Longer than I expected… tried to give it more plot!

It's best to read the first installment "Strangest" first, but you don't have to. In fact, I'd rather you not lol

Wrote this while listening to the daredevil ost… good inspiration. Raindrops and Fogwell's Gym are the best tracks 3

Daredevil sat in the flat Matt Murdock owned, head in his hands.

What was racing through his mind was the night before.

How could he be so careless? Staying the night… Even though he couldn't deny that was the best sleep he had gotten in weeks. He also let a street thug get the best of him like that. All the while not even noticing how close the encounter was to your house. Which, in the back of his mind, annoyed him; trouble was so close to you, literally just behind the corner… But it was Hell's Kitchen, after all.

And how could he be so dumb? Acting so flirty and coy like that—teasing you the way only he knew how. Being so… Matt. Being so not Daredevil. Luckily, you weren't the most observant guy around. You also seemed to be busy, swimming in your thoughts that night.

He blinked, remembering the topic at hand.

Those thoughts had been about him.

In the middle of his apartment, Matt Murdock let himself slip on a smile.

The sunlight was a bright wake up call to anyone still stuck with their heads under the covers. When you fluttered your eyes open, you made a move to stretch before realizing how much your body ached. Then you remembered what happened last night. And then consequently, you flushed so hard your cheeks were burning.

How could you? Thank God Daredevil had the foresight to realize that it'd be an awkward morning saying hello to a man you didn't even know. You turned your head to look at his escape route. The window to your balcony was open, the curtains fluttering from a halcyon breeze. Even Hell's Kitchen could be peaceful, you mused.

What happened last night was both consensual and between two sober-minded adults, but you couldn't define the trudge to the bathroom as anything but a walk of shame. However, you were less ashamed and more in disbelief. Had that really happened? A superhero landed right on your doorstep and you two shagged like a pair of horny canaries…

Considering your boring life, and your tendency to maintain that boring life, you mentally gave yourself a pat on the back for doing something a bit wild for once.

You could've dwelt on the matter more. But in the corner of your bathroom mirror, you spied the glowing numbers on your alarm clock and the day on your calendar.

It was 7 am, it was a weekday, and it was time for work.

The day had gone just how it always did.

In heat, with stale office air, and with clients filing in and out.

You had to admit you felt a bit out of the loop, as if Matt, Foggy, and Karen were constantly on another page with each other. You had joined the group last, but did that warrant them to keep secrets?

Soon it was closing time; the day was chased away by the night. A owl hooted, making you shiver. Hell's Kitchen was a menace at night.

Karen and Foggy had left to a bar, leaving you and Matt to close up shop. They had been growing closer, and you were happy for the both of them. You bit your lip, allowing yourself to stare at Matt unabashedly now that there was no one to notice. For a second, you were relieved that Matt was blind. Then you felt deep shame for thinking so selfishly. Nevertheless, you shook your feelings away and went back to committing all of Matt's features to memory. His stubble, his glasses, his hair…

Then you flinched when you noticed the object of your affections snapped his head to where you were.

"That's a bit distracting," Matt said, smirk on his lips.

You paled; he noticed you staring? Were you so obvious even a blind man could tell you were checking him out? You followed Matt's line of 'sight.'

Your eyes landed onto your hand, which was tapping a pencil back and forth violently. "Sorry," you nervously murmured. You coughed and returned to filing the last of the papers. It was odd how a man who couldn't see made you feel so tiny under his gaze.

The clock on the wall ticked, making the silence in the room even more unbearable. Would it be rude to excuse yourself? After all, the day had been so busy you needed time to just think for a while.

What Daredevil had counseled you about was running through your head. You hated that you had to suffer like this. Why couldn't you just tell him? If nothing but to just get it over with. Just trust him?

You opened your mouth to speak, not certain if the words would come out.

Matt, I have to tell you something.

…

And just as you thought, they didn't. You sat there at your desk, with your mouth gaping.

The anxiety of confessing paralyzed you. He didn't like you, how could he? Chances were he didn't even like men, despite all the flirting he did. He was just kidding around with you. They were just jokes. It'd be embarrassing if he found out just how they deeply they affected you. You closed your mouth, resigning yourself to silence. You cursed yourself and your weakness.

Matt had gone eerily quiet, his expression undecipherable. A tear ran down your cheek when his voice startled you.

