I’ve been working on this for a month. It only took that long because I kept pausing it. I get bored man. But anyway! My passion project, some very shit overall headcanons. For my oc but I figured it wouldn’t hurt to post it. It’s short at times, sorry
I like Ace. Shut up Ik his is long as shit.
Gorillaz x Band Manager!Reader (plus Ace)
Character/s: Murdoc, 2D, Russel, Noodle, Ace
TW: nothing
Type: hcs, fluff ig
Summary: gorillaz members x their smexy band manager (you)
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Murdoc
He's probably the one who started your relationship tbh
He's like, very into you. He doesn't show it all the time, but he really respects how much you deal with because of them.
Especially after he sees you managed to keep the band afloat during and after plastic beach, especially with the kidnapping thing
Tells everybody he's the person who makes the music videos and makes the collabs work, but knows you're the reason other celebrities haven't killed him or something
Not strictly a Murdoc thing, but the amount of fines you've faced due to them getting in to harms way, especially him, is diabolical.
Swears up and down most of them weren't his fault.
Gets hard when he sees you working on paperwork at your desk or just working hard in general he genuinely can't explain it
Gonna include this for everyone, but when ur having a lazy day or just a break, he’s dragging you to the Winnebago. You’re vibing doing nothing at your desk? You can vibe and do nothing in the Winnebago, now come on.
2D
Thinks he started your relationship but you did, he just wants to think he did when you bring it up.
Worries about you a lot, manages to get you to take a good amount of breaks. He is VERY persuasive
When he can't convince you to take a break, he heads out and comes back with your favourite drink or snack.
Feels really bad when he sees you working on any fines you got due to them, offers to figure them out for you. He doesn't know how to.
Not to mention he hangs around you a lot, always either rambling off with some story or being so quiet you forget he's there. It’s rarely in between.
When you don’t have a lot of work on some days, those days are spent with him in his or your room. He’s always sat close by you if you’re not cuddling in bed, or he’s in and out of the room getting you tea or snacks.
Russel
Always keeps such a good eye on you, lowkey has a spider sense for when you’re overworking or something.
When he catches you doing too much, he pulls you away. Not physically, but he finds a way to convince you.
He is very persuasive
Actually does your work for you sometimes, like when you're sleeping or just away, you come back to filled paperwork or sent emails. He’s the only one in the group who knows how to do it besides you
You've tried to tell him he doesn't need to do all that, but he insists you need a break
Tries his best to force the others to act right to avoid giving you any more work. Doesn’t really work unless he holds Murdoc by the back of his neck like a rowdy kitten
On days when you’re overloaded with work, he forces you to take a break while he does the rest of the work you couldn’t, but if you tell him you wanna do it he reluctantly agrees.
Even on your shared lazy days, sometimes you catching him sending your emails in his spare time. Like it’s sweet of him but come back to bed.
Noodle
Had a crush on you when she was a kid, cringes so bad when anyone mentions it and how it might be weird now that the two of you are together
Some days it really gets to her and she thinks she’s weird for it or gross, so it’s best to just comfort her. It’s obvious when since she kinda dials back on physical touch, especially in public. But won’t deny anything from you.
Thinks she's very lucky to have actually pulled you since she fully expected you to reject her feelings
Teaches you some Japanese for fun, doesn’t really give up but doesn’t go strict either. Depends on how bad you wanna learn.
On days where there’s no practicing or filming or anything band related, she doesn’t let you leave bed until she does, which is usually around 10am or later if she’s feeling lazy. Once out tho, she’s taking you to like, an arcade, maybe. Or just lounging in bed with her and watching some random movie. Doesn’t let you near your laptop or work desk to attempt and do your job on these days
Might be the only person in the band who LETS YOU DO YOUR JOB. Only offers a break when she sees you’re actually starting to run yourself off your feet.
Ace
Met you when he was replacing murdoc, and immediately starting thinking about your future wedding
He was smitten at first glance for sure
Like, hearts flying around his head and everything
The gang didn’t hear the end of it, like Ace would go on and on about you, from your eyes to your hair to like, everything. At one point he complimented your height and some of them had to leave the room.
You liked him, he didn't do any stupid shit that gave you problems (less than the others at least). So you started dating
He's out of the band now, but still visits the studio near every day. You live with him, you come home to him and everything. But he always misses you too bad, so he visits. It's starting to piss Murdoc off since he's distracting you from doing your work.
The band isn’t mad about him sticking around, only Murdoc sometimes.
He’s as clingy as a stray cat you fed one too many times.
Like in his visits, he’s sat on your desk watching you work, probably has a small bag of chips that he’s eating and getting crumbs everywhere. Either he’s sat, or he’s made room to lay on your desk with his feet swaying behind him while he watches you or talks to you.
Has yet to be kicked out, somehow. You’ve legit seen Murdoc with smoke pretty much shooting out of his ears because ace STILL hadn’t let you work, let alone left. Plus he leaves a mess almost everywhere he goes and you’re not the one who cleans it.
Crumbs. Crumbs fucking everywhere. Either crumbs or the sticky residue of soda on the wooden floor.
Lazy days happen almost 4 times a week, not really by choice. He stops if you genuinely complain though. But the band is grateful you manage to get all your shit done once he’s gone or asleep. Everyone thinks you’re superhuman for that.
