Thankfully, however, the US Maritime had a training facility set up in Seattle, which made it more convenient for him to visit when he could. What she didn’t anticipate though was that he would be away for the entire training period. She supposed she figured it’d be different being that the maritime wasn’t military but alas! She figured wrong! They may not be the military, but they still valued structure and discipline just as much. The worst part wasn’t even not having him in bed with her at night, it was how quickly he had to get back after the few times he was allowed to visit for a nice dinner! She hated it so much! She already missed him terribly and if she missed him this much, she didn’t want to think about how dreadful it would actually be when he was finally sent off to sea.
She refused to think about that right now though. Instead of dwelling on him eventually leaving, she forced herself to redirect her focus on the now, and tonight, her mother had invited her over for a nice dinner and evening. The offer alone lifted her spirits but they were lifted twice as much when she was told that Grady, her ‘little’ brother, would be there too. She always enjoyed spending time with him; even more now that he was busy with his university studies. Being with her family would definitely help take her mind off Don.
“Darling? Did you see this?” Don laid the newspaper down on the table, moving his elbow out of the way while Kate filled his mug with coffee.
“See what?” She sat down in the chair next to his, her designated spot.
“This.”
He pointed his index finger on an ad in the newspaper he’d been reading. Cocking her head, she slowly chewed her bite of food as she followed his finger. When she found the ad, she read the headline:
this will be a two part story! part two (w smut) Some Clear Night
Don Hume x fem!reader
tw:tooth rotting fluff, first date, meet cutes! anxiety from don but over all really cute things.
Don looked at you from across the large dining hall. the curve of your nose pointed downward as your eyes drank in the words of whatever book you were reading. in between small bites of food, you’d smile and grin to yourself at whatever was happening, thinking no one else was looking. but Don Hume was. as he ate his food slowly that day, next to Bobby and Stub, subtle glances were thrown in your direction. he knew who you were. yes, he did indeed. knew your name. your major. what classes you took. the latter only because you took a lot of the same classes he did. you sat in front of him during geology. he’d watch you then too. the shine of your hair, the curve of your chin when you turned to the left to watch the professor. so long story short, Don Hume knew who you were. but he’d never thought it’d go farther than that. knowing you at a distance. wasn’t sure if he wanted it to go farther than that. he wasn’t exactly the best person to be around. he knew he was too quiet for many. knew he wasn’t as handsome as some of the other boys on the rowing team. knew that he would never be the first pick.
“Don.” Stubs voice cut through the other chatter. “Don. Donny!” the giant of a man snaps in front of Dons face, forcing him out of his thoughts. Stub throws a knowing glance between you and his friend. “why don’t you talk to her?” he asks before taking a bite of green beans. Bobby cuts in around the mashed potatoes in his mouth. “yea Don! just go talk to her, we’re not blind.” Bobby explains, swallowing his food. Don flushes and looks down at his plate, shaking his head. Stub nudges his shoulder. “you could use a girl, y’know.” Bobby talks over Stubs comforting words. “ah hell, Don! you don’t talk to anyone besides us two most days, you don’t ever say you fancy anyone, you don’t do anything besides rowing, I’d agree with Stub!” he exclaims, setting down his fork with a clatter. he’s got that look in his eyes, like he’s planning something. “you need a girl.” Don still shakes his head. “you could just say hi. ask her if she wanted to grab a cup of coffee or lunch.” Stub offers, his jaw moving tightly as he tries to help his friend. the man knows he’s lovesick over this girl, seen the way he looked at her. but he just needed the push in the right direction. “a cup of coffee? what is this, your moms drawing room?”Bobby cuts in, laughing at Stubs words, only making the tall man glare at the much shorter one. “y’know I’ll bet you five dollars you wouldn’t ask her out after all.” he says, standing with his plate before waltzing off. Stub sits next to Don, throwing small glances at him. he’s eerily silent now, not just his normal quiet. “do you think I have a chance?” Don asks softly, head tilting so he can look at you once more. Stub nods immediately. “course you do. don’t listen to bobby.” he says, clapping his friend on the shoulder. “you want to talk to her?” he asks, and Don nods. “introduce yourself. compliment her or something. ask her out.” the dark haired man nods. “well wh-sigh what am I even asking her out to?” Dons tone is defeated and helpless. “lunch, dinner, midnight snack, it doesn’t matter, Don. you just got to be yourself. and y’know, talk to her.” Stub nods once and digs back into his plate, looking at you as well.