"Something the matter?"

You gasped. You hadn't even realized you were holding your breath. Nor had you realized how hard your heart was beating in your chest.

You wiped your face furiously, hoping he didn't hear a sniffle.

"Nothing," you responded nasally. Your licked your dry lips. Matt didn't say anything.

There was a pregnant pause in the air.

"Well, since we're here alone, you might as well entertain me." You shivered, feeling a niggling in the back of your mind.

"I… I was just wondering." You swallowed thickly.

The lawyer cocked an eyebrow, silently questioning.

"Your full name is Matthew... right?"

Oh my God, you groaned. Could you have said anything dumber?

Matt hid his grin behind his hand, but didn't bother to stop his silent laughter from racking his body.

You sputtered, "I mean, there are people who have nicknames nothing like their real names!" His laughter got louder, making you only more frustrated. "Like how Dick is short for Richard! It makes no sense!" You puffed out your chest, folding your arms at your desk. You didn't notice the coil of anxiety in your stomach unwind itself.

"Don't worry," Matt said between chuckles, "it's cute."

You bit the inside of your cheek to keep from smiling too widely at being called cute, as much at it pleased you.

You huffed, "Shut up—"

The door bounded open behind you. Matt stopped laughing, acutely focused on the noise. You turned, expecting it to be Karen or Foggy, who must've forgotten something. Instead it was a knife that glinted threateningly in the light. A burly, hooded man was its wielder. A gnarly scar ran across his face.

"Which one of you is Nelson, and which one of you is Murdock," he growled, or rather, spat at you. His voice alone unhinged you, but the snarl on his face froze you to your seat.

You squeaked out, glancing at Matt, who looked grave. His jaw was tight and his tense posture showed he was willing to put up a fight.

But of course, you couldn't let a blind man take the brunt of the assault this intruder was most certainly about to dish out.

"I-I'm Murdock," you forced out. The man's attention now acutely focused on you, and in his eyes was a thirst for blood you had never been confronted with before. You deeply regretted saying anything, and staying behind after hours, and any other course of action that may have led to this. You could pinpoint the moment this intruder's body coiled up to pounce on you, when the muscles must've tightened underneath his clothing. His blade was about to run plunge through your gut like liquid pain.

You braced yourself for a stab that never came.

Matt was across the room in a second, moving with the efficiency and measure he couldn't have had. He disarmed the man, but failed to block the elbow that connected painfully with his jaw. You cried out. The intruder gave Matt another jab but this time into the gut. You realized how Matt stood in between you and the attacker, trying to divert him to the left. You would've felt flattered beyond all belief that Matt was willing to take a knifing for you, if it weren't for the fear that jolting through your being.

Light from the ground winked at you, and you realized it was the knife. Matt's glasses, probably thrown off in the wrestle, were right beside it. Your eyes jumped to the two men brawling it out, and you took the opportunity to grab the blade. You winced hearing Matt grunt in pain, but resolved yourself.

You bent down and picked it up. You bounded forward and managed to slice through the attacker's bicep. In return you felt his fist pummel your side with two solid hits that would certainly bruise. You crumpled to the floor, dizzy. You heard Matt growl along with other noises of the scuffle. This was a beast of a man you two were dealing with. But out of you two only the blind man was putting up any real fight. There was a niggling in the back of your mind.

"You bastards need to mind your own business!" What was he talking about?

You struggled back up, your fingers still curled around the handle.

Seeing Matt stagger back at a punch, you plunged the dagger into the criminal's back. He howled, arching his back. Even if it was for a moment, he was weakened. You aimed your next sloppy attack for his neck, only survival on your mind.

"No!" Matt cried. No? You looked up at him, confused. He was reaching out towards you, to stop you.

The attacker gave you a sharp uppercut, knocking you back. You landed on your back, knowing that you were down for the count this time.

As if God himself was raining mercy, the attacker bounded up to his feet and dashed out the door. You groaned, curling into a ball on the floor.

Matt knelt beside you, curling a hand on your cheek. His lips were set in a tight thin line.

"[Name]," he began, in a steady voice. "Call the police, and then go. Home." What?

Matt stood and your heart jumped. Wasn't he going to stay with you? Where was he going?

Through your blurry vision you saw him look determinedly at the doorway the intruder had fled out of and pull some black fabric out his pocket. Matt grabbed his cane and ran out.

