dps one shots

help!

she/her pronouns used

you were tracing your fingers along the tan walls while heading down to dinner. you had faced your first day at welton. it was terrifying, to say the least. the work load was extensive and most of the other students kept to themselves. apart of you figured the boys may had been scared to speak to you since you were one of the first girls at welton. it was apart of a new program, but seemed to be falling somewhat miserably.

you started humming along as the long halls seemed to get even longer. navigating the school was impossible. you turned right when you should've turned left, and just seemed to be going in circles. you eventually turned down to face another long hall, but it seemed far more depressing than the ones you explored prior. despite this confusion, you continued tracing your fingers along the wall humming a simple song.

"psst." it started off as a small whisper. you believed it to be nothing.

"hello." the whisper slowly got louder. you paused just behind a large, slightly open wooden door.

"HEY!" what a loud turn of events.

you stuck your head in to see a brown haired boy slouching in an old desk. the room was empty which made you confused by all the whispering. his face changed from urgency to smugness quickly.

"can i help you?" you blurted out as you moved into the room.

"more then you know." he gave you a smirk and held up a pencil.

"mr. korlo is sleeping in that room," he pointed to a wide open door, "i need to write a 4 page essay on why im a fuck-up."

"and this involves me how?" you inquired.

"i don't want to do it, and you look smart. if you write it for me maybe i can help you out."

you scoffed at the idea. this brown-haired boy who you just met was asking you to write an essay. four pages to be exact. you were impressed by his courage, but annoyed by the question.

"you wish." you rolled your eyes.

"yeah," he made an annoyed face, "i do."

your curiosity easily got the best of you. you walked into the small room. it was dingy, and clearly neglected. you had heard of mr. korlo's lack of care due to his insanely old age. you heard snores coming from the back office but it was soon covered by the familiar voice.

"so, what will this get me?" you took a seat in the desk next to him. he turned towards you with a smirk.

"well what do you want?"

you took a beat, "first i'd like to know your name."

"charlie dalton at your service," he smiled, "technically you're at mine."

he was undeniably charming. he had deep brown eyes, with unkept hair. he didn't seem dirty though, just carefree which you could appreciate. he was cute. you could admit that, but never to someone as full of themselves as him.

"honestly," you began, "i could use a bike."

he immediately let out an obnoxious laugh.

"so you'd be willing to write a four page essay for some measly bike?"

"measly? it seems like you've got money if you're at welton. i'd expect only the best." you put on a fake british accent just to annoy him a bit more.

he mulled it over for a second. you could tell he was faking by the overdramatized stares into nothing. he held a hand up to his chin to exaggerate even further.

"well, whatever your name is, you've got a deal!" he held out his hand.

"it's y/n, at your service." you reached out a hand and gave him a firm handshake.