#imagine cod

[alwaysshallow]

casually listening to skyfall and i thought.........

farmer!price x reader princess??? he's the kindest person she ever met, he takes care of king's garden from time to time. their relationship develops, she asks him about things, about world, she's never really been outside of the castle. he's the most fascinating person she ever met.

her father is looking for a husband for her, and she's busy hanging out in secret with farmer, who's not only just a farmer, but he's also seven years older than her. he's reminding her constantly about it, but she doesn't give a crap, and clings to him like a moth to a flame.

everything could end up badly, but princess doesn't give a shit about it.

[starstruckmiraclekitty]

Simon Riley who has got it BAD for seeing you wearing his dog tags.

Something utterly primal within him awakens whenever he sees his tags dangle from around your neck, dipping in between the valley of your breasts. You like wearing his tags? He’s fucking done for.

Absolutely fuckin adores when you ask to wear them. Won’t have to ask him twice. Hell, he wont even let you ask. He’ll just throw the chain around your neck the second he’s home from deployment.

No matter how innocent you try to play it, anytime he sees you wearing them his cock hardens in his pants almost painfully.

Will almost beg you to ride him in bed, aching for the sight of you on top of him- aching to see his tags slapping off of your bouncing breasts.

Loves to yank the chain, either pulling you in for a deep searing kiss as he rams himself up into you, or railing you from behind as his tags slowly imprint their mark onto your neck.

Will always stare at you in awe, your breasts covered in his cum with his dog tags falling lazily across your chest. He’s got more mental images of that particular sight in his brain than Simon will ever care to admit.

He hardly ever gets himself off, but when he does, you better believe it’s to the picture of you lying naked in bed with his tags on you. It’s his absolute favorite fucking picture.

Needless to say all rational thoughts go out the window the second his tags slip over your head. Just wear the damn tags for him… okay?

[idreaminphosphorescence]

what if ghost and you were on the same team. and you know, you guys acted like normal teammates. except that one time soap caught you and ghost leaning into each other after one particularly hard mission. gaz saw you kissing ghost on the cheek one morning when you think no one saw you both. price noticed how you both always managed to find each other in a room full of men.

and then one time when the team were hanging out at a bar. you all were pissed. soap asked if you guys were shagging each other and you answered with,

"oh, we're actually married!" you'd said with a bright smile and flushed cheeks.

and the way the men instantly sobered up after that and stared at you, mouths hanging open. soap managed to spit beer on gaz's face. price's cigar hung loosely from his open mouth. you bursted out laughing at the ridiculous sight.

and simon? well, simon thought it was about bloody time they tell the team. (he was getting tired of soap constantly making up conspiracy theories about you and him.)

— masterlist.

[oceantornadoo]

simon riley with a very american girlfriend who gets very flustered at every british endearment he throws her way.

“yeah, love?” youre a puddle in his lap, even when you’re just telling him about your day. you tuck your chin and bite your lip to hide the embarrassment but he’s always too cognizant of you, tilting your chin up so he can see the look on your face. “like tha’?”

“here ya go, sweetheart.” all he’s really doing is feeding you a bit of pasta but you moan anyways, the sound going straight to his cock. your tongue peaks out to lick the sauce on your bottom lip, giving him doe eyes. “i like when you call me that.”

“alright, cheeky” he likes calling out your attitude, especially when you’re on your period. knows calling you cheeky will get you to stop talking back as your cheeks warm with a combination of embarrassment and arousal. you’re tucking your face in his neck to hide your feelings as he chuckles, pulling you in further, never letting you go.

shoutout to @peachetteprice who’s been teaching me british (LOL)😌

[zvdvdlvr]

imagine ur bd being out of the picture and your little girl running up to si ☹️🤍

   “Daddy!”

   Simon looked down, eyes wide at the little girl wrapped around his right leg. Johnny eyed him carefully. He was thankful none of the other café patrons paid any mind. “I’m not your daddy, love,” Simon said. He tugged his leg away gently but the strength of a child is hard to match.

     “Annalise, get off that man,” a woman cried. In the blink of an eye, she knelt near Simon’s leg and tugged the child away.

     “Dada!” She shrieked. Annalise’s chubby hands reached out for Simon’s. “Is dada, mama!”

