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allmyocsarebritish · 3 months

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Outreach day

Pairing: Xavier X Reader

Warnings: SUPER LONG (sorry), British references (specifically England), Tyler Galpin hate projection

A/N: this took over a month omd, also I don't like Tyler can you tell??

Outreach day. Two simple words which struck fear into the hearts of all the townspeople in Jericho. Every outcast knew this much, the whole day was a pointless publicity stunt, detested by all involved. But as long as it meant the town was considered 'welcoming and inclusive' to fellow normies, and the students of the school were supposed seen as 'friendly and well-rounded', the ridiculous mandatory 'volunteer' work continued.

Not a single Nevermore pupil enjoyed the day - spending hours being singled out and targeted, gossiped about and facing constant glares from the oh-so-accepting normies was in no way a cheerful experience. Your feet were lead as you collected the dreaded envelope; the contents of which dictated the placement you were forced into for the morning. Whilst a very small handful of your classmates appeared pleasantly surprised by their assignments, disgust was etched onto the faces of most of those around you.

Despite your entirely uninterested outward appearance, a spark of curiosity began to form. You carefully peeled open the chiffon coloured envelope, revealing a slip of card.

Written in bold, deep black lettering:

Y/N L/N

Uriah's Heap

Ultimately, that wasn't the worst option available. You would be essentially isolated, substantially less exposed to pure, unfiltered hatred from the entire population of Jericho. Relief washed over you, freed from the anxieties of potential work at pilgrim world. However, the consolation was short lived.

"Hey, Y/N!" Came the voice of Ajax from behind you.

"Hi, Ajax. What did you get?" You greeted the gorgon. The two of you were reasonably close friends, sharing several lessons and frequently meeting outside of school.

"Erm, Y/N? Would you maybe be willing to trade with me?" He queried, sidestepping your question. "I saw you got Uriah's Heap. And, well Enid's working there today so I thought-"

"You haven't got pilgrim world, have you?" You groaned, already preparing yourself to decline your friends offer.

"No! No I don't." He answered you, far too quickly. "I got the Weathervane." The last three syllables were barely audible.

"The Weathervane? Really? I don't even like coffee. Do you think I'm dense, Jax? I am not spending the day with the Sheriff's son." You scoffed, scrunching your nose in distaste and already briskly walking towards the shuttle set to take all Nevermore students into Jericho.

"No, Y/N wait! Please I will do anything!" You were quick, but so was Ajax. Before you knew it, he was sat on the seat beside you, whining incessantly in your ear.

"Fine!" You grumbled, barely a minute into the journey, already bored to death of being nagged.

"Because I would- wait really?!"

"Yes, whatever. Just shut up, would you?" You playfully elbowed him in the ribs.

If Ajax thought that you hadn't noticed the thumbs up he flashed to someone behind you, he was entirely wrong. He was not subtle, at all. You shook your head, a small smile taking place on your lips. But before you had a chance to wonder what that was about, the shuttle began to speed up, reaching the road leading in to town. The rest of the trip consisted of bantering with your friend, and soon enough you had reached your dreaded destination.

Your smile completely vanished when you remembered what you had gotten yourself into. Predictably, Ajax was nowhere to be seen the minute you exited the shuttle. You rolled your eyes, silently cursing both yourself and the gorgon. If only you had more patience.

You shamelessly stretched out the walk to your unfortunate placement as much as possible, taking the longest route you could. Yet despite your best attempts, you still managed to get to your destination on time. Early, even.

Being the sensible person you were, you promptly spun around and began walking in the opposite direction, delaying your inevitable fate further. Of course, you would have to make your way into the Weathervane eventually; a Nevermore uniform stuck out like a sore thumb against the sea of normies. Constantly checking over your shoulder for any sign of Weems (or any other teacher ready to pounce on an out-of-line student), you turned a corner. This allowed you to make your way down the empty back street, void of any staring eyes. But the solitude was short lived.

Not too far into the distance stood a brick wall, sloppily coated in patchy white paint. However, your attention was immediately drawn to the extremely tall figure wearing the tell-tale blue and black stripes of Nevermore. You faintly recognised him as Xavier Thorpe, the school's resident 'tortured artist'. A pang of sympathy struck you as you recalled the reason behind the solemn way he stared at the whitewashed bricks.

"I'm sorry about your painting." Xavier immediately whipped around to face you at the faint sound of your hushed voice. He blinked at you, as you began to silently curse yourself for the second time that day. The destroyed mural was bound to be a touchy subject.

"It's fine - there's nothing I can do about it now." He responded after a prolonged moment.

The silence was drawn out and awkward, yet something about Xavier seemed strangely familiar and comfortable, despite you barely knowing him. "You're a really good artist, are they going to let you do another one?"