Murdoc x GN!Reader, CONTAINS SFW AND NSFW CONTENT. I will mark when NSFW starts, 18+
SFW
- playing with his hair is his weak spot~ please play with it, especially when he's sleepy or sad
- He argues a lot but can’t stay super mad for too long, he doesn’t want to loose you! He can argue and storm off, but then an hour later he’s cooled off and his arms are back around your waist again like nothing happened.
- he will pull you into his lap when he can, and he would run his hands underneath your shirt, his rough calloused hands leaving goosebumps in their wake~
- POSSESSIVE AS HELL. Once you’re his, he wants nobody else to touch you ever. Typa guy to pull you away from strangers at a bar, or announce, “This guy is bothering you luv?”
- I feel like, as much as he flaunts his ego and stuff, he still gets insecure about his looks sometimes. Like staring at himself in the mirror at night. So please remind him you think he’s handsome and lovable
- Pulls the “Yer just too good for me Luv… I’m just old n sad. You deserve better” shit, shut him up w a kiss please lol, he would love it
- Doesn’t want to really make your relationship public, like media-wise, mostly because he doesn’t want Gorillaz fans to bombard you, or try to take you away, or to try and steal him away
- If somehow through the grapevine his father Sebastian & brother Hannibal found out, he would not want them anywhere near you, he’s opened up to you about his childhood a little and you understand his view and respect it
- If you have an okay relationship with family, he would be a little on edge about meeting them, but with some convincing, he would probably go with you to meet them
- Low-key feels like he would be scared of an affectionate lover at first, but over time would start to crave gentle touches more than any drug. His family was never really like that, so it's hard for him at first, but he slowly gets addicted.
- Secretly doesn’t mind being the little spoon with his lover, he wants to protect you, yet also to feel protected & loved himself
- Likes hearing your heartbeat, so he knows you’re real and not just something he made up.
- He didn’t care for visitors in jail, unless it was you. He was glad you still loved him even locked up. He never stopped loving you. Practically crushes you in his arms when he gets out of jail.
- He misses you deeply when he’s gone or if you’re gone. To the point that if you’re able to go on tour with him, he will bring you. Even if you don’t care for the actual concerts.
- He acts as if you annoy him around others, but in reality, he doesn’t actually mind you and your actions & talking
NSFW
- type of guy to grab your ass as he walks by. Not hard tho, he is an ass man lol. He will in public too unless you straight up tell him bluntly to knock it off
- More on the dominant side, but can be more submissive when he’s sleepy or drunk.
- Low key doesn’t mind if you take control when he’s sleepy/shitfaced, theres a lot of heavy panting/grunting and “I love you” while you ride him
- Enjoys giving and receiving oral, loves it when you push his head against you, or pull his hair when he’s between your thighs. Or he will tangle his hand in your hair and guide you as you suck his cock. Not against you giving him a rim job either lol
- He’s canonically Bi, so I feel like he would like being pegged, not too often tho.
- He's LOUD being pegged tho so try not to do that when people are around
- Into voyerism to a point (ergo fucking in bathrooms n stuff *cough, Paula*)
- Not a fan of degrading much at all, past “slut”
- man loves hickeys, he wants people to know you're his. Also loves receiving them, loves knowing you love him enough to leave marks.
- He’s a biter to soooo, he may leave some teeth marks, i don’t think he would bite hard enough to bleed tho
- I’d say he’s against anything pain-related too, except maybe a spank or two
- probably has some toys, but nothing too crazy. I can imagine him wearing a cock ring or something
- He might just lie on top of you and fall asleep, cock still buried inside you
- Not really an aftercare guy though sadly. He’s used to people leaving after they fuck :(
- Sooo sometimes if he was really fucked up he’ll say smth like “You’re still here? Fuck luv~ your bloody perfect” when he wakes up n sees you still in his arms~
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.”
contains/tw: fem!reader, lots of swearing, Murdoc has a soft spot on reader somehow, mention and use of drugs, reader is a dealer, Murdoc is alcoholic and also a doctor (lmao), blood, unprofessional medical procedure, suggestive and nsfw, mention of SA from the past, hurt/comfort, praise kink, fem! receiving oral pleasure, fingering, missionary sex with h*nd-holding (why is this list feels never ending–)
English is not my first language so sorry for the mistakes in advance!<3
song recommendations while reading: Stylo, Spitting out the Demons, Every Planet We Reach Is Dead, El Mañana, On Melancholy Hill
Minors DNI!
A familiar, loud car noise hit your ears as you were literally running for your life because of some guys who weren’t very satisfied with your company. Now and then, it happens that people are trying to kill you. That’s how life was for someone who was dealing with the expensive kind of pills. The sight of Murdoc Niccals’s black Chevrolet Camaro lit up your face, as the mentioned vehicle just drifted in right in front of you. The wheels screeched as a window pulled down from the driver’s side.
“Get in, you fuckin’ bastard!” Murdoc yelled at you; his raspy voice was even more annoying when he was totally mad. And he was, in fact, totally mad at you right now. You sprinted to the door and jumped in his car, leaving the door open as he began to drive. Gunshots hit the car’s already bullet-hole-patterned side as you were trying to protect yourself from getting hit.
“Fuckin’ hell! You’re fuckin’ insane! An insane, dumb bitch you are!” He continued to swear at you, stepping into the gas to the scene as fast as possible. His speed reached over fifty miles an hour, and the door was still open. You sat up, gripped the driver’s seat back to reach out for the knob so you wouldn’t fly out of the car, and closed the door with a relieved sigh as you noticed that the guys chasing you slowly got left out of sight.
