I/O is for -- Old Longfellow
Whew, okAY, this was fun to write 😁 Another I'm pretty unused to, but I've always enjoyed reading other people's works with him, so it was fun discovering my own interpretation of this character. And the randomized aspect of this one for the rating/dialogue was... interesting, lol 😅
I do hope you all enjoy though!
And here is the 2k event masterlist, for your browsing pleasure!
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Pair: Old Longfellow x Reader
Dialogue: “I should’ve done this ages ago.”
Word: Opinion.
Rating: NSFW (but more suggestive, really)
Category: Hurt/Comfort
Word Count: 800
One last kiss pressed to your opened lips before Longfellow pulled away, and rolled off from overtop you. The bed creaked and protested at his shifting, but you found yourself moving closer to his warmth, his barrel-like chest akin to a furnace after all of the exertion between the two of you. You felt the heavy rise and fall from his breathing as you settled on your back beside him, your head tilting to rest against his shoulder as one of his large hands moved to slide around you.
“Mm, tellin’ you, should’ve done this ages ago.” The rough fingers of Longfellow’s free hand brushed over the smooth inside of your thigh as he spoke lowly in the dim, moonlit room. You smiled at the sentiment, humming your agreement as his touch lulled you into a blissful fog.
A whoosh sounded through the still air as his hand left your leg to pull the thin bed sheet over your bodies, feeling the way your touching skin grew clammy against him, and moving to fend off the chill that inevitably crept in from the ocean outside. The blanket was scratchy as it settled over you; rough, like so much else on this hard, seaside land, but it didn’t matter.
You felt warm, safe, sated. There was something about the older man that just made you feel cared for.
“Should’ve let meself move on, be happy like this again, ‘fore it’s too late.”
“You did.” You said simply, eyes only half open as you looked up at him, the glow of your union fading from your body, leaving your limbs buzzing and tired.
“Nah… This ain’t enough. Ain’t good for you.” He huffed decidedly, turning on his side to face you, leaving the mattress to squeak out its protest, and you to shift to accommodate his new position. “An old man like me? You’ve got so much left in ya, darlin’. Me though… Well, I’m still kickin,’ I guess. Jus’ slower than I used to, that’s all.”
“Old? You’re kidding.” You let out a humorless sort of chuckle. One that you’d definitely heard from him and began doing yourself now, as an adopted habit. “I’ve got a hundred years on you, young buck. At least.”
“Oh, hush. I wasn’t frozen none of my years. It don’t count.”
You felt a playful shove into your side as his elbow made contact.
“See it plain on my face, my age.”
“Is that what you’re worried about?” You turned to look at him, the sleep temporarily dashing away from you with each somber word out of his mouth. “You worried that I care what people think, seeing you with me out there?”
“Well–”
“Cuz I don’t.” You told him firmly, prodding a finger into his solid chest for emphasis, “They don’t know me, and they don’t know how good you are for me. How could they tell that just from a look?”
“Suppose they couldn’t…” Old Longfellow conceded, knowing any argument with the pre-war lawyer was one he didn’t have much chance of winning.
With a decisive nod, you rolled onto your back again, settling in against the pillows behind you. They too, had a certain sort of scratchy-ness to them, and a musty smell, but still… In your fatigue, they felt as good as any plush, perfumed furnishing you could imagine.
“... You really think I’m good fer ya?” Longfellow whispered, almost as if he didn’t expect an answer.
“Mmhm.” You hummed, eyes now closed and half on your way to dreamland already. “Why else would I be with you?”
“Never really thought to question it, if I’m honest. Just felt too good to be true. Smart gal/guy like you, scrappy one too, heh.” His little chuckle shook the bed, and forced a small smile to your tired lips. “Thought maybe I was dreamin,’ or that the fog had gotten to my brain. Didn’t matter to me though, since it was so sweet a musing.”
His fingers resumed brushing over your leg as he spoke, pulling you further towards sleep, but still, you forced a couple more words out, hoping to satisfy him enough to encourage him to chase his own call to blissful, restful unconsciousness.
“It is sweet. And it’s real.” One of your hands delved down to grasp with the one circling over your leg, giving it a firm and definite squeeze. “I want you, Longfellow. No matter who thinks what. Even if you think it isn’t right, or you’re too old, or whatever else you tell yourself, ‘s not gonna stop me from wanting to be with you.”
“No?”
You shook your head, eyes still closed firmly, stubbornly.
“Hm. Well, ain’t I lucky… Alrighty, puffin, I’ll let ya get some rest.” He gave your hand an affectionate little squeeze in return, and you felt the mattress shift as he released you and turned over himself.
“Guess I can’t be too out of it for my age, if I can still wear you out like that…” You heard him chuckle to himself as you passed into sleep, and a playful grin rested on your face as warm darkness brought you into its embrace.
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Headcanon for Old Longfellow, Nick Valentine, and Porter Gage?
Hi! Thank you for the requests! I've already posted stuff about Nick Valentine and Gage (along with Butch) here. However, here are some Old Longfellow. Once again, I don't know a whole lot about the Far Harbour DLC besides DiMA so please forgive me if I make any more mistakes. Have a lovely day!
This man can FISH. He's so good at it too. He can also identify any type of fish local to the region.
I guess this generally goes with being a hunter and guide, but he's also excellent at identifying edible or poisonous plants, foraging, and understanding the best times of day and year to hunt animals.
Has an insane collection of books, and often has them stacked in random piles and not on shelves. He'll also use the book stacks to store stuff or furniture.
A lot of these books are pre-war, often about the local wildlife and flora of the area. He also has hunting guides, game (as in hunted meat) cookbooks, foraging books, and history books. He also has a lot of scout guides, guns, and first-aid magazines.
Oh and maps too! Tons, from all over the U.S. too!
He also has a few brewing books, he attempted to brew some wine, beer, and whisky of his own, but it didn't turn out so well. He now mostly sticks to hunting.
He really likes bourbon, rum, and whisky. However, he'll drink whatever he can find.
His house is full of furs and skulls which he sells to travellers and locals. He'll also sew these into pillows, jackets, shoes, clothes, etc anything really.
He sometimes goes into town to teach some of the locals, especially the younger kids, basic scout and survival skills and what not to forage. He also teaches them how to tell what animals are in the area.
The kids often see him as an old and relaxed uncle. They consider him a badass.
Has done a bit of taxidermy.
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