Gorillaz Oneshots & Imagines

Miracle Worker

Miracle Worker - Murdoc / Reader
Triggers: Alcohol, Cussing, slight sex mention.
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"Right... So? Up for a game of Bullshit?"

Murdoc laughed and slammed his hand on the table. "Hell yeah! I'm up. I'm going to kick your ass, dove. Nobody plays Bullshit as good as I do. Got a face of pure steel."

"Mmmhm," you nodded as you shuffled the deck, having a little bit of trouble and flicking a card across the room. "Shit," you cursed underneath your breath as Murdoc chuckled and retrieved said card, flicking it to your forehead.

"Bullseye!"

"Oh fuck off you emo cunt," you laughed, peeling the card off the table with bitten nails, cursing when the corner managed to reach underneath a nail. Your eyes trailed up to Murdoc's face, which was riddled with smug. You shrugged and began dealing the cards, deciding to go with seven to each person.

The beginning card was an Ace, and Murdoc decided to slam his hand onto what could barely be considered a pile.

"Two twos," he spat, watching your expression with piqued interest. You chuckled softly at his reaction and placed a card onto the pile.

"One three."
"One four."
"One five."
"One six."
"Two sevens."

"BULLSHIT!" Murdoc screeched, picking up the cards only to be baffled by the truth. He facepalmed and growled angrily.

"Didn't you say you were the best Bullshit player I would ever get the pleasure of playing with?" You replied to his grumble of displeasure, laughing when he growled out a bitter, "shut your yap!" then continued to wait his turn.

"Okay then, Mr. Grumpyass. One eight."

Murdoc flicked his tongue across his bottom lip. "I am not a grumpyass. Also, two sevens can be hard to come by, so my bullshit was necessary! Ahem—one nine."

"Right, right. So, would you like to play a game of Rummy after I kick your ass in Bullshit?" Murdoc choked on his Rum.

"OH, so we're playing cocky now? Mmhmmhg, I can do that. That's actually pretty hot, you know. Maybe you can... mmm, kick my ass under the sheets perhaps?" You rolled your eyes and chuckled, pouring yourself a shot glass of Rum before downing it in one go and clearing your throat. "No thanks bozo. I wouldn't bang you if you were drunk, and I'm definitely not banging you when you're sober. Actually, I don't want to bang you at all."

Murdoc put a hand over his heart and faked a noise that sounded like a disappointed child. "But we are perfect for each other! Look at us, chatting and drinking. That's what couples do, rrright?"

"Not exactly," you laughed, swirling the shit brown alcohol in its glass. You looked at Murdoc through the glass, glancing at his concentrated expression and slightly red cheeks. You hadn't even noticed most of the bottle had already been drank; and it wasn't by you.

"Russ is gonna be pissed you drank all that," you informed, reading the slightly scratched label which read, "Hell&Brimstone." You quickly decided that Murdoc was way too drunk to complete this game of cards so you quickly threw the bottle into the trash, covering it with some dirty paper plates that were left on the bar and smushing them down.

"Who cares about Russel? I don't," Murdoc giggled like a school boy. Completely drunk, you guessed. You sighed as you linked your elbow with his, immediately feeling Murdocs weight on the right side of your torso. His head is on top of yours now, and he's breathing irregularly, which is slightly concerning. After feeling his heartbeat and coming to a conclusion that it was just the alcohol, you dragged him up the stairs and to your shared bed in which you proceeded to slam him down onto the covers and wipe the sweat from your forehead.

"Someone's been gaining weight." You managed, breathing ragged.

"Is it meeee?" He dragged, laughing. You gave him finger guns and smiled, "yep, it's you." Murdoc cackled like an idiot.

"Come love," he said in between breaths. "Come feel the luxuriousness of these Egyptian Silk Sheets! I cleaned them just for you."

"You? Cleaning?" You laughed, replacing your shirt and pants with a tanktop and shorts. "I would love to Mudz, but I gotta get your pants off so you can sleep comfortably. Your shirt is already off so this makes it much easier." You touched his pecs gently and dragged your hands down to his pant buckle, in which you took off and began to unzip his pants. He isn't doing anything except laying there, heaving quite heavily. You take this opportunity to just drag the pants off his legs after asking him to lift his butt off the bed.

"Cold!" He hissed. "Very cold."

"Then get under the covers, dumbass."

"Alright, alright! Sweet satan you have a mouth on you tonight, don't you?"

"Not really," you snorted. "Just felt like being an ass is all. I rarely am one." Murdocs sigh turned into one of bliss as you moved his bangs and placed your palm on his forehead, rubbing softly on the flesh.

"I like when you are," Murdoc admitted. "Gives you a bit of... hmm, flare. But I like it even more when you're nice and loving. Juust like this," he leaned into your hand more and you began to rub his scalp. You giggled. "Yeah, I like this side of me more, too. Let us hope this stays this way, yeah? No more dumb arguments over some stupid petty drama or past trauma?"

"I can't promise the trauma one. But I can promise the drama one," he smiled. "I have too many nightmares to forget my trauma, love. I've tried for years." You frowned at that, but smiled softly once you remembered that he hasn't had any nightmares since you began sleeping with him. You laughed softly as you wiggled into bed beside him, lightly jabbing him in the side.

"You haven't had a nightmare since I began sleeping with you, you know. That must mean something."

"Means you're a damned miracle worker," he replied as he kissed your forehead and dragged you into his chest, the rumbling of his voice already sending you into the first stage of sleep. Murdoc put his head on top of yours and sighed lovingly. Perhaps this was God's way of attempting to win him over? Sending him a literal angel to take care of him? He chuckled as he shook away the strange idea, deciding that nobody sent you at all, but is he damn glad that he met you.