Orc Boyfriend: Royal (complete)

Female Reader x Male Monster

A few months ago you got a job at the Sourpuss Studios, a tattoo parlor. Your old boss knows the owner, and lucky for you, you know one of the artists there. Dolly and you became friends online because you admired each other’s work. Working with her is amazing, and since moving, you’ve become close with her and her boyfriend Lon, who models a lot of Dolly’s work online.

Everything is fantastic about this job, except for one thing - you often work with Royal, another tattooist in the shop, an orc who brags almost nonstop about his previous job. Royal boasts about how he used to work for Millicent Chaney, a tattooist to the stars down in New Orleans. He brags about people he used to work with, all the amazing things he got to do and see while working for Millicent. It gets under your skin quite a bit. You feel that the work itself should do the talking.

Royal has made his feelings about you known as well. Since you had been hired without an interview or your work being seen, he’s skeptical of your ability. Especially since you promote your social media so much. You sent your portfolio to your new boss right away, and even Dolly spoke up for your skills. It seems hypocritical that Royal would talk down about your Instagram account, when all he does is brag about tattooing some celebrity’s ass.

“I may not have worked with any celebrities, but I’ve won some awards for my work,” you tell him one day.

Royal chuckles. “Look, just ask and I can get you an autograph anytime.”

You give him a scrunched-up, sarcastic smile. “Why don’t you just kiss my ass, Royal? That’s what I really want.”

“Not in front of the customers,” Royal coos seductively. “After work and after a few drinks.”

“Only a few?”

He winks at you. “Don’t need much to have a good time. Reminds of when Millicent took the whole staff on this river cruise and…”

“That’s enough of you two,” Dolly scolds.

It’s been a few months, and you’ve figured out an okay way of working around Royal. He’s talented, you have to admit, and good-looking when he keeps his mouth shut, though you’d never admit that to anyone.

“If he’s such a big deal, then why did he move away from New Orleans?” you grumble one day in the back room, while cleaning your kit and preparing for your next client.

Dolly looks up from her phone and shrugs. “I’m not sure. He never talks about it, just about working for Millicent Chaney. Why don’t you tell him why you moved? Maybe he’ll be a bit less priggish,” she says with a cute smirk.

You roll your eyes. “Oh sure, telling him I moved down here to take care of my dad is gonna soften his heart and make it grow three times its size. Bull.” You take a new box of gloves down from the shelf. “You and Lon got any plans this weekend?”

Dolly shrugs. “Nah. We just have a load of dishes we’re fighting over who has to wash. Wanna come over and watch?”

You laugh. “Oh no. I’m doing the same with my brother. Although I’m sure Lon doesn’t give you noogies.”

“Oh, he wouldn’t dare. I do it to him.”

The door opens and Royal comes in, looking a little rough around the edges. His eyes scream exhaustion and his hair isn’t styled like into one of those fancy braids he always has. Even his clothes are unusual. He often dresses to the nines, but today he’s wearing jeans and a plain t-shirt. “Excuse me.” His voice sounds like gravel in a blender.

“You okay, Roy?” Dolly asks, genuinely concerned. “You look like you’ve been through the wringer. Rough night or something?”

Royal makes a face, pushing his hair back from his forehead. “Anyone got a hair tie I could borrow?”

Reluctantly, you step up. “I’ve got a scrunchie.” You take a big, fluffy velvet thing from your pocket and offer it to him.

He takes it without hesitation, a big surprise for you. “Thanks. I owe you one.” He ties his hair back and sighs heavily. “Don’t worry, I’m not hungover or anything. Just running on no sleep and neck pain.”

“You got any work today?” Dolly asks while you gather your equipment to go to your chair.

“A couple of consultations, then just something small later. Lucky me,” Royal chuckles, sounding a bit more like his usual self.

“Seriously, what happened?” Dolly whispers once you're out of the room, but since your chair is so close you can still kind of hear.

“Nothing. Just a bad night.” You’ve never heard Royal sound so humble, and it kind of works for him.

Royal comes out a while later, looking a little bit better with his hair tied up in your scrunchie and his leather jacket on. He’s holding his sketch pad, drawing in it until his consultation arrives. The scrunchie looks ridiculous, but he doesn’t seem to care at all. You figure he knows how to style hair well, since he always comes in with a fancy braid, but his bun looks almost intentionally sloppy now.

Once your client comes in, you get to work right away and don't have much time to pay Royal any mind. By the end of the work day you’re stiff, and planning on sitting in a hot bath for a long time. You message your brother to ask what he’s made for dinner just as Royal comes into the room, looking more exhausted than ever after the long day. He takes the scrunchie from his hair and hands it back to you. “Thanks.”

“Sure, no problem.” You take it, stuffing it into your back pocket. “Rough night, huh? Was it a girl?” you tease.

