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crushribbons · 2 months ago

Text

𝖈𝖗𝖚𝖘𝖍𝖙𝖔𝖇𝖊𝖗 (𝖓𝖔. 𝖎𝖎𝖎)

prompt: [TEACH] receiver is sexually inexperienced and approaches sender to ask them to teach them and help them get more experience after a bad date. (source)

char: don hume [the boys in the boat] x fem!oc

warnings: SMUT (18+ ONLY), oral (m. receiving), fingering (f. receiving), public-ish sex, uncharacteristically bold don, not enough sex for how much lead in there is 😭, unedited. this is a work of fiction about the character portrayed in tbitb and not affiliated at all with the actual historical figure (like duh)

She flopped down into her seat at the gigantic library table so hard that the dozen or so books scattered across its surface jumped. So did its occupants: a dozing Bobby Moch, dewy-eyed Joyce Simdars and Joe Rantz, who never pulled their foreheads apart or stopped giggling, a frenetic Chuck Day, and a bemused Don Hume. The latter sprang to his feet and began clearing a space for her to throw her arms out dramatically in front of her and bury her face in them with a groan.

"So, the date went well?" Joyce asked, finally peeling her gaze away from the blonde who's fingers her diamond-clad hand was entangled with. Her friend hushed her, face still hidden.

"Please, I don't want to hear even a word from an engaged person right now."

"That bad?" Joe laughed.

"Worse."

She pulled her head up and saw Don Hume looking at her with a humiliating amount of sympathy. He hardly ever spoke to her, but then, he hardly ever spoke to anyone. But he did other things, little things like holding doors or clearing a spot at study tables for her, that made her wonder if maybe he wanted to speak to her more. "When he went to kiss me good night, I missed his mouth and his teeth hit my cheek and it was just..." She buried her face in her arms again. The happy couple chuckled but Joyce reached across the table to rub her forearm.

"Don't worry! It's always awkward like that at first! You'll get into a rhythm–" Bobby Moch jerked awake, head flying off the hand that was supporting it, and cried, "Wh-?! Y'heard him, get into a rhythm, boys!" Joe and Joyce exchanged a very parental glance that said We better get this one to bed and gathered their things. Bobby looked ready for Joe to scoop him into his arms and carry him to bed, but the three of them bade the rest goodbye as they drifted out of the library and towards the boys' dorms. Chuck, who hadn't heard a word said the entire time, too terrified of his impending economics exam the following morning, trailed behind them while still reading from a dog-eared textbook.

Don didn't move. He also didn't speak, his sight fixed on the book in front of him that she hadn't seen him turn the page of once yet. She smiled at him and his eyes widened before a wobbly one was returned to her.

They sat in comfortable silence for a few more minutes. She picked through one of the foreign language volumes Chuck had left behind (the title read Advanced Economics II) but couldn't distract herself from the pit of embarrassment in her stomach over the awkward date she'd just endured. She sighed.

"Y–mm." Don had started talking, then stopped himself just as quickly.

"What?" she asked. She cherished the few times she could remember Don eeking out a few words in her presence. His forehead was the color of a brick.

He cleared his throat and tried again. "I'm, um, I'm sure that your date wasn't all as bad as you're thinking," he murmured, eyes still glued to the history text in front of him. Don's voice was so soft, low, even. The frustration she felt over the awful evening started ebbing away. She pushed away her book.

"It certainly was, Mr. Hume, but I appreciate your attempt to lighten my mood," she responded with a grin, and Don huffed a tiny laugh under his breath, at last looking up at her.

His eyes twinkling, he asked, "It was that kid who sits in the front row for English Lit?" When she nodded, he chuckled again. "His voice bugs me. And always with the hand." Don mimed the way her date raised his hand in their shared lecture, hopping a little in his seat and wiggling his fingers to make it clear just how much he knew the answer. She laughed until tears formed in her eyes, not just at the impression, but at the ever stoic man performing it.

Don looked positively giddy that he had cheered her up, a smile creasing the corners of his eyes. A gorgeous smile, she thought, a little dreamy, as they continued chatting about other irritating characters in their classes. It wasn't until the student charged with the night shift at the library came over to tell them he was going home, and that they should lock the front doors behind them when they left that they realized just how long they'd been talking.

At some point, Don had moved seats to sit beside her, and she didn't know when, but their jackets had also been removed. Her knee was pressing into his thigh while he regaled her with a terrible date of his own.

"...and there's her father, waiting for us on the front step, with an actual shotgun," Don finished, and she doubled over.

"You're lying!"

"I wish." A rueful smile wrinkled his button nose. When she recovered from her hysterical laughter, another warm silence gradually fell between them. She was about to suggest they head home with reluctance when a ridiculous idea occurred to her. A preposterous idea.