     You shook your head. “I- I’m so sorry, sir. Her dad was in the military. Anna thinks everyone in fatigues is dada… Do you want me to get either of you a coffee to pay you back? I’m truly sorry.”

     Soap discreetly elbowed Simon harshly in the side. “‘M quite alrigh’ lass. Simon, here, would take a coffee if your serious. If you’ll excuse me, I got to go. Bye, little lassie,” the Scot rushed, face lightinf up at the way Annalise giggled as his parting.

     Annalise was still cooing and reaching for Simon. You just shifted her on your hip and rubbed her back. “Simon, yeah?”

     “That’s me, ma’am,” Simon nodded, feeling suddenly extremely exposed without the balaclava he had decided not to wear for one single occasion. “You don’t have to pay me back-“

     “Nonsense. I would feel like a bad person if I just let my kid latch herself onto your left and call you dad and then just swoop her up and leave,” you said, reaching for your wallet before walking over to the ordering counter. “What can I get you?”

     Simon ordered a small of his usual, watching you pull the money from your wallet without glancing at how much it costed. He observed you in that split second- a beautiful baby girl on your hip who thought any man in camo was her dad. So he had been in the service… Simon watched you smile kindly at the teen behind the counter who fumbled for your change. You murmured a quiet, “It’s quite alright, take your time.” A well-mannered, well put-together individual who was also very attractive. Simon knew what Johnny was doing when he left and Simon would be lying if he said he hadn’t thought you were a catch.

     “I seriously appreciate the coffee, ma’am, but it was unnecessary,” Simon said as you tucked your change back and waited for the drink. “As long as the kid’s alrigh’, I don’t need anything in return.”

     You smiled. You smiled at Simon and he swore his cold heart jumped in his chest. Clearly your bright smile disarmed Annalise as much as Simon because she let out a bubbly laugh and put her hands on your cheek. “What if I said I wanted to?” You asked coyly.

     Simon watched Annalise play with a baby hair near your face. “Then I’d say it’d be a cruel thing to tell a gorgeous woman no.”

[simonzmama]

i just imagine simon to be so casual while balls deep… like toooo casual yaaa feeel??

like your legs sittin all hiked up n pretty on his shoulders, the insides of your calves being rubbed absolutely raw with the drag of his scruffy cheeks n chin against em.

“how was your day, mama?” he shrugs slightly, your thighs jigglin’ with all the movement as he presses himself to the absolute hilt within you, balls pressed against the crease of your ass.

“w-wha-… simon,” you’d gasp, fingers desperately reaching out for his. in which he complies real quick, tangling his fingers between yours and pressing em down to the mattress forcing your thighs to burn in a deep stretch with the way your knees brush against your perked nipples.

“how was your day, baby? cmon.” he smiles down at you, the bush of his thighs slapping against the back of yours. “ya’ went out with the ladies, huh? how much ya’ spend today?”

[euno11a]

it is proven that majority of women can’t orgasm from intercourse alone. So imagine reader who can’t make herself cum, no matter how she touches her swollen little bud.

it’s becoming more annoying as you keep trying, different speeds, pressures, and angles, but nothing seems to work for you! It’s gotten to the point where you’ve quite frankly given up on even touching yourself. You’ve tried for so long, yet always get nothing.

so imagine telling Simon when he asks you, oh so kindly when on deployment, to touch yourself with him to make you both feel good. The silence over the phone when you say you can’t.

“What?”

“I just can’t. I’ve tried, but it just doesn’t work for me.”

“‘Ave ya-?”

“I’ve done everything, Simon! I can’t, okay?”

it was clear that this was something that you weren’t comfortable with talking about. It made you upset that you didn’t “function correctly” like other women. So the night Simon came home, he greeted you with a soft kiss. There wasn’t any harsh underlying emotion, just soft and sweet love. His large and calloused hands would cup your cheeks and look at your eyes, watching the slight confusion slip into your gaze.

now laying against his sturdier chest, looking at yourself in the mirror with him behind you, you knew what was happening. He gently pulled down your sleeping pants, taking his time to let his fingertips brush against every inch of your thighs, all the way down to your ankles. And soon enough, off came your panties too. He started by admiring the slight glistening of your slick right by your entrance, using his fingers to gently dip into the fluid that he loved. Dragging his fingers upwards, he brought his fingertips to the side of your clit, letting your slick be the lube for his fingers.

