I Want Eat Your Pancreas นิยาย & เรื่องราว

His eyes darkened as he dropped to his knees, hands gripping my thighs. His tongue hit my clit first, a flat lick that made me gasp, arching my back. "Yes, like that." He flicked it rapidly, then sucked the nub between his lips, teeth grazing just enough to sting. I threaded my fingers through his hair, grinding against his face. "Eat my pussy, Professor. Make me cum on your tongue."

“I saw your meal plan. They are starving you half to death. Let me ask you; do you want to eat no-flavor yogurt and granola or that piece of bacon you’re eye-fucking?” “I can’t gain any weight… do you know how many calories are on this plate?” “I don’t fucking care. Which meal will make you happy? If you want the yogurt, that’s fine, but don’t you dare eat it because it’s what is expected of you.” He lifts one eyebrow as if he’s daring me to deny that I want the pancakes and bacon. I pick up the bacon and nibble the end. “Oh, my God,” I moan at the crisp goodness as it practically melts on my tongue. I take another bite and another until the piece is gone, and because I’ve apparently lost my

Tummies start rumbling sooner or later, and then their willpower goes out the window. “Fine.” I shrug. “I already made pancakes for myself, so I guess I’ll just eat them all alone.” I extract a couple of golden brown discs from the stack I made, and slide them onto a plate, carrying it to the table and sitting down to have breakfast. I can see the pups staring at me out of the corner of my eye, their little mouths hanging open in surprise. I pour syrup over the stack and cut off a small triangle, moaning theatrically when I pop it into my mouth.

But it seemed like he did have some intention of telling me what was going on after all, because once he had to calm down, he turned to look at me, although he was still struggling to maintain his composure. “If there is any piece of advice that I could give you, I will tell you to never eat the pancakes here. There are made without sugar and they taste absolutely horrible - so, if you were lying to me about the fact that they were nice, I accepted. But if you actually like them, we’re going to have a big problem.”

“Which set are you wearing today? The I’m-thinking-about-a-sordid-banking-scandal blinder, or the I-just-kissed-a-gorgeous-complicated-man blinder?” “Neither.” I laugh because if I don’t I’ll tilt and spill. “Can we have a moment with normal pancakes, please?” He slides a plate in front of me like a peace treaty. “Normal pancakes. Unlikely, but we’ll give it a go.” We attempt normal. Jamie complains about the annoying, pregnant influencer, who wants him to come back for another shoot because her astrologist told her the last one was done on an inauspicious day.

Nathaniel POV Pandora and I were sitting in McDonalds eating our usual chicken nuggets and fries. As long as I have known Panda, she has had this crazy fetish for McDonald’s fries and ranch dressing. I couldn’t help but watch her intently as she slowly dipped the fry in the ranch dressing, flicked her tongue out and consumed the treat. Damn, I thought to myself, watching her eat that fry was one of the most sensual things that I had ever seen.

Which is what makes it all the more lame. I like to think of it as the grief diet. A model-skinny figure in exchange for endless panic attacks and crying myself to sleep most nights. Fun. "I ate earlier," I lie. Besides, I'm scared I'll drop food all over myself while they watch, or get something stuck in my teeth. "No matter," Lyall says, breaking an egg into a large mixing bowl. "Ye'll find room for me world famous blueberry pancakes." I start to protest, and Alastaire places his finger over my lips.

Who cared about embarrassing themselves? Jimmy stared at Andrew, his eyes suddenly turning cold. He hissed, "Give me one good reason not to kill you. Otherwise, this time tomorrow, your organs will be scattered across the globe, except for your head, which my guys will turn into mush. Your liver will be sold to Vestra. A martial artist's heart is powerful, and buyers in Meurico love that stuff and pay top dollar." He continued, "As for your kidneys, they look pretty good. I'll eat them myself. I like to pan-fry them in butter with a little coarse salt for seasoning. It tastes amazing. After I eat them, I can go all night with seven girls."

“First of all, you don’t dictate what I eat. That’s controlling behavior. Second of all, those aren’t mini pancakes – they’re Poffertjes, a Dutch delicacy with cultural significance.” “My place, my rules. You’re here to work, so you need brain food. A pancake by any other name would still be diabetes in bite-sized form.” “You can’t just butcher Shakespeare to prove a point.” “Watch me.” I closed the pancake container and stuck it in the fridge, pulling out fresh vegetables and pre-diced teriyaki chicken from last night’s meal prep. “Comfort food makes you sluggish.” “I don’t like tomatoes,” she interjected, watching me slice vegetables with the wariness of someone who’d been food-policed bef

This time, his mind didn't wander, but his focus wasn't great either. "Do you have anything to do after this?" Cynthia asked Bernice as she stuffed a pancake into hee mouth. Bernice widened her eyes, "Cynthia if I took that picture of you and posted it, you'd lose everything so manners please," Bernice said but Cynthia shrugged it off. "If you took a photo of me stuffing an entire pancake in my mouth, it'd become a trend and soon people will become pancake addicts." She giggled and Bernice raised her brows, "it's not everyday that I get to see you laugh", "Cynthia what is it this time?" Cynthia slumped her shoulders and put her fork and knife down,