I love monsterfucking, but I would love some more monster~fluffing~ tbh. cuddling with a monster, grooming and being groomed (in the hygiene/styling sense of the word) by a monster, reading with a monster, kissing a massive monster on the nose.
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The light nature of season 6 is portrayed in a very sweet way in this pair of stories that highlight how much Mulder and Scully really, really like each other. "Promise" fleshes out a scene related to the episode Tithonus that's brought up in "Purpose," so in a way it's a prequel and could be read first even though it was originally written and posted second.
Title: Purpose and Promise
Author: Dreamshaper
Summary: We got grimy motel sheets, reasons, promises, answers, and apparently random questions--but it's all about fulfilling a purpose. / Mulder's bedside vigil.
Length: 22k (~3,900 words) / 11k (~1,950 words)
Classification: MSR
Rating: R / PG
Spoilers: Tithonus, Triangle
Favorite line: In contrast, her hair against the pillow was on fire, dangerously red like blood, like a sunset--a thousand poetic images to describe something he often took for granted.
Read Purpose and Promise!
Helena refused to think too hard about her date. She didn’t allow herself to fret over what to wear, to be anxious about what would happen, or to fixate on whether or not she should trim any particular region’s body hair. At least, she tried not to think too hard or fret too much or fixate too often. She ended up putting on a fae-made green velour dress that fell past her knees, which she paired with her smartest pair of black boots. She had already concluded that the evening would likely involve dinner and some kissing and that was it, and so decided not to trim anything up, as there would be no one seeing her she’d feel the need to impress. Ten minutes to 6:00 p.m., she looked at herself in her full-length mirror, and was content. She looked nice. She smelled good. Any man would be lucky to have her.
She had managed to keep most of this confidence when there was a knock at her door at exactly 6:00 p.m. She checked her reflection a final time and then opened the door for her guest.
“Hello,” Alex said warmly.
“Hello,” Helena replied. “Do you want to come in?”
It was a tight fit, but Alex carefully stepped into her living room and turned to face her.
“Your place is a bit small, isn’t it,” he teased.
Helena rolled her eyes. “It fits me just fine. But I’ll grab my coat and scarf and we can get going. I assume we’re walking?”
“Unless you know how to ride,” Alex said with a wink.
She blushed. “I’m fine walking.” She couldn’t even imagine the alternative.
“You look beautiful, by the way.”
Helena smiled. “So do you.”
It was true. Alex was wearing another beautifully made woolen sweater, this time a rich blue that bordered on black. Underneath the sweater he’d also donned a light gray dress shirt. His gray hair had been put once more into a braid, although this time it was a far more intricate weaving pattern.
“Is it a long walk?” Helena asked after locking her door on their way out.
“Fifteen minutes or so. I was being sincere, by the way. I don’t mind carrying you if you’re comfortable.”
“I think I’ll be all right.” Helena had specifically chosen a longer dress and boots that would accommodate warmer socks for this express purpose. Besides, she enjoyed a walk.
It helped that it was not snowing. It had snowed that morning, but stopped sometime that afternoon. The snow on the ground was still fresh and white, the roads far less busy than normal given the holiday. It was very much a winter wonderland, everything illuminated by fairy light and the moon that was near-full in the sky. Helena kept close to Alex as they walked and talked, and felt a swell of warmth despite the chill.
The fifteen or so minutes passed quickly. Alex was easy to talk to. He was easy to laugh with. He was easy to like. Helena followed him into his home and was comfortable quickly, because Alex continued to make things easy. The dinner he’d prepared of stew and roasted vegetables with fresh bread was delicious and filling, and Helena could easily see herself returning for another meal. She wanted to. They ate at his kitchen table, Alex sitting on the floor on plush mat for his knees and Helena in a chair, and every so often he took her hand in his and stroked her knuckles. It was easy to touch him. To be touched by him. Helena’s cheeks felt perpetually flushed with warmth, in part because of the mulled wine Alex had served her, but in larger part because of the way that Alex kept caressing the pulse point at her wrist.
She felt an intimacy growing quickly between them. She still didn’t know much about him, nor had she shared everything about herself, but their conversation continued to flow naturally.
