Not Your Average Food Fetish

Word Count: 4,408

Rating: M

Pairing: Bella and Edward

Summary: "That color looks lovely against your skin.""Huh?""Your lips... Your lips and flushed cheeks look edible next to that soft green. They look tender and—" Not your average food fetish.


I came here because Buddy required some sort of exercise. I mean, I took him for walks on occasion, but I was busy. I'll be real about that. I didn't give him as much attention as he deserved—required.

I sat down on one of the tops of the many, many picnic tables in the park. No one else was here. I was alone.

But not for long.

Buddy was off leash smelling every blade of grass, every tree within the sound of my voice, and about to do his business when a man walked through the gate. Buddy, ever the protector, pinched it back in and ran to my side with a vicious growl.

"Shhh—" I scolded him.

"No, really. It's okay," the man replied. "Is anyone sitting here?" he asked, glancing around to answer his own question.

I instinctively looked around myself. How very odd. There was no one here—except for Buddy and me—and now this man. This beautiful, striking man.

"Do you mind if I sit down?"

"Um—sure." I answered.

"So there's this little food cart just up the way," he said, pointing behind him and gesturing wildly to indicate turns and bends, "where they serve fried rice on the side when you order a main dish."


"Yeah, well, I'm sorry. Anyway, so, if you ask Greg—the owner of the cart—for a salad instead, he'll give you a salad and put grilled chicken breast on it for you. So you don't have to worry about getting fat with all that fatty food." He nervously ran a hand through his hair.

"Uh—" I looked around again. Great. I was alone with a beautiful weirdo.

"Um, I'm Edward." He offered me his hand.

I stared at him. I just did.

He dropped his hand onto his lap.

"I usually just get the fried rice, though. The chicken is good, but I don't worry about the extra fat. The rice is good, too."

"Right. Well, thanks? I'll have to keep that in mind when I'm hungry for either fried rice or...chicken salad."

"Sure." He smiled. He had a smile that made my knees weak. It's a good thing I was sitting down. "Well, and, I'm sorry—I forgot what you said your name was..."

"I didn't."

"Well you can't expect me to guess, yeah? I mean, there's a ton of names out there."

"Bella. My name is Bella."

"Are you joking? Trying to be funny?"


"It's just—" and then he trailed off and I didn't catch the rest.

"Come on Buddy! Let's get going!" I hollered like he understood exactly what I was saying and hoped like hell the dog decided to obey me the first time, for once. He did.

I nervously looked over to Edward. He was looking at me with his green eyes and eyes. I felt both on fire and uneasy.

"Well, I have to get going. It was nice meeting you." I offered before leaving.


I noticed he didn't have a dog.


It was so cold out and I had on four layers. My Gran's scarf was tied securely around my neck while I waited for the signal to cross. I casually started observing people walking about on the other side of the street and wondered where they were going.

That's when I spotted him. I think it was after he spotted me, though.

He waved at me like we were old friends, even though it had been only four days since I first saw him in the park. When the signal to cross switched to my favor, he bumped his way towards me. He then turned on his heel when he was right by my side and began walking with me like it was his intention all along.

"Edward is it?" I blurted out first. He was dashing in a long black trench coat and a bright red scarf. The sun was peaking through the clouds today and I noticed he was a ginger. Dark ginger, but a ginger.

"Yes. You remembered—" His eyebrows raised and lowered with a breathtaking smile.

But really though, how could I forget him?

"How are you, Bella?" he asked me after we reached the sidewalk. I paused, unsure which direction I should take us both.

"I'm good. Thanks," I told him.


"Yeah. Well, it was good to see you again," I told him and began to step away. He had a way of making me nervous and this time I didn't have Buddy to fall back on.

"Look, wait. I know this is sort of weird. But I was thinking-"

"I'm seeing someone." I told him straight away, cutting him off.

"Oh. Right, of course. But I wasn't going to ask you out. I just wanted to tell you... Well, this is going to sound sort of strange, but I have something for you." At my incredulous expression he hurried on, "Don't worry—it's not stalkerish or weird. Well, maybe a little weird. But I'm not hiding a weapon in here or nothin'. It's really very stupid."

