A/N You demanded it. It's here. Review. Make me feel something on the inside.

Bridezilla (brih-d-zill-uh)

(noun)

Formed from blending of the words bride and Godzilla, the iconic Japanese movie monster that wreaked havoc upon the citizens of Japan, in the movie of the same name. The term is used to describe a woman whose behavior becomes -usually temporary- outrageously bad in the course of planning for her wedding.

If that definition were correct than Leah was ten times a Bridezilla.

It was expected of her so I don't know why everyone was so surprised. Yes, since getting engaged, Leah has been a bit nicer but not even I, Jacob Black the adoring fiance, could change her attitude. She held her temper for as long as she could till three weeks before the wedding. After that, she couldn't resist being her usual self.

Not even Alice or Bella was safe in her wrath The only one who didn't have to deal with her bullshit was Baby Doll. Besides her, it's every man for themselves.

She rarely snapped at me but when she did, it was harsh. I didn't take it personally because I knew she was under a lot of pressure and stressing big time. I had to keep reminding myself of that and her nurturing hormones. It took all the strength in me not to snap right back at her.

Like when we were practicing our first dance and I accidentally stepped on her toe, she lost all sanity.

"If there is a Jesus up in heaven, may he please send me a fiance who doesn't have two left fucking feet? In the Lord's name I pray, Amen."

I tried apologizing but that got her even angrier.

That's when she began stomping around and demonstrating the footwork for me with long, exaggerated pronunciation as if I were on the slow side. She ended up scaring Bronx enough to have him hiding in the sofa cushions.

I told her I understood but she just rolled her eyes and began our song again.

When I stepped on her toe again, she does the same thing as before- just a million times worse.

"Are you stupid or just doing it to piss me off? I kinda think you're doing it to piss me the fuck off cus in all honesty, you like making me crazy, don't you?! Don't tell me you can't do a simple one two step cus if you can do the electric slide, I'm pretty damn sure you can do two little steps and a twirl for a few minutes!"

And God, she was so damn beautiful.

Especially when she took the CD out of the stereo system, snapped it into two while growling "Just fuck it," and slamming our screen door as she exited to the backyard.

I didn't know how to respond so I left her to be alone. She seemed like she wanted to tend to herself.

But our wedding party wasn't the only victims of her abuse. Outsiders weren't so safe either.

For example, when she went to get her self designed, customized reception dress fitted, the seamstress made a few mistakes in terms of her choice of words.

"It doesn't...fit," she informs Leah in her heavy Russian accent when she begins to struggle with the zipper.

Leah's bridal party, Baby Doll and I all freeze and our eyes zoomed in on her face when those oh so wrong words left her lips. We slowly back away when her own pupils dilate when she takes a glare into her reflection. We're all silent as she looked herself up and down in the mirror, her dress halfway zipped and stuck just down the middle of her ass.

"Excuse me?" She said through grit teeth and her stare doesn't leave her own reflection.

"It doesn't fit."

"Are you calling me fat?"

"No! Of course not! The zipper is just...stuck." She struggled to get the teeth to zip together but it doesn't budge.

"Then get it unstuck."

"I can't."

Leah rolls her eyes and shuts them. "How in the hell does the dress not fit? I designed this myself according to my body type and I'm pretty sure I gave you my correct measurements. I haven't gained a pound since then."

She struggled not to yell. Her jaw was clenched.

"It won't-"

"Before you say another goddamn word, keep in mind that I have very little patience. Either you make the damn dress zip up right now or we will have a major problem."

At this point, Alice intervenes and tries the zipper. Using all of her vampire strength, the zip moved two inches just below Leah's crack.

"Bella, you try cus I'm two seconds away from flipping my shit over this dress."

After Bella tried and could only move it a few centimeters, the evil in her hazel eyes flashes and she turns on the seamstress again.

"You fucked up my dress!" She screeches, startling and cutting tension throughout the whole dress shop.

The Russian lady pleaded with Leah and they went back and forth about whether she made the dress too small or whether Leah had put on some weight (we all know the fat goes to her ass) since giving her the measurements. My sisters got involved and tried to calm Leah down but that didn't work so Emily attempted to zip it further. And then Leah got beyond offended when Kim suggested she suck her tummy in. That earned her an echoing "do I look like a fucking circus elephant to you?!"

Then Leah came to me and asked me to try it. I wanted to mention that if Alice or Bella couldn't get it and they had superhuman strength, then I sure as hell wasn't. It burned my tongue when I held in my "your ass is too damn fat" remark whilst struggling to zip her up.

The argument went on till my fiance's heard enough and ripped the dress from her body, white fabric flowing to the carpet and sequins flying everywhere.

We all stood there, mouths a gap and staring at the tarnished dress when she stomps back into the dressing room in her bra and thong.

