Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Do you want to come over and watch TV with me?

It's a fairly innocuous question to receive if it wasn't accompanied by one of those yellow winky faces. Eddie's not all that fluent in deciphering emojis but reading between the lines... is Chrissy Cunningham inviting him over to Netflix and chill ?

Huh. Well.

He doesn't know Chrissy all that well, just enough to know that he wants to spend the rest of his life with her. They met at a party through a friend of a friend. Eddie had dusted off his not often used Instagram so that he could follow her in a socially-accepted form of stalking and they'd been messaging back and forth a little between bumping into each other at friend outings here and there. Chrissy had shared a snap of a bowl of popcorn, Eddie had responded to her story with a simple Looks good, and then, feeling brave, added you sharing or that all for you? And then Chrissy had replied with her invite and that winking emoji.

Eddie's not completely dumb despite what his high school teachers may think so he changes into a clean shirt and heads over to Chrissy's apartment. It's nothing like his place: homely, and looking like a catalogue apartment. The couch has multiple fluffed-up cushions and blankets over the couch.

Chrissy opens the door, voice soft as she greets him. She is bare-faced and pretty, wearing comfy clothes. Eddie's into her usual matching eye makeup and outfit looks but this dressed down look makes him feel warm in his gut.

Her roommates out, Chrissy settles them onto the couch, making space next to her in what looks like a little cocoon of blankets and snacks she had going on, even though there's another armchair available.

Sissy Spacek stares at him from the TV screen. "I just put Carrie on, if that's okay?"

Not what he'd expected but okay.

"Whatever you want to watch is fine with me." He doesn't want her to choose something just because she thinks it will impress him.

"It's my favourite film," Chrissy says.

Definitely not what he'd expected.

"You've got a dark side, huh, Cunningham?"

"Me?"

"Yeah, don't worry, that's why I like you though."

Chrissy blushes in the lamplight and curls into a ball in her corner of the couch. She presses play on the movie.

"You can stretch out, if you want," he says. "I feel bad. I'm taking all the room on the couch. I bet you were all cosy before I came over." He feels like an intruder. His whole vibe hardly gives out cosy night in .

"No," Chrissy says. "Nice having you here. I like the company."

He's glad she's looking at the flickering TV as he feels the grin spread across his face. Chrissy lays down further into the couch and stretches her legs across his. After a minute of internal debate, he rests his hands on her legs. "Is this okay?"

"Mmm-hmm."

The tone sounds affirmative but he kinda definitely wants to make sure. He doesn't know Chrissy well enough to read her subtle cues. He gives a light knock on her leg and Chrissy turns to look at him. "Words please."

"Yes."

"Okay," he nods. "You can go back to watching the film."

Eddie watches Chrissy watch the TV. After a while, he begins drawing circles on her thigh. He watches for any change in her, but there is none. "Words?" he asks again.

"Good," Chrissy confirms.

Eddie keeps going, hands slowly moving inch by inch towards the inside of her thighs. Every so often he gives a quick squeeze, to which Chrissy answers his unspoken question with a good or a yeah . His left hand slides up to the waistband of her joggers and tentatively ghosts his pinkie over the skin there. He feels her stomach clench. He doesn't even have to ask. "More please,' Chrissy says.

Eddie glides his hand over the soft skin on her stomach in soothing motions until he feels her relax under his touch, the in and out  motions of her body as she breathes deeply. His right hand creeps deeper into her thigh until his fingers touch the seam between her legs.

Chrissy moans. "More like that."

Eddie presses harder, rubbing backwards and forwards. He uses his left hand still on her stomach to keep her pinned in place. Chrissy faces the ceiling, no longer watching Carrie being screamed at by her mother. She touches her breasts and Eddie watches as she squeezes and pinches. He keeps going as Chrissy bucks her hips against his hand and fuck - he really thinks she's going to come like this.

