The Heart Wants What it Wants
Pairing: Biker!Steve Rogers x female clubgirl!Reader
Synopsis: There’s a million reasons why you should give up your feelings for Biker!Steve, but your heart can't help itself.
Warnings: fluff,angst,smut, Possessive!Steve, unprotected sex (stay safe yall) , penetrative sex, happy ending
A/N: I haven't written anything in two years, so forgive the poor characterization and mediocre writing. Not beta’d, all mistakes are my own. Inspired by “ The heart wants what it wants” by Selena Gomez.
“Steve is not going to let you leave,” Wanda scoffed as she wipes the counter.
“ Girl, your pussy is magic. Do you really think he’s gonna let you go?” Lucia stated matter of factly.
You rolled your eyes and crossed your legs. “ Club girls come and go. Once I leave, five more girls are going to jump to take my place.”
Being a club girl to one of the biggest motorcycle clubs had its perks. You had a roof over your head , with zero bills to pay. You had a family that watched your back and the freedom to focus on university. In return, you would consensually sleep with the members of the Howling Commandos Motorcycle Club . The only rules were you were to only sleep with members of the MC and pick up some of the chores around the clubhouse.
You were a sweetbutt. Sweet mama. Croweater. Whatever nickname, to each their own. You were club property.
Being the President’s,Steve Roger’s favorite girl had its perks, as well. No one got away with disrespecting you, which is unusual on its own considering you were no one’s old lady. But for the past year, you’ve exclusively slept with Steve . And cuddled with him. And go riding with him ( which is a privilege on its own, all bikers treat their motorcycles like a temple), and tell him every fear, hope, and dream you’ve ever had.
If you wanted to leave, you would need to ask the president. You’ve been a club girl for almost two years now, and every single time they’ve asked to leave, Steve granted their request.
“I can't stay with the club forever,” you say weakly, leaning your elbow on the counter Wanda just wiped. “ I plan on going to grad school out of state.”
“ You mean you don't want to stay with Steve, forever,” Lucia corrected beside you. “ I thought you liked being his favorite,” she asked sarcastically.
You were planning on taking a gap year since you were near the end of your undergrad career. You wanted to travel. Take a vacation. Finally relax , since it's been endless work since your freshman year and it will just be more work once you start grad school.
You could travel all you want as a club girl. But no matter how far you could travel, your heart will always pull you to him.
But does he yearn for you?
“ I don't think my heart could take much more, guys.”
“Oh my gosh, you love him,” Wanda stated.
What’s not to love? Steve was a kind, compassionate, and down to earth man. He would put his life down for anyone in the club without a second thought. Steve was sexy as sin, with huge arms and even more sculpted legs to match. He was a golden boy. He was amazing.
“ There’s only so much my heart can take , Wan,” you took a deep breath to steady your voice. “ I knew what I was signing up for when I became a club girl but I didn't think it would give me this much heartache.”
“You’re an incurable romantic, Y/N. You feel too much,” Lucia stated simply. “ You don't even know if Steve feels the same way.”
Your heart plummeted. Wanda glared at Lucia. “ Don’t look at me like that,” Lucia defended herself, “ I’m capable of getting under someone without catching feelings.”
“ Anyways,” Wanda said curtly, “Luce, don't you have a paper or two to write?”
She rolled her eyes but nonetheless hopped off the stool and slung her purse over her shoulder. “ I hate that you’re right. I will see you bitches later.” You and Wanda say your goodbyes.
“ And my break is over, I have budget reports to look at,” Wanda sighed.
“ Like a hole in the head,” Wanda remarked.
You collected your belongings but Wanda stopped you. “ How about asking him out on a date?”
“No, Natasha,” Wanda rolled her eyes, referencing Clint’s old lady.
“ Redheads are not my type.”
You and Wanda share a laugh. “ Ask him,” she urged, putting her hand on your shoulder “ The worst thing he can do is say no.”
Then you’ll have to mend your heart back together if he does.
