“Come the fuck on…” You muttered, fingers tugging and pulling, tightening and then undoing to redo because it wasn’t working right, “Fuck‘s sake.”

Simon heard your mumbled words and looked over, ready to tell you to shut the hell up so he could sit in peace, but his eyes fluttered at how your thighs bulged against the straps of your pouch.

“Swear to God, I will going to shoot my damn leg off,” You grumbled, tightening your strap again. For some reason, it wasn’t sitting right.