“Fuck! I didn’t think I would make it this time!” You took a deep breath. In the meantime, you began to crawl between the two front seats to sit beside Murdoc. It seemed obvious he didn’t like your maneuver.
“The fuck are you doin’?! Stop squirmin’!” He barked, and you mocked him by repeating his words with a forced raspy voice. At last, you successfully moved to the front seat. The sight of you making yourself comfortable just so easily made Murdoc go fucking nuts, leaving him groaning something ugly under his nose.
“Would you die if you were just a little bit nice to me?!” You complained, squeezing your side. It hurt like hell. You weren’t certain that a bullet got you, but you sure as hell bled a lot. Your clothes were soaked with your dark red fluids, no matter how much you tried to put pressure on them.
“Nice to you?! Ain’t no bloody soul woul’ be nice to you after ‘is!” He spat while he was still driving at high speed. He tried to take a look at you from the corner of his eye. He may not seem like it, but his worry was genuine. That was the reason he came for you in the first place.
He fiddled with something in his door pocket until you saw him picking out a cigarette, and lit it up with the car’s built-in lighter. He took a deep inhale from the nicotine-filled stick by holding it in between his thumb and index finger, keeping his other hand on the steering wheel. There was something damn hot about him smoking, especially when he was even frowning while doing so. At that moment you didn’t risk asking for a cigarette yourself. It was almost like bringing up McDonald’s to your mama right after you got three F’s at school. Only the turned-on radio made a sound in your atmosphere and kept you awake. Even silence with Murdoc Niccals sounded like a scolding. He took another look at you, and this time he noticed the spreading red stain on your shirt that you were desperately squeezing. He bit into his cigarette hard, letting out a muffled swearing, and he stepped on the gas to go even faster. He had a flat a few miles away, and you had to keep your consciousness somehow. You searched in your pocket to get your phone, to start a round of the snake game you always played when you were bored. Now, it was because you had to keep your mind busy instead of dying in your weird situationship’s car. Your legs were shaking and your teeth shivering from the anxiety, due to the fear of death. Only then you did feel Murdoc’s hand over your knee, giving it a reassuring squeeze. He didn’t say a word for the rest of the ride.
You arrived at Murdoc’s flat somewhere in London, which you’ve rarely been to before. The small apartment was somewhat familiar; perhaps that was because you were over once or twice while being totally drunk or high on drugs to just have a good shag and leave. You couldn’t navigate yourself through the house alone; you had to wait until he locked the front door. You kicked down your shoes by the door and took off your jacket to just drop it somewhere. It wasn’t a tidy place, but surely better than the places you were hiding around the past few days. The bloodstains on your shirt didn’t spread much more, which was promising. Maybe you’re not dying after all.
“Kitchen.” Murdoc tilted his head in the direction of the mentioned place, meaning for you to follow him there. Still pressing down on your side, you made your way to the kitchen, where he patted the top of the small dining table. “Sit on.”
Your mouth curled up into a smirk even though you never felt more dizzy in your entire life.
“Fuck, Murdoc, get a hold of yourself.”
“Shut your goddamn mouth, and pull up your shirt!” He demanded as he opened the fridge’s door to get some stuff out. Alcohol for medical use and painkillers that 2D took most of the time. Then he searched for some things on the shelves. He had an impressively huge medical box. God knows what he kept in there. You did what he told you, even so, not like you had any choice in this situation. You rolled up your blood-covered shirt, took it off and tossed it on the floor. There was dry blood on your side and a slightly open wound. It was still questionable if a bullet was still inside you. That’s when you remembered Murdoc had earned a medical degree once in prison. You weren’t sure if you became relieved or even more worried about yourself.
He gave you pills that you took without a word, while he washed his hands in the kitchen sink with a bottle of cheap vodka as a matter of sanitizing. That is definitely not the way a doctor would get ready for a procedure. At this point, it was so whatever if you’d die from blood loss or because of your crazy situationship after all, so you just tried to get along with the thought. He took a better look at you and your wound. It was strange to feel his hand on you so carefully, though it still hurt like hell. Does it always have to hurt when he touches you, even if he’s gentle? It was like the universe wanted it like this. Everything he did hurt, at least a little.
“Good news: No bullet. Bad news: I’ll stitch you up.” He announced, with a devilish smile on his face, sticking out his tongue for a second to lick through his pointy teeth. You took a deep breath. You almost cried when he was just examining your wound; you couldn’t imagine the pain you would feel when he started poking you with weirdly shaped needles. Especially if he’s smiling so sadistically like he did just now.
Before he started the procedure, he cleaned the area around your wound. Sometimes he looked up at you, seeking a reaction, any sign that you’re going to pass out or worse. But when your eyes met, you just gave him a somewhat grateful smile. He saved your life, and not even his annoying frown or asshole behavior could change that. Your hands wandered to his hips, pulling him closer in between your legs, leaning forward with your mouth so you could kiss him. You bit into his lower lip, inviting him to get passionate, and he gave in for a short while. It was untamed as always, your tongues rolling against each other angrily, as if you were trying to choke the other. His hand ran up to your cheek; the cotton ball he was cleaning you with was still in his palm. You could smell the sanitizer from his fingers for a slight moment, until he pulled himself away from you.
“You stupid cunt.” He groaned, keeping his touch on your cheek, giving it a small stroke with his thumb.
“I know.” You agreed, nodding at his mean accusations against you. You truly agreed with him. This time, you went too far, and your life will be in constant danger from now on. Maybe this is the last night you would ever see him, and maybe there’s no point for him tending to your injury. You were as good as dead.
