Marvel: Reader Inserts

The Library ~ Part 8 ~ Logan Howlett x Reader

AUSTRALIA

It had been one of the good days— great days. The sky was endless and blue, the ocean stretched out beside you and the packed sand beneath your tires made for a perfect ride. You had laughed more in the past hour than you had in weeks. Logan had even raced you once, just to see you grin over your shoulder at him. He swore there was nothing in the world more beautiful than that.

You pedaled ahead, standing slightly on your bike, coasting into the breeze. "Bet you won't make it to that driftwood before me!" You shouted back at him, laughing.

"Darlin', I'm made of metal and I still move faster than you," he called, grinning.

And then your body jerked. Your hands slipped from the handlebars. You legs gave out. Then you crumpled sideways, landing hard in the sand with a dull thump.

"No," Logan's voice ripped through he air. "NO."

He dropped his bike before it even stopped moving, sprinting towards you with a feral roar. But he wasn't close enough or fast enough. You laid there, twisted slightly, face slack, eyes open to a sky you could no longer see.

"Come on, come on, come on—" Logan skidded to his knees beside you, already checking for breath, a pulse, any sign of you. "You were laughing." He brushed the sand off your face. "You were happy. You were right there— why can't I ever get to you in time?"

The waves rolled in, gentle and deafening. He cradled you, breathing hard, forehead pressed to your temple.

"You can't leave me in a place like this, baby. You can't."

Time slowed. The wind picked up. And way too long later, you finally gasped. Your body jerked again as you blinked.

"I'm here," he whispered. "I got you. You're okay."

Tears streaked your cheeks before you even fully realized what had happened. "I— I fell," you cried. "I was just— I was winning—"

"I know, I know. You were winnin'."

You clung to him, shaking. Logan didn't hesitate as he stood up with you in his arms. He left the bikes and began walking back to the hotel. You were still disoriented, he could tell as your head moved to the side and you gave the ocean a questioning look like you hadn't known it was there.

By the time he got you back to the hotel, he could smell the blood from the scrapes on your knee and elbow. Logan set you down gently on the bed, crouched in front of you, and looked up with that tight jaw and soft, dangerous eyes.

"Let's get you cleaned up, sweetheart," he said softly. "Then food. Anything you want."

You nodded.

Logan helped you into the bathroom, undressing you carefully. His hands hovered when they found the abrasions, his thumb brushing lightly against on.

"You didn't even cry out," he murmured.

"I didn't feel it until now," you whispered.

He helped you into the shower and followed in behind you. The water was warm, almost too warm, but you let it pour over you as Logan washed the sand from your skin with reverent hands. He knelt in front of you to rinse your knees, pressing soft kissed to your hip when he thought you wouldn't notice. But you did.

When you were clean and dry and wrapped in one of the soft hotel robes, Logan led you back to the bed. He helped you under the covers, pressing a kiss to your forehead.

"You want pasta? Or somethin' local?" He asked.

"Anything... as long as you stay right here."

"I'm not goin' anywhere."