Chapter Nine – Some Sort Of Super Human!

You walk as fast as you can, without it looking like you’re walking fast. When you get closer to the guy in front of you. You talk as loud as you can without it sounding like you’re shouting.

– Hi honey. Sorry I’m late! I sorta got lost!

The footsteps behind you is decreasing in pace. And the guy in front of you turns around. He obviously sees whoever’s behind you, because he looks at you, and extends his arms towards you, wraps you in a hug.

– Sweetheart! I almost thought you forgot about tonight.

He holds you in the hug, until the guys behind you is gone. Then he lets you go, and looks at you. He’s handsome. Ocean blue eyes brown hair, and he’s well built. Strong. And he is a lot taller than you. You have to look up to see his eyes.

– A beautiful girl like you, should’t walk around in this neighbourhood in the middle of the night!

The guy looks at you. Searching for an answer.

– I know. It’s just cold, and I wanted to get home fast.

He continues to search your face. Hopefully the dark hides the bruises. At least he’s not mentioning them. Instead he takes off his jacket, and puts it around your shoulders.

– I’ll walk you home. You shouldn’t be alone anywhere in this City at this time.

Normally you wouldn’t let a stranger follow you home. If it’s one thing you’ve learned through your line of work, it’s that most guys are assholes. Some even stalked you. But his jacket is warm, and he did save you, even though he didn’t have to.

You walk for a while in silence, before you look at him again. And you see that he’s only wearing a t-shirt. His muscles showing through it. Man, this guy is well built.

– Are you cold? Do you need your jacket back?

He looks at you, and your eyes meet. Man, he has blue eyes. Like the bluest you’ve ever seen. And he looks kind. Almost like a saving grace. Stop it, YN. You don’t think like this about guys. It’s usually fuck, swallow, leave. It’s easy that way. And who would want to date you anyway? You doing what you do for a living.

– It’s fine I usually don’t get cold. Where do you live?

You look at his bare arms. He doesn’t look cold. Who the fuck doesn’t get cold, night time New York this time of the year. This guy must be some sort of super human. You’ve heard about that Spider guy. Never seen him though. So you know that those super people exists. You’ve wondered several times if they are regular people. Like Clark Kent, with his alter ego Superman.

– Hey! Is something wrong? You don’t have to be afraid anymore. I’ll be happy to play your devoted boyfriend for the rest of the night.

– You don’t have to. I live right around the corner. Thank you.

You start to remove his jacket to give it back to him. But he places it back on your shoulders.

– I’ll walk you to the door. Make sure you get home safe. I’m Steve by the way. Steve Rogers!

He offers his hand. You take it. He has a firm grip, but still it shows that he has respect for women. His whole appearance feels like something from the 1940’s. It’s not often you meet guys like this these days. Most of them are total dickheads, and only wants one thing. Of course, doing what you do, you meet a lot of that kind.

– YN!

You reach your apartment, and you unlock the door. The light hits your face, and he looks at you. Fuck! The bruises after Rumlow and Rollins’ grip of your chin. He must think you were in a fight. Steve looks at you but he’s not saying anything. Maybe it’s not as bad as you think. You take off the jacket, and give ut back to him. It’s a brown leather jacket. As the rest of him, his jacket also seems to be from the 1940’s. Is he cosplaying or something?

– Thanks again, Steve. You helped me a lot.

– Damsel in distress! How can I not help?

Ok, cosplaying or just really, like REALLY old fashioned.

– Well, I think I’ll hit the shower, and then go to bed. It’s been a long night. Thanks, Steve. Again.

He puts his jacket back on, and his abs flex through his shirt. You can’t help but look. And you thought Rumlows muscles were big. Obviously you haven’t seen it all. This guy must hit the gym, like five times a day everyday.

– Remember to lock the door, mam! Have a good night!

With that he leaves, and you close and lock the door behind you. Mam? What the fuck? Good thing those guys behind you, didn’t attack him. A guy who uses the phrase mam, cannot possibly be good at fighting. Maybe with some sort of weapon from the dark ages. Jesus, you still know how to find them.

You hit the shower. Look at your body. Already black and blue from earlier. You have to see if you can use make up to cover most of them. If you show up to another job looking like this. You’ll probably be treated rough there too. But that last part. Oh God. Jenna was right. They definitely treated you right.

You dry off, and take a look at yourself in the mirror. The bruises on your face is barley visible. At least you can cover them up. Maybe you can do blow jobs only, until the bruises fade.

You put on your favorite PJs. The snoopy one. And you laugh a bit of yourself. Who would have thought that a working girl uses snoopy PJs. Well, there’s more to people than what meets the eye.

You follow your normal after a job routine. A drink and a cigarette. You usually don’t smoke. But sometimes, after special or different jobs, south as tonight. You need one. So you always have them available.

You turn on the TV. Just to see if something special has happened. But nothing special tonight. Tony Stark only. Nothing new. He’s like the face of New York by now. You usually don’t care about billionaires. But Tony is different. And you can’t help but wonder if he orders girls like you. Maybe not for sex. But, for like a date or a party or something like that. It doesn’t happen often. But you have been on jobs, where the guy only wanted you on his arm. To show you off, for like a business dinner or some stupid shit like that. Man, guys are pathetic.

You gulp the last of your drink, then you walk back into the bathroom to remove your make up, and brush your teeth.

When you drag the cleaning wipe over your jaw bones, you can see that the bruises shows more under your make up. You get closer to the mirror, to get a better look. Fuck! This is not good. You have to use a ton of make up to cover these. And it’ll probably be even worse tomorrow. You have to shop for more make up. And even then, they will probably show, at least the ones on your hips and breasts.

Perfect. Blow jobs only then. You tell yourself in the mirror to also shop for more toothpaste, before you go to bed.