Futile Devices — Chapter 2
A Javier Peña/Call Me By Your Name AU
gif by @pedropcl
Javier Peña x Reader
Summary: Your crush on your father’s house guest, Javier, comes quick and confusing.
Warnings: Age gap (reader is of age), language, drinking, some angst
Javier sits with your father in the back gardens every morning over breakfast. They meet to discuss their writing goals for the day and go over their notes from the day before for you have found most of their writing has been done separately.
Vita, hungover from the night before, crosses her arms over her big t-shirt and you can tell she’s squinting even behind her sunglasses. “Why don’t you guys ever eat inside?”
“Morning, girls.” Your father says, looking up from the papers in his hand, as Javier sits across from him, cigarette in his mouth, tapping away at the typewriter.
“Hi, dad.” You yawn as Vita slumps down into a chair with a grunt and you pour her a cup of coffee from the pot in the middle of the table.
“Thank you.” She grumbles and Javier grins around his cigarette.
You take your own cup and sit opposite Vita at the other end of the table, next to your house guest and Javier puts out his cigarette when you do.
“Claude, I need you to run into town today.” Your father sighs, stacking his papers up. “I need you to have Paolo fax these chapters to the publisher.”
“Sure.” You nod, a task you have been doing your whole life.
“I’ll come too.” Javier says and both yours and Vita’s attention turns to him. “I’m running low.”
He shakes his empty Marlboro package and Vita pulls her glasses down to raise her eyebrows at you.
Futile Devices — Chapter 1
A Javier Peña/Call Me By Your Name AU
gif by @underbetelgeuse
Javier Peña x Reader
Summary: After completing your first year at The Juilliard School, you expect to spend the summer how you have your whole life - at your parent’s sprawling estate in Northern Italy. Raised by married and acclaimed novelists Christian & Daisy Slattery, this year Christian has invited his old college friend and fellow writer Javier Peña to stay with his family and collaborate on a new novel. Indifferent at first, you quickly find yourself embarking on a long, hot summer with Javier.
Series Warnings: angst, smut, age gap (reader is of age), language
Somewhere in Northern Italy…
Clair de Lune drips from your fingertips as they glide across the keys and in this moment you wish you were anywhere else but here. A moment that usually leaves you feeling so alive, feels only like a knife to the stomach and someone keeps twisting it. He keeps twisting it.
Javier doesn’t look up as you play for your guests — he just stares down into his champagne until his glasses fall down his nose and his only movement is pushing them back up. Would he dare look you in the eye? Eyes that have now gone blurry with tears as your fingers scurry across the piano, and you hope he drowns in the melancholy tune. But he won’t. And now you wonder if he even feels anything at all and you just can’t look away.
It’s not until you hear clapping in your ear that you realize you are sobbing into the ivory. Chest heaving, voice breaking sobbing and your mother is trying to divert everyone’s attention.
“The true talent of the family.” She beams in shaky voice as she helps you off of the stool and out of the living room as you hear your father give a single loud clap and ask “Who wants another drink?”
“I told you I didn’t want to fucking play.” You cry in ragged breath in the dimly lit corridor that separates the grand living room and library from the kitchen.
Your mother reaches to cup your face, but you swat her hands away and she looks so completely defeated.
“What happened?” Daisy pleads, trying to meet your eye line. “Where did my baby go?”
“I’m not a fucking child, mom.” You sniff, and you realize how ironic that sounds in your state. Unable to even get through a performance for such a small crowd. “Jesus fucking Christ.”
Your mother throws her hands up, “I don’t even know who you are anymore.”
“Not a fucking child.” You spit, before you sob again. “Please just leave me alone.”
Your mother shakes her head with a scoff. “Fine.”
You want to scream at your mother for making you this way, for making you so easy to break, so easy to forget but this may have been completely your doing. You just want something else to blame, to believe that all of these decisions were beyond you as to make it all easier to swallow, that maybe you won’t be messed up for the rest of your life.
Vita slips passed your mother as she returns to the party and you groan, “Vita, look. I can’t do this right now—”
“Please. What is going on?” She sounds softer now, not as demanding as she was before. Not as angry, and she stands close to you. Her eyes well at what you can imagine is a most upsetting sight, because underneath it all, you are still friends and it makes you shiver in regret for how you have kept her in the dark.
