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hi! Iโm not sure if this is your inbox for requests, Iโm sorry Iโm still trying to understand the interface of tumblr sometimes, if I am mistaken please forgive me and ignore this. I love your work and I think you page noted that requests are in fact open, I especially love the way to write the DC bats, how devoted they are, I hope it not out of turn to request this but I wondered if youโd write anything with them in a bit of a dire situation where their darling is dying or perhaps theyโve discovered them already dead. No trouble of course if thatโs just not something youโd want to write of course, love your work either way, I hope you have a great day.
Hi, it's alright love. Thank you so much I'm glad you like my works.
Well I'm writing a dead dove dark fic just like how I wrote "DEAD LOVER" for DD men (you can check it out here) and yes it's the same hc with the same name. And it's a dead dove fic, so it's dark and disturbing.
I can always write a safe angsty normal version. If you want an angsty version with them just being in pain let me know :)
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
โ Live Streamingโ Interactive Chatโ Private Showsโ HD Quality
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synopsisโโ :: โ a quiet evening with you unravels when dex realizes he canโt stand the softness in your voice every time mattโs name comes up. what starts as ordinary conversation turns sharp and ugly under the weight of his jealousy, until one careless question ruin everything.
includingโโ ! โ benjamin poindexter. โถ
contentsโโ ! โ fem reader. obsession. jealous dex. dex is mentally unstable as usual. angst. part 1 + part 2 + part 3 + part 4 + part 5. masterlist. gifs by @.novagif. english is not my first language. โถ
The conversation is fine.
That's the worst part.
Nothing is wrong.
You're sitting across from him in the little cafรฉ you dragged him to after work. Your hot chocolate has gone half cold because you keep forgetting to drink it. The whipped cream collapsed into a soft white puddle twenty minutes ago.
You're talking.
Smiling.
Laughing.
The city glows beyond the window behind you. Rainwater still clings to the glass in thin silver veins.
Everything is fine.
Everything should be fine.
"โand then Foggy told him that was literally illegalโ"
You laugh.
Dex smiles automatically.
The right response.
Smile.
Nod.
Listen.
You're telling a story.
This is normal.
This is what friends do.
You keep talking.
"And Mattโ"
There he is.
Again.
Dex stares down at his coffee.
Don't.
Leave it alone.
He can feel it starting.
That awful pressure.
Like a bruise being pressed repeatedly.
Not enough to injure.
Just enough to remind you it's there.
You keep talking.
Something about Matt helping somebody.
Something about Matt saying something funny.
Something about Matt being stubborn.
Something about Matt smiling.
Something about Matt.
Matt.
Matt.
Matt.
The name keeps appearing.
Again.
Again.
Again.
And every single time your face softens.
Every single time.
His stomach tightens.
Stop it.
Leave it alone.
It's none of your business.
She can have friends.
People are allowed to have friends.
Normal people talk about their friends.
Normal people don't sit there dissecting every smile and every word and every blush.
Stop.
You keep talking.
Dex takes a drink of coffee.
Bitter.
Cold now.
He barely tastes it.
"...and then Karen saidโ"
Good.
Karen.
Talk about Karen.
Karen is safe.
Karen doesn't make his chest hurt.
"But Mattโ"
Fuck.
His jaw tightens.
You don't notice.
You never notice things like that.
Lucky.
He notices everything.
You keep talking.
"...and Matt went toโ"
Buzz.
The sound appears suddenly.
Faint.
Electric.
Somewhere deep inside his skull.
Buzz.
His fingers tighten around the coffee cup.
No.
Not now.
Buzz.
The conversation keeps going.
Your mouth keeps moving.
But the words start slipping apart strangely.
Like they're underwater.
Like they're being pulled away from him.
Buzz.
Leave it alone.
Leave it alone.
Leave it alone.
You don't need to know.
You don't want to know.
If she likes him then she likes him.
What difference does it make?