It was then I realized I was marrying an absolute monster. Her angelic ways and godly behavior weren't the reasons I was. Being with Leah has made me realize that I love crazy ass women.

If those two weren't good enough examples, there was the cake incident.

Leah decided she wanted a Double layered, chocolate fudge and mousse cake, similar to the one I got for her birthday. We went to the same bakery but on this particular day, the wrong employee was working the wrong shift.

When Leah took her first taste, she immediately threw her fork down and spit out her bite. It made me and Rebecca freeze. We knew the outcome and we feared for the baker.

"I specifically asked for a double fudge, double layer, mousse and chocolate fudge cake. This," -she points at the cake on her plate- "- is crap."

The whole bakery went silent while I chewed and tried to find the difference between what she'd just described and the cake I was eating. I couldn't taste the difference but she obviously could. The baker taste it for herself and can't find what's wrong with it.

That's when the fire returns and Rebecca muttered, "Oh boy," while leaning on my shoulder.

"You can't taste the difference? Your taste buds must be fucked up cus tell me why in the hell I taste cocoa fudge and not chocolate fudge?"

The baker tries explaining herself but Leah's hopped out her seat now, towering over her.

"Do I look like an idiot? Where on my forehead does it read 'dumbass'?! It's cocoa not chocolate! If I'm paying you money to have a chocolate cake at my wedding then I expect to taste Hershey's and Willy Wonka to be having a baby in my mouth!"

Rebecca would usually interfere by this time in an argument but I get she was too tired of trying to calm her down. So she continues eating her cake and mine, lifelessly watching the scene unfold.

By this point, Leah's reached her boiling point and her piece flies to the wall, the glass of the plate shattering while fudge and cocoa dripping down the wall.

Everyone was still and shocked while Becca and I sigh and cover our face. More money out of my pocket.

Leah stormed out of the bakery, balled fist covered in cake mix and fudge. "Becca!" She screeches as she stomped away. Becca whimpered and began praying when she followed the bride out the shop.

I looked to the baker and she had a look of straight fear across her face.

"You're marrying h-her?" She asked with a shaky voice.

I couldn't help but grin. "Lucky me," I said and finished my piece.

I should be disgusted but in a way condone her behavior. I'd have to live with it for the rest of my life so why try to change her? I lived off of this kinda drama. It's sad, but very true.

I even remember this one time our whole party was gathered at the venue down in Forks for our rehearsal and no one was paying Leah or Alice any attention. Then out of nowhere, over a loud bullhorn speaker, Leah's annoyed voice rung out in the auditorium.

"I'm gonna kindly ask everyone to shut the fuck up before I round house kick every last one of you in the throat. If your name isn't Baby Doll or Alice and you're not in your spot in the next sixty seconds, I promise you that you will not live to see March eleventh."

We eventually got our shit together and got through the rehearsal but then that left the rehearsal dinner which stood on many levels of awkward.

She may have been kicked out of Leah's bridal party but that didn't stop Seth from bringing Nessie. The tension was eased between them two in the slightest because of her telling Leah the truth about Rosalie. Bella was the middle man and I found it funny how I've-at one point-been attracted to all three of them.

Seth continued to ignore me while the Cullens tried to sit there and appear human. The pack was oblivious to the tension and I wanted to be to but I was a contributing factor to the awkwardness. Needless to say, it's the longest dinner I've ever endured.

Tonight was intended to be drama-free. That obviously didn't happen since it was mine and Leah's bachelor party. Cus of her trust issues, she had decided we're having a joint party but only until midnight cus the groom isn't supposed to see his bride the day of the wedding till they meet at the alter. Or was it he wasn't supposed to see her wedding dress? Was it the day of or twenty four hours prior?

Anyway, the night was going fairly well. We were partying in the club, having a jolly time till Lee turned her head for two minutes and a group of girls who looked as if they'd been born two weeks earlier made it their business to dance and grind upon my crotch.

Since I was a good boy and I've learned my lesson, I stray away and nearly push them off of me. They were alright looking, but It's already been established that if I cheat, I do it with people I already know and not disease ridden teenagers.

Leah would've gone wolf if she could've but snatching the young girls by their extensions and tossing them away like a garbage bag sufficed for her.

The first time wasn't a good enough warning, so they come at me again. Leah, inflamed, removes her heels and earrings, fully prepared to kick ass. She's had one too many teenagers try and "steal her man" so their altercation got a bit intense.

Needless to say, our night together ended before midnight.

So, now my groomsmen and I are back at Paul's, kicking back with beer and TV. We didn't have money to blow on strippers nor we were in the mood to be interrogated by suspicious fiances, wives and girlfriends tomorrow morning so this was my bachelor party. Never imagined there'd be so much testosterone and semen. I never imagined Seth wouldn't be here either.