This man was so very different. Interesting, but different. Beautiful, but different.

"I, um, do crossword puzzles with my mother. I mean, it's something we do together. I can do them on my own—I do them on my own mostly, but I just, I have done them with her. I do them with her. Shoot. Anyway, so I was doing this crossword the other day—by myself—and I thought of you. Well, because number five down was the word in Italian for beautiful. See. And, well, Bella—I thought of you."

Then he began rummaging through his bag to produce a yellow file folder. He brought out a blank crossword to show me.

"I finished the puzzle, and you helped me complete it—in a sense," he finished, then handed me the crossword.

"Thank you, Edward," I replied.

I looked at this offering and couldn't help the smile that been threatening to come out at his nervous ramblings.

"Wait, you said you finished this, but it's blank." I showed him the puzzle, as if to prove my point.

"No, I know. I bought another crossword, so when I gave it to you it would be blank. Now you can do whatever you want with it." He nervously ran a hand through his hair. He had a tiny bit of hair on his knuckles.

"That's very thoughtful of you," I told him.

He was so—sweet. While it was strange, weird and different to be approached twice by this stranger—it also felt good. He felt good. Like home or something. Like I didn't only see him—I could feel him.

"Well, okay. Bye." He clasped his bag and was about to go...

"You're just going to give up?" I asked him.

He stood there and looked at me. Intense stare, those green eyes. His hand came up to run through his bronze hair again.

Then he smiled. Genuine, real—perfect.

"Come to dinner with me?" he asked.



"I hope you didn't have to re-arrange any of your plans to meet me tonight," Edward stated while looking over the menu.

He seemed to be fishing for information ever since we met at the park for our date. He talked—a lot. About all sorts of odd things, and I found it rather refreshing. He wasn't trying to please me—or maybe he was, but nothing felt forced, or a lie. It was just natural. And nice.

"Are you trying to politely ask if I'm still seeing who I told you I was seeing before I hinted that I didn't want you to give up?"

Edward laughed. "Yes."

"Well, then, no. I'm not seeing him anymore."

The relief was evident in the relaxation of Edward's shoulders and his soft quiet sigh.

"Why not?"

"It's not you. It wasn't about you, I mean. Well, it would be sorta uncool of me to see you when I was seeing someone else intimately." I cringed, because I hadn't meant to say that Mike and I were intimate. We were. Intimate. But it wasn't good intimate. It wasn't ever even okay intimate.

Edward cringed too, but hid it with a cough.


"Yeah. So what about you Edward?"

"Oh, I didn't have any plans. That's why I asked you out tonight," he replied grinning cheekily.

I threw my napkin at him and he laughed.

"Very funny. I mean, are you seeing anyone?"

"I'm seeing you," he sweetly told me with a smirk on his lips and then leaned forward with his elbows on the table—his long slender fingers creating a bridge between his hands.

"Oh? So you're seeing me now?" I playfully asked.

"I only see you."


Our conversation was flowing easily. I felt relaxed and coiled tight. There was a vent under our table and it would occasionally relieve me by blowing warm air that weaved through my parted legs. It felt good to feel something.

The more I talked with Edward the more I regretted the distance between us. The more I wanted him to touch me. This was insane! I'd only just met him, and yet I was craving his touch.

Just as I was about to take another bite of asparagus, literally just about to take a bite...

"That color looks lovely against your skin."

"Huh?" I looked down at my dress, and he was right. Blue was my color, but he'd already complimented me. I needed to tell him that he didn't need to try so hard, I was sorta sold with his, 'I only see you' comment earlier in the evening.

"Your lips... Your lips and flushed cheeks look edible next to that soft green. They look tender and—" Edward, once again, trailed off mumbling to himself.

I don't know what came over me, how sweet he was, how handsome he looked with his hair disheveled, but I waited until he met my eyes again. Green taking in brown and then I wrapped my lips delicately, seductively, around that lonely piece of asparagus.


"I had a nice time with you tonight, Edward. Thank you for taking me out," I shyly thanked him. We had just left the restaurant and were walking underneath the city lights. It was calm and peaceful—despite the traffic and occasional passerby.

