Back from the dead, unlike the Lord Father :( :( :( I'm about to be notorious for this, but here I am again finishing a fic after a two-year break. Time has made me confident that I'm actually doing the ending right. Enjoy!
The urge to go out there and claim her now, to throw this willowy girl of an Elf over his shoulder and bring her to his bed was like a living thing he could feel in the back of his throat and in the grasping palms of his hands.
This thing inside him reminded him of the eager attention she had lavished upon his cock, suggested the pleasure that he might feel if he did not insist on being so careful with her next time. Wouldn’t he like to make that she-Elf choke on it, revel in the tears that would leak from her eyes?
Adar let out a breath, long and slow and barely vocalized in a low groan as he struggled to maintain control.
Adar x Unnamed Male Character (Acceptance/Freedom)
CW: MINORS DNI, 18+ ONLY, he/him pronouns, gay relationship, acceptance of same sex romance, mentions of kissing and sexual contact (no descriptive scenes), mentions of battle, violence and death.
meldonya - my friend (but the Quenya dictionary seems to hold the endearment with an affectionate tone as well)
melmenya - my love (Quenya)
(Set around the battle of Eregion, but nothing bad happens to Adar because I shan't accept show canon there.)
"We deserve to experience love fully, equally, without shame and without compromise.” — Elliot Page
For the longest time, Adar had been 'Father' and nothing else. He loved his children, though the word 'love' didn't feel enough to describe the depth of his adoration for his children.
He had put all his focus to them. To giving them a better life, to making them feel safe.
Nothing pleased him more than to see his children thrive. And most of all, to see others accept them as they were.
He was a warrior. He had pledged himself to Lord Adar and his Uruk on the creation of Mordor. Adar had seen it in him immediately. A desire for something better, for everyone.
Adar hadn’t asked him where he had come from, who he had fought for before. What mattered was that he was ready to offer his blade now for the Uruk and Mordor. A blade Adar was more than willing to accept.
And over the months he served his new lord, the warrior proved himself time and time again. Defending the Uruk, offering his skill with a myriad of weapons to train the Uruk to fight even better than they already did.
Adar would watch with fascination. Watch how his children would take everything he said and hold it. Practice it the next time they found themselves in battle.
Never before had he seen his children take to another so quickly.
Mordor was buzzing with activity. The location of Sauron had been found and Adar’s army was preparing to move out. His warrior had been trusted with half of the forces and Adar prepared to take the rest.
For just a moment, they had time to talk. Adar entered his tent, his warrior standing immediately in the presence of his lord.
“My Lord…” he began, but Adar simply held up a hand to stop him.
“None of that, we are to go to war, no titles needed.” Adar spoke softly as he walked over.
Adar sat at his dinner table, the warrior remained standing as though debating whether it was appropriate to act casually around his lord. But a single gesture from Adar made that decision for him. A hand waved towards the other chair nearby.
“Of course my-” but he stopped himself, causing Adar to smile just a little.
He sat and silence fell over for them for a moment. A comfortable silence, one neither of them seemed interested in breaking. The sounds of the camp could be heard around them. The shouts of Uruk preparing for battle, the clash of metal as weapons were forged.
“I wanted to come see you, this time, as friends and not Lord and warrior,” Adar explained, his voice keeping its low timbre.
His warrior nodded. It wasn’t often he was alone with Adar. But when he was, Adar held him a different regard than the others he’d seen. Far different from his Uruk but also in a different way from the others who had pledged themselves to his cause.
But today seemed different yet again. As though something concerned Adar. And before he could stop himself, before he could wonder if he had crossed a line, the warrior asked his question.
“Does something trouble you, Adar?”
Adar hesitated for what felt like an eternity at that question. Over the past months, he had grown to admire his warrior. He had found himself watching him more and more. Watching closer at how he moved when he fought, when he sparred with the Uruk. For a man so large, he seemed to move like smoke on water. Far faster than Adar had even considered a mortal could move.
But it wasn’t his skill that troubled Adar, he knew his warrior was more than capable of holding himself on a battlefield. What he had found himself worrying about was whether he would survive the battle. Whether he would be returning to Mordor with his most cherished sword at his side.
Eventually, he answered, “Do not think of this as a criticism of your skill, meldonya,”
Adar took a breath, leaning forward and taking his warrior’s hand gently in his.
“But I want you to promise me you will take no risks in our upcoming battle.”
There was an undertone to Adar’s voice that had his warrior gripping his hand in return. It wasn’t something he’d heard directed at his children, and certainly not at the other sworn followers. There was something heavier behind it. Concern, yes, but something deeper too.
“I swore myself to fight for you and your children, Adar, whatever I do will be in service to you and them.”
Those words lingered in Adar’s mind as they returned to Mordor. So many of his children were wounded or killed. And Sauron was still out of his grasp, scurrying from Eregion like that rat Adar knew he was.
When they reached Mordor, he set about checking on everyone he could. But his eyes seemed to continuously search for his warrior. His children were with their healers, the dead were being prepared for their burial rites. But he had not seen his warrior among any of them.
He could see his own hut in the distance, and the makeshift door was surprisingly wide open. His heart seemed to jump when he saw the familiar silhouette inside.
His warrior.
Adar made his way quickly, no words spoken as he crossed the threshold and immediately closed the distance between them.
“My lord…” his warrior breathed and for the first time, Adar could see fear in his eyes.
A fear that turned to relief as he realised Adar was in front of him. A look Adar imagined his own eyes held in return. His warrior’s arms rose, grasping on to his forearms as though wanting to check he was real.