He rolled up the sleeves of his black turtleneck to his elbows as he prepared to stitch your wound, but just before that, he gave you lidocaine through injection around the exposed skin of your waist, ensuring you wouldn’t feel a thing. A few sharp picks from the needle made you hiss in response.
“You ain’t a baby,” he mocked you, and you groaned a silent shut up, while you pressed your grip on the edge of the table. He relented, allowing you to clutch his shirt at his waist, on the condition only if you could hold still while he worked. You focused on staying steady, your eyes glued to his hands as he deftly closed the wound. The sight wasn’t pretty, yet you managed not to feel nauseous. He didn’t seem like that kind of person, but he executed each stitch with care. It might sound absurd, but you trusted him completely. You couldn’t help but wonder how hot he was in the role of a doctor.
“You’re fucking sexy like that.” You purred your words, eyes meeting his again. His frown softened as he looked at you now. He was just finished with your care, and he gave you a smirk before he cut the monofilament he stitched you up with. You asked so many times in your head how he got all this medical stuff from, but you weren’t sure if you actually wanted to know that.
“Tell me somethin’ new. Like how are you plannin’ to pay me back all of this?” Murdoc’s raspy voice stung your ears. He finished just a few seconds ago with your treatment, but a cigarette was already hanging out of his mouth. His eyes narrowed, and he blew out the smoke, waiting for your answer.
“What do you need?” You asked. Most of the time, when Murdoc did a favor for you, it wasn’t for free. You always had a pack of something for him. Pills, weed or other synthetic stuff, but not now. Not after you lost everything from a big mistake.
“There’s no use in tryin’ to force somethin’ out of nothin’. When I feel like it, I’ll kindly ask for somethin’ in return. I just wanted to let you know that you owe me your ass in advance.” He pressed the cigarette down against the ashtray on the table before he left you. “Wash yourself and go to sleep.”
–
Murdoc let you stay in his flat for a few days. It helped you with the faster recovery, since it was somewhat safe for you there. No clients of yours knew about this place, nor about him. Finally, you could sleep without your eyes being open, keeping your body and mind on high-alert constantly. Murdoc wasn’t at home all the time. He usually left early in the morning by the sounds of it, and only took short checks on you daily if you’re still alive and he doesn’t have to bury you without getting the police attention. That would cause some unpleasant explanations. On the sixth day, your wound was more itchy than hurt. Murdoc swore that if you kept touching it, he would put a cone over your head like they do for a fucking dog.
You stood in front of the standing mirror in the bedroom where your sleeping place was, pulling the long-sleeved shirt you found in Murdoc’s wardrobe up to your chest, checking out the stitched-up wound. It was healing neatly, but you couldn’t exactly be truly glad about it. Days have passed, and you still couldn’t help but wonder about paying your debt to Murdoc. The suspicious part was that he never even mentioned it anymore. Not even when he brought you food or gave you painkillers to be able to sleep. Not a word, and you started to become anxious about it.
He had a room functioning as a kind of studio. You often heard him do experiments on instruments, working out something new. It happened so when you opened the door on him, having a check on him instead of him taking a look at you. You stood by the door, your shoulder resting against the doorframe, crossing your arms. His striped black and purple shirt fits your body well. You didn’t have any shorts on, and the shirt barely hid anything of your bottom that was covered with simple black panties. The start of your thighs peeked out of the clothes. He couldn’t just ignore you when you looked like that, but in the meantime, he couldn’t ignore you bothering him while he was making music.
“The fuck’ do you want? “His finger movements stopped on the bass, as he frowned at you. Though that was only for a short time, until he saw you in that outworn shirt. Somewhat of a sinful light appeared in his eyes. The use of his words changed as well, as he continued: “Only appreciating my girls in the studio naked.”
You rolled your eyes as you stepped in and dropped yourself on the leather couch. In that moment, he decided to take a break, and he pulled out a cigarette out of pure routine, offering you one as well. It’s been a week since you barely smoked anything, and it felt like bliss when you felt the bitter taste of tobacco on your tongue. Murdoc drank scotch from a whiskey glass; you were sure it wasn’t his first round of it today.
“What were you playing?”
“Nothin’ important.” He shrugged his shoulders, sinking into the couch beside you. You both looked forward for a while, he took a big sip from his glass, consuming all the golden colored whiskey he poured for himself. You were the one who tilted your head towards him first, but wouldn’t say a word. He was opening his mouth to say something, like what are you looking at or some shit, but you preceded him with quickly crawling onto his lap, grabbing both of his shoulders. You caught him off-guard with this one, but his smirk just grew wider on his face.
“Can’t take long breaks from your addictions, eh?” His greenish hands moved to your waist, rolling up your shirt just barely a bit, so he could see your stomach and the curve of your body. He was constantly mocking you, but to say the truth, he was just obsessed with you as you were with him. His long fingernails traced lines over your side, running beside your healing wound. You leaned in, tilting his chin up with your fingers to capture his lips in a kiss. The flavors of nicotine and alcohol danced between your tongues. Murdoc drew you onto his lap, your bodies pressed together, electric and alive. You could feel his trousers tighten, his erection growing under the fabric. He moved to the couch to lie on his back, keeping you on top of him. The glass slipped from his grip, and was dropped to the floor. Your hands fiddled with his pants button and zipper, until it deftly slid down to his thighs. You leaned down to kiss him again, this time harder. As your palm rubbed against his hard manhood, he groaned in between your lips.
