His Obsession

This story was inspired by the novel series written by Danielle Lori - "The maddest Obsession". It's on Kindle Unlimited. I've adapted to Steve & Y/N and it inspired me to change it up a bit.

~ Steve’s POV - Present Day

I’m sitting in an expensive office while I’m laying down in the lounge chair to relax.

My therapist, Wanda Maximoff is sitting in a beautiful red dress and she’s on her seat as she makes notes. I would say, she’s one of the rare women that I keep platonically.

Wanda asks me “Tell me a fact about yourself.”

I listened to the clock ticks and tocks as I think.

I answer “I have an addictive personality.”

She asks “Alcohol?”

I shook my head.

She asks “Drugs?”

That would be easier.

She asks “Women?”

I’ve only been into one woman who's been driving me nuts for years. One I can never have.

I can have almost any woman in New York but why did it have to be her.

Wanda asks “What is your addiction? You have to open up or else I can’t help you.”

I’ve learned at a young age that the world wasn’t made up of black and white. Sometimes, one became so tainted they couldn’t get back to the light and other times, the dark just felt right. Even if the latter didn’t apply to me, I would never jeopardize what I have built. I’d worked too hard to get here to ever give it up for a woman.

Especially one that dresses up like Jennifer Lopez at night and Jennifer Anniston in the day.

Wanda says “Is it a woman? Some believe it was over a woman.”

She’s good.

I asked, “Are you some, Wanda?”

She answers “No”

I asked her “Why not?”

She answers “You seem too… levelheaded to behave in such a way over a woman.”

She meant I’m too cold. She was right. I normally don’t act out.

Wanda asks “Back to your addictive personality, do you often give in to whatever it is that you want?”

Just the idea that I could taste sweet, doubled the paced of my heart and it made me feel edgy. I hated the woman for making my life hell for years but if I didn’t touch her, to fuck the memory of every other man out of her mind until she was half as obsessed as I was until she never forget my name for the rest of her life.

I answered “Never”

Wanda asks “Why not?”

I looked at her deadpanned “Because then it will win.”

Wanda observes “And you don’t like to lose?”

We both stare at each other in silence and she can read my hidden expressions because I don’t like to be out of control.

Wanda answers after a moment of silence “No, you don’t. How do you cope with this addiction?”

I answer “Order.”

She doesn’t like my vague answers “What do you mean, in what circumstances?”

I answer “All of them.”

She asks “What happens when there’s a disorder in your life?”

I thought of Y/N Stark and how many times I have to deal with her and acted neutral like she doesn’t affect me but it was annoying. She makes it nauseating and fucken bitter.

I answer in anger “I fix it.”

I got up and glanced at my wrist, the hidden elastic tie underneath my cuff. I was getting ready to leave the office.

Wanda asks “What if it’s not fixable?

I answer her “That, Wanda, is when I obsess.”

_____________________________________

~ Back to the past - Y/N’s POV - 22 years old

I’d found bliss in a rolled-up dollar bill and white powder.

It felt like sex, without the emptiness. It was euphoric and better than staying in this reality. Sometimes it means to an end.

I said to the lady who was locking me up “I’m sure I am entitled to a phone call.”

She looked at me like I was a stupid child “You’re out of luck, Princess. If I have to look at that monstrosity of a dress for another minute, I’ll have a headache for the rest of my shift.”

I rolled my eyes and said, “You’re going to be sorry for that.”

She snickers.

I haven’t changed my last name to Stark because I preferred to stay hidden like a dirty secret to my husband, Howard Stark. He’s the man running the mob and he’s the leader. I’m his young bride, who happens to be younger than his son, Tony Stark who is 25, and his adopted son, Steve who is 24.

I’m young enough to be his daughter.

Howard had his son early in life, he’s only 50. My father is a businessman and he’s 49.

I don’t even know how I managed up here. Oh right, because life has a way to fuck things up.

The police locked me up after stopping my vehicle and I had coke in my car. Anyone knows not to stop my car but this young police officer who thinks she’s a hotshot doesn’t understand the rules around here. She’s new.

I’m sitting here because I’m just waiting for Howard’s minion to come and free me out.

I turned around to look at the cell, there were a few people who are looking at me.

This is the first time, I’ve ever been in a jail cell. It’s not as scary as it looks or perhaps I feel like I’m in a jail cell myself.

Someone comes up to me and she looks tough and says “I like this dress. Maybe you should take it off and give it to me as a present.”

I looked her up and said, “What would I be wearing then?”

She points at her plain shirt and shorts. I’d like to sit down so maybe it wasn’t a bad trade.

I shrug “Ok”

We both were stripping and I was in a thong. The other girls were looking at us as we exchanged clothes.

I wasn’t wearing a bra.

One dirty officer was coming in to enjoy the show.

He growls “Turn around.” as I was hiding my breasts.

The poor girl was going to do what he says.

I turned to him and glared at him “I’m scared you’d have to die for that.”

The man was awful as he takes a baton out and his the cell while I’m in my thong and covering my breasts.

He threatens “Show them to me or else I’ll have to stick this somewhere that you’ll regret.”

I laughed and everyone looked at me crazy “I dare you. You would have to worry because that baton is going up your ass tonight.”

He growls “You’re going to fucken get it.” he starts to fiddle with the keys and wants to unlock the cell.

I turned around and wore the shirt and shorts on. Meanwhile, I tell the girl, go wear the dress.

The perverted officer’s name is R. Donald walks up to me and he was in my face “Let’s get you in a room or… I like having to show them what it means to get fucked by a baton. You fucken cunt… drug addict.”

He was a predator and he’s using his authority to fuck with women.

I grabbed a hold of him as I slammed my knee into his chest. I vowed never to be in that position again. Even my husband gives me free reigns and doesn’t try to restrict me. Perhaps I’ll be under more surveillance after tonight but I will not allow this man to walk the earth knowing what I know.

Death has never been a problem to me.

The officer went down and I kicked him in the ribs with the heels. Thank god it’s covered heeled shoes. I grabbed the baton and I started to hit him because that’s how I wanted to beat up the man who touched me all those years. He died before I could kill him myself. He died before I could learn how to defend myself.

So call it pent-up anger but I hit him over and over until the other officers heard him scream and they were running to aid him. Pulling me away and handcuffing me to the cell bars.

The lady who brought me in punches me and it split my lip.

She says “Princess, you’re going away for a while. How dare you attack an officer?”

I spat out blood and looked up to her “You should look him up for sexual assault. He was going to use the baton on us for talking back. The man is a pervert. He wanted to watch us change and demanded that I show him my breasts.”

Her eyes were wide as she didn’t think that was possible. I can see it in her eyes. They were always in denial.