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Title: To Take By Force
Author:
moit
Summary: Mid-quest. Boromir doesn't take no for an answer.
Fandom: Lord of the Rings
Pairing: Frodo/Boromir
Rating: R
Genre: Drama, 100-word drabble
Warnings: slash, masturbation, dub-con
Challenge:
mmom
Author's Note: MMOM fic #10. This one is for
claudia603 who requested Frodo (always Frodo ^_^) and Boromir. With this fic, I'm at 10 100-word drabbles in two days. I'm tired. :(
Boromir held Frodo’s hand tightly over the hobbit’s flaccid length, willing him to hardness.
“Boromir, please, Sam will surely be looking for me.”
Frustrated, Boromir abandoned his attempts. He held the hobbit still with his free hand as he jerked himself off. The sight of Frodo’s pointed ears and delicate elvish features pushed him over the edge. He came with a cry across Frodo’s cloak.
“Clean yourself up,” Boromir said disgustedly, tossing Frodo a soiled handkerchief.
Frodo wiped at his cloak angrily after buttoning his trousers. He stared after Boromir’s retreating form, hate for the Man boiling in his chest.
Author:
![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
Summary: Mid-quest. Boromir doesn't take no for an answer.
Fandom: Lord of the Rings
Pairing: Frodo/Boromir
Rating: R
Genre: Drama, 100-word drabble
Warnings: slash, masturbation, dub-con
Challenge:
![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-community.gif)
Author's Note: MMOM fic #10. This one is for
![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
Boromir held Frodo’s hand tightly over the hobbit’s flaccid length, willing him to hardness.
“Boromir, please, Sam will surely be looking for me.”
Frustrated, Boromir abandoned his attempts. He held the hobbit still with his free hand as he jerked himself off. The sight of Frodo’s pointed ears and delicate elvish features pushed him over the edge. He came with a cry across Frodo’s cloak.
“Clean yourself up,” Boromir said disgustedly, tossing Frodo a soiled handkerchief.
Frodo wiped at his cloak angrily after buttoning his trousers. He stared after Boromir’s retreating form, hate for the Man boiling in his chest.