Eddie Munson X Goth!NonBinary!Reader

Eddie Munson x Goth!NonBinary!Reader

Prompt: Eddie has slowly but surely become obsessed with your makeup routine. Now it’s time for him to join the fun.

Request: Yes but I already had it in the works. Just made me get it finished. For @sprizzaic

Pronouns: They/Them [fem aligned readers DNI]

A/N: I had this idea before but when I saw this post I knew I absolutely HAD to write something for it. The Eddie brainrot is real, he’s all I can think about. Also I’m aware that a lot of trad goth makeup used straight up white foundation but goth is for every complexion so you’re not wearing that in this fic. :)

TW: Nothing!

The sun was beating down in the summer heat of Hawkins as you sat in Eddie’s trailer. A cracked mirror before you presented your reflection; bare faced and fresh from the shower. Mixes of your clothes and his flooded the carpeted floor, only parting in certain instances to make a path. A smile passed your lips as you watched your boyfriend lazily strum his guitar, relaxing on the bed.

Both of you were excited for the night. Your plans consisted of going to a concert in Indianapolis, then grabbing some late night pizza, and crashing in the back of his van before driving back home in the morning. It wasn’t going to be cheap, but he always made it work for you.

Makeup sponges and wipes littered the small table you sat at, using some of Eddie’s (most likely) dirty shirts as a cushion. You began to start your makeup — although you never needed a reason like a concert to go out with black eyeshadow.

Your boyfriend’s gaze followed as you focused, messily applying some foundation. He usually wondered how you always seemed to know what you’re doing, just having a sense of where to put everything. Eddie moved his guitar to your side of the slightly-made bed and readjusted, his torso now near the footboard.

His reflection in the smudged mirror made you smile. “You act like you haven’t seen me do this about half a million times.”

“I know, but I like it. Seeing the process and everything.”

He smiled when you rolled your eyes, his hand slowly creeping up your back to make swirls and outlines in the wet hair that ran down your neck. You had been looking forward to the concert forever, and now it was finally time.

He watched as you focused on your makeup again, using your fingertips to pack on some gray and black eyeshadow. The dark colors in the sockets made the whites of your eyes seem a bit more vibrant. A familiar feeling of slightly rough skin reached the back of your neck as your partner moved the damp hair aside.

“Man, come on, I gotta look good for the concert. I gotta focus.” You laughed.

He smiled, stretching off the bed to rest his head against yours. You found his arms beginning to coil around your shoulders, like a snake slowly beginning to strangle its prey. But this was more genuine, more loving. Something about the way the sunlight hit your face during golden hour was like out of a painting. Through all of the excitement, it was still nice to have something peaceful.

“You always look good. So damn good. It’s, like, I’ve never seen somebody as good as you when it comes to all of this.” He mused to your reflection.

Despite the distraction of your wonderful ‘helper’, you continued on. A black liner pencil sketched out the design of your eyebrows before being filled with mascara to match; blending in the hair to make it seamless. You used the wedge to pick up some more color for the shadows in your cheeks. The way your pink tinted lips were practically begging for a quick peck, which was always a wish granted.

Time and practice had brought the skill of being ready in under half an hour. With the final touches, you took a last look at the now finished makeup.

A smile passed Eddie’s lips as he began kissing at your neck and jawline, making obnoxious kissing noises in your ear as he did so. Though a regular occurrence, you couldn’t help but laugh and take in the moment. Mixes of music and whatever Wayne had on the tv flooded your senses, along with the ever present hint of weed.

It was perfect.

Your boyfriend’s soft brown eyes began to glaze over in thought, his nose pushed into your neck.

“Eddie Munson, are you getting shy all of a sudden?” The taunt in your voice drove him crazy.

Instead, he just pulled away and returned to his spot on the unkempt bed. Said mattress groaned under the added weight as you climbed over top of the main occupant, straddling him in the process. Droplets of water ran down your shoulders, some falling on the sheets, others falling on Eddie.

His calloused fingers tangled in the damp waves of your hair as they hung over him. “You look beautiful,”

“Mhm, is that why you’re so shy all of a sudden?”

“I’m not shy.”

An overdrawn jet black eyebrow was raised at his statement, causing him to laugh. The sun emanated from behind your silhouette, making you look like the closest resemblance he’d ever seen to an angel. Sun streaks got caught in his eyes as he sat up, one hand on the small of your back as he did so.

If this is what angels looked like, maybe heaven wasn’t all that bad.

“Could you maybe… I mean — if you want — do something for me? I’ve never really… worn makeup before.”

He could’ve sworn your eyes became more vibrant in the moment.

“Of course,”

Your position over his lap didn’t change, save for grabbing the makeup. There wasn’t much, most of it looking beat to hell after continual uses over the year. In the city, you’d have to get more; Hawkins certainly didn’t have much — save for the Clinique counters in the mall.

Eddie tried not to grin as you began to started to work, even after telling him it would mess it up. Every product you used had him curious, asking what it was for.

“Are you doing the same look on me? Do I have to paint my face white? What about my eyebrows? Wait — you’re not going to shave them, are you?”

Needless to say, it was like trying to do face paint on a child at first. The longer it went on, he found himself melting into your words and touch. It was gentle and precise, like most other things you did. Influences from his own favorite bands gave you ideas in how to shape the liner.

He was completely in love.

How you commented on his bone structure and managed to make it sound like poetry, like something he could grow to love about himself. Sweet honey words mixed with music, filling his senses: an overdose on his partner.

“Does it look good?”

“Why don’t you see for yourself?”

Eddie stood as you moved, finding his way to the mirror and taking everything in. The inner corners of the liner trailed the sides of his nose in the resemblance of a crow, as the outer edges flicked in similarity to a bat wing. His eyebrows were more arched and precise, jet black to match, with a ring of gray smoke underneath. He was at a loss for words.

“Do you like it?”

Loud claps and a few fist pumps were the only response you got. His smile couldn’t be toned down — not around you. Your arms around him just made him smile more as he pressed his head against yours. The warm breaths fanned across your face. For what seemed like an eternity, a sensation of hope formed that he would say it.

“I love you. I love you, (Y/N) (L/N).” He pressed into your lips.

“I love you too, Eddie.”

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