Summary: You thought he wanted a tattoo; turns out he wants more.
Pushing on your lower back, a soft grunt left you as something popped but it felt good. You had spent too long hunched over, the muscles aching as they were constantly pulled at angles they didn't like. But your day was essentially over so you could run a bath and soak away the pain. Or did you want to attempt making something to eat first because you knew you were likely to pass out after your bath.
Your lips twitched. What hard choices you faced. First you had to finish cleaning up. Moving over to your work table, you carefully put all of the used needles on a tray. They were all destined for the forge to destroy. You didn't know if others remade needles with old metal but you weren't one. You also knew that most considered your methods odd, especially not using the thick leather gloves the others were fond of and caused their designs to be sloppy, their lines always thick. Between the thin needles and the precision your bare hands gave you, your clients were always happy and always came back. Most had been inherited from your father who had tattooed countless dwarves, from common miners to the crown prince Thráin.
Before he had gone to Mahal's halls, he had taught you all of his tricks and secrets. You knew how to mix ink that took better to the skin, was darker and faded slower. You knew how to make the best needles from fine spun steel that never broke in your hands and pierced the skin perfectly. You knew how to work fast and efficiently, making sure your customers were never here for longer than they needed to be.
Tucking ink bottles into their cabinet, you let your forehead rest on the doors for a moment. You were tired. You loved your job, but you felt exhausted. Maybe you needed time to yourself. Maybe close the shop for a few days so you could think about what you needed to change and-
The door opened behind you.
Spine stiffening, your hand slid down to one of the daggers strapped to your thigh. Spinning sharply, you drew and threw before you got a look at who it was. You instantly regretted it as you recognized the dwarf in the doorway.
A bracer knocked your knife off course, sending it crashing to the floor. He didn't look upset or surprised by the attack and it sent your temper sparking.
"How many times do I have to tell you, Dwalin, son of Fundin," you snapped, "that you bloody well knock on my damn door?!"
"At least once more, Firestorm," he said casually. "Your aim is getting better."
You tried not to growl. It didn't matter how many times you saw him, you would never understand him. One of these days he wasn't going to block the knife and get a face full of sharpness. You weren't sure if you'd even feel bad about it.
He stooped down to pick up your weapon. "Still a little slow on the draw though."
Stomping over to him, you jerked the blade away from him. "I never asked for your opinion," you muttered, shoving it back in its sheath. "And do you want me to actually hit you?"
"They're good blades," he remarked, ignoring you completely. "You should have a care with them."
"Did you come here to scare and criticize?" you asked, already tired and his pushing not helping.
He lifted his brows. "You're crankier than last time, Firestorm. Something happen?"
You made a face. He never used your name even though you had known him since you were both children and his father had come to yours for a tattoo. You couldn't remember what you had said to him, but it had brought about the nickname that he always used. "No."
"You sure?"
Pausing when you heard actual concern in his voice, you made yourself smile for him. It wasn't his fault that you felt this way, even if he was making it worse. "I'm just tired and you startled me," you said honestly.
He studied you for a moment, no doubt trying to figure out if you were lying to him. "You're doing too much," he said finally. "You should take a break."
A soft laugh left you. "I was thinking the same," you agreed, but what you could do to fill that empty time with was beyond you. You couldn't even remember the last time you had taken anything like this for yourself and you weren't sure you'd be able to do it. You didn't like being idle but that was exactly what you were supposed to do on a break.
"I'll leave you to it then."
"What?" you said in surprise when he headed toward the door.
"You need your rest. I will come back when you reopen."
Staring at him, it took you a second to react. You had to run to catch him at the door and your hand slammed into it to close it harshly. "No," you said sharply, "you came for a reason and it wasn't to scare me. You never visit me without a reason. What was it?"
"Why do I ever come here?"
You gave him a look. "Don't sass me. Your tattoos tell stories and you always get them done when those stories are fresh. I'm tired, but my door is always open to you and your tales." And you weren't going to think about the fact that that was the only time you ever saw him.
"If I knock."
"Which you never do," you said dryly. "Sit down and tell me a story."
Blue eyes studied you for a long moment. "Are you sure?" he asked quietly. "I'm not going to be blamed if this pushes you over."
