You were in the TF141. You were new to the group and they had yet to fully put their trust into you but they were still kind no matter what. Well… most of them. Simon, your Lieutenant, was quite cold and basically refused to talk to you.

The entire 141 had to go on an operation together so here you all were, getting ready to pile into the truck together. Gaz was driving, Soap was in the middle, and Simon was sitting on the left.

“Um guys… where am I supposed to sit?” You questioned, leaning against the door. Soap slowly smirked and patted his lap. “C’mere,” he grinned out.

Simon growled and grabbed your wrist, pulling you into him. He grabbed your waist and sat you on his lap, slamming the door shut. “Drive,” Simon grunted out.