everything is beautiful.

-summary; Matt comes home to find his cross missing.
-warnings; blood, religious imagery.
-a/n;Blue Horses, Mary Oliver

It had been a rough night. Matt could barely walk. He stumbled up the stairs, leaving a bloody trail in his wake. He was dying, maybe he was already dead. He struggled to unlock his front door. You listened from your place on his couch. You listened as he struggled.

The smell of you was the first thing Matt noticed. He breathed a sigh of relief. His apartment was warm and dry and it felt good to be home. You didn’t move. Normally, you would wander over to him, help him to the bathroom. But not tonight. Matt felt and fumbled his way to the couch. He collapsed into you. He wrapped his arms around your waist. You were familiar. Matt felt the life flow back into him, his skin warming under your hands. He could smell your perfume, your shampoo. It all calmed him. He ran his hands over your skin, mapping you out. He came up to your shoulders and then ran his fingers through freshly washed hair. His thumbs stroked your cheeks. You didn’t smile like you usually did. His hands were leaving trails of half-dried blood behind them, all over you. He dropped his touch to your neck, where he noticed something new.

You weren’t particularly religious. You never had been, not since Matt has known you. He first approached you because he could smell the lapsed-catholic guilt that radiated off of you. And he never left. Neither did the guilt. Matt had never known you to wear a cross, not like he did. You never usually wore necklaces at all. He could feel your rings digging into his thighs. He could hear your earrings chime with every shake of your head. But this necklace was new.

He took the chain between his fingers and ran them down, down until they reached a very familiar pendant. A cross, cold against his skin. This wasn’t yours. Suddenly he noticed the lack of a cross around his neck. It was his.

“You’re hurt,” you state. “You’re weak, Matt. You can barely stand.”

“I thought that’s how you like me,” he joked. “I think I look good in red, no?”

You shook your head. Blood was drying on your skin and you felt dirty, sinful. Hail Mary’s would not make up for this.

“This is mine,” he tugged harshly on the chain and your head lunged forward, your lips brushing against his.

“You forgot it here before you left.”

You unclasped it. Matt heard the cross jingle. He felt your hands behind his neck, cold metal on his chest. The chain settled around his neck. Matt touched yours again, it was bare.

You watched as Matt stood. He pulled his shirt over his head. His whole chest was covered in red. He rest on knee on the couch and leaned over you. His hand cupped your jaw, holding you still so he could kiss you. His tongue swept into your mouth and all you could taste was blood. You pushed Matt away.

“I don’t like it. Go wash it off. Patch yourself up.”

“Help me,” Matt pleaded.

You hovered your hand over Matt’s. He could feel you trembling. You were shaking uncontrollably. Matt knew what you meant. If you tried to sew him up, you’d only hurt him more. Matt nodded and disappeared into the bathroom. You scrubbed your hands and face clean in the kitchen sink. You scrubbed until your skin was raw. Matt reappeared behind you silently. You jumped at the feeling of his hands on your hips. He smelt clean. You were comfortable again, leaning back against his bare chest.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered.

“You don’t have to make it pretty. It’s blood,” you pleaded. “it’s not meant to be pretty.”

“Everything is beautiful if you want it to be.”

“Maybe the desire to make something beautiful is the piece of God that is inside all of us.”

Familiar Senses

Matt Murdock x Reader

a/n: I thought this up randomly and I’m kinda obsessed with the idea of someone doing this for Matt. I think it’d be really cute and I needed to write it out.

word count: 1.4k

You lay with Matt resting bonelessly between your thighs, your fingers thoughtlessly running through his hair, basking in the afterglow of your previous activities. 

All was peacefully silent in his apartment, the only noise being both of your calming breaths. Though that was all you heard, you couldn’t even imagine the sounds and scents that must be filling Matt’s senses. You often wondered what it was like for him to live with such a thing.

You always took notice of Matt. When he would squeeze his eyes tightly because there was just too much noise going on around him, when he would stifle a gag because there were too many mixing scents, when he would shift on the bed because there were too many differing textures. There were a number of times where you had seen Matt simply overwhelmed by the world around him. 

You always tried to help as best you could. 

You hear Matt inhale deeply from where his head lay, his face cuddled against your neck. You feel him smile, his lips soft. 

“I think I could find you from anywhere in Hell’s Kitchen,” Matt spoke randomly, the smile still on his face. Your bodies moved as you laughed lightly. The sound of your laughter bounced around the room as it intensified from Matt nipping at your throat playfully. 

“That’s random,” you replied once your laughter ceased, mentioning the previous silence. You tried to angle your neck to get a look at his face but Matt kept himself tight against you. Matt’s hand drifted down to caress his knuckles along your bare torso. You noted the warmth in his touch and the rough texture of his hands. Your fingers moved through his hair as he subtly shook his head. 

“Everyone has a different scent and it’s constantly changing. It can be overwhelming. But you… you smell the same. Always. It’s become imprinted in my memory, I am more sure of it than I am of most. And I think I could find your scent anywhere,” he admits softly as he curls further against you, his nose brushing against your skin. The weight of him on you was comforting. It was as grounding as your scent was to him. 