he can see why don would like you. you’ve got a kind look. like you’re pleasant to be around. when he looks back at Don, it’s like he’s looking at a helpless puppy. “Don. do it now, or you won’t ever.” he says, forcing his friend to look at him. “plus, don’t you want to put Bobby out of five dollars?” Stub smirks at that, causing Don to give him a glare. Don stands shakily, feeling his forehead bead with sweat. Stub glances up before standing as well, helping the man prepare. Dons eyes flit between you and Stub as he wipes his brow. Stub straightens his jacket and tie, smoothing out wrinkles. Don nods. Stub grins a toothy smile and moves from Dons path to you. he looks on eagerly as he takes a few steps, pride blooming. then it halts like a record. Don turns back quickly, fists clenched. “oh no you don’t.” Stub says sternly, turning him around by the shoulders and pushing him to you. Don stumbled forward before righting himself and walking over the last couple steps to you.
you might’ve just seen the most handsome man in your life. his dark hair hangs in front of his face a bit, covering up his eyes only slightly. his form is strong, forearms toned with muscles and kissed by the sun. his skin is pale still, dotted with freckles, wait you know this boy. Don. seen him in the halls of the university, in your geology class. you always tried to turn your head to get a better look at him without being obvious. tried to throw him subtle looks while you walked by him. tried so crane you head to peak at him during rowing practice when you helped Professor Ulbrickson with grading papers. you’d always sit on the bench inside the shell house, peering over the lake as you heard the professor, well, coach, yell at the boys. you always stayed hidden from them though. they weren’t hidden from you though. no, the practice gave you the perfect opportunity to watch them, watch Don be the stroke, setting the pace of the boat with each strong roll of his wrists and push of his legs. yes, you know this boy. oh gosh, why is he talking to you of all people? shouldn’t he be with the other rowing boys? when did his eyes begin to look at you like that? “hello.” His voice is quiet yet sturdy. heat rushes to your face. “hi.” you reply, shutting your book. “I’m Don.” he murmurs, arms stiff at his side. you reply with your name. “I uh. I-it’s nice weather isn’t it?” he says, and you nod. “it’s a real sunny day.” you reply. he nods and looks over at a window, that seemingly permeant frown still on his face. you like it though. his gaze flits back to you. “wouldyouwantogetcoffeewithme.” the words are hurried and low, like he was scared to say them. taken aback, your lips part as you gaze up at him. he wants to go out with you? more heat rushes to your cheeks. maybe he likes you! but you try and clear your mind. can’t leave him without a answer after all. “that’d be wonderful, Don.” you reply, smiling softly. the boy huffs out a sigh and nods, eyes playful now. “I-is Friday after class okay?” he asks. you nod again, folding your hands together. “great.” is all he says before he turns on his heel and walks back to a tall man by the dining hall entrance. it’s Stub. he’s smiling at Don, clapping him on the shoulder. they exchange words, and Don throws you one last glance over the shoulder before leaving.
“Ah, I knew you could do it Donny!” Stub says, chuckling at the red faced man.
“I think I need to puke.”
