#cod mw reader insert

You start to tap your foot against the concrete floor in the weapons locker room. Crossing your arms tighter around your chest, “Simon don’t… you’ve been back for hours now.” Simon gives a small shrug of his shoulders, “Debriefing was long.” That’s all he can muster right now, “That’s bullshit, you’ve walked past me a dozen times already and you’ve pretended like I don’t even exist.” You say with a huff, and for some odd reason that’s the one that lands all crooked and bent in Simon's chest. 

Simon doesn't know what to do, what to say so he just tilts his head. The skull mask catches on the fabric of his jacket and the fluorescent lights of the weapons locker room gleam off of it. “I was… I didn’t pretend.” He says his words are finally coming back to him. 

Your eyes go wide, “oh…” You lick your lips and roll them between your teeth, “So you were just purposefully looking everywhere except me in the hallway?” You ask with a bite in your voice. Simon can’t manage all this right now, the silence that takes over the room is astounding. It rings in his ears and the fuzziness that clouded the rest of the room leaves you staring at him blankly. 

You sharpen your gaze on Simon and for the first time in a long time the look on your face actually hits somewhere deep in him. “Just fuckin’ say it Simon.” You grunt out, your glare doesn’t flatter as you continue to stare at him with your arms still crossed over your chest. Simon has never heard you curse as much as you have since you cornered him in the weapon locker room. 

“It's operational awareness.” You scoff and roll your eyes “God, Simon you’re such a fuckin’ liar.” You groan. Maybe he is a liar, but not about the important things. He might be a lot of things, he might be a lethal weapon for the military, and a little… a lot closed off to anyone, terrifying to everyone, but most importantly he doesn’t. Simon can’t lie when it comes to you, when it comes to how much the man cares about you. 

It’s just hard to admit it sometimes, hard for the words to come flowing out loud and proudly. He most definitely won’t be saying it here, not where the cameras can see him break and be something else then what they made him out to be. Simon won’t mutter words where the commands can still breath down his neck and make him grit his teeth together under his mask. 

He won’t say, or do a single thing where the look or the word can have someone asking questions that neither one of you can afford to answer. Simon steps out from the corner you’ve pushed him into, he keeps his voice low as he stares into your eyes through his mask. “You know we talked about this.” Simon says flatly like he’s trying to regain some sort of control over the situation unfolding. 

“That’s not… we walked about not being overly suspicious. Simon not whatever you’re acting like, as if I killed your fuckin’ dog.” You exhale heavily and your shoulders seem to fall a little, “I didn’t.” You roll your eyes at Simon's half assed attempt. 

“Simon you refuse, like violently refuse to sit anywhere near me. You won’t dare talk to me if we are in the hallways, or the offices. You won’t even take a fuckin’ coffee from me I try and hand it to you.” You say throwing out all the time that you had in fact tried to be near him or tried to touch him, and Simon had simply thrown through moments to the side. “You know that people watch right?” He asks as if you’re the stupid one. 

You roll your eyes, and your arms fall. “Yes I know that people watch,” You look around the room, gesturing to the emptiness of the weapons locker. “But there is no one here.” You watch as Simon looks up towards the corner of the room, and points with his bone covered glove. “This room has cameras.” Simon says pointing it out. 

You can’t help but back up, not due to Simon size but the way the next words are making you feel. How your chest tightens as the words come falling from your lips. “So what… are we just… we are just acting like we’re strangers now?” You ask him, there is no more anger in your words, no venom that spit back, instead it’s replaced with a deep rooted hurt. 

Your voice is so quiet and small and that’s what hurts Simon the most, it’s too honest of a feeling that erupts between the two of you in the locker room. Simon feels the words hit his chest and feel like a piece of random shrapnel lodge its way into his bones and leave that aching feeling behind. “No!” Simon practically erupts immediately. 

You lift your eyes from the dirty weapons locker room titling. “So what are we doing then Simon?” Your voice drips with concern and warmth. You can see his jaw tighten and his eyes go darker than before, even with the fluorescent lights of the locker room you can’t see his pupils. 

‘You’re everything that I can’t have’ Simon thinks to himself as he stares down at you. ‘But you’re everything that I want to have.’ His stare is cold, but you know there’s something brewing underneath it all. “You and I are being careful.” 