Simon looked at you through the mirror, keeping eye contact as his fingers pressed onto your clit. The gasp that left your lips was sudden, almost reaching down to grab his wrist, but stopping when he gave you a stern warning look. Everything felt different - his touch felt electrifying, while yours felt like watching paint dry. Why was it so different? Your eyes fluttered shut, head resting on his shoulder when he started speeding up his small circular motion. Your thighs spread a little more, shuddering when you felt a build up in your lower tummy. That burn you never felt unless you used a toy, the burn you got before you were clouded with euphoria; it was coming. You let out small squeaks and whimpers as your hips lifted and you came undone. Usually that’s when you’d stop, let your body just relax, but Simon kept a firm hand across your torso, using his leg to keep yours pinned down so he could still rub you till complete satisfaction.

once his movements slowed and he was panting along with you slightly, he pressed a gentle kiss to your shoulder, looking at your eyes through the mirror again.

“I don’t care what time of day it is, if ye need t’cum, y’tell me and I’ll help, love. Alrigh’?”

you mustered a small nod, droopy eyes falling to the wet and sticky mess between your thighs, and the lovely hands that helped you along the way.

[simonrileysfavteacup]

You stir awake, sighing as you roll over to face your sleeping husband. You sit up, fixing your stretchy shirt over your very swollen belly. You pat Simon’s side. “Si? Si! Si!”

He groans as he wakes up, rolling over and shoving his head into his pillow. “Go back t’ sleep.”

“I want a big mac.”

He groans louder. 

“Please, Si? I’m super hungry. And bubby keeps kicking.”

He sighs, “Look ‘t the time, lovie.”

You almost tear up. 

When he notices the frown on your face, he sighs again, getting up. “Which one is the closest?”

You smile, almost jumping with joy as you lean up to press a million kisses to his cheek. “The one on 42nd.”

He leans down, kissing your belly and your lips before heading off to get dressed. 

He returns 20 minutes later, a bag and 2 drinks in hand. You practically moan at the smell as he hands you the bag. 

“I love you,” you moan as you take a bite of your burger. He chuckles, eating his own. “Bubby loves you too. He’s kicking every time I take a bite.”

“Bet ‘e does.” Simon kisses your belly as you stuff a few fries in your mouth. “Lovie?”

“Yeah?” you ask with a mouth full. 

“Do ya think he’ll like me?”

“For the millionth time, my love, you are nothing like your father. You’re far too kind and too amazing and too sweet. He’s going to love you. Just like I do.”

He chuckles, “Love you too.”

He leans down, kissing your belly. 

“Both of ya annoying little buggers. Always fuckin’ hungry.”

[certifiedyapperx]

imagine you’re dating ghost and no one knows. the two of you have kept it a secret on your end and his just for your protection— because ghost knows what could happen if someone finds out, how someone might try and target you to get to him, or worse, given his line of work.

but then imagine that he’s on a mission, interrogating some piece of filth ready to decorate the fucking wall with his brain matter when the guy says “you know what, simon, killing me would be the biggest mistake of your life.”

immediately ghost would pause, eyes narrowed, though his hardened demeanour wouldn’t fade much, he’d just blankly stare at the prick like “oh yea? n’ why don’ you tell m’ why.”

the shit-eating grin that would crawl across that fuckers lips would have ghost ready to kill him right then and there, but then he’d say “reach in my pocket. pull out my phone.”

id like to think ghost would have absolutely none of this assholes bullshit, not at all entertained by his theatrics. i’d like to think he’d just press the muzzle of his gun to the fuckers temple within an instant, all teeth barred and ready to get it over with when the guy would add,

“your girlfriend is a fucking beauty, isn’t she?”

everything would pause. ghost, time, the world, air, the universe itself—the life that would drain from ghosts face would almost be enough to make his alias a reality. his heart pounding in his throat, his fingers fucking trembling as he immediately reached into the assholes pocket to find his phone—a picture of a woman tied up (face not in view however) lighting up on the home screen. there’d be no thinking rationally, no thoughts in ghosts head except for making sure you were fucking okay. he’d do whatever he’d have to do, kill the guy, leave him strapped there, whatever—he’d be out of that room in two seconds flat and personally flying the helicopter back to your house calling you nonstop every fucking second until you answered.