——————————————————————————————————
Friday came too fast. Dons palms were sweaty as he tied his tie for the fifth time this morning. the cracked mirror in the shared dorm showed his form, face riddled with anxiety and that frown. sweater was running from the small sink in the tiny bathroom as Stub finished brushing his teeth. in his tank top and slacks, stub is every inch a handsome man. “Don, it’ll be fine. she likes you, you like her.” he says as he buttons up a shirt. Don glances over his shoulder and nods once, huffing in a breath. when they leave for the many classes of the day, something itches in Dons brain, the never ending trace of fear. his two o clock geology class rolls around and he spots you walking to the door from the other direction. so like a schoolboy, he quickens his pace just slightly to get the door, holding it open for you with a nod before looking down again. “thank you don.” you say, smiling at him before looking away, blush coming to your cheeks. the man almost melts in his shoes. he’s never loved the way his name has sounded more. loved the way the vowels curved out of your lips. the class drags on too slowly, he can feel his heart beating quicker and quicker in his chest as the clock ticks to three, the end of the lecture. as the class dismissed, he managed to squeeze next to you, letting the door file out with other students before facing you in the hall. “well. uh, shall we?” Don asks lowly, offering his elbow to you. his stomach does leaps when you smile and nod, slipping your arm in the crook of his.
he guides you off the campus, onto the train car, and into downtown Seattle. the cafe sits nestled on some not so busy street where the inside is blessedly warm as you sneak into a small table. when you move to take a seat, all the things that Stub drilled into him that morning appear in his head, and he pulls out your chair, sliding you close to the table when you’re seated. he slides into the other chair, watching silently as you remove your coat, left in a baby blue dress. his hands rub against each other, fidgeting to remove tension. the waiter comes over, and the two of you murmur out just a cup of coffee at the same time. with a chuckle, you glance at Don who’s eyes widen slightly. “sorry. a cup of coffee for both of us.” he says, nodding at the waiter. the man leaves, and Don tries to look back at you with a more confident look. “thank you for bringing me here.” you say gratefully, keeping the conversation light. “thank you for coming.” is Dons reply, his face angled to the table now. his hands come up to rest on the table and the silence is loud. so you do the one thing you can think to do, the one thing you want to do. your fingers find Dons, resting a top of them and wrapping around them. Dons head lifts up quickly and blood rushes to his cheeks. “I wanted to come.” you say, nodding reassuringly. the man across from you nods again, not letting go of your hands. “how about Professor Cartwrights lecture today?” he asks, trying to talk with you. you let out a small snort. “I thought he’d never stop talking!” you exclaimed, lighting up. “well when he gets on the properties of magnesium, I think we can expect him to never be quiet.” he replies, smiling softly.
the hours tick by like minutes, and Don, much to his own surprise as well, talking with you for every second. the waiter comes by with the bill finally. Dons eyes widen when he sees the time. it’s almost seven thirty. “I-we should head back.” he says, standing. your eyes soften and you nod, standing as well. Don stands behind you, helping put on your coat. his breath fans across the nape of your neck, and your lashes flutter. he walks you out into the Washington night, helping you board onto the train car again. his knees knock against yours as he holds your hand in silence, heart swelling as you chatter on, filling the conversation. the university campus is dark and not crowded as Don walks you slowly to your dorm. the lantern light illuminates the doorway of the entrance when you stop. your nose tips up to look up at him, and not just past him or through him, but at him. “thank you, Don. I had a lovely time, truly.” you say, smiling as you rise on your tip toes to press a kiss to his cheek. Dons system seems to freeze, and he turns beet red. but before you can enter fully into the dorm, he reaches out and grips your wrist, pulling you gently back to him. “th-thank you. I enjoyed being with you.” he says, trying to drag on this moment. your lip tugs upward and he sees your teeth poking through in a smile. still, he doesn’t let go of your wrist. “could I kiss you?” he asks in almost a whisper, eyes hopeful. now it’s your turn to blush. instead of answering, you step closer to him, your bodies almost touching, allowing him to pull you in an embrace. Dons hands cup your cheeks, and he looks over every feature and every mark you bear. then, slowly, and so gently, he presses his lips in a chaste kiss against yours.
“thank you.” he murmurs lowly against your forehead before placing a kiss there.