His thin but still rough fingers squeezed your ass, encouraging you to rub yourself against him. Your already wet cunt covered with your panties pushed to his hardening cock slowly, teasing.
“Fuck yeah, baby…Jus’ like that.” His voice was even raspier when he tried to whisper, and you loved it. But there was something that bothered you, since you sat on his lap; A foreign feeling of disgust. It was as if your hands were shackled and you could barely move them on your own. You felt your body as an empty shell, moving only by strings like a puppet, and you had no idea who was in charge of controlling you. Your stomach turned, and that is where you decided to give up, to just storm out of the small studio room, with the statement that you’re gonna go out to puke.
Murdoc watched you leave the room, sitting on the couch, with an extremely confused expression. All he did was raise an arm and take a whiff on his armpit. He was sure he had worse days with you, but you never threw up or anything. That was weird.
You were already brushing your tongue and teeth with toothpaste on your finger, because you wouldn’t use any of the toothbrushes in that bathroom, not even if they paid you money. That was when Murdoc finally came to check on you. His trousers were still unbuttoned and slightly down on his thighs.
“Wha’? Did you ge’ knocked up aside from being shot?” He asked with an evil grin as you turned off the tap. “I ain’t do free abortions jus’ to be clear.”
“For fuck’s sake, Murdoc, I’m not pregnant!” You raised your voice at him, trying to leave the bathroom, but he was still in your way, standing by the door.
“What the fuck is wrong with you, then? I don’t know what you did out there, but ever since I saved your ass from your junkie zombies, you’re worse than 2D. You acted like a fuckin’ injured baby kitten or somethin’ and in the next minute you were simply an asshole again. I know you as an asshole, you ain’t a baby kitten.”
He was right. You were a hundred times more independent and confident than you are now. Your head was a mess, you were terrified, alone and disgusted by yourself. You don’t think there was a time when you were this low.
“Just what in the bloody hell happened to you?” He asked you again, keeping himself at the door so you wouldn’t leave. No words slipped out of your mouth; only your eyes met his, it stung into his mind. He recognized the fury that your gaze held. The same anger he had carried in his eyes for a very long time. He was merely a child when it happened, but he could never forget it. Not ever.
“I had no other options.” Your lips curled into a tense smile, shrugging your shoulders. There you were. Smiling through it, even if it hurts your ego more than anything. You had no other choice but to use everything you had to survive, and you were damned ashamed of being humiliated like that. You would rather die than relive those moments.
Murdoc never hugged you sober, and perhaps he was not fully sober either right now. But still, he took you into his embrace, strangely gentle and caring. Even if it sounded ridiculous, no person in your world could share that pain with you, other than him. You knew about what happened to Murdoc back then, when he was just a boy. He confessed it to you years ago on a high night, and you weren't even sure if he remembered telling you at all. But the warmth, the usual smell of nicotine and cologne on his shirt, comforted you. You remembered how he smelled the same when he tended to your wound days ago. Everything he does hurts, at least a little, but not now. It’s an anesthetic, like lidocaine. You couldn’t help it; your hands ran up to his back, squeezing him desperately, afraid that he might pull away from you earlier when you needed him so much. Damn it, you really act like a wounded kitten. Maybe you needed this more than anything. More than that damn stitch on your side.
“You can have this flat. They won’t find you here.” He said, and you shook your head.
“Too many favors. I’m not an idiot to trust you.” The paradox between your words and actions was funny. You still nestled in his arms after all.
“Do what you wanna, die if you’d rather.” He would never admit that he wants you to be around. No amount of alcohol could manage to make him say it.
You took a moment to gather your thoughts, but like a flickering flame of a lighter, the traumatic response that gripped you was gone just as swiftly. Deep down, you were confident to pick up where you left off in the studio. You wanted him, him alone. While trust had always been a complicated word between you, it didn’t matter when it was about sex. With him, it was always fun, and it always felt right.
You went out in the kitchen, agreeing to have a few drinks together. You’ve found an old card game on one of the shelves, and it sounds fun to play just a few games. Each time someone lost a round, you had to drink from the same shitty brand of vodka that Murdoc used to sanitize his hand with. You both got a little drunk due to your unfortunate game losses. When the night reached the bedroom you slept in, your back hit the mattress. He crawled on top of you, you didn’t even notice that he didn’t even have his shirt on for a while now. The upside-down cross around his neck swung lowly, and you couldn’t resist taking it off him to drape it around your own. That playful act of yours started something wicked inside him. He leaned down, trailing soft kisses along your cheek, down your jaw, and to the sensitive skin of your neck, sending a warm shiver through you.
“Wanna make you feel good, baby,” He groaned into your ear, giving it a pinch with his messy teeth. “Do you wan' it?”
You nodded desperately at his question.
“Fuck, yes-“ You barely manage to keep your breathing steady, as he put his knee between your thighs, making sure they are spread apart nicely. Your fingers ran up to his short, black tufts, giving them a gentle squeeze as his mouth reached your collarbones, giving your exposed skin a few pecks of kisses. He sucked deep red marks around your neck, and he was careful enough not to hurt you this time. The warmth of his mouth was already enough to make you feel aroused.
“Will keep you safe n’ sound… You jus’ tell me if it’s bad.”
One of his hands cupped your breast through the clothes, while the other softly moved to your stomach. His pointy nails strokes tickled on your skin, making your tummy flinch a little each time he touched you. The yearning feeling inside you grew, making your breathing shaky. You caressed his hair with your fingers, encouraging him for more.
