Daredevil Fan Fiction

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I take no credit for the original ideas of the new Marvel’s Daredevil TV show. The work here is purely my own fan fiction based on some aspects of the show. Matt Murdoch is the same with a new character added in of my own making.

SO HERE WE GO.

___________________________________________________

Right cross. Right cross. Left hook. Duck.

Punch-punch. KICK.

Two uppers to the ribs. Right hook. BAM. Take one to the left side of my face.

I spare a second to glance at my opponent. The dark scruff whispers across his tight jaw and high cheekbones. And those eyes. Even though they don’t see, they are the color of dark cocoa framed by full lashes.

We circle each other. He’s breathing hard, and so am I.

The air is heavy with sweat, heavy breathing, and the sound of gloves colliding.

It’s after hours, because for some reason Mat likes to practice after closing. The streetlight filters in through the windows, casting dark yellow shadows in the room.

Matt throws two right crosses. I dodge both, and we circle each other.

“You’ve got speed on your side because you’re smaller,” he says with a smile.

“HA! And you’ve got years of experience and a boxing legend as your father. I’d say the advantage lies with you.” He laughs and we keep circling, keep throwing punches.

“You’re like a machine! I don’t get how you do it.” I pant. “It’s like you have a sixth sense about where I am and what I’m about to do.”

“Maybe I do.” He actually seems serious. A loud door slamming startles us both.

We turn to see some men in black sauntering up to the ring.

“Hey fellas, it’s after hours. Sam says I’m not allowed to let anyone else in.” Matt shouts as they walk forward.

Laughter ripples through the group. It’s hard to see their faces because the only light is shining on us.

The first man emerges from the shadows enough for me to see that he’s bald. His mustache reminds me of some cartoon character, and I count five men behind him.

“Aw, is that so?” He thick, deep Southern drawl echoes in the room, and my heart picks up speed.

His friends are whispering behind him, snickering.

I feel Matt coming to stand next to me.

“Hey look guys, we don’t want any trouble. I’m sure you can understand, we’re both just here to do some hitting and leave.”

“So, I see. You like to have this pretty lady all to your self.”

A guy in the shadows yells the b word at me to the delight of his friends and he is rewarded with another round of snickers. The bald man says, “Look, we don’t want no trouble either. Just wanted to have a little fun. See this one up close.

Matt is stiff as a rod next to me and this last comment has him moving to jump onto the ground and up into Baldy’s face, but I put out my hand and stop him.

I hop down onto the ground, and stand toe to toe with Baldy.

“I have a name actually. Why don’t you all just run along? We don’t have time for this.”

This caused an up roar and another onslaught of lovely female names came crashing down around me. I turned around and began packing up my things as usual.

Matt’s chest was rising up down up down up down, faster than I’d ever seen it before. I could see him coiling to spring,

“Matt! No! They aren’t worth it.” This held him back a second longer.

My cheeks were flushed, I was pissed, but I’ve been called names before. These people weren’t worth my time of day.

But then they did it.

“Aw, look. Your disable boyfriend is trying to defend you!”

It all went quiet. White flashed in my eyes, I wheeled around and I placed the best right hook you’ve ever seen straight into Baldy’s jaw and actually took him to the ground.

The rest swarmed Matt, then me. And oh, were we glad.

Matt blocked and ducked and kicked them out one by one.

And I did the same. Right. Right. Upper, knee, BOOM. Down.

I also got a few good crotch shots which are my personal favorite.

I glanced around, no one else was coming at me and I see Matt breathing heavy looking down at the unconscious guys at his feet and mine.

We look at each other, and both let a little chuckle escape, and then a full on guffaw.

“We better get outta here!” he says.

I zip up my favorite oversized blue hoodie, and swing my bag across my chest.

We drag them out and lock up.

It’s only after we’re blocks away that we take a moment.

He’s laughing so hard there are tears, and I have to perch myself against a wall to stay upright.

“What just happened?!?” I asked through the laughter.

“Holy cow!”

Matt just shakes his head, and then gets serious.

“They weren’t messing around. Sheesh. But they also had no idea who they were messing with.”

I watch Matt. See his rounded nose and black hoodie, he’s still trying to make light of it for me, I can tell. I sniff.

“Well thank goodness,” I say.

“Can I walk you back?” He asks.

“I know we don’t normally, but—“

“Matt, I’m fine. Look, I clearly know how to defend myself. Give me a little credit.”

“True. I also know you carry a .45mm in your bag.”

All the air goes out of my lungs. “What? How did you know that?”

He hesitates. “I saw it in your bag when you were patching me up from my fall in the dumpster.”

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