The look on his face was enough to immediately realise you said the wrong thing. "I'm sorry-" you began, however he cut you off.

"You don't need to apologise. They don't care remotely enough for that, and I wouldn't want to anyway."

"You'd be wasted on this shitty town." This response drew a quiet snicker from him, making you smile in turn.

"Thanks." He smiled back before quickly breaking eye contact and looking down, the corners of his mouth still lifted in a pretty smirk. The sight of which was enough to direct your own gaze to the floor.

..What?

The pretentious sound of heels clacking against concrete infiltrated your momentary confusion. You and Xavier both turned around, movements synchronized. At that moment, you were greeted with a sarcastic smirk from Weems as she stared down (more so at you), hands on her hips. Offering Xavier a mischievous grin, you braced yourself for the scolding that would surely follow.

"I believe the two of you are supposed to be at your assignments right now." She spoke rather elegantly, her posture suggested a source of authority, despite the fact she clearly lacked it, with two students set to arrive late to their placement. "I'm willing to turn a blind eye to this exchange, given the circumstance," A pointed look was directed at the mess of Xavier's mural, "but you are aware that one of the conditions of outreach day is to not make any waves. At all. Now, make your way to your placements, as my kindness will only extend so far." Her tone was clear, and out of respect you decided to surrender; she was a decent headteacher, all things considered.

Quickly glancing to your left, it was clear that Xavier was substantially less willing. You gave him a small nudge with your elbow as Weems turned and began briskly walking ahead - presumably to the Weathervane to make sure you arrived. He glanced at you, before once again looking away, an obvious scowl present on his face, not attempting to mask it in the slightest. A frown pushed its way onto your brow, concern beginning to grow.

"Wouldn't you have thought she would offer us an escort?" You joked dryly, to which he responded with a small huff and a nod. "Are you okay?" The worry festering within you began to grow at his dismissive response.

"Uh, yeah. I'm fine."

Biting back the urge to respond with a snarky comment about him not looking fine, you continued walking, realising you had no idea where Xavier's assignment was located.

Or more importantly, when he would leave.

You felt a dinky yet significant attachment towards the artist, despite never really speaking with him before now. Of course you knew of him, though you didn't really know him personally. And for some reason, you decided that should change; you wanted to spend time together, begin a friendship, maybe even more-

"I just realised." You spoke very slightly too loudly, surprising yourself, but dispersing your rampaging thoughts. Most likely at the unexpected twinge of high volume, Xavier tilted his head toward you, finally making eye contact. His chartreuse irises were flecked with hazel around the pupils, an overwhelming sea of glorious gemstone green you could certainly drown in. Barely noticeably, you shook your head to once again clear the miniscule details that sprung into much more, your mind swarming with thoughts like a hive of restless bees.

"You never told me where you're outreaching." You continued, as though you hadn't just been lost in Xavier's eyes barely a second ago.

He scoffed in response, rolling his eyes. "I got the Weathervane. So now I get to watch that normie idiot ride his own dick all day acting all innocent."

You shouldn't have been happy. You really shouldn't have. And you weren't. No, you weren't happy - instead you were ecstatic, thrilled, overjoyed, delighted. Your joy was kept in check, however, when remembering that this was probably the worst assignment Xavier could have gotten. Truthfully, you had no idea the extent of which Tyler's ambush had reached last year, but you were well aware of the state of Xavier when he returned that day. Bruised, battered and bloodied, and the thought of his suffering made your heart break.

"Do you want to know something?" Your voice wavered, and you hoped the remaining excitement did not translate. Xavier gave a little nod, prompting you to continue.

"I've got the Weathervane too."

The ghost of a smile graces his lips, and you responded with your own grin.

A comfortable silence extended as you continued walking together. The sense of sheer dread in approaching the cafè was no longer so extreme, rather being overpowered by something else; electrifying thrill about spending the day with the boy you only really just met. A twinge of disappointment remained, of all places of course it had to be the Weathervane. But, nevertheless, you were still insanely grateful to Ajax for allowing you this opportunity.

Unbeknownst to you, Xavier was also feeling substantially perkier about the assignment. Ajax had managed to convince you, and his day would in fact be tolerable. Who knows, maybe it could even be fun - after all, a full morning with the girl he liked would undoubtedly be at least marginally enjoyable.

The two of you had subconsciously drifted closer as you walked, until eventually your hands ended up softly brushing together. A surge of electricity flowed through your body, skin burning in the place you had made contact. You almost felt as though your fingers were flaming, hand nothing but raging fire. A small glance out of the corner if your eye had you even more flushed, and a smile tugged at your lips.

What? No-one else had this kind of effect on you.

You wouldn't deny that you kind of liked it.

Regardless of your detour, and in spite of you and Xavier dragging out the walk as long as physically possible, eventually the two of you managed to reach the Weathervane. You shared a brief glance and a deep breath, before simultaneously pushing open the door.