"Well, shucks. Thanks for letting me take you out, Bella. But we're not really gonna get all fumbly and awkward now, are we?" He playfully bumped my shoulder with his own.

"Naw. No need for awkward...or fumbly? Is fumbly a word?"



"So, you had a nice time and I had a great time—" Edward trailed off and took one giant leap. He then spun around so that he was directly in my path.

I had no choice but to stop. Or collide with him.

Without the chance to breathe another breath, to catalog again the way his hair repeatedly dropped down on his forehead, to watch his eyes dance while watching me—without time for anything, he leaned in and pressed his lips to mine.

Once, light as a feather. A second time just as softly.

My eyes closed as the only response I could muster. I held perfectly still.

He didn't ask me if it was okay. It was, but he didn't ask me. He just took our first kiss, and by the sound of his increased panting, he was planning on taking more—all of them.

All I could see was black behind my lids, but I could feel everything. With an assurance I wasn't sure existed before this moment, Edward deliberately moved his hands up my arms. First his left, then his right, until both rested on top of my shoulders. Then they slid further back until they were almost draped over my shoulders, and I imagined them clasping behind my head.

When I opened my eyes, he leaned in and kissed my gaping mouth. I could taste him and I could see him.

I could see only him.


I grew up in Forks, Washington. A little town, with little lives and little people. My family was small, consisting of my mother, my father, and my brother, Emmett. We were all very close.

As I became older, I knew a life in Forks wouldn't work for me. I knew I was destined for something greater, something more. My parents knew it, too.

I was pushed to achieve this greatness—even though none of us knew what it was. Oh, Bella can do it, Bella can help you with that, Bella's available to tutor. I was always doing something for someone else because it was really only going to help me. Further me. Get me to where ever I needed to be. Wherever that was.

But now I was here. In Forks, again. And my life outside of Forks was just—average. Everything about it, my apartment, my clothes. My art was extraordinary—or so I'd been told. I like it, I loved it sometimes, but it never made me feel greater. This life I'd created never felt more.

Until Edward.

We were here together, like we were always together now—bound at the hip some would say. We were here together because we were in love, and it was make or break time.

We were here together and I was introducing my more to my family for the very first time. Edward was the epitome of cool—I was the one sweating bullets.

"Hey." Edward placed his arm around my waist and pulled me closer to him. He kissed my cheek sweetly and, "Hey—" another time.

"I know. It's going to be fine. I've just never done this before and I'm nervous," I told him.

We stood in front of my childhood home, outside in the cold all wrapped up in layers upon layers.

"Don't be nervous. You'll never have to do this again."

Oh gosh. The things this man said—he just had a way of cutting to the chase and making me love him so much.

He managed to turn my stiffened body until I was facing him, and then he stepped so close to me—stealing my breath and my heart and leaning into me like he was attempting to crawl inside me and stay there. Then he was kissing me, taking more of my kisses, more of my soul and I relaxed into him.

The door opened and I grew rigid again immediately. I thought Edward would stop—that he would know this was inappropriate for a first meet. The first meet with Charlie—I could tell that's who it was without turning to look.

But he didn't stop. He just shifted focus, and kissed my left cheek, my right, my forehead, my cold nose and then my lips. Softly, lovingly—until he was satisfied. Or until he could tell I was about to die of embarrassment.

"Hello, Chief Swan." Edward pulled away from me and extended his hand toward my father. "I'm Edward Cullen, and I'm in love with your daughter."

Charlie regarded him with a stern expression—I didn't expect anything different honestly. But since meeting Edward—knowing Edward—I began to realize that nothing was ever like it seemed anymore. Nothing.

Charlie smiled all warm and crinkly-eyed and proud. He extended his own hand and grabbed Edward pulling him in for a quick 'man' embrace with two claps on his back.

"Welcome, son. Come on in." Then only as an after thought. "Hey, Bella! It's so good to have you home! We've got a lot to talk about. Em's waiting for you."