"Yes," you said firmly. No matter how much he irritated you, you weren't going to turn him away.
He pulled a piece of parchment from his pocket and held it out to you. When you took it, he moved to the high backed chair customers sometimes used and waited for you.
You could feel his eyes on you, waiting to see your reaction to whatever was on the page. Unfolding it, you stared at the design that greeted you. Your gaze jerked to his, disbelief on your face. "This is-" you squeaked.
"Aye," he said, unable to hide the pride in his voice.
You swallowed hard and looked back at it. The lines were straight and strong, depicting the symbol of the Line of Durin. He was entitled to it as a descendant of that legendary dwarf, but it was the other one interwoven with it that had startled you. "Warmaster?"
"Aye, happened earlier today."
This was the first you'd heard of it. Granted you didn't listen to gossip much, but this was something that you should have heard! You knew Dwalin wasn't one to boast but this was something to be extremely proud of! And he had come to you to get this story put on him.
Locking the door, you hurried over to your cabinets, excitement thrumming through you. "Why hasn't it been announced?" you asked, gathering your tools. All of your fatigue from earlier felt like it was gone in the face of this work.
"It will be tomorrow. I wanted this first."
Your heart gave a thump. So you knew this news before only a select few? Only his family and the warmaster council would have been told about this. And you had greeted him with a knife and temper. You nearly banged your head against the cabinet door. You knew why he came to see you, you always knew why he came here. If he would just knock instead of insisting on scaring you this embarrassment wouldn't happen!
Putting ink and fresh needles on a tray, you pushed a small table closer to the chair with your foot. "This is traditionally over the heart, right?"
"Aye. Have you ever done it before?"
"You're my first." Oh, shit, that sounded wrong! "I mean, warmasters aren't chosen every day."
"Almost been a century since the last," he admitted and you could hear that contained pride in his voice again.
You shook your head and said, "Take off your shirt, I just need to grab cloths."
Hearing him shift, you slipped into the storage room and scooped up a pile of linens. You knew you could do this tattoo, it was just a grouping of lines, but you'd never done one so important before. Your hands were shaking and the steadiness of them was key to doing this right. What if-You stopped the thought before it could even fully form. No, you could and would do this.
You walked back into the room and had to swallow your heart as you saw him sitting in the chair. This was the first time he'd gotten a tattoo that required clothing to be removed. You'd seen him a few times at the training grounds without his shirt on, but this was the first time it had happened up close. He definitely had the physique to be a warmaster even though you knew that that wasn't the only thing that made a dwarf worthy of that title.
"Something wrong, Firestorm?"
His voice snapped you out of your stupor. "Of course not," you said, walking to him.
He lifted a brow but said nothing as you lined up your tools on the table. When you pulled out your knife, he growled, "That isn't what that's for."
"Well, it's mine so I will use it however I want. Now hold still or I will cut you," you warned.
He grunted as you put one hand on his chest to steady yourself and you felt him tense under your touch. But he stayed still as you lightly ran the edge of the blade over him. "Should do all of it instead of that little patch," he grumbled.
You gave him a look. "I am not shaving your chest," you said flatly. "Besides, there isn't much to-" You stopped when he growled at you. Hair was a touchy subject with him. You refrained from looking at his hair, knowing the sides of the mohawk were starting to recede slightly.
Wiping his pectoral with a cloth, you realised you had a problem. You had done chest tattoos before but this was different. This required biting precision and the usual way of doing this kind of tattoo wasn't going to let you do that.
"What's wrong?" he asked as you straightened with a frown.
"I'm thinking."
"You don't usually frown when you think."
You almost frowned more at that. How would he know? "We're going to do this differently," you told him, tugging the table closer.
"What do you-" He hissed when you straddled his lap. "What are you doing?!"
"Tattooing you." Damn it, this wasn't a good idea! But you didn't want to haul out the table for him to lie on and you weren't going to hunch forward to do this.
"Like this?" he demanded.
"Dwalin, grow up. It's fine." This wasn't fine at all. Sitting in his lap was the dumbest idea you'd ever had! But you were committed to it and-You shivered when his hands gripped your hips. "Dwalin?"
"Just do it," he bit out.