Except, it's not enough. Chrissy keens and bites at her lip, a frustrated crease in her brow as she chases something that doesn't come.

"More, sweetheart?" he asks.

"Yeah, yeah, yeah..."

Eddie removes his hands and pulls down her joggers to expose the down hair at the V of her legs. She's not wearing any panties. Eddie slides his fingers into the slick there and thumbs at her clit. He pushes an experimental finger inside. Chrissy arches her back until -

Eddie's fingers poke at a hard object inside her.

Chrissy scrambles up quickly bringing her knees up to her chest. Her hair hides her face as she hugs at her knees. "Oh my god."

Eddie reaches out and grips her shoulders, hopes she realises it is meant to be comforting. "Shit, it's okay, Chrissy. I don't care, I just wasn't expecting it, that's all."

Chrissy remains curled up against her knees. "I'm so embarrassed."

"Nothing to be embarrassed about," he assures.

"It's so disgusting, I'm sorry."

Eddie tips her head back so she has to look at him. Her eyes are watery and red. "First of all, disgusting is kind of my whole scene, so if you're worried I think badly of you or some shit, I only like you more, actually. Second of all, I'm the one who stuck my fingers in you without checking you were cool with it, so I'm sorry."

"No, I wanted you to," Chrissy is quick to counter. "I just forgot I... had it in there."

Eddie nods. "What is it? You don't have to tell me if you don't want."

"Um," Chrissy squeezes her eyes closed. "It's my Moon Cup?"

"What's that?"

"For, like, my period? Instead of a tampon or whatever."

Eddie leans back, thinking. "How does that work?"

"It's kind of shaped like a goblet and it's made of silicone and it, like, collects the blood? Then you take it out and pour it away. So it's not, like, all messy."

Eddie remains very still. "Chrissy, that's the most metal shit I've ever heard. I feel like I'm having a religious experience. There's a goblet of blood inside you right now?"

Chrissy nods, unsure.

"Chrissy, If you're comfortable with it, I'm going to need to see this with my own eyes."

Her eyes widen to saucers and she gasps. If anything her knees squeeze closer together. She shakes. "I'll be too embarrassed to ever look at you again!"

"Well, either way, I never want to stop looking at you," he says. "I have such a huge crush on you, Chrissy Cunningham?"

She looks disbelieving. "You do?"

"I more or less teleported here after getting your little seductive message."

"It wasn't seductive!" Chrissy protests.

"What about that winky face then?"

"What winky face?"

"The one you sent in your text!"

Chrissy finally moves out of her position, scooping up her phone from the floor and looking intensely at her messages before gasping. "Oh no, that was an accident."

Eddie's heart sinks. "It was?"

"Yeah, I wasn't asking you over to... have sex. I wouldn't!"

Eddie's the one to let his hair fall over his face now. "Well, now I'm the embarrassed one. It's cool Chrissy, I shouldn't have presumed anything."

"No!" Chrissy says, clutching at Eddie's hands. "I did want to - I do want to, but that's not why I asked you over! I wouldn't ask you to have sex with me while I'm, you know... on my period."

"Because you wouldn't like it, or because you think I wouldn't like it?"

"Both?"

"Well, I'll definitely be into it so don't worry about that. And I thought you were getting really into it too."

"I was," Chrissy blushes. "It felt good."

"It should feel good. I want it to feel good for both of us. And I think the Carrie look is hot, I don't care how much blood there is involved if you don't."

"But it's disgusting."

"Jesus, was your Mom Carrie's mom or something?" Chrissy flinches and Eddie realises he may have landed a direct hit without realising. He sighs and rubs at her hands. "Listen,  everything that happens with our bodies is normal and all the gross stuff is normal and it doesn't matter okay? The piss, and the shit, and the blood, and the hair, and all the weird noises that come out of us. Sharing all that with someone without feeling ashamed is kind of the whole point. That's what makes it feel good."

