Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/778821.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Rape/Non-Con, Underage
  Category:
      F/M
  Fandom:
      Cape_Wrath_|_Meadowlands
  Relationship:
      Jack_Donnelly/You
  Character:
      Jack_Donnelly
  Additional Tags:
      Menstrual_Sex, Menstruation_Kink
  Series:
      Part 3 of Donnelly_makes_his_way_through_the_Cape
  Stats:
      Published: 2013-04-29 Words: 3082
****** Victim Three ******
by HardiganCaptain
Summary
     I found that damned GIF on Tumblr again "If she's old enough to
     bleed, she's old enough to butcher." And this is the result... I'm
     sorry that I'm not sorry
School sucks, no, not just sucks, it sucks your soul right out and then
torments you anyways. Resting your chin on the palm of your hand, you stare at
the clock, watching the second hand tick slowly. Five more minutes, just five
more minutes. You blink slowly, the teachers drone breezing right over your
head as the minute hand finally moves. Four minutes.
Turning your attention back to your notebook, you add a few more lines to the
decorative scribble that surrounded a name. Not a boy’s name, no, a man’s. Lips
curling you add a bit more flourish to the ‘J’, the scent of ink heavy in the
air, you can taste it on your tongue.
Your father had called him the other day, finally giving in to the inevitable
when he couldn’t get the sink fixed himself. It had been a surprise to find
Jack in the kitchen, his legs sprawled out on the tile as he worked, soft
grunts echoing out from the cabinet. A part of you told you that you didn’t
really need to get a glass, all of the dishes still on the counter top from
getting cleaned the night before, that you could just drink from the carton.
But you hadn’t been able to resist.
A shiver rolls down your spine at the memory of the questioning hum he’d made.
The one that had turned to appreciation as he finished squirming out from the
sink to see who belonged to the foot that brushed his thigh. Not one of the
boys at your school looked at you the way he did, starting at your calves and
slowly working his way up. You tried a confident smile but knew that it came
off less sophisticated than you’d have liked.
“Hullo.”
“Hnng”
“So you’re the handyman?”
You’d wrapped an arm around yourself as you bent at the waist, pushing your
breasts up, almost spilling out of the loose tank you wore around the house. He
noticed. You knew he had because his eyes had shifted from your face to the
cleavage you’d shamelessly displayed. His mouth had opened just a bit, a soft
sigh escaping him as he’d lifted his eyes back to yours, jaw rolling smoothly
as he worked the mint gum in his mouth.
“Hmm… Yeah, yeah I am.”
“Just how handy are you?” you’d felt quite proud of that bit, the words coming
out low and throaty. You sounded like one of those women no one liked to admit
visiting late at night.
“I do a bit of everything,”
You jump when the harsh sound of the bell shakes you out of the memory. Your
cheeks flushing as you notice everyone else is already sliding away from their
desks and towards the door. Slamming the notebook closed, you shove it into
your bag and join the crush leaving the school.
“Hey! What are you doing this weekend?” An arm wraps around your shoulders,
pulling you in close. Head snapping to the side in surprise you find one of the
football players grinning down at you.
“I’ve got essays,” twisting out of his grip, you adjust the bag on your
shoulder, trying to spy an opening in the mob of students.
“Aw… C’mon, my Dad’s out of town, he’s got a liquor cabinet and-“
“Can’t.”
Finding an opening you take it, finally making it through the doors and out
into the oppressive heat. It takes you a moment to find your sunglasses,
slipping them on and trotting down the stairs to start the walk home. A few
blocks later you run into him, literally, your bag falling from your shoulder
to spill on the ground.
“Hey, now!” his voice is rough, your cheeks staining red when you notice your
tampons are scattered across the ground.
“Sorry, Mr. Donnelly.” you mutter crouching down to try and sweep everything
back into your bag, desperately trying to at least get the tampons put away
before he notices.