Buzz.
Your smile widens again.
There.
That smile.
That fucking smile.
The one you only seem to get when you're talking about him.
Buzz.
His chest feels tight.
Too tight.
The cafรฉ suddenly feels warmer.
Smaller.
The sounds around him begin stretching strangely.
Silverware.
Voices.
Traffic.
Buzz.
Stop.
You don't need to ask.
You absolutely should not ask.
None of this is your business.
You're being weird.
You're being obsessive.
Stop.
You keep talking.
He can't hear any of it anymore.
Just pieces.
Fragments.
"...Matt..."
Buzz.
"...he said..."
Buzz.
"...brown eyes..."
Buzz.
"...Matt..."
The name keeps hitting him.
Over and over.
Like something tapping directly against a cracked tooth.
Buzz.
His pulse is loud now.
His thoughts are louder.
Don't.
Don't.
DON'Tโ
"Do you like him?"
Silence.
The words leave his mouth before he can stop them.
The second they're out, his stomach drops.
Fuck.
Your smile disappears.
"Huh?"
Dex can hears his own heartbeat.
Too fast.
Way too fast.
You blink at him.
Confused.
Then uncertain.
"Matt," he says.
His voice sounds strange.
Too sharp.
Too direct.
"Do you like him?"
Fuck.
Stop.
Stop talking.
You glance away immediately.
And that alone feels like an answer.
"I-I don't understand what you're talking about."
You're lying.
Or maybe you're not.
Maybe you're confused.
Maybe you're uncomfortable.
Maybeโ
Stop.
Your fingers tighten around your cup.
You still won't look at him.
See?
See that?
She knows.
She knows exactly what you're asking.
She just doesn't want to answer.
Because the answer is obvious.
Because you're making things weird.
Because you always make things weird.
"Dexโ"
Don't.
Don't interrupt her.
Let it go.
Let it go right now.
"I think you know what I'm talking about."
The second he says it, he hates himself.
Your shoulders tense.
Slightly.
Just slightly.
But he sees it.
Of course he sees it.
"Dexโ"
"Oh, come on."
No.
Stop.
His own voice sounds wrong now.
Like somebody else talking through his mouth.
"Matt this."
You flinch.
"Matt that."
Stop.
"It's always Matt."
Stop.
"You can't go five minutes without talking about him, can you?"
He wants the words back.
Instantly.
Immediately.
Like reaching for a knife after it's already been thrown.
Fuck.
Fuck.
Fuck.
Your face changes.
Not dramatically.
Not loudly.
Justโ
small.
You look smaller somehow.
Your eyes drop toward the table.
Your voice comes out quieter.
"I'm sorry if I made you uncomfortable."
The guilt hits him so hard it almost makes him dizzy.
No.
No.
That's notโ
That's not what he meant.
He didn't meanโ
His eyes lift.
And then he sees it.
Your eyes.
Glassy.
Not crying yet.
But close.
That horrible shine sitting there.
The shine people get when they're trying very hard not to cry.
And suddenly every angry thought evaporates.
Gone.
Instantly.
Leaving only horror behind.
No.
No no no.
Fuck.
What have you done?
His stomach drops straight through the floor.
You weren't arguing.
You weren't getting defensive.
You were apologizing.
Apologizing.
Because you think you upset him.
Jesus Christ.
"Dex."
Your voice is small now.
Small enough to break him.
"No."
The word leaves him immediately.
Too fast.
"IโI didn't meanโ"
But you stand up.
The movement is quiet.
Gentle.
Somehow that makes it worse.
You don't look angry.
You don't yell.
You don't tell him he's an asshole.
You just stand.
And suddenly he realizes what's happening.
You're leaving.
No.
Please don't.
His chest tightens violently.
"I think I should go."
The words hit harder than they should.
Because they're calm.
Because they're final.
Because you won't look at him.
And for one horrible second, Dex doesn't move.
