The Fact That This Has 80 Views On Wattpad Has Me So Excited Lol,, I Was Really Nervous About Publishing

the fact that this has 80 views on wattpad has me so excited lol,, i was really nervous about publishing something with an original character as the main character,, hope yall liked it :)) let me know if you’d like me to upload the chapters on here as well bc chapter 2 is coming soon (i say this as i scroll through matt edits on tiktok instead of actually writing lol) 

I would definitely want that link to the Wattpad story about Matt. Honestly the lack of mat fanfic out there is a crime

the lack of fanfics for matt really is criminal 😭im trying hard to make up the difference.

I made this on wattpad and it's a multi-chapter fic idea have and it is an OC bc im trying to get more comfortable creating my own characters. If you check this out, i really hope you like it :)) if anyone is interested, i'd be happy to upload it on tumblr too

https://www.wattpad.com/1170694507-nightmare-in-hell%27s-kitchen-chapter-one

Wattpad

Nightmare in Hell's Kitchen - Chapter One

Read Chapter One from the story Nightmare in Hell's Kitchen by emmaisfrommars (emilia🌙) with 2 reads. fanfic, matt, m...

sneak peak: matt murdock x ex-black widow! reader

a/n this fic has become sooo much longer than i originally thought it’d be, but i really want to put out something, so here’s my current favorite scene :)) (also im thinking about splitting it up into a mini series bc i’m doing so much lmao) if you want to be tagged in the full thing lmk :))

also writing matt murdock fics is about to become my new obsession bc i have so many ideas and i love his character and i really hope he comes off at least kind of accurate bc ive never written him before, so if this is bad im really sorry and im still getting used to him :))

also!! for this fic to make sense let’s all pretend that even with extensive research, someone wouldn’t know that natasha died when everyone came back from the blip :)) it’s part of the plot of the full fic 

Blood coats my fingers again. I wonder if something happens frequently enough if there’s still a point in using tenses. My hands were bloody; my hands will be bloody; my hands are bloody. If it’s promised to happen again, was I ever really free of its stain? 

The fighting is done. At least it is for now. Tonight was not particularly hard, in the physical sense. I’ve attacked people more prepared for someone of my skill level. I’ve attacked people with more dangerous weapons. I’ve been more violent, more brutal. But the people that lay near me, still breathing but broken, something about them sits with me incorrectly. They are a rib out of place in the chest. 

Wow. I’m not making any sense, not even to myself. I look at my hands again, the blood of my knuckles has combined itself with the blood of those I hurt. I can’t bring myself to feel sorry for them, but grief still burrows itself into me. 

These men were hurting girls. Children. The youngest that the masked men had tried to take was only 11. There was a time in which I was the frightened little girl, forced into a shipping crate with other frightened girls. Back then, all I had wanted was for it to be over. All I had wanted was for some kind of savior to break through the metal and fight off the monsters so that I could be anywhere else. 

Tonight I was that savior for those girls. I should feel better. I did something good. Natasha...she’d smile at me if she was here. She’d look at me and tell me that I did good. That should make me feel content, more focused, like there’s some kind of direction I know to move in. 

But it doesn’t. All I feel is her absence. I even feel the loss of Yelena, and I’m the one that told her to stay away. My fingers curl inwards, nails digging into the palms of my hands.

“That was efficient.” His voice is a reminder of why I can’t lose it here, on the abandoned side of the shipping docks.

Turning enough to look at him, I force myself to take a deep breath. A patient breath. There was something almost awkward about the way he said that. “You wanted my help.” I helped. I should feel better. “And I played by your rules. No one died.” The final word feels off. “I won’t apologize for my efficiency.” 

He’s still, watching me like he sees right through me. The part of me that clings to a life beyond bloody hands wants to shrink away. To vanish until it’s morning. With daylight comes the promise of normality. The day will let me shed this mission suit and replace it with the business casual wear of an intern of a law firm. I like that version of me better...she’s whole.

“No apologies necessary.” I blink, fighting the urge to turn even more. He’s closer than I realized. “I’m just curious.” 

Of course. That’s the problem with team ups or even just temporary mutual existence. The other person always wants to ask questions, and I can never offer them answers. I’m a former black widow assassin isn’t the kind of phrase that just rolls off the tongue. Especially not in front of him. 

The devil of Hell’s Kitchen, someone that everyone here knows to fear, and yet he doesn’t...he doesn’t kill. If he knew all the blood that stains me, if he knew about all the red in my ledger...

“And I’m just reminding you that my one stipulation to this was no questions.”

I knew this was a bad idea. Even when we just happen to run into each other he expresses too much interest in who I am. Why I can do the things I can do. I know that he feels like he’s protecting his neighborhood by making sure that I don’t have any ill tensions. The false sense of security is a good thing, it means that we can both co-exist in peace. But tonight I’m not in the mood to play coy and skirt around the words I won’t say, revealing just enough to appease him. I’m also not in the mood to draw a line in the sand and make him think I’m a threat. There’s no doubt in my mind that if need be, I could take him. He’d be a worthy opponent, but not an unbeatable one. But maybe I don’t want to beat him. Maybe I don’t want to fight anymore. Maybe I just want to put my widow suit on the top shelf of my apartment’s closet and never look at it again. 

We should part ways. The bad guys have been taken care of. The girls have been freed, the way I could have been years ago. There’s no reason for both of us to still be here. There’s no reason fro him to be less than an arm’s length away. And yet, we both stay still. 