Gosh, you can't remember a time where you were so anxious about a guy. You weren't shy about sex, but you sure held back when it came to your feelings.
But a girl has got to try.
You were pacing outside of his door. Gosh, you felt like a middle schooler going to ask out her crush.
It was a simple “Do you want to get dinner together?” Or “ Let’s have a picnic!” or-
“ Everything okay, pretty?” a deep voice snapped you out of your rehearsal.
He was shirtless with droplets of water still very much on his abs. You could see his dick print through his gray sweatpants. Gosh, how were you supposed to ask him out when all you wanted to do was jump him?
“ I could hear you pacing through the door.” he grabbed your waist to bring you closer to him. He tickles your neck with his facial hair, your laughter is music to his ears.
“ I came to ask you something,” you said in between giggles.
“Ask away, pretty,” he said ,starting to kiss your neck.
This was your ideal situation. You didn't have to look in his eyes. But with every kiss to your neck your panties got wetter.
You laced your fingers in his damp hair and forced him to look at you. “ Will you go out with me?”
His eyebrows raised in surprise. His mouth broke out in a smile. With how nervous you were , you couldn't tell if that was a happy smile or ‘i’m laughing at you smile’.
“What made you ask me, pretty?”
There were a billion reasons running through your head. A billion explanations. A billion confessions threatening to surface like word vomit. But there were a billion insecurities. A billion potential heartbreaks.
“ I just thought it would be fun,” you said, massaging his scalp with your finger nails.
You know he doesn't believe you, the detective twinkle in his eye says so. But he doesn't question you.
“ A date with you sounds perfect, pretty one. But I thought I was supposed to ask you out?” he says pinching your bum.
“ Well you were taking too long,” you tease.
“ Well my apologies, I hate that I kept my best girl waiting. Where are we going?”
“ I was thinking about Ben's?” you suggested. Ben’s was the club’s favorite place to eat. It was frequent after church, or just on a random Saturday because they felt like it.
“ Oh no, our first date needs to be special,” he argued. “ And we go to Ben’s all the time.”
“ But their burgers are so good.”
He chuckles, “But you deserved wine and dined.”
You stand on your tippy toes and press a gentle kiss on his lips.” Then we'll just have to go to Casa Rustica.”
“Then I guess we will.” He cups your face and brings you towards his lips.A rush of warmth floods through you, melting away your lingering doubts.Time seemed to stand still when you kissed him. And with every nibble and bite , it made your core clench over nothing. Whenever you groaned into him, you sent vibrations through him, making his dick twitch.
You finally mustered the strength to pull away from his lips. “ How does tomorrow night sound? Five ? ”
“ Sounds perfect, pretty.”
When he’s five minutes late , it’s because the red lights take forever to turn green. So you think.
When Steve is ten minutes late, it’s because he realized he had two different shoes on. So you think.
When thirty minutes pass, your heart sinks with the realization you’ve been stood up. It isn't until you take your jewelry that your phone chimes with a text message.
I’m sorry that I’ve kept you waiting this long, but I can't make it tonight.
You couldn't tell if that was a “something came up” apology or a “ I forgot” excuse.
It was like he threw a rock at your glass-paned heart. What did you expect from someone who got the milk for free and isn't interested in buying the cow?
Your dynamic with him was a unique one of its own. Not a lot of club girls get turned into old lady’s . Not that you were expecting that, but you wanted to try with Steve. Have a relationship with him. Be his proper girlfriend.
Lucia always said you would bring yourself more heartache than you deserve. Guess she was right.
“You were right.” You slumped down next to Lucia at a table outside of your university’s student union.
She put down her pencil and raised an eyebrow. “ I’m right about a lot of things, you need to be more specific.”
“ I took a risk and asked him out, but he stood me up.”
Lucia’s face fell a little, “ Babe, I didn't want to be right,” she rubbed your back.
“ Why did I let myself think he was gonna sweep me off my feet and run off into the sunset together” you ask out loud.