His brain simply refuses to understand what's happening.
You're leaving.
The words don't fit together properly.
People leave all the time.
He knows that.
People walk away from conversations every day.
But something about watching you stand there, avoiding his eyes, gathering your bag with shaking handsโ
it feels different.
Wrong.
Like watching a door close while he's still standing in the doorway.
No.
The word explodes inside his skull.
No no no no.
Not like this.
Not afterโ
Not after everything.
Not after the bracelet.
Not after your everyday coffee.
Not after all those walks home.
Not after you smiled every time you saw him walk through the door.
Not after you said you were friends.
You turn slightly.
And panic hits him.
Real panic.
The kind that feels like drowning.
Like suddenly realizing the ground underneath you isn't there anymore.
His chair scrapes violently against the floor.
"Whaโ"
He stands too fast.
People glance over.
He doesn't care.
You take a small step backward.
And somehow that hurts more than anything.
"No."
The word comes out rough.
Desperate.
"I didn't meanโ"
His hand closes around your wrist.
Instantly.
Without thinking.
Just instinct.
Just panic.
Just don't leave.
Your entire body freezes.
And the second he feels you freezeโ
the horror starts.
Because your skin is warm beneath his hand.
Because he can feel how hard he's holding you.
Because your eyes immediately drop to his grip.
Fuck.
Let go.
Let go right now.
"Dex."
Your voice sounds smaller now.
Please don't leave.
The thought is screaming so loudly he can barely hear anything else.
"I'm sorry."
The words start falling out.
Fast.
Messy.
"I didn't mean it like that, I swear, I wasn'tโI wasn't trying toโ"
His grip tightens unconsciously.
Not because he's angry.
Because he's terrified.
The difference doesn't matter.
Your face tightens slightly.
Pain.
He caused that.
He's hurting you.
The realization arrives and somehow still isn't enough to make him let go immediately.
Because the fear is bigger.
The fear of you leaving.
The fear of losing this.
Losing you.
"I'm sorry."
Again.
Again.
Again.
The words keep coming.
His thoughts are tripping over each other.
Fix it.
Fix it.
Fix it.
"I justโ"
God.
How does he explain this?
How does he explain the feeling of listening to you talk about Matt and feeling something inside him tear itself open?
How does he explain the jealousy?
The loneliness?
The ugly selfish part of him that wanted your attention and hated sharing it with a man he'd never even met?
How does he explain any of that without sounding insane?
He can't.
Because it is insane.
"I'm sorry," he says again.
His voice cracks.
"I didn't mean to upset you."
Your eyes close briefly.
And that's somehow worse.
You finally pull your arm.
Not violently.
Not angrily.
Just firmly.
Trying to get free.
Dex immediately realizes how hard he's holding you.
Too hard.
Way too hard.
His fingers release instantly.
Like he's been burned.
"Oh God."
The words leave him automatically.
Your wrist is red.
His stomach drops.
Your wrist is red.
You rub it instinctively.
And the shame that follows is so intense he almost feels sick.
Of course.
Of course this happened.
You give him kindness.
You give him friendship.
And he responds by grabbing you hard enough to leave marks.
Good job.
Fantastic.
You finally look at him.
Actually look at him.
And somehow that hurts more than if you'd been angry.
Because you look sad.
Not scared.
Not angry.
Sad.
"Dex."
His throat closes.
"I think..."
You hesitate.
Choosing your words carefully.
And that terrifies him.
Because people only choose words carefully when they're afraid of what happens if they don't.
"I think maybe it would be better if you didn't come by the cafรฉ for a little while."
The room goes silent.
At least to him.
Everything else disappears.
The words just keep echoing.
Don't come by.
Don't come by.
Don't come by.
You continue quietly.
"And maybe don't call me."
Each sentence feels like another door closing.
"Or text me."
Another one.
"Just for a little while."
Another.
Until there's almost nothing left.
