Marvel: Reader Inserts

Every Breath You Take ~ Logan Howlett x Reader

The forest was cool and quiet, the kind of quiet that meant something could be watching. You followed Logan up the slop, trying to keep your footsteps light even though your legs were screaming. Recon missions weren't usually intense, but this one was longer than expected. The sun was already dipping low. You kept your head dow, counting your breaths— four in, four out. Or, at least, you tried to.

The tightness in your chest had started creeping in twenty minutes ago. You'd hope it would pass, but you knew it wouldn't. Your steps were getting shorter. Your lungs felt smaller.

Ahead of you, Logan passed and glanced back, "You good?" His voice was low and gruff— always rough around the edges— but there was some concern in it.

You hated that you noticed every little inflection. You hated even more how you grew sheepish under his gaze. You nodded quickly. "Yeah. Just... steep hill."

He didn't look convinced, but kept walking. You let yourself slow down a few steps. Your hand slipped into your jacket pocket and grabbed your inhaler. You angled yourself behind a tree and took a quick puff, holding it in and waiting for the magic to kick in. It didn't.

You cursed silently and pushed forward. Each breath felt thinner. Your throat itched, your chest burned. You told yourself to not make a big deal of it. Logan wasn't already doing a majority of the work. You didn't want to be the reason h had more to carry. But then you stumbled. It wasn't big, just a misstep on a branch, but your foot slid out from under you. You caught yourself against a tree and the sound of your wheezing carried, causing Logan to turn sharply.

"Alright, stop," he said, arms crossing over his chest. "What's goin' on?"

"I'm—" you tried to speak normally. "I just need a sec."

"You're winded. Bad."

"I'm fine. It's just... I've had worse."

Logan's brows furrowed. He scanned you head to toe, eyes catching the slight tremble in your knees and the inhaler in your hand. His gaze softened just a bit.

"Hand it over." He held out a calloused palm.

"What?"

"The inhaler." He wiggled in fingers. "Let me see how much you've used." Reluctantly, you passed it over. He turned it in his hand, then looked back at you. "Doesn't look like this is doin' the trick right now."

You shook your head, still holding onto the tree. Your chest was heaving with the effort of just standing upright. Without another word, he turned around and crouched low, hands braced on his thighs.

"Logan, what—"

"Piggyback time. You're done walkin'. Don't argue."

"I can't— That's— You don't have to—"

He twisted enough to glare over his shoulder. "You really want make me ask sweetly? Or do you need me to just throw you over my shoulder?"

You stared, dumbfounded. Then, with a mixture of shame and relief, you stepped forward and wrapped your arms around his neck. He hoisted you up in one smooth motion, one hand under your thighs and the other steadying your back. You felt the strength in him immediately— it was so effortless and natural and warm. His body heat seeped through your layers, grounding you.

"You weigh nothin'," he muttered, moving his hands into a better position to start walking. "Should've done this an hour ago."

You couldn't help the wheezy laugh that escaped. "You're... ridiculous..."

"You're worse. Tryin' to push through an asthma flare on a recon op. What were you thinkin'?"

"I didn't want to slow you down. I didn't want you to think I couldn't handle it."