“ I don't think so ma’am,” she wagged her finger like a mother scolding her child, “ He’s the asshole who decided to ditch you. Did he say why?”
You shook your head, “ I didn't ask”. She gave you a bitch are you kidding me look. “ No one can question the president, Luce. He’s given me protection and a roof over my head and-”
“ I don't care if he was the president of the United States,” she said sharply, “You deserve an explanation.” She opened her palm expectantly.
“No,no,no,” you started. Her eyes pierced your soul, demanding that you give up your phone. You tried to resist but ended up pulling your phone from your back pocket and handing it to her.
She unlocked your phone and began typing. The goosebumps danced on your skin, hoping that she would say anything disrespectful to him. Lucia shows you the message she has yet to send.
Hey, is everything alright? You ditched me with no notice last night
Granted, she could have typed out a message in a much more disrespectful tone with a plethora of profanities.
You take the phone and press send. With every passing minute your palms grew sweaty, until your phone chimed and you opened his messages.
Those two words were every motorcycle club president’s favorite words. Two words that no one could question. Two words that answered but did not fulfill any question.
“ He hit me with the 'club business’ , " you told Lucia bitterly. Which doesn't make sense considering that Bucky, his Vice President, and Sam, his secretary were both at the clubhouse last night.
“Okay , screw him,” Lucia exclaimed with no care for the heads that turned. “You just need to get under someone new to get over him.”
“Allowed to sleep with anyone outside the club. I know,” Lucia droned, repeating your usual explanation. “ I never mentioned anyone outside the club. You say it yourself, you’re a club girl, not his girl.”
The prospect of sleeping with someone else churned your stomach. You have slept with other members of the club. But he fucked the memory of anyone else touching you out of your system.
“I don't think I would ever get with a biker. But Sam? He could get it every day of-”
“Okay, Luce, I get it,” you laugh a little.
What do you get for falling in love with someone who never gave you a second thought unless you weren't in bed with him?
You were his. Every birthmark and scar. Every curve and crevice. Every perfection and imperfection. Every hope and dream you’ve ever had.
So then why was Thor’s hand on your thigh?
Steve knows canceling on your date thirty minutes after he was supposed to pick you up was less than gentlemanly. But he had a good reason for his absence, one he has yet to disclose.
You haven't spoken to him in two days . Granted it’s only been two days, but it’s been two nights without you cuddled to his side in his bed..Two mornings where your hair was splayed all over the silk pillow cases he bought just for you.
And instead of sitting on Steve’s lap like you always do at club parties, you found whatever Thor fucking Odinson was whispering in your ear was so fucking funny.
It wasnt until Thor stood up and you fucking took his hand that he had seen enough. Steve released his clenched fist and stood up. His racing heart matched every quick thud his heavy boots made on the hardwood floor.
Your gaze flickered to him for a millisecond. Because you know you’re his,too.
In hindsight, it was a good idea.
You wore the shortest skirt in your closet and a shirt that made your boobs look fantastic. All club girls were expected to attend Friday night parties (which is short for every biker’s excuse to get drunk and get laid after the work week) with the half hearted intention to get under someone to get over Steve.
You took a seat next to Thor, who was a part of the club but was one of Steve’s friends, and flirted with him like it was a 9 to 5 job. You sat next to him with the intention of letting him take you to bed, but your true intentions evaporated when you fell into genuine conversation with him.
A genuine conversation with his hand resting on your thigh and him getting so close you can smell his cologne. Yup, super friendly.
When you took his hand and offered to go to the kitchen for a drink, you saw him in the corner of your eye. Steve stood tall and proud, and he walked to you.
In hindsight, it was a good idea.
It was still a good idea; since Steve had your thighs pressed to chest, his huge dick stretched out your cunt, fucking you into his mattress. You mewled when he pressed an inch closer so your clit brushed against his pelvis.
“That’s a good fucking girl, taking my cock,” Steve choked out. Your cunt clenched around him at his praise.
