Beneath our Disguises (Mature)

Deadly Expeditions (Naga x Reader)- Part 1

(Naga x Reader)

"And here, if you look closely at the hieroglyphs you can see that the edge broke off. But based on what is over here, we can assume it was."

"Let me stop you right there. Do we have a translation yet?"

"Well. . . no. But we are getting closer to."

"So then why do I care?" 

You swallow, looking up from your notes and the printed pictures you had been pointing at. Dr. Grant just looked annoyed, like this wasn't one of the most interesting points of the entire trip. Linguistics was your thing! This was why you were there, to do these translations and figure out the temple's carvings. Dr. Grant was the main archaeologist on the dig site but as far as you could tell he was just taking credit for everyone else's work to the big guy funding it.

"Because this is us getting closer to an actual translation. They are hieroglyphs, and we determined that they are closer to something developed by the Aztecs on the other side of the world with heavy influence from Sanskrit. Not to mention we."

"I. Don't. Care. " He dropped his tablet on the table, making you jump slightly and take a step back. 

"But sir we." It was a lot more pleading than you intended, but it felt like he was close to firing you from the project and this was the closest you had gotten to something like this, ever. This was a defining point in your career and he thought it was taking too long. Because the translation of a new ancient and dead language, probably as old as the Egyptian and Mayan empires on a small island off the Sri Lankan coast protected for the beautiful rainforests. It was purely by accident anyone even found the temple.

"No. Our investor is getting impatient, he poured millions into this excavation and we are running out of time. He is coming in today to check our progress and we can't do much else until you figure this out." He stands up, rubbing his hand over his black and white pepper beard, looking exhausted. But he hadn't even done anything! All he did was sit there day after day telling everyone else what they were doing wrong.

"Maybe if I talk to him. ."

"That is definitely not happening, you are not speaking to Mr. Onyx. Now, I have to go and meet him, he wants update on our progress and doesn't need to meet the girl responsible for holding us back." His chubby finger pointed at you as he picks up the tablet in his other hand. The man was ugly and misogynist and didn't believe anyone else could do what he could without even doing anything himself. You honestly suspected that his doctoral dissertation was plagiarized and his papers were stolen based on your experience with the man.

"Dr. Grant." The voice slithered up your spine and coiled in your gut, catching hold of your breath as you try to not pee your pants in fear. Whoever had just walked into the tent did it so silently even Dr. Grant facing the door had no clue. "What is this I hear about a hold up?"

"M-Mr. Onyx, I wasn't expecting you for another hour. We were supposed to be meeting in-town, not out here at the excavation site." You had never seen the Doctor so scared, his pudgy face had fallen from an angry vindictiveness to a scared little boy, jaw trembling slightly as he set down his tablet and rushed forward hand outstretched to greet the man funding everything.

"I didn't calculate the time difference and thought with my early arrival I would come out to inspect things myself." 

You turn slowly, looking up to find the intimidating Mr. Onyx. You had to admit, his name fit the man perfectly. Tall, well-built, his shaggy cut black hair was probably just above shoulder length but he had it pulled back in a sleek bun, some pieces braided with a few gold beads to highlight the look and the gold flecks in his brown eyes. His skin was a golden tan with a touch of black stubble along his sharp jaw and the black button down opened for the hot weather and humidity of the jungle revealing a bit of black tattoos etched on his chest. He filled out the shirt well, especially the sleeves rolled up to his forearms. You had the feeling you were probably gawking at the man a little.