Profit Margin (Criminal AU) (WayV x Reader)

Hidden Treasures

Chapter warnings: none

Word count: 1300

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It took Y/N more than a few minutes to make herself presentable. She started by drying her hair, taking the time to style it how she normally would, which wasn't as easy a process as one would expect. After that, she begrudgingly applied makeup. It wasn't that she didn't like it, (although she believed that no woman should be expected to wear makeup), she just didn't like the idea of getting ready to be... well, sold.

Once she was satisfied with that, she looked to the dresses. On the one hand, she didn't want to satisfy Hendery by wearing the blue dress. Just the thought of it tasted poorly in her mouth. Lucas did warn her against crossing him, though... And on top of that, he had insinuated that she was too big to fit in it. What a jerk. Glaring at it, she grabbed it by the collar. It couldn't hurt to try.

Pulling it on and wiggling into it, she adjusted it by the waist, twisting the garment left and right. She didn't want to look in the mirror... Finally, she drew her eyes up, looking over herself. The dress was tight fitting at the top, with a strange, semi-translucent lace texture. That being said, it still adequately covered her personal areas. That same lace cloth wrapped around and turned into the overlay for the skirt, which was long in the back and party length in the front. The whole thing was a deep, royal blue, complementing her skin tone much more nicely than she expected. It tied with an asymmetrical ribbon around the waist, made of the same, matte blue fabric as the main skirt. It was beautiful, and she hated it.

She had never been too confident with herself. She had her high and low days. Some days, mirrors weren't that bad, and others, she wished she could blind herself after looking at her image. She hadn't worn a dress in a while. Seeing it intricacies, the fitting, it made her hate herself. She knew it should be the least of her concern, considering the situation, but she couldn't help it. She had to stave off the urge to cry for fear of ruining her makeup.

At this moment, she heard a knock on the door, a sound with a familiarly heavy weight.

"Y/N? Are you almost ready? It's getting kinda late."

"I, uh..." She swallowed, trying to get rid of the shakiness in her voice. "I need to put shoes on."

"Oh! I forgot. Here, we'll come pick you out some." She didn't want to leave the room. After a moment, he called again, quieter this time, as if soothing a frightened animal. "Y/N?"

"Y-yeah, I'm coming." She forced herself to reach for the doorhandle, every cell in her body fighting against her will. She knew Lucas wouldn't open the door on her- she had to go. She grabbed the handle, pulling down faster than she could psych herself out. He was standing a few feet away, just enough to be out of the way. Making eye contact, he looked her over.

"Good, it fits perfectly. You look great!" A day ago, she would have loved to hear that from him. Now, it was just unsettling, if not depressing. "Now let's find you some shoes!" He led her to the back half of his room, where there were two smaller openings. The first was a single black door, and the other was a set of double doors. He moved to open the double doors, holding one open so that she was able to walk in freely before him.

It was dark inside, but it smelled like perfume and laundry detergent. The room felt airy... What was this? He wasn't going to try anything, was he? No, if he were planning on it, he would have done it by now. So what, then? He said they were going to get shoes, so- Just as she thought though the logical steps, he flipped the light on, lighting up the space.

The room was much longer than she expected, but only had room for one person to walk down the center comfortably. The walls were completely lined with all types of female clothing. There were dresses, skirts, blouses, a few pants and shorts, some... undesirably creepy garments as well. Underneath these hangers, there were rows and rows of shoes. It was incredible- it looked bigger than any dressing room she'd ever seen. Could she even see the end of the hall? How big was this building in total?

"Everything's organized by size. Do you know what shoe size you might be?" She wasn't completely sure, but she took her best guess, and followed him as they walked down. Eventually, they stopped as Lucas faced her towards the left, gesturing down to the shoes.

"Alright, this is what we've got around that size. There aren't many colors that don't go with blue, but I'd maybe stick to black or white?" She looked down quickly, just picking out whatever shoes fell into her line of sight.

"Just the black flats are fine." He laughed a bit weakly.

"That's uh, not gonna fly. You're gonna want heels, or else Hendery's gonna pick your shoes for you. You do not want that." Looking down as well, he knelt, picking out something. As he did so, he pulled out a bench from under the hanging clothes, something that she hadn't seen until he did so. Stepping back, he silently offered her the place to sit down. She did so, watching confusedly as he knelt at her feet. As he grabbed her ankle softly, she stumbled.

"I- I can do that myself-"

"It's not appropriate for a lady to kneel or open her knees in front of a man. It's no trouble, really." He slipped it onto her foot, finally giving her a good look at the shoe. It was black, fitting the shape of her foot with a sleek, strapped design. Honestly, there was barely any shoe at all. Over the main strap, there was a dainty black velvet flower.

"It's a touch-me-not flower." He said as he buckled the shoe on the side, noting her stare. "I mean, the real scientific name is mimosa... pudica, I think? Don't hold me to that. Anyway, they're really pretty, I think they suit you." A touch-me-not. How ironic. He easily did the other shoe- it broke her heart to think about how many people he'd done this to. How many girls had been through this closet, made up in that bathroom? How many had made it out?

Standing, he offered her a hand to get up. Reluctantly taking it, she stood, trying to get her footing. She hadn't worn heels in a while, either. They weren't unfathomably tall or thin, but it was still uncomfortable. He let her hold onto his elbow as he led her to the elevator, evidently not concerned with her running away. He shut the door behind him, taking her up. The buttons were still unlabeled, but as far as she could remember they were going further up than the conference room floor.

"Where are we going?" She asked.

"Kun's office." So she was right, that hadn't been his office. She knew it would be too bare. "He takes the clients up there, it's a bit nicer. Obviously it's very official, but it's more welcoming than the meeting rooms." She had so many questions. Why did he live in the basement? Where were the others? Was this their permanent home, or a functioning base that outshot from the original? Who would be there? What was the client like?

She didn't have time to ask anything before the elevator doors slid open again.