You were scared. What was he going to do? Pursue that animal?

You shakily climbed up to your feet, not about to let Matt Murdock die on your watch.

You bounded out into the street, still limping a bit from pain that was residing. You looked around, wishing you had some super smell or super hearing to track them down. You spied dark red, which trailed off around the corner.

You followed it with haste, unable to shake off a bad feeling.

Matt Murdock barreled past the civilians on the street, gaining on the intruder. That man was sent to kill them. Nelson & Murdock must have learned too much for their enemies' comfort. What they hadn't foreseen was that Nelson was out, and that Murdock wasn't a lawyer that'd go down so easy. As Murdock raced into a back alley, he donned the black mask he carried around whenever he had to become the Daredevil without his suit on hand. He ripped off his button-up shirt and his tie, a dark sleeved shirt underneath.

The attacker took a sharp left, and so did he.

"Matt!" you whispered. The night was dark and full of terror—terror coming from namely, you. You were scared. Why did he abandon you so steadfastly? What did that intruder know, or what was he going to do, that had Matt in such a rush?

The trail of blood had ended. At a loss, you ran into any random back road.

You saw Daredevil and the intruder, punching it out. You groaned; you didn't care about this!

Where is Matt? your mind screamed.

Daredevil, who you remembered had been your one-night lover, seemed to have the advantage. The man who had attacked you clawed at Daredevil's eyes. With one more series of punches, you saw the attacker fly back into garbage cans, defeated. You sighed in relief that the threat was gone. You took a step forward to approach the Devil of Hell's Kitchen, to ask him if he had seen a lawyer running anywhere nearby.

Daredevil grunted, lifting his mask to rub at his eyes. Your hand, outstretched to touch him, stopped in its tracks.

Daredevil pulled his cover back down, turning to you. He jumped, truly startled. He started to sputter, but you knew it couldn't have been because he was shocked to see you again so soon.

You looked at him with sad eyes, and Matt clenched his fists, looking down. The niggling in the back of your head became an answer to the possibility you never considered. Everything made sense.

In silence, Matt tied the attacker up securely. He looked at you solemnly. Then he wrapped an arm around you and brought you back his house.

"Are… are you even blind?" you asked numbly when you two were in the comfort of his apartment. You leaned on a desk, and he stood far away.

Matt—still masked—exhaled, as if this was physically taxing for him.

"It… It's complicated."

"Complicated?"

Matt grimaced at your tone.

"Who else knows?" You were close to crying, and you weren't proud of it. You felt like you were acting too hysterical, too sensitive.

"No one, besides you and a nurse I know who… patches me up." Matt's face was like stone, but his body showed he was clearly embarrassed. But was it just because he got caught?

"To patch you up? So you regularly get the snot beaten out of you?" you asked incredulously. "Like last night?"

You almost had a fucking heart attack. Last night. You let out a strangled noise.

"Last night, you… I… we," you gasped, peeking through your fingers. Even if you could excuse the fact that you had had sex with him, which would've sent butterflies awry in your stomach in any other situation, Matt knew you liked him. He knew how you felt! And he had been just going along with it, kept playing this sick game as you stewed over it in your head, dying a slow death.

"And you knew how I felt! You knew!" you accused him, waiting for a reaction, for a 'sorry'. He just stood there, staring at the ground with his fucking maybe-blind eyes.

"I hate you," you choked, watching him walk towards you.

When he had finally stopped, he stood in front of you, still and watchful. You couldn't keep yourself from leaning in.

You were angry, livid that Matt had hid something like this from you, from everyone! Angry that now you would be burdened with his secret as well. Matt relieved you of your shirt, and you felt suddenly very somber. Matt was risking his life like this on a daily basis. It wasn't enough for him to be a lawyer; he also had to beat the sense into criminals with his fists? Hell's Kitchen was a breeding ground for crime. When would it stop? Would it ever?

Matt connected the two of you in a fierce kiss raw in emotion. You could taste the salt of your tears.

"Why," you hiccuped. Matt didn't say anything, attacking your neck with kisses and leaving marks. Each one was like a little apology.

"I'm so sorry," Matt supplied weakly.

"I forgive you," you breathed.