“hello? si?”

he’d wait a second before answering. taking everything in. background noises, the inflection of your voice. it sounds calm, maybe too calm? he’s grasping his phone so fucking hard it’s a miracle it hasn’t shattered between his fingers.

“princess,” he breathes, fighting with everything in him to keep his voice steady. “see any birds today?”

though it was a genuine question, it also was an established one. ghost had set up a series of questions for a situation precisely like this. if you said blue jay, it meant you were fine, at home, as usual. if you said crows, it meant you weren’t.

“oh just the usual blue jays, si.” he could almost hear the smile on your lips. “everything okay? i miss you.”

ghost would exhale a shattered breath. “i’m coming home.”

and then he’d show up, not all but a few hours later, hands still trembling slightly, heart rate still struggling to regulate. it was too much, reminding him too much of his past traumas, he knew he needed to find better protection for you, but that was a conversation for another time.

he’d come in the house, barely even taking the time to shut the door behind him, almost frenzied again, relentless, unable to relax until he could finally lay eyes on you. and then, the second he did, he’d just pause and look at you, all messy hair and pyjamas still on, in the kitchen cooking breakfast for you both since you knew he was on his way.

and he wouldn’t say a goddamn word, he’d just come up behind you and wrap his arms around your waist, hugging you so tight you’d hardly be able to breathe, his face buried in your hair and his heart thumping at your back. you’d feel the pain the fear the anxiety radiating off him and you wouldn’t try to say anything because you knew he needed this, you knew he needed to see you, hold you, feel your pulse stable and alive. you knew he just needed a moment to breathe.

and so the two of you would stand there like that for a while, and then he’d take a big inhale and spin you around to face him, pulling up his mask to plant soft kisses on your jaw.

“i love you so fuckin’ much.”

[alwaysshallow]

Hear me out, similar to Mark and Lexi but its price and his favorite resident and a patient gets violent with her and he goes nuts when he finds out

you're so right?? so right???

price would be bamboozled at first bc he knows she'd try to reason with that patient bc she's all bubbly and most of the time, she's just a ray of sunshine.

but after this, he would be furious, asking if the guy is still here and if she reported it to anyone? that guy shouldn't even be in hospital. not after getting violent w her. and she's just looking into his eyes, softly speaking that security took care of him.

she hugs him. and that's probably the first time he allows it?? lol homeboy would even wrap his arms around her tigher and he'd close his eyes, his hand caressing her back. she'd almost kiss him but she would get flustered lmaooo

and of course he'd find a guy??? sooner or later??? he's a certified psycho so of course he would. giving him a lecture about hitting women

[starstruckmiraclekitty]

Once you and Simon get married, you best bet this man is OBSESSED with calling you his wife.

You’re no longer listed as Y/N in his phone, you’ve now upgraded to “Mrs. Riley.” And the man couldn’t give two shits about how much he’s teased for it.

Any time he address you, you’re no longer babe, love, honey, oh no, it’s “wife, where’s the detergent?” “I missed you, Mrs. Riley.” “What would you like for dinner tonight, wifey?”

Is SUCH a proud fuckin’ husband and loves to show you off to everyone. Had the biggest shit eating grin as he introduced you as his wife to the 141. “This is my wife, Mrs. Riley.”

Will always find ways to tell people that he’s married to you. Getting his haircut? “Oh yeah, my wife likes it when I get it cut this way.”

At the supermarket? “Excuse me, my wife is trying to find this, can you tell me where I can find it?”

Getting hit on by folk at base? “Oh you like my mask? I’ll be sure to let my wifey know, she’s the one who made it for me.”

EQUALLY loves when you call him husband, or hubby. This man will never get tired of you calling him as such.

Oh, you called him Simon? Who the fuck is Simon? That’s hubby to you, sweetheart.

Sweet fuckin man just wants everyone to know what a lucky man he is that he landed you as his wifey.

[simply-ewok]

rolling over, half asleep, in the middle of the night and when you stretch your arm out you end up smacking ghost in the face, and you can’t help but fling yourself back with a loud gasp before realizing it’s just your man, who yet again, snuck inside and cozied up to you without stirring you (bc he hates waking up his baby) bc he was able to come home early and chose to surprise you. and after you relax and begin apologizing for hitting him you hear his low, growly chuckle as he sits up to pull you into his chest, kissing your forehead before mumbling into your sweet smelling hair “it’s all right lovie, di’n’t mean to scare you.”