"Not everyone can make yams this way. It's very tricky—and sticky," Edward explained while scooping up a large heaping spoonful of candied yams that he made with an entire bag of marshmallows, and then plopping it onto Maggie's plate with strings of mellow hanging all down the side of her plate. He then lifted it up above his head and proceeded to lick them off—only more made it on his neck and chin than in his mouth.

Maggie giggled and pulled one of the strings carefully from Edward's light, scruffy beard. She twirled it in her small pudgy fingers and then stuck it in her mouth.

"Hey! I was saving that for later!" Edward's eyes widened as he regarded Maggie eating his supposed after dinner snack.

"Oh Maggie!" Rosalie scolded and reached over to wipe off her fingers.

"It's alright, I don't mind," he said to Rosalie with a light smile. "I would have forgotten it was there and then I would have gone to bed all sticky. So really, Maggie—you did me a big favor." He winked at Maggie to let her know it wasn't a big deal.

I got to thinking about how very much my family needed someone like Edward.

Edward was sort of like John Locke from Lost. He was confusing, but charming. He was often awkward and I wasn't sure what to make of him. But he grew on me. And then, without knowing when it happened, his quirkiness became normal and I liked him—loved him. Even though the whole time he was subtly changing my perspective on...everything.

My family was experiencing this for the first time. While I was used to Edward—and appreciated him—it was a wholly different thing watching him affect someone else in a similar way. It was beautiful.

When Edward met Emmett and his family for the first time, well, that was what made me the most nervous. Emmett and I were close—we were true friends. I had spoken with him about Edward, of course, but it's something else entirely taking the next step and allowing them to meet.

Maggie, Emmett's oldest, took to Edward the fastest. Noah didn't really seem to care whether Edward was here or not. It wasn't until Edward lifted him up, flipping him upside down and making him moonwalk on the low ceiling in the kitchen, that Noah decided he was a keeper.

I thought Rosalie was going to have an aneurysm.

However, that simple, seemingly careless action won Emmett over. He was on board and, as far as he was concerned, Edward was family right then and there. He smiled widely in approval. I rolled my eyes and smiled, very pleased.

Edward offered to make the yams. Renee was hesitant at first because we usually just ate the canned yams. Not everyone liked them and it was too much work for the majority of them to go down the garbage disposal. Edward wouldn't take 'no' for an answer and before I knew it we were headed to the store for all the proper ingredients.

I think that annoyed Renee a little—but I was too happy to care.

When we returned with more than we needed, Edward allowed Maggie and Noah to help. It was then, I think, that Rosalie was sold, too.

The yams were a hit, even if they were entirely too sugary.

It was a great Thanksgiving.


I was sitting on the couch reading Inkdeath—the conclusion to the Inkheart trilogy. So what? I liked young adult books, too. It was freezing in the apartment. I had on a lap blanket, old sweatpants and a thin, long sleeved threadbare tee-shirt. Buddy was curled up on the floor and my hand would occasionally drift down and scratch behind his ears.

Edward was taking a nap. Was taking a nap. He came out of our bedroom and walked over to me. He sat at the end of the couch and he lifted my feet placing them in his lap. Then, he shifted so that my foot rested over his very obvious erection.

I continued reading.

He then took my foot and literally ground it down onto himself, rubbing it along his length for good measure.

I continued reading.

He turned his head sharply to stare at me, annoyed that I wasn't getting the point. He trailed his fingers up the inside of my thigh. I looked up at him—over the top of my book. He waggled his eyebrows to really drive it home that he wanted sex. His fingers were now making lazy circles between my legs.

I'm not going to lie. I was getting aroused. But it was cold and I was at a good part in my book. I didn't want to do this right now.

"I'm not in the mood, Edward, it's also really cold."

He moved so he was laying over me, grabbed my book, marked my place and set it on the floor. Buddy startled a little because Edward nearly dropped it on him.

Beyond irritated that he wasn't going to leave me alone, I clicked on the TV. Edward growled at me, and moved to my breasts, sucking my nipples into his mouth—through my shirt. His fingers were still working my favorite lady parts, and—this was working.

But I was cold. "Edward, I really don't want to do this right now." He moved and kissed me. I kissed him back because I couldn't not.