You nodded and picked up a needle. Placing your hand on his chest again, you swallowed hard as you felt how hot his skin was. No. You couldn't do this. There was no way you could focus sitting like this.
A startled noise left you when his hands tightened on you as you made to get off of him. "Where are you going?" he demanded lowly.
"This isn't going to work. I'll get the table and-" You stopped when he tugged you closer to him. "D-Dwalin?"
"You're not going anywhere."
Staring at him in confusion, your eyes flew open wide when you realised he was hot and hard between your thighs. "Oh!"
He groaned as you shifted, his hands squeezing you. "Sit still," he snapped. "Unless you're going to do something about it, for the love of Mahal, be still!"
You froze but a part of you, a rather large part if you were honest, wanted to move. You wanted to rock and squirm and rub until he had had enough. It would be what he deserved for everything he had put you through.
His low growl shivered up your spine and your stomach clenched in response. "Don't push me, Firestorm."
You couldn't resist. "Or what?"
His gaze darkened and his hands moved to your ass. Shivering as he squeezed, you yelped when he stood effortlessly with you pressed against him. You barely had time to cling to him before he was spreading you out on a work table.
Trembles coursed through you when he leaned over you and you watched him, wariness and desire warring inside you.
"Or I'll show you what I want to use those knives for," he rumbled.
Surprise filled you and you squeaked when you heard him unsheathe one of the blades. "What-" You broke off with a gasp when he slid the blade under your shirt and cut through the material. You nearly gaped at him when his lips curled into a smile. "That's not what they're meant for!"
"So you say, but since I made them, I know what they're meant for."
Your breath caught. He had made them? You had thought it had been a customer's way of saying thank you, but there'd been no indication that he had been that customer. You shivered as he parted your shirt and bit down on your lip when he growled at the sight of your breasts.
He wasted no time, leaning down to capture one pebbled nipple between his lips. Crying out as he sucked, your back arched as pleasure filled you.
Giving in, you reached up to run your fingers over his mohawk. His growl made you shiver but you didn't stop, hands moving down to fist in his hair. You tugged him closer, wanting to feel more of him against you. His skin was nearly scalding against yours and you could feel all of his hard muscles pressing into you. This was what you wanted, had wanted for longer than you cared to think about.
Your hands slid down his back, nails scraping over him as you went. That elicited a deep groan from him and his hips rocked against you. The motion made your muscles tense and liquid heat flooded you.
"Do you know how long I've waited for this?" he growled, his voice rough. "Do you know how long I've had to watch while you flirted and teased the other but never me?"
You cried out when he nipped at you, teeth closing on sensitive flesh. You weren't going to apologize when you hadn't known! You weren't! "I'm sorry!" you gasped when he bit you again.
"Even when you wore my gift you still ignored me!"
You nearly screamed when he shifted between your legs, rubbing firmly against you. You felt a blade whisper against your skin and shivered as cool air kissed heated flesh. Had he…just cut your pants off? When his hands moved over your thighs you had your answer.
His fingers hooked under your knees and you were startled when he pulled away from you. You started to push yourself up, but you couldn't as he hoisted your legs up. "Dwalin, what-" Your breath left you on a breathless squeal when he leaned forward to lick you.
Your hands gripped the edge of the table tightly as he sucked on you. Fingers curling into the wood, you panted for air as his lips moved over you, leaving no part of you untouched. You were sure you were moaning his name, but coherent thought was fleeing you quickly.
A low growl left Dwalin as his tongue slid through slick folds and flicked over your clit. His grip on your legs tightened when you arched up, nearly dislodging him. Pleasure hummed through you as he kept licking and sucking, little shocks pulsing under your skin with each touch.
You felt his thumbs rubbing against the back of your thighs, his skin deliciously rough on you. He had the hands of a warrior, of a dwarven warmaster, and the strength in them made you tremble. Not because he was hurting you; no, his touch was almost gentle and completely different than you'd expected.
You growled a protest when his mouth left you and he straightened. You lifted your head to meet his gaze and you wished you hadn't. There was nothing but raw heat and primal lust in his eyes. You bit your lip as his hands trailed down your legs, letting them rest on his chest as his fingers replaced his mouth.
