#dwah

"You know what’s funny, Knight?" He shook his head in disbelief. "Every single time I think I’m done with that old bastard, somehow, some way, he just—"

"He sat in my goddamn apartment," Eddie muttered. "Sat there like he had the right to be there. Like he was just another guy stopping by to say hi."

He exhaled sharply, shaking his head again. "No apology. No explanation. Just him, sitting in my home, expecting me to sit across from him like none of it mattered."

Izzy had seen him all angry, pissed, frustrated, even the kind of irritation that simmered until it finally snapped. But this wasn’t just all that.

This was years of damage. She could feel her blood bubbling up as well, but she had to keep it cool since Eddie mattered more than whatever she is feeling that moment.

"He was never a goddamn father," he huffed. "You know what he was good at? Being a piece of shit. He made it an art form."

Izzy scoffed and sarcastically muttered, "Tell me about it."

Eddie let out another hollow laugh, shaking his head. "I thought he was finally out of my life, and then he just gets to be there because Anne thought it would be a good idea?"

"She doesn’t get it, Knight. She doesn’t get how much damage he did. How much of my life was built on making sure I never became him."

Izzy tugged him closer, shaking her head in disapproval, and sighed, "You are never going to be like him."

Eddie scoffed, turning slightly now, finally looking at her. "Yeah, Knight? What if I am? His blood runs through my veins after all."

She narrowed her gaze, meeting his, and smirked.

"You're more of my parent's son than you are your father's, Brock. Believe me."

And for a moment his shoulders dropped, just slightly. Izzy didn’t blame him for walking out of that apartment. Honestly? She would’ve done the same. No one asked him what he wanted—only her. She never saw him as someone that needs "fixing" but rather someone that needed to be heard. Eddie did not need to be alone and Izzy sitting there, staying close, wrapping herself around him was enough for him to power through the pain once more.

Izzy watched him, her fingers still curled loosely in the fabric of his hoodie. Eddie never let himself fully lean into being taken care of. He never let anyone think he needed someone—he scoffed.

“You really didn’t have to come, Knight.”

She froze for half a second, before slowly—pulling back just enough to meet his eyes.

Eddie already knew the mistake he had made.

Her gaze sharpened immediately, lips pressing into a thin line as her fingers tightened slightly against his hoodie. She looked thoroughly unimpressed. Yet, in her head, he had made it so easy for her again. She had been waiting for the perfect moment to lift his mood without being insensitive to his situation.

So, in true Isobel Knight fashion, she said,

"Oh, I didn’t have to come?" Izzy repeated, her voice flat, an eyebrow arching as she settled into the perfect opportunity he'd handed her.

Eddie exhaled, half-resigned, half-amused, pressing his palm against his face, because of course she was going to do this.

Izzy smirked—the kind that didn’t let him spiral in silence, didn’t let him sit in the wreckage just to convince himself he was built for it. One Bay Area breakdown between them was enough. No way in hell was she letting it be the only thing they remembered about this place.

“Oh, okay, Brock," she continued with her eyes squinting at him tauntingly, and tone exaggerated, dripping with sarcasm. "Next time you text me in the middle of the night, crying on a damn beach, after your fiancé invites the man who single-handedly ruined your childhood into your apartment, I’ll just ignore it.”

Eddie groaned, dragging his hand down his face. “Jesus—”

“No, no, I get it.” Izzy was fully leaning into it now. “You didn’t need me here, right? You had it all under control, sitting out here like you're filming a ridiculous movie scene, sobbing into the cold sand—”

“Oh my god,” Eddie muttered, but the corner of his lips twitched upwards because damn it, she was pulling him back again, whether he liked it or not.

She shifted closer, pressing her forehead against his shoulder just long enough to make sure he felt her there, holding onto him, keeping him steady, even as she mercilessly tore him apart with humor.

“I hate you, Brock,” she muttered softly.

Eddie sighed before tilting his head slightly, meeting her gaze with his eyes finally looking lighter than before.

“You keep saying that, Iz," he murmured. "I'm starting to believe you.”

She hummed and continued, “I hate you because you keep forgetting that a 'you' problem is a goddamn 'we' problem, Eddie.”

Eddie snorted, shaking his head. “Yeah, well, it didn't exactly feel like there's even a 'we' left to consider lately.” He took a brief pause and glanced at Izzy who is now staring at the waves calmly splashing in the shore before he continued, "Didn't think you'd show up tonight, Iz."

Izzy scoffed, finally meeting his eyes again, leaning back slightly with the kind of smug confidence. “Never doubt me, dumbass. You and me against the fucking world, remember?”

For the first time that night, Eddie laughed with his heart beating like crazy. Damn, it was always her who could make him feel like the world is less revolting than it actually is. He shook his head, now in amusement, running a hand through his hair, finally breathing like the world wasn’t pressing down on him completely anymore. He glanced at her again sideways, tired but grateful.

“Thanks for coming, Knight.”

“Oh, now you’re grateful? I thought you didn’t need me?”

She can't help it. Once Izzy starts teasing, it never stops.

Eddie huffed a laugh, shaking his head. “Shut up.”

The ocean was still crashing the shore in front of them, it seemed to have calmed down just like they did. San Francisco, that night, felt in sync with their emotions. For a moment, they sat in the comfortable silence until Izzy stood beside him, arms crossed, watching him, making sure he didn’t slip back into whatever hole he’d nearly drowned in.

“So,” she finally said, nodding toward the motorbike parked by the side of the road, “you riding, or am I?”

“You can’t even reach the ground on that thing, Knight.”

Izzy hummed, unimpressed. “I could try.”

Finally standing up, arms being tugged by Izzy, walking towards his bike.

“Come on,” he huffed, nodding toward the bike. “I’m riding.”

She smirked. “Coward.”

Eddie rolled his eyes, but didn’t fight her on it—just threw a leg over the bike, and settled into his seat. She followed, slipping onto the back without hesitation, fitting against him like she’d done a thousand times before. His chest tightened again when he felt the warmth of her arms wrapping loosely around his waist and the familiar presence of the sole person who had carried him through every damn storm he refused to admit he was drowning in.

Izzy tightened her grip just slightly, just enough to remind him she wasn’t letting go. Physically, emotionally, and everything else in between.

As he kicked the stand up, rolling away from the bay area, and away from whatever ghosts had followed him here—leaving with a lighter memory.

Then again, progress isn't linear.

Probably the thought of crashing the Knight's place again because of his paternal problems were weighing heavily on him.

The moment they got inside the mansion, Izzy practically forced him to eat before retreating back upstairs, careful not to wake her sleeping parents in the master's bedroom. She merely slipped away for a few minutes to grab extra towels, and when she returned, he was dimmed again.

It was obvious in the way his fingers fiddled together anxiously. She crouched down in front of Eddie who's lost in deep thoughts, sitting in the armchair in her bedroom.

"You need to shower, big guy." she said softly to Eddie who just sat there, staring at the floor.

It was easy to fall back into that dark pit inside your mind when the trauma ran deep. Izzy sighed and braced herself before reaching forward, pushing his hair back gently, her fingers sliding through the greasy, salty, sweaty strands. His breath hitched slightly at her touch, but he didn’t pull away.

“Come on, Brock,” she murmured. “Let me take care of you.”

And finally, he moved.

Izzy gritted her teeth, pissed off, as she stood to grab a set of his old clothes from the stash in her closet. She hated seeing him evidently spiraling. She knew those tears were not just pain and anger.

It was grief.

Eddie was grieving the loss of his "father," the only parent he had left—the one who was supposed to be his greatest defense but had instead become the source of his excruciating pain. And his fiancé, the person who had promised to stand in his corner, had pulled the trigger instead.

She knew he should’ve been anywhere but here, in her bedroom, looking at her like she was the only solid ground left after he had showered and gotten dressed. She didn’t stop him when he slid onto the mattress beside her, didn’t flinch when he shifted closer into her space, and didn’t pull away when his arms found her waist and he buried his face in the crook of her neck.

Eddie needed that. Izzy definitely needed that.

Her arms curled around his frame, pulling him closer into the warmth of her blanket, making Eddie exhale so deeply it almost sounded like relief. She swallowed, shifting slightly, adjusting just enough for their legs to tangle. His body molded against hers like this was the only place he belonged tonight.

Her fingers brushing absently, instinctively against his back with his old T-shirt soft against her skin.

And then she spoke:

“You know I hate him.”

He had known it all along, since his best friend had always been vocal about it, and tonight was just another instance.

“I don’t hate him just because of what happened tonight,” she continued.

Eddie was watching her now, his body stilling like he knew exactly where she was going with this and she held his gaze.

“I hate him because of what he did to you since we were kids, all the times you came to this house after he tore you down, after he made you think you were never gonna be enough.”

She wasn’t finished.

“I hate him because I had to watch you try to be everything for everyone else—stronger, wiser, fucking choose something you think is better, and never just be... Eddie.”

“And I hate him,” Izzy whispered, “because after all those years, he still managed to hurt you the same fucked up way.”

Eddie’s fingers dug into the fabric of her tank top, his forehead pressing against her shoulder, making her hand run slow against his back.

“He doesn’t get to ruin you, Brock,” she murmured. “Not while I’m still here.”

Her words unraveled his barely contained feelings inside his chest, every bit was screaming at him to do something. She was there for Christ's sake. What the hell is he waiting for. He would never hear those reassurance from anyone, except Izzy.

He adjusted against the pillows, shifting to sit up, then one of his hands slid to her back, the other smoothing along her thigh as he pulled her to sit on his lap like she was that easy to carry and flick around. He didn’t hesitate when he settled her against him. Her palms pressing against his chest, and his lightly stroking on both sides of her waist.

“…Why do you always do that?” he softly asked, his brows furrowed, staring at his hands on her waist.

“Do what?”

"Leaving me... Then acting like I didn't just spend the last month figuring out how to be fine without this."

“Eddie, come on,” she murmured. “You needed me.” She is trying to meet his gaze and continued, “I’ve never doubted what I’d do for you. Not once. Even if that meant staying away.”

Finally, she met his tired eyes but they weren’t avoiding her. And then—God help her—he pressed a slow, lingering kiss against her collarbone. She tensed, knowing for weeks she ended things to avoid this from happening, but that did not stop him from trailing more kisses in her skin, enough to let her know that he knew exactly what this was. She bit her lip, tilting her head back slightly, giving him more space, more access, because her body was aching for him as well.

“…Eddie,” she murmured, not quite stopping him, her hands slid to his broad shoulders.

He hummed against her skin, dragging his lips just slightly higher, brushing against the skin of her neck, making her swallow hard.

"You said you'd never doubt the things you'd do for me, Iz..." he breathed against her skin. "Prove it."

“Fuck. Eddie. I'm—”

The back of his fingers grazed her chest, feeling her hard nipples, and he stilled for half a second before his other hand slid inside the inseam of her shorts, instantly feeling how warm and wet she was for him.

“Izzy...” he murmured, “I missed you.”

Of course he did.

His two fingers dipped inside her, making her moan faintly as she instantly rolled her hips and sinking into him. Eddie watched how she let herself go, her eyes closed, eyebrows furrowed, barely containing her cries while he was moving his fingers inside her velvety walls he craved for weeks now.

"You're so beautiful, baby..." he whispered while his fingers worked deep inside her. He marveled at how she looked, all messed up and intoxicated like him. "You missed me too, didn't you?"

She should've stopped him. But she didn’t pull away, didn’t let herself react too much—just a whimpered nod because whatever Eddie needed right now, she wasn’t going to take it from him, letting him take his time.

His grip around her waist stayed firm, his fingers pumped in and out of her, curling inside her walls while his thumb fiddled with her clit. It was harder for her to conceal her moans when her senses went feral over him. His face buried in the crook of her neck, his exhales brushing warmly against her skin, slow, methodical, like he was memorizing this moment piece by piece. She swallowed, her walls clenching around his fingers, feeling her orgasm coil up inside her.

Eddie hummed low against her ear, "Cum for me, baby. Show me how much you like it." And then—just slightly—she felt the faintest nibble of his teeth against the skin of her ears. His fingers were thick and continuously probing inside her, god it felt so good that his other hand had to catch the back of her neck when she arched her back, while barely rolling her hips to his hand.

She moaned his name, telling him not to stop, her body was quivering feeling his thumb draw patterns on her clit. His mouth found her collarbones again, sucking and nibbling her soft skin while he continues to work her as she slowly loses her muscle control in his arms. Izzy was crying out his name and breathing unevenly, feeling her pulse rapidly speeding as something inside her twisted, her walls clenching on his fingers tighter.

Then finally...

Eddie's lips halted against her neck, a faint smile slowly forming when he felt her orgasm ripple from inside her and running through his fingers every time her body shivered, soaking his hands and her panties underneath. That smile meant satisfaction, longing, and vanity, knowing that this woman was only his to please. He slowly pulled out his hands, gently holding her waist again.

Izzy convinced herself that Eddie needed to blow some steam off by using her to fend off the guilt that was seeping into her mind.

So she exhaled slowly, pressing another quiet, grounding hand through his hair, before finally, gently saying his name.

“Eddie...”

He didn’t pull away. Instead, he lifted her up, swiftly yanking away her pajama shorts and soaking panties from her, bucking his hips up and kicking his sweatpants off, then placing her back to his lap. Pumping his cock with his hands soaked with her juices, the other one gripping and lifting her ass up, dragging her entrance near his cock.

"Yeah, Iz?"

Every fiber in her being was aching, her pussy throbbing seeing how hard he is for her, her last bit of conscience fighting with her body. She held his shoulders, pushing herself away slightly before he could enter her.

"Don't you feel guilty doing this to Anne?"

Eddie looked up to her and smirked, his hand was still working on his cock, dragging his tip leaking of pre cum, along her slick folds, making her lose all sense of rationality left in her body. When his tip found her entrance, his both hands grabbed both cheeks of her ass, and said,

"One of us will be sleeping with guilty tonight, baby." He confided. "But sure as hell, it's not going to be me."

He slammed her down with a tight grip on her ass, entering her fully. Izzy let out a groan and arched her back, grinding on him, forward and backward, repeatedly, keeping him deep inside her. His head tilted back her head board, groaning while he's reminded how good she was at riding him.

"Oh god, Eddie... fuck. I missed you so much."

"Mmm.. That's it. That's my girl." Izzy looked down at his smug face when he called her his. "No one comes close to you. Fucking no one." he hissed.

His hips bucked upwards, meeting each of her thrust, driving deeper inside her. Over and over again. His hand hooked in the back of her neck, pulling her closer to his face, capturing her sweet pomegranate tasting lips he hadn't tasted for a long time in a deep kiss, hands tightening his grip so she couldn't pull away. Izzy was not thinking anymore and her emotions fully took over.

Izzy held him by his muscular shoulders, inhaling the whiff of his sweat mingled with her floral-scented body wash he used. God, he smelled like she owned him. Eddie Brock was hers. Fucking hers.

She was still riding him, pushing her forehead against his to give space for her uneven breathing for a few seconds until Eddie leans in to taste her again. His lips trailed down sloppy kisses to her jaw, her neck, to her collarbone, then to the mound of her breast, his large hand easily popped her bouncing tits out of her Tank top, sucking and nibbling on them alternately. Her hands slid to the back of his neck, her nails grazing on his nape gently while he's devouring her chest.

"Mmm.. you feel better now?" she purred. "Use me, big guy... I'm entirely yours to ruin."

How quickly Eddie shifted from being gentle and romantic to this rough, head spinning, and sloppy fucked up man when he heard Izzy say she was his.

"Use you? You sure about that, baby?"

He pulled away from her breast, meeting her half-lidded gaze once again. He brushed her hair back but only to wrap her bundle of hair in one hand, tugging it back, making her gasp and arch her back again.

"I'm fucking obsessed with you, Izzy. Did you know that?" he snarled, guiding her hips with one hand, syncing each thrust with hers.

"Yes... yes, Eddie... I know... yes." she moaned, feeling the muscle in her stomach tensed up.

He didn't want it to end, but fucking her raw after a long time had him edging out already. He is deep inside her when she felt his cock twitch.

"See what you're doing to me, baby? I just want to fill you up right fucking now." he growled, capturing her lips once again.

Izzy could taste their shared breaths, his tongue sliding along hers warmly. His plump and hungry lips refusing to leave her even after the taste of her lip balm was long gone as she melted into him like she always did, fingers twisting into his hair, breath hitching, meeting him with equal need.

She was overwhelmed by the loud thump inside her chest. For sure this isn't just a rush by having forbidden sex with her engaged best friend, it was more. She wanted more of Eddie and he was fully giving it to her.

She rolled her hips, grinding her stimulated clit on his bushy pubic bone continuously, sending waves of pleasurable shocks throughout her body, feeling another coiling inside her stomach. His hands found her ass again, guiding her pace, bucking her hips up and down his cock.

"Mmm... god..." She breathed through their kiss as her warm juices gushed out and coating his cock as she climaxed.

"Fucking hell... I'm fucking close too, Iz." Eddie let out a pleased hum, still ramming his twitching cock inside her, holding her ass tighter as her legs fumbled from her orgasm. "Look at me, baby... look at me while you take it." he grunted.

His hips collapsed in her bed again, pushing her down his pulsating cock, filling her up with ropes of his thick and hot cum. Izzy gasped, her eyes half lidded and fucked out still meeting his. Her brows knitted, feeling each of his releases, mixing with hers, and some even seeped into her inner thighs. His hands moved to grip her waist, pushing her deeper, seeing Izzy bite her lip down while he ensures every last bit coated her walls. Eddie pulled her close, wrapping his arms around her as she rested her forehead against his, catching their breaths.

"Are you okay?" He asked, chest still heaving.

Izzy gave him a faint nod, still processing what happened. "Mm-hm... you?"

"Much better now that I'm where I'm supposed to be." He said, hands running gently up and down her back.

She pulled back just a little bit, searching his eyes, and gave him a warm smile, saying, "Keep talking like that, Brock, I'll start to think you're in love with me."

But he is. He goddamn is.

Too tired to talk anymore considering his long night, Eddie didn't respond. He kissed her again softly. He let his head rest against her pillows while his hands slid and eased against her waist as exhaustion settled, eyes shutting, and breath syncing with hers. It was a conversation he'll have with her in another time. For now, they both deserved to rest.

