Dick Grayson Imagines

More Than Just a Playboy to Me

A new day has dawned in Gotham Academy and as much as you absolutely dreaded going to school, it didn't help knowing that the adopted son of billionaire Bruce Wayne, Dick Grayson, has recently been enrolled in the academy and will most likely be attending a fair number of your classes.

Your best friends couldn't resist drooling over the charming playboy as he graced the school hallways with his prescence, always seeming to draw in a crowd everywhere he went.

Wow, what a guy. You thought sarcastically. He's only been here for one day and he parades around like he owns the place. What an ego-maniac. I guess on the bright side, this has been the first day in years that our attendance has been so full.

Just as you predicted, Dick ended up being in your homeroom class, as well as some other courses that you couldn't really care less about. The most pathetic thing you've seen so far today wasn't about how every female and male student bent over for the new student's respect, but even the teachers lightened their loads and prioritized Dick's education above everyone else.

At first glance, anyone would just assume that you were simply jealous of your new celebrity classmate, but you were just irritated by the fact that his popularity grants him special perks, even if his intent was to live a 'normal life'.

"Miss (L/N)," You hear the sound of a middle-aged caucasian man call you the moment you set foot into the classroom. Late. "Care to explain why you've come to join us at such a late time?"

"Just get over it and send me to the Headmaster's office, man." You retaliated carelessly. "You've been doing nothing but attacking me for the past week, let alone kissing up to the new kid."

You shoot a dirty look at Dick, glaring daggers straight into his sky-blue eyes. It was evident that he took some offense to your statement, but it didn't make it any less true.

The teacher on the other hand, could not be any more annoyed. "Why, Miss (L/N), I-"

"If I may, sir," Dick cut in, standing up from his desk. "I asked the custodian if there was anything he could do to get the squeak out of my locker door. He surprised me when I came to see that he expanded my locker size four times bigger. I didn't know that one of the lockers that were used to expand mine belonged to (Y/N), so the janitor forced her to move her belongings to the boiler room as her new locker. If anyone should be punished, it should be me."

You were quite stunned at Dick's confession. It was nothing short of the truth, and deep down, it might have developed some form of respect for your new classmate.

"Mister Grayson, it's very sweet to take the fall for a friend from time to time, but I don't think it will be necessary here."

You have got to be kidding me.

Even after what Dick said, he still managed to get his teacher wrapped around his finger. You may not be a saint, but you still have the common sense to recognize fairness.

This just wasn't one of those times.

"(Y/N), wait!"

As you were about to reach for the doorknob, Dick was able to grab ahold of your free wrist. You turned away from the door to face him, giving him your full attention.

"Allow me to come with you. I can explain to the principal that it wasn't your fault." He pleaded with sincerity in his eyes. You had a faint moment of weakness, but you're not falling for it a second time.

"No thanks, Grayson." You replied dryly. "You may have swept everyone off their feet, but you're not getting me. I see through your charismatic little games."

After viewing Dick's facial reaction, you turned away to open the door and walk out of that classroom. There was no way you were going to explain to your guardian that you were called down to the principal's office.

The both of you couldn't care less of what any authorative figure wanted, anyways.

"Kitten, you're home early."

You immediately hear your caretaker's voice as soon as you closed the front door of your cheap condo. Your home wasn't really a pigsty, nor was it cleaned to perfection. It was comfortable, but the atmosphere always felt stuffy.

"Stupid Grayson and his stupid reputation!" You whined, ignoring your guardian's greeting. "I swear, if his ego got any bigger, his head just might explode! Self-conceited jerk!"

You groaned as you walked into your bedroom. You slammed the door behind you carelessly, slugged your bag off your body and leaving it on the floor. Proceeding to groan much louder, you plopped face-down onto your aged mattress atop your worn-out bedframe.

"(Y/N)? Kitten?"

The bedroom door slowly creaked open as your caretaker entered your room. She had light fair skin, raven-colored hair styled into a pixie cut, and seducing lime green eyes.

She was none other than the secret alias of the famous Gotham-based burgular Catwoman: Selina Kyle.

"Don't you have better stuff to do, Selina? Let me wallow in my own pity." You spoke in muffles, your head sunk into your pillow.

"Now darling, what kind of mother would I be if I can't solve your boy troubles?" Selina joked, sitting on the edge of your bed.

After a brief moment of consideration, you sat up on your bed, inching closer to the curious woman.

"Fine." You said. "It's just this new kid in school, Dick Grayson. He's the adopted son of billionaire Bruce Wayne. Even though neither of them are blood related, it seems that Grayson has inherited Bruce's playboy antics."

"It sounds like someone's getting pretty jealous."

"Can you blame me?!" You snapped back. "Grayson may be a goody-two-shoes but it shouldn't mean he's entitled to special treatment. He can lie to the press all he wants, the guy will never want to live a normal life."

"Kitten," Selina spoke softly, caressing your (H/C) hair. "You might want to sympathize with this boy a little. Like you said, he's a good guy, he's trying his best to fit in without upsetting anyone. Perhaps he really does want to be treated like a normal kid."

You huffed stubbornly, crossing your arms and turning away from the villainess to stare out from your bedroom window.

"Alright." You said reluctantly. "I'll cut him some slack. For now."