“You could say that.” Royal pours himself the last bit of coffee in the pot and drinks it down. “Probably going to be another rough one.”

“Uh-oh, trouble in paradise?”

He gives you a look, and you step back. “You're still mooching off Dolly and her boyfriend?”

“I was never mooching,” you scoff. “They invited me over, since I’m their friend.”

“Being a third wheel is fun, isn’t it? Get all the benefits of a relationship without having to put in any of the work,” he says with a satisfied smile.

“Excuse me?” You glare him down.

“Shame you don’t have a partner of your own, isn’t it?” he winks. “Been here for months and still haven’t hooked up.”

You have to laugh. This is so ridiculous. “That’s none of your business.”

“But my night is yours?”

You clam up and nod. “Okay. You got me.”

Royal chuckles and combs his fingers through his hair. “Next time you wanna gossip, be sure to bring your own to the table to share.”

“Yeah, yeah,” you grumble, unwilling to admit this small defeat.

“Now that you know the score, have a good night.” Royal waves over his shoulder as he leaves the studio.

Before you leave, your brother messages you to pick up a few things for him and your dad at the drugstore. You figure you’ll treat yourself and get some epsom salts for your soak that evening. The drugstore has a different feel this evening - the lights have a different hue that makes the store feel like a lonesome painting hanging on a motel wall. You kind of enjoy the moody atmosphere, the sluggish people wandering around trying to escape home with the excuse of aspirin or bandaids.

You get what you need, then go to find the epsom salts. Passing by the feminine hygiene aisle, you see something curious. There, kneeling and picking out pads, is Royal. He’s on the phone talking to someone, probably his rough night, and he catches you looking. You stand still, hoping he won’t see you if you don’t move, but he scowls at you and quickly picks up the package of pads, tucking them under his arm. He tries to walk past you, but you speak up.

“Those suck!” Royal stops in his tracks. Unsure of yourself, you know you have to either defend your remark or run. “They give me a rash, and they say they’re for nights, but they leak when you move.”

Royal turns, his thick, pierced brows pinched as he stares at you, both exhausted and irritated by your presence. “The, um...” You peer into the aisle. “The yellow pack there. They’re natural cotton, so they don’t irritate the um… the vulva bits and… I use them, so…”

Royal turns around, still looking at you like a cat yowling on a fence. He looks at the pads under his arm and sighs heavily. “I have no idea what I’m doing.”

“Okay,” you say slowly. “What’s… what’s the situation? What do you need them for?”

Royal hands you the pack, and you put it away. He sighs heavily as he looks over the pack you recommended. “My niece is having her first period.”

Your eyes widen and your mouth opens. “Oh, okay! That’s, yeah, that’s cool. I mean it’s not, but…” You stop. “Would you like some help?”

Royal rubs his face and shakes his head. “I could use it. There’s only so much I can do.”

“How old is she?”

“Ten,” Royal grumbles.

You nod and pick up a bottle of Midol. “This will help if she’s cramping. Also, we should get something to cheer her up. Maybe a cute stuffed animal? A doll?”

“Do you know how to get blood out of sheets?” Royal asks. “She’s… freaked out about ruining mine.”

“Yeah, cold water, baking soda, a little vinegar and some dish soap.” You feel so awkward, never having had a real conversation with Royal before. “I’ve bled through quite a few sheets and towels in my day,” you say to reassure him. “It’s normal. Natural, even.”

He gives you a faint smile. “Tell her that,” he chuckles weakly.

“I will, if she needs someone to talk to.” You help him pick out a few more things. “Is her mom not around?”

Royal shakes his head. “I’m not up to talking about that right now.”

“Oh. Look, just, put on her favorite movie, reassure her she’s fine, all these horrible feelings will go away, and that, yeah, periods suck.”

“Thanks.” Royal sighs. “You, um...you saved me tonight.”

You nervously smile. “Glad I could help.”

“Can you message me how to clean those sheets?” he asks.

You nod. “But I don’t have your number.”

“Give me your phone.” He holds out his big hand out and you place your phone in it. He adds his contact, then hands it back over. “Don’t abuse it.”

There’s the Royal you know. “This is the first and last text I’ll send you,” you smirk.

That evening, after sitting with your dad and helping your brother clean the kitchen, you sink into a hot bath and groan as all your body melts into the water. Your hair is tied up and away so you can relax with a cheap beer. Your phone chimes, and you see that Royal has replied. “It worked great! She’s so happy.”

“Buy some black sheets for when she’s on her period. If it stains, you won’t see it.”

“Smart idea. She told me to say thank you.”

“Anything for another survivor of the uterus.”

After that your phone goes silent, and you go back to relaxing in your tub, although you can’t help but  think about Royal and his niece. Is he her guardian? Is she the reason he left New Orleans? You moved for very similar reasons, helping your brother take care of your dad. You two probably aren’t so different if that’s the case.