But Don was looking at her expectantly and pieces of his black hair were falling in his eyes and his teeth were running across his lip, so she tried to feign nonchalance as she mused, "Too bad there isn't a way to get all this awkwardness out of the way before you go on the actual dates. I can't even kiss correctly. How long is that going to take me to get right?" She didn't look at Don, but she felt the leg that hers rested against stiffen.

When he spoke again, his voice was dry. "Yeah." He was fiddling the collar of his shirt like it was uncomfortable. It seemed his non-verbal tendencies were returning.

"Wish I could practice with someone."

She really couldn't have made it anymore obvious, but Don had never been good at finding the subtext in English literature, and he wasn't good at finding it here. "Yeah," he said again.

All the lights in the library save for the lamps on their table were off for the evening, but she could still see Don fidgeting in his chair. This wasn't going to be as easy as it had been to get a date with the hand-raiser.

She gasped, as if a lightbulb had suddenly illuminated itself above her head. "Hang on...what if we practiced, you know, together?" Don looked ready to fold in on himself. "It's fine if you don't want to!" she continued, not wanting to spook him.

"No!" he said quickly. "Practice is good. That's how we win races. Repetition is helpful, for me at least..." The excuse was flimsy and he knew it and she knew it. They stared at each other, trying to decide if this was as bad of an idea as it seemed. Don decided first. "Let's try."

The kiss was not at all awkward, and after they'd tentatively pressed their lips together and managed to make full contact there, Don reached for her neck and pulled her closer to him, so she was forced to climb into his lap. She couldn't stop the little sounds that leaked out of her while they pawed, increasingly feverish, at each other, but he drank them down so willingly that she stopped trying to after a while.

"We should practice more," he groaned when sucking a red mark below her ear made her press herself against the hard bulge in his pants.

"I could sure use it," she agreed after a cheeky bite of Don's lower lip made his fingers dig into the skin under her sweater, just above her ass.

If the night librarian had known that Don Hume was going to sweep several antique books off the study and throw an eager co-ed onto it, he probably wouldn't have given them free rein to close up the building whenever they wanted. But because he had, they took their time. Don admitted in a meek murmur that he'd never used his fingers on a woman before, and she graciously gave him a tutorial that left her legs shaking, her hand guiding his in and out of her cunt.

Don tried to smooth her clothes out after she came on his index and middle fingers and kiss her sweetly, but she wasn't finished studying yet.

Practice makes perfect, after all, she reasoned with herself as she sank to her knees in front of Don and unzipped his trousers. "A-are you sure?" he breathed, his hand ghosting over her head as if she'd snap to her senses if he spoke too loudly and leave him to deal with the erection she was now licking a stripe up by himself. "Ohh, fucking God." She took him as deeply into her mouth as she could, but she figured he must be quite a bit larger than the average man, because she could only cover about half his length. His cock was hard and pink and leaked onto her tongue when she swirled it over the tip. Don's hips bucked into her mouth and his hands finally tangled into her hair.

Don and her had run in the same friend circles for awhile now, but she'd never seen him be anything like this before; he whined, he whimpered, he fucked her mouth so desperately that she could hardly believe it was the same man who had, only an hour ago, been almost too shy to talk to her. "Shit, shit! Oh, God, okay, you've gotta stop," he moaned, and grabbed a hank of her hair, gently pulling her off him. Her lips gave a small pop around the head of his cock. "Christ, you definitely don't need more practice with that. I was so close to bus–" Don's mouth clamped shut and he looked at her with horror. "I'm sorry. That was so crass."

She hopped up on the table again and giggled at him. "It was also crass of you to finger me within an inch of my life, Hume. I'll allow it." Don grinned and she kissed him again, the tastes of both of them (because Don had needed no instruction for him to pop his slick-covered fingers into his mouth after he'd made her cum) mingling on her tongue.

"I need some help finding my way down here," he muttered as they kissed, his fingers pressing up into her exposed cunt again. Her skirt was pushed up around her waist, her panties pushed down around her ankles. Don's shirtsleeves were rolled, and she watched his forearm flex as he lazily circled her clit and gazed at her through a lusty stupor. "Could you draw me a map?"

"Y–fuck, Don!" He sunk one finger inside her and the cry that issued from her lips made him smile proudly. "Again?"

"Repetition is helpful for me," he repeated, before spreading her legs wide.

#he's so quiet i CAN'T just have them jump into it im SOWWY #also Laney Stop Being the Biggest Joe/Joyce Truther Challenge #FAILED #tbitb fic #don hume fic #don hume x reader #don hume x oc #tbitb smut #laneywrites #crushtober

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