[chaosandmarigolds]

Simon Riley! who isn't traditional in the gross way but in the he wants to protect you and make sure you don't feel like you have to provide for yourself, he wants to be a safety net, something to rely on

Simon Riley! Who made it a point to buy your dream house as soon as you were married,

Simon Riley! Who didn't expect houses to require so...much...work

"Baby! The water won't turn off?"

"The fuck you mean it won't turn off just-" Simon grumbled as he dropped the moving box and walked into the kitchen, grabbing the handle of the faucet and trying to pull it, only for it to come flying off. Leaving him dumbfounded and you a giggling disaster.

Simon Riley! Who likes handy man tasks as much as the next guy but the people at the store are beginning to know his name

Simon Riley! Who didn't have a dad to teach him some stuff like plumbing and whatnot so he calls Price

"Oi, Cap-"

"She came to her senses and ran away, yeah?"

"No...I need you to tell me ho' to turn off th' water."

Simon Riley! Who does know how much you love watching him do yard work but doesn't dwell because these godddamn weeds-

Simon Riley! Who loves nothing more than watching you paint the walls of the house, finds it like to be a scene of a movie and it would be a lie if the reality was much better than the cinema

Simon Riley! Who hates facebook because you would randomly send him across the city because you found an old China cabinet you thought would be perfect

Simon Riley! Who doesn't care how his buddies tease him about becoming a domestic civilian so soon, because he would happily fix a thousand houses if it meant a thousand more years with you

(Comments and feedback make my day! annnd yeah that's it <3 )

[suguann]

Being a camgirl comes with its fair share of ups and downs, but you never expected one of the downs to be one of your unboxings from a fan going horribly wrong during a live stream—the proof of it still buzzing between your thighs beyond your finger's reach. 

A rush of embarrassment comes with knocking on your roommate’s bedroom door and asking him for help because you’re nearing the brink of overstimulation and can’t think straight enough to get the words out. It’s worse when he stands there and says nothing—all imposing with two tattooed arms crossed over his chest—while you try to get through a sentence without moaning. 

Simon looks at you with a cocked brow and something akin to amusement as he watches you squirm in his doorway. 

Then he finally says, “Get on the bed,” in a steady and low voice, opening his bedroom door wider.

You fidget under his scrutinizing gaze as you settle back against his pillows, biting back whimpers with a too-hot face and sweat dripping down your back. 

Him settling a knee on the bed makes you jump, “Let’s take a look, love.” 

Simon crawls up the bed, forcing your knees open, and you’re suddenly very aware of how broad and big he looks, towering over you—every part of you laid bare for him to see. A large hand presses right below your belly button, jostling the toy inside you, and this time, you can’t hold back the squeal that rips from your chest. 

“Sorry,” he murmurs, voice imperceptibly deeper, his lips twitching like he’s trying to hold back a smile. “Okay, you’re going to feel a slight stretch.”

You bite your lip. “A-alright—”

Slight doesn’t even come close to the fingers sliding into you, spearing your sensitive walls open and pressing into a spot where you’ve never been able to reach with startling precision. You remind yourself that he has to do this, that he’s just being…friendly, or whatever makes the lines less blurred. 

None of this stops the fact your lower stomach burns with the promise of another orgasm when his fingers brush against the egg vibrator before accidentally pressing it deeper inside.

“Ah, there it is.”

At the sight of your scrunched nose, he asks if it hurts. You shake your head; eyes squeezed shut in an attempt to hold back the stinging pleasure racing up your spine. “N-no,” you whimper.

“Relax, okay?”

Simon doesn’t comment on how you’re implying that it feels good. So good, you think, his thumb just barely touching your clit as he twists his hand to try a different angle. Then he pushes down on your belly again, and his long fingers finally grip the vibrator.

“Oh!” you moan at the feel of it dragging down your front wall, your fingers gripping the sheets. 

He has to tell you to relax again, his voice cracking, but you hardly hear it over your heart beating loudly in your ears. His fingers drag the toy out slowly, almost too slow that you can feel it bumping against every slippery ridge inside you.

“Ah, sorry,” he says when you twitch—unapologetic—using his thumb to rub soothing circles into your stomach. “You’re so wet. I need to make sure I don’t lose it again.”

