Murdoc's little crush (& confession!)
Summary: Headcanons about Murdoc having a crush on you, and after many months of obsession, he finally admits his feeling in a dramatic fashion.
Pairing: Murdoc Niccals x gn!Reader
Word count: 2k
Notes:
Ahhh, I'm now in the Gorillaz fandom! I've been a fan of them since I came out of the womb, but I recently got tickets to their upcoming tour, and now I can't stop listening to them. 2D was always my favourite, had a big crush on him as I grew up, but recently? I like the pickle man. He's just so funny. I've watched so many interviews, music videos, etc. I like him. I like that man.
I do believe these headcanons are gender-neutral, but I also had myself in mind when writing this, so if you see anything non-gender-neutral, then please give me a nudge. It's meant to be gender-neutral so all can enjoy the lovely Murdoc. Thank you x
Most people assume that Murdoc is going to be the worst person alive to date. And whilst he does have a record of being an absolute cunt, he really straightens up when somebody actually likes him.
His past relationships have been one-sided. Murdoc likes them. They’re tolerant towards him. Maybe money is involved? He’s never had pure, unfiltered, healthy love before.
Truly healthy. No strings attached. You’re there for him, and he’s there for you.
It takes Murdoc a while to pick up on things. He automatically assumes that everybody who he comes into contact with, is into him. Still, he knows what rejection looks like, so if you’re not showing clear signs, then he won’t bother.
Murdoc is very visual. He likes looking at you. Maybe you’re busy with one of his band members, going over a song that they’re currently working on. Murdoc can’t help but stare across the room at you, bangs resting on his lashes, hoping that it hides his gaze.
And if you do notice, he’ll look away. Maybe not at first. He might flash you a smile before his gaze trails down to his notebook, full to the brim with notes and doodles.
Sometimes, Murdoc will be playing a simple riff, something to fill the air whilst his band members focus on creating their new sounds. That riff is a distraction, making him look busy whilst his eyes secretly wander over you.
He just likes looking at whoever he’s pining after.
Murdoc is also eager for validation. Physical is fun, but that’s usually sex. Verbal, however? To hear you compliment him, whether that’s his bass skills, personality, image, etc. That makes his poor heart ache!
Let’s say you compliment whatever outfit he’s wearing that day. Murdoc will wear that as much as he can, without looking suspicious. There’s only so many times he can rock up in the same turtle-neck, and despite what people assume, he keeps clean.
If anything, Murdoc improves whenever he has a crush. Clean clothes, tidy room, shaved and maintained. He wants to impress.
Murdoc becomes quiet whenever you’re present. Despite his bold personality, he’s an anxious man. All that blabber? It’s to fill the air. He doesn’t enjoy silence, so if nobody else is going to fill it, then he will.
But when you’re around? Quiet. Hush hush. He wants you to speak. Please speak! Say anything, even if it’s talking to his band members, rather than him. He wants to hear your voice.
Whilst Murdoc is quiet around you, he still talks. He’ll offer you a cigarette, a joint, his jacket when it’s cold, a drink after the day is over. He always pays whenever you go to the pub, pulls out your chair for you. He makes you question why everybody has beef with him, since he’s so sweet and tender towards you, despite his coat collar being raised, covering his expression half of the time.
Really, Murdoc does not come across as this ‘horny devil’ that everybody describes him as.
Murdoc enjoys giving you the odd gift. Nothing over the top. Chocolate that you’ve previously mentioned that you enjoy, or a cheap bouquet of flowers from the corner shop, picked up amongst some other snacks and whatnot.
“Thought these flowers matched your eyes, honey. Don’t think too deep into it. Just tryna do somethin’ nice.”
Sure. A nice bouquet that he spent a fiver one. He’s not rich, not skint, either. Still, a fiver is a fiver - money that could go towards his cigs, but he spent it on you, instead.
When you speak to his other band members about him, you’re usually met with a deep sigh, and some ramble about how irritating he can be.
“I have respect for the guy. Gorillaz wouldn’t be the same without him, but Murdoc? He can be insufferable. A real thorn in your side, you know?” Russel sighs.
But Murdoc isn’t like that with you. You’ve seen his softer side.
2D can’t tie up his own shoelaces, so Murdoc does it every morning.
Murdoc used to read Noodle bedtime stories, despite their language barrier, and has even fallen asleep with her cuddled up to him, a true father figure, or crazy uncle?
Murdoc was also there for Russel when he was exorcized, and whilst he will always miss Del, he told Russel that he only wants what’s best for him.
Besides, Murdoc is funny. He has this strange, bold, raunchy humour that never fails to make you laugh. You binged every single Gorillaz interview that you could before becoming their band manager, and Murdoc never let you down, despite his outrageous comments.
When the heating was broken in the studio, everybody had to keep their coats on. Seeing Noodle in her oversized windbreaker, attempting to play the guitar, was rather funny.
But you didn’t bring a coat, just a jumper, not knowing about the broken heating.
Murdoc insisted you wear his. “Can’t play bass with it on, anyway,” he excused, followed with a shrug.
It was warm, the faux fur collar wrapping around your neck. You kept it on all afternoon, even in the car when he drove you home. You always get dropped off first, then the band goes back to their shared house.
You noticed Murdoc shivering every so often, and pushed for him to put his coat back on. “My long sleeve suits me just fine,” he refused.
“You are literally shivering,” you pushed.