“thank you.” you say back, bringing your entertained hands to your lips so you can kiss his knuckles once before retreating to your dorm.
——————————————————————————————————
Stub lays on his back, awake as he waits up for Don. they didn’t have practice every other Friday, thank goodness. so this date worked out for everyone really. the door finally creaks open and he’s met with a truly smiling Don, grin plastered on his face and his head up on cloud nine. it’s a bashful smile, and Stub grins as he sits up. “went good, i assume?” he asks, watching as Don plops down on the bed beside him. “went great, Stub. she’s incredible.” he replies, rubbing a hand over his face. the taller man chuckles and reaches for his wallet on the beside table. pulling out four dollar bills, he plops them on Dons chest. “They’re from Bobby. he lost the bet, obviously. I took the liberty of taking a buck for me, since I helped.” Stub says playfully, laying back down. Don smiles and folds the bills, putting them in his wallet. “y’know Don, that might’ve been the most words I’ve ever heard come out of your mouth at once. this girl might do wonders for you.” Stub jokes, only to be met with an extinguished light and the cool darkness.
an:eeeeeekkkk! This was so cute (to me at least) I hope y’all enjoyed it as much as I did! The next part will be out soon! (Tw smut). Anywho, don’t hesitate to send in more asks or stuff for whatever! tbh I’m thinking of adding a fic for Stub now! he’s so pookie. anyway!
-cass💕:D
@forsythiagalt and @sassyandclassy94 , thought y’all’d like this! 💕
An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works
Chapters: 1/1
Fandom: The Boys in the Boat (2023)
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Relationships: Don Hume/Original Female Character(s)
Characters: Don Hume, Original Female Character(s), Gwen Price (OC), Bobby Moch (Mentioned), Original Characters
Additional Tags: Post-Canon, Romance, Meeting the Parents, Fluff, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Historical, Historical References, 1930s
Series: Part 3 of Don and Gwen
Summary:
“My parents want you to come for dinner.”
Whatever Don had been expecting her to say, it wasn’t that. “What? They… really?”
Or
Don meets Gwen’s parents, and Gwen has a secret she’s keeping from Don.
Hello everyone!! I’m going to start by saying that I realize the Navy SEALs were not a thing in the early 1900’s, let alone were women allowed to join the military, but this is for the plot!! With that being said, let’s get into this!
It was the kind of gray, salt-tinged afternoon that only Seattle could pull off — the air heavy with drizzle, the faint scent of pine drifting off the water, and eight boys dragging their aching bodies back toward the shell house after another round with Coach Ulbrickson. Their shoulders burned, their hands were raw, and every one of them was still a little stunned they’d actually made the cut.
Joe muttered something about dying in the boat before the season even started, and Shorty laughed. Don just smiled faintly, too tired to join in. The place felt strangely quiet without Ulbrickson’s bark bouncing off the walls.
Then the sound of dress shoes — sharp, deliberate — clicked down from the office above.
Every head turned.
A figure appeared at the top of the stairs — not Coach, not Bolles, but someone dressed in the crisp white of a Navy uniform. The jacket was pressed so clean it gleamed even under the dull warehouse light, and the cap tucked under one arm revealed a sweep of chestnut hair pulled back in perfect military fashion.
“Who the hell—” Shorty started.
“That’s gotta be Kenny,” Joe said, wiping his brow with his towel. “You know, Ulbrickson’s boy they keep talking about.”
The figure reached the middle of the staircase, and it was clear enough even through the drizzle-blurred light — not a boy.
Commander Kennedy Ulbrickson stopped when she saw them, a dozen exhausted rowers frozen mid-stride. Her gaze swept the group like a practiced inspection — but it snagged on one in particular. Don Hume.
For a heartbeat, the air changed. He felt it — the pull, the surprise, the inexplicable warmth in his chest. She had eyes the color of the Sound before a storm, steady and unreadable. A thin scar ran from the corner of her left eyebrow down across her cheek, not marring her beauty but deepening it, like proof of something hard-won.