He understood what your wishes were. Most of the time, he would be a prick and just keep edging you until you beg, but not today; Just as he said before, he wanted to make you feel good. His mouth slowly reached down to your stomach, adjusting himself to lie on his chest against the mattress, between your legs. His hands wandered up to each of your thighs, keeping them in just the perfect spread.
“Murdoc-“ You sighed his name. Oh, it was torture not to just eat you right up now. You smiled teasingly. “Will you give me oral pleasure?”
“Will you kiss it?” He caught the Pulp Fiction reference you quoted, and you chuckled when he responded with the right answer. You nodded as you helped him pull down your panties by raising your feet upwards.
“But you first…”
“Okay.” He finished the quote and leaned forward to bury his face between your legs, finally getting a taste of you. His long tongue was insanely powerful, yet he wasn’t too rough with it. The tip of his wet muscle moved in circles around your clit, making you gasp.
“Fuck- Murdoc…” You called out his name again, music to his ears. One of your hands still held into his hair, while the other moved to the cross that hung around your neck. He watched you grab it, and hell knows why it was so sexy to turn him on this hard within a second.
The feeling of your orgasm’s edging arrived too soon. You didn’t want to finish just yet.
“I want you inside.” You sighed, and he pressed a wet kiss on your clit before he leaned away. Fucking hell, that was close. But Murdoc didn’t just do something you wanted that easily. He kneeled up, left hand still on your thighs, while the right found its way to your wet cunt, pushing his middle and ring finger into your warmth. His fingers curled inside you just in the perfect rhythm that made your hips arch. He grinned at you teasingly. “Can’t take it without squirmin’, can you?”
“Shut up–“ You bit your lower lip as you gasped. His fingers put the right pressure on the perfect spot. It was torture not to touch yourself, but in the meantime, you knew if you did it, you would cum in no time. Both of your hands gripped the sheets under you, eyes closed, and chest rising along with your moans. Murdoc’s eyes were filled with the beauty that your sight gave, making him pull his fingers out of you so he could help himself out of his boxer, and adjust his massive length to your entrance, giving your core some wet rubs with his tip. “Still on pills, love?”
You nodded, and you couldn’t help but feel a little flushed now. It was rare for you to hear him call you love, but sometimes he did when he was drunk and felt like appreciating you. Ain’t no way he’s not going to come inside you tonight. You wanted to feel his warm cum filling you up; it was as if you wanted to be his, to be marked by. So no one could ever touch you again besides him.
He rubbed himself against your clit with turning movements, and then he pressed himself down to your hole. His hips moved slowly at first, letting you get comfortable and have no problem with letting him in. He leaned forward, reclining his arms on each side of your shoulders, gripping the sheets. Your faces were barely an inch away from each other. Your lower lips touched for a minute as he pushed himself in further.
He let out a moany groan as he praised you: “Good girl. Ain’t hurt?”
Your moans were filled with satisfaction as you moved one of your hands to his arm, your fingers wrapped around his wrist as he began to move at a slow pace, keeping up a steady rhythm. The hand you held moved so he could take yours and chain your fingers against the sheets. Murdoc's lips finally met yours once again, filling the room with the sloppy sounds of your kisses. His tongue still tasted like you, and he wanted you to feel it closely. His hip movements became rougher and faster when you told him to do so. He wanted to keep it hidden that he actually liked it when you told him what to do under the sheets. He simply couldn’t take back from his ego. “Fucking hell, baby. You’re damn beautiful in my shirt, y’know?”
You squeezed his hand within your fingers lock, while your other hand slowly wandered to his mouth.
“Make it wet for me.” You commanded gently, and he looked at you with so much lust and annoyance at the same time. How dare you tell him what to do… Do it again, call his name with it. His ridiculously long tongue slid out of his mouth, moistening up your fingers just right. He even took your fingers into his mouth, imitating it as if he sucked on a dick. What a slutty way to imply how he wants to get pegged by you. You slowly pulled your fingers out of his mouth and made your way to your hungry clit. You circled your sensitive spot in the perfect way to build up your orgasm. Murdoc slowed down; he wanted to wait for you, with the idea of finishing together.
“ ‘Wanna cum to your voice. You gettin’ close, aren’t you?” His warm, groany whisper tickled your ear, and he pressed a kiss on your cheek before he attacked your lips with his mouth again. Your muffled moans made him know that you are indeed on the edge. The thrusts of his hips were confident and hard now, making your ass clap with the rhythm. A shiver ran down your whole body when you felt your orgasm reaching the top, while his seeds spread through inside you. You both moaned into each other's mouths with deep satisfaction.
“Fuck–“ You breathed heavily, and so did he, pressing his bangs-covered forehead against your shoulder. His exhaled air warmed your skin.
“You okay?” He asked.
“Yeah…I was craving this ever since you saved my ass…” You panted with a smile on your face. Your fingers were still chained together, resting on the sheets.
A few minutes later, you were in a cuddling position, smoking a joint together in bed. Your head rested against Murdoc’s lightly hairy chest. The ashtray was on his lap, and whenever you wanted to take a drag from it, he pressed the joint to your mouth.
“I think my wound split open.” You murmured drowsily. He ran his free hand down your side, tugging at the striped shirt you had on to reveal your stitched-up wound. It looked fine.
“You’ll live.” He said, letting the fabric fall back but keeping his palm resting on your waist.
“Whatever you say, Mur-doc.” You teased with a terrible joke.