“You’re making this very easy,” she said quietly.
Alex leaned back. “Is that all right? Am I moving too quickly?”
Helena shook her head and took Alex’s hand in her own. “No, that’s not what I meant at all. I’m having a great time. To be honest, I don’t want you to leave tomorrow.”
The centaur sighed, relieved. “I’ll be back. It was never intended to be a long trip away.”
Helena’s eyes drifted to his lips as he spoke. They looked soft. Easy to kiss.
He must have had the same idea, because as Helena considered leaning in to see how soft they really were, Alex said, “Would it be moving too quickly to ask if I can kiss you now?”
Because Helena liked to be contrary, she replied, “And if I said no?”
Her words had the desired effect. Alex huffed and smiled the way she’d hoped he would, and then said, “I suppose I’d have to resist.”
“Then it’s lucky for you that you don’t have to.” She bridged the distance between them.
Alex’s lips were soft, and he turned out to be a very good kisser. His mouth moved against hers slowly, a delicious pressure. Helena was overwhelmed by the heat of it at first, despite having been the one to initiate, and she had no idea where to put her hands. Alex’s had found her waist, his strong fingers gripping at her sides. When his tongue pressed against her mouth, it was as easy as breathing to open herself up to him.
He looked as dazed as Helena felt when he pulled back from her, the pupils of his green eyes blown wide, his lips parted and shining. “Holy Oak, your gorgeous, Helena.”
She reached for him again, hands taking his face and pulling him towards her.
It felt good to be kissed. Helena’s body was heated and heaving for Alex’s hands, and when he placed one at her back and one at her ribs, she didn’t think twice before taking one of her hands from his face and using it to guide his up over the swell of her breast.
“Am I the one moving too fast now,” she breathed, forehead resting against Alex’s. “You did say historically this isn’t the pace you take.”
“You’ve inspired a new leaf. This is too fast for me only if you don’t want things to go any further.”
Helena felt a string of panic. “I can’t have—I haven’t been taking anything.”
He understood. “That still leaves an awful lot on the table, if you’re interested.”
She was.
“Then take your clothes off,” she ordered. “I mean, you’re already half-naked. What’s with that, by the way?”
Alex laughed. “Let’s unpack my dressing habits later.” He stood, towering over Helena, and then scooped her up into his arms. “For now, let’s move this to the couch.”
He carried Helena as if she weighed nothing, and then set her down gently on the couch in his living room.
“Why do you even have this?” she couldn’t help but ask.
“The place came furnished, and it’s nice for my non-existent guests. Now, tell me again what you want?”
She looked up at him. “To see you. All of you.”
Alex wasted no time in pulling off his sweater and then tearing at his dress shirt. Buttons popped as he tugged at them, and Helena felt exhilarated at the sound of each one clattering on the hardwood floor. In a moment that felt both impossibly long and short at the same time, Alex was entirely naked in front of her.
“Better?” he asked.
Helena looked up and down the planes of chest, appreciating the salt and pepper hair that covered his pectorals, trailing down to where his body transitioned from man to horse, and shrugged noncommittally. “I guess it’s not really that much of a difference.”
Alex clucked his tongue. “You’re mean.” He knelt down so he could be closer to eye level. “And are you getting naked or not?”
Helena looked at him, her hands drifting to his chest. “This dress unzips in the back.”
“Then stand up.”
She did, and then faced away from him slowly. She felt his hand trail up her back, felt it push aside her hair, felt it come back down to the top of her dress. She heard the snick of the zipper as he began to pull it downwards, the feather-light touch tickling along her spine. Rip it off! she wanted to scream. I want you to see me! But aloud, Helena said nothing. She bit her lip and waited as patiently as she could for Alex to finish unfastening her dress and it tug it off of her body.
“Next time we do this, I’m going to fuck you,” he said quietly against her ear, making Helena jump. She’d had no idea he’d moved in so close.
“You’re awfully confident,” she said back. “What if you’re a lousy lay?”