“None of that,” he mutters, kneeling down to help you, or so you thought only
to have him hold up one of the tampons like he’s never seen one before. “You
bleedin’ then?”
“What?” you couldn’t be anymore horrified, snatching it from his fingers.
The smile on his lips only makes you blush a deeper scarlet, hands shaking
with embarrassment as you finally manage to get everything back in the bag.
“You didn’t answer.”
“Answer wh-” you lift your eyes, feeling them widen as your mouth falls open in
surprise. He couldn’t be serious.
“Between your legs. You bleedin’?” his insistent tone makes you shift
uncomfortably, standing and taking a step back. “Well?”
You nod your head, a vicious shake before keeping your chin tucked to your
chest and trying to walk around him. He side steps into your path, chewing his
gum slowly as he reaches out to tug on the shoulder strap.
“Your first, or…”
“No.” the whisper is so soft even you can barely hear it but it only makes him
smack his gum faster, a low sound coming from his chest as he tugs you closer.
“Don’t mind a bit of that, don’t mind at all.” his voice is a low purr as he
leans closer, skimming his cheek over yours, his words a soft rasp in your ear.
“Have you ever, hnnng, you know, you ever been with anyone?”
“Yes.” your breath catches in your throat at the throaty chuckle, his fingers
brushing over your arm before moving away.
“Ahh… Well I bet it wasn’t any good, was it baby? We could, I’d like that.” his
jaw rolls slowly as his eyes drift down to your mouth before meeting your gaze
again. “Daddy ain’t home today, now is he?”
Your mouth opens to say no again but he’s leaning close, his breath ghosting
over your lips, your nose filling with the minty scent and something else. You
can’t seem to break eye contact, watching the way his eyes crinkle at the
corners as the smile broadens.
“That’s a yes, right.” it’s not a question and he doesn’t wait for an answer, a
gentle teasing tone as he continues, “Mommy and Daddy ain’t home and baby’s
ready to play.”
The way he’s whispering brings a low whimper to your lips, turning quickly to a
sound of surprise when his hand circles your wrist. Feeling the hard length of
his erection through his jeans makes something low in your stomach flutter,
eyed darting around to try and see if anyone’s watching. It’s got your heart
racing, your lower lip sucked into your mouth as you bite down on it, you don’t
remember doing anything like this before.
Your eyes fall, looking at the bulge in the denim as your hand squeezes on it
lightly.  The groan that comes from his chest sends heat rushing through you,
your breath catching at the strength of it.
“Mmmph, tha’s good.”
You squeeze again, harder, this time smiling as his lips skim over your temple,
a soft grating moan rattling in his throat as he holds your hand in place.
“Good, good… C’mon, back to your house, not here.”
His eyes on you as you walk back to your house make you shiver despite the
heat, your palm still tingling from groping him through denim. It’s not like
it’s going to be your first time. That had been in the back seat of your ex
boyfriend’s car, clumsy hands and rushed kisses. It had hurt, a lot, but you
assumed it was because he hadn’t known what he was doing.
Jack would.
There’s an extra bit of sway to your walk, your bag tapping against your hip. A
whisper of doubt echoes in your mind. You’ve heard the rumors about him.
Overhear your parents talking about what an animal he is. They’re wrong though,
dead wrong, how they could think that of him left you scowling. He was
handsome, and sweet, and good around the house. Animals were crass and had no
manners at all.
You slide your key into the lock, shouldering it open, and dropping your bag
near the door. His presence behind you as you head towards the stairs leaves
you feeling a bit awkward, the feeling of his gaze intense to the point you
would swear you knew exactly where he was looking. Tripping on a step, you
almost go sprawling before you catch yourself on the railing, letting out a
soft squeak of fear at the idea of tumbling down them.
“Nervous?” His fingers lightly skim over your thigh, sliding between your legs
as you go to take the next step. You catch the sound of his sharp inhale, the
raspy sigh that follows it, even as you skip a step for a bit of distance.
“Hey!”