You reached behind Matt's head and fumbled with his shirt, pulling it over and off him. The both of you were bare-chested and Matt didn't waste a second to create friction between the two of you. You trembled at the feel of his hardened stomach on yours, letting out a breathless moan.

"Please," you whimpered, eyes meaningfully directed at your pants. They were so tight. Matt left you with a chaste kiss on your lips before he knelt, eye level with your crotch. You shut your eyes and let your head bob back as he unzipped them. The relief was enough to tell you they were off. And not a second after you twitched at the cool air hitting your naked thighs, telling you your boxers were off as well.

A hand grasped your length, kneading it experimentally before stopping. You looked down, seeing Matt pause in his work. You wondered if he was nervous, if he had never done this before. Then you realized he was stepping back to enjoy the moment. You bit your thumb, wondering if you should snap him out of it.

Feeling a wave of arousal hit your core, and you decided it had been long enough. You writhed restlessly, hoping he'd get the gist. He did, if his grin was anything to go by. That same playful grin…

Matt's mouth ghosted around your tip and your breath hitched. Your eyes fluttered shut. "Matt."

You felt his wet hot mouth clasp around you, before feeling cold air again.

You were about to whine when Matt stood back up and laid you down on your back on his desk. He peeled off his mask, stunning you with glittering dark eyes. You stroked his scruffy cheek with your hand tenderly, guiding his face to yours intimately. Matt squeezed you, earning a hot gasp that hit his lips. He captured your lips in one fell swoop of a kiss. While keeping your mouth busy, he let both his hands wander off. One to the drawer of his desk, and the other to the lower half of your body.

You broke off from his kiss with a yelp, panting for air. You let out an involuntary moan when you felt Matt prod and probe at your ass again. Your toes curled as Matt kneaded your skin.

He returned with two wet, lubricated fingers. You spied a bottle of lubricant not too far off and wondered when he had found that. But you weren't allowed to guess for long before Matt pushed past your tight ring of muscles.

He hushed and whispered into your ear sweet things that made your ears burn, relax being one of them.

After a while of feeling cold fingers flexing themselves inside you, they retreated, taking the heat that coiled in your stomach with them. You breathed, knowing this was only the beginning.

Matt positioned himself. He started slowly, allowing you to take him in one inch at a time. Then he propelled himself in entirety into you.

Each time you felt the base of his cock hit your rear (each and every time), you heard him say your name. You felt him rubbing the small of your back in such a way that both relaxed you and made you on high alert of him at the same time. You saw the muscles in his body tighten rhythmically, warning you of the intensity of his eminent release.

And while you noted all these things, you didn't realize Matt Murdock was cursing himself, angry that the world on fire wouldn't clear up so he could see your face. So he could see your naked figure, your twitching fingers, your throbbing erection.

"Matt, I'm," you choked, overwhelmed with all the sensations you were feeling. Matt had taken to pumping your erection, urging it to climax.

"I know," he gritted. "I am too." You chuckled, happy to see him frustrated for once. Even if he was propelling himself less into your body and more through it. Your chuckle turned into a gasp after one particularly fierce thrust.

The both of you could feel it coming. You laced your fingers with his, wanting proof that this was real and neither of you were going anywhere. Matt worked out one final thrust, and you tightened yourself around him, ready to milk him for all he was worth. You purred as his seed filled you hotly. It was a feeling more satisfying than anything you had known before. Matt shuddered, giving a meaningful pinch to your nipples.

In the aftermath of your orgasm, you two lied there, leaking onto the dark wood of his desk.

Matt attempted to unsheathe himself from you, and you wrapped your legs around his waist to keep from slipping off his form. You refused separate from him. He all but collapsed a few feet away in a failed attempt to get you to his bedroom. You chuckled into his skin, much too tired to try and move yourself.

He sat with folded legs, bringing your arms from around his shoulders to in front of him. He cradled your hands with his and brought them to his lips. In the wispy light that wrapped around you both, you figured it was the perfect time to tell him.

"I love you," you said.

He dotting your palms with kisses.

"I do," you reiterated.

Matt looked up at you with kind brown eyes. The light from the billboard outside cast them in warm hues. He smiled so naturally and genuinely it made your heart jump one last time.

"I know." He kissed your knuckles, an innocent gesture as you sat on his lap, feeling full with him still in you. "I love you too," he whispered.

You had never felt more at ease or carefree; this felt normal.