Finally, Alex pulled the dress from her shoulders, and then all the way down to the ground, leaving her exposed in her underwear and tights. She stared into the fabric of his couch as his fingers deftly unhooked her bra.
“I’m not,” he said, turning her around to face him, and then pulling her bra entirely away.
The brush of air against her nipples had them pebbling quickly. Her breath hitched when Alex kneeled in front of her. Her chest rose and fell with anticipation. Standing fully while Alex kneeled meant Helena was taller than him. His head came up to her chest, which she was even more aware of when Alex pulled her closer to him. He looked up at her through his lashes and kissed her naked sternum.
“Tell me what you want,” he said. “Please.”
“I want—I want—” Her words stalled in her throat. She wanted everything. She didn’t know where to start. “I want you to suck.”
He took a nipple in his mouth immediately. Helena’s hands wrapped around his neck and head as she audibly gasped and pressed him harder against her without thinking. Alex worked her like no one had before. His lips pulsed rhythmically around her, his tongue lapped in time. Alex used one hand to massage at the part of her breast that didn’t fit in his mouth, and the other to slip down the back of her tights and panties to grab at her ass. In response, Helena’s hips began to grind fruitlessly against what part of Alex they could reach. There was no fiction to be had, but a pleasure in seeking it out all the same.
Alex moved from one nipple to the other, and the pleasure began anew. It was maddening. It was wonderful. It was nowhere near enough. Helena’s hands scrabbled at his shoulders, wanting to touch more of him, to feel more of his skin. She wanted to let her hands roam over his back and down, down to the rest of him. To feel his beautifully patterned fur under her finger tips. To feel the brush of his tail. To see and feel the length of him.
“I need to touch you,” she said, voice weak. “Let me?”
Alex released her nipple and looked up at her. “How do you want me?”
Helena thought about it. “Standing, maybe?”
He nodded and stood quickly. He looked a wanton mess as he moved. His cheeks were flushed, his lips were swollen, and when he raised himself up, Helena could clearly see his unsheathed cock hanging heavy and full between his legs.
“Holy shit,” she said.
Alex looked down at himself, and then back at Helena.
“It is a bit…well—maybe I should have asked if you’ve ever been with a centaur before?”
Helena shook her head. “No, this is a first.”
Alex placed his hands on either side of Helena’s face. “Please don’t worry about…anything. You don’t have to touch me there if you aren’t ready.”
“I want to touch you there,” she said quickly, her own hands rising to rest on Alex’s hips. “I’m not sure what I was expecting. You took me by surprise.”
Alex chuckled. “I seem to remember telling you my kind were blessed by Priapus. I can’t help if you didn’t believe me.”
“Rude centaur.” She stood up, becoming eye-level with his chest. Then she moved to his side.
It felt somehow different to touch Alex here than on his bare chest, despite the fact that his chest was the part of himself that had been the least on display since she had met him. Helena wondered if that was because his human chest was still more of a known entity to her than his equine half, even though she’d seen it repeatedly. She’d had little experience with horses before she was stollen, and was unsure of what to expect as she gingerly placed her hands against Alex’s side and curled her fingers in the short fur she found there.
“Is it terribly unkind if I admit that you’re softer than I thought you’d be?” She moved to rest her cheek alongside her hands.
“No,” he answered. “I’m glad you like the way I feel.”
“I do.” She removed her cheek and continued her exploration, her hands stroking slowly down to Alex’s flank.
“You’re quite close to my ass, you realize,” he said. There was an unsteadiness to his voice that told Helena he was excited by that fact.
She snorted. “I do, thank you.” She moved her hand down underneath his belly, dangerously close to something else.
“What about now?” she asked.
For a moment, Alex didn’t reply. Helena waited with her hand poised just under his cock, waiting for permission to proceed.
“Please touch me,” Alex gritted out. “For the love of Hawthorn, please touch me.”
“Since you said please,” Helena murmured, taking Alex solidly in one hand.
He was laughably large. Helena had to fight back a laugh when she moved her palm down to the base of him, and realized she could not close her hand. Still, Alex’s cock was lovely, and only a little strange. While it was impossibly wide at its base, it was more reasonable as it tapered down to its head. And while Helena had been expecting something entirely horse-like based on the books she may or may not have perused while at work, Alex’s cock was more like a regular human’s once she got past the girth and length of it.
