A/N: This is just a fun little one-shot I wrote when I was having a bad day – enjoy and please don't take it too seriously :-)

Disclaimer: I do not own Twilight or its characters.

Carefully balancing the basket on my arm, I raise my arm to the top shelf. Fuck! Why on earth is every other freaking brand of chips and popcorn located at eye level, but the stupid Smartfood on the top shelf? GAH! I set my basket down and huff in irritation. All I wanted was some damn white cheddar deliciousness.

"Do you need some help, Bella?" a familiar voice rings out from behind me.

I spin around and sure enough, there stands Mike Newton. This is just not my fucking day. I sigh and bite my lip, torn between asking for his help, which will surely give him the wrong impression and somehow make its way into his masturbatory fantasies, and politely telling him to shove off. One last glance up at the bag of Smartfood and my mind is made up. I need that Smartfood.

"Mike, will you please grab me a bag of Smartfood? I can't reach it," I ask as sweetly, yet aloof, as possible.

I am rewarded with a broad, creepy smile – you know, the kind that looks like he just found a non-invasive and effective penile enlargement treatment within his price range. Yep, he's going to be beating the bed flute later tonight thinking about how he's my dreamy hero. Fucking gross.

He reaches up, glancing back at me with a smirk, grabbing the bag of Smartfood and handing it to me. I swear I see his butt cheeks clench like he was trying to get me to ogle his ass. I think I may have thrown up in my mouth just a little.

"Thanks Mike. See you Monday," I say as indifferent as possible, not bothering to wait for a reply as I pick up my basket and walk away.

I glance down at my basket, trying to ignore the pulsating pain in my ovaries. I definitely need to book it out of here and get home to my bottle of Ibuprofen and sweat pants. God, this day freaking sucks!

I decide to take one last inventory of my items before I head to the checkout. I have no intentions of leaving my house for the next two days, so this will be the one and only trip to Thriftway until Aunt Flo leaves town.

Smartfood: Check! (Thank you, Mike – don't pull a muscle later.)

Four Kit Kats: Check!

Beef Jerky: Check!

Jar of Baby Dill Pickles: Check!

Two Cans of Creamed Corn: Check! (Don't ask. I get some weird fucking cravings when I'm raggin.)

Four Cans of Salt and Vinegar Pringles: Check!

Two Pounds of Dried Apricots: Check!

All of the important food groups present and accounted for: Check!

I am finally ready to go home and bleed out to my heart's content.

Another sharp pain shoots through my lady parts. Ugh! I can't believe I didn't stop at home first to get some pain meds before attempting to go out in public.

I am usually much more prepared for the red carpet to pay a visit. But lately, in my happy little Edward love bubble, time has just been escaping me. In two weeks I'll graduate high school and soon I'll FINALLY join Edward in immortality. And never have to worry about tampons ever-fucking-again. Just sayin'.

Soon this day will end and I'll be one day closer to my forever with Edward.

Blessed with a rare sunny morning in Forks today, I was on my own until after my third class of the day, when the vampires were finally able to come out and play. It was during second period English that Mother Nature paid a visit. I was lucky enough to catch it early and be wearing dark wash jeans; however I did say a few choice words out loud to my dear friend Alice when I finally saw her.

Where were you on that one, you meddling, psychic gnome? You could have sent a text or something in warning.

When Edward and Alice joined me at lunch, the weary looks on their faces let me know they knew exactly what was happening. Oh yes, dear lover and friend, Bella is not a happy fucking camper today. Already in a pissy mood, I barely escaped lunch without causing any major damage. Luckily, Alice was able to intervene before I stabbed Lauren Mallory in the eye with my plastic fork.

By the time the day was over, Edward offered me a quick peck on the cheek before bolting out of the school parking lot for a quick hunt. Seems he needed to kill some wild animals before he could be alone with me. Can't say I blame him – I'd probably be up for taking down a mountain lion right about now to get out some aggression. I have heard that physical activity can do wonders for bloating and irritation.

Now, let me just say that I usually pride myself on being a level-headed, mature, kind, and caring individual. But once the ovary dance begins, all bets are off the table. During a normal day, I never even utter an F-bomb in my thoughts, let alone out loud. But Uncle TOM comes, and I figure I've earned the fucking right to throw out at least one expletive for every egg my ovaries are capable of producing.

Those closest to me are well aware of this freaky-alternate-universe Bella. We go through this same song and dance every 28 days. Well, except for those six months when Edward was gone – the "Zombie Phase" as my friends called it.

Or the "Edward needs to grow a pair" phase, as I like to call it.

I'd bet money that right now the Cullens were in a heated round of rock-paper-scissors to see who would get the coveted experience of dealing with me tonight.

I pay for my things and head home in my truck, muttering violent words the entire way as the pain in my abdomen grows worse. I park in front of the house, noticing that Charlie's cruiser is in the driveway, much earlier than normal. Well, too bad, Charlie. Looks like you are the lucky winner and the first victim.

I walk into the house, throwing my grocery bags on the kitchen table.

"Hey, Bells. How was your day?" Charlie asks, clearly oblivious. I happen to glance up at him when the realization registers on his face, his eyes zeroing in on the mountains of junk food I am unpacking.

"Oh. OHHHHH. Yeah."

Very articulate, Charlie.

I narrow my eyes at him, just daring him to keep going with that thought.

"I'm going to head on up to the reservation. I may, uh, stay the night so Billy and I can get an early start fishing tomorrow. So, um, yeah, have a good weekend, okay, kiddo?" he says, slapping his palm on the doorframe before making a quick getaway. About four seconds later, I hear the door slam, followed by the cruiser's engine rumbling.

