Random oneshots I makes over time based off of prompts I find and requests.
Feel free to request anything, smut too but please, nothing hardcore.
Let's all just have a nice time, roasting marshmallows and telling spooky campfire stories as the whole...
Every night was a rough night for Virgil. He'd be in a state of feeling completely dead, but unable to drift off into unconsciousness.
He had been laying flat across the living room couch in the darkness, eyes closed shut as he laid still, the thumb of his right finger rubbing against the warm gold metal ring around his fourth finger instinctively. Virgil had been trying to fall asleep for ages, but to no avail, he was fighting a loosing battle.
It was roughly around three a.m.
The thunderstorm outside definitely didn't help. Every few minutes another thunderclap would shake him awake or a lightning strike illuminating the house through the windows would scare him to death.
Virgil's ears perked up at the sound of keys jingling against the front door, typically a sound of satisfaction: it meant Logan was finally home.
It meant warm cuddles and soft kisses and being scolded for being up so late with words too big for Virgil to comprehend. It all gave him a warm feeling in his stomach.
Ready to be loved and cared for, Virgil's eyes opened at the sound of keys falling onto the floor and a loud swear coming from behind it, leading to a few loud sneezes.
'God what did he fucking do now?' Virgil thought, worried for the wellbeing of his husband. He pushed himself up of the couch, hurrying to the door to unlock and open it, gasping at the sight of a fully drenched and shivering Logan, fiddling with his mess of keys, most of which he didnt even use anymore.
"Jesus christ get your ass inside!" Virgil exclaimed he shivered, a hard gust of wind smacking him it the face. He only just then caught sight of how bad the storm was; Florida hurricanes were not something anyone wanted to mess with.
Virgil ushered his quivering husband inside and shut the door, "Don't move an inch." He stated, pointing a finger at Logan befor rushing to turn on the lights in the house, retrieving a million rags and a towel.
He came back to see a shaking, slouched version of his husband. Logan's nose was leaking, his face was completely red, and Virgil could audibly hear his ragged, wavering breath as he clutched himself. His conscious state was a disaster and he was a sniffling mess. Virgil felt his heart broke into a billion pieces seeing his baby so broken.
After properly laying down the rags for Logan to stand on, Virgil threw the dark blue towel over his shoulder, cupping Logan's cheek and shuddering. He was below freezing.
"Lo, sweetie?" Virgil spoke up, voice below a whisper. Logan hummed in response and leaned his head against Virgil's warm touch, still shivering as he stepped onto the neatly placed rags so he didn't make the floor a mess.
