith jokes, but his jaw slackens when she bashfully nods. “You should have told me sooner,” he says. It comes out harsh, and Griffith softens his tone. “If I knew earlier, I would have gone to further lengths to ensure the best experience possible for you.”

Fuzzy warmth blooms in Ashe’s chest. She licks her lips and glances down between his thighs. “It’s alright, Griffith. Please tell me what to do,” she says, trying to ignore the red pendant dangling around his neck. But the damn thing stares at her. “If it’s not too much trouble, could you remove your necklace? It’s… distracting.” Ashe doesn’t want to admit that the inanimate object is creepy since he wears it constantly.

“Not the most romantic accessory, is it?” Griffith smiles and removes the necklace, setting it on the bedside drawer. “Let us start with something easy. Take your hand and stroke slowly. Make sure not to squeeze too hard,” Griffith instructs. Ashe wraps her hand around his cock and gives it a few experimental pumps. She pulls away when he hisses through clenched teeth.

“Did I hurt you?” she asks, observing his expression.

Griffith shakes his head, chest heaving with shallow breaths. “No, dear. You were doing wonderfully. Please keep going.” So she resumes stroking, gliding her hand up and down his shaft, watching as the head of his cock swells to a dark red. Spurred on by Griffith’s sighs, she swipes her thumb across the small hole at the tip, smearing precum onto her hand. Ashe glances up, meeting Griffith’s hooded gaze. “Use that to ease the friction.” She marvels at how easy it is to move her hand once it’s slick. 

The tip of Griffith’s cock continues dripping, and Ashe’s tongue darts out to lick along the slit, curious about the taste. He groans, hips bucking into her hand. “Did you like that?” Ashe asks, noticing the heightened sensitivity around the front of his cock near the tip.

“I loved it. Do it again,” he commands, and she carries out his orders, lapping and stroking simultaneously until she’s drowning in his musky scent. A salty tang coats her tongue, but she doesn’t mind the taste. When she glances up again, Griffith’s head is thrown back, eyes shut tight. Ashe feels his cock twitching in her mouth. “Love, I need you to stop. I will not last if you continue,” he begs. 

Ashe furrows her brows and draws away. “Don’t you want to climax?”

“Not yet. I want you to lie down first,” Griffith says. So she lies on her back, shuddering when her nightgown is pushed up and the night air brushes against her exposed skin. He parts her legs and plants a kiss on her inner thigh. “A gentleman always returns the favour.” His boyish grin sends a jolt that sparks a flame in her lower abdomen. 

“Griffith—I…..” She can’t think of anything to say, fixated on how she can feel his breath against the damp fabric of her undergarments. 

“Is this too much for you?” He pauses and waits for her answer. 

There’s a heat in her body that’s begging to be soothed. An ache that lingers and drives her mad with every passing second. “No. It’s not enough. Please touch me,” she says.

“As you wish.” Griffith pulls down the fabric to unveil her glistening cunt. A heady musk fills the room, and he dips his head for a taste. He licks a stripe through her folds, lapping the arousal dribbling out of her entrance. 

“Griffith,” Ashe moans, electricity tingling through her veins. There’s a sudden hunger for more. She wants him to douse oil on the fire raging inside her and become consumed under his touch. Something flicks her clit, and she yelps in surprise. Ashe glances down to see Griffith circling his tongue around the throbbing area, never touching the center. She shudders when one of his fingers probes her entrance, sliding in slowly.

“That’s it, love. I can feel you squeezing around my finger. You can take one more. I know you can,” he says, adding another digit inside her. She groans at the slight burn from the stretch, bucking her hips when he resumes teasing her clit. He curls his fingers, wagging his tongue over the swollen bundle of nerves. Ashe feels something building in the pit of her stomach, a swirl of energy that grows stronger and threatens to swallow her whole. “You are doing so well for me. Let go. Let the pleasure consume you.” She climaxes at his words, feeling the waves crash and roll off her body as she grinds against his face, babbling incoherent pleas for more.

Griffith slows down, moving just enough to trigger the aftershocks that spread from her core and ripple through the rest of her body. He places soft pecks along her puffy lips and removes his fingers, licking them clean. She watches his tongue through hooded lids, remembering how they looked between her thighs earlier. A throb surges to her cunt, and she clenches around emptiness. Griffith chuckles and pets her clit gently with his thumb, the rest of his fingers splayed on her lower abdomen.

“Ah! Not there!” she cries out, jerking away from his touch. His hand pins her to the bed. The pleasure teeters on pain, but her body aches for more. 