The first hints of dawn crept through the window. She should get up, think about what came next, and how she was going to explain this to her parents waking soon.

She shifted carefully, plopping beside him, pulling the blanket up over both of them. It felt strange—like home has never felt this comforting before. It did. But beside Eddie, it was different. Completely forgetting that she shouldn’t have let herself slip back into their affair but had anyway.

So she let herself close her eyes, just for a little while longer until the morning forced her to face it.

Anne barely glanced at the time as she stepped into the Life Foundation lobby. She hadn’t planned on coming here so soon or crossing the boundaries of her firm’s involvement in this case just yet, but after the night she had endured—and an awkward morning with Carl Brock—she couldn’t just sit around in their apartment.

Eddie ignored every single call she made, leaving her alone with Carl. Not a single message or heads-up about where he had gone the night before.

She found herself sitting and waiting outside Carlton Drake's office to work on the lawsuit she's been handling for him just to take her mind off the guilt she was carrying.

“Anne Weying?”

She met the curious gaze of a woman dressed in a lab coat.

“Yes?” Anne replied carefully.

The woman smiled slightly, tilting her head. “You’re Eddie Brock’s fiancée, right?”

Anne nodded in confirmation.

“I’m Dora Skirth. I work in Life Foundation’s research department. I’m waiting to speak to Carlton too.”

They exchanged a brief handshake when Dora settled down beside her and spoke again:

“I didn’t believe it when I heard Eddie was settling down.”

“Why’s that?” Anne’s brow furrowed slightly.

Dora looked like she was bracing herself to what she's about to tell. “We go way back,” she admitted, crossing her arms loosely. “Dated, actually.”

“You dated Eddie?” Anne repeated with her eyes blinking twice.

“Yeah. College. Back then, I thought he was the kind of guy you could actually build something with—at least until I realized what I was competing against.”

“Competing? With who?”

“Izzy Knight.”

-

One of the qualities that constitutes Eddie Brock is his Loyalty. Even during college, everyone saw it including his friends Mark and Dale, and Eddie's own girlfriend then, Dora Skirth. They met during a party during the last day of sophomore year where Izzy, yet again, forced her best friend to attend, a time in which their friendship was purely platonic. Dora was a biology student who Izzy introduced to Eddie as part of her playing cupid, and fortunately they hit it off.

That party was the first night Izzy did not have her emergency contact to take her home. Instead, Eddie was back at his dorm already banging Dora out of her mind.

Nothing was wrong with her. She was a sweet and smart girl, had long wavy black hair, glasses, and has a rocking body. She often appeared reserved in front of other people, but was not that different to the other horny college girls.

The problem did not lay with Izzy at this time...

She did not look at Eddie Brock as more than just her best bud, but that doesn't mean she did not rely on him as much. The first few months of Eddie and Dora were a such a blast.

She thought this was it. He was the guy.

What made it harder was how oblivious Eddie and Izzy both seemed to be about their dynamic. To them, it was just the way things were. Their relationship was so well-known that the first time Dora got ditched by Eddie was when they were supposed to meet her parents for dinner at a restaurant. She had reminded him repeatedly throughout the week, knowing her folks were looking forward to finally meeting the guy she was serious about. Dora was already at the restaurant with her parents when Eddie was almost an hour late. He called a couple of hours later, apologizing for blowing them off because Izzy had gotten sick and couldn’t make it home, so he had stayed to take care of her in his dorm.

Ultimately resulting to their first break up.

They got back together at some point later. Eddie reassured Dora that she had nothing to worry about—Izzy was just his best friend. She believed him and resumed dating.

To let her into his world more, Eddie brought her along to their group’s usual after-class taco nights with Mark, Dale, and Izzy. But it quickly became clear that the boys were far more fond of Izzy than they were of Dora, adding more fuel to fire.

Date gone wrong emergencies, Knight family dinners, late-night study breakdowns—Izzy always called, and Eddie always answered. The pattern repeated itself so often that it became a cruel joke to Dora.

Whenever Eddie bailed on her, she automatically knew what, or better yet, who the reason was. It was so natural for the two of them that neither even questioned it. Izzy had no clue and didn’t see how he dropped everything for her, nor noticed the way his gaze lingered, even the way his eyes softened whenever she laughed.

She didn’t realize that when Eddie rushed to her side, it was instinctive. It happened over and over. Big moments. Small ones.

The common denominator among Eddie’s former girlfriends was that they all realized he was loyal—but not to them. His loyalty, undisputedly, belonged to Izzy.

Every single one of them eventually asked the same question: "Is it me or Izzy?"

Poor girls did not stood a chance. His answer never wavered. So eventually, even Dora had to admit defeat.

When they broke up for good, he was devastated—and he couldn’t even tell his best friend why. Do you remember the first time Izzy and Eddie kissed at a party, right after he had broken up with his girlfriend?

Yeah. That was it.

That night, Eddie finally realized why most of his relationships failed. It was because they weren’t her.

It doesn't matter what time it is or if the weather in San Francisco is fucked up again, Eddie Brock will always show up for her.

And now, she's doing the same for him.

-

Hearing those words were uncomfortable, making Anne force out a short and breathy laugh while shaking her head. “Well, Eddie’s hardly her type. Izzy’s dating Drake.”

Dora just gave her a knowing look, like she had already predicted Anne would say that. Denial.

“That’s what I heard too,” Dora admitted. “But word around the company is they went out, sure—except she left early. And Eddie picked her up that night.”

Anne’s smile faltered.

She barely processed Dora’s expression before her own mind started filling in the gaps, before the pieces lined up on their own. She felt her face start to burn up while the cold realization creeps in.

Izzy left early. Eddie picked her up.

And suddenly, she was back in that moment—that night, when Eddie had come home just before dawn, moving like someone who was worn out and tired yet did not mind at all, looking like something within him was settled. He brushed it again with some excuse of a case he's been handling that's finally working out on his favor and she naively accepted that excuse.

Dora exhaled lightly, studying Anne now, taking in the way her shoulders tensed, the way she blinked too quickly. She felt sorry for her, knowing what it must've felt considering she's been through that as well.

“Hey—sorry,” Dora murmured softly. “I shouldn’t have said it like that. It was just some rumors circling around. And if it were true, Eddie's probably acting as her chauffeur again."

Even Dora didn't believe the word she just said.

Anne took a deep breath to compose herself, shaking her head, and forcing her smile back into place. “No, it’s—” She let out a shaky breath. “It’s fine.”

It wasn’t.

Because she brushed off Carl’s comments, dismissed his smug remarks about Eddie and Izzy, chalked them up to some petty spitefulness.

However, Dora wasn’t Carl.

Dora Skirth was just another person from Eddie’s past, casually confirming what Anne had spent months ignoring. It was almost unfair. After all those years, would Eddie Brock still choose Isobel Knight over his goddamn fiancé?

Is it fair that even Anne has to question where his priorities lie?

A door opened down the hall, and they both instinctively glanced toward it, watching as a young assistant stepped out, tapping away at a tablet before glancing up at them.

"Mr. Drake will see you now."

Anne inhaled sharply, nodding. Stealing one last glance at Dora before following the assistant inside, pushing the thoughts down, locking them away until she had to decide what to do with it. At least she's got an idea where Eddie ran off to last night.

Izzy barely slept. The next morning, she purposely waited for her parents to wake up and get downstairs, telling them all about what happened.

“How is he?” her mom asked out of concern.

“Still asleep.” Izzy muttered, her mind kept replaying the amount of times Eddie made her cum last night and right now, he was still tangled in her sheets.

Her dad exhaled sharply, shaking his head like the entire situation sat wrong with him. “What the hell was Anne thinking?”

Izzy glanced at him, but he wasn’t looking at her—just staring down into his coffee like it held an answer for something neither of them could fix.

“She wanted them to fix things.” Her mom answered calmly, knowing her husband can be protective over their kids

Her dad scoffed. “Carl Brock doesn’t fix things.”

Neither Izzy nor her mom argued with that. He was right. Mr. Knight took on the paternal role for Eddie while they were growing up. The former military man was obviously more sensitive to the topic since he did not just offered help given the circumstance, he raised him to be a Man. It takes a man to raise one with stability, loyalty, and earned respect which Eddie never had from his own father.

Her dad finally looked at her, eyes sharp, serious. “You got to him before he did anything reckless?”

“Yes, dad." His tensed shoulders barely loosened with her answer, but it was enough to tell her he needed to hear that.

“You did the right thing bringing him here, honey." Her mom said and reached for her coffee.

Izzy nodded, not trusting herself to say anything.

She didn’t know how today was going to go, whether Eddie would go back to his apartment and let himself face what happened or just let things be for a while.

All she knew was taking care of Eddie wasn’t even a question, even if it meant going against her own words to give him comfort last night, and letting herself do something she wasn’t sure she should have.

Her parents watched her zone out and think deeply, like she was holding something back, but they didn’t ask.

And thank God for that.

Because Izzy wasn’t ready to name whatever she had done.

Not long after, they heard footsteps coming down the stairs until emerged into the dining table, running a hand through his bed hair, shirt wrinkled from their last night's activities, and his eyes still exhausted but better than it was before. He sat next to Izzy who was already halfway through her breakfast, gauging what's about to unfold. Her mom instantly walked up to his side, sliding a freshly poured cup of coffee to his hands before wrapping him in a warm embrace.

“You okay, sweetheart?” Izzy's mom murmured.

Eddie blinked, caught off guard for half a second before clearing his throat, gripping the mug with both hands. “Uh—yeah. Yeah, I’m—”

Her hand lifted, carefully threading through his hair, fussing like she had done since he was a kid—grounding him like he had nothing to worry about. Eddie swallowed hard, exhaling through his nose, nodding slightly, accepting the familiar affection and warmth given to him by her parents.

Home.

"You should stay, son. Take the guest room. It's always been yours." Mr. Knight offered, giving him a steady gaze he can't say no to.

Before he could even give an answer, her mom gave him a light squeeze and said, "Besides, our annual barbecue will happen tomorrow, you're not about to miss that, Eddie. The aunties are raving about talking to you."

Eddie froze, coffee halfway to his lips, before narrowing his eyes at Izzy, who was barely holding back a laugh. In this mind, he could barely survive his best friend's chaos alone, but the whole pack of Knights tomorrow?

The aunties...

Interrogations...

Backhanded compliments about his upcoming marriage—which was currently on the rocks.

A full twenty-four hours before he had to survive their unfiltered remarks and relentless curiosity.

He sighed, shaking his head, muttering, “I hate this house sometimes.”

Izzy snorted, finally breaking into laughter. Hearing the sound of that made his heart flutter crazy again.

Eddie might’ve been exhausted and avoiding everything outside this house, but staying?

He wasn’t about to say no to that.

Boy, they're in for another ride.

Anne's car pulled up a short distance near the Knight mansion later that day. Her fiancé still wasn't responding to any of her calls and texts, and based on her brief encounter with Dora and Carlton, she found herself looking for answers as to where Eddie Brock might went. She wanted her instincts to be wrong, just for once.

But there he was. In the driveway. Helping Mrs. Knight out of the car, while Izzy and her dad got out as well, looking like they just came back from grocery shopping.

His crooked smile.

It looked like nothing bad has ever happened to them. Like he hadn’t had a huge fight with his bride-to-be. Dora was right. Eddie had always ran back to Izzy, and Anne was just painfully watching from the sidelines.

She saw how the parents already went inside the mansion, leaving Eddie and Izzy to carry all the grocery bags inside, laughing and sharing affectionate glances to one another. It's not like she was seeing anything more beyond their usual smiles and giggles, it wasn’t anything Anne hadn’t seen before, but she is seeing clearly from another perspective.

He looked at his best friend differently. His shoulders were relaxed, his goofy grin, the fine lines creasing from the outer corners of his eyes, and the way he naturally slung his arms around her shoulders, and she leaned into him as they entered the mansion door.

"Oh shit. Can I have the keys to dad's car? I forgot my popcorn." Izzy said as they stepped inside, making Eddie chuckle and reach for the car keys inside his pocket and tossing it to her.

"You make it sound like it's an actual emergency, Iz." He said, making his way towards the kitchen to get a glass of water.

"But it is, Brock! I'm telling you. That popcorn got me through some tough times. Be happy that I'm even sharing it with you!" She shouted while walking towards the car.

Izzy popped the trunk open and pulled out the familiar tub of popcorn, shaking it slightly, pleased that it was still full. The last thing she needed was a half-empty container after spending half the ride bragging about it. She barely had time to turn toward the house before a voice cut through the quiet evening air.

“Izzy.”

She froze.

Anne stood a few feet away, having already stepped out of her car, walking towards her with her arms stiff at the sides. Her expression wasn’t angry—no, that would’ve been easier to deal with.

Instead, it was tired. Worn. Like she had spent the entire night crying, thinking, and waiting for the last bit of patience she had left to slip between her fingers.

Izzy blinked, shifting her stance, still holding the damn tub of popcorn like she needed to protect it from the havoc radiating from the woman in front of her.

“Annie.” she said, hesitating, scanning Anne’s face, trying to read whatever had just cracked open between them. "What are you doing here?"

Anne exhaled, shaking her head in disbelief, pressing her lips together. She can't believe she was acting like everything was normal. She huffed a bitter breath, refusing to be fooled. "I saw Eddie go inside. Tell him to come home with me."

Izzy adjusted her grip around the tub, forcing her voice into something lighter. “Annie. He's hurting. You can't force him to go home. Not with Carl—"

"Carl’s right, isn’t he? Eddie is not just a best friend to you. You’re something else entirely. Don’t you lie to my face, Izzy." Anne cut her off, taking a step closer to Izzy, her eyes sharp.

For a minute, Izzy contemplated. If this woman going to insist for Eddie to come home, forcing him to suffer inside that apartment with his dead beat and abusive father, then there's no sense in holding anything back. Not anymore. The thought of him getting hurt again just for Anne to prove a fucking point got her riled up.

I just wanted to get my goddamn, popcorn. Izzy thought.

"What do you want to hear? The truth?" Her voice was smooth, unwavering, as she crossed her arms, tilting her head slightly. "Aren’t you a lawyer, Annie? What do you think?"

The horror in Anne's face was evident. She inhaled sharply with anger pressing against her ribs. She shook her head, as if trying to recalibrate, trying to take in the weight of it all.

"You’re actually admitting it. I can't believe it..." Anne muttered, "and you're not ashamed."

Shame was one of the things Izzy felt, if she was being honest. But none of that mattered now. She dragged a slow hand through her hair, amusement flickering briefly, but nothing playful. "What exactly do you want me to deny?"

Anne scoffed sharply, her nails digging into her palms. "He's getting married to me, Izzy! And you—hiding under the best friend title, making sure I do not worry about you pining on Eddie under my nose the entire time.."

Her breath hitched slightly, and when she spoke again, "For what? To feed your adrenaline-seeking frenzy? You think what you two have is real?"

Izzy finally moved, stepping toward her—unshaken. "I cant speak for Eddie. I could only speak for me. But let me tell you something, if you hurt him again, I'll make sure he will never run back to you."

The lawyer, who made a living from using her words to win in court, was stunned at Izzy's own version of confession. It stung more to know that what she felt towards her fiancé was not just a quick bliss, but a deep rooted real one.

"I tried to help you, Anne. Backing off is one thing I don’t mind." She exhaled slowly, holding her gaze. "What I do mind is when Brock gets hurt like this. I’ll make sure hell is bent to accommodate those who do that to him."

When she ended whatever relationship she had with Eddie a month ago, she was convinced that she was doing the right thing. She had wanted his engagement with Anne to work, to survive, even if it hurt her. She had no defense, no justification for herself. She had known her place as the other woman. The one who didn’t belong in the picture and had no right to ask for more.

And it had been painful.

But not as gut-wrenching as seeing him succumb to years of trauma, triggered by the very person she had tried to help.

Anne inhaled sharply, her posture rigid, fingers curling into fists at her sides. "You slept with another woman’s man, Isobel." Her voice cut through the air like a blade. "You’re a horrible, disgusting human. If anyone’s going to hell here, it’s you."

Disgusting. The word made Izzy chuckle darkly as she stepped closer, letting Anne feel the heat radiating from the anger inside her body.

She was done. She had convinced herself that stepping aside was the right choice, had believed Eddie deserved the stability she thought Anne could give him—until she finally realized the truth.

Anne hadn’t deserved her help.

She hadn’t deserved Izzy’s sacrifice.

And now, after everything, Izzy was done pretending.

Because stepping aside had never actually protected Eddie.

Isobel Knight was not going to make that mistake again.

"Now, Annie," she whispered tauntingly, "where’s the fun in chasing single men, huh?"

Anne’s expression twisted, disgust flashing across her face, her hands tightening into fists, as Izzy said—

"You're going to wait for Eddie, that is, if he comes home." Staring down at Anne with her dark eyes, feeling nothing but protectiveness, and continued,

"Now, get the fuck away from here."

And simply turned, walking inside the mansion, holding unto the tub of her popcorn, shaking off what had just happened like it wasn’t even worth her time.

When Anne Weying drove away, tears forming in her eyes, gripping on the steering wheel tighter. Her chest was heavy with pain, thinking to herself that she should've had known. Again, she felt like it wasn't fair considering she spent years with him, agreed to marry him, yet the moment Izzy strode back to his life, he never had to choose.

In the last twenty-four hours, Eddie Brock had managed to put Izzy through a series of emotional ups and downs she normally wouldn’t even bother dealing with. She never claimed to be great at handling big emotions—she had spent years perfecting the art of dodging them entirely. The old Izzy would’ve booked a flight out of the country the second she saw the situation dipping—find a distraction, pretended none of it mattered, and drowned herself in a whirlwind of impulsive decisions just to avoid sitting with feelings she didn’t want to name.

But the new Izzy?

The Izzy who had spent the last day watching Eddie unravel, stared Anne down in the driveway, admitted something she never had before, and let herself say the words out loud?

She wasn’t running anymore.

No, she was going to plop down on the couch next to Eddie, shove her legs across his lap, and share this damn tub of popcorn with him while they watched some ridiculous movie neither of them would actually pay attention to until it prompts 'Are you still watching?'.

Fina-fucking-ly, after years of dodging, teasing, and pretending—she wasn’t afraid of where this was going.