You don’t agree, shaking your head at him like a disgruntled parent. Your face shifts, your brows are no longer pinched together, arms swinging at your sides. “We can be careful without you being cruel about it, Simon.” There is something that shifts behind Simon's eyes as continues to look down at you. You can tell your words have hit a nerve. One that Simon isn’t sure what to do with just yet. 

You don’t feel great about it, but a part of you knows that karma is a bitch, because he deserves it. “You can’t treat me like I don’t exist then act like I do when we are alone. It’s not fair, and it’s not right.” You mumble out. You watch as Simon hooks two fingers under the hem of his skull mask.

Tugging it up just enough to see the bottom of his chin, the plumpness of his lips, the slight scar that goes over the top of his lip, and just the tip of his nose. It’s a risk, the both of you know it. His file is bare of a photo, but this is a calculated risk that he is willing to take if it’s only for you. “Come here, birdie.” He mutters softly, you’re hesitant at first, “You don’t… Simon.” You say softly. 

“Just give me a few seconds.” He murmurs softly, “that’s all I’m asking for, please?” He asks. Your eyes flicker to the door, to the camera that you can see in the top corner of the room, back to the door and finally they land on Simon. You left out a final breath before stepping closer to your secret lover. 

The moment you’re within reach of Simon's arms his hands are finding your waist and pulling you in with a restraint that feels controlled barely. It’s not a rough pull, and neither is a desperate one. It just holds a certain meaning behind it. 

Simon rests his still mask-covered forehead against your own. He takes a deep inhale, breathing you in as if he hasn’t gotten the chance for way too long. You smell like military grade soap, and laundry deterrent, the kind that the military doesn’t offer, maybe a few sprays of your own personal perfume. 

The thing that Simon smells the most is that you remind him of home. 

“I wasn’t ignoring you, Birdie.” He tells you quietly, like you’re in a crowded space. “I was just… I was tryin’ to make sure that you didn’t get hurt.” He admits to you. You feel your shoulders lower. “Simon, you know that I’m a big girl, I’m not made out of glass. I promise you that I’m not gonna break.” Your voice is going soft. “I know birdie, I know that you aren’t made out of glass, but that doesn't mean I don’t wanna protect you anyways.”

 He tells you. One of his hands brushes a slow and calming circle into your hip. The motion is grounding for you, and him if he’s being honest. “I also don’t want command or anyone else using you just to get to me.” He says with a worry in the back of his voice that he isn’t sure encapsulates the stress and worry he feels. 

You swallow, because you hadn’t really thought about that. All you could think about and feel was the way it had made you feel while Simon ignored you every single chance he got. “That’s not… it didn’t feel like that, Simon.” You admit to him finally. 

“What does it feel like then, Birdie?” You watch his lips as he asks you the question. You take a large breath in and on the exhale you explain yourself to him. “Simon, It felt like you were, or are ashamed of me.” Your voice is so quiet and small and it breaks Simon's heart. 

The words barely sound like anything, but still it causes Simon to go still. All that continues for a second is the breathing between the two of you. “Birdie, you know that’s not true at all right?” You nod, but then you’re shaking your head. “Say it then, tell me Simon.” You’re demanding more from him. 

Simon isn’t sure what to say. Does he say that he’s utterly and completely fallen in love with you? No, that sounds juvenile, and desperate. Maybe he can say that he literally stares down at his watch and wants the hands of the watch to move faster so he can sneak off to your room at night. Also no to that, it makes sound like you’re something that has to be hidden, and you clearly don’t want that. Does he tell you that he’s got the way you laugh memorized in the back of head so he can replay it while he’s away on missions. You might think he’s crazy for that one. Or maybe he can tell you how he keeps the extra hair tie that you always leave in his quarters he takes it and leaves it in his vest pocket like it’s a fucking lucky charm 

The thing he can’t say any of that, not here, not in the middle of the weapons locker room, not with the damn camera scanning around the room. Watching and waiting. 

He does the only thing that he can think of. Simon kisses you. It may be a brief and chaste kiss, but it still carries a softness that you’re always surprised that Simon has tucked away. It’s a barely a brush of your lips together, but Simon can still taste the remnants of your cherry chapstick, and it’s so fucking real. 

