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Summary
“Talk all you want,” Jason snarls, holding so tight to Dick’s collar that his bruised knuckles begin to tremble. “When we’re done with you, we’re coming after your daddy. And trust me. You better hope you’re dead by then.”
Dick doesn’t beg. Or whimper. He remains limp as a ragdoll, wearing a lopsided expression that almost looks like a smile. “You know, you’re pretty hot for a psycho,” he says.
Series
- Part 8 of Jaydick Week Fics