Eddie lounged in her bed like it was partly his now. Lately, he’d been different—the space between them wasn’t something he could tolerate anymore. He was more present, their intimacy was more constant and pronounced as ever, like he couldn’t get enough of her. And truthfully, Izzy didn’t mind. There was something about the way he claimed her.

She was perched on her bed, cross-legged, her laptop on her knees as she scrolled through pages of dresses. It was another regular lazy day for Izzy and an after work unwinding for Eddie. She wore a rose printed white tank top and matching shorts that made up her perfect pajama set. He lounged behind her, sprawled across the pillows with one arm tucked behind his head while the other slowly traced up and down her arms.

“You know,” he muttered, sitting up, his lips brushed against her shoulder, “this whole shopping thing would be more productive if you, dunno... picked one.”

“You know,” she echoed, her gaze fixed on the screen, “this would be faster if you stopped distracting me.”

When it was mentioned said Eddie had been extra affectionate lately—it meant, he's really all in on him and Izzy. His lips pressed gentle, lingering kisses along her shoulders and neck, his breath brushing against her skin. Izzy didn’t protest, didn’t pull away. If anything, she leaned into it. He'd been like this since that night in Muir Woods.

His movements slowing slightly as his gaze flicked to the screen. “That one,” he said, nodding toward a sleek, elegant dress displayed in the screen. His lips resumed their trail along her shoulder as he added, “That’d look perfect on you.”

“It's nearly two grand,” she announced flatly upon seeing the price tag, turning her head slightly just enough to shoot him a pointed look. “For a dress.”

“Yep,” Eddie replied casually, his kisses undeterred. “So buy it.”

“Oh, sure. Let me just pull two grand out of thin air.”

Eddie didn’t miss a beat. He shifted, reaching into his pocket and pulling out his credit card with an almost nonchalant ease. He placed it beside her laptop, his lips quirking into a soft smile.

“Here. Go nuts.”

She blinked at him in disbelief before letting out a breath of laughter. “Wow,” she teased, raising an eyebrow. “Your show must really be rolling in it now, huh?”

“You could say that. Or you could just say 'Thank you for spoiling me.'.” He tilted his head, the mischievous glint in his eyes softening slightly as he added, “I mean it, Iz. Get what you want.”

Izzy rolled her eyes, the amusement still lingering in her smile as she placed the card back beside her laptop. I guess sex is not the only thing Eddie didn’t hold back from.

She resumed her scrolling, and Eddie rested his head against her shoulder, his lips brushing her skin once more. You could say he's having an advanced honeymoon phase but not to the woman he's bound to get married to, but to his best friend.

Eddie leaned back against the headboard, the card still sitting on the bed beside Izzy’s laptop. He watched her with silent pleasure as she shifted in her spot, his fingernails grazing gently along her shoulder. She clicked a few buttons, then paused dramatically, tilting her head just enough to smirk at him. If anyone could take advantage of the rare Eddie Brock generosity, it would be her as shameless as she is.

“Alright, Brock,” she cooed yet her tone laced with mischief. “The dress is settled. But… you know what would really crank it up a notch?”

Eddie raised an eyebrow, already sensing where this was headed. “This ought to be good,” he muttered, his grin tugging at the corners of his mouth. “Alright, Knight, hit me.”

“Heels,” she said, dragging the word out like it was some grand revelation. “Tall, sleek, head turning heels. You know the kind.”

See? Shamelessly adorable.

“Let me guess,” he said. “Not just any heels—the kind that make you call me after a few hours to come wherever you are with fuzzy slippers because your feet hurt?”

She gasped playfully, eyes widening, pretending to be offended. He did know her so well.

"First of all, how dare you? Second, you clearly have no idea what you’re talking about.” She leaned back into him, her tone dipping into a teasing drawl.

“Third… you also have no idea how hot you are right now.”

Eddie smirked, his lips brushing against her ear and whispers, “Oh, I know,” the confidence in his tone both infuriating and endearing. “That’s why you better wrap this up quickly. Can’t have you distracted when I’m on a roll.”

His newfound confidence was magnetic, so irresistible that drew her to him in a way she hadn’t expected. She had spent years coaxing him out of his shell, watching him struggle against his insecurities, and now, here he was—a fucking tease, delicious, and more captivating than ever. She can't help but to bite her lip down. Damn, it was impossible not to get turned on and ignore the heat rising in her chest.

“You’re really leaning into the whole ‘sugar daddy’ thing, aren’t you?”

“Only for you, baby.” Eddie shot back, his voice smooth, his arm wrapping loosely around her waist as he settled in closer. “Now, go on—pick the heels. You're expensive but I don't mind spending my money on you.”

It seems like their previous conversation paved a way for them to dive deeper into whatever they are. Izzy was living the dream. A dream she wouldn't admit to herself that she wanted. But the truth about dreams is they don’t always end with soft awakenings. Sometimes, they end abruptly, with the sharp sting of a scalding pain that forces you back into reality.

And what are you supposed to do when you get burnt?

When something scorching presses against your skin, your instincts tell you to pull away—to retreat before the pain becomes unbearable. But Izzy? Izzy plays with fire, wants it closer, somehow attracting it to consume her. And now, after all the secret meetings, the unabashed intimacy, she finally feels the heat sinking in. The pain of playing with it is inevitable. The real question is—how long will she hold on to Eddie? To what extent does she have to get herself burned until she realizes it was time to let go?

Playing with fire, for Izzy, also meant wearing her Prada Sunglasses inside the mall. Yep. No sunlight, just something to hide the fact that she's rolling her eyes at the couple walking in front of her. Apparently, Carlton Drake happened to ask Anne about Izzy during a deposition she was working on for the Life Foundation and their conversation sparked Anne's curiosity about her unpredictable personality. She was surprised to hear Eddie's best friend dated the billionaire she was working for and asked why didn't he tell her about it. On top of that, how could he say no if his fiancé wants to get to know his treasured best friend more?

If only she knew...

First Degree Burn

The wild card was painstakingly dragging her feet slightly behind Eddie and Anne, her heels clicking against the mall floor as she adjusted her sunglasses. To anyone passing by, she might’ve appeared perfectly unbothered but within, she was counting every second until this supposed "bonding" ends. A third wheel wasn’t exactly her preferred role, especially when it came about to couple she found herself involved with in one way or another.

Their first stop was Eddie’s wardrobe—a rare moment of unity between Anne and Izzy as they both agreed it was time to retire Eddie’s infamous, godforsaken hoodie that somehow still made several appearances on The Brock Report. Eddie couldn’t help but chuckle at the sight of his best friend’s cheeky, dimpled grin as she teamed up with Anne against his questionable fashion choices. For a fleeting moment, Eddie let himself soak in the rare warmth.

But that was short-lived.

As soon as they stepped into the store, it became a silent battleground as to who knows Eddie Brock more. Anne, meticulous and poised as always, was on a quest to refine Eddie’s look, holding up sleek blazers with an air of determination. "Honey," she called to him, "you should wear this to look more professional."

Izzy, meanwhile, rolled her eyes dramatically. Good thing she was wearing her sun glasses. She pulled a rugged leather jacket from the rack and tossed it toward Eddie. "No, this..." she countered, "is what Brock should wear. You’re not just a host—you’re the guy everyone wants to have a beer with."

Eddie stood between them, caught in the cross roads of their differing styles, careful not to make anyone of them upset. Anne’s vision spoke to his role in front of the camera, the polished professional she believed he could be. Izzy scoffed silently, arguing that the leather jacket fully captured his essence—the casual, unfiltered, and unapologetic charm that made The Brock Report what it was.

None of them was backing down.

It was a tamed exchange between them yet Eddie couldn’t help but shake his head in surrender. It wasn’t really about the clothes; it was about how they saw him. And while their opinions couldn’t be more different, the sheer effort they put into arguing over his look only reminded Eddie how deeply both women cared—each in their own way. Now, he's weighing his options carefully.

“It’s perfect for you,” Anne was still championing the blazer. “More refined and elevated. An upgrade you need for the show.”

Izzy, leaning lazily against a nearby rack with her arms crossed, raised an eyebrow and shot Eddie a knowing grin. “Yeah, Brock. How much is the real estate commission lately?” she joked, earning a forced smile from Anne.

“Come on, big guy. The leather jacket is you. Let’s be honest, its way cooler.”

Eddie chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck as he glanced between the two women. Finally, Eddie reached for the leather jacket, sliding it on and adjusting the collar with an amused smile. “I gotta say,” he murmured, glancing at his reflection in the store’s mirror, “this feels more like me.” He turned to Anne with an apologetic smile. “Sorry, babe. The blazer’s nice, but the show’s called The Brock Report, not House Hunters.”

The power she had.

He chuckled, casting a glance toward Izzy, who tugged her sunglasses down and shot him a quick wink, clearly pleased with his choice.

Feeling defeated, Anne sighed, though a faint smile tugged at her lips. “I should’ve known,” she said, shaking her head with a soft laugh. "if that’s what you want, it’s your choice." she continued before stepping back. "I’ll see if they have a new stock in your size."

Izzy saw how dismayed Anne was with his choice and how oblivious Eddie was to it. Her best friend did look absolutely delicious in that jacket but her guilt creeped in, and she knew what to do. The moment Anne walked away, Eddie felt a gentle nudge against his arm. He turned to see Izzy leaning against the rack, holding out the blazer to his reach. She placed the sunglasses on top of her head, and he can now see her neutral expression.

"What’s gotten into you?" he asked, narrowing his eyes.

"Just pick the blazer, big guy," she murmured under her breath so only he could hear. "She’s trying. I realized this is a big deal for her and I’m not about to ruin it."

Eddie tilted his head, giving her a knowing look. "You’re the one who pushed for the leather jacket, Iz." he reminded her, feeling both confused and amused. "Now you’re backing out? What happened to being ‘timeless and rugged’?"

Izzy sighed, her fingers massaging her forehead as she avoided his gaze. "Look, you know I hate doing this, but... she’s your fiancé. She just wants you to look your best—her version of best." She finally looked at him. "So, make her happy, alright?"

Eddie stared at her for a moment, his chest ached when he noticed the guilt in her voice. He knew Izzy has always been thoughtful of others despite her constant reckless choices. He also knew how much she loved things being her way, so this was a huge sacrifice on her part. His instinct told him to stick with the leather jacket—it was him, after all—but his best friend's insistence weighed on him. With a small sigh, he shook his head, running a hand through his hair.

"Fine." he muttered.

When Anne returned, a fresh leather jacket draped over her arm, Eddie straightened and cleared his throat. "You know, babe," he began, his tone warm but steady, "I’ve been thinking. The blazer might actually be the better choice after all." Her face lit up in surprise, her smile genuine as she handed the jacket to the staff.

"Really? That’s great! I promise you’ll look amazing in it."

Eddie caught Izzy’s gaze as Anne started talking to the staff about sizes. Izzy gave him the faintest nod, though this time it carried a quiet understanding rather than triumph. She did not mind giving it away when she saw how happy it made Anne feel. She's done far worse towards Anne, unforgivable things she does not have the slighest clue. Letting this moment belong to her felt like the least Izzy could do. A small gesture to balance the scales she’d tipped so unfairly. Not for the points for forgiveness, not for herself, but for Anne—the person Eddie would come home to by the end of the day.

The cashier handed Eddie the neatly packed blazer, his card now safely tucked back in his wallet. Anne stood beside him, her smile bright with satisfaction as she brushed her hand against his arm.

“You’ll look amazing in this,” she said warmly, her excitement radiating. “Trust me, it’s exactly what the show needs.”

Eddie forced a smile but Anne didn’t seem to notice. It wasn’t about the blazer—he didn’t mind wearing it, really—but a part of him felt like something was missing, an piece of himself left behind on the rack. He asked himself: is this who he really was? Or was he once again settling for the path of least resistance, the thing that wouldn’t disrupt the peace of their world? Again, he is trying to convince himself it didn’t matter. But deep down, the pull of something he wasn’t sure he was allowed to want was there.

As they exited the store, Eddie adjusted the shopping bag in his hand, glancing over his shoulder at Izzy. "You coming?" he asked.

"You guys go ahead," Izzy replied smoothly, waving them off with a flick of her hand. "I just saw something that caught my eye. Don’t wait up."

Anne didn’t question it, tugging Eddie’s arm lightly as she led him toward another shop. Eddie lingered for a moment, his gaze meeting Izzy’s briefly. She knew he wouldn't leave her behind so she mouthed "Go, Go!", her head nudging towards Anne's direction, her smile returning as if to reassure him. Satisfied, Eddie turned to follow his fiancé, disappearing into the flow of mall traffic.

Once they were gone, Izzy straightened and turned back to the counter. The cashier glanced up at her with a polite smile. "Can I help you with something?"

"Yeah," Izzy said then gestured toward the leather jacket Eddie had tried on earlier. "I’ll take that one. Same size." She pulled out her card, as she glanced toward the door, checking if they truly left.

She didn’t need him to choose the jacket—it wasn’t about that. But a part of her wanted him to have it anyway, a piece of himself he didn’t have to sacrifice to make someone else happy. She had been selfish enough to keep up with their affair, it was the least that she could do.

"Gift receipt?" the cashier asked.

"Sure."

She tucked her card back into her wallet and took the bag with a small nod of thanks, her fingers gripping the handle tightly as she turned toward the door. A faint smile tugged at her lips as she walked out into the mall, the jacket now safely in hand. For now, though, she’d let Eddie live in his new blazer, playing the role he needed to play. But when the time was right, Izzy would give him the jacket—because what she felt for him was like how fire needed oxygen, burning with the kind of intensity that didn’t beg nor asked.

Looped around his arms, Anne was a walking ball of sunshine, enthusiastically chatting with her fiancé about wanting to grab a cup of coffee, and making an effort to glance back and include Izzy in the conversation.

"Izzy, you drink coffee, right?"

"As needed." Izzy flicked her gaze toward Anne, her lips curving into a faint smile when she replied, glancing towards Eddie, who was already watching her with a subtle smirk.

"She needs food first," he interjected, glancing at Izzy with a knowing look. "She can’t have coffee on an empty stomach—it messes her up."

Izzy paused, her lips curving into a cheeky smile as she adjusted her sunglasses, her gaze flicking playfully between Eddie and Anne. "I guess someone knows me too well." she teased lightly.

After a couple hours more of shopping, they ended up at a quiet corner of a restaurant for a late lunch. Eddie insisted on taking the bags back to his car, leaving Anne and Izzy to order first. The atmosphere at the table shifted again the moment Anne called over the waiter.

“I’ll have the Salmon with Quinoa and Spinach,” Anne said, before gesturing toward Eddie’s empty chair. “And the same for him.”

What?

Izzy blinked, her brows lifting as she leaned back in her seat with her arms crossed. “Salmon?” she asked, skeptic. “You do know Eddie’s practically married to burgers, right?”

“He needs to eat healthy. The wedding’s coming up, and staying fit is important,” Anne said with a smile that didn’t falter as she folded her hands neatly on the table.

“Fair enough,” Izzy muttered, reaching for the menu. Fighting the urge to shake her head in dismay with Anne's order. She couldn't help but wonder how much her best friend loves this woman. The only thing that this day proved to her was how Eddie was a completely different person in his fiance's eyes. She continued,

“Double cheeseburger. Extra fries. Thanks.”

The waiter nodded and left, and Izzy leaned back in her chair, catching Anne’s gaze briefly. She didn’t press further, biting back her instinct to defend his usual choices. If Anne thought she knew what was best for him, assuming that she did, then Izzy wouldn’t interfere. Eddie returned just as their orders were set down and his smile faltered slightly the moment his eyes landed on the plate in front of him—the delicate salmon, the bed of quinoa, the neatly arranged spinach. He sat down slowly, a flicker of disappointment crossing his face.

Oh boy. Izzy didn’t miss it.

He sighed, poking at the salmon with his fork. Izzy watched him for a moment longer. She didn’t say it outright, but she knew Eddie well enough to see the guy who loved greasy burgers and simple comforts force himself to like what's chosen in front of him. She didn’t watch him directly, though. Instead, she kept her gaze on her burger as she sliced it cleanly in half, taking her time with the first half while she waited for him to finish his meal.

She ordered extra fries for a reason, to compensate for what she's going to do next.

When Eddie finally finished, he set his fork down with a quiet sigh, leaning back in his chair. His expression gave it all away—the meal hadn’t come close to satisfying him, and she knew it never would. Without a word, Izzy slid the remaining half of her burger onto his plate casually as if it was the most natural thing in the world.

He glanced down at the burger, then up at her, his lips twitching into a grin despite himself. “Someone's getting soft.” he teased but filled with quiet appreciation.

"Just eat the damn burger, Brock."

He didn’t hesitate as he picked up the burger, taking a bite with the kind of contentment she’d expected all along. Anne, sitting beside him, shifted slightly in her chair, her fork pausing mid-cut. Her eyes flicked between Eddie’s sudden happiness and the half-empty plate in front of Izzy. She couldn’t help but feel... disconnected when she realized that she wouldn’t have done that—not because she didn’t care, but because it wouldn’t have even crossed her mind. His best friend seemed to understand him in ways that felt effortless and instinctive. It wasn’t jealousy she felt but rather an uneasy awareness that there were parts of Eddie she might never fully reach.

Izzy kept her focus on her phone, scrolling aimlessly, the screen lighting up her otherwise expressionless face. She didn’t need to look at Anne to know the questions forming behind her gaze. Izzy wasn’t interested in explaining herself—not to Anne, not to anyone. Eddie shot her another happy look mid-bite, and though she still didn’t meet his eyes, the faintest smirk tugged at her lips. She didn’t need acknowledgment, just the satisfaction of knowing he’d get through the rest of the day with a little less tension in his shoulders.

For Izzy, that was enough. It always had been.

"Time to go?” Anne asked and swung her bag over her shoulder, a soft sigh escaping her lips as she glanced at Eddie still comfortably reclined, his attention fixed on his phone screen. He didn’t respond immediately, his posture relaxed, his thumb lazily scrolling. Before he could answer, Izzy chimed in, her voice casual but laced with a smile.

“How about we wait for another ten or fifteen minutes?”