Above her, Alex shifted on his front legs. “I’m begging you to do something other than just hold it like that. Helena, love, please.”
“I’m sorry,” she said. “It’s just. Priapus has given me a lot to take in.”
“Try using two hands.”
It was sound advice. Helena took Alex in both hands and began to work him.
“Oh, fuck,” he said as she worked, and Helena had to smile at his use of human slang.
“Is this all right?” she asked as she gripped him, one hand sliding down to massage the head and collect some of his wetness.
“Very,” Alex said. He shuddered as her finger encircled the tip. “Holy Oak, Helena.”
Helena didn’t imagine her fumblings were that impressive, but she appreciated Alex’s emphatic support. She continued to move up and down his shaft, thumbs working over his slit to milk out more of his pleasure.
“Can I try something else?” Helena asked after a few minutes.
Alex laughed shakily. “Helena, you have my permission to try whatever strikes you.”
“I want to finish undressing first.” She was feeling a little ridiculous still wearing her tights and shoes.
“Excellent idea,” agreed Alex. “Sit on the couch and I’ll do it for you.”
She followed his direction and sat back on the couch. She watched Alex kneel in front of her again and then bend to undo her boots. She leaned back and admired as he carefully set them aside and removed her socks, and she gasped when—instead of pulling down her tights with the same care—Alex simply ripped them off of her.
“I liked those tights,” she said, eyes wide.
“I’ll buy you any number of new ones.” Then he leaned in and kissed her.
This kiss was not like their first. It was harried and messy. Desperate. Alex wedged a hand between them as he kissed her and moved it down to her stomach.
“Can I?”
“Jesus, yes. Sorry I didn’t trim things up for you.”
Alex scoffed. “I don’t think I could care any less about that.” He looked down at her, his fingers spreading open her center. “I think your cunt looks perfect.” He kissed her again.
Helena knew she was going to be wet, but even she was surprised by the obscene sound of Alex circling his fingers around her clit.
“Do you hear that?” he growled against her mouth. “I think I could slip my fingers inside of you without a hint of resistance.”
Helena fought for control of her breath and gritted out, “Prove it.”
It was hardly a challenge. Alex sat back and threw one of Helena’s legs over his shoulders, and immediately—and easily—slid two fingers into her dripping pussy.
“See,” he said with a grin. “Easy.”
“Fuck, Alex.”
It was good. Not nearly so good as his cock would feel whenever they got to that point, but still altogether wonderful. Alex fucked his fingers inside of her with purpose and practice. He knew where to apply pressure and when to pull back. And he knew—he had to have known—that as soon as he pressed his mouth against the bud of her clit, it would be game over for Helena’s orgasm. One lap of his tongue, and Helena felt her earth tilt slightly off its axis. It was a deliciously dirty trick.
“Alexandros,” she said as her body shook through its release. And shook, and shook, and shook.
The aftershocks were still rolling through her when Alex gently he set down her leg and moved back into her space. “At your service, love.”
“No,” she said with an unsteady shake of her head. “It’s my turn. It was supposed to have been my turn in the first place.”
“I’d say sorry, but I’m not. Watching you come was a glorious thing.”
She pushed at his chest. “I want to see you do the same.”
He leaned in for another kiss. “All right, Helena. I’m at your disposal.”
She knew exactly what she needed him to do. “Get your front legs up on the back of the couch.”
It took a little effort, and there was one accidental nudge against Alex’s member that had him gasping at the unexpected touch, but he managed to position himself with his front legs resting on the back of the couch so Helena would have easy access to the part of him she wanted. It was a little awkward, she could admit, Alex’s face entirely out of sight, and the bulk of her visibility blocked out by his groin, but the moment Helena placed the head of Alex’s cock between her lips, and felt the whole-body shudder that ran through him as a result, all awkwardness was forgotten.