“My heart is breaking.” You gasp and she squints, she doesn’t know what you’re talking about. How could she? “I’m sorry, I haven’t told you. I—”
You’re stopped in your tracks as you see Javier come up behind and around Vita. He still doesn’t look up, but he puts his hand up for your shoulder, “Can we have a minute?”
You flinch at his touch and your lip quivers violently as you try to not let your movements seem so dramatic, but his fingertips that molded you, now make you want to be sick. “Don’t fucking touch me, Javi.”
Javier pulls his hand back in a fist, and he bites his lip, as you cross your arms to hide yourself from him. Turning inward so he cannot even see you, for he will never get to touch you again. He doesn’t want to say anything in front of Vita, and you can feel it, but so can she. You both speak the hushed language of female friendship, the touches that burn, and advances unwanted. Crying in bathtubs and screaming into the rain because you just wanted to feel alive — but not like this.
“What did you do?” Vita blinks up at Javier.
Javier scoffs, shaking his head and it makes you want to run away, but you can’t make your feet move.
“What the fuck did you do?” Your friend asks once more, trying to create a barrier with her body between you and him.
“Oh, fuck this.” Javier sighs, putting up his hands as he turns to walk away.
“No, what the fuck did you do, Javier?!” She screams. “What did you fucking do?!”
Vita steps forward to call after him but you grab her arm and with a jerk, keep her still.
“I knew it.” She cries, turning back to you. “It’s been him, hasn’t it?”
“Can we please go.”
“I’m sorry I wasn’t there, I’m sorry I got so mad.” Vita’s words pierce your skin for she needs to offer no apology at all. You are the reason the friendship turned to ruin. “What did he do?”
Your hands shake as you grab hers, “I’ll tell you everything, just please get me out of here, I’m begging you.”
3 Months Earlier
“Okay, so what is this?” Vita asks, sitting upright in your bed, and crossing her legs. She wears only a bright yellow bikini top and cut off denim shorts, and she is the most beautiful girl anyone has ever seen. With her dark hair and big brown eyes, her laugh like a song and her wit unmatched by anyone you have ever met. She has that way of making anywhere feel like home, that she woud do anything for you. Your best friend.
“This is Furious by Javier Peña.” You say, raising an eyebrow, holding up a thick black book, the title in bold red type across.
“This is the guy who’s staying with you?”
“In the room next to mine, yes.”
“Alright.” She sounds unamused.
“Wait.” You put up a finger, before flipping through the pages for the passages you highlighted the night before. “You have to hear this.”
Vita nods, resting her chin on her folded hands.
“Okay. I never knew a more exquisite death than that of when I was without her. To be without her, her skin that smelled like home, her laugh that sounded like god herself was to die one hundred times every day. But the longing? The aching for her touch, her mind, the way her body moved in the darkness was worth it. For the way I devoured her when we were finally reunited could be matched only by a hurricane.”
You look up up to find Vita with her jaw dropped. “Whoa.”
“Wait, there’s more.” You sayexcitedly, flipping again for the next passage. “To be inside her, her voice ringing in my ear, the extraordinary pain of her nails, like daggers, down my back, how itpossessed me. To bring her to sweet, thick, dripping ecstasy was what I lived for. The flush of her cheeks and that look in her eyes as she tips over the edge would make me kill for her — all she’d have to do was ask. To not touch her was to lose not only my mind, but my entire worth completely. She was the reason I breathed, ate, loved. The earth turned for her.”
You look up at Vita again and she’s clutching her chest theatrically. “My heart.”
“But then, I found this.” You laugh, flipping near the end of the book. “She was sweet as a peach and I didn’t know it, not until she began to rot away at the places I touched her. But we stuffed the decay full of diamonds because she had to be beautiful and I made her into—”
“No.” Vita cuts in, “Go back to the hot stuff.”
You laugh, tossing the book to your friend. “All they did was fight and fuck.”
“This book.” You say, tapping the cover in Vita’s hands. “Is about Javier’s own first marriage.”
“Oh my god.” She gasps. “I’m so turned on.”
You laugh as she flips quickly through the book and with a sigh, turn your attention through your french doors. Past the balcony and into the vast sprawling green hills, the lemon trees and overgrown gardens as your own longing pulls on your insides. “I just wish Luca—”
“Would devour you like a hurricane?” Vita grins, in reference to youroccasional summer lover.
“Yes!” You exclaim. “But it’s all forehead kisses and he thinks I love him because I let him finish on my face.”
“He thinks you love him, because you told him you love him.” She says.
