Tyson Gobble の小説・ストーリー

I'm happy that I'm taking a toll on him. Toby walked in with a container of KFC chicken and fries. He looked surprised as he saw us eating. "Oh I thought you guys haven't eaten yet," he said as he placed the container on the table. "Oh well we are already full" replied Leornado as he gave him some barbeque chicken to try out. "Well, I still want" I replied giving him a smile. He shook his head in shock and handed me some chicken which I happily ate quickly. "It's like you eat ten times more than you usually did before," Toby said shaking his head. Leonardo and I looked at each other with a smile, he noticed and looked at us with suspicion.

He glanced at it, swiped the screen, and chuckled softly to himself before setting it back down. I ignored it the first time. But when it buzzed again—and again—it became impossible to concentrate on the menu, much less the conversation we were supposed to be having. "Popular tonight, huh?" I said lightly, hoping he’d take the hint. Toby didn’t even look up. "It’s just work," he muttered, typing a quick reply. The waiter returned with the sparkling water, and Toby barely acknowledged him. "We’ll have the grilled chicken for her," he said, motioning vaguely at me, "and the steak for me. Medium rare."

"You're most welcome. I'll be relying on you in the future." Once they were in the car and buckled in, Tyson went on as he drove. "The economy's rough, but driving for Mr. Ziegler is still way better than anything out there. Forget the salary and bonuses, even the other perks are enough to make people jealous. I'm more than content." Thalia smiled politely. "That's because you're such a good driver." Tyson was over the moon hearing that. With steady driving skills, he got Toby to school safely. Before Toby got out, he pressed an apple into his hands. "It's a sweet and crispy one."

The tension between them growing with each passing heartbeat, or maybe I'm just too fucking stoned that my mind is playing another hallucination trick on me. " Tyson is a boob guy though so of course he's going to be obsessed with a woman's chest area," Emerald voice effectively managed to break their shared intense eye contact , both individuals gazing back at her, Tyson's bloodshot eyes rolling at her speculation, although given the simpering look twisted in his face, it's safe to say he agreed to the notion of him being a 'boob' guy.

Tyson Chicken: Damn, think witches can make that happen? Tyson Chicken: Second one I'll ask to be anal size Me: You're obsessed Tyson Chicken: With your ass? Yes Me: Don't you have some important alpha stuff to do or something? Tyson Chicken: Like fuck your ass? Me: That is not even remotely sexy or convincing Tyson Chicken: Come over and I'll convince you another way Me: No can do. My parents are complaining I'm never home anymore. Promised I'd hang with them tonight Tyson Chicken: Damn cockblockers

Tyson watches it all with avid fascination, but he watches me more than anyone else. After dinner Maddie pulls out the Monopoly board as I bring dessert out to the table. “Is that blackberry cobbler?” Tyson asks while he wipes away the non-existent drool from his lips. “Yes. And you are required to share.” I tell him while wagging my finger in his direction. “And what if I don’t want to?”

he growled, his voice echoing slightly in the empty hall, “why have you suddenly sent men to attack him?” Several meters away, in a structure not unlike Boone’s own residence, Tyson stood inside a laboratory. Glass containers lined the walls, filled with glowing substances and half-finished experiments. The air smelled faintly of metal and chemicals. A wide smile spread across Tyson’s face as he heard Boone’s voice. “I expected you to hear about it by now,” Tyson said casually. “Or maybe even sooner. Looks like your spies are a bit slow.” Boone’s expression darkened. “What were you thinking?” Boone demanded. “You failed. The men you sent were all killed—except one who barely made it back. Wh

I couldn’t help but wonder. Turning back to Damon, I was about to ask him what he wanted but was cut off by Tyson. “Do you mind?” Tyson asked Damon, clearly annoyed. Damon looked at Tyson with his brow raised in question as he said, “Oh yeah, be a good champ and go grab me a burger and coke, will ya?” He looked back to me and winked, making me roll my eyes. Tyson was fuming. “I am not your waiter and if you want to eat, then go grab yourself some food and leave us alone.”

His chin was resting on his intertwined fingers, while he propped his hands up on the table with his elbows. He almost resembled that fat cat from the cartoon my brother used to love as a kid—What's the name of it again? — oh yes, Garfield and Friends. "So how about you, MIKE TYSON, don't you want some more pancakes?" Grandpa wiggled his brows at me. HOLY FUCK, HE DID NOT JUST SAY THAT! Gerard's fork fell with a loud clunking noise to the floor. Mom had an 'oh shit' look on her face.