Don swallowed, acutely aware that his hair was plastered to his forehead and his shirt clung to him in all the least impressive ways.
Kennedy, for her part, thought he was utterly adorable — tall and quiet, eyes soft despite the exhaustion written all over him. There was something honest in his face, something steady. She caught herself smiling.
When she reached the bottom step, she tilted her head just slightly and offered him a smirk — confident, teasing, a spark of mischief beneath all that Navy polish.
“Gentlemen,” she said smoothly, voice low but commanding.
Every single one of the boys stared.
Then Shorty let out a whistle, and someone — maybe Joe — said, “Holy hell, that’s Kenny?”
The shell house erupted in laughter and hoots as she strode past, white uniform glinting against the damp floorboards. Don felt his pulse hammer in his throat.
Kennedy didn’t look back. Not that she needed to. She could feel his eyes on her, just as surely as he’d feel hers in the days that followed.
The morning of the race dawned bright and sharp, a thin mist still rising off the water as the boys from Washington lined their shell up beside Cal’s. The smell of salt and varnish and adrenaline hung thick in the air. Every one of them could feel it — that nervous electricity that comes before something big.
Don sat at stroke, jaw tight, eyes on the horizon. He could feel the boat hum under him — his teammates shifting, breathing, waiting. Somewhere on the shore, he knew, Coach Ulbrickson stood with his ever-stoic expression.
And beside him, in dark dress blues, stood her.
Commander Kennedy Ulbrickson looked like something out of a dream — all crisp lines and quiet confidence, her black crackerjacks perfectly tailored, the white piping stark against the dark wool. She stood straight, hands clasped behind her back, cap tucked under one arm, watching the boats glide into position.
Her father might’ve been coaching the team, but her eyes were on one rower in particular.
Don Hume.
There was something about the focus in his face, the way his shoulders flexed with every stroke, the quiet intensity that lived behind his calm expression. She tried to keep her composure — she was, after all, a Commander, and this was her father’s crew — but her heart thudded faster every time she spotted him through her binoculars.
When the gun went off, the Sound erupted with motion.
Eight oars bit into the water in perfect unison, and Washington surged forward. The boys rowed like they were made of one heartbeat, one purpose. And when they crossed the finish line first — ahead of Cal, ahead of everyone — the crowd on shore exploded.
Kennedy didn’t realize she’d cheered until her throat hurt.
She was already halfway down the dock when her parents reached the water’s edge. Coach Ulbrickson’s usual stoicism cracked into something rare — a grin. When Kennedy threw her arms around him, he actually lifted her clean off her feet, laughing. The team froze in shock; none of them had ever seen him like that.
She laughed — a bright, warm sound — and pressed a kiss to his cheek before linking arms with her mother, both of them glowing with pride.
On the dock, the team stood grinning like fools, soaking wet and speechless.
It took Ulbrickson a solid five seconds to notice that none of them were moving.
“Well?” he barked, still smiling. “Someone get that boat out of the water before it floats back to Washington!”
The boys scrambled, but Don couldn’t quite tear his eyes away. Kennedy was walking up the dock beside her mother, her uniform catching the sunlight, her stride confident.
And just before she disappeared into the crowd, she glanced back — just for a second — and the faintest, knowing curve touched her lips.
The part where Don goes to Evangeline's parents house to ask for her father for his blessing to ask Eve to marry him.
Don took the front steps two at a time and then forced himself to slow down, hat in hand. The Browns’ porch smelled like wood polish and cinnamon—Mrs. Brown must’ve been baking earlier—and a ribbon of late light fell across the braided rug. He knocked, wiped his palm against his trouser seam, and reminded himself he could settle an eight at thirty-eight strokes a minute; surely he could manage a conversation with one man he already respected.
The door opened to Mr. Brown in his shirtsleeves, spectacles low on his nose, a newspaper tucked under one arm.