“Shut the fuck up.” He had to intervene before you started cracking those terrible jokes that came with being high, so he put the joint’s end into your mouth. You laughed as you took another drag from it, now holding it in between your fingers.
“You’ve compared me to 2D in the bathroom, you asshole. I have every right to annoy you now.”
At that moment, he went silent for a second, and then jumped straight out of bed. What the hell is he doing right now? You watched him pull his pants up with a confused and slightly concerned expression. He can't exactly run away from a situationship, since it's his flat after all.
“Where the hell are you going?” You asked.
“It’s 2D.” He explained in a hurry. “I think I left him in the car’s trunk in the morning.”
It seems like you have to postpone that ‘kiss it’ for later. What a prick.
You're really good at writing murdoc as a dad. So I was wondering if you could write Murdoc's relationship with his kid while he's in prison and also when he gets out.
ᓚᘏᗢ 𓈒∘ ꒰This is what I live for. Imagine Souk Eye hitting harder in this situation.꒱
A sad day on the beach
⚓︎ Pairing: Murdoc with child reader
⚓︎ Summary: You thought being away from him would feel better than it did.
It wasn’t fair. Nothing was ever fair to you. It felt like you were brought into this world for the soul purpose to be mocked by the universe. You were currently staying in good ol’ sunny Los Angeles, California. Much nicer than the gloom and doom that’s London. The beaches here were warm and full of life. The sand burned your feet and the water was just cold enough to cool you down but you couldn’t enjoy any of it because of the overwhelming sense of…you didn’t know what. Sadness? Anger? Anxiety? All of the above? Who knows! Because you sure as hell didn’t.
Your dad, Murdoc had been locked up after being framed for the murder of El Mierda or something like that. You knew the real reason was all those unpaid parking tickets he always tossed in the trash. The paparazzi had been bugging you about it. Constantly tracking you down, pointing cameras in your face, asking intruding questions. This whole situation pissed you off.
The waves lapped at your feet, washing the sand from between your toes as you stared into the vast ocean, lost in thought. You fidgeted with the cross necklace hanging from your neck. Your dad gave it to you before he got halled off. He was an awful man…but he was your dad. The two of you constantly fought and never saw eye to eye. Without him there to pick on you, things felt…off.
A hand on your shoulder startled you. Your head whipped around and your whole body tensed up. Ace stood over you with that stupid smirk that never seemed to falter. You didn’t like this guy. You didn’t have a reason, he just gave you the wrong vibe. “Make sure you don’t burn, rockstar. You’re not in the Queen’s land anymore.” He snorted. The nickname pissed you off. He didn’t have the right to call you that. Only the band called you that…after Murdoc gave it to you. “Don’t call me that.” You muttered. He laughed before walking away. You heard him whisper something along the lines of “just like your father…” as he left. You were NOTHING like him! You’d rather die than be like him.
The bright blue sky slowly dimmed, turning into a vast array of pinks and oranges you found pretty. The way the light reflected off the ocean put you at ease. Most people were clearing off the beach as the sun set but you decided to stay. You stayed till all the colors faded to black and the ocean looked like a void. The darkness and chill wind made you wonder if it’s cold in jail. Should you even care? He’s probably happy to be away from you. He didn’t want you anyway! Why did things have to be so complicated? Emotions were hard. Everyone else was glad Murdoc was gone, you should be too, but you couldn’t bring yourself to be. It pissed you off that you missed him. In a fit of rage, you tore the necklace from your neck and tossed it into the water but immediately regretted it so you dived in after it, hoping the waves wouldn’t pull it out to sea. Now you were soaked and fuming. You put the necklace back on and started heading to the hotel.
Of course when you got to the room your key wasn’t working. Nothing ever seemed to work for you. You swiped the card multiple times, but the light kept blinking obnoxious red. You were about to bang on the door when Noodle came up behind you, carrying a bucket of ice. “Where’ve you been? We were starting to worry about you.” She used her key and it worked first try.
The room was trashed, of course. Everywhere you all went you left chaos in your wake. Russ was passed out with the tv remote still in his hand. Ace was on the phone with…god knows who. Then out of the corner of your eye you noticed 2-D sitting on the balcony with his synthesizer. You tread through the mess to get to the balcony door. You could hear the faint melody he was playing and his attempt to put lyrics to the music.
“I will always think about you
That's why I'm calling you back on my way through
I wanna stay with you for a long time, I want to be stone love
I wanna see L.A. in your eyes when I'm leaving with your love…”
Sliding open the door, letting the cool air chill your soaking skin. 2-D looked up at you and smiled. “Hey- why’re you all wet?” You sat down next to him and shrugged. “I took a dip.” “I’ll get you a towel. Mudz wouldn’t like it if we let you freeze to death.” He left you to fetch a towel. You wondered what he was working on. It sounded nice. You were sure he was having the best time without Murdoc there.
When he came back, he draped the towel over you and ruffled your hair then sat back down next to you. “What’re you writing?” You asked. His smile faltered a bit and he sighed. “I’m not really sure.” He let out a strained chuckle. You could tell something was bothering him. “Are you ok?” Your question caught him off guard. “Of course, I am. Why?” 2-D tilted his head. “I don’t know…I just- I miss him…it’s so stupid and I know he’s a piece of shit but-“ “I do too.” That surprised you. “Really?” He nodded in response. “Isn’t it weird how we miss the people that hurt us? People say that’s not a good thing, but it just doesn’t feel right without him here.” He looks to you with a pitiful smile. “It’s ok to miss him. He’s your dad even if he is a sod.” That made you feel a little bit better.