Though the head of Alex’s cock was smaller than the base, she still felt the size of him. She couldn’t fit much more than the head in her mouth, and even that was testing her limits, but the heft against her tongue was electric. She sucked as best she could, hands priming his shaft for release. The taste of his pre-cum filled her mouth, the mix of it and her spit dripped down her chin as she pulled him out momentarily to breathe. She was aroused again by the entire experience, made more intense by the obvious way that Alex struggled to maintain composure.
Helena could tell he was fighting to buck his hips. Every few seconds he shifted on his back legs, forcing Helena to grip tighter to his cock to keep it from moving too deeply down her throat.
“I’m sorry,” Alex said, voice thick with desire. “I’m trying to stay still. It’s just, your mouth—” His hips attempted to buck again.
“It’s okay,” she said, stroking under his side. “I like seeing you like this.”
She moved the head of his cock against her lips, painting her mouth and chin further with the wetness there. Then she dragged the tip down, raising her breast to meet it, her nipple grazing his slit.
“Holy Oak, Helena,” he said again. “I’m close.”
Helena considered this. “Can you—can you kneel down some?”
Alex’s only response was to do exactly that. Helena shifted herself as well, spreading her legs wider on the couch and pushing her hips upward.
“I just want to feel this for a moment,” she said, moving Alex’s length down her chest and stomach, and then down further still, all the way to where his mouth had been minutes before.
“Helena—” he moaned as she pressed the tip against her clit.
She let it sit for only a moment before dragging the head of him down her pussy once, then twice, then a third and final time.
“I can’t wait until you’re inside me,” she said as she moved his cock back up to her face. “But for now, my mouth.”
She took him between her lips again. She could taste herself on the head, a heady combination of flavors. Above her, Alex fought harder to keep from fucking deeper into her mouth. She could hear his staccato breath and feel the way he pulled himself back immediately after every time he jerked uncontrollably forward. Part of her wanted him to stop fighting it. The part of her overwhelmed with desire for him, to have him as fully as she could, wanted him to simply fuck into her mouth with abandon, caution be damned. She knew she couldn’t take him, but she wanted to try. She had to fight her own urges as determinedly as Alex was fighting his.
It was an unsustainable kind of pleasure. When Helena felt Alex begin to groan, when she felt a pulse through his cock in her hands and mouth, she knew what was about to happen. She pressed her tongue along the underside of the head a final time before beginning to pull him out of her mouth. She wasn’t fast enough. The tip was still barely between her lips when his orgasm hit, his thick and copious cum filling her mouth and running out the sides of it. He was still coming when she pulled him fully away, the warm wetness of his seed spilling onto her chin and her chest and her stomach. Helena could do nothing but laugh at the mess of it.
“Holy Ash, Alex.”
Carefully, Alex moved off the couch and collapsed on the floor in front of it. His head rested against Helena’s knee. “Holy Ash, indeed. All are you all right?”
Helena smiled and stroked his head, letting her fingers dance over the strands of his braid and run gently over the backs of his ears. “I’m wonderful,” she said. “Sticky, but wonderful.”
Below her, Alex huffed. “I should have warned you.”
“I did some research,” she said. “I mostly knew what to expect.” She looked down at herself, surprised all over again at just how much Alex had coated her. “You really did make a mess of me.”
“And the couch, too, I’m sure.” Alex ran a hand up and down her shin. He tilted his head to look up at her. “Will you stay the night with me?”
Helena’s cheeks warmed. “As long as you let me clean up first.”
Alex snorted. “A fair trade. That was wonderful, by the way.”
Helena yawned, the events of the evening catching up with her. “Yes, it was. And I’ll say this, Alexandros: this was probably the best Solstice night I’ve ever had.”
Alex pressed a soft kiss to her knee. “Well, thank Oak for that.”
