Who suspected that Dick Grayson was a sucker if you told him that not once had a man made you squirt? Nobody, that’s what, and it’s exactly how you ended up in this situation, where your best friend and roommate was sitting beside you with puppy eyes begging to get his fingers and mouth between your legs. It was all he could think about since you told him, and he knew he’d be able to do it for you. Make you feel that good.

It helped that he was the most attractive man to walk this earth and was, by default, a man who reeked of sex appeal. Dick had immense pride in being a lady pleaser, so who better to please than his best friend, huh? Especially when no man had ever treated your gorgeous body well enough to even be called a man— he believed in mind blowing sex.

Imagine it. Him working you. Making you feel so good. All that thought of it sent a shiver down his back and yours between your legs. And shit, was the offer tempting. You knew Dick’s everlasting reputation with pleasing women, so it’d work out.

And fuck, if the thought of him working you out wasn’t hot.

"I’ll make it so good f’ you." He practically pleaded, looking so damn whipped already— why the fuck wouldn’t he be? It’s his best friend, and you hadn’t squirted before. Come on, he needs to be a gentleman, and overload that pretty head just right.

His teeth teased his bottom lip, awaiting your response. Of course, if you said no, he’d not force you to do anything — he wasn’t that kind of guy, no — he was a gentleman. And all he could comprehend was the prize beneath your sleep shorts. "Please." He was so whipped.