“You’re here.”
They uttered the words in tandem, breaking the tension with a shared chuckle. Before this, neither of them had ever considered that anything else lingered between them, but maybe it did. They could both feel the air, heavy with unspoken emotion. All that was needed was one of them to break that particular silence.
His warrior moved first. Slowly, leaving Adar time to retreat. His forehead resting against Adar’s first, for what felt like an eternity before he found the courage to press his lips against Adar’s.
There was barely a moment's hesitation before Adar returned the kiss. His hands coming up to hold his warrior’s face like it was the most precious gift in the world.
It was a kiss that held months of emotion. Care, love, desire, lust. All wrapped into one kiss that only seemed to ramp up with every pass of their lips.
Soon, armour littered Adar’s floor and the two were curled into the furs that covered his bed. Relief to be in each other’s arms was palpable, fanning the flames of desire as they relished in the feel of lips and skin against each other.
Morning broke, the sounds of the camp were quieter than usual.
But the thoughts of battle were far from either of their minds now. Bare skin pressed against bare skin. The scent of last night’s passions still lingering in the air. Each of their bodies bearing the marks of both the battle and their lustful embraces.
For just a moment, neither of them were warriors. Adar wasn’t Lord Father. His warrior wasn’t a sworn sword.
They were simply lovers. Savouring each other’s touch.
Adar’s lips pressed to the crown of his head, feeling the slow breathing of his still sleeping love. Whispering a simple affection into his hair.
This is a very self indulgent smut fic that was inspired by a lot of fun conversations with my fellow Adar sister wives. It's the first part of a bigger collection of stories taking place in the same au.
Uruk OC x reader x Adar
Pure smut that turns out kind of wholesome
Reader pov
Poly themes
Pregnancy & Breeding kink and possessiveness
You have been warned, if you’re not into Uruk smut (outside of Adar), don’t read this
After many months, I have finished my first multi chapter fic Only Blood Can Bind. I very much enjoyed writing this and will continue in a follow-up fic some time in the near future.
Read the last chapter here!
Summary: You were a prize and then some. The High King's sister, one of few whose disappearance should cause him the most anguish. Taking you hadn't been easy, but making you his willing wife was set to be even more of a challenge, it seemed. But maybe you were a little more willing than he anticipated?
This is a present for my dearest @tumblin-theworldaway, hope you enjoy! (And we will get the hang of this timezone bullshit 😂)
TW: She/Her pronouns, afab reader, elven reader, hinted at having similar colouring to (show version) Gil Galad, mentions of kidnapping, mentions of (mostly) forced marriage, hints at dub con (reader not fully embracing her willingness with Adar), female masturbation, mentions of voyeurism (Adar overhears reader), oral (fem receiving), p in v sex, Adar being a tease, innuendo, profanity.
Words: 5750 (I know, but the muse hath taken me)
Holding Gil Galad’s sister captive, the High Princess of the Ñoldor, was a prize and more for Adar and his children. Though bringing you to Mordor had not been an easy task, it was necessary to make the weight of Adar’s power known. To bring attention to the fact that the Uruk were not a threat to be taken lightly and ignored.
Taking you had required planning, the kind of subterfuge that the Uruk were not particularly adept at.
But it had been managed. And now the princess was within the boundaries of Mordor, secured inside the Uruk camp. Though your title was rendered more than useless now.
You were sure word had made it to your brother. Or at least, you hoped it had. Taking you would mean war; you were sure of that.
And yet nothing had come.
The camp stretched for what felt like half of the Southlands. Or should you call it Mordor now? The shadowed lands seemed endless when you were stuck in the middle of them.
You felt alone, despite being surrounded by crowds of Uruk.
Some looked at you in fascination, like you were a new shiny treasure. Some looked at you as if you were a deer, lost in the darkness of a forest. The rest refused to so much as look at you.
Adar, however, never kept you out of his sight. Not that you could escape, but you imagined it wasn’t to prevent such a thing. His children obeyed him, but you could feel an almost protective edge to how he would keep you near.
There was an unspoken edge to how he handled you, as though there was something you were yet to learn.
But that knowledge came soon enough.
“Marry you!?” you almost screeched the words at Adar, forgetting that he was likely the only person keeping you safe and well.
His quarters were quiet. The table set for a dinner neither of you had eaten. But your voice almost echoed against the wooden walls.
He expected to make you his wife? The idea baffled you entirely, but it was like you could no longer form the right words to express yourself.
Adar remained quiet. He had expected a less than positive reaction from you. But he had his reasons for making such a proposition, and for telling you about it first.
“Yes, marriage,” Adar said simply, his fork stabbed into the meat on his plate and abandoned.
“For a good reason, princess, you will be safer within these borders as my wife.”
There were more reasons, of course, but he was of no mind to reveal them to you. Yet.
You leaned back in your chair, a small scoff leaving your lips.
“Safe? You wish me to believe you are concerned for my safety?” you spat the words with a little more aggression than you realised you were capable of.
And it only made Adar smile.
“I told you my plans out of kindness. I was not asking your permission.”
That had been a month ago now. A month that you had been Adar’s wife and the new Lady of Mordor. And he hadn’t been wrong regarding your safety. It had taken time and some less than gentle encouragement from your new husband, but the Uruk had come to regard you with less resentment than before.
Some even looked at you with something that might resemble kindness.
Even Adar seemed to have changed. Not in how he acted when you were around his children, but when you were alone.