Next on the agenda: Painkillers. Lots of them. I find the bottle of ibuprofen on the kitchen counter and down a few with a Diet Coke chaser. Done.

I head upstairs to change into some sweats and a t-shirt. Once I am satisfied that I look as unattractive as possible, I grab a pillow and heating pad and then head downstairs to start my weekend couch marathon.

I make a junk food buffet on the coffee table, grab a two-liter of Diet Coke and settle in. I do a mental fist-pump at finding a Buffy the Vampire Slayer marathon on TV. Edward is sure to love that. I briefly wonder what could be taking him so long, snickering to myself as I imagine him pacing the forest outside my house, giving himself a pep talk to come in.

Always the gentleman, Edward has never mentioned my period. Alice told me once that they could smell it, but it didn't cause any bloodlust for them because it wasn't the same as fresh blood. Although he never mentioned it, I know that he was slightly uncomfortable around me – especially given my erratic mood swings and sudden case of Turret's Syndrome.

About halfway through the first episode and my second Kit-Kat, a soft knock at the door brings me out of my Spike drool-fest.

"Come in!" I shout. I am so not getting up.

"Hi, love," Edward says with a smile as he enters the room and sits beside me on the couch.

I smile up at him, momentarily forgetting about my womanly woes. God, he was so beautiful. And the look of pure love on his face was enough to reduce me to a pile of bloody goo. I can't believe this man puts up with me. I mean, come on, my very best days are full of awkwardness and clumsiness. At my worst, such as today, I am a complete bitch. My breath hitches as these hormonal internal ramblings took over. I try, I really do, to hold back the tears. But sometimes there is just nothing you can do.

A look of pure horror takes over his beautifully pale face. "Bella, what's wrong?" I can hear the panic in his voice. Before I can blink, I am in his lap, my head tucked safely beneath his chin, his hands rubbing soothing patterns on my back. I breathe in the love and comfort only he can provide.

And because I can't possibly get anymore unattractive than I am at this moment, my nose starts running uncontrollable, only making me sob even harder. What the hell, I thought, might as well go all out crazy today.

So I wiped my nose on his ridiculously expensive shirt. Cute, Bella. Real fucking cute.

I pull away and look into his amber eyes. I honestly can't think of anything to say, so I start to laugh.

"How more cliché can I possibly get? I'm bloated and irritable, sitting on the couch shoveling junk food into my mouth, and crying like a hormonal freak." I sniffle again. Okay, so it was more like a snort. If I'm going down, might as well do it as gracelessly as possible, right?

"Oh, Bella. Just when I think I can't love you any more than I do, you do this. Do you have any idea how adorable you are like this?" Edward's hands are on my cheeks, his thumbs gently wiping at the stray tears still trickling out of the corners of my eyes.

"Yeah, this is really fucking cute." I sigh. I look into his eyes again.

And this time a different type of hormonal Bella takes over.

And I attack him with my lips.

I feel him gasp into my mouth in surprise. I immediately mold my body to his, my legs straddling his body, the heat between my legs pushing down on him. What the fuck is wrong with me? I just can't seem to get close enough. My hands tangle themselves in his hair.

He is still for a moment before he finally reacts. He's kissing me back with as much passion as I am him and it feels oh so good. Our tongues dance with each other – his carefully keeping mine away from his razor-sharp teeth, but I don't care. I'll take what I can get.

His hands remove themselves from my face and make a trail of icy heat down my shoulders, my waist, my hips, finally reaching their destination to slowly move under my t-shirt.

When his hands finally reach my breasts, I can't help be search out the friction I so desperately want. My hips grind into his now very hard erection and its right there.

Oh, I can feel every movement right where I need it.

I know he'll stop soon. I know I'm bleeding and this can't be comfortable for him. I know I'm testing his carefully crafted control, but I just can't find it in myself to care.

Our lips part and I gasp for a much needed breath. Oh, God, I feel his lips make their way down my neck, leaving a wet, cold trail in their wake. His fingers are gently teasing at my nipples and for a brief moment I think how thankful I am that I decided to forego the bra tonight.

I grind in quick but deep movements over him. God, I'm so close to flying, to exploding.

The noises he makes are the hottest thing I think I have ever heard. At one point, a purring sound escapes him – a noise that if he were to have made in a non-sexual context, I would be laughing, but in this moment, it is the sexiest fucking thing I could ever imagine.

With one final grind, I feel myself explode in pure, unfiltered pleasure. I cry out, loudly and uninhibited. Realizing that I am too weak to keep the movement going, Edward grabs at my hips and continues to move me over him. It is almost too much, the pleasure, the feelings, the emotions, the everything – all in the same thought, I want it to stop and I hope it never stops.

Suddenly, his hands still and I feel his body convulse under me. My name leaves his lips in a loud grunt and moan as he comes undone beneath me. He is panting and even though I know he doesn't need to breathe, I love hearing it – knowing that this was a moment we shared together.

His forehead falls to my shoulder for a brief second before he lifts his head again, his lips meeting mine in a very chaste, but emotionally charged kiss.

"Feel better?" he whispers, pulling away gently to see my face, his lips sporting a lazy, satisfied grin.

I smile widely at him, because, yes, I do feel better. A lot fucking better.

"Yeah, I really fucking do." His eyes widen ever so slightly, before he shakes his head in mock disgust.

"Only five to seven more days of this, right?" he asks. I think he's joking, but I can't quite tell – his smirk gives nothing away.

I roll my eyes and climb off of him.

"At least this is the last time, right?" I say with a wink, snickering at the look on his face, clearly a mix of amusement and remorse for my impending change.

I head upstairs to clean up a little.

I suppose it wasn't that bad of a day after all.