“Evening, Don.” His smile reached his eyes. “Evangeline’s out with her mother, but you’re welcome to come in.”
“Actually, sir,” Don said, heartbeat thudding like the start horn, “it’s you I hoped to speak with.”
Mr. Brown’s brows lifted—knowing, pleased. He stepped back and waved Don toward the parlor. The room was warm and orderly: a clock ticking, framed school portraits of Eve and her older brothers, the nicked surface of a well-used coffee table. Mr. Brown set the paper aside and sat, leaving the armchair opposite open like a small invitation.
Don didn’t sit right away. He stood square, squeezing his Baret in both sweaty hands.
“Mr. Brown… Walter,” he corrected, because the man had told him twice to call him by his first name and it felt like the day to be brave, “I’m.., Well...”
Mr. Brown smirked in quiet knowledge of the fear that was seizing up the gentleman in front of him. “Don, take a seat before your legs give out.” The older gentleman chuckles as he leans in the armchair across from Don.
Don nods quickly but his body won’t move unless these words escape his mouth. “ I’m here to ask your blessing …to marry Evangeline.”
There. Said. He sucked in a large breath of air.
Words came easier after the hard one. “She is—she’s the best person I know. With her I feel… steady. She makes me want to be kinder than I was yesterday. I don’t talk much, but with her, I can. I will take care of her, and I’ll spend my whole life proving worthy of the way she looks at me. I’ll finish school, keep rowing while I can, work wherever I need to. I’ll love her the way you and Mrs. Brown have taught her love ought to be.”
He stopped, a little out of breath now, and it wasn’t until now that he sat because his legs thought that would be wise.
Mr. Brown’s answer was immediate, delighted, almost boyish. “Yes.” He laughed, shaking his head. “My word, son—yes. I couldn’t say yes fast enough.”
Relief hit Don like a clean catch, and his eyebrows shot up in surprise before he managed a smile that felt larger than his face knew what to do with.
Mr. Brown leaned forward, forearms on his knees. “We’ve watched you, you know. Not just on the water.” He tipped his chin toward the kitchen. “You clear plates without being asked. You listen when Eve talks about her classes. You fixed that wobbly chair and don’t mention it. You meet a room with gentleness first.” His voice warmed. “That girl of mine, she rescued a duckling once and kept it warm until it was able to swim off with its mother. She needed a man who understands that kind of heart. I believe that you do.”
Don’s throat went tight. “I love her sir” he said simply.
“I know.” Mr. Brown’s eyes shone. He stood and held out his hand. Don rose and met it. The handshake was firm, then turned, without either of them quite deciding, into a brief, awkward, perfect hug—two careful pats on the back, a shared breath, a step apart.
“Welcome to the family, Don,” Mr. Brown said. “And do me a kindness—Don’t forget to call me Walter before the wedding so it feels natural by then.”
“Yes, sir—Walter.” Don ducked, sheepish and happy at once. “Thank you.”
“Have you a ring in mind?” Walter asked, not nosy—curious the way fathers are when they want to help but don’t want to trample.
“I’m saving,” Don said. “I wanted it to be right.”
“That’s exactly right.” Walter crossed to the mantle, thumbed a little wooden keepsake—something he’d whittled long ago—and set it back. “Whatever you choose, it’ll be perfect because you chose it for her. And you’ll tell me when you ask? Rose will never forgive either of us if we don’t at least pretend she didn’t already guess.”
Don laughed. “I’ll tell you. I thought I might take her out on the water. There’s a spot where you can see all the stars in the sky.”
Walter’s smile softened. “Fits the two of you.” He clapped Don’s shoulder, “You’ll have hard days. All the best marriages do. Fight fair. Keep listening. Keep showing up—on time and with your heart open. And keep coming here for Sunday supper, or her mother will show up on your porch with a casserole.”
“We’ll be here,” Don said, meaning it.
The clock chimed the half hour. Walter walked him to the door. On the threshold he paused, suddenly, fiercely proud. “You’re a good man, Don Hume. Thank you for loving my girl the way she deserves.”