Your wedding night had been as expected. Adar made as much effort as he could to make you comfortable, and you had put in as much effort to enjoy it as he had expected.
The wedding had been nothing extravagant; you were not sure if it was even legally binding. Not that it mattered. You were a captive, no matter whether you were called wife or prisoner, nothing would change.
But now, as you sat stock still on Adar’s bed, you felt afraid for the first time. Not of Adar, he had given you no reason to fear him. But of what this night would mean.
Of what it would mean to give away the last thing that was solely yours.
You held the fabric of your gown between your hands, worrying the fabric again and again with your fingers.
And it was this that Adar noticed.
“There is nothing to fear,” he said softly, the low gravel of his voice feeling so loud in the silence of his quarters.
Your fingers slowed their movements, but didn’t stop. Why should you believe him? He was your captor, since you were not yet ready to think the word husband.
Yet, he hadn’t done you any harm up until now. Even if he’d had the opportunity to. Maybe, he was being sincere?
You didn’t say a word as you stood, not trusting the strength of your voice. You focused instead on the way Adar stood still in front of you. How he looked so different without the layers of armour and leather. How the few candles around the room lit him from behind as he watched you back, waiting for you to approach.
The small amount of jewellery you had been wearing when you were taken to Mordor had been shed, along with the outer layer of your gown, just after you entered Adar’s quarters. The thin shift doing little to protect you from both Adar’s gaze and the cool air.
Avoiding it would only last for so long. Trying to delay the inevitable was impossible, you thought.
And the longer you looked at him, the more you had to ignore the faintest spark of desire in your belly. He was a handsome man, once you truly appreciated him.
But if you had looked a little harder, you would have seen the same lust filled look in Adar’s own eyes. Darkening even further the closer you came. His breath caught in his throat when your hands came to rest on his chest.
“I will do my duty as your wife; it is our wedding night.”
That night continued to play in your mind. Even weeks after the fact.
You were a wife now and Adar had not been wrong, the energy had begun to shift towards you. Whether Adar had told his children to treat you with more respect, you didn’t know, but there was certainly a difference.
Those who refused to look at you, now spared you the occasional glance. Those who had looked at you with prey, would sometimes even greet you as you passed them.
But something else had settled into the back of your mind. You had felt it on your wedding night, and all the subsequent nights you had spent in Adar’s bed.
The lingering feelings of desire whenever Adar would touch you. The sounds of pleasure you would bite back because you were afraid of the feelings you had.
He was your captor turned husband. You should despise him.
It was the lack of that which you feared. Did you love him? No. But there was a fire that burned in your belly whenever he touched you, even for the most fleeting of moments.
Whether Adar knew or not, you didn’t dare find out.
War was looming with the rumours of Sauron’s return, and you had soon come to realise that your brother’s focus was going to be elsewhere. And as much as that pained you, you knew Gil Galad knew that you were capable enough to handle yourself wherever you were.
But the lingering threat of darkness had meant Adar was away from Mordor a little more than he had been. He would leave some of his children behind, a silent gift of protection for you.
Though you preferred the comfort of your own quarters. Adar had offered them to you about a week into being his wife. Before that you had been in a small tent, just in sight of his own quarters.
While most of the Uruk banded together and slept in a mixture of tents and wooden shacks, Adar had a large wooden building in the centre of camp. His throne outside it and even a separate room where you would assume he would host guests if he ever had them.
Yours were smaller, but with enough space for it to be clear you were no longer a prisoner. There was a separate bedroom, a small snug with some furs and fire pit for your comfort. And those small things were welcome whenever he would leave.
This time Adar had been gone for a few weeks. The longest he had been gone since your marriage to him and though you chastised yourself for it, you had begun to miss him.
Not necessarily his person, but what him being here meant. Physically.
If Adar was anything to you, he was attentive. Dare you even say, gentle. Like he was afraid if he did anything more, you would run from him in disgust or fear.
But you never did.
And now, you found yourself missing those nights.
You had put that feeling to the back of your mind. Trying to focus yourself on literally anything else. But then you would lay in your bed and your mind would drift there.
And soon your hand would follow. Letting the images that would float in your imagination guide you. It began to happen every night without fail. It was almost like you couldn’t sleep without putting out the fire in your veins.
Picturing how Adar would touch you, the way his hands would feel against your skin. How warm he always seemed to be; how soft his lips were…
No word had come of where Adar was or when he would be returning, but the Uruk that remained in camp had been on edge all day. Just like they had been for the last week.
You were on an edge, though without a doubt it was an entirely different one.
The night soon drew in, a few of the Uruk coming to check on you after you had eaten with them which you more than appreciated.
But then you were alone again, and it wasn’t long before your thoughts began to wander.
You waited until you could no longer hear much noise outside of your door, meaning most of the Uruk had gone to their own beds or were far enough away that you could let your hands wander too.
Images of Adar immediately filled your mind, the rough sound of his voice felt almost real you had imagined it so many times now.
Your shift was bunched in your hand, the other making its path down your body to seek out your core.
The room was always warm, the fire pit constantly stoked at your request. But your skin prickled as your fingers began to dip between your folds. A small sigh leaving your lips as you finally made the contact you had been desperate for all day.
Your movements remained slow. In the weeks he had been gone, you had begun to try and imitate Adar’s touch. He was never in a rush, like he was mapping out every dip and swell of your body and committing to his memory.
But trying to mimic that had taken weeks. Only now did it feel almost right. Your hands were too soft, but it was close enough.