“You’re normally more open to friendly conversation.” The words snap me back to reality. I’ve been playing too close to a line I can’t cross. The last time I trusted someone, I learned to never do risk that again.

I force my hands to ease at my side. “We’re friends now?”

“I don’t take down human trafficking rings with just anyone.” He’s joking. He’s just trying to ease me into our normal dynamic. But the words still strike me in the heart. Memories of the day I got Natasha back and the day I stopped seeing Yelena as my protector wash through me, a torrid, unforgiving current. 

It’s been years now. Years of silence. I haven’t seen Nat since she told me what she was planning to do with the Avengers. I haven’t seen Yelena since she told me the truth of the day I became a true widow. The end of the red room was the first and last familial moment I got. “For the record, neither do I.” 

“And I’ve never taken anything down that fast.” He pauses, testing the waters. “If you were always around, I’d have time to pick up a hobby.”

He’s trying to appeal to my usual attitude. I have to give him something. It’s not his fault that the memories are hitting me more frequently than usual. And if I don’t seem at least somewhat stable, he’ll start thinking I’m planning something. He may start seeing me as some kind of threat. “Is the mysterious day job followed by nights of crime fighting not fulfilling enough?”

“The day job isn’t as interesting as you’re making it seem to be.” There’s an easiness to his words. He’s taking my attempt to act normal.

I shift on my heels, almost relaxing. “I wouldn’t know because you won’t tell me what it is.” 

“And you won’t tell me how you learned to...be so efficient.” He’s referencing the way I fight. I can’t blame him for pressing this issue so much. A random girl shows up in his city, his neighborhood, with brutal skills and strength that would better suit someone twice her size. Of course he feels the need to ask questions. 

I inhale, wondering what my next move is. I could remind him that the less we know about the other, the better. That I know not to ask questions as long as he does the same. But the thing is, I don’t want to. Maybe it’s because he’s faceless. Maybe it’s because when I wear this suit I don’t feel like I’m me anymore. Or maybe it’s because I’m tired of pretending my past is tearing into me more and more with each passing day. 

“Would you believe me if I told you it’s a family thing?” The honesty threatens to leave my throat raw. I’m treading on a dangerous line. “That I learned everything I know from my sisters?” 

He tilts his head slightly, exposing the side of his jaw--which is something I shouldn’t be as aware of as I am. “So an entire family of people like you? Fighting for the good?” 

I don’t have it in me to think about the wya he says that. The words are stomach twisting enough. Fighting for the good. Is that even a fair thing to say now? Natasha certainly started fighting for the good. I don’t know where Yelena is. And I--I’m just trying to make up for everything I’ve done, everything I’ve been forced to do. 

“What if we weren’t always doing that?” My throat burns, the way it often did when I would tell Natasha about the memories. When I would tell her about being a ghost in my own body. “Fighting for the good?”

I regret the words as soon as they’re out of my mouth. Dropping my head, I prepare to step back. To disappear in the shadows in the way I’m used to. He starts to move. To his credit, he’s faster than a normal person, so he does manage to place a hand on my shoulder, but not before my fingers wrap around his wrist. It’s his move next. I’m tense, expecting some kind of attack. 

“I would say that you’re doing that now.” I watch him, he stays quiet. When nothing else is said...when nothing else is done, I find it in me to unclench my fingers and let my hand fall to my side. He still doesn’t move. “And that counts for something.” 

i LOVED 48 hrs, the interactions between matt and the reader were brilliant!! would you be writing a part two?:) it was beautifully written!!

ahh hi!! thank you so much! yes im working on a second part and it should be up pretty soon!!

Matt murdock x reader concepts that have become very near and dear to me over my daredevil, sick day binge

and yes, im sharing concepts bc this is the only way i get motivation at this point and im almost done with part 2 to my NWH fic and i need to get these ideas out of my head/documented in order to focus on that if that makes sense lol

--  former black widow! reader

- im sorry but do i even have to elaborate on why im obsessed with this rn?? the moral strain bc the reader has killed people while under mind control, and i can just picture her trying to build a life after being freed but she still has flashbacks and wants to be a good person, and maybe some hawkeye overlap?? like she was really close to natasha and yelena and yelena finds her?? i can really picture a scene where hawkeye and kate try to get daredevil to help with fisk and the reader learns what happened to natasha and tries to kill clint and yelena pulls up at the last second 

-- party/rich girl! reader

- reader is a party girl that comes from blood money and after a wild night out she ends up needing a lawyer and then after she realizes something is up with her dad and she finds out he’s doing some villain stuff and then she goes through some character development and gets herself cut off and Matt offers her an internship and then she develops a crush and she’s like stop it😭,, i can see this being a series with legally blonde vibes low key lol

-- legally blonde vibes! reader entirely

- that last bit i talked about in the bullet point above? really similar but this just centers on the reader being like this gifted law student and she has her pick of firms and she ends up working at nelson and murdock, idk just thought the dynamic could be cute and i love the elle woods-ification of male dominated fields

-- super hero! reader

- very inspired by No Way Home vibes, like the reader is a superhero and something happened and she needs legal representation and everyone knows her alter ego (like how Tony Stark was, where everyone’s pretty chill about it) 

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"I disappeared into books when I was very young, disappeared into them like someone running into the woods."

—Rebecca Solnit