Anne blinked, paused as she glanced at Izzy, puzzled. There was no explanation, no follow-up, it was just Izzy cooly scrolling her own phone. Confused, she settled back into her chair, her curiosity bubbling and she turned to Eddie, raising an eyebrow in question, but all she received was a shrug.

He didn’t elaborate, and neither did Izzy.

It was like a timed magic trick, Anne tried to distract herself, sipping what remained of her drink and idly scanning the restaurant. Izzy remained absorbed in her phone, her cheek resting on her hand. It wasn’t until Eddie suddenly pushed back his chair, rising fluidly and slipping his phone into his pocket, that the pieces began clicking into place.

“Be right back,” he excused himself, weaving through the tables toward the restroom.

Anne sat frozen, her lips parting in silent realization as the scene replayed in her mind—the timing, the unspoken understanding between her fiancé and his best friend, the way Izzy’s seemingly casual suggestion had lined up perfectly. Her gaze flicked to Izzy, who hadn’t even glanced up, her attention still on her phone. She knew Eddie well. Too well.

It wasn’t romantic, she told herself, but it was enough to make her skin prickle. She couldn’t shake the lingering thought that this unspoken system in place was theirs, and Anne couldn’t help but feel like an outsider looking in.

Two days later, Eddie pulled up to the Knight Mansion after work.

When Eddie walked into her bedroom, Izzy was sitting up on her bed, scrolling through her phone until her gaze flicked up, and she saw him leaning against the doorframe, the rugged leather jacket hugging his shoulders, fitting him like a glove.

So fucking hot.

Her brow arched as she set the phone down beside her, smirking. “Well, look who’s decided to embrace his Brockness,” she teased.

Eddie grinned, stepping inside, closing the door behind him, and shrugging as if it were no big deal. “Someone left this in my car the other day...” he said casually. “Pretty solid choice, don’t you think?”

“Not bad,” Izzy murmured, leaning back on her elbows as she eyed him. Her gaze lingered, tracing the way the jacket framed him—strong, sure, unmistakably him. “Well, I did not want to steal your fiance's thunder so I just left it there.”

Eddie chuckled, his grin softening as he walked closer. “You think I didn’t notice?” He stopped just in front of her, tilting his head slightly, then climbed on top of her slowly. “Come on, baby. Did you really think I wouldn’t figure it out?”

She rolled her eyes but didn’t look away, her smirk tugging wider. He was now pinning her down. “I just figured I’d save you the trouble of missing it. You seemed... attached.”

“Attached, huh?” Eddie echoed, his voice dropping making her stomach flip. He leaned closer, his knees spreading her legs. “Guess this jacket makes us even?”

"If I’d wandered off again, I would’ve found you something better,” she shot back playfully. “You know me—I don’t settle.”

Eddie froze for half a beat when Izzy mentioned wandering off. Anyone else could have dismissed her words but he hated it—how natural it sounded coming from her lips, how easily she acted like she could pull herself away from him and not feel the gravity of it. She had always been the wildcard in his life, the constant he couldn’t control, and the idea of her going away again felt like losing a piece of himself he couldn’t afford to lose.

"You're not wandering off,” he commanded, making her pause. “Not until I’m married to Anne. You stay.”

Izzy’s smirk faltered for a moment, and she didn’t argue, already knowing what he felt. He made sure she knew that previously. Instead, she let out a sigh, circling her arms around his neck.

Eddie closed the gap, his hand brushing lightly against her cheek as his lips met hers. He kissed her, slow and steady, their eyes were closed but their lips moved like a dance they’d both memorized, tasting her favorite pomegranate flavored lip balm she always applied on her soft lips. His tongue swiping on her bottom lip that made her mouth part slowly, deepening their kiss while his large frame pressed against hers.

Since the night he made her say you're mine, their dynamic shifted. Eddie took the lead more often than not. He knows he's engaged and is about to get married, but something about having no barries in their intimacy both physically and somehow emotionally, aroused the possessive side of Eddie Brock over Izzy.

The closing time,

The unspoken feelings,

The secrecy of their relationship,

The lies...

She pulled away slightly, her hands pressing against his chest gently, slowly gasping for air. "Jacket off, big guy.” she murmured, sliding her hands in between his jacket and shirt, tugging it down.

They loved exploring various positions now that they're doing it unprotected, though nothing beats the classic. They are gazing in each other's eyes, her knees spread out and bent, and her hands gripping on his arms. Eddie on top of her, thrusting his cock slowly, gently, repeatedly, in and out of her. His left hand gripping on her hips to keep her in place, while his right elbow kept him propped up as his face dipped into hers capturing her lips once again for a deep kiss. It feels so good, making her moan against his lips.

"Shhh, baby... they're gonna hear us." he mumured and nibbled on her lower lip before moving to neck, sucking and kissing her skin, all while continuing his pace. His hands holding her hips glided the curves of her body up to her chest, kneading it gently, while his mouth sucked on the other one.

He often swung by her parent's mansion earlier these days, right before her mom serves dinner, so he could spend more time with Izzy. Sex was usually reserved towards the end of his stay, when her parents have retreated to their bed room since her dad was a deep sleeper. They could make all sorts of noises they would want.

However, that night, sex came first.

Izzy arched her back when her stomach coiled, she huffed letting him know she was about to cum, and not to stop. His head nodded, tugging her nipples in between his teeth as he responded. Eddie was taking it slow, yet deliberate in hitting her spot again and again until her juices gushed warmly around his cock. She came and he was close.

He steadied himself, brushing her hair away from her face, the other hand secured her jaw, making her look at him. He made her cry out his name discreetly, bending her leg up to her stomach, plunging in her deeper. She pouted, lips red and her dark eyes looking up to him. She was fucked up, satiated, still receiving him, and moaning his name quietly. Slowly, she felt her stomach get filled with Eddie's hot seed, jolting at every whirl he made. Not a single drop wasted, he thrusted his cum inside her, grumbling "Take it all in, baby. It's all yours."

Izzy nodded absentmindedly, her eyes half-lidded as she sank into her pillows. Her limbs draped over the bed like she was holding on for dear life. Her lower abdoment was warm, filled to the touch, god it felt so good. The shot was worth it, they did not have to worry about anything, except the fact that they're only falling deeper into this pit they keep digging themselves. Eddie loved filling her up, giving him the perception that she was his, and his alone. He smiled, pulling out slowly. She looked so endearing in his eyes as he leaned down to press a kiss to her temple.

"Good girl."

And as he pulled back, he couldn’t help but feel that even in her spent state, Isobel Knight, in his arms, looked vulnerable yet radiant in his eyes. The woman he can't seem to let go.

Second Degree Burn

Five months out from the wedding, Eddie found himself falling deeper with the woman he couldn’t let go of. Every time he sat beside Anne, he’d nod and murmur agreements at the wedding preparations.

Anne saw it, too.

The way he seemed more distracted these days, coming home later than usual, brushing off her questions with vague mentions of “work stuff". The future Mrs. Anne Weying-Brock was starting to realize how distant her fiance has been lately, and the "bond" she wanted to establish with Izzy a few days ago got her wondering.

So, she did what any fiancé in her position might: she reached out to Izzy.

If Anne was being honest, meeting her was daunting. She was not that comfortable talking to Izzy without Eddie around. However, she was desperate for clarity. She wanted to understand her fiance, reach out to him in the same effortless manner his best friend did. She was not even sure that Izzy would show up in the said café but she did arrive, twenty minutes late. She slid into the seat across Anne, skipping the pleasantries and conversation appetizers. Izzy knew she would not have called her if this was not about Eddie.

“I don’t know what I’ve done wrong,” she admitted, the words barely above a whisper. “Eddie’s been pulling away, and I can feel it—even when he’s right there beside me.” She paused, her throat tightening, but forced herself to keep speaking. “I try to plan things, make it easier for him, take the stress off his shoulders... but it’s like the more I try, the farther away he gets.”

Izzy didn’t respond immediately, shifting slightly in her chair. It was uncomfortable to hear, but she was all ears. Her eyes are fixed on the blonde woman pouring her heart out.

Just when she thought it couldn't get any more uncomfortable...

“It’s hard to say this, but... we haven’t been..." Anne started, yet stopped for a second, clearly hesistating before she continued, "..intimate lately. Not for weeks. And I don’t know why. I don’t know what I’ve done to make him pull away like this.”

Fuck.

She did not want to hear that. Izzy had assumed naively, that perhaps Eddie’s relationship with Anne remained intact in 'certain' ways, even despite their affair. It dawned on her. He has been more consistent with her, making time to see her inside or outside the mansion, frequent calls and messages to check up on her, then their sex—the raw and unapologetic sex.

It was her doing.

Anne’s voice broke slightly as she continued, her composure slipping. “I love him—I love him so much. And I know he loves me, but I can’t shake the feeling that there’s a part of him I’ll never reach. Like there’s this invisible wall between us, and no matter what I do, I can’t tear it down.”

Izzy’s gaze flicked to Anne’s trembling hands, her stomach twisting in a way she hadn’t expected. She wanted to look away, to detach herself from the rawness of Anne’s words, but something about the vulnerability in front of her that held her trapped in the moment.

Is this it? Is this finally it?

“And I don’t know how to fix it,” Anne said, her voice cracking as tears pooled at the edges. “I’m supposed to be the person who knows him best but it seems like I don't. Not the way you did at the mall.”

Izzy froze at the mention, her chest filled with guilt as it clawed its way into her throat. She did not mean to make her feel that way. She had only wanted to care for Eddie, to be there for him in the only way she knew how. She never realized that those small, intimate moments could haunt her like this and now, hearing Anne reference it so earnestly, Izzy couldn’t help but feel the sharp sting of her own actions. She thought, this was only the tip of the fucking iceberg she and Eddie created. She can't imagine how Anne would even look at her if she knew the depth of their relationship.

It was a scalding pain. Her conscience was a boiling hot water pouring in her skin.

Anne wasn’t accusing her, wasn’t even looking for blame. She was opening her heart, searching for help, clinging to the hope that Izzy might hold the answer to better understand Eddie. And in that hope, Izzy felt an unbearable guilt, the kind that comes from knowing she's part of the wall Anne was desperately trying to tear down.

She IS the wall.

“Please,” she whispered, her voice breaking. Anne met Izzy’s gaze then, her cheeks tear-streaked. “Help me, Izzy. You know Eddie better than anyone, and I can’t do this on my own. I don’t want to lose him.”

She felt a huge lump on her throat, listening to Anne's plead as she nodded slowly, struggling to maintain her calm facade. She had never felt like the villain before, but as Anne looked at her with such raw trust, she couldn’t help but feel the weight of her guilt settle deeper. “O-okay,” she murmured quietly, her tone softer than Anne had ever heard it.

“I will help.”

And in that moment, Izzy realized she wasn’t just helping Anne reconnect with Eddie, she was desperately trying to atone for the fire she’d helped create.

But this conversation was not the most excrutiating part of it all...

It was when she realized that the Third Degree Burn was ending it all at once. Facing Eddie, knowing she had to let him go and burning through all the layers of their relationship, for the sake of his engagement. For the sake of the woman he loved.

She called him later that night at the Bay area, a quiet spot where no one would hear what they were about to say.

Izzy rehearsed this conversation on her head over and over again. She thought about the right words to say, how she would open this topic up, and how she's going to hold herself in the process. What she did not realize how painful it could be until Eddie appeared in front of her.

That devilishly handsome crooked smile of his that always made her heart pound is now making it ache...

“Hey, baby,” he called out, a lopsided grin spreading across his face. “So, you’ve summoned me out here at this hour—what’s next? You plotting to start some scandalous sand sex? Because I’m all in, but let’s just say ‘Brock caught in bay-side mischief’ isn’t the headline I’m dying to see tomorrow.”

The corners of his eyes crinkled with mischief as his voice took on that teasing tone she knew too well. He reached out to tuck a stray strand of hair behind her ear, his hands naturally grabbing her waist. But Izzy didn’t laugh. She didn’t have a witty retort or roll her eyes like she usually might. Instead, she flinched that was enough for Eddie to stop as his grin faded.

“What’s wrong?” he asked.

She took a shaky breath, her expression blank, her gaze distant as she finally spoke the words she’d dreaded saying aloud. She can't look at him without breaking.

“Anne spoke to me earlier...” her words came out sounding detached, as if she had to remove all feeling from them just to get them out even though it felt like her feelings are burning through her chest.

She had to do this, even if it left her in ashes.

"We are live in 3, 2, 1!"

In front of the camera, what everyone sees is the Eddie Brock who is the charming fiancé, the fearless journalist, or the guy who always seems to have it all together. He is all smiles for the camera and for the people who recognize him walking down the streets of San Francisco.

What they do not know is he is internally screaming inside.

Four months before the wedding. A month after he and Izzy last talked and saw each other. He was restless. Eddie sat at his desk, fingers hovering over the keyboard, yet his thoughts were miles away from the article he was supposed to write. The cursor blinked mockingly at him, like a reminder of all the deadlines he was missing, all the expectations he was failing to meet. After some time of inactivity, unable to type at least a word, the picture of him and Anne as his screensaver popped up, his laptop in idle. He let out a frustrated growl, running a hand through his disheveled hair before slamming his laptop shut.

He tried to act all fine around her, giving the fiancé she once had, but it was the small things that caught her attention. Eddie buried himself in work even at home, never taking his eyes off his laptop, though he never seems to accomplish his deadlines on time.

When it came to the wedding preparations, he was a yes-man, well, more like a nod man. He was not at all enthusiastic about it. It became Anne's wedding rather than theirs. When she asked for Izzy's help with Eddie, he did become more present. He was at home early; he was able to attend all the necessary appointments they had, and most importantly, sex was back on the table. However, the man she loved was on autopilot. He was navigating life with her; their love boat was sailing, but Eddie, himself, was not there.

His heart was not there, it was with Izzy, and she was more absent in his life than she ever was before, even though he knew she was just one car drive or bike ride away.

His newfound best friend was an unexpected one: a bottle of whiskey and drinking it over the kitchen counter.

It wasn’t his style—he wasn’t the type to drown his sorrows in alcohol—that tonight, it felt like the only option. He drank on several occasions, mostly for the happy ones like boys' night out or when Izzy forced him to finish a bottle of beer during their movie nights. He did not like drinking during his down mood since it reminded him so much of his father, though it seems like as the days go by, the more he understands the numbing effects it has for the emotional fucking boulder he's been carrying inside.

"Eddie?" Anne called.

"Yeah?" He answered flatly.

He did not even spare a glance and it prompted her to step closer, her eyes searching his face for any sign of the man she used to know.

“Are you okay? This is the third night you've been drinking. Is there something wrong?”

Hell yeah something's wrong. Everything. He thought.

Instead, let out a humorless chuckle, shaking his head as he downed the rest of his drink. “Just tired,” he muttered, the lie rolling off his tongue with practiced ease.

“Eddie, I—” she began, but he cut her off.

“Look, Anne,” he hissed. “Can we not fucking do this right now? I don't want to talk!”

She flinched, biting her lip as she nodded, retreating from the room. Eddie closed his eyes, the guilt washing over him in waves. He didn’t want to hurt her. He didn’t want to push her away. But every time he tried to stay present, to focus on her, all he could think about was Izzy. He took out his phone, typing another message to send her, knowing like the ones he had sent days before would end up ignored like this one as well.

Then he heard a sobbing noise coming from their bedroom...

Eddie sighed heavily, closing his eyes as the guilt crashed over him in waves. He hadn’t meant to hurt her and for a moment, he stared at the empty glass in his hand. He knew his emotions got the best of him again, and how is he going to explain his unreasonable outburst tonight? Setting the glass down, he followed her into the bedroom, as he saw Anne was sitting on the edge of the bed, wiping away her tears. He stood in front of her, his hand brushing lightly against her cheek as he tilted her face up to meet his gaze. Eddie leaned in, his lips pressing against hers in a kiss that was more apologetic than affectionate.

He was trying to convince himself as much as her that he wanted this and Anne she leaned into it, her hands reaching up to rest lightly on his arms. As if suddenly, everything between them was okay and he was still hers. Her fingers were slowly undoing his buttons, Eddie mentally sighed in defeat knowing where this would lead.

That night, all he could ever think about was Izzy. He had sex with his fiancé as passionate as apologies can be that night with his eyes closed. He had sunk to a new low, using the woman who loved him to chase the ghost of the one he couldn’t have. But he can't bring himself to do so without it. His best friend's pomegranate-tasting lips, the way her body moved in perfect rhythm with his, the way she moaned his name—he longed for all of it. Afterwards, as Anne lay beside him, the bliss came crashing down on him once again.

Anne is the woman he was going to marry. The woman he'll spend the rest of his life with. But there's this constant uneasy feeling whenever he touches her, it feels like he was cheating on Izzy instead.

Eddie stared at the ceiling, lost in his own thoughts once again. The last words Izzy spoke to him that night before she left replayed on his mind.

"Don’t come to the mansion, Eddie. I know you’ll try, and my parents won’t turn you away since they love you like their own. But I will. If I see you near that house, I swear to God, I’ll leave San Francisco again just to get away from you.”

Izzy had begged him, in her own way, to let her go. To stop clinging to what they had shared and to stop chasing a future that could never be theirs. But Eddie couldn’t. He loved her in a way that so consuming that left him hollow when she wasn’t there. And yet, he had chosen stability over chaos, predictability over passion—a choice he regretted more deeply with every passing day.

Since then, Eddie had been trying to reach her in every way he could—calls, texts, messages that varied from heartfelt to angry to pleading. But Izzy had gone silent, leaving him drowning in their goodbye.

Somewhere on the other side of San Francisco, Izzy was staring at the package that arrived a week ago. She did not want to open it since she already knew what it was. It was the dress and heels she bought using Eddie's credit card when they were still lovey dovey. It was a bittersweet reminder of the man, she was working so hard to avoid. She was not planning on going out that night yet she threw on the dres, wore the heels, and took a good look on the mirror inside her walk in closet. It looks so stunning. She imagined wearing this out with him, and felt a sting of pain in her chest again.

"Who says I can't wear this at home, huh?" she muttered to herself.

Izzy retreated back to her bed, still wearing the two grand worth of dress and heels, opened another tub of this artisanal popcorn her dad bought for her, and flipped through the TV for another all nighter of reality shows. She thought that at least the drama showing in her screen was paid for. The drama in her personal life was not.