You would try and remember the way he would start, where he would touch first. One hand between your thighs and one hand always mapping the rest of your body.
So that’s what you did. Your fingers made slow circles on your pearl, working the fire in your belly higher and higher. Your other hand pushing your shift higher, not enough to make you bare, not yet.
The sighs turned to soft moans, barely audible, letting the images of Adar flow through your mind.
The muscles of his chest and back when he would hover over you, one hand by your face while the other would continue its path along your body.
How his breath would feel on your neck as he began to press kisses to your skin. The barely there sounds that would leave his throat the more of you he got to feel.
You worked yourself up to a point that you were almost desperate to find release, your hips actively chasing your own hand. The shift almost torn from your body as the room seemed to get warmer and warmer.
Everything around you faded as you began to focus on the desire that thrummed in your veins, surrendering yourself to it. Your fingers finally slipping between your folds and trying to remember the rhythms Adar would strum.
It was so dark when Adar returned. Most of the Uruk were already fast asleep, or at least away in their tents. He assumed you would be too, and his feet began making their way to your quarters before he could stop them.
His hand was on the door when soft sounds floated through the small cracks in the wood. Sounds that couldn’t be mistaken for anything but pleasure.
Far louder than he was sure he had ever heard you be. Far louder than you had ever been with him.
He waited, as quiet as he could. Just to hear a little more. The cracks in the door wide enough to sneak the smallest of peeks at you. He could see you bare, spread out on the furs of your bed. One had between your thighs, the other gripping the plump flesh of your breast in the same rhythm as your fingers.
Adar was sure he could smell your arousal from here.
He was completely entranced, lost in the way your body writhed on the bed. How your voice seemed to be going up octave after octave as your peak crept up on you. And then, something he never thought he would hear from you, especially like this.
His name.
“Adar…” you breathed out, and your husband could only watch as the muscles of your thighs twitched, hips canting up against your hand until you finally stilled.
You had said his name. His name. Bare, glistening with sweat as your peak had crashed over you, you had said his name.
Adar ignored the way his length twitched in his breeches at the thought. He could wait. But he wasn’t going to forget just how pretty you sounded.
He only wondered if he could make you louder.
You awoke that morning to hear the Uruk calling Adar’s name, nothing but happiness in their voices.
He was home.
You forgot yourself for just a moment in your excitement at having him back. It surprised you. You were at the threshold of your door when it hit you. Taking a deep breath before stepping outside.
Adar was at his throne, his children that had remained behind clamouring around him. But his eyes found you immediately. If you hadn’t been concentrating on maintaining your usual, passive mask, you would have noticed how he looked at you.
Like he wanted to devour you where you stood.
“Husband,” you said gently, the crowd of Uruk parting as you walked towards his throne.
Adar stood immediately, but he didn’t move towards. But a smile did twitch at his lips.
“Wife,” he answered, finally descending the few steps of his throne to meet you.
You saw a flash of something behind his eyes, but you chalked it up to your imagination. He had been gone for a while, maybe you simply missed him. But when he held his hand out to you, your skin meeting his for the first time in weeks, you could feel that same feeling stirring deep in your body.
Desire. Everything you had tried to tamper down, to hide, threatened to spill from you after one touch.
Adar could only smile as he saw the way you swallowed, how your eyes remained trained on his hand.
“Are you well?” he asked quietly, daring to stroke a soft circle on the back of your hand with his thumb.
He needed to see. Was your desire for him reserved for when you were alone, or could he push you enough to let it slip through the cracks?
The rest of the day passed no differently to how it usually did. Adar checking up on the children he had left behind while he was away and you spending your time doing anything you enjoyed. Walking around the camp was a new pastime, giving you a break from the walls of your quarters.
What you didn’t know, was that Adar watched you almost the entire time. Keeping his eyes on you whenever and however he could. He was the most distracted he had ever been since he married you, willing night to fall so he could end his duties and summon you to his bed.
He knew it would raise suspicions with you if he changed his routine and took you to his bed early. It was an unintentional routine, but something you had welcomed.
What he didn’t know, was you were wishing he would do just that. You could go to him yourself but, outside of your own bed, you were warring with your desire for him and your need to keep it hidden away.
Dinners had been eaten, and Mordor had darkened as whatever sun filtered in finally dipped below the horizon. You were in your quarters, savouring the bath that you had treated yourself to, when you could hear a soft rapping on the makeshift door.
You recognised the footsteps almost immediately.
On instinct, you moved to cover yourself. Leaning against the side of the tub – or what was essentially a patchworked together replica of such a thing, at the insistence of Adar for your comfort. It felt ridiculous to hide yourself from your husband, but it was as though there were two paths urging you in your mind.
Resist or surrender.
“Forgive the intrusion,” Adar said softly, stopping a few paces from you.
You couldn’t stop your smile. You were not sure when it had happened, but you had found yourself relaxing around him in the simplest of ways. Which made how you felt deep down all the harder to reconcile.
“No intrusion, you are my husband.”
Adar only grumbled out a sound of approval. He realised; however, he hadn’t truly thought much past entering your quarters.
“But the fact you are here is an unusual occurrence. Is everything well?”
Your evenings were usually spent in Adar’s chambers and subsequently his bed. To have him in yours surprised you. The look he gave you, only served to confuse you more.
“Nothing is amiss, I assure you,” Adar hadn’t moved from where he stood, but his eyes were travelling over your form.
You simply hummed, realising you were not going to get a straight answer from him.