The soft grunt he gives in response leaves that niggling feeling of doubt the
only thing you can pay attention to. If he’d laughed, or maybe gave some kind
of cheesy line, you might have been able to giggle and brush it off.  But the
sound was dark, goosebumps raising on your arms, the glance over your shoulder
more trepidation than flirtatious.
“Which one’s yours?” his voice is close to your ear, his palms sliding over
your hips to press you back against him, his fingers digging into the tops of
your thighs. 
You can feel him through his jeans, his hands grinding you against him, soft
breaths stirring the hair by your ear. The surge of lust that roils through you
shoves back the concern, twisting out of his grasp to open the door to your
bedroom, you turn and backwards towards your bed slowly. Falling back on it,
you slowly slide back until you rest on the pillows, lifting the corner of your
mouth in a smirk.
He has your shoes off and tossed across the room before his knees hit the
mattress, jaw rolling slowly as he cups your legs, pushing them upwards until
your feet are flat on the bed. You whimper when he slams his hands into the
pillows on either side of your head, his hips pressing against yours as he
grins, chewing his gum slowly. The roll of his hips is subtle at first, just a
light brush, but then he’s grinding against you, a steady groan falling from
his lips as his eyes slowly slide half way shut.
“Bet you’re tight, good girl like you…” His fingers thread through your hair
before gripping and giving it a firm yank, your eyes watering even as he leans
down to stare into them. 
Abruptly he lets go, whispering apologies against your cheek and throat as his
hips press harder against yours. His hand sliding down over your throat,
cupping it briefly before moving to cup your breast. The squeeze is gentle,
though you can feel a tremor in it that you don’t understand, releasing it to
skim along your stomach, his fingers flicking the button of your jeans open.
The deep inhale near your ear makes you squirm, your arms moving to drape over
his shoulder as you start to try matching the roll of his hips with your own.
Growling he settles his hands over your hips, the palms digging, to hold you
still, the seam of your jeans starting to rub you raw.
“Stop, stop, it hurts!” Your arms move to shove at his shoulders, shifting to
try and move him off of you as the constant grind becomes painful.
“Shh, shh,”
You yelp when he uses your hips as leverage to push himself off of you, his
hands sliding down along your thighs to spread your legs wide with his palms.
Mortified, you notice a large stain on his jeans, the denim dark.
“Oh my God…” you try to close your legs but he curls his fingers around them
and holds them in place. “That is so gross!”
“Nah… Thing of beauty.” his voice is velvet but it does nothing to calm the
churning of your stomach, “Look at you bleedin’ like you been stuck…”
His eyes are soft, his tongue gliding along his lower lip as his fingers slide
up your thighs to start tugging your jeans off your hips. A chill rolls up your
spine, your eyes widening as you make a grab for the waistband. You don’t see
the back hand coming, your head snapping to the side, fuzzily aware that he’s
yanked your pants to your knees.
“Don’t act shy now, baby.” he coos, shoving them down to your ankles before
pulling them off your feet. “Just look at you, all red and slick.”
Cool air brushes over your groin, your legs slamming closed even before your
mind has a chance to think about it. You hands moving to cover yourself when
you realize that your underwear is gone as well.
“None of that, no, don’t try and hide.”
His fingers are brutal, digging into your knees to pry them apart, shifting to
put his hips between them to keep them that way. You jump when his fingers
slide along your lips, thrusting in and drawing a whine from you as you try to
squirm away. Thumb pressing down on your pubic bone, the fingers slowly thrust
into you, shoving the tampon you’d put in earlier deeper.
“Stop, please, stop-“
“You’re right, of course, so rude.” he murmurs, twisting his fingers in before
pulling them back out.
A soft sound makes you gag, the tampon hitting the wall with a splat that
leaves your stomach roiling. You watch with a sense of horrified fascination as
he lifts his hand, inhaling deeply through his nose before licking his fingers
clean while watching your face.