Chrissy frowns as she mulls it over. "How would we do it?"

Eddie grins. "Glad you asked, Cunningham. I could eat you out to start with your little goblet keeping everything in place and not messy. Slow start, okay. Maybe if that feels okay we can get that goblet out of you, lay a towel down on your bed and do as much as or little as you like. If you feel comfortable with it though, I would like to be the one who extricates this thing from inside of you. It's a scientific interest. Your call though."

"Okay we can start with the eating out stuff and see," Chrissy says.  Eddie will more than take that. "But, um, will you be my boyfriend after?"

Eddie fixes her with a deadly serious look. "Chrissy, we will be bound by blood. There's no way you're getting rid of me without some intense rituals involved."

She giggles and Eddie finally fixes a kiss on her as Carrie gets doused in pig's blood in front of them.

Chapter Text

“I can’t believe I’m letting you do this,” Chrissy says.

“This is the best day of my life.” Eddie says. “Mainly because the love of my life” - he nods his head at Chrissy, in case she isn’t sure he means her - “is now my girlfriend, but also because you are letting me do this.”

This being reaching his fingers inside Chrissy searching. He slides his fingers in a little deeper until - victory - he finds the hard stem and grips onto it. He gives a small pull and feels the menstrual cup move down a little as Chrissy’s walls tense around his fingers. Chrissy stands in the bathtub, one foot propped up on the side and her head in her hands, face red. Eddie stands out of the tub, marvelling at his life.

“Can I keep going, Princess?” he asks.

Chrissy’s head nods from behind her hands. 

The hand not inside Chrissy moves up from her waist to caress her back. He leans down to kiss at her neck. “Words, please. No is fine - no is good, in fact, if that’s what you want.”

“No, go,” Chrissy says. “Keep going.”

“Sure?” 

“I want you to,” she confirms.

Eddie pulls again, fingers slippery and marvelling at being so tight inside his girl. His girl! Chrissy is his girl from about an hour ago! Luckiest guy alive! Best hour of his life! And only getting better!

With another pull, Eddie is able to get hold of a firmer grasp on the cup. “Now I pinch it, right?” he asks.

Chrissy’s head nods.

Eddie pinches and with one smooth - well, smoothish - movement, pulls the cup full out of her body. Success! The little goblet sits in between his fingers that are covered in her discharge yet somehow he has managed not to spill a drop. So this is the elusive MoonCup - wow wow wow!

Chrissy relaxes in his arms and motions to take the goblet. “I know it’s so gross,” she flushes. “I can just pour it down the plug.”

Eddie pulls the goblet and its nectar closer towards him. “You mean I don’t get to drink it?” He mimes moving the cup to his lips.

“Eddie!” Chrissy squeals.

“Okay, okay,” he says in surrender and then pours the blood out of the cup and over his other hand.

Chrissy squeals again but it’s background noise as Eddie focuses on the feel of the thick, clumpy blood. Thank you, God he has never believed in, for this divine experience.

“Oh my God, Eddie,” Chrissy says, reaching for the shower head and switching it on. Eddie gives in and lets her wash away the scarlet nectar. 

Once clean, he pulls Chrissy in close, kissing at her face and neck. “Never getting rid of me ever,” he says. “We’re blood bound now. I’ll let you kiss my next broken nose.” 

Chrissy pulls back and looks at him sharply. “Why would your nose be broken?”

“Aww, looking out for me already, Princess?” He leans down and kisses her again, this time on the lips. He’s fully dressed and Chrissy naked from the waist down. He cups her ass, hands wondering, and she moans into his mouth.

“Wanna fool around some more? In a bed?” he asks. “Remember, it’s your call.”

Chrissy flushes yet again. “Let me grab a towel.”

Eddie grins.

Chapter Text

What a day of wonders: big and small! Like this: bending down, bowing, to kiss at the pale of Chrissy's shoulder, the strap of her top pulled aside. One kiss lingering, marvelling at the feel of her skin just there, never touched before by his lips, and then a second and a third quicker and in close succession, without moving his body from its reverent position.

