Young Justice x Reader

Damian Wayne

Y/N: your name
A/S : amount of sugar
T/N: teacher's name

[you're both 15 in this]

Warnings: none

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Bonds

You sat in your desk, bored out of your mind. You were currently drawing some mixture of an eye and a black blob of graphite.

You glance up at the board, just to feign the innocence that you were paying attention - which you weren't....clearly.

"Y/N!"

You jump, not expecting your name to be yelled out of the blue, then look up at your teacher. The class had their eyes on you and your teacher had his/her arms crossed and a pissed off look evident on his/her face.

"Would you like to come up to the board and balance this equation?"

Your face begins to redden and you nod as you slowly rise from your seat.

Slowly, you make your way up to the front and grab the marker your teacher had extended out to you.

"Uh-" your voice cracks a bit, so you clear it, "So what you have to do is put a 12 in front of the Carbon to make it go into a 24, then you have to put a 7 in front of the Nitrogen..." You continue until the equation is balanced, and you awkwardly hand the marker back to your teacher and head back to your desk, avoiding all eye contact with your classmates.

Your teacher, not to your knowledge, stares at you with his/her eyes narrowed in suspicion, then he/she clears his/her throat and continues with the lesson.

You continue drawing your blob until you feel as if you're being watched. A girl, of who you have no clue as to what her name is, was staring at you. Judging by how many times you looked right back at her, it was shameless. You choose to ignore her, and continue what you were previously doing.

You look up at the board and the clock every now and again, wishing the time could go a jillion times faster— which it did. Fifteen minutes later, you're stuffing your binder into your backpack, ready to leave this god forsaken class.

"Y/N?" You hear your name being called, and you look up, meeting the gaze of your teacher.

"Could you speak with me for a moment?" Your eyes quickly shift to the door, then back at your teacher. You nod, and make your way to his/her desk.

"Although you were-" he/she pauses, "correct in the lesson today, your grades are still plummeting in my class," he/she says, giving you a disappointed look.

"You will have to tutor."
At that sentence, your eyes widen and just about every bad thought crosses your mind.

"Why? I can handle myself, all I need to do is study!" You desperately try to change his/her decision, but he/she shakes his head.

"I'm afraid not," he/she pauses.
"Your tutor's name is Damian Wayne. He excels in all of his classes, and he's just what you need. You will meet up with him wherever and...whenever he chooses. This is mandatory, you cannot decide whether or not to go. If you don't, you will be written up."