“Better?”
“No! That’s disgusting, get off of me!”
Instead of answering he unfastens his jeans, pausing to skim his fingers over
the large patch of red staining them before pushing the zipper down. His hands
slide down the inside of your thighs, forcing them farther apart before running
the flat of his tongue along the lips. Dry heaving as you try to get away, he
rolls his eyes up to watch you as he does it again and again. When he finally
stops his chin is smeared red and black, his teeth pink and bared in a grin.
“God,” you roll to your side, trying to fight the sick that’s rising in your
throat.
“What’s wrong?” for a moment he actually sounds concerned, his hands stroking
over your hips.
His fingers dig in, yanking you closer to him, leaning over you to press a kiss
to your cheek as he rubs his thigh against you. Chuckling, he twists reaching
down to pull himself from his pants, his wrist grinding against your clit as he
does so. It does nothing to help your churning stomach, drawing a sob from you
as you shove at him trying to get him away. When he slides in, it’s a slow
thrust, his hand covering your mouth to stifle the shriek you’d started to
make.
The smell of your blood fills your nose, the scent settling on the back of your
tongue doing nothing to stop the heaving of your stomach. His hips snapping
against yours almost sends your stomach over the edge, the way your body jerks
up and down making you more and more nauseous. The sigh he lets out deepens
into a low groan, his hand sliding off your mouth to wrap around your throat.
Clawing at his wrist, you take in deep lungfuls of air, coughing when his hand
squeezes.
“Shh, just keep your mouth shut,” he hisses, hand sliding across your hip to
dig his thumb into your clit, grinding it mercilessly as he deepens his
thrusts. “So tight and slick.. Bit of heaven don’t you think?”
“Stop! Just-“
The back of his hand catches you on the temple, his knuckles leaving you with
spots dancing in front of your eyes. A warm trickle flowing over your eye brow
to pool in the hollow near the bridge of your nose. 
“You stop whinin’,” he snarled quietly, rolling his thumb over your clit
dragging a scream from your throat at the burst of sensation. A long drawn out
moan rattled out of his chest at the sound, his thumb grinding down again.
Hands reaching up, you try to rake your nails over his cheek, only to scrape
along his throat as he tilted his face out of reach. Frustrated you swung, your
closed fist catching his adam’s apple. Smiling when he half fell on you
coughing, his hips stuttering before coming to a stop as he coughed dryly on
your shoulder. Your hands push at his shoulders, rolling from beneath him to
crawl towards the side of the bed.
You taste blood as your teeth slam together over your tongue, a bruising grip
around your ankle dragging you backwards. Fingers dig into your hips, pulling
them up as he pressed against you from behind, his cock sliding over you as he
tries to thrust inside without releasing you. A scream tears itself from you
when he does, your legs shaking, the angle all wrong. Fingers tangle in your
hair, yanking your head back, the scream choking off as you find yourself
struggling to breathe.
The hard slam of his hips burns, you’re sure something is torn because you feel
like you’re splitting on the inside. Tangling your fingers in your blanket you
try to ignore the blood that’s running down your thighs. The awkward curve of
your spine and throat, the guttural snarl mingling with the sound of flesh on
flesh that echoes through the room. His hand in your hair slowly loosens, his
hand cupping the back of your neck to press you down into the mattress, the
thrusts becoming frantic and unsteady.
You scream into the blankets when his hips slam against yours hard enough your
face slides along the blanket, making it hard to breathe as his semen pumps
into you. When he falls back on his heels, his cheek resting on your lower
back, you can feel it slowly dribbling down your thigh as his breath puffs over
your hip. Jumping, you try to move away from his fingers as he strokes them
over you before slowly pushing them inside.
“You’re all tuckered out, aren’t you baby…” he scrapes his teeth over your
skin, his fingers slowly pumping in and out before pulling them out giving you
a slow stroke over your thigh. “Where’s the washer? Can’t walk ‘round like
this.”
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