The bath water had begun to cool, and you leaned over the side to grab the wide sheet of linen to dry yourself. As smoothly as you could, you held it high to wrap it around yourself as quickly as possible.
What you did not expect was for Adar’s hands to grasp its edge and hold it for you. Just high enough to cover your body, but his proximity had you freezing for just a moment.
“Thank you, Adar.”
You missed the darkening of his eyes as you said his name, stepping from the tub and letting him hand you the linen.
His hands momentarily touched your back as you turned to wrap it around you, and you tried to hide the shiver that ran through you. Images from the nights spent alone flashing in your mind at just one touch.
The silence in the room was almost deafening. It was almost as though both of you had something to say, but neither knew the other did.
You began to move away to dress, unsure what else to do, when Adar seemed to come back to himself and stop you.
His hands returned to your shoulders, stopping you in your tracks. You couldn’t see his smirk as your body stiffened and then relaxed immediately at his touch. Your eyes fluttering closed as his hands tightened on your shoulders.
“I thought of you, whilst I was away,” he said simply, his hands trailing down your arms.
It wasn’t unusual for him to admit things like that, but there was something behind his words that felt different. Adar leaned in, whispering into your ear.
“Did you think of me?”
The growl behind his voice seemed more intense this close, the fire rising gently in your belly.
You wanted to answer, admit that you had thought of him on so many occasions. But it was like your words stuck in your throat.
A thought crossed your mind, did he know? No, he couldn’t possibly. But there was almost a knowing tone to his voice.
His hands stroked up and down your arms, patiently waiting for whatever answer you would give.
“Does your silence mean you did? I was gone a while, leaving you alone and unattended to…”
Adar smiled as he pressed a kiss to the skin behind your ear. His expression widening as he felt your head fall back just a little.
He could feel you fighting it, still trying to deny what you felt for him. So, he continued, bringing your back flush against his chest. Hands moving from your arms to the wrap of your linen.
Your skin was still warmed from the bath, and you could feel the hard plane of his chest through the dark fabric of his shirt. Adar never wore his armour, including his gauntlet, when you and he were alone.
You pulled your lower lip between your teeth as he began to unwrap your linen, slowly baring your body to the coolness of your quarters. The sheet falling to the ground as his hands took their time roaming your soft flesh.
“Shall I attend to you now, wife?”
Not trusting your words, you nodded, and Adar could feel the temperature of your skin rising. Your head fell fully back on to his shoulder, so close to surrendering to your feelings.
Adar’s hands were in no rush. It was as though he was recommitting every part of you to memory. Maybe, he truly had missed you while he was gone?
It was only when his fingers skimmed low enough to tease at your pearl did you let out a sigh of pleasure. The sound bringing Adar back to his true aim for coming to you tonight.
He let a single finger circle you, tantalisingly slow. Teasing you and himself.
His other hand cupped your breast, kneading the soft mound under his palm. Deep down, he knew it wasn’t quite enough to pull those sounds from the night before out of you. But there was more than enough time for that.
It wasn’t as though he was unaffected, his own arousal pushing insistently against your back.
He was so focused on the feel of you beneath his hands that he almost missed the small whisper that slipped from you. It was only when his hands slowed, did he realise you had asked for something. Your hand wrapped around his wrist. Almost begging for him to move faster.
“Please…”
You were just loud enough for him to hear this time, the breathy sound of your voice sending a shot of desire straight to his already hard length.
That was enough to have him lead you towards your bed. A gentle push had you laying down, and all you could do was watch as Adar made quick work of his tunic.
More of your daydreams flashed before your eyes, realising your imagination had never quite matched up to the real thing. Pale, scarred flesh covered just enough muscle to remind you of the strength he held.
You rested yourself on your elbows. There was just a little something different about Adar tonight. Not that he was never gentle, but he seemed to be working with a purpose in mind more so than usual.
The bed dipped as he joined you, stopping to push your legs open and kneel between them.
“Please what, hmm?” he asked, large hands squeezing your thighs.
There was no doubt he had a purpose. You had seen that look before, but when he was focused on battle strategies, not your pleasure.
You let out a small breath, preparing yourself to give in just a little more to your desire for him.
“I need you, husband.”
Adar let out a soft grunt of approval at those words. Watching as your hand reached out for him.
If there was one thing you hadn’t expected to imagine when you were alone, it was his kisses. They were few and far between, but you realised how much you enjoyed them when you were left with only your mind’s eye.
He let you wait, just a moment longer, before crawling the rest of the way up and hovering his lips over yours. Your hand finally able to curl around the back of his neck. Adar let you pull him down, your kiss a lot hungrier than he expected it to be.
You moaned softly into his mouth, your fingers toying the black strands at the base of his neck.
One of Adar’s hands remained on your thigh, hooking it up and over his waist. Your hand tightened on his neck as you felt his arousal press against your bare core, your hips rolling up on instinct.
“Patience, darling…” he whispered, breaking the kiss for just a moment.
He wanted you to ease into what he knew you felt. There was little hiding your desire for him now. You just needed to let yourself admit it.
Adar returned to the kiss, pulling back some of his control as his tongue slipped into your mouth. Your fingers entirely tangled in his hair as he won the battle of your kiss.
He didn’t stop your body arching against him. Soft skin against his scarred flesh only spurring him on.
His kiss moved from your lips to your neck, letting his hips begin to match your rhythm. You were still holding back, but he could hear how your breath sped up and the subtlest of moans were slipping from your lips.
The path of his lips continued down, between the valley of your breasts and lower. Mapping every inch of you with a kiss.
