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Say My Name

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He had no idea how hard it was. It wasn’t as though doing menial chores wasn’t out of his league. Guts was taught to pull his own weight like a man ever since Sys died, and he did the best he could under Gambino’s stern eye and a smack upside the head every now and then. Some of the lady nurses who came to the camp would help him here and there, especially when he was younger, but other than that if he wanted a clean shirt, unsoiled sheets, and dinner that evening, Guts had to work and fight for it himself. So as much as he preferred swinging a sword, Guts could wash a shirt. It was just hard knowing that he would be doing work for two because…

“Casca, no!” the high-pitched voice of Puck chimed out, waving his hands around in vain as Casca, long-haired and wondery eyed, gulped down the rest of the roasted fish. Puck sighed. “That last one was for Guts.”

Shaking his head in a mild manner, Guts rung out the soiled robes that would garb Casca, as clean as they would be after her “accident” from earlier. He was thankful that she wasn’t on her menses just yet, but he honestly wouldn’t have been made to be embarrassed to do the intimate task of bathing her from her womanly flow. It was simply a task he had to do, and it put things at ease with Casca cooperation while he bathed her (even if she was fussy about the chill of the winter water). But the fact that this would be their new normal, how their lives would be from now on – or at least until they got to this Skellig Island, to the paradise known as Elfhelm that Puck went on about.

As he walked out of the river toward their camp for the night, he glanced over at Casca, who made fast work of the fish he managed to catch. He never recalled Casca having such an appetite, unless she was acting the modest woman of mystery when she was in front of her comrades. Seeing that Puck was still flustered by Casca’s greediness, Guts intervened.

“I don’t mind,” he said simply as he arranged the robe over the fire. He didn’t mind, but he could admit to himself that he was growing some hunger pangs.

Puck pouted on Guts’ behalf. “But you need to keep up your strength, swinging that sword around all night and all! Haven’t you noticed there’s been more ghosts and spirits around…?” As Puck went on to meticulously explain the peril Guts already knew was ahead of them for the night, it just added to the dose of reality he was feeling. This would be their new normal. Of course, he loved Casca, wanted to be near her, had renewed his vow to protect her to the end. But that all seemed so much simpler two years ago, when all of this hadn’t happened, when she still was capable of fending for herself. Doing the work of two wasn’t going to be easy, but he knew it was doable… somehow. If just until they found their way to Elfhelm. Until then, he just had to cope the best he could with this.

As he closed his thoughts on his strategy, he glanced at Casca again, who was diligently licking the juice that was left on her fingers. An innocent enough act to make Guts smirk but dissipating at the sight of her slender digits in between her lips, still appearing soft and sweet as he remembered them to be. It made matters worse that the fasten to his cloak was loosening from her movement.  “Hey,” Guts approached her, kneeling down to her level and coaxed with his calm voice, “keep the cloak on, or you’ll get col -,”

His fingers shifted his cloak a bit too much and in the wrong direction, exposing her breast to the cold air. Guts stared a bit too long at the sight, until he was prompted out of his daze.

“Do you like what you see?” Casca asked. Her tone wasn't sultry, but she exuded enough enticement for Guts to take a hint of her playfulness.

“Uhhh,” Guts fumbled on his tongue. He could answer honestly, but even he would feel like the idiot, like that smitten teenage boy Isidro. Guts instead blushed and darted his eye away. “You’ll get cold like that.” Those words little more than a peep, and Guts blushed even more knowing Casca still had eyes on him.

But then Casca glanced to the side, smirking as she remembered that they weren’t alone. “Puck,” she said, “I think that fish was a bit off… would you mind looking for some ginger to settle my stomach?”

Is he really going to buy it? Guts wondered with a slightly faltered face. It’s the middle of the –

“No problem, Boss!” Puck replied diligently. “I know just where to find some too! Will take a bit of digging, though…”

“That would be perfect. Take your time,” Casca said sweetly but sincerely. Once he was off, Casca turned her attention back to Guts.

His eyebrow was raised at seeing Casca’s ploy. “That was devious of you.”

Casca raised her eyebrow in return. “I didn’t see you stopping me. Besides, I think he knows better.”

“You -,” Guts began to wipe the flecks from around Casca’s mouth, “ – don’t know the little squirt like I do.” His thumb stayed after doing its job of cleaning Casca, softly caressing her.

“I think I’ve traveled with him long enough to know that he’s a pleaser,” she remarked, stroking Guts fingers in kind and bringing a sweet caress to his arm. Her movement inadvertently caused the cloak to uncover her breasts fully, and Guts couldn’t help but glance between her lips and her buds.

“I never took you for someone who needed so much pleasing,” Guts teased. But Casca took it a step further. His hand was suddenly on her bare thigh, Casca having guided it there.

“Only where it counts.” Her devious smirk returned as she motioned Guts’ hand up her thigh and toward her center. She didn’t need to give anymore guidance, Guts rubbing her inner thigh closer and closer until his fingers had reached her folds. Before going further, Guts gave her that look that demanded certainty, and Casca warmly responded with a hearty smile. He was glad to get her consent, because he did not want to bother with the small stuff first.