“Yeah, when I was, like, 17. Because I thought I did! Then I got into Juilliard and moved to New York and there is just so much I want Vita. And Luca is just so—”
“Safe?” Your friend chimes in. “Boring? Like a boiled potato?”
“Like a boiled potato.” You sigh. “And I don’t have the heart to tell him I want something more.”
Vita closes the book, and puts her hand on your knee. “When’s the last time you saw him?”
“Tonight will be the first. I’ve been avoiding him since I got back.” You grimace. “It’s like we’re stuck in this bubble here, for three months nothing really touches us but the sun, it’s like none of it is actually real.”
“Javier!” You hear your father call from down stairs, and then the sound of a car door closing.
“We’ll come back to this.” Vita says,climbing out of your bed. “But I have to see what this guy looks like.”
You laugh as Vita leaps out of your room and you adjust yourown cut off denim shorts, and cropped white long sleeved shirt when you stand.
“Oh my god, he’s hot.” Vita hisses from across the hall.
And he is. You peer over your friend’s shoulder in the empty room across from yours, as she opens the wooden shutters a little more, just as Javier slaps your father on the back. His dark hair, black and shining in the sun, his shirt unbuttoned and displaying his chest slick with sweat from the heat, half tucked into dark jeans, and his prominent nosescrunched as he squints for his orange tinted aviators do nothing to combat the light.
“I want to give him things.” Vita sighs. “I want to suck on his fingers. I want him to make me suck on his fingers.”
“Stop it.” You hush, but you can’t help but grin because you feel the same. Even as you spy on him pulling his typewriter out of the backseat of the car from up above, your heart flutters. He’s intimidatingly handsome and surprisingly shy for someone who would have been friends with your father in college.
Your mother calls your name from the bottom of the stairs before you see her step out an welcome Javier in an embrace.
“I’m coming down with you.” Vita says instantly, turning to leave.
“No you’re not.” You cackle, pulling on her arm. “Go back to my room.”
“Fine.” She groans.
“And this is Y/N.” Daisy sings as you appear in thedoorway and she runs her fingers through the back of your hair when you step close enough.
“The prodigy.” Javier smiles.
“Just finished her first year at Juilliard.” Your father says, his head in the trunk of the car, pulling Javier’s bags out.
“But I’m no writer.” You shrug.
“Anyone can write.” Javier says, adjusting the typewriter in his arms. “Not everyone can play an instrument.”
His simple sentiment makes you blush and suddenly you find it difficult to look him in the eye, but he keeps staring.
“Claude, will you take these up to Javier’s room?” Your father asks, handing you a piece of luggage and a briefcase.
“Of course.” You smile, before looking back up to your guest.
“Claude?” Javier mouths.
“Debussy.” You roll your eyes. “Come on, I’ll show you your room.”
Daisy releases her tender grip on your waves as you turn back into the house and Javier follows you up the big wooden staircase.
“You must be exhausted.” You huff, his luggage becoming heavier with each step. “That journey is no joke.”
“Yeah, uh.” Javier’s voice trails off as you struggle with the bags. “Do you need some help?”
“Nah, you’ve got that typewriter.” You gasp.
“It’s really no problem.” You look back at him, his skin glowing in sweat and the afternoon light that pours in through the windows.
“Yeah?” You laugh.
“Yeah.” He laughs back, moving the typewriter carefully under his arm, and taking the luggage with his other hand.
He grunts at the weight, and you turn back quickly, holding the briefcase handle in both hands as the sound makes you blush once more.
“Our rooms are connected by the balcony.” You say suddenly. “So be careful.”
Javier is silent and you curse yourself for you don’t know what that was supposed to mean. At the top of the stairs, Javier begins to roll the suitcase behind him and you show him the bathroom, linen closets and laundry chute before carrying on down the hall.
“This is my room.” You sigh as you see Vita leaning up against the door frame with her arms crossed. “And this is Vita. My best friend.”
“It’s an absolute pleasure to meet you.” Vita says, and Javier raises his eyebrows with a smile.
“And this is your room.” You continue, stepping in front of her.
“Ugh, yes.” He groans, letting go of the suitcase, quickly putting the typewriter on the empty desk and falling face-first into the bed and you look back at Vita — who has poked her head completely into his room, not sure what to do.
“Sorry.” He says into the sheets, kicking off his shoes. “Just leave the suitcase there.”
“Okay.” You say quietly and Vita’s eyes widen as Javier starts to pull off his shirt. “Dinner is usually served around 7.”