He watched as you twisted and clawed at the table as he pumped his fingers inside you. The thick digits made you burn and his name left you in a gasp when he curled them to strike that sensitive spot inside you. It became a broken moan as he worked against it, making your legs shake and your sanity crack.
Head tipping back, you squeezed your eyes shut as pleasure slammed into you. If he kept that up, you were going to orgasm. You tried to tell him but no words would come. Only moans and gasps and each one spurred him on.
A startled whimper left you when his thumb found your clit. Sparks burned under your skin and your muscles tightened. It didn't take much more before you cried out as everything shattered. You would have bucked off the table if he hadn't grabbed your legs and held you tight against him.
Your body was barely processing anything except pleasure but you felt his hand slide away. Before you could even think to miss him, he was thrusting hard into you.
Arching as he filled you, your moan blended with his deep hiss as you spasmed around him. He stayed still, holding your legs against him while your body screamed for him to do more. You tried to move but he had you caught. You had no leverage and had to wait for him. It didn't stop small pleading noises from escaping you, trying to encourage him on.
Dwalin shuddered, his hands flexing on you. His hips rocked and a purr left you. You tried to shift against him, your own hips wriggling.
"Mahal, be still!" he groaned.
"Then move!" you managed to pant.
He was thrusting into you, the stroke long and deep, but they weren't the motions of a warmaster. They weren't anything like you'd expected him to be like. They weren't what you wanted right now.
"Do it," you moaned, feeling like you were losing your mind.
You almost thought he hesitated, like he knew what you wanted but wasn't sure that you actually wanted it.
But you did. There was too much longing, too much pent up desire inside you and this wasn't going to let it out. "Dwalin, do it!" you cried.
The noise that left him came from deep within his chest. You heard his hands smack against the table top before he leaned over you. Your legs were trapped between your bodies even as his hips began working him hard inside you. There was nothing gentle about him now. This was the dwarf who was now a warmaster and he was taking what was his.
Your hands left the table to cling to him as he claimed you. He was moving deep within, filling you completely. It nearly had you screaming in pleasure. His harsh pants for air were striking your skin and making you burn. Everything in you was winding together tightly for another release, wanting to feel that ecstasy again. And bring him with you.
Nails digging into the muscles of his back, you felt him shudder at the touch. He shifted enough to press his mouth to yours, hungrily kissing you. It also lifted your hips a little more off the table, letting him slide deeper inside you. His tongue mimicked his thrusts, teasing you further and making you want to burst. The pleasure he was giving you was making you feel like the firestorm he called you, all heat and lust burning under your skin.
Your head thumped back against the table as your body pushed into his as much as you could. Your muscles tensed, squeezing around him before you broke. Screaming his name, you lost control and were almost glad he had you pinned. You writhed under him, pleasure cascading through you and amplifying as he kept thrusting. Your nails bit into him again as you clung to him, digging in as you tried to find some anchor in your lust.
You felt him jerk before he was slamming hard into you, his hips grinding firmly. The low moan of pleasure that left him nearly set you off again. He stayed braced above you, but you could feel his arms trembling after his release.
You weren't surprised when he pulled away from you and lowered your legs so they were on either side of him. He did startle you when he caught your hands and tugged you up so you were sitting on the edge of the table.
Looping shaking arms around his neck, you hoped he was going to catch you because it felt like you were going to tumble back down. You purred softly when he kissed you, the caress passionate enough to have your toes curling.
He stopped well before you wanted him to and let his forehead rest on yours. "I should go and let you rest."
No, he shouldn't. You didn't want him going anywhere. "No," you said weakly.
"I'll come back tomorrow morning and we can do the tattoo."
Realising he was serious, you found the strength to wrap your legs around him. You pulled him back inside you and gave him a look when he stared at you. "Or you can stay and I'll do it tomorrow," you countered.
Dwalin eyed you for a moment before his hands slid under you and lifted you from the table. "You aren't going to get any rest," he warned.
All you could do was wriggle in anticipation.
A/N: So my internet provider sucks. Let's leave it at that for why the update is so late. Well that and moving completely drained me of all will to write. So writing a character I don't often work with was…hard to say the least. Hopefully the next will be easier, but thank you to all of you for being so patient and sticking around. And special thanks to kilisdwarfprincess for fleshing out the prompt when I ran head first into a wall! You saved me!