"I'd like to get paid for being that dramatic." she grumbled, nose flaring, and popped another fistful of popcorn inside her mouth.

That was Izzy on a tamed night.

She carried her own burdens. Letting him go had been the hardest thing she had ever done, and yet she had done it, knowing it was the only way to save her bestfriend's engagement.

There were times she'd come home late and drunk from a party, wobbling her way up to her room. One time, her dad woke up cocking a gun at her when she accidentally broke a vase by stumbling upon it, thinking there was an intruder inside their house at 3AM. Turns out, it was their daughter who they barely recognized because of the smudged make up and messy hair. It got them worried. Usually, Eddie would bring her home in one piece, saving them both the head ache of dealing with their havoc of a daughter.

But what got them more concerned was when Izzy wouldn't come out of her room, obviously hurting. Her mom would wonder why it was almost past lunch time and she still has not come out of her room yet, seeing her deep asleep in her bed when she took a peak. Tubs of unfinished popcorn on the floor, crumpled can of sodas, and a salt covered blanket. All they can do was wait for her to open up.

That night. Bay Area.

She felt the numbness in her face creeping in as her jaw stayed tightly clenched. Izzy stood barely rigid, her fingers trembling despite her best efforts to steady them, her lips quivering with each confession.

She recounted everything. The conversation with Anne at the café—the guilt that had been breathing down her neck ever since, and the pain of realizing the role she had fully played in Anne’s heartbreak. The guilt she carried wasn’t just for Anne; it was for herself. For the ways she willingly stayed in Eddie’s life for so long and for the moments she knew she could have stepped aside but didn’t. She had taken something that wasn’t hers.

Her hands balled into fists, fighting the tremor that threatened to undo her entirely. Anne didn’t deserve the heartache she’d been dealt and Izzy knew that no words or apologies could make it better being the catalyst for it alll. When her words finally stopped, her gaze flicked towards Eddie, who was looking at her with an evident heart break and desperation. He knew where this was going and what has going through her mind, slowly nodding in defeat. His hand raked through his hair, leaving it tousled and even more disheveled as the wind blew through it, his gaze drawn toward the rippling water.

“Izzy, don’t do this,” he said, his voice low, almost pleading. “Whatever it is that we have, it’s not... it’s not just sex. You’re my best friend. You’re the only one who really gets me.”

“And that’s the problem, Eddie!” she burst out. “I shouldn’t be the one who gets you. She should. She’s supposed to be your fiancé, not me. This—” she gestured between them, her hands trembling—“this has to stop.”

She hated the heartbreak engraved into his features and the way she was standing here tearing his world apart even as her own crumbled beneath her. But she couldn’t stop knowing it was the right thing to do.

Izzy held her ground but Eddie knew her well enough to recognize the bravado she wore like an armor, but he also knew the trembling in her hands. And even from the pain of receiving her words, he couldn’t stop himself from stepping closer.

“You think ripping us apart fixes anything? None of us come out of this okay, Izzy. You don’t get to decide what’s best for everyone just because you feel guilty.”

“Don’t you dare,” she whispered sharply. “Don’t you fucking dare say like guilt is all I feel. You think this is easy for me? Standing here, telling you it’s over, while everything in me is screaming to just... keep going?!”

Eddie froze. He knew it. Deep inside her, beyond her words, he knew Izzy did not want to end things between them.

“Why can’t you just let it be what it is?” he pleaded.

“Because what it is,” her voice trembling, “is already hurting her, Eddie. She doesn’t even got a clue how bad this shit is. Do you know what she said to me today? Huh? She said she loves you so much she doesn’t know how to reach you anymore. She’s begging me to help her understand you, Eddie, while I—” Her breath hitched as she broke off, shaking her head. “While I’m the bitch causing it.”

He dragged a hand through his hair, letting out a frustrated groan. “You think she gets me like you do? You think she’s the one who keeps me together when everything’s falling apart? No, Izzy. It’s you. You’re the one I call. You’re the one who keeps me breathing when I can’t deal with the rest of it. It’s always been you.”

It was the gut wrenching fact that it was Izzy trying to save his relationship with Anne from falling apart that made her stomach churn. And as much as he wanted to fight, as much as he wanted to hold onto her, he knew she wasn’t wrong.

But that didn’t mean he could let her go. Not without a fight. Not without trying to make her see how much she mattered.

And somehow, Izzy knew how much Eddie clung to her, but she also knew the reality of their situation. They had to stop somewhere at sometime.

“It shouldn’t be me, Eddie. It should never have been me. She’s the one who signed up to love you. She’s the one planning a future with you.”

"You don’t get to say that, Izzy. You don’t get to decide that whatever this is doesn’t matter.”

“What I know is that it can’t go on anymore!” she snapped, tears pricking at her eyes. “Not when it’s built on lies and cheating. Damn it, Brock, don’t you see what we’ve done?”

His chest sighed as he stepped closer. “I see that I want you, Izzy. You have no idea how long I've waited. I wanted you since that night you kissed me for nothing."

Her breath hitched, the raw honesty in his words was breaking her stand but she couldn’t afford to soften up to him again. She was determined to make things right.

“You can’t just throw that in my face. You’ve already chosen her.”

“I didn’t choose her!” he growled, his hands flailing in the air like a frustrated lunatic. “I fucking settled, Izzy. All I ever wanted was you but you were never here.”

A scoff escaped her lips as she wiped her eyes using the back of her hands while shaking her head. It was painful to hear those words. Why now? Why not before when it was just the two of them?

“Eddie, you proposed to her. You promised her forever. And now you’re standing here, begging me to let you keep both of us like that’s something sustainable.”

“I’m not trying to keep both of you,” he muttered. “I’m trying to keep you."

Izzy tried so hard to keep herself to stand tall, her hands balled tightly at her sides, taking a deep breath, she said. “It's not me you should keep, Eddie.”

His voice dropped to a quiet broken whisper. “And what am I supposed to do?” he asked. “Just... let you go?”

Her eyes glinted for the briefest moment, forcing herself to smile and nod slowly in confirmation.

There was a moment of silence that filled the space between them. Eddie’s chest rose and fell with deep breaths as he stared at her. He looked heart broken, hurt, and somehow in frustrated.

“You’re bailing out on me again,” he muttered. “You always do this, Izzy. Whenever things start to feel right, you find a way to blow it up.”

She narrowed her eyes at him with her arms crossing defensively over her chest as she stepped closer. “Excuse me?” she shot back. “Are you seriously accusing me of bailing? Of all people?”

Eddie stepped even closer. “Yeah, I am. You did it before when you told me to find someone else who could give me the stability you didn’t think you could. And now, you’re doing it again.”

Izzy let out a harsh laugh, her head shaking as she jabbed a finger into his chest, her voice trembling with anger. “Fuck you, Brock.” she spat. “Let’s get one thing straight—I didn’t bail. I told you to find someone who deserved you because I wasn’t about to play house with you.”

“And there it is... You keep throwing me fucking scraps—just enough to keep me close—and then you yank it all away when it gets too fucking real for you.”

Her hands dropping to her sides as she took a deep breath to calm herself. “You want to know why I’m doing this, Eddie? Because Anne asked for my help. Because you couldn't hold it together!"

“Izzy,” he said, his voice low, almost pleading. “Don’t—”

“No,” she cut him off. “You don’t get to tell me not to do this. She loves you, Eddie. She’s trying so so so hard to hold on to you, and you’re not giving her anything to hold on to. And I can’t—I won’t—be the reason she loses you.”

In that moment, as much as he wanted to fight back, to make her see that she was wrong, deep down, he knew she wasn’t. Izzy had chosen for him since she knew his answer.

A week later, the wedding preparations were in full swing since the date was closing in. Over the chinese take out containers, Anne handed Eddie this huge wedding binder she carefully crafted from her childhood imaginations to Pinterest wedding ideas. He was skimming through the book when Anne asked something that struck a nerve.

“I know you’ve already asked Izzy’s parents to stand in,” she began, his hands stilling as he registered the direction this was heading. “But... wouldn’t it be better if your dad came instead?”

Eddie hesitated, his grip tightening on the edge of the binder as he met her gaze. She didn’t know the full story—the depth of the rift between him and Carl, the years of anger and silence that he endured.

“The Knights have always been there for me. They treated me like their own when I didn’t have anyone else. It's only right to include them.”

“I understand that,” she said gently. “And I’m not saying they don’t mean a lot to you. I just wonder if... I don’t know, if tying them so closely to this part of your life could be complicated.”

Eddie ran a hand through his hair, exhaling slowly as he leaned back in his chair. “Complicated how?” he asked.

“It’s just... they’re Izzy’s parents,” she said finally. “And I know you’ve been close to her for as long as I’ve known you, but... doesn’t it feel a little... off?”

“They’re more than just her parents to me,” he said finally, his voice low but firm. “They were my family when my own father wasn’t there. That man can't even drag himself to my own graduation.”

The heavy emotions were starting to take over him again as he forced himself to take a deep breath before he continued. “It’s not something I need to reconsider,” he said, his voice softer now. “The Knights are my family. And that’s final.”

Anne nodded slowly, her gaze softening as she took in the tension etched into his features. “Okay,” she said quietly. “I understand..”

An awful amount of awkward silence filled their apartment and Eddie did not care. Carl Brock was a sensitive topic to him. He had to learn how to live without a loving parent because of that man, and he refuses to bring him in his wedding.

The next day, after a long day of work, Eddie was driving back to their apartment. The conversation he had with Anne regarding his father kept replaying on his mind, and he remembered that specific memory during their High School graduation.

He was standing alone in the auditorium, clutching his cap nervously, waiting for his name to be called. It was their high school graduation. His eyes scanned across the venue, each student had their own parents and guardians to come up with them on stage, yet his own father was nowhere to be found. He was still holding unto the tiny bit of hope that Carl would somehow show up there and be with him.

Izzy knew his father did not show up again. She’d been furious—not just at Carl’s absence, but at the fact that he hadn’t even bothered to make an excuse. He hadn’t called, hadn’t sent a message, hadn’t done anything to acknowledge his son’s achievement. Her eyes constantly peaked to her best friend's seat, seeing how he was still hoping that his father would miraculously swoop in.

"Edward Charles Allan Brock." his name was called up stage.

He closed his eyes briefly, taking deep breath to brace himself from the humiliation of having to receive his medals and diploma alone. No one there to accompany him, no one to share his achievement with. He moved forward, each step feeling heavier than the last. While walking slowly up the stage, he felt an arm loop around his, his eyes immediately flicked to see who was it.

It was Izzy's mom.

"I hope you don't mind, sweetheart." she said, giving him a soft smile similar to Izzy's.

He felt a heavy yet warm tap on his back and saw Izzy's father standing on his other side. "We're proud of you, son."

Eddie felt like his heart was going to burst. He did not expect Izzy's parents to step in as his. He hadn’t realized how much he needed this—not just the presence of someone, but them. Izzy's parents. The two people who had always been there for him, treating him like he was one of their own, even when his own father couldn’t be bothered.

When they walked him across that stage, for the first time, Eddie didn’t feel alone. He didn’t feel like the kid abandoned by his dad. He felt loved, supported—like he mattered. From her seat, Izzy was a force of nature. Holding the camcorder with shaky, excited hands, she cheered so loudly it echoed across the auditorium.

“That’s my best friend! Go get it, Brock!” she yelled, her voice full of pride, her energy infectious.

Eddie couldn’t help but chuckle softly, a small smile tugging at his lips despite the lump in his throat. Typical Izzy—always there to lift him up, even when he didn’t ask for it.

As the ceremony ended and the three of them walked off stage, Eddie found himself glancing back at Izzy’s parents. He didn’t have the words to thank them—not properly, anyway. All he could do was nod, swallowing the emotions threatening to spill over. But they didn’t need words. The way Mrs. Knight squeezed his arm and the proud gleam in Mr. Knight’s eyes said everything. They celebrated with him afterwards, even got him a graduation gift as well.

When the Knights dropped Eddie off at Carl’s house later that evening, Izzy’s anger boiled over. She didn’t wait for Eddie to say goodbye or for her parents to drive away. She stormed out of the car, her heels clicking sharply against the pavement as she marched toward the front door.

“Izzy, wait—” Eddie called after her, but she didn’t stop. Her dad started to follow, his protective instincts kicking in, but her mom grabbed his arm, shaking her head. “Let her handle it,” she said softly.

Inside, Izzy didn’t waste a second. She found Carl lounging on the couch, a beer in hand, the TV blaring some sports game. He barely glanced up when she entered.

“Are you kidding me?” she snapped. “You didn’t even show up. Eddie was waiting for you. Do you even care about your son?”

“Who the hell are you to barge in here and talk to me like that? Is he just following you around like a dog now? Who do you think you are, coming in here and running your mouth?” Carl hissed, face darkened, his grip tightening on the beer bottle.

For a young woman, freshly graduated from high school, Izzy’s fury ignited like a match. She was not taking this sitting down. Not with Eddie who deserved so much more than this. Her heart was broken just by seeing his face earlier.

“Dog? You call your own son a dog?" she scoffed. “Then you are a pile of dog shit, Carl. You don’t deserve to call yourself his father.” she spat, her voice trembling with rage.

There was not any ounce of respect left with her words. Carl then stood, towering over her, Eddie burst through the door, his heart pounding. “Dad, stop—” he started, but his father's hand was already raised, his anger boiling over.

The slap came fast, but Eddie moved faster. He stepped in front of Izzy, taking the blow himself. Izzy's eyes widened at the scene. The sting burned across his cheek, but he didn’t flinch. He stood his ground, his eyes locked on his father’s.

“Don’t you ever touch her,” Eddie said, his chest heaving. “You want to hit someone? Hit me. But don’t you dare lay a hand on her.”

Carl stared at him for a moment before scoffing and turning away. “Get the hell out of my house,” he muttered, collapsing back onto the couch.

But Izzy wasn’t done. She grabbed Eddie’s arm, pulling him toward the door. As they reached the doorway, she paused, her grip on Eddie’s arm tightening. She turned back to Carl, her gaze sharp, and without a word, she reached for a vase sitting on a nearby table—a harmless, decorative piece—and hurled it to the ground. The shattering sound caused a raucous as her final act of defiance that left Carl staring at her in stunned silence.

She didn’t say anything else. The look she gave Carl said it all: You’re a worthless piece of shit.

Outside, half way in the front lawn, Izzy spun around to face Eddie. Her hands reached for his face, her fingers brushing gently over the red mark blooming on his cheek. Her eyes glistened with unshed tears, her lips trembling as she pouted. “You didn’t have to do that,” she said, her voice cracking. “It was meant for me. I could’ve taken it.”

He chuckled softly despite the sting on his face. “I’m the one who got slapped, and you’re the one crying?” he teased.

Izzy’s lip quivered as more tears spilled over, and she pouted like a stubborn child. “Your dad is a horrible man,” she said, her voice breaking as she tried to hold herself together. But she couldn’t, especially when it came to Eddie.

Eddie’s heart ached at the sight of her like this. Izzy was the strongest person he knew, someone who rarely cried, who took on the world as lightly as she can, laughing her way out of the most ridiculous situations. But here she was, her tears falling freely—not for herself, but for him. And that, more than anything else, was what broke him.

Her parents stepped out of their car, the urgency in their steps shifting to alarm the moment they saw Eddie’s face. Her mom gasped, her hands flying to her mouth as she took in the sharp red mark on his cheek. Her dad’s expression hardened, restraining his anger as he approached them. Their questions poured as Izzy answered through stifled sniffles. It was a no-brainer for them—they couldn’t let Eddie go back to a house like that. Without hesitation, they told him they would cover his dorm expenses and any other needs he’d have in college, just to ensure he wouldn’t have to endure his father’s cruelty again.

Eddie froze, caught completely off guard by their offer. It was too much, too kind—something he didn’t think he could possibly accept. Shaking his head, he started to protest. But before he could get much further, Izzy broke down. She yelled at him.

“Just take it!” she yelled. “Don't be a dumbass and choose yourself for once!”

Eddie looked at her, really looked at her—at the way her face was streaked with tears, her lip trembling as she pleaded with him. She wasn’t just crying for him; she was crying because of him, because she couldn’t stand to see him hurt anymore. No one advocated for Eddie the way Izzy did at that moment.

“Alright. Stop crying.” he said quietly. “I’ll take it.”

As he pulled up to the apartment, Eddie shook his head, exhaling deeply with a faint smile tugging at his lips. No matter how much time passed, he could never think of that day without feeling indebt to Izzy’s parents since they had been more than just stand-ins—they’d become his own family in ways Carl never could. And Izzy, as stubborn as she is, had always been his number one. His chest ached, considering how distant they both are now.

Sliding the key into the lock, Eddie stepped inside the apartment, tossing his keys onto the counter, and running a hand through his hair as he closed the door behind him. The place smelled faintly of takeout, and he braced himself for another round of wedding discussions with Anne, his mind already beginning to shut down from the exhaustion of the day.

But then he saw him.

Sitting on the couch, legs casually spread and an empty beer bottle balanced on one knee, was Carl Brock.

Eddie suddenly can't move his legs.

His father looked older now but he was still carrying the condescending smirk he hated. For a moment, Eddie thought he was hallucinating, the ghost of his childhood trauma sitting in his living room, but then their eyes met.

“Well, if it isn’t the golden boy,” Carl drawled, gesturing lazily with his bottle. “Nice place you’ve got here.”

Literally, he was too stunned to speak.

But before he could say anything, Anne appeared in the doorway, smiling brightly. “Honey,” she started, “I invited your dad.”

Eddie’s jaw clenched, his chest tightened as emotions he’d tried so hard to bury began clawing their way to the surface. The apartment suddenly felt smaller around him as he stared at Carl, the man who had caused him so much pain, sitting smugly in the middle of his couch, drinking his beer as if nothing ever wrong happened between them.

He couldn’t decide which hurt more—the past he couldn’t escape, or the betrayal of the person who had brought it into his home.

“You’re looking good, kid. Thought it was about time we had a little chat.”

As if his father's words were an unpleasant smoke breezing through his ears, Eddie didn’t respond. He didn’t even look at him. His eyes immediately sought Anne, standing in the corner of the room.