Chrissy, meanwhile, deliberates in front of her linen closet, organised and clean-looking. Between that, and the shoulders, Eddie feels inspired to do something crazy, like run to his apartment and do his own laundry. To sit and fold and tidy away as an act of sacrifice for Chrissy before he can worship at her altar again.

(Again! Again! His mouth on her cunt not so long ago. Her thighs squeezing his head! Reaching inside her, that holy grail, that chalice of blood! Oh, how he's worshipped! Oh, how he could do this forever! Oh, how he'd quite happily die if he could never do it again!)

If only he could reach into her mind as she deliberates purposefully in front of the stacks of linen. He, impulsive, would have snatched the first towel he saw, eager to keep this show on the road. Chrissy, thoughtful, chooses a towel from the bottom of a neat pile: perfectly folded, white with a pink trim border, a CC embroidered with a floral design in the corner.

It's both exactly right and wrong for its designated task; the perfect choice. He knows, instinctually, that if he asked Chrissy if she was sure she would change her decision and pick out a boring plain dark-coloured one, so he doesn't ask at all.

He follows Chrissy and her exposed shoulders into her bedroom. She's been bottom half undressed since he ate her out on her couch and then extricated her menstrual cup from her womb or whatever woman-part where it resided.

There's a chair in the corner with a fluffy pillow and some worn clothes – somewhere he could sit! For an indeterminate amount of time! Being punished, or pleasured, or simply watching her sleep in awe! There's a candle on a dresser – melted wax, the joys! Eddie ate candles as a child and often felt overcome with the urge if they were in close proximity. One day, he'll take her to a fancy restaurant, Chrissy picking daintily at a salad, and, too bankrupted by the leaves on her plate, he’ll simply chomp at the candle between them, flame and all. There's photos stringed up on her wall – maybe one day, soon, of him too, unless his face has fused into her pillow where it belongs, making it unnecessary.

Chrissy, having folded the covers back and placing the towel in the centre of the mattress, scoots onto the bed, lying back onto the pillows. He can only stare, dumbfounded: he's so in love with this girl, man.

“I don't like outdoor clothes in my bed,” she tells him. Oh, he loves her so! He takes the statement as the command she's too polite to give (he’ll train that out of her!) and starts to strip, half hard and glad of the foresight (hope) to wear clean boxers. Normally, he'd go commando but he'd chosen his cleanest looking underwear so as not to seem presumptuous to Chrissy, although the act of putting on boxers at all was presumptuous in and of itself – all common sense would say there wasn’t a chance in hell he was hooking up with Chrissy Cunningham. Luckily, he'd never been one for common sense!

Stripped to his underwear – total nudity firmly in the too presumptuous category – he asks Chrissy: “What do you want to do? Your call, remember.”

“You already ate me out,” she says, as if he needs reminding.

He smacks his lips. Hell yeah, he did! He reaches out and squeezes her ankle once, so slim and pretty. “You didn’t come though.”

“I was close.”

“Thanks for sparing my ego, Princess.”

“I did enjoy it, I just don't really come that way.”

He climbs to sit on the bed next to her and runs a hand under the edge of her t-shirt. Her stomach flutters under his touch. “Tell me how you do come, then.”

He presses lightly against the flat of her stomach. He watches the rise and fall of her still-covered breasts in response. “I like this,” she tells him. “I like you touching me.”

“Can I keep touching you?”

She nods. Her eyes flutter close.

Eddie lies on his side next to her. He splays his hand as large as it will go; taking in as much as her skin as possible. He strokes his thumb over her belly button. He moves his hand upwards, slowly, like a creature burrowing under her tee. They both let out a groan when he reaches a breast and lightly squeeze.

“Sensitive?” He asks.

