Hungry Pumpkin Novels & Stories

"Mmmmm! I love you, pumpkin donut!" These were my favourite kind, pumpkin donuts, baked, not fried and dipped in caster sugar! I was absolutely in love with them and eternally thankful for Starbucks for including them in their autumn menu. I opened my eyes to see Nate watching me with amusement. "What?" "And what do I get?" he smirked.

There was a faint layer of stubble along his jaw that made him look like a man who belonged in an expensive fragrance campaign, not cooking breakfast for a four-year-old in a penthouse under lockdown. I hated him aesthetically. Poppy sat at the island with her chubby legs swinging, Bunny stationed in the empty stool beside her with a tiny napkin tucked against his chest. In front of Poppy sat three round pancakes. She pointed at one with her fork when she saw me. “See?” I stopped at the end of the island. “I see a pancake.” “No star. No heart. No bunny. Nothing.” Sebastian flipped the next pancake without looking at her. “They’re still edible.”

The maids were surprised. ‘What’s going on? Why does it seem like Harry is coaxing his daughter?’ Soon, the congee was served. It was a pumpkin congee that had been stewed slowly over a small fire. It was sweet, soft, and delicious. Sienna actually did not like to eat pumpkin, but since she had been hungry for too long, she could even eat a bowl of plain congee with relish. Besides, this congee was prepared by a private chef with fresh and high-quality ingredients, so it tasted very good.

FORBIDDEN CRAVINGS Story 1: His Little Secret (Lila’s POV) I woke up with my body still humming from last night. My pussy felt sore and sticky — Ethan’s cum had dried on my thighs, but I could still feel the ghost of his thick cock stretching me while Alex listened from his room. My cheeks burned as I remembered moaning louder on purpose. I had wanted my brother to hear me. I slipped on a tiny white tank top and pink cotton shorts with nothing underneath. My nipples were already hard against the thin fabric. When I walked into the kitchen, Alex was already there.

The vines of the pumpkins were plunged deep into the black sludge. "Watch," Martha said. She picked up a rock and threw it into the sludge. The black goo rippled, trying to form a spike to defend itself. But the pumpkin vines reacted faster. They tightened. SQUELCH. The vines pulsed. We saw a bulge of black liquid being sucked up the green stem, traveling into the pumpkin. Inside the pumpkin, a faint, muffled scream echoed. Then, the pumpkin glowed. Not with sunlight. It digested the black sludge and turned it

“We’ll throw it away.” Alpha Matthew cooked again. He quickly stirred all the spices. I chopped the spinach and tomatoes. “Do you want it a little spicy?” “Violet wants to eat this soup, less chilli.” “All right. I’ll do as you say, Pumpkin.” The kitchen smelled delicious, and Hannah looked at us curiously. A loud noise startled us. “Violet!”

The small group looked at each other, and then the market broke loose. “Child, how much for the baked one?” one elder asked quickly, already reaching for his bracelet. “How much for the fresh?” “Can I buy three?” “Do you have more pumpkin?” “Is this real organic food?” Vera answered loudly so the whole forming crowd could hear. “One thousand coins for a pound of fresh pumpkin and fifteen hundred for baked. Potatoes are five hundred each, baked potatoes are six hundred. Samples are free, but the supply is limited.”

You can imagine that, no child in her right mind would dare cross her by attempting to steal sugar-apples from her backyard, which were, in inverse proportion to her notoriety, rumored to bear the most succulent fruit. Seven-year-old Kate wasn’t crazy then. She was just, well, hungry. As her parents know too well, she gets “hangry” on an empty stomach. It was true before as it’s true now. Kate remembers passing Aling Sita’s wide backyard. The Lapuzes’ own garden came imported in pots and outgrown seed-starter bags of soil. There she was strolling by, school bag on her back, when she caught glimpse of overripe and fallen sugar-apples through the wrought-iron gate, their mushy and grainy insid

If he hadn’t shown up, I was sure Lexie would still be here today. I found my hunger had doubled since she left and I found myself having to feed more often but only on blondes that looked like her. For the first few months I would only feed but then I came across a girl that looked just like Lexie and I ordered her every time trying to fill the hunger that I had in Lexie’s absence for her. But even though the girl looked similar, the taste wasn’t the same and it never satisfied me one hundred percent.

I swatted her hand away, rolling my eyes. We moved through the aisles, Amber tossing things into the basket with zero hesitation. Chips, pasta, strawberry yogurt, a bag of gummy worms, a magazine she wasn’t going to read, a random candle shaped like a pumpkin. “We don’t need that,” I said. She gasped, offended. “Ethan. How dare you disrespect Pumpkin Gerald.” “His name is Gerald?” “Yes,” she whispered dramatically. “He is a single father of three tiny mini candles. Show some respect.”