#Donald pierce (Logan) | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

writing-my-time · 7 months ago

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Meet Me in the Bathroom

Donald Pierce X F!Reader This is the first time I've ever posted anything I've written to Tumblr! This is written for @toxicanonymity's Boyd-a-thon, which was almost perfect timing considering he's become my new blorbo. Word Count: 1.7k Warnings: 18+, Smut with minimal plot, alcohol, semi-public sex, fingering, light spanking, over-use of pet names, unprotected sex. Summary: Not even five minutes into your drink, Donald invites you to 'catch-up' in the bathroom. You agree.

Tap tap tap. Tap. The sound is aggravating, the sight even more so.

Donald Pierce slides next to you, practically peacocking his chest out as his robotic digits thrum against the bar table. Each tap of his fingers on the wood makes your eye twitch. Apparently, there’s no escaping the Reaver’s ringleader, not even in a bar right on the outskirts of Laguna Vista. You’ve only been nursing your drink for about five minutes, before he’s made his way over to you. Not even enough time to feel a buzz. He’s got that stupid grin on his face. The one where his gold tooth glints, contrasting his otherwise pearly whites. As the man leans forward, pulling down his red shades to reveal his steely blue eyes, you can’t help but roll your own. Your wordless exchange is one you’ve shared before, though it’s far too early for the two of you to make your way back to wherever he’s staying.

“Oh, c’mon, angel.” He clicks his tongue before sipping his whiskey. “Ain’t like you to refuse a piece.”

You almost choke on your drink, not wanting to stroke the man’s ego with a laugh. Watching as he folds his glasses and tucks them into his jacket pocket, you can’t help but rest your eyes on his chain necklace — Donald notices, chuckling to himself as he leans a little further forward. The chain you’d been admiring now dangles gently off his skin, glimmering slightly as the dim lights of the bar catch it swaying. Soon enough, his whiskied breath hits the shell of your ear, breaking you from your trance.

“I ain’t asking for you to stay the night, princess. Just hoping you’d meet me in the bathroom in a minute or two.” He’s almost pouting, the dirtbag. “Like old times?”

“The fucking bathroom, Don? That’s disgusting” You growl through a whisper.

“Didn’t stop you in New Mexico. Or Lake Charles, or-” “Christ, fine. I’ll be there in a minute.”

God damn it. You chew down on your lip, shutting your eyes to avoid the cocky eyebrow wriggle he’s most likely doing. Why did that work on you? Why does he work on you? Goosebumps pimple your skin as he pulls away. Like you expected, he’s wiggling his eyebrows. Without another word, he shifts off of his seat, swaggering away to the bathrooms, looking back at you with a smirk, he slips an ‘out-of-order’ sign onto the door of the disableds. You swing back your drink with haste.

---

It takes about two minutes for you to convince yourself to actually follow him. Quickly, you make your way across the room in an effort to stay unnoticed by the bar’s other patrons - though, they all seem too wrapped up in their own business to notice two people entering the same bathroom. As you push open the creaky door, you’re met almost instantly with the strong frame of Donald Pierce. Both flesh and cybernetic hands make their way down your sides, and his predatory grip tightens around your waist. Pulling you into the bathroom entirely, Don kicks the door closed with his foot before pressing you up against the cold wood. You still have enough time to look around the bathroom before his lips latch onto your neck. Like you suspected, it wasn’t exactly clean.

The walls have some kind of mold growing up the side, and in truth, the floor is no better. God knows what the actual amenities look like. There’s a faint droning of the harsh fluorescent light above you, but that holds nothing in comparison to the sound of Don’s throaty chuckle as his hands begin to guide you over the sink.

“You’re not bending me over that thing.” You try to dig in your heels, but you know he’s far too strong to be stopped. That, and you don’t really want him to. “Don, it’s filthy.”

“Stop whining.”

“Don, you’re not fucking me-”

“-I said stop whining.” He cuts your protests off short, turning and forcing you to grip the sides of the decrepit sink as he pushes you against it. “Now, be a good girl and look in the mirror.”

Hearing his order makes your cheeks burn, and you lift your head to catch his image in the mirror. You watch the reflection with shaky breath as Don hikes your skirt up and drags your panties halfway down your thighs. With your eyes focusing on Don, you catch him throwing his head back, growling in frustration to himself before he unbuckles his belt. He drags his tongue over his teeth, flitting his eyes between the sight of your warmth, slick and wanting, and your blushing face in the mirror.

