Not to be Night at the Museum 2006, but have ya'll thought about living statue preds?

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Not to be Night at the Museum 2006, but have ya'll thought about living statue preds?

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Youâve got a friend in me (Literally!)(Otherwise known as âoh no Iâve really done itâ)
Bad Grammar Warning: Just the worst
After a long day of travel, a cowboy rests under the infinite sky, and unbeknownst to him, becomes a little less lonesome.
As you anxiously watch for any sign of movement, his lips part and plume of breath strikes the cloudless sky. Even for a bean such as himself, it was a frigid night. Which was why you were getting close to this titan in the first place. Ordinarily, a borrower being caught in the open with a human meant death or worse, but through a series of tremendously unfortunate events, you were presented with a choice. Adapt or die. And so, in a bid for the warmth of his fire, you found yourself nearly at the spurred boats of this massive stranger. Now that you were closer you could make out his face, dirty, stubbly and struck reverent with awe. You turn your eyes to the stars as well, while they were familiar to you, they seemed fresh to this weary traveler. Had you ever spoken your next thought to another borrower, you would have been deemed mad. Perhaps, the heavens made him feel small as well, and in that there was comradery.
Someplace in the background, the strangerâs horse grunts, pulling you back to earth. You are caught in a different type of expanse, the strangerâs fire-filled eyes locked with yours. Both of you become stock still as his mouth flounders several moments, settling on a reaction.
âHowdy?â He murmurs just over the crackle of the fire. You take one shaky backward, then another. Having weighed the options, freezing to death sounded downright pleasant compared to what a human could do to you. The quite shock is broken as the cowboy bursts into a flurry of moment, fumbling with something at his side. âWait, L-! Ahg blastâ He grumbles before producing a gun from his hip. The sheer terror of that single movement drains the last of your body heat straight into the earth, and you bolt. Dust kicks up behind you with a loud thunk, and the stranger calls after you. â Look, I donât mean you no harm! Kid!?â. Against your better judgment, you look back. The stranger is sat precisely where you left him, the gun settled into the dirt between the two of you. It surprises you just enough to slow your flee, you turn to face him again.
From this angle, the fire no longer reflected in his eyes, you could perceive concern shrouding the massive blue pools. His mouth twitches into a nervous smile â Thatâs it. More than enough fire to share, yeah? Why donât you sidle back on over, and weâll get antiquated ?â Again you put your survival instinct aside and consider the strangerâs request. If you run now, you would, without a doubt, die. But if you stayed, there was a slim chance the cowboy held to his word. You needed that fire more than anything right now if you end up roasted over it, so be it.
The strangerâs shoulders slumped in relief as you approached. Once you had settled next to the fire, he slid off the rock heâd been sitting on and removed the dusty wide brim from his head. The attempt to put you on even playing ground was laughable, as he still towered over you, but endearing nonetheless. The adrenaline wearing off left you colder and stiffer than before, all you could do was look up warily and wait for him to snap. âDalton,â The stranger scratched the back of his head out of habit, â Dalton Pracht. Good meeting you?â In the following silence, you duck your head shamefully and loosely felt the scar on your throat, one youâre sure Dalton couldnât see. To your astonishment, he makes a sound of recognition and grins broadly, â Ainât no thing little partner! Sides, I can yammer enough for the both of us.â You canât help but smile at that, finding the courage to meet the humanâs eyes once more.
The moment is glazed bittersweet by your violent shaking. Dalton seems to catch on as well, and his unruly brows furrow in concern. He reaches toward you then pauses, thinking better of it, âSay, you ainât looking too slick. Mind if I?â and lays his hand flat on the ground, inches from your bedraggled form. You eye his callused fingertips cautiously. At this point, what did you have to lose? If he was going to pull something he would have already, indulging in shared body heat for a moment, might be helpful. With sore limbs, you drag yourself up into his ruff palm. Dalton semi curls his fingers about you as he lifts you to face level. You recoil sightly when his other hand hovers up, laying a tentative finger over your forehead. â Christ, yer cold as the dead, little partner.â He clicks his tongue and fusses over you in an almost scolding manner, âShouldâve come to me sooner, no sense in a purdy little thing like you being six feet under!â Had there been any warmth in your body, it would have gathered in your cheeks. As circumstances were, you had to be satisfied with huffing indignantly and pushing away the finger against your head.
âAlright, alrightâ He chuckles, whiskey tanged breath washing over you. Daltonâs eyes flickered around apprehensively before locking with yours again. âListen, I got an idea, but you ainât gonna like it.â You tilt your head in the universal sign of confusion, and Dalton sighs, âWe might need to get a little more⌠Cozy.â In the corner of youâre vision, Daltonâs hand trails down his chest and rests near his torso, thumb dug just barley beneath his shirt. Suddenly you understand why he thought you wouldnât like this plan. He was right.