Griffith shushes and strokes her thigh. “I will be gentle. I am starving to taste you.” Ashe shudders and avoids his gaze. The flames beneath her skin blaze on her face and neck. He hooks his arms underneath her knees and tugs her to the edge of the bed, where he’s kneeling on the floor. “Oh? Did my words excite you? How cute.” He doesn’t waste any time digging in. His tongue feels different from his fingers. It doesn’t reach as deep, but her cunt still greedily sucks him in. 

He occasionally praises her, telling her how delicious she tastes. But her mind is foggy, and most of the words never reach her. All she can focus on is his mouth around her clit and the obscene slurps that fill the room, mixed with Griffith’s groans. He draws out another orgasm from her, not as intense as the first one. He takes great care in slowing down and drawing out her high.

Ashe sighs, head buzzing as her vision refocuses. “I’m ready,” she says.

“Ready for what?” Griffith taps his cock against her clit and grins when she shivers. “I cannot understand what you mean if you remain vague.”

If her brain was functioning normally, she would be upset. But she writhes her hips, and her eyes nearly roll into the back of her head when she comes in contact with his cock again. “Please make love to me,” she begs.

Griffith rubs his cock between her folds, lubricating himself with her arousal. “Let me know if it is too much, and I will stop. I want you to enjoy this.” He lines himself up with her entrance and eases in. Ashe sucks in a breath, releasing it with a hiss. The burn stung more than when he used his fingers, but it was bearable.

Ashe watches as his cock disappears into her inch by inch. She feels him rub against her walls until he’s buried deep. “More,” she pleads.

“Whatever you desire.” He pulls out and slams back in, hitching the air in her lungs. He repeats the process, waiting in intervals until the next thrust. “My dear, you should see the mess you are making.” His laughter fills her with warmth. Griffith cups one of her breasts, brushing his thumb over her hardening nipple. “Forgive me for neglecting such beauty.” He lowers his head to suckle and nip, overwhelming her with stimulation.

Ashe rocks her hips to increase the rhythm, eager to feel the head of his cock brush against that sweet spot inside. “Fuck, Griffith,” she whines. She can already feel the pressure in her stomach about to burst. 

He slows down, and she almost cries, fingertips digging into his shoulders. “Lie on your side, dear. I promise it will feel better,” he says, guiding her into position. He lies beside her, and his blue eyes are breathtaking up close. His cock slips into her, and he sets a regular pace this time. The repetitive stimulation is enough to bring her to the brink of orgasm. Her walls clench hard, and he grunts in response.

“Griffith….” She can’t say anymore, head empty as the throbbing of her cunt climbs rapidly. 

“I know, love. You are taking me so well, such a good girl,” he coos, bringing her into another kiss. She cums with a wail, walls spasming around his cock, milking him. The tight knot in her stomach snaps and unleashes a tidal wave of pleasure that drags her underneath into its depths. Her clit throbs in tandem, and a rush of wetness pools between her legs, earning a loud squelch with Griffith’s next thrust.

When her cunt stops fluttering, Griffith pulls out and strokes his cock, spilling his release into his hand. Only the sound of their ragged breathing can be heard. He exits the bed, fetching a damp cloth from the bathroom and wipes her body. A trail of kisses follows, her skin trembling at the slightest touch. He is more careful when cleaning between her thighs, murmuring into her shoulder about how well she did. Ashe allows her body to sink into the bed, watching Griffith return to the bathroom to clean himself.

She doesn’t know how much time passes, but the mattress dips beside her and a kiss is pressed on her forehead. “Sleep, and we will discuss things in the morning,” Griffith says, covering her with the blanket. Ashe nods, and her eyelids droop. Strong arms pull her closer, and she snuggles into his warm body.

Maybe she should thank Guts for leaving.

─── ⋆ ｡ﾟ☆: *. ☽ .* :☆ﾟ｡⋆ ───

End Note:

I thought I would struggle with the smut, but something happened and my fingers were flying across the keyboard lmao. Something about Griffith providing oral sex just does things to me 😳

Ngl, after writing this, I kinda want to write more Berserk stuff. I did have an idea for a Guts smut so.... 👀 It involves a waterfall.

Anyways, I love Ashe. I think she's a very interesting character. I don't know much about canon post-Eclipse so I'm curious how she affects the story. I'm honestly interested in seeing what maid0evil comes up with! Please check her out if you're also interested :D

If there's anyone else who would like to commission me, send me a message and we'll work something out!

I'll see you guys at my next hyperfixation! (。・∀・)ノ

Reblogs are appreciated!

Taglist: @lovecats123451