“Thank you.” He yawns.
“Get the fuck out.” You whisper, pushing Vita back into your room, and you both giggle as you close the doorbehind you.
Javier doesn’t come to dinner, and no one seems to mind. Not Vita, who stayed at your mother’s request and sits between you and Daisy. Nibbling on fresh bread and olive oil, at the white iron table between the lemon trees. Not your mother,whose eyes reflect gold from the sinking sun as she laughs at Vita’s funny stories. Not your father who reads while he eats, a paperback in one hand, the other slowly bringing up forfulls of flaky fish, or a sip of his red wine. Stopping only to pass the book to your mother for her to readsomething that moved him.
But you mind. Especially as the empty seat isthe one across from you and you long to see what Javier would looking likein this light. Smiling under the mustache, and eating. Ripping pieces of bread and pouringglasses of wine. It seems so menial but you can’t stop thinking about it. What would he wear to dinner? Another shirt with hisbuttons undone, and his aviators on? So purposely care-free, but no one seems to notice. Does he savour flavours or does he eat only forsustenance? What kind of wine does he like? Does he drink at all? Is he the type, that despite hisbrooding, is a wonderful conversationalist and comes alive over food and drink? None of this really matters because what you really want is to just see him again, occupy the same space. Watch how his lips move when he speaks, how his big dark eyes react and how they squint when he smiles.
It’s so strange to think aboutsomeone you hardly know in such detail, even more so while you are both under the same roof, and quitefrankly, his age. But there’s something about him and you can’t help yourself. Not while you bring the dishes back into the house, not while you and Vita lay in the grass, looking up at thesky that has gone pink and beautiful purple. Stealing glances of the french doors that you know are his, hoping maybe he’d open them for air. Youcan’t help yourself even as the stars start to appear and Vita, with akiss to your cheek and a quick “Rock Luca’s world”, goes home. Not even as you pad quietly around your room, making your bed and slipping into sexier underwear, dropping the worn copy of Furious into your bedside table drawer with a sigh. Or even as you tiptoe down the staircase at a quarter past midnight to let Luca in.
Luca doesn’t leave until almost four in the morning.
“I’ve missed you.” He says lowly in front of the open front door. The cool air puckering your skin and rustling his curly blonde hair as he rubs your knuckles with his thumb.
“I’ve missed you, too.” You lie, desperately wanting him to leave so you can make a snack and go to sleep.
“When can I see you again?” He asks, and he sounds so boring, so safe.
“I’ll call you.” You smle, giving him a kiss, and he catches your lips once more when you try to pull away. Trying not to groan in frustration, you open your eyes to find his sweet face kissing you so adoringly and it makes you feel guilty.
You pull away again and whisper, “I need to get up soon.”
He smiles, giving you one more kiss to your forehead and it makes you want laugh. But you smile sweetly instead before closing the door behind him, leaning up against it when it’s shut.
“God.” You groan, rubbing your eyes before making your way around the staircase and through the corridor to the kitchen, stright for the refidgerator.
You squint at the harsh refrigerator light in the dark kitchen, trying to find somethng to make a sandwich, but it’s all gone.
“What the—” You sigh, turning around and you gasp loudly, walking back into the refridgerator.
“I’m sorry.” Javier says, eyes wide behing his thick-framed black glasses, his hnds up indefence, standing at the kitchen counter. “I thought you saw me.”
Your heart races as you close the door, “No. I’m not used to anyone being up with me.”
“I was hungry.” He says, turning back to the counter, and you see he has everything out to make a sandwich.
“Yeah, you missed dinner.” You say, cutting a piece of the homemade bread.
Javier hands you the butter knife and mumbles, “I didn’t lick it, or anything.”
His words make you smile, and you bite your cheek to contain it. Youstand next to each other in silence, making your snacks and you can’t help but notice he smells like fresh laundry, and it makes you dizzy as you look down at his dark grey pajama bottoms, and fitted black t-shirt. His hair is damp, he’s bathed – he’s bathed in the same shower you will come sunrise and your breath hitches. Javier doesn’t look up.
“How have you been liking New York?” He asks, dropping sliced cheese on the bread.
“I love it.” You sigh. “Everything about it.”
“Maybe I’ll run into you sometime.” He says, placing lettuce on top of the cheese.
“Yeah, maybe you will.” You say so purposely nonchalant.
“I can’t wait to hear you play.” He continues.
