Natasha Romanoff oneshots gxg

To Be Cherished...

Plus size reader(Tried to keep it free of too much description to keep it accessible to a larger crowd of people, but really it's supposed to come as a comfort for the "bigger" girls who are treated as after thoughts. 🥺)

Smut:

Thigh Riding (Nat) , Fingering (R), Oral (R), Double Sided Strap (N/R), Daddy Kink

Heads Up Buttercups: 8857 Words 💋
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Natasha locked the door to her apartment, and set off into the night for a much needed escape. The world could most certainly survive if the Black Widow took a night off, and it's not like they had been given much of a choice anyways. Natasha was craving human interaction, the kind that was free of expectation, so off to the bar she went.

The attention she craved tonight wasn't necessarily promiscuous, but she would be lying to say she had sworn it off all together. Her outfit was slightly reserved, but it was also incredibly form fitting, with a classy view of her cleavage leaving hardly anything to the imagination.

Your outfit was quite the opposite, as you were forced into the skimpiest of clothes for this bartending gig. The tube top, and black jean booty shorts barely contained your figure, truthfully doing nothing but to make you incredibly uncomfortable. Your gapless thighs would uncomfortably rub against each other as you maneuvered behind the bar at an efficient pace, leaving behind "chub rub" most nights. Then your far from toned stomach was visible to every patron served, and their eyes never failed to roam the entirety of your body.

Being a bigger woman you always anticipated the stares, people would be "inconspicuously" ogling your 'assets', then reimagining them on the toned blonde two stools down. You were also more than accustomed to the backhanded compliments from desperate patrons nearing last call, having yet to leave with someone.

"You're beautiful... for a girl your size, want to get outta here?"

Your response always came in the form of a tight lipped smile, and a firm 'no thank you.' Even though all you'd wanted to do in the moment was sucker punch the asshole, while simultaneously bursting into tears. Alas, you had bills to pay, and couldn't afford to lose your place—your kitty baby depended on you. The reminder that you graduated in a little under a year was all that really got you through your shifts anymore.

Natasha could hear the music roaring from a whole street down as she slowly approached the designated party block. The streets were flooded with plastered college kids trying to forget their studies as they bar hopped, and the older crowd was glued to their stool as they worked to drown out their worries. Natasha found amusement in observing the everyday people; stressing over such trivial occurrences that many of them had a hand in choosing for themselves.

If only she'd had the same problems...

She entered the first bar she saw, instantly regretting it as it appeared to be for a much younger crowd. It didn't take much for her to see their intentions were to engage in illegal activities, and she's not interested in having to be a narc so she swiftly retreated. The next few bars were busts as well, full of crowds of dull looking individuals, who make people watching entirely too mundane, so she continued on in her search.

She'd eventually settled upon the Hooter-esque bar—"The Glory Hole"—that left its workers in skimpy fits, with an array of patrons from all walks of life. Entirely too amused by the topless men in booty shorts, prancing around the establishment with pen pads and trays, she nearly missed the women behind the counter. Prissy overachievers was her first thought, as she vaguely heard their exaggerated giggles, but then her eyes made their way to you.