“What is that doing here?” he asked coldly.

Anne flinched slightly at his tone but stood her ground. “I invited him,” she said, trying to meet Eddie’s gaze but failing. “I thought it was about time the two of you talked. He’s staying for a few days so you can... fix things.”

He didn’t look at him. His eyes were focused on Anne as she explained her decision, but Eddie could not hear her words. All he could hear was the loud thump of his heart from the anger bubbling up from a place so deep he almost didn’t recognize it. She brought him here. How ironic considering he was supposed to spend the rest of his life with the woman who was reviving his deep seated trauma. He let out a bitter laugh, shaking his head as he finally looked at Carl.

Fucking ridiculous.

“Fix things? Really?” he said with disdain as he turned back to Anne. “He’s not welcome here. You should’ve talked to me before doing this.”

“Eddie, he’s your father. I just wanted to give you both a chance to—” she pleaded.

“To what? You don't get to make that call, Annie.” Eddie snapped, cutting her off. “He doesn’t care about fixing anything. He never has.”

The years of buried resentment, the disappointment, the anger—it was all in the surface now, demanding to be acknowledged. His father’s presence felt suffocating, and Anne’s attempt to reason with him only made it worse.

Carl chuckled then, leaning forward slightly, resting his elbows on his knees. “That’s no way to talk about your old man,” he said, shaking his head mockingly. “Especially when your dear fiancé went out of her way to include me in your life. Funny though—you didn’t even tell me about your wedding plans. Imagine my surprise when I hear you’ve got that girl’s parents standing in for me.”

“You don’t get to talk about them,” Eddie hissed, trying to keep his composure. “They’re more of a family to me than you’ll ever be.”

Anne stepped forward, trying to talk some sense into her fiancée. “Eddie, please. He’s your father. At least try to show him some respect.”

Carl’s smirk widened at her words. He leaned back, crossing his arms as if enjoying the show. “I see your ‘friend’ has been rubbing off on you,” he said, his gaze fixed on Eddie. “How is she, by the way? Izzy?”

Eddie’s fists clenched at his sides, his entire body coiled with tension. The mere mention of her name coming from Carl’s mouth felt like someone had dumped gasoline onto the fire already burning inside Eddie. He was already sensitive just thinking about her, now he has to hear her name coming of out his father's mouth. He has been struggling to keep himself together without Izzy for more than a month now, and somehow, the universe found another way to fuck him over.

He was shaking in anger.

"Keep her name off your fucking mouth." Eddie growled.

As if Carl expected this reaction from his son, he leaned back with his legs spread, the beer bottle still dangling lazily from his hand, his smile widening.

“See, Annie?” Carl said, dragging Anne into his game without hesitation. “This boy’s been wrapped around his best friend’s finger since they were kids. Following her around, doing whatever she wanted him to do. I said this before but, it's pathetic, really.”

Eddie clenched his fists so tightly that his nails bit into his palms, his lips pressed into a hard line, and when he spoke again, his voice trembled with the effort it took to keep himself calm. “Get out."

But Carl wasn’t finished. Of course he wasn’t. “You’d be surprised, Annie,” Carl continued, his eyes locked on Eddie. “The things my boy will do for that girl. It’s almost funny.”

It wasn’t funny. It was cruel. Eddie felt the words hitting him like punches, each one targeting the weakest, most vulnerable parts of him. The room blurred slightly as his emotions took over him. He couldn’t stay—not with Carl’s presence polluting the air, not with Anne standing by him like he deserved to be there.

I can’t be here. I can’t breathe. Finally, Eddie snapped.

His voice rose, unrestrained and raw, as he turned to Anne, the betrayal still stinging like salt in an open wound. “Annie!” he shouted. “If that man is not going, I will.”

Carl chuckled softly that wasn’t just mocking—it was dismissive, like Eddie’s anger was beneath him and it didn’t matter. Anne’s hesitation only made things worse. She looked at Eddie, her gaze pleading, but her words felt like the final nail in the coffin. “It’s late,” she said gently. “I promised Carl he could stay. It’s for your own good—a path to healing.”

Healing.

The word twisted in Eddie’s mind. There was no healing here—not with Carl, not with the man who had torn him down at every opportunity. Without another word, he turned sharply, grabbing his leather jacket, his helmet, and his keys. The door slammed behind him. He was done. He stormed down the stairs to his bike, his heart pounding, his mind racing. He couldn’t stay. He couldn’t breathe. He was trembling but pushes to hold himself together.

Back in the apartment, Anne froze. She glanced at Carl, unsure of what to say or do. But the old man shrugged and said, “Let him be,” lounging back on the couch like he had every right to be there. “He’ll come home. He always does.”

His bike roared down the empty streets of San Francisco over the speed limit. He screamed his anguish into the void along the howl of the engine. He was angry. At Carl, for tearing open old wounds. At Anne, for betraying him in ways she couldn’t even understand. At the world, which can't seem to give him a break. His life should’ve been going well. He had a career, a home, a fiancé, a wedding on the horizon, and a best friend. Yet, piece by piece, it felt like it was all crumbling around him. The streets blurred past him, and he didn’t care where he was going. He just wants to be away from his father as far as possible.

That same night, Izzy was preparing herself to go to bed, tying her hair into a loose knot as she got ready for sleep. Her phone buzzed on the nightstand, and she reached for it lazily, not expecting much at this hour. But when she saw Eddie’s name on the screen, she immediately straightened.

My father’s back.

That’s all it said.

"Fuck." she muttered. She didn’t need more details to understand the gravity of the message. She wasn't speaking to him for more than a month now but this time, without hesitation, she typed back:

Send me your location.

Her cab halted at the same place they last saw each other: at the bay area. She quickly crumpled a bill on the driver's hand as the bolted out of the vehicle. His motorbike was parked there. She walked around the damp sand, while the cold night wind blew through her dark locks. Good thing she was already wearing her oversized hoodie and sweat pants to fight the cold.

There he was. Eddie.

He was sitting there alone in the sand, curled into himself. The sound of the waves crashing against the shore was loud but she can hear the uneven sound of his crying. Her best friend was a proud, solid bull yet there he was, crying alone in the middle of the night, where no one could see him or hear how broken he felt. He hadn’t wanted anyone to see how far he’d fallen.

Izzy ran towards him without hesitation as she dropped to her knees beside him, the cold sand biting through the fabric of her sweatpants, but she didn’t care. Wrapping her arms around his shaking frame, she pulled him close, burying her head against his shoulder. The faint, familiar scent of wild honeysuckle perfume enveloped them. He didn’t need to look up to confirm it was her. The moment he felt her embrace, he broke even further, his sobs coming harder, heavier. She tightened her grip, her lips pressing against the top of his head in a soothing kiss.

“Let it out,” she whispered. “You’ve been strong for too long, Brock. It’s okay to cry. Just let it out.”

Eddie clung to her, his muffled voice shaking as he finally spoke. “Anne... invited him,” he choked out, his head still buried against her shoulder. “She invited him to the apartment.”

Her heart was breaking for him again, but she didn’t ask for more. She didn’t need the details. Whatever had happened, whatever had pushed him to this point, she knew it wasn’t something he could face right now. She took a deep breath to compose herself.

“You don’t have to tell me,” she murmured, her hand running gently along his back. “There’s no way I’m letting you go back there. You’re coming home with me to the mansion."

His arms tightened around her waist, pulling her closer as if she were the only thing keeping him together. His fingers clutched at the fabric of her hoodie, holding onto her like a lifeline. Izzy sighed deeply, pressing another kiss to his temple. She had avoided him for weeks now, keeping her distance out of respect for his engagement to Anne. But seeing him like this, so shattered and vulnerable—there was no way she could turn her back on him. Not now. Not ever.

The waves continued their relentless dance against the shore, but for Eddie, the only sound that mattered was her whispered reassurance and the steady beat of her heart against his ear.

It was her who advocated for him then. She fought his battles even though he did not need her to. And now, even without realizing it, she was saving him again, bringing him back to the version of himself he had nearly forgotten. Eddie felt like himself again with Izzy in his arms. All because of her.

"Are you still watching?"

The two are occupied again.

While the tub of Izzy’s self-proclaimed life-changing popcorn had been emptied long before she had found herself on her elbows and knees spread apart on her bed with Eddie holding her and snapping his hips from behind, lost again in the gravity of each other.

"Oh god, Eddie... that's it. That's it." her voice muffled since her face was buried against the pillow. "Don't stop! Don't fucking stop!"

Her back arched, feeling her stomach coil from Eddie thrusting inside her velvety walls from behind. "Not stopping, baby... Gonna blow soon, yeah?" he huffed.

They were just watching, coincidentally, "Friends" and as soon as they finished the popcorn, Izzy bit her lip and purposely stretched like a cat infront of Eddie. He did not need to be told anything, just spanked that naughty ass hard, pulled down her pajama shorts, spit on his palm, pumped his cock with it and slammed right into her.

"Mm-hmm... Cum inside me, big guy." she mumbled, gripping on her sheets.

Eddie turned his head sideways, staring at their reflection in her vanity mirror, her tits bouncing along his rhythm. Fuck, she was so hot. He just wants her all to himself and fuck her in all the ways imaginable. He slowed down his thrusts while watching their image in her mirror. Him fucking her from behind with no sense of remorse. Another sound came from his palms landing on her ass, leaving a clear red mark on her skin. A fucking slap again, causing her to moan.

"What's that baby? You like it when I fill you up, don't you?" he cooed, rubbing his palm gently from the area he mercilessly hit.

"I do..." she cried. "I really do, Eddie..."

He bit his lip and groaned when he heard his name from her mouth like a sinful wail, his cock twitching inside her. He gripped on her ass, parting it slightly as he looked at his glistening cock, throbbing and veiny, sliding in and out of her slick walls. Hitting her spot repeatedly, her walls clenched around him tighter, making Eddie shut his eyes and tilting his head back in pleasure. He was edging out.

"god you feel so fucking good baby.."

Just when he thought it couldn't get any better, Izzy tossed her hair, arched her back a little more, lifting her ass, and craned her neck just enough for her sultry eyes to meet his. Those dark eyes he'd never tire of drowning in. Ones that held him captive with any emotions it conveyed.

"Damn, Iz..." he groaned, leaning down capture her lips deeply, his tongue flicking across her lower lip, parting her mouth slightly. His palms rested against her sheets, the muscle in his knees tightening as it kept him stable, while his cock was still drilling in and out of her. She kissed him back, moaning in between as she gets close to her orgasm. His big and muscular figure towered over her while his lips trailed kisses on her back, his fingers playing with her nipples.

"So fucking tight, baby..." he groaned, shoving inside her deeper, making her gasp and grind him from behind. Her body quivered when she reached her orgasm, coating his cock with hers and burying her face into the pillow while screaming his name.

Eddie gulped. Reaching his as well while still driving inside from behind, grunting like a lusted animal. He slapped her ass again, making her whimper. "Please, Eddie.."

"Mmm.. you ready?" he asked, and she nodded.

Eddie felt it welling in his groin, deep within his balls, as he continued to thrust in and out, slowly, but then he rammed it one last time deep into her pussy, his balls throbbed and pulsed. He letting out a guttural moan and gripped her body, and she cried out loudly one more time until his hot cum exploded inside her, rope by rope.

"Fuck yes... yeah, baby..." he whispered, jerking his hip and thrusting all of it inside her before finally sliding onto her back, both panting. He kissed her shoulders, then the back of her ears, and whispered, "you're perfect, Iz. So fucking perfect."

She was far from that, and Izzy knew it. She was a mess. Emotionally wrecked, mentally unstable, and even physically—a cum dripping mess. Still in their post-sex haze, they naturally settled themselves sitting up her bed when his phone vibrated.

And again.

The messages from Anne were relentless and he hasn't looked at a single one ever since. He turned on his phone's Do Not Disturb mode, refusing to talk to anyone other than the people within the four walls of this mansion. Aside from the more frequent vibration of his phone caused by his fiancé, what truly caught his attention wasn’t that.

It was Izzy’s silence.

Sure, she chuckled at his joke when he poked fun at her magical popcorn before they started watching, but he could tell it was half-hearted. She would usually have a snappy comeback, but tonight she hadn't. He watched her shift beside him, bringing her blanket to her chest, her breath had been heavier since she stepped inside the house after grabbing her snack, and again now when their moment had collapsed.

That wasn’t normal. Eddie was not about to let it slide.

“What’s wrong? Popcorn’s lost its touch?”

Izzy shook her head, sighing deeply before finally speaking. “Anne was here earlier.”

Oh.

Eddie couldn't find his jokes now. It was serious. He sank deeper into the mattress, already knowing where this was going.

“She asked about us.”

“You told her."

She nodded. “I told her.”

After months of going behind his fiancé's back, he knew it was only about time that Anne knew. Eddie shut his eyes briefly, sighing deeply, rubbing a tired hand over his face. Finally realizing the reason why his phone was buzzing a lot more tonight, and why Izzy's mood was off. He's got a lot of things going inside his mind right now yet he's unable to find the right words to say so he let the silence stretch between them.

She did not have any words to say to him either, other than the fact that she felt guilty again. Not because she slept with Eddie for the hundredth time—no, that's already out of the window.

“I’m sorry,” she murmured.

Eddie quickly glanced at her weirdly. This was rare. What he meant by that was he did not even know this woman knew how to say "sorry" or even had that word in her personal dictionary. Even during their biggest fight, she doesn't know how to accept she was wrong.

“I said it because... I couldn’t stand the thought of you going home to get hurt again. I acted on impulse, and maybe I shouldn’t have. I should’ve let you decide that for yourself.”

He saw her fingers curled into the sheets, unable to look at him, evidently looking guilty. “If you want to go home, talk to Anne and fix things, I won’t stop you. I shouldn’t have said it. It should’ve come from you.”

Eddie watched her closely, his gaze softening. Then, he took her hand, his thumb brushing gently over her knuckles.

“Stop that,” he said quietly. "You don’t need to be sorry.”

“I do. I think I just ruined your engagement. I truly am sorry, Brock.”

Eddie didn’t let go of her hand, and with full conviction, he said:

“Well, I’m not sorry.”

Izzy stared at him, processing and trying to understand what he meant. He knew what it felt spending almost all your life regretting, fixing, and making things right even if it wasn't necesary. That meant ensuring she didn’t have to be either.

He looked at her and gave her a warm smile, then squeezing her hand, bracing himself into something inevitable.

They were still tangled in sheets, half-covered, and the TV was idly asking if they were still there on the screen. It was not the scenario he had in mind when he imagined this happening since they were in college. Eddie got tired of waiting and imagining this moment and he was determined to let it out of his chest.

Izzy was not stupid and she could already feel it settling in her stomach when Eddie straightened his body, fully turning to her.

"I used to think it was just protective instincts," he started with a stupid smile on his face. "You know, us growing up together. Watching your back, making sure you didn’t get yourself into too much trouble even though I always ended up cleaning your messes anyway."

Izzy snorted softly but didn’t interrupt.

"But then… it wasn’t just that." His fingers hovered over the sheet, absentmindedly tugging on it as his attempt to ground himself. "It became more than just making sure you didn’t end up at a random police station after doing something reckless. It became me needing to see you and talk to you every day. My whole damn day felt off if I didn’t."

Eddie inhaled, glancing at her, he looked so utterly unguarded that it nearly knocked the wind out of her. His eyes were sparkling, his smile was automatically blending along with his words, and his voice was raw.

"You know how your eyes do that thing?" he said, gesturing vaguely to his own eyes. "They turn into crescents when you smile? I swear, Iz. You could ruin my whole week, but if I see that smile, hell, it makes everything better. And don’t even get me started on your laugh—"

Izzy felt her cheeks burn, her heart hammering in her chest like some little flustered high school girl getting asked to prom by her crush. Oh god. He was really doing this.

Eddie chuckled at her silence, shaking his head. "You’re the funny one, Knight. But I swear to God, I feel a stupid amount of accomplishment whenever I make you laugh. Like, it’s better than getting a great scoop for the next Brock Report episode."

Her mind was swirling with so many colliding thoughts and she couldn’t take it anymore. Her ears were hot. She huffed, covering her face briefly before pulling her hands down, leveling him with a look.

"Brock, are you really doing this?"

He grinned and nodded. He expected her to attempt to deflect.

"Yes, Knight, I’m doing this."

Izzy exhaled in amusement and defeat, waving a hand in surrender. "Fine," she murmured, trying and failing to hide her smile. "Go on, Brock."

He did not need to be told twice and neither of them had to pretend anymore.

Eddie let out a breath, running a hand through his hair, pacing himself through the truth settling between them. Izzy was still sitted beside him, fingers grasping the sheets in her chest.

“I don’t know if I’ve got a bad case of Stockholm syndrome or something,” Eddie teased, glancing at her, “because you drive me insane.”

She chuckled, thinking to herself what a dumbass this man was right now.

“But whenever you leave, it’s like I can’t breathe.” Eddie exhaled, rubbing a hand over his face. “All I do is just wait for the day you come back and yell at me again over something petty, or get me to run to you during the most ridiculous hours."

He paused, meeting her gaze. "But I wouldn’t change a damn thing.”

Izzy raised a brow, but smiling like she knew it. She knew she loved all of those things and just waited a long time to hear this.

"Fucking hell, baby, I never knew I could love, hate, and want the same person at the same time."

She snickered, shaking her head. “Wow, thanks.”

Eddie laughed softly at that, then, without hesitation, he cupped her face, thumb grazing her cheek, refusing to break the moment now that he's about to say it.

"I know exactly what kind of person you are," he murmured while his eyes searched hers. "And I love every goddamn bit of it."

"You never stick around long," Eddie continued, his fingers lingering and holding her firmly to grounding her in place. He wanted her to soak every word coming out of his lips. He wanted to see how she takes it all in. "You’re the same dove I’ve loved then and now. And maybe I’m tempted to lock the doors, throw out the keys somewhere you won’t find just to keep you to myself, but I wouldn’t do that."

His grip softened, thumb brushing against her jaw, his tongue briefly running through his bottom lip to dampen it, preparing for his next words.

"Because a dove knows where its home is." he said calmly and his eyes are filled with nothing but adoration. "And I know you’ll always come back to me."

Damn right she will.