“What did you imagine while I was gone? How I touch you, how I kiss you…?” he murmured against your skin.
Your hand returned to his hair as he kissed the inside of your thighs. Holding them apart enough to settle his head between them.
He knew, he had to. If you had been less distracted, you would have tried to deny. But you were at the point of desperation. Weeks of only your own hand to bring you satisfaction. If you just gave in…
“All of it,” you sighed, trying in vain to push his head closer to where you wanted him.
But Adar didn’t move. He wasn’t going to let you off quite that easy.
His kisses moved higher, just shy of where you wanted him to be.
Your eyes closed, taking a small breath and answering.
“I...I imagined how your hands feel on me, how your lips feel on me…”
Adar rewarded you with a long, slow swipe of his tongue between your folds. Pulling a slightly louder moan from you.
He wondered if you would admit just a little bit more.
“And?” he asked again, his breath hot against your skin.
He could feel you tense a little in frustration, but he could feel how close you were to giving in.
“I imagined how satisfied you leave me.”
That was more than expected. Admitting your desire was enough, but to admit you found satisfaction with him? That was even better.
You were rewarded again with a more insistent lap to your cunt, his face burying a little further down. Your hand in his hair trying desperately to hold him where he was.
“Then I shall ensure I make up for all the satisfaction I have left you without these past weeks,” he promised, before delving in with full fervour.
There was little gentleness now. Adar almost devoured you with every swipe and circle of his tongue. It appeared you weren’t the only one who had suffered whilst you were apart.
Your nails scratched at his scalp, earning your growls of pleasure against your core. The vibrations combined with the way the tip of his tongue now circled your swollen bud had your eyes rolling back in your head.
Yet you still hadn’t let out any sounds close to what he had heard from you the night before.
Adar lifted your legs onto his shoulders, arms wrapped around your thighs as he doubled down on his ministrations. Suckling your pearl until you let out a soft sigh of his name.
Almost there, he thought. But maybe you needed just a little more encouragement.
He replaced his tongue with his fingers, keeping the same rhythm as he peppered kisses over the skin of your inner thigh.
The way your walls were already clenching around him was a sure sign you were close. But he needed to hear you, good and loud.
“As delicious as ever…but I know you can be louder than that, sweet wife?”
His fingers curled inside you as he moved to hover over you, his lips returning to your neck.
He had heard you. You knew it. Before tonight, you would have been embarrassed, even denied it. But instead, the burning desire inside seemed to roar higher. He wanted you to be loud. There was no denying the hungry sound to his voice now.
“Adar…” you groaned out, his fingers almost beckoning your release closer.
Your husband smiled into your neck, the twitch in his cock reminding him just how good his name sounded on your tongue.
“Again. Say my name again.”
His fingers began to piston in and out of you, the wet sounds of your pleasure mixing in with your growing moans and sighs.
You didn’t hold back anymore. Letting your body relax and pleasure take over.
Over and over again you moaned his name, his lips latched onto your throat as your peak washed over you.
Adar let his hips grind themselves against your thigh as he felt the slick sensation of your release gush over his hand. Something in him told him you could give him just a little more.
Your hands got to his breeches first. Tugging at the laces in your desperate need to remove all the barriers between you. Gone was the fear of revealing your desire to him. You needed him to know how much you wanted him. How much you were sure you had for a long time.
He was quick to kick the rest of his clothing away, caring little for where they landed. All that mattered was having you beneath him.
His cock slid in with ease, the lingering spasms of your release made his eyes close for just a moment. Savouring the sensation. His face burying itself back into your neck, smiling again as your legs wrapped around his waist.
“Do you think you can be louder still? As loud as you were last night?”
Your heels at his back urged him to move. And he did, slowly pushing in and out while he waited for your answer.
But what he got was not what he expected.
“My fingers are nothing compared to you. I think you can make me much louder.”
Now that was a challenge he wished to meet.
Adar planted a hand beside your head. The other holding one of your thighs tight as he began to speed up his rhythm. Your back arched immediately from the bed. Your fingers were nothing compared to any part of him. Reaching far deeper than you ever could.
The bed creaked beneath you as Adar pounded into you, his own grunts and groans of pleasure almost lost in the sweet cries that came from you.
Desire burned through him just at the sound, but the way your cunt was already tightening around him had him at his edge faster than he may ever have been.
“Come for me, let me hear you chant my name…” he almost purred into your ear, his voice strained as he held back his own end as long as he could.
Your hands grasped at his shoulders, committing all the sensations to memory, should you ever be left alone again.
“Adar!”
His name came out as the most delicious cry, your nails digging into his shoulders as your second release crashed over you. Your eyes scrunched closed in pleasure as Adar buried his face into your shoulder. His own end painting your walls as he groaned out your name.
A few shallow thrusts came as he slowed himself down, letting your thighs down to the bed. Softer kisses planted over your neck and chest had a small smile on your lips.
Gently, Adar rolled to your side, both of you ignoring everything except the closeness of the other.
Your head rested on his chest, feeling the race of his heart that you were sure matched yours. The atmosphere in the room felt different than it usually did. Softer, more romantic in the strangest of ways.
Adar’s hand rubbed up and down your back, lips pressing a kiss to the crown of your head. You both remained silent for a while, until you rolled over to look at him.
Up close, you were reminded of more than just your desire. This was your husband, and you had truly never appreciated his beauty. Scars and all.
“I should never have hidden such desire from you, I realise that now,” you admitted, your chin leaning against his chest.