He moved swiftly and his mouth had good access, thanks to his kneeling and Casca’s sitting on the rock. Beginning with short but sweet pecks to her folds, Guts descended into fully clasping her folds with his lips before dipping his tongue deep within her. Casca began arching her back and soon rested her legs over his shoulder so that he could access her deeper, sighing long yet softly as he licked her to content, pecking the eves of her thighs with a kiss every so often to startle Casca’s sensations.

Guts knew that she could only arch back so much before growing uncomfortable on the rock, so he made careful haste when lightly gliding his tongue over her nub while his hand kept her steady. Casca couldn’t refrain from moaning at this point as he continued to lap around her nub over and over – even his hot breath helping to tease her to fulfillment – but she kept her voice low enough to not draw attention to Puck if he was nearby.

“Ahhh…” she moaned but didn’t continue with any sort of demand. He knew what she would want – and that was for him to continue for as long as he could. He didn’t want to keep her on the rock so he licked her once more before ending with a long drag from her folds. Casca might have taken this as a sign that they wouldn’t be proceeding further had Guts not risen to her lips to kiss her fully, letting her taste her own cum. Casca blushed, but it wasn’t just from the erotic gesture Guts gave her.

“Wait, why would you - ”

“Why not?” he wasn’t demanding, but things were getting heavy and there was no sense in stopping the momentum.

“I have fish breath,” Casca admitted with an uneasy giggle in her voice.

“Count this all as payback for eating my share,” Guts snarked as he began undoing the ties of his pants, still damp from the river but his loins still yearning to feel the wet envelop of Casca. As soon as they were off, Casca took no time sliding off the rock into his lap and readily wrapped her legs around him. Guts was taken a bit of guard but managed to position himself from sitting on his knees to his buttocks, and before she knew he was comfortably inside of her.

They could have started off slow and Casca could have foregone the cloak around her shoulders, but knowing Puck could comeback at any moment – empty-handed and fuming or with a bushel of surprises – time and concealment was of the essence. Casca grinded against him, keeping steady with a palm against his chest, but not minding letting her hand wander up and down his lattice of muscles. With only one full arm and hand to work with, Guts allowed Casca to do most of the movement, but his good hand still preoccupied the time with her ass, caressing her cheeks after moving from the small of her back. He might have had one arm but he was still strong enough to bring her body crushing against his, allowing him to feel those soft breasts and curves against his torso.

While she worked her hips against him, picking up the pace, Guts squeezed Casca left cheek, eliciting a moan from his lover as his fingers ventured into her divide to feel her slit. Her body provoked her to spread her legs wider so that his member could fill her to the hilt. With his limited scope and movement, Guts continued his groping, rubbing her inner labia, even brushing against his own member a time or two. Casca was doing fine work but Guts wished he could do more. In hindsight they should have done this against a tree.

Regardless, he felt himself coming; Casca was enjoying herself as well, her arms laced under his to grasp and claw his broad shoulders, her face nuzzled in the crook of his neck where he could hear every airy moan parting from her lips. Given the limitations, in that moment and in their future, this was all that matter.

He dragged his groan as his seed spread inside her, Casca’s body tensing in her own climax before relaxing and drawing her hips to a halt. She leaned her body back, one arm propping her up, and this allowed him to peck and lick her breasts and nipples, rip and dewy. Once he was satisfied there, the two clasped in an embrace, their tongues as deep inside the other just as his member remained deep inside of her. Guts’ good arm supported her back while his hand was woven in her longer tresses, as her own hands meandered across his back in security. It was awhile before they decided to breathe again through parted lips, and they gazed at each other with dazed but satisfied eyes.



Before he could open his mouth again, he hesitated and he didn’t know why, for what he wanted to ask was such a simple request, but he felt that the answer he would receive would make this moment end – and that scared him.

But still, he needed to ask.

“Could you… say my name?”

She smiled in that bashful way that made him yearn for her more than he could already. “Guts.” It was soft and serene, so much so that it made him tremble in delight. And it wasn’t enough for him.

“Say it again.” He said in a demanding but no less sensual tone.


Their lips edged closer. “Again.”


He blinked at the voice that was no longer hushed and feminine, but rather the squeaky tone belonging to Puck. Guts was also no longer entangled with Casca in his lap: he was kneeling in front of her while she sat on the rock, good hand on her shoulder. His lips parted as to ask her what had just happened, but Casca gave the same reply, that same dreaded response she always gave him before he could speak and make a fool of himself.


“Guts! What’s the matter with you? You just zoned out for a minute there…”

He had to ignore Puck for a moment to collect himself, his mind having fragmented in two spaces of time. Not the same as Casca’s shattered mind, but he was seeing himself in two places at once, in a double reality. Guts gulped as he let the essence of what he just experienced sink in.

This is going to be our new normal now.

How often was this going to happen, these lapses, altered realities that could have been, should have been? He was seeing Casca now as she was before and how she should have been had the Eclipse not happened. But it wasn’t that, as he was still damaged with only one eye and one arm, and they were both still branded. Guts wasn’t sure of these particular desires stirring in him, how they differed from his typical longing for her, the sort he felt during his absence from the Hawks. He just hoped that nothing dark was on the horizon. Things couldn’t become bleaker than they had been for so long.

As he covered Casca’s nakedness, an endless task it seemed, he motioned to her mouth, this time in his own lucidity. As he finished wiping the crumbs off her face, and he almost didn’t notice that he again lingered too long, this time on her lips that were still soft and inviting, waiting to utter those words to him.

Yup. Just like our old days.