"Nice of you to finally show up." Tyler's attempt at a joke did not translate. You both looked at him blankly, already sick of his shit, yet playing nice.

For now.

"Well, uh, I'll get you each a shirt and apron." Tyler awkwardly smiled. It was quickly dropped, however, when he was greeted with two intense glares. The both of you were entirely unimpressed, and evidently the innocent façade was never going to get you swooning for the normie.

He sighed lightly, wandering into the backroom behind the counter. You turned to Xavier, rolling your eyes and shaking your head softly, to which he responded with a smirk.

Soon enough, Tyler returned, holding two Weathervane uniforms. Enhanced by what you knew of his reputation, you really didn't like Galpin. He was incredibly tense and awkward, but in a really off-putting way that made it seem as though he had something to hide. His unsettling nature made for a largely uncomfortable, disconcerting atmosphere in the small café. The silence was prolonged in a way that starkly contrasted the relaxed ambience when meeting Xavier by the ruined mural. There may have been the odd awkward moment, yet it never felt like this.

On the topic of Xavier's mural, the memory of the sheer hurt on the already tortured artist's face was enough to make you cross your arms, resuming your disapproving glare towards the barista.

Your thoughts were disturbed by a disgusting vision that made your blood run cold.

Two normies held him down, forcing him to watch as dull, eggshell white paint was splashed over hours of work, like tippex covering a mistake. Mocking laughter rang through his ears as sharp pains radiated from each landed punch. Tears welled in his eyes as Galpins fist came pummeling onto his nose, causing excruciating agony.

Returning to your current reality, you discovered you had missed Tyler advising the two of you on where to change. A gentle hand resting on your right shoulder caused a surge of electricity to shock you out of your tempestuous mind, clearing any remaining flecks of the vision from your current consciousness.

"Sorry." Xavier smiled slightly, and your heart shattered like glass at how he was treated. "You seemed a little zoned out."

"Yeah, thanks." Was all you managed in response. Frowning, you trailed behind Tyler as he showed you the staff room at the back of the shop. When you returned, now kitted out in your very own apron and polo shirt, Xavier was already waiting for you. His tawny hair cascaded freely, very slightly covering the sides of his face. The crimson apron was tied behind his back, enhancing his slender figure. It was incredibly flattering, despite being the enemy uniform. Your cheeks flushed when you realised you had been staring. It may have been your imagination, but you could have sworn a pink tinge appeared on Xavier's face to match your own. The two of you maintained eye contact for a bit too long, before breaking it and quickly dropping your gazes to the floor.

As always, the moment was interrupted by fucking Tyler. So what if you were a little bit grateful this time? It was still Tyler.

"Have either of you ever used an espresso machine?" He asked, radiating an air of superiority that made turned your veins molten.

"You just press buttons. Probably." You answered snarkily, avoiding the question of whether you had actually used one and uttering the last word beneath your breath.

"Uh, I think there's a bit more to it than that." Tyler half-smiled.

You rolled your eyes again, and Xavier had to suppress a laugh at your extreme irritance caused by the barista. He just had that effect on you. The way he strode in on his high horse just because he happened to be the normie son of the sheriff made you sick, enhanced by his targeting of outcasts (mainly Xavier). The final straw was the innocent façade he upheld. So, no. You didn't like Galpin.

The sound of someone clearing their throat once again brought you to reality. Were you even trying to listen to Tyler teaching you to work the machine? No, that's why there were two of you. Besides, surely it wouldn't be that hard to wing for a few hours.

Your first task of the day was taking orders. It was simple, really. Head to the table, ask the customer for their order, then report back to Tyler. An easy task to ease you into the art of the establishment. Collecting a small notepad and pen, you and Xavier wandered to the only occupied table.in the whole café. A glimmer of mischief flickered in your eye as you looked up at Xavier, something that made his heart beat a little quicker and his hands tremble ever so slightly.

Back to the task at hand, you approached the booth, smiling sweetly.

"Hello, and welcome to the Weathervane!" You clasped your hands together. "Could I take your order?"

"Oh, just a latte."

Smiling once more, you scribbled onto the lined paper, offering a thank you to the man in the booth before wandering back to the counter, Xavier following close behind. Hoisting yourself up onto the countertop, you tossed the pad to Tyler. If it hit his face that wasn't your problem. You were quick to revert to false innocence, staring up at him with huge, blameless doe eyes.

"He wants a black coffee."

"He asked for an espresso."

You both responded at the same time, dissolving into giggles. Tyler frowned at you both, patience already wearing thin. Sighing, he picked up the paper and began making what he hoped was in fact the actual order.

Xavier shook his head at you, a pretty smirk resting on his face. He leant back on the counter you were sat on, using his arms to prop himself up.

