murdoc x reader

part 1

You shuffled through the records in the guitar shop you worked at, looking for a few you didn't already own. During your break time, rather than leaving while your friend Zach took the next shift, you stuck around and played some guitars, looked through some music, and pretty much jusy piddled around until it was time for you to hop back behind the counter again. You didn't have a car to go relax in, and your uniform was a bit too heavy and embarrassing to be wearing out in public. You had to wear full black vans, which wasn't bad at all. But the clothing is what kind of bothered you. You wore light washed jeans, a black polo shirt with a small guitar and white music notes embroidered on the chest pocket, and to top it all off, you had to wear a silly apron over it. It had pockets with guitar string packages, receipts, and the occasional call me notes shoved in them. And if your boss ever saw you in the shop without it on, he'd give you a rater stern talking to. You also had to wear your (h/l) (h/c) up in a bun, but you didn't mind having to do that all too much.

You finished looking through the records and adjusted your name tag. You smiled to yourself and looked at the children and parents entering through the glass doors. All of the kids looked so happy, and it brought you so much joy to see their eyes light up with excitement when they saw the guitars and ukuleles. And on rare occasions, some of the kids would dash to the orchestral section and stare in awe at the large bases and cellos. True, the pay wasn't great, but you loved working here. Monday through Wednesday, you worked the counter. Thursday and Friday you did guitar lessons. Those were your favorite days. You enjoyed seeing the small boys and girls every week, and you enjoyed seeing how proud their parents looked. Every so often you'd get a new kid, and every so often you'd lose one. But you didn't mind much, you were just glad you got to teach them for as long as you had. You'd been working here for about three years now, going on four. You and your old boss had worked up a bond, but last month he had retired, and his son had taken over. His son seemed to flirt with you, but you had no interest in him whatsoever.

You turned around and walked over to the counter where your close friend Zach was working. His back was turned to you as he arranged some packages in the back. "Hey, Zach, how much longer til' my shift?" He glanced back at you and snickered. "Damn (y/n), ya must love working her or somethin. If I were you, I'd leave the minute I was on break. Especially since you have to work two shifts." You shrugged and placed your hands on the counter. You stood up on your tippytoes and tired to peer over his shoulder to look at what he was doing. "Need some help there, bud?" Zach groaned and turned around, and bunch of tangled wires in his hands. "Yes please."

You smiled and shook your head teasingly, taking the strings from his hands. He turned back to the boxes, and you leaned back against the counter top, untwisting the strings. The guitar shack was pretty peaceful, especially since it was Monday afternoon. Most kids weren't out of school yet, and the work had already been taken care of in the morning. The only people other than you, Zach, and another employee that were in the shop were two little boys and who you assumed was their mother. They were playing with the ukuleles towards the back, not being much of a bother. You let out a happy, soft sigh and looked around the shop. This place was like a second home to you.

"I'M HERE FOR THA' FUCKIN' GUITARS!" You directed your attention to the man who had just busted through the doors. Zach yelped and dropped down beneath the counter, and you backed up into it. The man had a red bandana covering his mouth, and he was wearing a leather jacket with a white shirt beneath it. He had on dark blue jeans and some black boots. He ran to the guitars and began tossing them to the ground. "WHERE ARE YA GOOD ONES? THE ONES ALREADY TUNED AND RESTRUNG." He shouted, twisting his body around to you. You threw your hands up defensively. Your heart was pounding out of your chest, and you were already sweating nervously. You wondered not only why this man had chosen such a small guitar store; but why the fuck the cops weren't there yet. The man reached into the pocket of his jacket and pulled out a pistol. He aimed it right at your chest and furrowed his brows. He walked closer to you rather quickly, and looked at you dead in the eyes. You squinted back at him. He had a bowl cut, a broken nose, and what seemed to be some pretty dirty skin. He pressed the gun to your chest and looked down at your name tag. "(Y/n). Get behind the bloody counter, and get me either some money, or some fucking guitars. And make it quick." You nodded rapidly, and he lowered his gun.

You rushed around the counter and behind it, nearly tripping over yourself. "(Y/n) what the bloody hell are you do-" "Zach, shut the fuck up, I'm doing what has to be done." You opened the cash register and began to pull out money. You were so close to giving the man as much as he wanted, when suddenly the stores new owner ran out from the back. "(Y/N)! THE FUCK ARE YOU DOING?" You stopped what you were doing and met eyes with him. He stopped in his tracks. He scowled at you and gripped the rack next to him tightly. "I knew I shouldn't have trusted you..." he glanced from you, to the man with the gun, then back to you. "YOU'RE FUCKING STEALING?" You heart dropped and you immediately felt sick. "N-No... I..." Your boss began to rush towards you, his fists balled, ready to either punch you or the man actually stealing. Suddenly, a bullet struck your bosses shin, and he fell to the ground. He wailed in agony and held onto his leg.

The man swept up the money you had already placed on the counter, and then he grabbed your wrist firmly. He yanked you up and over the counter top and placed you on the ground. "WHY AREN'T THE COPS HERE YET? I'M CALLING THEM..." The woman's shrieks from the back of the shop trailed off into nothingness. Your knees felt wobbly and you felt like you were dreaming. But you knew you weren't. The man robbing you firmly grabbed your cheeks and caused your eyes to meet with his once again. "You... you're comin' with me." He yanked on your wrist and pulled you out of the doors. You felt too weak to fight back, too shocked to scream out for help. He shoved you into the door of a black steel car. "GET IN NOW," he shouted, sliding over the hood of the car and hopping into the drivers side. "THEY'LL NEVER BELIEVE YOU'RE INNOCENT." You snapped back into reality and quickly pulled open the passage side door.

You jumped in and strapped yourself in. You held onto your knees and looked over at him. He started the car without saying a single word, and he sped off. "Why am I... why did you..." you rambled, gripping either side of your head. "I'll answer your questions later, luv. For now, shut the fuck up and let me concentrate on gettin away from these pigs." He chuckled and bent over a bit. He stepped on the gas and busted ass out of the parking lot and onto the main road. He swerved in and out of lanes and red various red lights as he drove. Your head was throbbing and you didn't know how to feel. Everything was so surreal.

You looked over at him again, and then out of the windshield. "What the fuck did I just do."