She raised a brow, lips curling slightly, challenging him. "So you think I’m that predictable?"

Eddie chuckled, shaking his head.

"Baby, you’re a freaking tornado. By all means, no way in hell predictable." he answered with his confident and crooked smile. "But I’ve been managing the eye of it since we were kids."

"And I don’t mind doing that for the rest of my life because—"

Thump.

“I love you,” he breathed. “Chaos included.”

Finally.

Eddie Brock has said the magic words.

Izzy didn’t respond with words.

Instead, she leaned in, letting go of the blanket around her chest as her fingers threaded into his hair and kissed him deeply. He returned each kisses with the same passion, if not more, his arms circling around her waist, pulling her closer.

Because there was no way he was letting her go.

When she finally pulled back, lips barely inches from his, she murmured, “I thought you’d never say that.” followed by her signature teasing smirk, “So what, you finally found your balls?”

Eddie scoffed, shaking his head, eyes softening. “You’re lucky I love you.”

Izzy’s smirk widened as she leaned in again, pressing another slow kiss against his lips, whispering against it, “I know, big guy.”

She pulled back just enough to meet his gaze. “You said it twice.”

Indeed he did. It felt so damn liberating. Eddie sighed, realizing yet again, he had actually lost the verbal sparring match with his best friend and he did not mind.

Sunday morning.

The day of the annual Knight Family Barbecue. Izzy's parents have always hosted this in their backyard. It started when her dad was still in the military, often deployed to other parts of the world. So whenever he was home, at least once a year, they'd gather the family around to catch up, strengthen their bond, and introduce little Isobel to other members of the family. When she became friends with little Eddie in elementary school, she insisted inviting her shy friend over until, eventually, it became a thing.

He was officially a part of it. Her relatives knew Eddie well and he knew them; they were practically a package deal, from her cousin's wedding, one of her aunt's golden anniversaries, grandparent's funeral, Eddie was Izzy's plus one.

The smell of both burning charcoal, and marinated meats are mixing with the voices of the old couple arguing whether they would set up an extra table or not. Eddie loved it. He liked the rhythm of setting up tables under Mrs. Knight’s meticulous instructions, whether the table linings matched her precious plates. He liked tossing charcoal into the hot grill pit beside Mr. Knight who was mentoring him about the precise heat control to cook the meat while ignoring how much steak juice splattered onto his shirt. Eddie was figuratively flying in and out of the mansion to the backyard.

This was the Knight family in its element and if you've come this far, you should know who is in the thick of it.

The honorary son himself.

As tradition dictated, Eddie Brock was the one doing all the damn work.

The only person missing? Isobel Knight herself.

Yup.

The so-called darling only child of the mansion, the one who thrived on disorder, the one who picked a fight with her dad yesterday at the grocery store about the difference between short ribs and baby back ribs was still asleep, dead to the world upstairs, blissfully unaware of the hurricane of preparations happening just outside her room.

Without fail, this system happens and Eddie knew exactly how this was going to go.

Soon, relatives would arrive. Aunts, uncles, cousins who are both old and young would start filling up the backyard, some screaming greetings over the fence, others immediately launching into discussions about who's brought the better dish.

And the woman he just confessed his love to last night was going to wake up to all of it.

He adjusted a tray of marinated ribs for grilling. Eddie was starting to pity himself after doing all the grunt work. "Your daughter’s still sleeping, you know," he muttered to Mr. Knight.

Her dad barely looked up, flipping a steak like Eddie hadn’t just given him damning evidence of his only child’s complete lack of responsibility.

"As she should," he said simply.

Eddie stared at him, with tongs snipping on his hand, completely unimpressed with his answer. "You’d think royalty would need to contribute at some point."

Mr. Knight smirked, shifting the meat again. "And yet, you contribute for her every year."

"I’m starting to think I was tricked into this decades ago."

The older man just hummed, clearly amused but offering nothing in the way of sympathy. Not expecting his beloved daughter to even lift a finger. Izzy would help indoors, but knowing how pissy her daughter is under the scorching sun, he knew he'd just waste his breath in scolding her. The stubborness within Isobel came from someone afterall.

Mrs. Knight passed by, setting another tray of side dishes down on the serving table before shooting Eddie a knowing glance. "Why don’t you go wake her up?"

Eddie huffed, shaking his head. "Oh, I will."

Because if he had been working all morning, Izzy was not getting away with another two hours of beauty sleep and shameless avoidance.

Not today.

Eddie stomped up the stairs with zero plans of tolerating Izzy's slacking while he spent the whole morning covered in charcoal and grease. He didn’t even knock nor ease the door open like a civilized person. Just shoved it open with his shoulder, standing in the doorway like he had just come back from war while the house princess slept peacefully in her bed.

She groaned immediately, rolling over, burying her face into her pillow.

"Get up."

"No."

"Izzy."

Izzy flopped onto her back, cracking one eye open to peer at him looking like he was a stray dog that had wandered into her bedroom, seeing him standing beside her bed, just staring back at her looking completely done.

"You smell like ten hours of labor," she muttered with her voice thick.

"And you smell like luxury and privilege."

Izzy huffed, turning onto her side, tucking the blanket closer. "Tragic. We could never work."

Eddie did not dignify that with a response and yanked her blanket away, making her gasp, feeling offended considering she was naked under those sheets.

"Eddie!"

"The barbecue starts in two hours. Your parents are downstairs. I’m sweating through layers of grueling, unpaid labor, and you’ve done nothing but sleep."

Barely awake, Izzy sat up, running a hand through her disheveled hair, sighing like this was the greatest injustice she had ever suffered. "You love doing all that," she muttered, not even apologizing.

"That is not the point," he shot back. "You’re stalling."

"You gonna do something about it?" Izzy smirked and leaned back against the head board.

Oh Isobel. Today is not the day to press on Eddie. Without any warning, he grabbed her ankle and yanked her forward off the bed, making her yell at him in outrage.

"Brock, stop!"

Eddie did not stop and dragged her halfway to the edge of the bed.

"You should’ve gotten up when I said," he muttered, hoisting her off the mattress easily, and dragged her towards her closet.

Fucking hell. This would be hot in another circumstance.

Izzy flopped against him, fully refusing to put in any effort now. This man was insane. He's gotten so comfortable just flicking her anywhere.

"You’re carrying me like a sack of flour."

"You deserve it."

"I hope my parents disown you."

Eddie sighed, finally dumping her onto her feet, pushing her toward the closet, done with this fight.

"Get dressed, princess."

Izzy groaned, but finally moved to grab a shirt. He thought that his job was done so Eddie turned toward the door while shaking his head. He was already halfway to the door when Izzy’s voice stopped him.

"You know," she mused, grabbed his wrist, stopping him. "I mean, you could leave now. But then I wouldn’t be able to kiss you."

Eddie froze, his entire brain short-circuiting immediately much to her entertainment seeing the way his shoulders tensed and his fingers twitched slightly against hers. See? Puppy dog knows his treats.

"Look at you," she teased, tilting her head again, voice sounding overly sweet and innocent in the most dangerous way possible. "I think you want me to kiss you." Leaning in and testing him.

"All you gotta do," she whispered, squeezing his wrist, "is shower."

No one was as efficient as Eddie Brock was.

Since Izzy was that insufferable, he did what any man in his position would do: he walked straight into her bathroom, turned on the shower, and let the water run hot. She barely had time to react before he was pulling his shirt off, tossing it onto her desk chair and removed his shoes.

Her eyes widened slightly. "What are you doing?"

Eddie turned toward her, unbothered, undoing the button on his jeans and pulling it down, revealing his boxers. "Showering."

"Now?"

"Well, you did say you’d kiss me after." Now removing his boxers showing his dick and bush in full view. She gulped down and did her best to put on a straight face.

"I said I could."

Eddie tossed them aside, completely ignoring that response and stepped into the bathroom. He even had the audacity to flash her an evil grin before completely stepping inside and closing the door shut.

Last night, he admitted to her that he loved her. Izzy can't stop smiling like a fool while listening to Eddie humming a song insider her shower while she got dressed as well. She glanced over his phone placed on her bedside table, tapping it lightly to check: 15 missed calls, 22 messages, all from Anne. She let it be. Maybe he was not ready to face the reality of his life for now.

Izzy barely had time to register the sound of the bathroom door opening before Eddie stepped out, damp and smug, towel slung loosely around his waist like he had no concern whatsoever about the current circumstances.

She had been pretending not to care nor notice him the moment she heard the faucet squeak closed until Eddie moved too fast towards her, barely even had time to shove him away before his arms were wrapped around her waist, tackling her down on her bed. The water droplets coming out of his hair were hitting her face. She gasped, laughing despite herself, pushing against his chest.

"Eddie, you're wet."

"Ahh. My baby's observant." he said as his arms locked tighter around her waist.

"You’re gonna get me soaked." She attempted to wiggle herself out of his arms.

"I’m okay with that."

Izzy groaned, throwing her head back, but before she could get another word in, he pressed his lips against her neck, lingering just long enough to make her really regret her own existence. She tensed, breath hitching, fingers curling against his shoulders.

Eddie laughed softly, lips ghosting against her jaw now. "Oh, so now you’re quiet?"

She was trying so hard to summon even an ounce of resistance because she was getting turned on again. His hands felt on her waist, the way his voice had dropped slightly, the way his hair was still damp, and HE KNEW what he was doing to her. He leaned in again, lips brushing the corner of her mouth.

"I did shower," he murmured.

Thank god, I had my birth control shot. Izzy thought.

She pressed her lips against his, arms circling around his neck and he sighed against her mouth, melting into their kiss. It lingered for a while, slowly and deliberately with him letting Izzy settle the pace. Her fingers grazed against the back of his neck, pulling him closer.

Eddie smiled against her mouth, barely, tilting his head slightly to ease into the kiss, keeping it steady and unrushed. He could feel her heart hammering in the way he's pressing against her. She slid her arms tighter around him, finally giving in completely and he took that cue immediately, his knees spreading her thighs and hitching up her sun dress.

Izzy huffed a quiet laugh, shaking her head slightly, breaking the kiss just enough to murmur against his lips. "You’re way too smug right now."

He nudged her nose with his, gaze flickering between her lips and her eyes. "You haven’t pulled away yet." Leaning in again to press another kiss behind her ears to test the waters even more.

Then he heard a clank of silverware downstairs...

Eddie had one job when he came up here. One simple mission which he completely forgot: Wake Izzy up. Drag her downstairs. Get her to contribute to the barbecue instead of sleeping until noon like the most spoiled child in existence. He was not supposed to be sucked in her bed, fresh out of a shower, arms still wrapped around her waist, and actively contemplating terrible decisions.

"You know," she murmured, fingers tracing slow patterns against his shoulders, "I think I’m officially awake now."

"That was the goal." He answered, trying to reset his brain.

"Yeah, but now I feel energized."

"That’s great, Knight. Time to put that energy to use downstairs."

She dismantled the towel wrapping around his waist and threw if on the floor. With her gaze still fixed on his, she sensually licked her palm and slid her wet hand to grip around his already hard cock, pumping it slowly.

"There are plenty of ways to put this energy to use." she purred, still working him out underneath.

Eddie closed his eyes, feeling how good she was in giving him a hand job as he silently prayed for strength. He opened them again and immediately regretted that choice. Seeing her biting her lips, and raising her brows like asking for confirmation if they're going to do it or not.

He weighed his options like a man at war. Her parents are waiting for him to go back downstairs to help. Izzy saw his restraint and contemplation.

"Wow," she said, tapping her fingers against his chest. "You really have to fight it, big guy?" her thumb drawing circles on the tip of his cock, leaking with his pre cum.

Eddie groaned, dropping his head against her shoulder for a second, fully aware of his own weakness. She brushed her fingers up into his hair, knowing very well that it was a way of getting him to submit to her.

"Come on, big guy. Fuck me. Fuck me hard."

God. He wanted to. His hips were automatically bucking towards her entrance but he stopped. Eddie shook his head, grabbed her wrist, and yanked her grip away from his cock. Pushing himself up from her, and walking towards her closet, with his cock still hard and aching.

Her eyes were wide. What did just happen?

"The fuck was that?!" She yelled.

Eddie did not flinch and pretended he didn't hear anything as he slipped on his fresh clothes. Ignoring the whining woman on the bed.

"Baby let's get you downstairs before I make a terrible decision." he muttered in defeat, adjusting his stance in discomfort around his pants as he reached his hand out to Izzy.

"You owe me one, Brock." she grabbed his hand, pulling herself up from bed and rolled her eyes at him.

It was worse than he thought.

Worse than the blue balls he painstakingly shook off...

The second the cars pull up infront of the mansion's driveway, Izzy's little cousins bolted through the main door and tackled Eddie to the ground, climbing onto him like human jungle gym, screaming his name, demanding attention. He took it in stride, tossing one over his shoulder playfully while another clung to his arm, laughing through the overwhelming energy of it all.

Wrangling the gremlins were added to his list of responsibilities that day.

The backyard was now filled with family members. One table designated for Mrs. Knight and the infamous aunties, talking about everything they set their eyes on. The uncles gathered near the cooler, exchanging beers, Mr. Knight laughing at something one of them said.

Izzy finally emerged, after getting ready, slipping beside Eddie and helped him out with the kids. They worked together instinctively because they had been doing this for years. Eddie watched her unapologetically play roughly with one of the kids, looking like he's always been that helplessly in love with her, completely forgetting he's still, technically, engaged.

That was when the murmurs started.

Nothing escapes the sharp eyes of the aunties. They wondered why a young woman like Izzy who was vibrant, beautiful, and charming had not yet settled down whereas Eddie, her best friend, is already to be married to Anne. When the perfect opportunity arrived aka when Eddie had found himself taking over the grill once again and momentarily separated from their rowdy niece, the aunties hovered like seasoned interrogators.

(Face card reference for Izzy's Aunts)

The meat wasn't the only thing getting grilled today.

"Leave my sweet boy alone." Mrs. Knight hummed towards the aunties from her seat on the table as if she was expecting the vultures to feast on the carcass that is Eddie Brock.

He looked up and found three pairs of pair of eyes sizing him up which he found so uncomfortable so lifted a piece of cooked meat using his tongs from the grill.

"Uh... would you like some stea—"

Aunt Samantha, the oldest sister of Mr. Knight, who refused to have kids of her own, touched his biceps and said, "Where is Isobel? Why isn't she helping you?"

Eddie looked around and saw that the little cousins were back to bothering their respective dads, and Izzy slipped somewhere again. Probably evading her responsibilities once more. He was internally screaming at her again for leaving him alone to deal with her dad's sisters.

"Oh please. That girl has been making Eddie do all the work." Aunt Claire scoffed, taking a sip of her martini, and continued, "I'd say you even the score, Eddie. Make her do all the dishes later."

The youngest one, Aunt Beth, with her usual no bullshit tone said, "It's not like Brock here was forced to do all that. He's been willingly suffering for her for years."

Eddie would take police interrogations and public scrunity over this any day. He was suffering and his Knight was nowhere to be found. It feels like Izzy's three split personalities has morphed into their own beings.

"The problem," Samantha began, dragging her fingers lightly down Eddie’s bicep as if that were part of the discussion, making the young man shiver inwardly, "is that you’ve ruined our dear Izzy for other men."

"Excuse me?" Eddie blinked, genuinely thrown off.

Claire sighed dramatically, swishing her drink. "It’s true. That girl hardly entertains suitors these days. And why? Because you set the bar too high, Brock."

Eddie glanced toward the house instinctively, as if Izzy was going to magically appear and take over this conversation.

Surprise surprise. She didn’t.

Beth’s gaze remained unflinching. "So tell us, Brock. What exactly did you do to our niece to make her so unimpressed by every other man?"

Eddie did not have a proper answer to that. Instead, he did what any smart man would do: he focused on the fire, flipping a steak with just enough force to pretend he wasn’t feeling the weight of their words.

"You ladies really like stirring the pot, huh?" he muttered nervously, shaking his head.

"We don’t just stir, darling. We set the whole damn kitchen on fire." Aunt Sam said.

"I'd hate to be the guy to compete with you, Eddie." The ever-competitive Aunt Claire pointed out.

Beth raised an eyebrow, watching how the young man was painfully tensed at the conversation. "They're fucking." she blatantly said without any reservations.

Every single person within earshot, all of them, including the two other aunties, Mrs. Knight, and Eddie snapped their heads towards her with their jaws slack.

"Beth!" Mrs. Knight hissed, putting her drink down at the table.

"What? It's obvious. They're having a good fuck. Right, loverboy?" Aunt beth smirked, tipping her beer bottle to cheers.

Suddenly, Eddie just wants to be buried alive right then and there considering how he just felt his soul left his body. He would happily dig up his own grave. "We're not—" he scrambled for an answer, but Claire was already waving her hands towards her sister in exasperation.

"Beth, we don’t just say those things out loud!"

Samantha, thoroughly entertained, raised her brows and tightened her grip on Eddie's arms. "I mean, she’s not wrong. That's the great thing about youth." Turning her face to look at the young man, "It's alright, honey. Fuck our niece's brains out as you please. Fuck her real good." And winked at him.

Oh dear god.

He's heard of the word fuck too much today and he doesn't expect it to come from Izzy's aunts.

When he had a moment to compose himself, he finally found his voice, throwing his tongs onto the table beside the grill. "Okay. No. That’s not what’s happening."

"I didn't peg you for a liar, Brock." Beth scoffed, not buying it.

Mrs. Knight was equally mortified as her honorary son was. She stood up from the table, walked towards the grill, taking the tongs from her son's hand and gestures him to go away and save himself.

"Sweetheart, go inside before you pass out from all this grilling." she said, trying to diffuse what's left of the situation.

Eddie sighed in relief, and muttered a quick 'thank you' before beelined straight to the kitchen. He had to gulp down a cold glass of water after that uncomfortable (understatement of the year) conversation. What the hell was that? He thought as he leaned against the kitchen counter, letting out an exhausted sigh.

He looked up when he heard footsteps coming towards the kitchen. It was Izzy. In a fresh set of clothes, and hair pulled up in a messy ponytail. She paused the moment she set her eyes on him. "Here I thought I was in hell having to scrub off some gremlin puke off me." she said, eyeing him. "You look worse. What happened?"