Gossiping wasn't just a girl's activity. Guys could do it too. Except our gossip turned into more of a game of twenty questions and just straight talking shit.

"Okay, whatever, Jacob," Paul scoffs as he opens his third beer since getting back from the club.

"What? I'm dead serious."

"Quit bullshiting."

"I'm not, I swear," I insist and try to pay attention to the television. "Jared, if Kim put on a little weight, you'd still bang her, right?"

He has to think for a sec. "Depends on how much."

"Let's say like ten or fifteen pounds."

"That's not really noticeable."

"Fine. Like twenty five, thirty."

It takes him a while to answer. He sips his beer and scratches his head. "Yeah, probably."

"Told you!" I yell to Paul while he throws his hands up in disbelief.

"Oh, come on."

"Hey, man. Pussy is pussy."

"And even if Leah's just so happens to be a bit harder to reach than I'm sure Jacob will still hit it. Right?" Quil announces from the kitchen, making me nod in agreement.

"Right. You wouldn't love my sister if she got a little fatter?"

He scoffs. "I'll always love your sister. Just wouldn't be able to bang her."

"Thank goodness."

"Oh, so you're a smart guy now?"

"Just ask the next question."

"Fine." Paul takes a moment to come up with a question to embarrass me but Embry beats him to the punch.

"How is Lee in bed?"

I'm too old to blush at that question. "Good."

"Just good? Don't tell me you're letting all that booty go to waste."

Tonight was my last night of being celibate. Come tomorrow, I'd be balls deep inside my wife. "Alright, alright. She's amazing. More like fucking fantastic. She's just. . ." I don't wanna exploit her to them so I stop.

"Don't stop there!" Paul exclaims, slapping my bicep.

"Guys, we've got kids here," I'm referring to Colin and Brady, who were actually in the kitchen, eating everything in sight. They were kids compared to the rest of us.

"They're of age. Continue," Quil insists and takes a seat on the recliner chair.

"What do you want me to say?" I know what they want but they don't deserve the satisfaction.

Paul reaches forward and grabs one of the magazines off the coffee table. "Rach usually has these stupid questionnaire, true or false, dirty couple type things in one of these woman magazines. This should be interesting." He begins flipping through the magazine, trying to find a page.

"I don't know if I feel comfortable with talking to you guys about me and my wife's sexual ventures," I chuckle a bit and that's probably the exact same thing Lee and her bridal party were doing right this second.

"Don't say your wife as if she's some kinda stranger- It's Leah. We know and love Leah," Paul mutters and stops searching. " 'Sides, she's not your wife yet."

"But still-"

"You love this woman and you respect her and all that junk but it's just us boys right now. You can tell us," Embry urges, nearly bouncing in his seat to know. My friends were perverts but I guess I'm an even bigger pervert for being willing to tell them. I wanted to brag actually.

"Fine. First question." I sheepishly smirk, ready for anything at this point.

Paul has already begun laughing at my answers without me even having to say them. "Something she does that never fails to make you horny?"

I think. "When she pouts. I don't even know, it's just sexy to me. Either that or when she does yoga and her body's stretching and shit. . ."

Many of mornings, I've come downstairs in the middle of Leah doing her yoga and a mix of the tight outfit and provocative positions drive me insane.

"Reasonable enough. Is she usually on top or bottom?"

"Bottom."

They laugh at me.

"She makes you do all the work?" Paul teases.

I shrug. "I'm not complaining. Next question."

"Does she give head?"

My cheeks must've been beet red. "Yes, she does." She hasn't been doing it lately but they didn't need to know that. She does this really fucking cool shit with her tongue, making my eyes roll back and actually make me scream.

"Ass or tits."

That's actually a hard one. With tits, you can play and jiggle them around like it's a sport but with ass, you get to see just how hard your hitting it depending on the ripples of each thrust over her flesh.

"Ugh. . .ass. Because Leah's got so much of it."

"Amen," Paul mumbles under his breath. "Last question: who was better in bed? Leah or Nessie?"

I glare at him but he pretends not to notice as his eyes scan over the pages of the magazine. They find it hilarious how Leah punched me in the face and actually left a bruise a month or two ago when I fessed up to cheating. It was a tender topic for all those involved but Seth wasn't here. I answer the question mentally and keep it to myself.

"Your mother," I respond and he gives me a disgusted look while I just laugh with the rest of my boys.

"Fuck you. Next question," he grimaces and reads on.

The questions only get raunchier and it gets to a point where we're all in strong need to rub one out. Instead, we quit with the questions and try to get drunk by drinking every last bit of alcohol in his house. I know I made a New Year's resolution to drink less but this was my bachelor party. I had another two hundred something days to be sober.

Before passing out like a teenager, I wonder what Lee and the girls have been up to since leaving the club.

A/N This story just might make you, my readers, hate me forever. Happy Valentine's Day.