piercer!cm punk who unintentionally talks you through your appointments. “breathe” he’ll say before the needle shoots through your skin. your body wincing.
your industrial was a bitch of a process but his raspy voice made it ok. maybe even better than ok. “need you to actually take care of this one”, breath warm. slipping over your ear gentle. “so youre not back and forth, havin to see my little old face all the time”. his teeth and the tip of his tongue playing with the labret on his lip. and you swore he was doing it on purpose. to make you squirm. the piercing in his lip shining as he gives you a little smile.
“its a nice face to look” you say. too busy checking your ear out in a handle held mirror.
he snorts. “yea right”, swatting your leg playful like. and you want to melt. his hands warm. fingers long. strong feeling. they must do other things, besides pierce needles.
you’re wincing again when its time for your labret. something you decide to get because you “like how his looks”. and he cant help but to think about how good it’d look on you. hooked over such a cute bottom lip. possibly tasting like metal and whatever lip balm you spread over it.
your lip twitches just before he can apply the antiseptic. his eyes rolling a little. for someone so afraid of the pain, youre constantly putting yourself through it. he may have a little masochist on his hands “relax”, he gives. deep and soothing. the tip of his hand patting your knee. because youre both comfortable enough for that to happen. this isnt your first piercing. youre a regular of sorts. a bothersome regular with poor pain intolerance and a bad habit of letting your piercings close.
he did your ears months ago, and before that a few months prior too. re-pierced your nose multiple times as well as your eye brow. he didnt mind it though. not if it meant seeing you.
he liked your little squirming and the fidget of your impatience. he liked regulating it. getting you to relax for him.
it’s pain when the needle goes through your lip. a whimper escaping that makes him hum. something short and acknowledging of your pain. his hair slicked back and his gaze rolling over the fleshy way of your lip. he cant even help it really. whether hes caught or not. youre just something worth grabbing his attention. something worth a double take. a second or third thought even. temptation.
and he does this thing after he puts the ring through your lip. “atta girl”, a pat-rub combination against your leg. just above your knee, where an intricate tattoo design colors your skin.
you like the way praise slips off his tongue. a little too much.
