thinking about simon riley and nail tech!reader when simon's on base and finally has a chance to take his gloves off. they're caked in dirt and grime, even a little bit of blood from the gruesome work he puts up with.
he sheds the rest of his dirty clothes, ready to hit the shoes when a certain scottish sergeant snickers from the locker over. "lookin' real pre'ty, lt." he drawls, eyes catching on the little designs on simon's nails.
simon casts them a glance, not catching the teasing tone in soap's voice and instead interpreting it as a genuine compliment.
"thanks, the missus' did 'em."
they're painted black, one nail on each hand decorated with a painted skull, and some other neat designs alongside them. it makes his heart flutter every time he looks at them, and he makes sure the higher-ups don't catch wind of it—regulations and all.
still, it brings him closer to you, as he always has a way to keep you close when he's gone.
"tha' so?" soap hummed in appreciation. he hadn't heard much about you—only really knew that simon had a bird by seeing the ring on his finger, but never said anything of it. everyone has someone they're trying to keep on the low for safety, and simon was one of them.
simon just nodded and moved along with his shower, not expecting the very next week to be inviting the scot into his home so you could do his nails too.
"look, lt, we can match."
simon just grunted, arms crossed with a frown under his mask. nail painting was your special routine, but at the same time, he wouldn't have it any other way. time well spent with his favorite people in the world.
