Hungry Stomach Growling Fanfiction Mga Nobela at Kwento

Sky “I’m not hungry,” he growled like he had forced the words through his teeth. But before he could finish, a loud, long rumble came from his stomach. A sound that filled the quiet space between us. His stomach decided to betray his pride. A small gentle smile crept up my face. Such a pathetic fellow. His face was all red from embarrassment. He tried to push past me, and I instinctively held his hand. A jolt of warmth spread through me as my skin touched his. He paused, and I knew he had felt it too.

Her chest tightened with a familiar ache. Her stomach rumbled, a deep, hollow growl that echoed in the silence of the room, but she ignored it. It wasn't that she hadn't eaten, she had devoured the cold, stale food Gwen gave her earlier like an animal. But the sight of these untouched delicacies, the rich smells of roasted meat and sweet bread, made her tummy rumble again, a different kind of hunger, one of longing and a deep-seated unfairness.

His fingers circled there, slow and deliberate, and a moan trembled from my lips. I rubbed my thighs together, chasing the growing ache, and felt the betraying wetness gathering again. My abdomen clenched—but differently this time. The sound of my stomach growling filled the air, startling in its timing. Simon stilled, then chuckled low against my neck. His hand slid away, retreating through the crook of my shoulder. “We should eat,” he said simply.

So damn nice to just be still, to be held, to be safe. But then, like always, my stomach started to rumble. Loudly. Like a grumpy bear waking up from hibernation. It broke the quiet, and honestly, I was kinda glad. I needed to eat. “Hungry?” Darius chuckled, and I could feel his chest rumble against my back. “Starving,” I admitted, and then I groaned as I tried to sit up. “Ugh, remind me to never get kidnapped and starved again, okay?”

My muscles ached with a dull throb as I slipped into a comfortable set of pajamas, stretching my limbs to shake off the lingering soreness. Even though exhaustion clung to my body, a more pressing need took over—hunger. Not just any hunger, but an all-consuming, gnawing sensation that made my stomach feel like it was running a marathon. I placed a hand on my stomach as it let out a loud growl. Ever since I awakened my wolf, my appetite had skyrocketed, and now, food was all I could think about.

The sound was so loud I was sure the neighbors could hear it if there had been any nearby. "Stop pretending. Your stomach is growling loud enough to wake the dead," Lysander laughed, and I felt my face burn bright red with embarrassment. I could feel the heat spreading from my cheeks all the way down to my neck, making me want to disappear into the mattress and never come out. "Tsk," I just hissed, crossing my arms over my chest and trying to ignore the way my stomach continued to protest its emptiness. The hunger was becoming unbearable, making my hands shake slightly and my head felt light – a dangerous combination when I was already so weak from everything I’d been through.

The sound repeated itself. Valerie's face turned as red as a tomato because her stomach had been the cause. Kieran put his book down and looked toward the couch. Valerie's stomach continued to growl. She pressed on her belly firmly. The little voice inside her head scolded her stomach, "Why haven't you rumbled when I starved you before? We've only skipped one meal, and you're making it sound like you've been starved for ages. Are you looking for trouble?"

I felt her body shudder in my arms, a delicious tension building. I tightened my grip, pulling her closer, the space between us shrinking with each passing second. Suddenly, a loud, insistent growl erupted from her stomach, shattering the moment. I pulled back, a smile replacing the passion in my eyes. "Sounds like someone's forgotten to eat," I teased.

A loud, traitorous growl rumbled from my stomach, and a slow, knowing smirk spread across his lips. Humiliation warred with a deep, gnawing hunger. I wasn’t going to win this. I parted my lips, a silent concession, and kept my eyes locked on his as he brought the spoon to my mouth. The broth was warm and savory, a comfort I desperately needed, but all I could focus on was him. The intense way he watched me, the slight furrow of concentration in his brow, the way his thumb stroked the side of the bowl.