The intention is there too. 

You melt into him, and the kiss anyways. When Simon pulls away, he rests his forehead on yours once again. “Birdie, I’m not ashamed of you at all.” He says, “I’m just scared.” He admits to you. You blink up at him, “Of what? Of me?” You are unable to stop the words from coming out. Simon is shaking his head, “Not of you, of losing you. I can’t lose you, birdie.” 

That seems to quiet you, your lips clamping shut right away. Your hands slip up and towards the front of Simon's jacket. Your grip is light, but still has grounding as it is when you’re not here on base and he’s got your hand in his own hand. “We can’t… I can’t keep pretending that we don't exist.” You let out in a small whisper. 

Simon gives you a simple nod, “I know, birdie.” You continue on. “I don’t need anything big, no huge declarations of…” You say cutting yourself off, “I just need you, I just need you Simon.” The breath that Simon lets out is a slow one, “Okay.” He says, “Okay?” You questions, not understanding. “I’ll make sure to be better, do better for you.” There seems to be no room to argue with him, even if that’s what you wanted to do. 

You search his eyes as much as you can with the mask scrunched up around his nose, and the dark paint around his eyes. “You’re promising me that?” You ask, Simon hums. “You know what I don’t do.” You shake your head, “I don’t make promises that I can’t keep.” You give Simon a small nod, one that is full of understanding. 

A moment passes and then another before you’re sighing. “Does that mean you’ll finally let me sit next you at lunch?” You ask hopefully, Simon lets out a huff, “People are going to notice.” You roll your eyes, “Of course they’re gonna notice, but I’ll steal your chips.” You mutter with a grin. 

“You’re an evil little thing, do ya know that?” A smile tugs at your lips, “There you are, there’s my boyfriend.” Simon's eyes go wide, groaning softly. “Don’t call me that, especially here.” You pout your lip trembling ever so slightly, “But you’re my boyfriend, Simon.” 

Simon leans down and into your space, his voice barely above a quiet whisper. “That’s only for when we are in private, birdie.” He tells you. You give your head a little tilt. Teasing him, “So if you’re my boyfriend in private… then are you in public?” You tease him. He lets go of your waist and brings one hand up to your face, brushing his gloved thumb over your cheek. “I’ll be your ghost.” It’s corny and has your rolling eyes but still the smile in there. 

The sound of footsteps echoing outside the hallway has both of you freezing in your arms. Simon is automatic to lowering his mask back over his features and you mourn the loss of his skin and the taste of his lips immediately. Simon also takes a few calculated steps back, until he hits the lockers. 

The minute he steps back you also mourn the loss of the heat that you hadn’t realized was surrounding you. The distance snapped perfectly back into place, like a gun into a holster. Like it’s a perfect muscle memory for Simon. 

It’s cold, and far too professional for how you’re both feeling. You cross your arms over your chest again, partly holding yourself and your control, your expression going neutral instead of the rising happiness that was flooding your body just a few moments ago. 

Just like that the door is opening, and in pops Soaps head. “You’re up for weapons check, Lt.” He says all Simons gives him is hard and cold. “Copy.” Soap looks deep and sees you, his gaze flowing down your frame. “Was I interrupting something?” He asks. 

“No” “Yes” You both say at the same time, you glare up at him, your back still facing away from the door. Simon doesn't look down at you, not willing to break the illusion just yet. Soap just raises a brow at Simon and shrugs his shoulders, “Right.” Then he’s leaving you, the door shuts with a loud click that echoes in the room. 

There you are standing on opposites of the wall, you hear the clock tick by a full ten seconds before Simon is murmuring softly. “Meet me in my quarters, midnight.” You don’t look up at him, rather the floor the way it shows wear from where soldiers stand and take their weapons of choice, the lockers that are getting wear and tear from use. “That sounds like being careful, Simon.” You say. “We will be careful, Birdie.” 

There is a pause, and then you’re smiling to yourself. Feeling the apples of your cheeks growing warm and tight with happiness, and overflowing joy. “Then you better not be late, Ghost.” You mutter. Simon watches you go first. He can be your ghost even if it means being reckless, and impulsive. 

You’re more than worth it all 

Posted on: 02/23/26