Adar looked at you and just smiled. His arms wrapped around your back, pulling you up high enough for a kiss.
“It matters not, we have all the time to take full advantage of it.”
His words made your stomach flutter. If tonight was just the start, you could only imagine what future nights would bring.
Maybe marrying the father of orcs wouldn’t be so bad after all?
Finally finished the fic from the prompt I did a shout out for last year! (hyuk hyuk I'm so funny)
Anyway I'm pretty stoked about it and the fact I actually wrote something to a level I'm happy to post it.
Prompt from my friend @trickstersintime who is an incredible writer: Adar having reluctant thoughts while alone about Sauron.
And, dear Reader, I took that prompt and warped it like Mairon warped the Moriondor!
It's my first fic on ao3 and my very first smut so I'd love feedback!
Ao3 link
2k words
CW: Masturbation, force feeding, choking
The skies darkened over the ground of his terrifying new world. Behind the smoke and ash the sun had begun to set and Adar left his throne, the sounds of sizzling flesh and pained screams lingering behind him. The stream of Southlanders still flowed. It seemed his children had still more work to do rounding up survivors, but the night was their domain and come morning there would be full cages and new recruits for his judgement. Whether through fealty or the sword, before long he would have rid these ashen lands of any that meant him and his family harm.
As he strode towards his tent Adar noticed a tension in his neck. Tension was something Adar was accustomed to. Since the day he’d earned his name it had coiled in his chest like a spring. Everyday they ran from those that hunted them. He lived each day standing between his children and the dangers Middle Earth held, always vigilant without reprieve. He bore it all for them and for the fate he longed to save them from. But now, for the first time in centuries, they had a land they could make a home. Perhaps this was just the ache of muscles that had finally been able to put down their load.
The fabric of his tent fell shut behind him and the world became silent. Inside it smelled of wood smoke and cordite. Adar took a deep breath and tried to release his shoulders but still the pain persisted. Something more was needed. He undid the laces on his cuirass and shrugged off his chainmail and gamberson leaving himself in only his undershirt and trousers. He felt lighter now at least. Adar reached his gauntleted hand around the back of his neck and dug his spiked fingers into his flesh. As he massaged his tight muscles his mind wandered to the Man that was brought before him earlier that day. The Man that had dared look him in the eye. The Man that had called himself King.
The lives of Men did not matter but this one, this one had intrigued Adar. Filthy, stinking, covered only in rags like the trail of others before him, nonetheless there had been a spark in him that had taken Adar’s attention. Underneath the grime was a creature of fine build, whose eyes had glimmered with something more than the spirit of a maturz. Something long dormant scratched at Adar’s nerves.
This Man wasn’t the first to try and save his own skin with lies and promises. He had claimed the Elves were now sheltering a being of power, someone with secret knowledge of crafting who was helping them create a weapon that would spell doom for Uruk kind. Adar worked small circles into his flesh. As the Man had spoken Adar could feel that coil tighten. He had spoken of a sorcerer, an ancient creature, someone guiding the Elves to create a new power. A power over flesh. He hadn’t said a name but Adar had known, no matter how much he denied the fear in him.
Sauron. The Shadow of Morgoth was never far from Adar’s mind. Everything he did was because of the Great Deceiver. All he wanted was for his children to be safe from him, to be free from him. It informed everything he did. For centuries Adar has worked to ensure no other Uruk would suffer as he had at the hands of such a master, and he would do anything to ensure that. Adar’s breath caught in his throat, an unpleasant prickle washing over his skin and settling in his abdomen. There was no way He could return. No, Adar had felt how deep he had plunged the crown into Sauron’s neck, he watched the ichor pour from the wounds and seen for himself the sacred fire of the Maia flee its earthly form. Adar’s insides squirmed.
In all the ways that mattered, the fallen Maia had informed every step Adar had taken from the day he had drunk from that dreadful cup. That day rose unbidden into his memory. He remembered the weight of the chains around his wrists, he could almost feel the shackle tight around his neck. And within the blink of an eye he was back there. Images and sensation coming one on top of the other. Harsh winds stinging his wounds and roaring in his ears. A face, radiant in the gloom, promising salvation and fulfilment. A dark cup filled with promises. Liquid rich and potent stinging his cracked throat as he chokes it down. Fair fingers stroking his face, a smile lighting a fire in his chest. A rush of warmth to his face. His mind revolted at the assault.
The knot in his neck popped and Adar groaned out loud at the sudden release. His skin stung as he pulled his gauntleted fingers out of the deep welts he’d worked into his flesh. He was back in his tent but that fair face still lingered. Adar shook his head and turned to focus on the map laid out on the table. Perhaps it was folly to think he could kill one of Aulë’s emissaries. The thought of facing him again made his insides clench. If indeed this sorcerer was his old master brought back after so long there was no way he would leave him in Eregion to weave whatever net he willed. He could not leave him alive to endanger his children. But he would not act until he knew for sure. Could he leave this Shara with such an important task? It would be folly to trust him and so Adar would have to break him. Adar’s lips twitched. That Man had shown such rare resolve in the face of him and his children. He had spoken as if he were an equal in their conversation.
“You can’t kill me.” A jolt of bile stung in Adar’s chest at the challenge. He had to fight the urge to crush his face into the dirt then and there, to plunge his knife into the man’s weak flesh again and again and again until his blood mixed with the ash in a vile, dark mud. He hadn’t felt the desire to sully something so beautiful in an age. In his mind’s eye he had seen a flash of red hair and it was all he could do to still his hand.