“Does it help?” You ask, having always wondered if all your attempts were in vain or not. His lips now ghosting along your collarbone, his warm breath now igniting goosebumps along your arms. 

“It helps a lot. It calms me down if I’m being honest,” he admits, planting a soft kiss on your sternum before snuggling back against your throat. You sigh in relief, your body relaxing more into the mattress. Your hands slip from his hair and sweep along his back, the muscles there shifting from your touch. 

“Your scent brings me comfort too,” you say back, a smile forming on your lips as well. Matt hums and it vibrates through your body like an electric current. Even the littlest thing he did to you made you feel more alive than you remember ever feeling before. 

“I think you do it on purpose,” he states, making your eyes shoot open from their closed and relaxed state. Your hands stop their movements and you feel Matt jerk with a short chuckle. 

“What do you mean?” You ask, making your voice light and airy. But you knew Matt would sense your increased heartbeat. Even as you tried to breathe evenly, you knew you’d fail to conceal anything. 

Matt shifts and your arms fall around his waist, your arms wrapped around him. He braces his forearms on the mattress and he lifts himself off you slightly and all just so you can witness the look he sends you, lips pursed and brow raised. 

“Don’t play dumb, darling,” he says, the start of a grin twitching in the corner of his mouth. Your arms tighten around him, making his expression soften. You look over his features, not truly being able to believe this man was yours. 

“I notice everything, Matty,” you start softly, a little embarrassed to be admitting this to him. “Everything about you. I know this gift you’ve been given can feel like a curse… but when you’re with me, I don’t want you to feel that way,” you express, finishing strong. A hand moves to cup his cheek and he immediately falls into it, his eyes closing as he accepts its comfort. His scruff tickles your hand but you enjoy the sensation. 

“So how do you do it all?” He asks, eyes still closed. Your eyes catch how his eyelashes fall against his cheek and your heart flutters. Your chest feels tight, revealing this to him. You never did it so that he would acknowledge it as if you were doing something special. You only ever did it to make him more comfortable. 

“I use the same scent for everything. Body wash and shampoo, perfume, and soap so the different smells don’t overwhelm you. And I match a lot of my outfits too so no matter if you’re holding my waist or my thigh, you’ll feel the similar textures of fabric. You know, stuff like that I guess…” you share, your voice trailing off, your eyes darting to look over his shoulder. 

After a few long moments of silence, you gather enough courage to look back to his face. His eyes are now open and wide, darting around uncontrollably. His lips are parted as he inhales and exhales shaky breaths. He’s speechless. And you don’t know how to take that. Worry builds within you the longer it takes for him to reply which causes your chest to tighten and your brows to furrow deeply. Your hand falls back to his waist, unsure of his reaction. 

Matt doesn’t speak first. First, he moves to balance on his elbows as his hands fall to your face, slowly tracing your features. He chuckles breathlessly as he smooths out the lines between your brows. He traces the shape of your face, your nose, your cheeks, your mouth, and your chin. His hands rest against your neck as his thumbs graze your jaw. You merely scan his features as you lay there silently, waiting for him to speak. You note the disbelief on his face and wonder what he’s thinking. 

“I love you… so damn much. I- I can’t believe— you do— shit,” Matt whispers brokenly and a giant exhale follows from you. You smile widely, your hands coming up to grasp his shoulders tightly. You shrug a little, knowing he can feel it. 

“What can I say? I kind of love you too,” you say followed by a few giggles of laughter. A large smile breaks out across Matt’s face as he laughs heartily.

“Kind of?” He asks incredulously, raising his voice to add effect. It forces out a few more laughs before you lean up and plant a soft kiss beneath his earlobe. 

“Do what you did with your tongue again and I’ll lose the kind of,” you whisper in his ear. You feel a huff of laughter against your neck before you lean back to face him. 

“Alright, I’m gonna kiss you now,” he says with a grin. You shake your head, a look of faux disapproval on your face. 

“Not the tongue thing I was talking about,” you say, letting the look on your face shine through your tone as he leans in closer and closer to kiss you. 

“Shut up,” he says through a small laugh before his lips mold against yours. You sigh into the kiss, letting both of you fall back against the bed. 

His lips are soft against yours and his tongue is smooth as it glides across your own. His hands hold you firmly. You can feel the effect of your kiss on your thigh but it doesn’t disrupt the kiss and the calmness of it. You feel his warmth surround you, blocking out the rest of the world. In this brief moment, it’s only you and him and the senses between you. No one else’s. 

You only break apart once the sting of pain in your lungs reminds you that you cannot kiss Matt forever, despite your own wishes. Matt continues to lean over you, nose brushing against your own. 

“Not what I was hoping for… but not bad…” you say breathlessly and with a smile on your face. Your eyes focus on Matt to see his expression serious. His thumbs reach up to swipe back and forth across your cheek. 

“You are my sanctuary,” he says lowly, taking his time to say them. Your heart melts as you can feel the intensity in the meaning of his words. 

“And you’re mine.”

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