Prince Charming's a Jackass |Damon Baird x Reader|

Life sucked.

At least, that was your thought process as you fought the Locust once again. Cole and Marcus were covering Anya and Sam, who'd been cornered by a few of the disgusting grubs. You were nearly out of ammo for your Lancer and you weren't stupid enough to run across the bullet-ridden sea of a field and grab some from the fallen grubs' guns.

You crouched down, bullets firing a mere inch over your fucking head. You growled and switched to your Gnasher, hopping over the barrier and managing three headshots in a row.

"Fuck you!" You shouted after the last satisfying shot.

"I'm not the type to judge, but damn that's a nasty kink." You heard over the comm.

You rolled your eyes and killed another Locust, "Shut up, Baird."

"Y'know, it's always "shut up" or "fix this" when it comes to talkin' to you guys."

"Shut the fuck up and kill the god damn grubs!" Marcus shouted.

"Testy, testy…" Baird mumbled as he curb stomped a Grenadier.

You shot another grub, though you fucked up on active reload and accidentally jammed your gun, which not only would bring a lecture from Marcus on learning how to work your god damn gun, but teasing from Baird because he was, well… Baird.

"Fuck! Cover me!" You shouted, ducking behind a barrier and attempting to unjam the Gnasher.

Baird made quick work of the smelly grub in front of him and turned his fire to the oncoming Locusts headed your way. Every now and then his eyes glanced over at you, wondering what the hell was taking so long, as he had grubs of his own right in his fucking face!

"(Name)!" He shouted over to you, "The fuck's goin' on?!"

"My god damn Gnasher jammed, that's what!"

"Use your Lancer!"

"I'm almost out of ammo!"

"I have extra, come take it! Just… be careful, yeah?"

You stashed the shotgun on your back and grabbed your Lancer, using the last of the ammo to shoot any Locust you could before gearing up to head over to Damon.

You took off running, your pistol wounding a few grubs. But, as your shit luck would have it, you ran out of ammo.

What a fucking day to be alive. Though if this pattern kept up, you'd be dead soon.

You tossed the worthless gun and pulled your Lancer back out, the chainsaw bayonet being your last resort until Baird gave you some ammo and hopefully fixed your shotgun.

"On your left, Princess! Jeez…"

You revved the chainsaw, cutting the oncoming grub in half, and just when you thought you were in the clear…

"FUCKING LONGSHOTS, MAN!"

Why Baird was yelling, you weren't sure. Why was he running over to you? Baird, shoot the damn grubs… Baird? What…?

You suddenly fell to your knees, the sound of the battlefield deaf on your ears. You looked down and saw blood pouring from your stomach.

Oh.

That explained the yelling.

The blond picked you up and ran, "Medic!" He shouted.

His fingers wrangled your bandanna from your hair and he hid behind a totaled car. He wrapped the long piece of cloth around your middle, looking up and around.

"I said medic, god dammit! I need help!"

"I'm coming Damon, hold on!" Anya shouted, Marcus covering her retreat.

Baird looked down at you, his fingers brushing against your cheek lightly, "You're gonna be alright; Anya's coming to take care of you."

His lips brushed against yours and he ran back out on the field, tearing it up with Cole, who was as enthusiastic as ever, if not more so, as he killed the Locusts.

"You think you can kill Baird's lady and fucking live? Not today, motherfuckers! Cole Train's up in this bitch! Woo!"

"She's not dead, asshole!"

xXx

You didn't know how much time had gone by or even the extent of your injury, but you were lying down on a hospital bed, so it couldn't have been that shitty. Your eyes cracked open and you groaned at the bright light above you, eyes clamping shut once more.

"Aw, look at that. Sleeping Beauty woke her damn self up."

Your middle finger flipped up as you rubbed your eyes with the other hand. You felt warmth on your shoulder as you attempted to sit up, followed by a soft rumble in your ear.

"If you tear those stitches, I promise you I have no problem letting you bleed out."

"Love you too…" You grumbled.

Baird moved the overhead light away from your face, finally allowing your eyes to open. His blue eyes were full of concern and his blond hair was sticking up in odd directions. The trademark goggles were absent from his face, and the usual smirk was replaced with a slight frown.

"You're hurt pretty badly. Almost didn't make it. Anya managed to stich you up just before you died though, so send her a fruit basket. Or condoms. Don't need any Marcus spawn runnin' around…"

You chuckled lightly and he sat down on the edge of the hospital bed. He'd stripped off his gear long ago and was left in his pants and a dirty undershirt. His fingernails, while always covered with the best gloves he could find, still managed to have dirt caked under them, you noticed as he took your hand in his, the golden bands shining together.

"Luckily for you, I fixed your gun." He teased, picking up the Gnasher, "Changed the skin too. Was sick of that ugly ass red."

It was now white with a blue stripe in the middle. A much better looking gun, you noted. Not that you'd actually say that out loud.

He set the gun down and leaned in to press his forehead to yours, "Look… Feelings aren't my thing, as if that wasn't fuckin' obvious. But, I do feel the need to get this out. You mean the whole god damn world to me and all that shit, so don't go dyin' on me anymore."

"Deal…" You murmured, "And just throw me the clip next time."

"Learn better ammo management."

"Go fuck yourself."

"Til' Anya clears you for that, yeah, I'm gonna have some hairy palms."

You smiled softly and shook your head, holding his hand tighter, "I love you."

He kissed your forehead with a half smile, "Yeah, yeah, to the moon and back, all that shit."