“In time, you will beg me to.” he had snarled.
Yes. He would enjoy breaking him. Adar groaned and rolled his head. The tightness was gone but the tension was still there. He couldn’t focus on the map in front of him. This King of the Southlands would be nothing more than a brief distraction, the bigger threat was the return of the Shadow. Would he even know him if he saw him again? Would he still hold himself tall and proud? Would he show any signs of the wounds Adar had inflicted on him? Would he be scarred too?
Something stirred deep inside Adar. Something abhorrent. Something exquisite. Before the betrayal, before the defeat there had been devotion and for all the hatred he felt towards Mairon, Adar remembered why he had loved him. There had been no face he had longed to see more than his. Every kind touch he earned was like a blessing. The ghost of those touches fluttered over his skin as Adar lost himself to the memories of an age long gone. Heat rushed to Adar’s face as he felt himself twitch beneath the fabric of his trousers. He clawed his fingers into the table trying to banish the feelings. The spikes on his gauntlet carved ragged grooves into the dark wood but they wouldn’t stop. He grit his teeth trying to replace the softness with the memories of the pain that came after, but he could feel his cock harden beneath his clothing and knew in the back of his mind that he was fighting a losing battle. Without thinking he began to palm himself through the fabric, a growl escaping through gritted teeth. Pleasure was a cruel and unusual sensation. Adar pushed into the friction, hips moving fractionally chasing the rhythm. Slowly he worked his hand up and down and gasped as he rubbed the tip, a damp patch spreading through the fabric.
Adar groaned, a haze filling his mind as the last traces of resistance in him vanished. Face burning in shame, Adar undid the fastenings holding himself in. His hard cock fell forward and he shivered as the cool air teased his skin. Even this part of himself had been changed by the ministrations of Mairon and his master. Pronounced ridges ringed his member, the skin taking a purplish hue when it was straining like this.
Adar gripped his cock at the base and the feeling of skin on skin made him double over the table. His head dropped forward, his hair falling around him like a curtain. Slowly, tentatively, he began to move his hand along his length. He took his time exploring every inch of his cock, reveling in the build and release of pressure as each ridge passed through his fist. The haze in his mind parted and in his mind’s eye he could see the Maia he had called master resplendent in red. Adar’s breath hitched. His old master was a vision, haloed by the gash in the clouds with hair burning like fire. His hand reaching for Adar’s face, fingers brushing his cheek as he brought that cup to his lips. The praise he lavished on him as Adar took it all, called him remarkable, unique, remade in glory.
Adar felt his hand glide over his cock as he spread the precum leaking from his tip. The rough, abrasive movements soothed now. The slick making him twitch with each ridge that squeezed past his tightening grasp. He shuddered each time he closed his fist closed over the swollen tip. His heart beat so fast in his chest and he tried his hardest to swallow each groan that rumbled in his throat.
He could feel those slender fingers combing through his hair, those perfect nails gently scratching his temple as the hand moved to the back of his head. The slow but inevitable closing of that fist in his hair as it held Adar’s head firm and immovable.
He beat himself faster and faster, squeezing harder and harder till he began to feel raw. His thighs twitched, his breath coming shallow and rapid. A delicious fluttering bloomed in his crotch.
The burn of the wine as it was poured relentlessly down Adar’s throat. How he had choked and tried to push the cup away, clawing at his captor’s wrists. His master unmoved as Adar drew blood.
He began to sting, the pain mixing with the pleasure that fluttered over his ruined skin.
How it hadn’t made the slightest difference. How the wine had kept coming, filling his throat, his windpipe, his nose. How it had flooded his mouth and run in rivulets down his straining neck.
Adar’s face burned, the unfamiliar but unforgotten fluttering building in his abdomen. It sent a fire through him that weakened his knees and quickened his arm. His breath came in short stuttering pants. He was so close now. Every muscle was tense. His cock was covered in his own wetness, his fist making lewd squelching sounds as each ridge popped beneath his tight grip. He was supported only now by his gauntleted hand on the edge of the table but even that would not keep him on his feet.
You are doing so well. Drink it all, every last drop. You’re nearly done, so close now. My beautiful creation. What wonders we shall work together.
Adar sank to his knees, the pressure in his abdomen building to an unbearable peak. The movements of his thrusts became erratic as he lost his rhythm.
He looked into those golden eyes, and they pierced him through. The mouth split into a smile like the dawning of the sun and it burned.
“Ah-!”
With a long-held cry he came, shuddering in the mud. Body heaving, brow damp with sweat his hand slowed as he coaxed every last drop out of his sore, twitching cock.
Knees in the ash of that dark mountainside, he swallowed the last of that liquid and gasped his first breath as Mairon’s thrall.
It was some time before he regained himself. Opening his eyes he saw the dim light of his tent and drew in the cold, wet smells of his Uruk camp. With effort he pried his spiked gauntlet from the edge of the table. Each finger made a loud thunk as it popped free of the wood. Flexing his cramped hands he took a deep, grounding breath and stood as Adar, Lord Father of the Uruk. He would protect his children, that was who he was now. And he would do anything to keep them safe from the allure of that cruel tyrant. Perhaps even something others would consider foolish. It was a risk, but a calculated one. He would break this Man and perhaps he would even permit himself to enjoy it.
---*Notes*---
I used a couple of words of black speech that I got from https://lingojam.com/BlackSpeechofMordorTranslator. Please tell me if there are better translators/translations out there!