“Really?” You ask, looking up at him and it seems too eager so you look back down.
“I heard you are absolutely incredible.”
“Do you want to hear right now?”
Javier leans up against the piano in the living room as you quietly lift the cover. “Okay, this is Clair de Lune.”
“Oh.” He says, tapping the side of his head. “Claude.”
“Yes.” You grin and you begin. The notes drift through the soft milky morning air and Javier closes his eyes.
“Why did you choose something that sounds so sad?” He asks quietly.
“It’s my favourite.” You shrug and he smiles, the lines around his eyes appearing and it makes you smile back.
Javier leans forward, now watching your hands intently and it makes you self conscious but continue as the song becomes more rousing.
“It’s beautiful.” He mumbles and you stop.
“I don’t want to wake anyone.” You whisper.
“You can play me more in the daylight.” He whispers back and you close the cover.
“I should get some sleep.” You say, starting for the staircase.
“Yes?” You ask, looking back.
“Who was that?” Javier nods toward the door.
“Just a friend.” You shrug, and you can hear your heartbeat pounding in your ears.
“Just a friend?” He asks, eyebrows raising, “In the middle of the night?”
“Yes, Javier.” You smile sweetly, despite your shaky breath. “Just a friend.”
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a professor!Javier Peña x reader fic
baila conmigo part two of three; part one
- rating/warnings: nc-17/18+/smut: explicit language, sexual content (in public, oral - f receiving, fingering), praise kink, age gap (legal), alcohol, smoking, some angst, some fluff
- word count: 5.4k
- summary: office hours has a new meaning for javi and his TA
- a/n: whooooweeeee the response to the first part blew my mind! thank you all, you’ve been so very lovely! here’s part two and yes there will be a third part ‘cause i wanted to let their fun breathe a bit before i bring it to an end - so this part is less about plot. (also you can listen to softly by clairo if you wanna vibe with me)
The colors adorning the cover of the book you’re currently zoned out on swirl together as you allow your eyes to fall out of focus. You can recognize that there’s a voice speaking, still speaking on its tangent that started what must have been ages ago, but you don’t hear a single word. You curse at yourself for not going to sleep earlier the night before. Why is it so hard for you to concentrate?
That’s a dumb question. You know why. You shake yourself out of it as your eyes slowly fall back into focus. It’s Zach that’s droning on about the topic at hand as you sit with your fellow teaching assistants in Javier’s office. Zach is standing next to the professor’s desk, waving his hands wildly as if he’s the one lecturing. You’re trying desperately not to, but you can’t help but sneak a peek at Javi. You attempt to hold back your giggle when you see the deadpan look he’s directing at Zach, who doesn’t even notice, too high on his horse to read the room. You realize you’re staring at Javier before he does, but you still hope that he felt the burn of your gaze.
a professor!Javier Peña x reader fic
- rating: m - explicit language, sexual themes, age gap (legal), smoking, alcohol
- word count: 5.9k
- summary: you’re Javier Peña’s teaching assistant for an introductory government course, and neither of you are thrilled about it, but you’re determined to crack through that grumpy exterior before the semester is over.
- a/n: this will be 2-3 chapters.. it was originally going to be one long part but i realized there was more that i wanted to do with it than just one go. this is my first reader fic and also apologies if there are any tense issues with the verbs! this was inspired by someone (or multiple someones?) who wrote to @zeldasayer about javi as a professor. so this has probably already been done, but here’s my take? y’all i’m so nervous to post this lol
You’re reading the words wrong. You know you are. Your eyes glaze over the words etched on the page over and over, but the ink doesn’t lie. Right there, on the flimsy, tri-folded letter paper it informs that you are the teaching assistant for an introductory Government course this semester. You could get over that, you supposed. It wasn’t the course you were supposed to teach, but you were entering your last semester as a candidate for a master’s in Public Policy. It wasn’t that far off.
No, the part that perturbed you the most was the professor slated to lecture the course. Javier Peña. Who the fuck was Javier Peña? You were supposed to assist your mentor, a sociology professor who’d taught you most everything you knew. You’d spent countless hours in her office, griping about your courses, the dumb men who thought they were above you, and how you were going to achieve your hopes and dreams of changing the country’s broken systems as a public servant. She was a real-life hero, your idol and it was your mission to follow in her footsteps. She’d agreed to pull some strings so that you could TA for her in your last semester at the University of Texas. But instead, you’d been assigned to American Government with some professor you’d never heard of.