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i want to talk about issues of race and gender with monster romance, but it’s such a huge subject, and idk how much interest people have in hearing about it (especially because i suspect the conclusions i’d draw would be that pockets of monster romance have a race problem). that won’t stop me from talking about it, but it’s a barrier to getting started.
i'm looking for more monster romance friends--is there a monster romance discord or somesort of community space somewhere where folks chat and give recs?
so I got some interest on this post where I tossed out that I wanted to talk more about monster romance and race and gender. it's been really nice to see a few folks are also wanting to hear/talk about it! I'm not prepared to say anything at length [eta: this turned out to be kind of a lie] with any certainty or research to back me up, but I thought I could post a rough outline of sorts of what I'd want to research and explore further, just as a starting point for myself but also a jumping off point if anyone else has any thoughts or resources.
I guess I'll start with gender first. I'm new to the romance genre generally, but I don't think it's a surprise that the genre has always been dominated by discourse around who reads romance and the kind of gender dynamics presented in a lot of conventional romance books (which are generally heterosexual/heteronormative in a lot of problematic ways). I'm thinking of the harlequin romances my mom and grandma used to read, but also of the discussions around colleen hoover's work and then the dark romance sub-genre too.
this means that there's the obvi discussion to be had about content vs. context. who is writing the romance, what informs their writing, what messaging comes through via choices made by the author, as well as by the context the author is writing in. I'm sure if you've been reading romance--even fanfic--for a while, you're well versed in some of these conversations, even if just in a casual way.
after considering romance on a macro level, I think you'd then have to look at some of those more micro sub-genres. where are gender norms accentuated and exaggerated, and to what end? why is dark romance a thing, why do (usually) straight white women want to fantasize about being in that kind of relationship? what's the purpose being met? (this is all asked non-judgmentally, btw, as I also enjoy dark romance.)
and maybe there are folks who would dislike my comparing of monster romance to dark romance, but I do think the two are related, especially based on a lot of posts I've seen since joining this corner of tumblr. I think there's a lot of interest in exploring ideas around control and dominance that dark romance and monster romance provide contained space for. if you watched my YouTube video, I touch on this a little bit more at the end as well.
I'm sure I'm missing a lot re: gender (like all the stories being told about lgbtq+ MCs), but this is just some initial thoughts at the fore of my brain.
as for race...........well. lol.
there's the very surface level question around what percentage of monster romance FMCs are white. I genuinely don't have this answer, and I know there are a lot of nonwhite FMCs too! but I'd be really curious to know the actual numbers here. why? well, bc diversity matters. but also because of the decades long narratives around white women as victims of men of color, and how that narrative has been used to weaponize whiteness and demonize blackness specifically, and non-whiteness more generally.
I am def not saying that all monster MMCs = depictions of non-whiteness, I'm just thinking about the connections between equating non-white people/bodies with monstrosity. I'm thinking of the historical framing of non-white people and communities as sub-human, as savages, as beastly. inhumane. monsters have kinda always been a metaphor for the other, including the non-white other, and I think it'd be naive of us to assume that vestiges of that brand of racism (which is still alive and well) never inform the ways creators engage with monster romance and monsterfucking, consciously AND unconsciously.
I'm also thinking about orientalism. I'm thinking of the exotification and classification of the east. the way westerners invaded the eastern world and began treating the people there like specimens. I'm thinking about how othering and abjecting and exotifying a culture or community or person can create a power-informed version of sexualizing that culture or community or person. like, othering/abjecting/exotifying can lead to creating a perverted sort of desiring. I have a special interest here because I'm arab, so this stuff feels particularly personal, but yeah. it makes my wheels turn.
there's also a dehumanizing element of turning an othered body into a piece of sexual meat. I'm thinking about the way monsters in these books are always excessive, the way their penises are always massive. we can't pretend that doesn't seem a little familiar to the degrading ways white people have also discussed black bodies, too. like. I'm not saying wanting our monsters to have big dicks is racist, I'm just saying there are some aspects of the genre that I think deserve to be ~unpacked~ and considered in a wider context that takes this kind of stuff into account. not as a confirmed given, but as an avenue worth approaching with curiosity, if only to point out the ways in which it's NOT a product of racism/anti-blackness.
obvi this post is not backed up at present with a single source because I'm just thinking out loud based on stuff I've read previously over the years that I definitely would need to revisit, so I totally get if you read this and think I'm being ridiculous. but if you saw my first post and were kinda wondering what I had in mind when making it, this is it.