“Wish I could take my time with you.” He admits with a growl, lazily pushing the waistband of his pants under his balls, pumping his cock a few times in preparation. “Shit, I’d worship your pussy if you let me, angel. But we don’t got time.”

You’re about to quip back to him that it was his choice to fuck in the bathroom, but the air is forced out of your lungs as he delves two freezing cold metal fingers into your pink slit. Already, you know he’s not planning on keeping his cybernetic digits there for long; simply working your wetness enough to make room for his thickness. When a moan threatens to escape your lips, you have to remove your gaze from the mirror entirely. Don clicks his tongue, hastily pulling his hand away from your core. “Thought I told you to look, pretty girl.” The southern man reaches forward and grips your jaw, steering your head back to the direction of the mirror.

Once again, you’re met with your own reflection. You watch through half-lidded eyes as Don grips his length in his hand, coating it in the slick he had gathered from your core. It’s mesmerizing, the way his tip is already red and weeping in his tight grasp. He knows you’re looking, and rewards your focus with a gentle love tap of his cock against your folds. If you weren’t so worked up, you’d bark at him to get a condom, but that’s more time you don’t want to lose. After a heated exhale from Don, he pushes forward.

While this isn’t the first time his girth has invaded your walls, the pure thickness of him forces a choked gasp from deep within your chest. The man has yet to move, instead he dips his head down, clearly in his own bubble of ecstasy while your wetness envelops him with ease. Don’s hands grip your hips with enough strength to leave bruises, and without warning the Reaver pulls himself completely out, only to ram himself back in. His pace is vicious; the sound of skin slapping against skin echoes through the dingy bathroom. All you can do is bite down on your lip in a desperate attempt to stay quiet, watching through glassy eyes as Donald’s reflection fucks into you with a snarl.

“Fuck, angel,” He rasps, catching your eyes in the mirror. “Don't you look so pretty takin’ my cock like this?”

You nod, earning a harsh slap to your ass with his flesh hand.

“Words, baby. You know I like that pretty lil’ voice of yours.”

“I look pretty.” You manage to squeak out through high-pitched whimpers.

“Good girl.”

His praise is accentuated by his cybernetic hand snaking around your waist and slipping between your soaked folds. Finding your clit, he circles it with an equally brutal pace as his thrusts. There's a knot in your stomach, and already you’re feeling it begin to snap. It's as if he knows, digging his free hand in your hip for better leverage to fuck you even harder; now hitting deep enough inside you to make you need to scream. Instead, you clamp your teeth down around your hand, moaning into the bitten skin. You're so close it hurts.

“Does my pretty girl wanna cum?”

Again, you nod. This time you don't get spanked. When you focus on the mirror, you see Don's face begin to twist into pure bliss. He's close too. In his one moment of being a gentleman, he clearly wants you to cum first, or at least at the same time. Throwing his head back, Don lets out a low growl.

“Cum for me, pretty girl. Let me feel it.”

On command, your body spasms, a quick and powerful release clamping down around him while you whine into your hand. You can't help but squint your eyes shut, feeling the final staggered thrusts from Don before he pulls out with barely enough time to spare. All you can hear is his throaty grunts, right before thick ropes of his release coat your ass. He slumps over your body for a moment, syncing with your own heavy breaths before finally pulling back and admiring his work. The reaver gives your left cheek a gentle smack before pulling your skirt back down over it. He's pocketed your panties. Jerk. As you pull back with shaky legs, you aren't surprised to see he's already tucked himself back in, zipping up his fly as your eyes meet his. Can't exactly have pillow talk in a disabled bathroom, can you? The look he gives you isn't one you've seen before, but you can guess what it means.

“Gotta go?” You assume, finally exhaling a stable breath.

“You know it, angel. Nature of the job.” He shoots you the same shit eating grin as before, making sure to add in a wink this time for good measure.

With that, Donald exits the bathroom without so much as a goodbye. You rest your arms back against the sink, shaking your head as you laugh at your own expense. A minute later, you follow suit, creaking open the toilet door and removing the out-of-order sign. The man is nowhere to be seen, leaving an empty feeling you’d much prefer to drink away than acknowledge. When you head back to your original seat at the bar, the tender sets down a pretty pink cocktail with a note.

See you later, pretty girl. - D. x ---

Thank you for reading! Feedback, thoughts, and other ideas welcome. Maybe more Holbrook boy fics in the future :) Big thank you to @justeverythingprettymuch for hyping me up to post this <3

#boyd a thon #boyd holbrook #donald pierce #donald pierce x reader #logan 2017 #donald pierce smu #goose writing

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