The next day, Royal is already at work when you arrive and back to his usual self. His hair is plaited in a beautiful fishtail braid, and he’s dressed in tight pinstripe pants with a matching vest and perfectly-placed tie. “Don’t we look purty today?” you tease as you put your things into your locker.

“I feel purty,” he says, striking a pose. “Thanks again for last night. But do you mind keeping it…”

“On the down low? Sure,” you say with a shrug.

Royal inches closer. “Um, this is kind of weird to ask, but…”

You take out disinfectant spray to clean your work area. “I helped you pick out pads last night, so we’re not weird anymore.”

Royal smiles shyly. “It’s just that Mia doesn’t have anyone to talk to, and…” He grimaces. “Well, we’ve not gotten along so far, so it’s weird for me to ask you for help.”

You huff and nod. “Yeah, I get that. But I think we can set that aside for an evening if you need someone to talk to your niece. But you’re closer with Dolly, so why not ask her?”

“I haven’t told anyone about Mia,” Royal confesses. “I know it sounds stupid, but it’s hard for me to talk about. I don’t want to talk about why I’m raising Mia.”

“I understand,” you murmur. You’ve not exactly told anyone about your dad or brother either. “I’m not gonna say shit. But I guess that’s why you’re always bragging about Millicent Chaney.”

“Yeah,” Royal sighs.

You nod, glad that the studio is so quiet at this time of day. But it’s also a bit awkward, and you feel the need to speak up. “So... Mia?”

“Yeah, she’s…” Royal chuckles and touches his hair. “She wants to be a hair stylist and makeup artist when she grows up.”

“Oh! That explains the braids.”

“Every morning,” he laughs. “It’s why I don’t cut it.” He realizes he’s sharing personal information, and his olive skin darkens. “She’ll love your hair.” He clears his throat.

You smile and nod. “I can come over Sunday and talk with her, if that’ll make you feel better. I’ll even take her to an Ulta Beauty or something.”

Royal sighs with such relief that even his chest seems to sink in. “That would be so great! Those places scare the shit out of me.”

You smirk. “A pretty boy like you? C’mon, you’d fit right in.” You go out to clean your workstation. “You never let her put makeup on you?”

“I only let her have lip glosses. She’s ten, I barely like her having a phone.” He takes a wipe and cleans off his chair.

“I started wearing eyeliner when I was seven, I think,” you tell him. “And when I say I looked like a panda, I am not doing it justice.”

He looks at you in surprise, a smile on his face. “I don’t believe you.”

“It was awful. My mom let me out of the house like that because she believed children need to express themselves.” You laugh at the memory.

“Your eyeliner looks amazing now,” he says.

You blush a bit. “Practice and a slap in the face when I was thirteen.”

“I used to have the… the emo hair,” Royal confesses.

You look at him in disbelief and have a short guffaw. “No.” He nods. “Prove it,” you scoff.

Royal shakes his head. “When you show me a picture of you pretending to be a panda, I’ll show you my Emo phase.”

You bite back your smile, enjoying your first conversation with Royal ever. “It’ll be a cold day in hell.”

“Cold day it is.” Royal winks.

You watch him, finding him a touch more attractive. “If you had the hair, then did you ever wear any eyeliner?”

Royal looks up, smiling from ear to ear. He looks, dare you think it, sexy. “Let’s just say, whatever Gerard Way did my mother had to convince me not to do. That’s all I’m going to say on the subject.”

You slink up closer to him. “Do you have an My Chemical Romance tattoo somewhere under all those fancy clothes?”

He gives you a look, smarming up to you. “You’ll never see me naked enough to know, and I will never say it.”

You bite back your smile. “Ten-four, then.”

“Get back to work and stop flirting with me,” he teases.

You laugh and grab another wipe to mop up the headrest of the chair. “I like you better today. When do you start bragging again?”

“Once someone else gets here.” Royal sighs. “I’ve decided to tell the story about the day a certain actor wanted me to tattoo his inner thigh, and I saw all of him.”

You make a face. “Dick, too?”

“I said all of it.” Royal winks.

You get back to work, welcoming your first customer. The day goes by as it usually does, and nothing seems strange, but when you take a break Dolly has questions. “You two are being nice today. Did something happen?” she asks.

“He must have slept on the wrong side of the bed or something.” You say as you wash up. “Why do you ask?”

Dolly glances behind her. “Dunno. I just saw him looking at you in a funny way, that’s all.”

“Funny way?” You purse your brow. “How funny?”

Dolly shrugs, then gives you a grin. “Hallmark-movie funny.”

You turn to see Royal talking to his client, telling them how to care for their new ink. You know you’re beginning to blush, so you quickly slap on a frown and turn away. “Well, that’s his problem isn’t it?”