El Mañana (Murdoc x Reader x 2D)

Like I Lost My Way

Murdoc took me by the hand, and closed the room door, ruffling up my own hair, which had grown to be a bit past my shoulders, something easily an accessible for a simple bun. I smiled softly, and lightly flicked him, collapsing on his bed. I don't think I had ever purposely slept with him. He was a jerk, and that was not something that I wanted to put in my book. I looked up at the ceiling, trying to make the patterns in the popcorn ceilings.

"You are such a weirdo." I smiled at Murdoc, glancing over at him. He was looking at me, sitting at his desk, and wearing a black turtle neck, a smirk on his own face. Over the past few weeks, or months, I had seen his smile turn from malicious to generally happy. At least, geared towards me. He didn't have that many encounters with 2D that I had known about, and, yet, I kept on seeing more bruises appear on his face as his pale arms everyday. "Yeah, but I am your weirdo, right, darling?" He inquired, and sat next to me, myself sitting up.

"Nope. 'Cause you are Murdoc Niccals! You don't belong to anyone. Breaking the law, shagging girls, and being a creep! It's your calling!" I threw my arms in the air, them slowly falling down to my sides. I was acting giddy, butterflies flying through my stomach. I didn't know why I was so happy, why my face felt like it was on fire, and my mouth curved up into a large smile. I slowly leaned into him, and he wrapped an arm around me, looking blankly at the telly. "I've shagged many girls, but none as beautiful as you." He complimented, and I lightly slapped his face.

"I'm in love with another man! Oh, taboo enters my heart, my mind a fiery storm of emotion! Oh, please, Murdoc. You cannot tell him that I have fallen for you? I couldn't bear it!" I shouted dramatically, a posh accent breaking the edge of my voice as I collapsed in his lap, placing a hand to my forehead, and closing my eyes, opening one to peek up at him. "Goofball." He muttered, lightly pushing my back up, and laying down with me on the bed, our legs hanging over the edge.

"You know, I'm a pretty good singer. I was going to be the lead singer of the bad. Then I got told that my ugly mug wouldn't make it anywhere. And that's where he came in. He was proper weird, a funky looking fellow. Then I fixed him up." Murdoc told me a story, his hands over his stomach, and himself looking at his shoes feet, mine being in stockings. "Man, I've had enough singing for one day. I swear, if 2D tries to sing the Gerudo Valley theme song one more time, I'm shoving my face into a toilet." I gazed back at him. I wasn't trying to be mean, but hearing him vocalize the theme song every time kind of made me annoyed.

"Then whatever shall we do? I can think of one thing, but you'll be too chicken for that." Murdoc glanced back at me, a smirk on his face. I raised an eyebrow, somewhat unamused as I continued to stare up at the ceiling. "Well, I have already done something today. We can't knock it until we try it." I grumbled, brushing my hand across my forehead, and sitting up on the bed. He hopped off the bed lightly, and opened up the door of his closet, bending down, and rummaging through it. He came back out with a lamb's skull, many different things that looked like spices, and a board. He also came out with a knife.

"Let's contact my dear old friend." He chuckled as he dumped the supplies on the bed, placing the board directly down, and straightening it with his long fingers. I furrowed my eyebrows, my hands in my lap, and one of his blankets wrapped around my shoulders. He pulled out a mortar and pestle, and began to mix some of the 'spices' in, grinding them up. I almost laughed out loud when they said things like 'Eye of Newt' and 'Witch's Breath'. He seemed incredibly serious though, chanting some Latin underneath his breath, and dragging the knife blade across his palm, the easiest way for him to get the blood out, I assumed.

"So this is legit?" My eyes went wide as I looked back at him. My mother always warned me not to mess with this stuff. To stay away from Ouija boards, and to never make a deal with Satan. I assumed that his old friend was Satan, the way he was grinning. Good thing I dumped my morals a long time ago. He gave me a small glance, a glare, if you will, for breaking his patience and his incantation. I shut my mouth, blood dripping into the mortar and pestle, and him dumping the contents on the lamb's skull.

Nothing happened for a few seconds. We sat there in silence, Murdoc looking at the skull patiently, like a school kid. This was the only time I saw him put this much effort into anything, and it kind of amazed me. The joking went away, and tension started to rise in the room, it becoming more humid than it was before. I looked back at him. At this point, he would've been worried about his hair. The room dimmed, and he looked bored as black smoke seeped underneath the door and through the vents. The board began to violently shake, shaking the bed, and the beds legs scraping across the ground. A black, swirling void had opened up through the board, my ears popping and unpopping, like we were going higher and lower in altitude. The room began to grow louder and louder, like my senses had brightened, and broadened. I noticed every detail, and I could hear every movement within the walls, and the small movements of the picture frames, seeing through the shadows on the smoke. I gripped the sheets in the bed.

And then, out popped a man wearing a business suit of the board, pulling himself up with his hands. It was a tight fit, and I moved backwards on the bed, as to give him some room. He popped out of the bored, straightening his suit, which was charcoal gray, and a maroon tie. His pants were neatly ironed and creased, his shoes polished neatly, and my eyes going up to his face. His hair was black and shirt, almost like Murdoc's, except less floppy and greasy. His eyes were bright red, and his skin was pale, a grimace on his face. He finished straightening his suit, then a scroll and reading glasses suddenly appeared in midair, him bringing it up to his eyes.

"Aww, yes, my favorite customer. Murdoc Niccals." His voice was like honey, sweet, deep, and seductive. It gave me the creeps how smooth he seemed to be compared to 2D, and even Murdoc, his accent American, like from the West Coast. "Oh, and we have a visitor. Y/N L/N. Innocent, pure, and a perfect candidate for everything you owe. Oh, Murdoc, you are just too kind to bring me a wife." He raised his eyebrows, and I suddenly looked alarmed over to Murdoc.

"She is just visiting, my lord." Murdoc added the last part in spite. He probably wasn't used to be calling someone lord, but it had made Lucifer seem super happy. He grinned from ear to ear, and patted the top of Murdoc's head. "She isn't yours. She is mine." Murdoc growled back, and I smiled back up at him. He turned to me. "Why, hello, little miss. You certainly are adorable, aren't you? Something different from Murdoc's usual pick." I let out a small laugh as he helped me stand up, and kissed the back of my hand with a large grin, and I crossed my legs, putting a hand up to my lips to stifle my laugh. He certainly was charming.

"I've decided it, Murdoc. You can be free of all of your sentences. You can even have your soul back. Your life will be lengthened to the length it was before I took it away." He promised, tightly holding my hand. He didn't seem interested, looking off to the side. Why did he even summon Satan if he was so disinterested? Murdoc rolled his eyes. "That sounds great. You go right ahead." He mumbled sarcastically. And, of course, Satan laughed at his, wrapping his arm close around my waist, and snapping his fingers. "Then it's a deal. I will take Y/N back to hell with me, where she will be dubbed my wife. Only a pure, innocent, and conflicted soul should ever have this chance. Thank you, Murdoc the Matchmaker."

"Wait, what?" Murdoc and I yelled at the same time as we fell through the hole, myself unmoving. "Murdoc?! Don't just stand there!" Murdoc looked panicked as he just stood there, myself reaching my arms towards him. All that I could hear now was the sound of wind against my hair, whipping in my ears, then, before I knew, I was falling, and hanging on to the suit of Mr. Beelzebub himself.