"Okay, enough," I told him.

He pouted. "You really don't want me—because you're cold?"

"Yes. Really."

Edward moved off me and went into the kitchen. I sorta felt bad. I mean, I was starting to get there, but—

"Close your eyes, Bella."

"What? Why?"

"Just do it, would ya?"

"Fine." Ugh. What on earth was he doing now?

I felt him sit back down at my feet again. The blanket shifted. It was an old holey afghan, and I could tell that he was beneath it.

"Can I open my eyes now?"

"Yes, but! But you can't look under the blanket."

I opened my eyes and I could see a light shining through the holes. I sat up a little bit.

"Don't move. Move back. Stop. Just move back to like you were," Edward commanded.

"What the hell are you doing under there? Do you have a flashlight?" I peeked through the holes the best I could, but they were too damn tiny and I couldn't make out much of anything.

"Uh huh." His reply was more of a mumble.

Then I felt fingers pinching on my center. "Ouch! What the hell, Edward!"

He started laughing a little.

"Sorry, my bad."

"Yeah—but you didn't answer my question. What are you doing?"

"You'll see."

Well, I didn't see anything, but I could hear the distinct noise of what sounded like fabric being cut. Specifically—oh. Oh!

"Did you just cut a hole in my crotch!" I felt another pinch and then more tugging and then more fabric being cut. "Seriously, Edward! Did you just cut my clothes up?"


And then I felt his mouth on me. Warm and wet and—oh. It was so nice. And I was warm.

I shoved off the blanket and Edward's eyes met mine. He tossed the flashlight and scissors to the floor, placed both hands under my ass and lifted my now exposed wet heat to his mouth again.

My fingers found their way to his hair and I began running my hands through his soft hair and lifting my hips up to him. I could feel his smile on me and I smiled, too.

I was just about to come when Edward sat up abruptly—wild hair and panting. He then moved to the end of the couch.

My breathing was uneven, my legs were spread and he was...not there anymore.

"Why'd you stop?" I asked him.

"I'm not really in the mood." He replied shrugging.

I just gaped at him. "Oh." Smiling sweetly, I carefully leaned over him and kissed his lips. "That's too bad."

Then I got up and started to remove my clothes letting them drop to the floor on my way to the kitchen. I looked over my shoulder at him when I bent down to remove my sweats and underwear. I could see him clench his jaw, his black eyes staring at me like he was definitely in the mood.

"I'm hot," I said aloud and opened the refrigerator. I opened a container filled with watermelon and took out a small piece. I started to bite into it—this particular piece was very juicy. Man, I loved watermelon.

Unfortunately, the juice of the melon dripped down my chin and onto my breasts and then lower. Fortunately, Edward was fast. Really fast.

I didn't see him, but I heard the couch shift and then he was right there. I felt his hands on me—all over me—and I was giggling and it was silly. But I loved it. I loved him.

I was chewing my last bite and he was taking his first few licks. He was hungry. I could tell because his eyes told me without words and his mouth—oh my—his mouth was softly sucking my nipples and his fingers were deep. His desire for just...everything was matched only by my own.

"Do you have any idea how crazy you make me, Bella?"

Less talking. Hard pants.


"You can't do something like this and not know it drives me crazy." He knelt down in front of me and was placing soft, erotic kisses on my pubic bone—I could see his tongue peaking out from time to time while his mouth moved where I wanted him. "It's crazy—"

And then he popped up. He stood close, looked right into my eyes and told me, "When I first met you I thought of food. Fuck me, but you were so beautiful and I couldn't compare you to anything else cept food. You were going to be my food. I wanted to eat you so bad."

Oh holy hell...

Less talking. More sucking.

"You know," lick, "there was just enough time for these little tiny gritty watermelon bits to stick and dry to your skin, right" lick, "here," lick, "that I'll need to work extra hard at getting off you." Lick, lick, lick.

And I giggled because he was such a dork. Secretly, though, I was dying inside. He made me just—die when he said things like that. Oh, I would be his food. I would be his world. He was mine.

He was so mine.


AN: You know who you are...thanks to you.