Gorillaz Oneshots & Imagines

Down With The Sickness

Down With The Sickness — Murdoc/Reader
Triggers: Cussing, mentions of a toxic relationship.
Phase: Two

got my second dose of the covid shot yesterday and am feeling pretty bad now w/a headache and a fever. this imagine is based on that :)
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Murdoc was woken up by you tossing and turning on the bed, groaning and huffing every few seconds. He turns over to you with a annoyed face and growls.

"I. Am. TRYING. to SLEEP," he snarled, sharp teeth bared and shining in the moonlight seeping through the window. You sigh and smack him on the forehead.

"I am SICK!" You exclaimed, hearing a faint  noise of anger and confusion. You hold your head tightly, feeling a headache coming up and groan in pain. "This headache is killing me," you whined, attempting to interlock your fingers with Murdocs. He forcefully yanks his hands away and you frown, glaring at him.

"You are NOT," he breathed, "touching me with those nasty hands of yours, you fever running vulture!"

"It's barely even a fever. You're overreac—"

"No," he snapped, "I'm getting the thermometer to check your temperature. I want ta' know what I'm dealing with, love. Don't want your ...ugghhg... SICK hands on me when I have to record tomorrow, ya hear me?"

He then sluggishly walked out of his Winnebago and into Kong, complaining like a child just loud enough so you can hear it. You snickered before putting on one of Murdocs band hoodies. They are far too big for you but that's exactly what you need right now.

Suddenly a pain washes through your skull and you grip your head, whimpering. You wish Murdoc would just come back and go to sleep. You didn't want to hear his complaining at four o'clock in the morning, but here you are going through exactly that.

Suddenly, the door to the Winnebago bursts open to show Murdoc, and on his shoulder, his favourite raven Cortez. Mudz is holding a bowl of chicken noodle soup in one hand, and water in the other. He smiles at you, and softly walks over, placing the bowl of soup and water on the makeshift table beside the bed.

"I know I was a bit of a... uhh asshole, earlier. I'm sorry about that love," he says, running his hand through your scalp. "Y'know I'm not a morning person, darling, and I can get pretty snnnnappy," he drawled, and chuckled, now using his nails to massage your scalp. "I canceled for today," he says out of the blue, "because you matter a lot more than some damn songs," he grins, watching your reaction as your eyes lit up. He keeps massaging your skull, asking you where it hurts and if you need water, before calling Cortez to his shoulder.

"Ya already know Cortez, don't'ya darling? Well, he's took quite a liking to you it seems," Cortez coos before hopping to your arm, staring into your eyes as you stared into his. You giggle, using a finger to rub his head and making a noise that is like an exciting toddler meeting an animal for the first time. Murdoc continued, "and it seems like he wanted to see you, so I thought, "why not?" And brought him here. Poor thing, he never gets much attention. I'm always busy. But he's always fed good, haawhaaaw!"

"That's good at least," you nodded, smiling at Murdoc. He has trouble forming one, but he manages a small smirk.

Cortez then flies out the window, leaving a few feathers behind. You gasp, grabbing onto Murdocs shoulder as he laughed. "Relax, relax. He's going off to find food, dollface. And speaking of food, your soup is getting cold, you should rrrrreally eat it."

You ate about half of your soup before yawning, resting on Murdocs chest. He hummed, the vibrations calming you and sending you into a light slumber. He looked down at you and chuckled at the sight, moving your hair out of your face to get a better look at you, then combing his fingers through your hair and continuing to massage your scalp. He loves the little noises you make.

He then placed you into the bed, tucking you in and kissing your forehead rather sloppily, mumbling out an "I love you, more than you'd ever know, and what I care to admit," before slipping off his jeans and climbing into bed with you, slinking his body around your small one, humming contently as he stuck his face into your shoulder, biting softly on the flesh with his maw.

He then began grumbling about the times he yelled at you and almost made you cry. He would never hit you, he couldn't bring himself to, but he feared that he was becoming more like his father everyday by the way he growled, threatened, and yelled. He would never tell you this. His ego is far too low for that, and the fear of losing you forever always lingers in his mind.