You swallow.
"I think we both need some space."
Space.
The word feels enormous.
Cold.
Permanent.
Even though you didn't mean it that way.
Dex knows you didn't mean it that way.
But his brain doesn't care.
Because all it hears is:
Go away.
Go away.
Go away.
His chest hurts.
Actually hurts.
Like something sharp lodged itself between his ribs.
You look exhausted.
Heartbroken, almost.
Like this isn't easy for you either.
And somehow that's the final thing that breaks him.
The realization settles heavily inside him.
Just heavy.
Like wet concrete slowly filling his lungs.
You adjust your bag on your shoulder.
Neither of you speak.
Then finallyโ
"I'll see you around, okay?"
Your voice sounds fragile.
Dex opens his mouth.
Nothing comes out.
Because every apology feels useless now.
Every explanation feels selfish.
So all he manages is a small nod.
You give him one last sad smile.
Then turn.
And walk away.
This time he doesn't stop you.
He just stands there.
Watching.
Until the door closes behind you.
And for the first time since he met youโ
he has no idea what to do next.
If you want to be in my "pink bracelet" taglist let me know :)
ยฉ yunyuu 2026 : do not plagiarize, repost, or translate works without the knowledge or consent of the creator in other platforms or websites.
synopsisโโ :: โ the way they cope after your death.
includingโโ ! โ matt murdock. benjamin poindexter. โถ
contentsโโ ! โ fem reader. obsession. angst. both matt and dex are fucked in the head. dead dove? not really. nsfw in matt's part. gifs by @.emziess. masterlist. english is not my first language. โถ
MATT MURDOCK
Sex.
He will have sex constantly.
Every morning. Every night. Sometimes in the middle of the day when the silence becomes too much.
He fucks women who wear the exact same perfume you used. The one that still makes his cock twitch when he catches it on the wind.
He seeks out women whose heartbeats sync almost perfectly with the rhythm he still hears in his sleep. Women who moan his name in that same breathy pitch you once did, right before you cum on his tongue.
Matt always growls your name when he cums inside. Every single time.
โY/nโโ torn out like a prayer as he spills into a strangerโs cunt, hips stuttering, eyes squeezed shut so he can pretend itโs your wet heat milking him.
He knows itโs disgusting. He knows itโs vile.
But itโs the only way he can bury the grief, the guilt, the self hatred that rots him from the inside like maggots in a open wound.
Because he couldnโt protect you.
Because he didn't do shit.
He's daredevil isn't he? The devil of hellโs kitchen. The hand of god himself.
And yet he couldnโt keep one woman safe. One fragile, beautiful woman.
Itโs his fault. All of it. Every fucking second of it.
Because he was selfish. Because he loved the suit more than you. Because he wanted to be superior to Fisk, better than the devil whispering in his ear.
Because he was a hypocrite who preached justice but did nothing when you needed him.
What a pathetic piece of shit.
If he had just been faster... If he had been strongerโฆ If he had just killedโ
Yeah. If.
It's always "what if."
Would it bring you back?
Would it let him taste your skin one more time instead of some strangerโs sweat?
What would you think if you saw him like this?
His face between another womanโs thighs just because her laugh sounded a little like yours for three pathetic seconds?
Would you be mad?
Disgusted?
Disappointed?
Or happy?
Are you happy now?
Are you smiling now? Do you laugh when heโs like this? Broken, leaking cum and tears into someone who isnโt you?
You must be.
You hated him, after all.
Thatโs when the hysterical laughter starts bubbling up while heโs still balls deep inside some poor womanโs pussy.
She is freaked out. He can tell by her heartbeats.
What was her name again?
Emma?
Emily?
Y/n.
Fuck.
He misses you.
He misses you so much. So much it feels like his ribcage is caving in, bones splintering inward to stab his heart.
He can't breathe.
