"Oh, my god! No." You cringed in disgust, looking at yourself infront of a mirror at one of THE Chanel shops! "I don't — it's too small and...revealing." You were yet again judging your look as the feeling of insecurity pops up.

Natasha looked at you from the mirror and she scoffed. "Don't tell me you don't feel confident wearing a dress." She deadpanned and you bit your lip in embarrassment. "No, don't even think about it. It's perfect, you're perfect, besides silver looks good on you, makes you stand out, and pairs with your personality, innocent but dirty." You gaped at her use of words, and she had a smug look on her face as she held you by your shoulders as a way of reassurance.

It was a cut from lustrous luxurious heavyweight duchess satin and cleverlly panelled to create those perfect curves of yours. The oversized ruffles sat gently on your shoulders, adding drama yet sits sexily in an off-shoulder cut, highlighting your upper chest as your collar bones stands out.

You spun around to face her, "I'm not dirty," You defended, glaring at her while keeping your voice down.

"That's not what I saw the night at the bar." She smirked, knowingly and you made an eye roll.

"That was before I was a drunk me, I'm not a 'drunk' me now. I'm your intern now, and you're my boss, you shouldn't be talking to me like this...or taking me out and buying me a dress for what exactly?" You didn't look away from her and she only stepped closer.

"As far as I know, you are not my intern, Emily is your boss, I'm your superior..." She pressed a finger on your lips when you were about to cut her off as she let out a quiet 'ah' then continued. "And who says that I can't take you out and buy you a dress-"

"Me." You cut her off this time and she slightly tilted her head to the side, narrowing her eyes at you.

"Don't do that, it's disrespectful." She retorted imediately before walking away as she didn't want to give you the time to response.

You sighed, a bit frustrated before looking back at the mirror your chest going up and down as you feel yourself getting anxious, 'cause let's face it, never ever in your life you had worn something like this, and to be this as a first time is like a big step for humanity — I mean your boss, no superiour bought you a dress -is that even normal- Plus! No one had done such things to you even when your mom was still alive, rest in peace mom, anyways the point is; you need to get out of here ASAP!

You turned around once more but this time Natsha was dressed, wearing a jumpsuit (you can imagine which jumpsuit, but I'd prefer that one where she's eyeing Rachel Weisz while slightly biting her lip) Anyways, you fixed your look on the redhead.

"Why can't I wear something like that?" You questioned and she looked at you with an arch eyebrow before softening them.

"It's not your style it's mine." She answered.

"Neither this is my style." You retorted very quickly.

"Are you saying that the designers pick is horrible?" She taunted and your eyes landed on what said designer and she gave you a look of disbelief before you looked back at the redhead.

"Oh, no, no, no. It's not like that." You panicked.

"Calm down, she's just teasing you." The designer reassured as she glared at the redhead then smiled back at you. "I hate to agree with her, but she's right, you're perfect."

Time Skip

"No. I let you buy me a dress but I'm not coming in with you on that... fancy party," You eyed the mansion where the party was happening while Natasha released a heavy sigh.

"Is there a thing in your life that you say yes to?" She asked, irritably.

You looked back at her. "None," you shrugged at your words, "Miss Romanoff, I'm not that kind of girl, I can't handle pressure, especially in occasions like this."

The look on her face didn't change as if she didn't care about your problems. "Maybe if you stop overthinking it then you'd handle it perfectly. Stop worrying, Y/N, besides it's just for tonight. You'll pretend to be my date for tonight."

You scoffed, "Yeah, well, if Haley was here she'd probably kick my ass for jumping at her girlfriend or fiancée — whatever you have in between, which I don't care."

There was a tint of blush on her cheeks as she watched you get all grumpy. "She won't know," she retorted, holding out her hand for you to take. "So, what do you say? Be my date?"

You eyed her very carefully, "only for tonight."

"Only for tonight."

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