"Your aunts."

Eddie did not need to explain more. Izzy was caught up and laughed. He narrowed his gaze at her, annoyed as to why she's laughing at his sufferings and said, "They think I’ve set the bar so high that you refuse to settle for anyone else," he muttered, rubbing his face. "And then Beth decided to announce to the entire family that we’re screwing."

She stared at him.

Then she burst out laughing.

A full, unrestrained, gleeful laugh that Eddie could only hear whenever he suffers like her own personal entertainment. He glared at her with his arms crossed but it only made her laugh harder.

"You—" Izzy gasped, trying yet failing to recover, "you got grilled by the aunties and Beth just said that?"

"Without a doubt she did."

"And what did you do?" Izzy wiped at her eyes all watery from laughing.

"What do you think I did?" He huffed, gesturing vaguely toward the backyard. "Your mom saved me before I could die on the spot."

She looked at him at horror now. Their dirty little secret was slowly getting exposed to the people around them. Her mind was already working on possible pre-emptive strike or retaliation to troubleshoot this mess. They strategized in the kitchen like people going back to the war zone at the backyard. Her plan was simple, Eddie should settle down and eat at their own table, while Izzy brings out the big guns—her dad.

Eddie watched the scene unfold while he tries to focus on scooping the sides on his plate, and instinctly, one for Izzy as well as he watched her strut past her aunties with that signature smirk of hers, one that practically screamed 'watch this'.

"Oh what is she going to do now?" Aunt Claire said while the three of them squinted their eyes at Izzy. Her mom, on the other hand, just shook her head, already knowing what's going to happen.

Settling down their curated plates on the table, Eddie witnessed the moment she reached her dad, she had leaned in, whispered something conspiratorial into his ear, and just like that, the old man’s grip on his beer tightened. She even paused and pulled back to pout at her dad like she suffered so much in life. He can't believe her dad was even buying this. Not long after, Mr. Knight got up from the uncle's table and walked towards his sister's. His daughter, on the other hand, looked smug sitting down beside him.

He was just about to ask Izzy what did she do until he heard her dad scolding his sisters about talking nonsense and leaving his daughter alone. Again, Eddie barely had time to process the absurdity of it all when he saw Izzy happy munching on a cob of corn from his plate, feeling smug that her aunties wouldn't bother her anytime soon.

While being lectured by Mr. Knight, Samantha rolled her eyes, Claire kept justifying their grilling, and Beth was having a stare down with Izzy like she was saying she knew she was right and they could pretend all they want.

Unable to question the head of the family's final verdict, the aunties had no choice but to obey. Izzy's dad wasn’t having any of it. "I don’t wanna hear another damn word about my kid’s business," he declared, his tone final. "You women have better things to talk about."

Eddie, still stunned by the efficiency of Izzy’s maneuver, slowly turned his head toward her. "You just—" Eddie gestured vaguely toward her father, who had successfully shut down the grilling session. "That's cheating, Knight."

Izzy shrugged, already halfway through the ribs on her plate and licking some sauce off her thumb. "It’s called strategy, Brock. As if they didn't expect what's coming. You should know."

Yeah. He should've known.

That's how Eddie survived this year's chaotic barbecue.

-

After the Knightmares had gone home, Eddie was left to do all the grunt work again. Izzy may be just inside the vicinity of the mansion but she does escape a lot. Mrs. Knight was carefully placing back her treasured pieces of plates to its designated closet while Mr. Knight was already snoring his usual armchair in the living room. Eddie finally found her outside, leaning against the porch railing, a cigar between her fingers.

He paused, watching her for a beat, before stepping up behind her, wrapping his arms around her waist, pressing a kiss to the back of her head.

"You smoking now?" he muttered against her hair, eyebrows furrowing as she blew a slow stream of smoke to the side.

She tilted her head, giving him a lazy grin. "Beth gave it to me before she left. Told me it was the best vice there is."

Eddie pressed his chin against her shoulder, watching the way the smoke curled into the air. "And?"

"I don’t think so."

She turned in his hold, facing him now. He glanced over his shoulder instinctively, scanning the doorway, checking for any sign of movement inside the house. They had managed to evade scrutiny for now, but after the day they had? He wasn’t ready to risk another round of grilling.

"You ever tried anything else?" he asked, studying her. "Any vices I don’t know about?"

Izzy hummed, exhaling the last of the smoke, flicking the cigar onto the steps before pressing closer against him.

"I don’t need another one," she murmured, a slow smile curling at the edges of her lips as he raised an eyebrow, waiting for her to explain. She reached up, brushing her fingers along his jaw. "I’ve already got the best one," she whispered.

"You."

And then she kissed him.

Eddie barely had time to process it before his hands found their place on her waist, pulling her closer, the weight of the day dissolving into the press of her lips. He didn’t know how long they stood there, wrapped up in each other, only that time had slowed enough to make it impossible to care.

Izzy’s hands had found their way into his hair, pulling him closer, demanding for more. He had one arm curled around her waist, the other braced against the railing, keeping her stable. Her lips tasted like beer and faint cigar smoke, but she, herself, was intoxicating enough.

He thought about the years he spent pretending this was just another fleeting moment for them.

He also thought about every line they had drawn between them including every excuse, dismissal, and half-hearted attempt to pretend this didn’t mean something. All of that felt like it had been obliterated the second her lips touched his.

Right now, all he knew was that the woman he loved was in his arms, pulled close against him, her hands in his hair, both of them melting into each other.

Then it slipped from her mouth.

Between kisses and breaths, she said,

"Hmm.. I love you.."

It felt like a giant boulder had crushed them. Both of them halted in their kiss, their lips still brushing against each other, his hands tightening instinctively on her waist. Izzy stilled too, eyes fluttering open just slightly, because she hadn’t even meant to say it, but her damn feelings were all over the place and she can barely hold it together.

She didn’t move away. Instead, she lingered, staring at him through half-lidded eyes. His eyes slowly creased with a smirk forming in his lips. Izzy knew he was about to be a pompous ass any second now.

"You wanna say that again, Knight?"

She deadpanned him. "No. That's all you get."

He stole a quick peck, caging her. "Come on baby." Another kiss on her cheek. "Say it again." Then another one on her other cheek. "I said it twice."

Izzy squinted at him, pretending to look bored, but Eddie saw the way her lips twitched and how she was trying way too hard not to smile. Because she definitely loves the hell out of him.

"You're not going to budge? Fine. I'll kiss you again until I hear it." Eddie grinned, leaning into her and capturing her lips once more for a deep kiss. Izzy let out a muffled laugh against his lips, shaking her head, thinking about how silly they both are.

If this was going to be her everyday, she would die happily with crows feet on the outer corner of her eyes.

"Fine.. mmm.. i love you, Eddie." she muttered between kisses, but she wasn’t stopping him.

He smirked against her mouth. "Good girl."

Izzy groaned dramatically, tilting her head back completely annoyed at his answer, only for Eddie to take full advantage and pepper another kiss along her jaw and neck. They seem to forgot that they were on a public space. On the Mansion's front porch which was accessible to anyone still awake. Oh they did forget until...

GASP.

They both quickly turned to see her mom standing a feet away from them. Her hands covering her mouth, eyes wide in shock. Her daughter was wrapped around the arms of her supposed 'son' and his lips were on her neck. This was definitely NOT a sibling dynamic.

But Eddie was on cloud nine. He didn't care. Fully drunk on Izzy's magical words. He turned casually, arms still wrapped around her daughter and with zero shame in his expression, and said,

"Oh, hey, Mrs. Knight! Your daughter just confessed that she loves me."

Izzy jerked her head toward him immediately, horrified.

"You IDIOT!" she hissed, smacking his arm.

Boy, Eddie did not care since he was still riding the high of what had just happened, failing to recognize that he had just signed his own death warrant.

Mrs. Knight pointed at them both voice sharp. "Inside! Now!"

And they both straightened up and walked inside the living room where the even bigger gun was snoring. While walking inside, Eddie chuckled and said, "Guess the secret’s out, huh?"

Izzy glared at him, fully ready to strangle him, before groaning as she dragged a hand down her face. She wasn't planning on coming out to her parents today. She could barely process her own feelings.

For a good five minutes, they sat there. In a couch near the armchair where her dad was peacefully sleeping. Her mom paced in front of them, her mind boggled with all the questions and the fact that her sister-in-laws were right. Sensing the tension, Eddie the menace, has decided to speak up first.

"Mrs. Knight," he started, attempting to charm the older woman, "before you say anything—"

"Oh, I’m gonna say a lot, Eddie Brock," she snapped. She was on full name basis now. "Starting with how long has this been going on?!"

Her daughter groaned, throwing her back to sink on the couch, rubbing her temples like she was about to endure the worst lecture of her life while covering her face with a throw pillow. She refuses to meet her mom's eyes.

While Eddie was enjoying every second of it.

"Depends on what you mean by ‘this.’ If you mean the actual confession, that happened, oh, about five minutes ago."

Making Izzy smack his head using the throw pillow she's been using to shield her face.

Mrs. Knight was not amused, and narrowed her eyes on them. "And before that?"

Izzy was silently praying to every known god that Eddie would be smart enough to lie. Please let him have functioning brain just for this second. Please God. Please.

"Oh, years."

"EDDIE!" Izzy yelled and launched the pillow at his face.

Oh my. Beth was right.

"You mean to tell me," her mom muttered, voice dangerously calm, "that I have been living with this under my roof?"

"If it helps, Mrs. Knight, you’ve been an excellent mother-in-law this whole time."

The older woman was too stunned to speak, just looking at them like they had the audacity to be this calm. Meanwhile, Isobel just wanted to throw herself out of the window when her dad stirred on his chair, awakened by the noise around him.

Good fucking luck, Eddie Brock.

He was still alive. But it was 2AM and Eddie Brock was driving back to his apartment using Mr. Knight's pick up truck.

The old man's terms were simple. He is not about to stay there and continue their affair, not until he settles everything with Anne because the former military man refuses to have his one and only beloved daughter become a professional mistress. By all means, he had to do it right.

And that also means, properly ending things with his Anne. The woman he also loved.

Eddie halted the truck on his usual parking space just infront of their apartment building. He looked up the windows and saw that the lights were off. She was probably asleep. It was the third night since she invited Carl over, and the place has never felt more distant to his heart. He lived here for years, yet for some reason, it felt like it wasn't his home anymore.

Before he drove there, he finally checked her messages. Anne sent a lot. From guilty, longing, begging, to disbelief, anger, disgust, curses, all range of emotions he would considered as valid. He did cheat on her. That was a piece of history he could never change. Until he saw her last message that she sent a couple of hours before he came back to their apartment—Anne sent his father away and wanting him to come home so they could talk. Properly.

He used his keys to enter their shared space. It was clean, though some of his father's empty beer bottles have been evidently piled around the trash bin, it did not look like Anne messed up the place. His legs moved to check their bedroom, there she was just as he predicted, sleeping.

Choosing her, stopping his affair with his best friend, and just proceeding with his life like nothing happened was surely the easy way out.

But easy does not necessarily mean happy.

He could've married her in a couple of months since all wedding preparations have been settled and paid for. The invitations were already sent months ago. Catering, flowers, cake, his tuxedo, her wedding dress, the wedding rings—all are ready to go. Stable and convenient. Eddie imagined it all happening and in every scenario, it ends up with him being miserable and longing for the same person he'd always wanted his entire life.

"Annie." He brushed his hands softly along her arms, waking her up.

Her eyes squinted, seeing his blurry figure at first. Blinking a few more times later, she realized her fiancé was there. In the flesh. Standing beside their bed.

"You're home." she faintly called out, smiling.

"No, Annie." he gently shook his head, returning the faint smile. "I'm here to make things right... and apologize."

Eddie did love her. He made that clear when they started talking like proper adults in their dining table over a cup of coffee. Neither of them would be sleeping anytime soon anyway and this conversation has been long overdue. Anne was a smart woman. A lawyer.

She already knew she lost this case.

Still, that did not stop her from asking all the questions that has been running through her mind. Was the problem her? Was it something she did that pushed him to cheat? Was he ever truly there? And he answered that straight up. He did not try to defend himself nor justify what he did.

"I love her, Annie. The biggest mistake I have ever done was not to fight for it. Dragged you into this mess when I knew she was still lingering somewhere in my mind." Eddie said, not looking at her. "I know what I did what unforgivable. I don't expect anything from you. I just wanted to let you know that I'm sorry I hurt you."

Anne knew that for the first time in months, Eddie Brock was being honest with her. But that does not change the fact that her heart is shattered into pieces she had no idea how to rebuild. She was made a fool by the man she loved and she thought she was going to spend the rest of her life with.

Honesty was the least that he could do for ruining everything between them.

She made sure he knew how deeply it hurt her. How she sleeps every night dreaming that things were finally okay between them. How she dreams of marrying him and waking up with a sharp stabbing pain in her chest. How she dreamt that the reality she was in was just a nightmare she just woke up in.

How the existence of Isobel Knight had put her intro shreds.

"Do you know what’s worse than catching you in a lie, Eddie?" she muttered coldly. "Whenever I close my eyes, I will always remember how you lived in it. I would remember how you stood next to me every day like you weren’t thinking about someone else the second I looked away."

Anne finally stood.

"Tell me honestly," she muttered, crossing her arms, standing right in front of him, "was it ever going to be me, Eddie?"

Eddie looked up to her with his jaw tight, his pulse thrumming at her question. She shook her head and scoffed, watching him fail to answer immediately.

"Give me the truth, Eddie. Everything is broken anyway."

He exhaled hard, swallowed, and said,

"No."

Anne nodded in defeat, pursing her lips as she held back her tears but failed anyway. She cried. And that was the moment Eddie felt every ounce of her heartbreak, because for all the time he had spent pretending, for all the months of carefully balancing the lie, it all came down to this.

It was done.

"That’s all I needed to hear." she said, wiping her tears away.

When Eddie left that night, Izzy had a long talk with her parents. It was not your typical "who's the lucky man our daughter had chosen?" conversation since they knew the guy she loved.

For the hundredth time, they raised him.

Skipping all the getting to know part and whether or not they liked the man, and straight to "Are you serious?" , "Have you two lost your goddamn minds?!" , "When are you planning to tell us?" , "Did you realize that he was in a committed relationship before you started another one of your madness, Isobel?!".

Her parents rarely yelled nor scolded her despite the well-known fact that she's an instigator. They brushed it off sometimes as her being bored as an only child, or being raised too comfortably that's why she had to seek out trouble. However, this wasn't a mere prank on someone like egging their windshields or wrapping their house in toilet paper... Their daughter whom they loved so much was a mistress. What Izzy did not realize until then was how it broke both of her parent's heart to know she did such an awful thing.

And Izzy apologized. Climbed on her parent's bed and hugged the both of them, sobbing her heart out. Not just play pouting to get her way, but a genuine cry. Feeling sorry for disappointing them because of her choices, but she made it clear that she truly loves Eddie. She loved him so much and hoped that they would see past what they did, stating that more than anyone else, she only needed their approval.

Of course, Mr. Knight was the first one to say yes. He only wanted his little girl to be happy, and Eddie makes her more than just that. Her mom followed, saying she was honestly starting to worry when her aunties expressed how her daughter can barely maintain a guy. As any mothers would think, she worried that when the time comes that they are no longer in this world, she'd have no one.

Despite her mom's initial reaction, she was relieved that Eddie would always take care of her daughter.

Izzy's parents saw them grow up together, cry together, fight each other, study, play, laugh, make jokes, be each other's confidante, and love each other in a way that's pure and burning brightly.

Not long after, they heard the familiar hum of her dad's truck from the driveway as he pulled up in front of the mansion. Eddie killed the engine, slinging his bag over his shoulder as he stepped out of the truck. All of his things were stuffed at the back. His heart pounded in his chest, a mixture of anticipation and anxiety, but there was a quiet determination in the way he stepped forward.

The front door creaked open before he even had the chance to be near it. Izzy ran from her parents' room and stepped out, her messy hair tied back with exhaustion evident under her eyes but it was nothing to the breathless relief that washed over her face when she saw him a few steps down.

“Hey, Knight,” he said. “Can I crash here tonight? If you’ll take me.”

This dumbass.

She just let out an incredulous laugh, tears forming in her eyes as she shook her head. Then, without warning, she bolted down the steps toward him in her bare feet.

“Idiot,” she murmured through a chuckle as she threw herself into his arms, her legs wrapping around his waist like they had countless times before. Eddie stumbled slightly but caught her with ease, his arms anchoring her against him, naturally kissing her hair, inhaling the scent of her shampoo and the familiar warmth of her body against his felt like home.

Eddie Brock.

Izzy cupped his face with her hands, her thumbs brushing the rough stubble on his jaw. She looked at him like he was the only person in the world. Then, she leaned in and kissed him deeply. Eddie responded instantly, his hand lifted her up higher as he held her closer.

This was it.

They're not just best friends anymore.

When they finally broke apart, their foreheads pressed together, Izzy couldn’t help the mischievous smile that curved her lips. “Sorry, Brock. The house is full tonight.”

Eddie arched an eyebrow, his smile mirroring hers. “Yeah? Why’s that?”

“Because,” she said, her voice dropping to a playful whisper as she leaned in, “some idiot just happened to finally use his brain, and he’ll be staying there.”

He let out a surprised laugh, his grin spreading wide as he shook his head. “Sounds like a pain in the ass.”

“Oh, buddy. You have no idea,” Izzy teased and kissed him again.

Unbeknownst to them, her parents stood by their bedroom window upstairs, watching the scene unfold. Her dad muttered something about not wanting to see that, while her mom swatted his arm, a knowing smile on her face. “Let them be,” she whispered. “It’s been a long time coming.”

A/N: YOU STILL THERE? YOU HAPPY NOW? 😭 cuz I am and idk if its bc they finally said it after fucking 100x or its because the next chapter wraps it all up. 😭 my messages are open for questions and everything under the sun. I seriously don't want to let go of them but every beginning has its end. Can't make a slow burn material with regards to the fucking but emotionally, it was a very very long ride. 😂 Let's see our babies in a short 3-part (here we go again with the false promises, then it becomes more 🙈) prequel (or bits of sequel) of DWAH soon! 😩❤️ my heart is so full. THANK YOU ALL!