The next morning you woke up with a sore neck but well rested. The best sleep you’d gotten in months. Someone had put you in one of the beds even though your spot had been the couch. Nonetheless you were grateful. You rubbed your eyes and tried to shake the sleep that clouded your head before slipping out of bed to go find everyone. Russ was in the living room, on the phone. When he noticed you walk in his head perked up. “-Yeah they just woke up.” Then he handed the phone to you. You were still groggy from your heavy sleep, so you really didn’t know how to react. “Uhh…hello?” “Ah there you are, rockstar!” That familiar gravelly voice rang through the phone and woke you right up. “Hi dad.” You sunk into the couch, holding the phone close. “I haven’t heard from you in a while. I hope you aren’t having too much fun without me.” You couldn’t stop the smile from forming on your face. “Just didn’t want to bother you.” “Oh sure, I know you’re thriving along with the rest of them. You’ve probably forgotten all about your dear old man.” Murdoc sighed dramatically. You rolled your eyes. “I really do miss you.” The line went silent and you were starting to regret your words. ‘I love you’ or ‘I miss you’ or I care about you’ was never something the two of you did. It was just a fact you never discussed. He never said it and you didn’t either. “Dad-“ “I’ve got to go, kid. I’ve run out of tim-“ There was a click then the line went dead. You slammed the phone back into the receiver. Feeling your lip quiver you quickly pushed down your emotions before they spilled over.
A few months go by and Murdoc was let out. You asked to stay at the hotel so you could have some time to yourself. Sitting on the balcony listening to the peaceful sounds of waves and laughter on the beach. The regular scheduled chaos would be back. Moving around, getting into trouble, making music, the usual. Back to the fighting and broken dishes…
The sound of the sliding door opening pulled you from your thoughts. There he was. Your father stood over you with a black eye and a cloud over his head. He didn’t seem like himself. He seemed tired and worn down. This was merely a shell of your father they let out. He sat down next to you, not quite sure what to say. He noticed you still wore his necklace which made a real, genuine smile grow on his face. It was small but you noticed. “Glad to see you kept it safe.” Murdoc reached over and ran his fingers over the gold cross. You looked down at his hand as you remembered you still had it on. “Oh yeah.” You started to take it off, but he stopped you. “Nah, nah you keep it. Don’t say I never gave you anything.” He flicked your nose and chuckled, but you weren’t smiling. His smile faltered for a bit, catching on to your attitude.
Murdoc looked out onto the beach, taking in the view. “Quite the sight, aye? Could get used to this.” He propped his feet up on the banister, looking back at you and that miserable expression on your face. “Aw c’mon, rockstar…what’s got your knickers in a twist?” “God…you really don’t get it. You really are just a piece of shit.” You sighed, burying you face in your hands
Out of the corner of your eye, you noticed the band watching argument breakout. 2-D quickly shut the curtain but you knew they were still listening. “I just wanna know if I’m some burden you keep around.” you muttered. He doesn’t know how to respond. Of course he doesn’t. No one’s ever called out his bullshit before. This isn’t a problem he can run away from.
Murdoc could see the hurt in your eyes. He knows he’s the cause. “You know me kid…I’m no good.” “But you could be.” You spat, standing so you could look down at him. "You’re a piece of shit on purpose! You could change but you don’t! If you actually cared you’d try and get better!” Your lip started to shake and the tears leaked down your cheeks. “Fuck I hate you but all I’ve done while you were gone is miss you! I’m pathetic and so are you!” He was stunned by your outburst. “It’s not my fault you’re an idiot for missing me! If you know how awful I am then why do you bother with me?” He snapped back. “Because you’re my father, damnit! If you didn’t want me you should’ve gotten rid of me or kept it in your pants!” “I’m sorry!” He sighed and rubbed it tired eyes. “I’m sorry…” He repeated, sounding defeated. “I’m aware that I’m a lousy father but you’re growing up a lot better than I did…I guess that not an excuse.” Murdoc looked up at you with a solemn expression. “I know I make all of your lives hell…I just can’t help it.” He reached up and gently wiped the tears from your cheek. “I think you turned out to be a pretty damn good kid. You’re nothing like me, I’m grateful for that.” You leaned onto his touch and continued to cry. All your emotions finally bubbled over. He stood up and wrapped his arms around you. “Do you love me?” You whimpered against his chest. After a long pause he finally answered. “…Yeah, I love ya.”
Thanks 4 being patient guys cause I said I’d do this like 500 years ago, but don’t expect too much from me ladies!! Tbh.. I’m not very fond of this guy /jjjjj He’s ok x-x (2d and Russel better) 😂 request plsss im so depresseddddfd ahah
Just sweet (ish) headcanons! / short afff
TOTESS jumpscaring you while you’re doing chores likee.. Washing dishes, folding clothes, blahahah and sometimes comes out of nowhere behind you holding your waist.
Idc what Anyone says, I am a FRIM believer he literally loves having a child around, especially when they’re actually well behaved. And would LOVE having kids with u! >u<
borrows you’re car and crashes it.
Whiny fucking baby bottom IDC IDC IDC CANON
Would try to make you breakfast in bed, but he then burn a lot of it. he just gives you cereal atp..
Snuggles with you when you both are alone, (like the photo with the stuffed animal 👇) and drools on you while he sleeps yup
Buys you lingerie. There’s at least 2 sets in every color!
Has tried to convince you to do water sports with him but you REFUSE. (Or not idk what you’re into.)