"You know, I bet I could get more tips tha you if I tried." He teased, licking his lips and surpressing yet another smile.

"No way." You narrowed your eyes playfully.

"We'll see." He shrugged, sending you a wink that made your knees weak. It was certainly a good job that you were already seated.

After your antics on the easiest task possible, you and Xavier were demoted to table-cleaning. The two of you took a rag each, wiping the wooden surface at a snails pace.

"I've never even drank coffee." You muttered. "Apparently at pilgrim world they get free fudge. Imagine that." Huffing, you continued wiping slowly.

"Yeah, I mean, its alright but not something I'd dedicate my life to." You snickered at Xavier's subtle dig at Tyler, bringing a smile to his face.

"So, I suppose you prefer tea, then?" He responded, forcing a posh accent and butchering it. You crinkled your nose in distaste.

"Was that supposed to be me? And no, I don't like tea either." You responded, holding back a laugh.

"What? What kind of British person are you?"

"I'm really sorry to tell you this, Xavier. I actually am, but honestly, no-one I know from England drinks tea." You responded, laughing at his reaction.

"So what do you like to drink?" He asked.

"I don't know, Coke? Dr Pepper?"

"Okay, okay. Pepsi or Coke?" He asked urgently, as though it were a matter of life and death.

"Uhh. Will my answer change the way you think of me?" You questioned, a slight frown accompanying your amused smile.

"Oh, absolutely." He joked back.

"Okay, don't kill me, but I honestly can't tell the difference."

His eyes widened in shock as his jaw dropped sarcastically.

The two of you laughed again, smiling at eachother when the giggles died down. The gaze you gave held so much emotion to be directed at someone you barely knew. But with Xavier it didn't feel sudden. He licked his lips, and you accidentally let your eyes trail down. Even though it only lasted a split-second, you felt your cheeks light up as his lips pulled into a smirk.

"Are you guys almost done over there?" GALPIN.

A string of profanities exited your lips as you placed dirtied mugs onto the tray that rested on the table whilst Xavier's heart began to flutter at the thought of you looking at him like that.

Not paying attention to Tyler's demonstration proved to actually be a huge blessing. He was entirely sick of you, meaning you were immediately loaded off onto Xavier. Little did Galpin know, he wasn't listening either.

"Google it!" He whispered to you, warm breath fanning against your ear. The proximity was flustering, and you hoped beyond hope that Xavier couldn't see your hands shaking as you typed into the search bar.

"Uh, Xav?" You turned back to him, stopping suddenly when remembering how close he was to you. "I can't be bothered to do all this." You huffed.

If you noticed his cheeks reddening at the use of the nickname, you didn't mention it.

"I mean, we could always just.. not."

"I mean yeah I guess you could, but why would you waste time like that?"

"Passive aggressive much?" Xavier whispered, making you snicker softly in response.

"I heard that." The barista hissed through gritted teeth. "Just go and clean more tables then." Tyler sighed, shaking his head. You made eye contact with Xavier, squealing internally before racing back to the table. The two of you resumed scrubbing, both lost on thought.

The gentle knocking of his hand against yours dragged you from your thoughts, dispersing them as you flinched instinctively.

"Sorry." Xavier mumbled, though he did not make an effort to move his hand.

"No, it's fine." You responded quickly, refraining from retracting your own.

The tension was electrifying, and chills crawled over your skin when you finally made eye contact with the blonde artist. Wordlessly, the two of you seemed to inch closer, subconsciously drifting further into eachother's presence. Rags discarded on the equally abandoned table, Xavier leaned his head down slightly, licking his lips subtly.

"I guess you can go now, your shift is over" Tyler declared, rolling his eyes at the outcasts before him.

"Yeah, yeah. Fuck you too" Xavier flipped him off, already on his way to return to the comforting sapphire and raven stripes of Nevermore. You smiled sweetly, tossing up your own first and middle finger. (A backwards peace sign is like a British middle finger)

The return to the shuttle was solemn- the two of you had barely spoken prior to this, and you were unsure if you ever would again. But, you weren't going to take that chance.

"Hey, Xav?" You boldly decided it was absolutely now or never. Heart pounding as he hummed in response, you cleared your throat.

"I'm sorry if this is a bit too forward, but, do you think I could take your number? You're really cool and I don't want this to be the last time we ever speak."

With an adorable lopsided grin, he offered his hand, to which you gave your phone, already open to the contacts page.

Reaching the shuttle all too soon, you waved goodbye to Xavier sweetly, bouncing back to your seat next to Ajax. He let you take your window seat, because, after all, you had suffered through a day of Tyler Galpin.

"So, how did it go?" He asked, and you summoned all of your will strength as to not combust on the spot.

Let's just say Ajax's phone barely survived the night of pounding messages from both you and your tortured artist.

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