Ace of Spades [DSMP x Reader] (COMPLETED)

Chapter 1

CW: mentions of death

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Las Nevadas was great and all, but the heat was unbearable.

"Can you, like, not make me go spy on Snowchester next time?" you snapped as you slammed open the glass doors of the casino, "I'm going to get heatstroke. You don't want your favorite employee to get heatstroke, do you?"

Quackity barely glanced up from the card table. He was sorting cards into packs, each one individually. "You won't get heatstroke."

You sighed dramatically. "How can you be sure?"

"You're much too annoying to die from heatstroke."

"I guess I am!" you exclaimed, and dropped into a turning bar stool, propping your feet up on the counter, "But still, you admit I'm your favorite employee."

"You're my only employee."

"And your favorite!"

"Whatever makes you happy. We're opening at five today, so you have an extra hour before you have to play barkeeper," Quackity informed, finishing up the last of the cards, and sliding them all into a neat pile.

You grinned, saluting cheerily. "Yessir!"

You'd been up on a bluff, watching two children build walls (an incredibly boring activity) for the majority of the sweltering summer afternoon, so the cool of the hotel lobby was a relief. Charlie wasn't at the desk right now, so you just hopped over the counter, taking your suite key from a drawer. You lived on one of the ground floor rooms, nothing too fancy.

Once you'd gone to your room, showered, and changed into fancy clothes, you sat down in front of your mirror, looping your tie around your neck. Quackity insisted you had to wear one, and you'd been trying to figure out how to tie it for ages, with no luck.

Suddenly, your communicator rang, and, curious, you picked it up.

"Y/n, y/n," Quackity's voice crackled through, "There's been a change of plans."

"What? Are we opening early again?"

"No, we're opening at five still. You're no longer playing barkeeper though."

"What? Why?"

If Quackity sent you out to spy on Snowchester again, you were going to lead a worker's revolt. Build a union. Overthrow the corporation.

"Well, you're going to be a tour guide for a very special guest," Quackity said, the last three words slightly bitter.

That was new. Quackity didn't play favorites all that often, and you knew about his fairly spotty history with his friends, despite him trying to hide it. "Who is it? One of your friends?"

You could almost feel Quackity's frown through the communicator. "... No, it's not one of my friends. They're just ... important," he said darkly.

"Who?"

Quackity paused, almost as if he was searching for a lie. "You'll see when they arrive. Meet me in the lobby at five."

And with that, he hung up, the communicator clicking and buzzing in your ear.

Who was important enough to Quackity to merit a special tour? You were, to say the least, curious. Very curious.

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