Thereโs a stone lodged in his throat, heavy and sharp, and he doesnโt know if he wants to swallow it or vomit it up along with everything else rotting inside him.
His dick goes soft instantly. And then the tears come, hot and ugly, while some stranger holds him like a broken child, stroking his hair as he sobs your name into her tits.
Please come back.
Please.
He be better.
He do anything you want.
Just come back.
Please...
BENJAMIN POINDEXTER
The day you died, he had a mental breakdown.
His brain simply couldn't accept that you were dead.
You were not dead. You could not be dead.
Of course you're not dead.
You're sleeping.
You're sick.
You're tired.
You just need rest.
That's all.
That's all.
That's all.
Youโre resting in the other room. Youโll wake up soon and smile at him with those pretty eyes that made him feel like he was on cloud nine.
You would never leave him.
You said it yourself. You said you loved him. You said you liked his eyes. You said he was good. You love him. You said youโd stay. You promised. You said youโd stay forever. You saidโ you saidโ
Ah.
He burned the eggs again.
Shit.
Itโs fine. You can have pancakes today. You always liked them better. Extra syrup, just how you want it.
And apple juice. Cold. Fresh. Sweet.
He has to go get some right now.
Where are his keys? Whereโs his keys? Whereโs his keys? Whereโs his fuckingโ
โY/n? Have you seen my keys, baby? I need to get your apple juice.โ
No answer.
Hmm?
โBaby?โ
โฆwhy won't you answer?
โY/n?โ
Nothing.
A chill crawls down his back, slow and wet like melting ice. His pulse hammers in his ears.
Dex immediately runs to your room. Heart beating so fast it feels like it might burst through his chest.
What if you fell? What if you hurt yourself? What if youโre deaโ
Shut the fuck up. Shut up shut up shut up.
Then he opens the door andโ
Oh.
Ohhh.
Haha.
So youโre still sleeping. Alright.
Ok ok ok, everything's fine.
Look at you.
So lovely. So perfect. So peaceful.
You look so cute like that, donโt you?
Cute?
Yeah. So cute.
Whatโs so cute about a rotting corpse, Dex?
โฆwhat?
He stands there smiling, head tilted, fingers twitching at his sides. The delusion cracks for half a second, then seals itself again like a fresh wound.
Youโre just sleep. Youโll wake up. You have to. Because if you donโtโฆ if you really left himโฆ
No. No no no.
Heโll make breakfast anyway. Heโll set the table. Heโll sit across from your cold body and talk to you about his day, stroking your stiffening hand while the smell gets worse and the flies start to gather at the corners of your eyes.
Then he crawls onto the bed beside you, careful not to disturb the way your stiff limbs have settled.
He brushes a strand of hair from your foreheadโskin cold, slightly slick nowโand presses a kiss to your dry lips.
โItโs okay. Youโre just tired. Iโll take care of everything. I never leave you.โ
He curls around your decaying body, nose buried in your neck where the rot is sweetest, breathing you in like his life is depends on it.
His hand strokes down your side, over the bloating beginning in your belly, fingers tracing the places he used to mark with his teeth when you were warm and moaning.
Youโre not leaving. You canโt. You promised.
And in the quiet of the apartment, with the flies humming their little hymn above you both, Dex smiles against your cold skin and whispers the same things he told you every night when you were alive.
โI love you. I love you. I love you.โ
Heโll stay right here until you wake up.
Even if it takes weeks.
Even if the smell gets worse.
Even if pieces of you start to slip off when he holds you too tight.
Youโll wake up.
You have to.
Because you promised.
Right?
If you want to be in my daredevil taglist let me know :)
ยฉ yunyuu 2026 : do not plagiarize, repost, or translate works without the knowledge or consent of the creator in other platforms or websites.
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
โ Live Streamingโ Interactive Chatโ Private Showsโ HD Quality
Anya is LIVE right now
FREE
Free to watch โข No registration required โข HD streaming