Your eyes rolled to the back of your head when his dick kissed your cervix in the best way possible. It was a gift that never hurt, whether that was because you liked the way it felt or he knew your body so well he never hurt you. You dragged your nails down his chest so hard there was definitely going to be red marks.
“Tell me you’re mine,” he grunted out, knowing his high was soon to crash. “ This pussy belongs to me.”
“ Steve, sososo- Fuck!” He thought it was cute whenever you got too cock drunk. Your tits bounces with every thrust inside your cunt. Your left eye was twitching, so he knew you were about to come. Your clit was swollen, just how he liked it.
It was all fucking perfect. You were fucking perfect.
Steve pinched your nipple which elicited a whine from you. “ Tell me this pussy belongs to me or you can't come.”
You attempted to de-scramble your overstimulated brain with the proper response. “ I- fuck Stevie-”
Frustrated with your disobedience, Steve starts rubbing fast circles in your clit, making your cunt clench involuntarily. “ My pussy belongs to you!,” you moaned “ I need to cum please.”
“ Then cum for me, pretty.”
You released around him in a crescendo, with him following suit. You milked Steve’s cock for all its worth as he pumped your cunt full of his cum with three snaps of his hips. You and Steve laid in silence, allowing yourselves to just feel each other for a few more moments.
He gently pulled out and got to work with cleaning you up. The way he wipes your messy cunt with a warm towel, how he kissed your thighs and praised you for taking him so good.
It was all too sweet. But it hardened your resolve nonetheless. Wherever that resolve was.
Steve sat on his bed, downing a glass of his favorite bourbon. As you walked towards him from the bathroom, he appreciated the view of you in one of his Harley Davidson t-shirts. You don't know if you look into his gorgeous blue eyes and tell your truth.
“Can I ? -”, you and Steve said simultaneously. You ushered for him to continue. He stood up from the bed and took your hand.“ You first, pretty.”
Tell him, you coward, you scolded yourself. “ What am I doing?” you thought out loud.
Steve furrowed his eyebrow in confusion. “ I have feelings for you,” you whispered. “ But it was wishful thinking we could be something more. But it- it wouldn't be real.”
“What do you mean it wouldn't be real?”
“ I’m a club whore, You’re the president,” you said plainly. “We wouldn't have a relationship, we don't have a relationship now! It’s ownership. I belong to the club-”
“ You’re mine,” Steve cut you off sharply.
“It’s the same thing Steve,” you replied solemnly. “ It’s one sided. You- You own me, you control me, I belong to you-”
“ You own me!” he interrupted. “ You control me, I belong to you. If you want my heart, I'll rip it out of my chest and give it to you. You own every part of me.” Steve brings your hand to his heart so you can feel the rhythmic thump of his heartbeat. “ All I can think about is you. All I see is you.”
“You don't mean that,” your eyes were bright with unshed tears.
“Have I ever lied to you, pretty?”
“ Then what were you doing the night we were supposed to go out? Got cold feet?”
Steve drops your hand and goes to his closet. He shuffles around and grabs something black. Steve holds it out for you to see: A black leather jacket in your size, with the back embroidered with the Howling Commandos insignia with the words Property of Rogers around the symbol.
“The tailor needed a second opinion on the size. I wanted to make sure everything was perfect,” he explained.
“Is it for me?,” you asked.
“All yours, pretty. Try it on for me,” he commanded softly.
It was a snug fit. A perfect fit. “ What does this mean for us, Steve?”
He cups your cheeks, “ It means that you’re mine and I’m yours. You’re my old lady and I’m your man.”
“Club girl to old lady is kind of a big jump though,” you snided.
“ One day at a time, pretty. A day at a time.”
You closed the gap between you and Steve with a soft kiss. His lips molded perfectly against yours. Maybe it was all a dream and the cruel reality would wake you up. But it was no dream. Steve was real. He tasted like he was yours.
“ You’re mine,” Steve stated.
“ I’m yours. Are you mine?”
“ With all my heart and song that belongs to you, pretty.”
A/N: I made a Scandal reference, iykyk