You nod, cunt clenching down at his words.

And then Simon’s fingers curl up: your thighs start quivering, breath caught in your throat, and your jaw locks up until your orgasm ripples through you. It’s unending, the strongest one yet, and just when you think it’s over, you feel the press of his palm against your clit.

“W-wait! Simon,” you moan, pushing at his hand. “No more, I‘m sensitive!”

He gets you to fall over the edge one more time before finally slipping the vibrator out of you, letting it hum softly on the bed, and your exhausted body sinks into the mattress once again. Simon gathers you into his lap, rocking you back and forth.

You swallow lungfuls of air against his chest, head still spinning and walls spasming from the aftershocks. 

He murmurs in your ear about how good you are, kisses your temple, and rubs your sides, and it’s… enlightening. Moments pass before you finally return to yourself, and when he pulls back, his brows furrow at your pout.

“All good?”

You shake your head and go with honesty. “I didn’t think you’d cuddle me afterward.”

He smiles, thumb flicking your bottom lip. “You wanted me to fuck you?” 

Your mouth falls open. “N-no—”

Then he leans down, lips brushing against your ear: “Don’t worry, love. Good girls get fucked hard.”

[simonzmama]

simon who’s never been complimented in his lifeeee…

his back presses against the cushions of the couch, fingers curling around the dip of your waist as his arm presses you further against his side. your knee sits hiked up on his lap, head rolled against his shoulder as your lips hover at his ear.

simon’s shirt rides up, a hot show of his chiseled up v-line on complete display for you, the soft blonde trail lining under his bellybutton n disappearing under his joggers your hand digs into. the points of his hip bones twitch, abs visible under the thin worn t-shirt he lounges back in.

“you look so pretty,” you murmur out in a sweet hush of a breathe, fingers wrapping around the length of his cock as you press a kiss under his ear. you work his pants down ever-so-slightly, pulling his cock free from its strain under his boxers.

simon’s cheeks flush, eyes flickering from your face to your hand that strokes his cock in slow motions, working his heart n nerves up to an almost breaking point.

simon breathes out lowly, free hand gliding up from your ankle to hold at your calf, so desperate to have his hands up all over you.

“you gettin’ shy ‘cause i think you’re handsome?” you giggle, fist tightening around him till pretty beads of precum glide down the edge of his cock.

“not shy,” simon laughs out in a rush of a breath, head tipping back slightly as his jaw clenches n he sucks in a deep breath. “you’re just full of it today.”

your head tilts, a sly smile stretching across your lips in something of disbelief. this scarred, troubled man is stupid to even believe you’d lie, to think he isn’t a creation of god that makes you absolutely lose it. youd catch yourself gazing at this man as if there wasn’t a diamond strapped around your finger, as if he wasn’t yours.

“you think i’m lyin’? is that it, huh?” you hum against his skin, fingers brushing over the tip of his angry cock.

simon’s reply tumbles back down the chamber of his throat, stuck in his voicebox n instead hes coughing up a gasp. his chest raises, shoulders digging against the back couch cushion as his back arches softly, thighs spreading further as his balls draw up in feeling that encapsulates his whole being.

“answer me, simon,” it’s a demand, one that hits his ear n fills him with despair as your pace slows. his patience ticks, he’d never want to call you liar but with the way you completely sucked him clear of an orgasm it’s bout ready to spill off his bruised, kiss-bitten lips.

“y-you’re lying,” he huffs, rasp hidden under the high-pitch of his pretty whine. his nails dig into your soft skin desperately urging you to continue, to just make him fucking cum.

“mmm, really?” you tsk, lip twitching against his warming skin. “if i’m such a liar, maybe you don’t deserve this like i promised. should i stop?”

ion even know anymore y’all 🙏

[stargirlstabber]

imagine looking for your husband and walking through the house for 5 minutes straight without finding a trace of him. not in the bedroom, not in the bathroom, not on the couch, he's not even in the kitchen or in the garden. opening the door full of stickers to your little girl's room, you see her at the small pink table with an even smaller tea set. once you fully open the door, you see him. simon riley. playing tea time with your daughter. you can't help yourself but chuckle when you take in how he looks. colorful ribbons in his hair, a small tutu stretching around his waist and a pink cup filled with imaginary tea in his large hand. -and is that nail polish on his fingers?

'part 2'