“Nah, they’re just tremors. Miss the booze, you know? Can’t wait to go pub after!”
Funny guy. Silly excuse.
When Murdoc did finally get his coat back, he didn’t put it on, instead taking it straight up to his room. Murdoc questioned if he’s insane as he sniffed the garment, your scent laced within it.
He slept with his coat on his bed for a week after that, sometimes waking up with it in his arms.
Murdoc calls himself pathetic. “Down bad, or whatever the kids say,” he mutters to himself in the mirror.
Sure, this little crush has improved himself. (It’s far from a little crush.) He’s now neat and tidy, well groomed. He even bought a new aftershave, a small something to try and show that he’s not this slob that people think he is.
Well, he was.
But his desire for you is eating him up. He can’t keep questioning if you’ll like his outfit as he puts it on for the day, or if you’ll pick up on the lovey-dovey lyrics that he catches himself writing.
“This is so sweet, Mudz,” you compliment, peering over his shoulder as he scribbles down some more lyrics in his notebook.
He didn’t know you were there, rather alarmed from your sudden presence, and that you’re reading the lyrics that are actually about yourself.
“Got somebody sweet in your life then?” you ask him, and Murdoc can’t answer. He lets out a hum as his lips purse, avoiding your gaze.
You back track. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to hit a nerve, or intrude, yanno?”
Murdoc waves his hand. “You didn’t,” is all he can reply. He flicks to a random page with notes on it, picks up his bass, and starts strumming.
Awkward, you were hoping that’d be the moment.
You’ve known all along. Noodle picked up on it first. That’s one of the men who raised her, and ever since you’ve come along, he’s suddenly all prim and proper. Yeah, she notices.
Then it was Russel, who one-day realised that he’s not had to patch up 2D for a while. He’s usually been hit by a shoe by now, or got into a scrap over something. Murdoc’s been keeping his cool, but why?
Can’t be seen doing all that. Besides, this was his wake-up call. Murdoc needs to keep his cool, and hey, 2D isn’t so bad. Why torment him like that?
2D took months to realise. “Why are you writin’ all this lovey-dovey shit?” he questioned as he read through Murdocs lyrics, left out on the table as he made himself a cuppa.
“Isn’t that what people want? Love songs and all that?” Murdoc defended, trying to play it off.
“Why do you think he’s been writing lovey-dovey lyrics, hm?” Russel asked 2D, and after watching the cogs turn in his head… nothing.
“I don’t get it,” 2D sighed with defeat.
“Because he has a thing for our new band manager,” Noodle intervene with a giggle, and Murdoc instantly jumped on the defensive.
Clenched fists, cheeks turning red, he pulled out everything excuse he could think of. There was no point trying to defend himself. It’s as clear as day, even to 2D, who was chuckling, reassuring Murdoc that it’s alright.
“Yeah, this little crush of yours is cool. Means you’re actually having a bath, for once,” Russel chimed in. He was being genuine, despite holding back a laugh.
Murdoc grabbed his book and stormed off. Thank fuck you weren’t there to see all that, but then again, they wouldn’t have boldly told 2D if you were present.
When Murdoc does finally decide to confess his feeling, after months of torment, he does it in the most dramatic way.
He knows where you live, he’s been in your apartment before. Murdoc has a car, so why did he walk? In the pouring rain? Briefly enjoying the dryness of the Underground, despite how dingy it can be.
Murdoc shows up at your front door, sopping wet, his hair partially slicked back from where he’s tried to keep it off his face. He’s soaked, face barely lit up from your porch light in a dark winters evening.
You try and invite him in, but he cuts you off. “I just need to know, alright?” Murdoc blabbers. He’s staring at the ground, averting your gaze. He can’t look at you, preparing for rejection.
“What are you going on about?” you question, eager to get him inside, out of the cold and rain.
Murdoc pulls his notebook from his pocket, and flicks to one of the many pages full of soppy lyrics. “They’re about you,” he sighs as he pushes the book into your hands.
Your eyes meet a random line, ‘I'm caught again in the mystery. You're by my side, but are you still with me?’
Sappy lyrics. Lovey-dovey. Page after page. Some are desperate, some are cringey, but all are scribbled down with desperation, like Murdoc has to get them on the page now, else they’ll escape his mind.
You let out a soft laugh as the raindrops begin to land on the page. “Idiot,” you mutter, and finally, Murdoc looks at you, rather offended at your insult. “I’m trying to get you inside so I can put you in some warm clothes, and cuddle with you on the sofa.”
His furrowed brows relax, and he lets out a confused chuckle. “What?” is all he can respond, unsure if he’s hearing your words right.
“I know it’s about me,” you say as you shut his notebook. “You’ve gone from writing about war and pollution, to… love songs? All in the space that I met you? Of course, it’s about me!”
“And you aren’t mad?” Murdoc questions, desperate for something - validation, rejection, maybe a confession from you?
“Well, I think the political stuff suited the band better, but why would I be mad at you for having a crush on me? It’s mutual, you know. Now would you come inside already? You’re making me cold, keeping me out here. Dramatic as always, Murdoc.”
All Murdoc can do is laugh to himself, finally following you inside.
You stop in your tracks, hand on the front door, and turn back to him. “Oh, I need a new bouquet of flowers, by the way. The last ones you got me are wilting.”
Murdoc smirks. “Noted, my dear.”
Was there any need for all that? Drama queen.