“Thank you for trusting me with her,” Don replied, and the words felt like a vow in his mouth.
They shook hands again—almost family now, not guests and host—and Don stepped back onto the porch with the world clearer than it had been an hour earlier. The evening smelled like cinnamon and cool air. He tucked his hat under his arm and headed down the steps, heart light and sure, already turning over the exact words he’d say to Evangeline on that boat in the calm water when he asked her to be his wife.
Thank you @chutefullofholes for bringing my attention to the random Instagram post, so I had to share all of them. We’re getting more Cal content finallyyyy plz Atropia get released…
Word count: 11,183 (woo… buckle up, guys. This is our longest one yet)
Rating: Mature
Content warnings: I mean… they’re married🤷🏻♀️ it’s not explicit, just a few mentions. OFC tries to initiate in one scene, then later we’ve got some post-coital affection. Like I said, it’s nothing huge or explicit
Author’s note: Shout out to @eviebelieve-y for helping me smooth it out. It was pretty choppy and crappy pre-beta’d. Thank you!!🫶🏻
When Don walked through the door that evening he was stressed . There was no doubt about it because he looked it; he looked it in every way. He had a tendency to carry stress in his shoulders and it showed in his posture. His complexion was pale and dark circles were beginning to form under his eyes. He was also giving off signs that he hadn’t been feeling well; with his appetite appearing to be down on top of sleeping restlessly the last few nights. Which of course was starting to make Kate worry about him a little bit.
“Hi, Sweetheart,” she greeted tentatively while he slid his jacket from his shoulders. When she saw that he seemed to be in a sour mood, she added sympathetically, “Bad day at work?”
Don only grunted in response as he kicked off his shoes, which was another indication of his foul mood. He always wore his good pair of Oxfords to work and usually, he took the time to carefully remove them. So the fact that he was kicking them off was proof of the kind of day he had.
“You… wanna talk about it?” Her tone was careful as she watched him make his way over to the kitchen sink.
“No.” His tone was gruff as he began to wash his hands.
Summary: The part where Don is his lady’s knight in shining armor (inspired by series of ideas that @i-am-a-lost-girl16 and I threw back and forth to each other)
Word count: 6,554 (a TAD longer than I intended)
Rating: Teen and up
Author’s note: This installment was actually supposed to take place in between “That Was Unexpected”, and “The Proposal” but alas! Your girl jumped the gun a bit and kiiinda forgot she started this one🫣
Kate resisted the overwhelming urge to roll her eyes and snap back.
“It’s not up there,” she stated firmly. “If we had that - which I know we don’t - it would be right here. Not on the top shelf.”
This customer was giving her a terrible time! He kept demanding an item that she knew her father didn’t carry in his store yet he kept on insisting she look for it! She was down to her last nerve and was about to snap when she heard the little brass bell on the door ring, signaling that someone was entering the store. She quickly glanced in the direction of the door and, despite her annoyance, felt her heart leap when she noticed it was her boyfriend who walked in.
“Don!” She tried to keep her tone neutral as she was still dealing with these pains in the butt. “I’ll be right with you.”
Bobby would ALWAYS have to be the banker (as a law student and the coxswain, he could make sure the boys are following the rules and be a pain if they're not - which he will be). Chuck would be the cheater everyone gets mad at, Joe and Shorty are the sore losers, while Don and Gordy have to be separated because they're always sliding money to each other under the table and trading properties to keep each other in the game. Stub is the first to go bankrupt, while Roger is always arguing with Chuck (the stereotypical bow twins lol) while Johnny (good old fun-loving Johnny) battles it out with Don near the end and emerges triumphant.
OH NO, @morningdawnbreaks !! I lied! Bobby was NOT the first to go out, Jim McMillan was (followed by Bobby if I correctly recall)😭 I guess I should’ve looked at my Instagram highlights again before I hit post🥺
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