You immediately start to thrash, but Dalton is quicker and grips you, leaving scarce room to argue. âNow hold up, nobody said anything about eatn! Itâll be like a real good hug!â The warmth of his voice doesnât convince you in the slightest, and you shake your head furiously. Dalton looks pointedly away from you and flushes, âIt ainât like Iâve got a hankering for small and human! Iâm trying to help you out. Otherwise, youâll be iced, and I just canât set with that!â His voice is kind but determined, and you get the idea that if you wait much longer, youâll lose a say in the matter. You have to remind yourself that if he wanted to harm you, he could have at any time, but he hadnât.
So you catch his gaze again with a reluctant nod. You both let out a breath you hadnât realized you were holding as the grip around you deforms into a loose cup. It seems like grappling your frigid body had been just as uncomfortable for Dalton as it has been for you.
âIâll be real easy on yeh, just let me know when youâre ready?â He quips, gingerly ensuing with, âYouâre safe with, er- in me, promise.â The side of Daltonâs cupped hand comes to rest against his chin, leaving you in eye line with his chapped lips. In fact, now the only thing within your range of view is him, his face is your entire horizon. You couldnât even feel the wind anymore over his warm breath rolling over you.
Tentatively you crawl forward, but stop when you see his lips twitch. You glance up and find Dalton pretty much looking down his nose to see what you were up to. Already high on nerves, the sight almost made you laugh. Dalton must have known because his eyes crinkled and a smile threatened to take over his mouth. With some of the tension alleviated, you found the strength to focus on the task at hand. You bring one hand up to touch his lips, catching Daltonâs stubble in the process, causing you to jump and him to chuckle. The sound rumbles through your entire body, and this time a laugh is startled out of you. The remaining tension shattered after that. Somehow, you felt safer pressed against this giant than you had in weeks. If only your piers could hear you nowâŚ
You pat Daltonâs lower lip and on queue his jaw shifts. You fall forward a little, having to catch yourself on his tongue as it prods into you. He lets you struggle against the slick of his tongue for a minute, eventually relenting by tipping you into his maw. In the last moments of light, you catch Daltonâs teeth glinting perilously, then the wet muscle fully scoops you into his mouth, and you are left in total darkness. The occurrence of being in a mouth wasnât as wholly unpleasant as you had imagined. Sure, the air was stale with drink, but you couldnât deny the warmth seeping into your bones, saliva soaked you may be.
Dalton hums low in his throat while his tongue curls and pushes against your form. At first, youâd wrestled to keep it out of your face, but your strained muscles didnât abide by that for long. After several minutes of being gently suckled on, Dalton pressed you to his palette and ventured to speak around you. âDown youh goh.â, He mumbles with some difficultly and leans back, swallowing thickly. The strong muscles of his throat catch you up to your waist, another hard swallow has your slimy form easily secured in his gullet. You canât help but squirm at the tight hold of the surrounding muscles, but when Dalton gives a surprised grunt, you quickly stop in fear of hurting him. As youâre squished down, the humanâs heartbeat becomes louder against a backdrop of unidentifiable body noises and the gurgle of his stomach somewhere below.
Finally, you are deposited into the roomier chamber of Daltonâs stomach, the organ welcomes your presence, cradling around you as you moved. Far above Dalton sighs in content, and pats his overfull stomach twice âWasnât so bad when you stopped youâre bellyaching, now was it?â. The hand returned, rubbed over his belly until he found you and pressed into you gently. âYouâre all good in there right, little partner? Cozy?â You let him know as best you could, leaning against the wall to meet his hand and tapping repeatedly. Dalton barked a laugh that shook your whole world and continued rubbing his stomach, and by extension, you. âIf you havenât got me fuller than any four-course meal. Which reminds me! I reckon youâll be wantin to head where Iâm heading, well weâre, counting the horse. Seeing as-â
Turns out Dalton had not been joking when heâd said he could talk for the two of you. Chances were he hadnât had a companion to chat with, in about as long as you had. You really did try to stay alert and listen, but the weeks of barely getting by had caught up to you. The gentle churn of Daltonâs stomach and his distant voice rambling on lulled you into a dreamless sleep. For the first time in a long time, you were cared for and safe.
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Noooo donât read a list of old west slang youâre so sexy aha
In all seriousness I am embarrassed and completely terrified to be posting this here,
But I said there would be silly cowboy vore and BY GOD If I donât deliver!
Oh hi, welcome back to weird dream hours!
I meet this shadowy, tall, vaguely human shaped fae creature who promised to devour and keep me.
It worked by fae name rules kinda but not really? Instead of names, the creature couldn't eat me without an Identity, a personality, a face?
So I'm kinda power walking away from this thing in a dimly lit barn, chanting anything alludes to being unidentifiable.
"Who am I?" "No one here" ect
But apparently I fucked up by saying "I'm nobody", which counted as giving myself a name and an identity.
I'm frozen in place as the thing saunters over, it grabs my shoulders and roughly licks my face, long enough for my head to be completely soaked.
The dream started slipping away from me here, I don't think I ever end up in the creature's stomach after all? I wish dream me would stop being so insistent on not being eaten >:/
(repost with source)
đ¨:@mcxg_archive

Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
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