“Yeah,” she breathes out as his thumb swipes at her nipple.

“This okay?”

“Yeah, like this is good. Not too hard.”

With that green light, Eddie takes to fondling her tits gently as she squirms under his touch. Her skin is so smooth and her breasts so firm. His dick is so hard. She's making the cutest noises and her hips are bucking up at nothing.

After an indeterminate amount of time – could have been seconds, could have been forever, Eddie’s living in a state of suspended joy – and a squeeze of her left nipple, Chrissy cringes away under his touch. “Too much, too much,” she tells him.

His hand retreats, immediately, to rest on the skin just underneath her breasts. “Are they always that sensitive? Or is that a time of the month thing?”

“They get really tender and heavy before,” she says, her breathing still evening out. "That's how I know it's coming.”

Eddie makes a mental note of that. Squirmy tits = incoming period. Now that's his kind of maths. “It felt good though?” Sometimes a dirtbag loser needs reassurance. 

“Yeah, really good.” Her glazy eyes settle on him.

“Oh, really good, huh? Maybe even really, really good?”

“Really, really,” she agrees softly.

“Then, can I keep touching you?”

“Yeah, but – somewhere else,”

The grin that splits his face might actually kill him. Chrissy is looking at the ceiling rather than him.

“Somewhere else, where?”

“You know where.” Her tone is petulant.

He walks his fingers against her skin. “I’m not sure I do. You need to tell me.”

“Eddie,” she says, exasperated.

“Chrissy,” he says, mirroring her tone.

She nudges him with the leg closest to him, her thighs having fallen open in a V-shape. “Eddie,” she says again.

He gives in, obviously, with an invitation like that. Eager, his hand slides down to the centre of the V and the wet, slippery cunt there. He's already had his fingers inside of her in the bathroom but she hadn’t been this gloriously slick and dripping then. So slick he can’t even get a good purchase, his fingers sliding against the length of her. He pulls his fingers away, holding the slick-coated fingers up for them both to admire. “Fuck, you're so wet, Sweetheart.”

“Yeah,” she says. “You can use the towel.”

Eddie wipes his fingers against his boxers – a souvenir, for later, as these babies are never getting washed again – then uses the corner of the towel to dab between her legs, removing some of the excess. “That's better,” he says, then gets his fingers in there again, still wet but not flooded, and able to get purchase on his target: her clit.

He tries rubbing, and pressing, and flicking until he finds a rhythm and action she most responds to: hips keening, breathy little yeah yeah yeah, tits rising and falling yet again.  

“More,” she moans. “Please.”

He can do more. He takes two fingers and plunges them inside and she opens easily to take him. Two, then three, her walls tight around him as his thumb keeps strumming against her clit. Chrissy’s legs kick rhythmlessly, her moans a symphony to his ears.

“You're amazing,” he tells her. “You're a Goddess. I love you. I'm so in love with you.”

Why not tell her? Sure, she's been his girlfriend for under an hour but when you know, you know.

Ah, ah, ah, Chrissy keens – sings, really, to his ears – before going silent as she comes, walls contracting painfully around him: a grip on his fingers and his soul.

He keeps his fingers inside her as she comes down from her orgasm.

“Do you really love me?” she asks, tears leaking from her closed eyelids.

“Yeah,” he tells her. “Love at first sight for me.”

“Oh,” she says simply.

He kisses the tears on her cheeks. “I'll tell you everyday if you let me.”

“You make me feel really special.”

“You are special. You're a wonder, Chrissy Cunningham.”

“I can't believe you're not completely grossed out.”

Eddie smiles and leans down to kiss her: once and then over and over. “I will never be grossed out by you,” he tells her between kisses. In fact: he removes his fingers from inside her finally.

“Wow,” he says, and the blood and slick coating him. He lifts them to show her.

“Don't you dare,” she says, already understanding him well enough to know what he plans to do next.

He licks his fingers clean, every drop.