Don't Worry About Her (Eddie Brock x Reader)
PART 10 - Only Fools Rush In (FINALE)
Summary: They always say, when a guy tells you not to worry about his girl best friend, you probably should. Izzy's wild and free-spirited nature has always contrasted with her best friend Eddie's quest for stability. Now that Eddie is engaged, he never expected Izzy to complicate things for both of them.
TW: Smut, creampie, oral sex, LOTS of making out, hand job, P in V, money talks, Explicit Words, Minors DNI. I removed the cheating tag BECUZZZZ YAY!
Word count: 10.6k (IT'S THE LAST ONE WHAT AM I SUPPOSED TO DO)
A/N: ::::::(((((((((((( last part of our babies. I hope you enjoyed the ride. I had a hard time finishing this because a part of me did not want this to end. MOMMA'S GOT A BAD CASE OF SEPANX. I love these two so so so muchhhhhhh aaaaaaaHhhhhhh!!!
Anyway, enjoy. 😭❤️ Thank you thank you thank you for keeping up with EZZY and for loving them as much as I did.
No pressure tag 💕 @jelly-rei @potter-solomons @feveredvisions @tickettride @rach5ive @lovebydaylite @dreamygirli3
Previous Part
Eddie Brock spent many years wondering how his life would be if he had the balls to admit that he's always been whipped for Izzy Knight. How easy things could've been if he was already with the person who knew his 'icks' even before he could face them on his own.
Imagine: no years spent figuring out their compatibility, no pretending to be someone he wasn't because she knew who he truly is, and she understood the traumatized and complicated versions of him.
Or how it must've felt to be loved by her every single day without any set backs or love disguised as convenient friendship.
Thank God his balls finally descended. (You know what I mean.)
"Daddy, no." Izzy shook her head in defiance.
One week into living together. The Knights are seated at the dining table having her mom's pot roast for dinner. It was a normal family time with her mom putting extra servings on her favorite child, which obviously isn't Izzy, until her dad decided it was time to size up Eddie Brock. That meant an endless flow of whiskey over the well-prepared "how serious are you about my daughter?" talk.
And yes. Eddie is officially a tenant in the mansion. A fact that Izzy was still unsure whether she liked or not, considering he's been earning her mom's good graces even more. Mrs. Knight even woke Eddie up earlier that Sunday morning to drive her to the market while he was still naked and tangled up with her daughter under a thick and comfy blanket.
A sight that became tonight's dinner topic, which led them to this point.
"Izzy, it's fine," Eddie calmly said after wiping his face with a napkin, unaware of the upcoming punishment he'd endure later on.
"How many of my previous boyfriends have you actually had the talk with, and how many of them came home the same?!"
"Don't be so dramatic, Isobel. Those boys did not stand a chance for a reason."
Mrs. Knight casually placed a freshly baked peach cobbler on the table and already scooped out a hefty serving for Eddie like it was just another normal time that husband and daughter were having another one of their showdowns.
"Eat lots, son. You're going to need it." her mom gave Eddie a smile and gave him a soft tap at the back.
Drinks poured. Words exchanged. Promises made.
Later that night, Eddie wobbled his way up to Izzy’s room. Her dad was a seasoned drinker, but he had an edge from having watched some of her former boyfriends succumb horribly to the challenge. Her eyes were already closed, facing the wall and clutching her pillows, when she heard him huffing deeply, his clothes rustling against his body.
As expected, he was drunk and there was no one to blame but her dad.
The mattress dipped, and then she felt his arms wrap around her waist as he slid in beside her, slipping under the covers. He pressed a few warm kisses to her bare shoulders before gently coaxing her to face him. His entire face was flushed, eyes heavy-lidded and smile slow looking like a man willingly tortured.
"I see you survived." Izzy murmured, placing her hand on his biceps, squeezing it lightly.
Eddie leaned in to kiss her, his breath warm against her lips, the taste of whiskey lingering as his tongue slid against hers. She tightened her grip on his biceps when he deepened the kiss and pulled her closer, groaning into her mouth—a sound that made Izzy smirk, even as he pressed into her like he had something to prove. His hands were heavy and slowly dragging down her back, sliding inside the hem of her pajama shorts and lace panties then gripping at her ass cheeks like he owned it.
"Baby," he murmured between kisses, his voice already drunk and thick. "Your dad's trying to kill me."
She laughed, threading her fingers through his hair and giving it a gentle tug, watching his eyes flutter shut for a fleeting second before locking back onto hers.
"He’s testing you." pressing a sweet kiss to his jaw. "You already live here, Brock. Throughout the years, you already proved yourself to be more than suitable for his daughter."
Eddie groaned again, burying his face in the curve of her neck as he exhaled deeply, his grip tightening against her skin, pulling a soft whimper from her lips.
"Yeah? How about I prove it another way, baby?" His lips dragged lazily against her skin, his words a low hum that made her stomach flip.
Ah, the breeding talk. The once-shy, sweet-natured boy had become surprisingly vocal about it since they started dating. Honestly, she still wasn’t sure if he genuinely wanted to knock her up or if he just lived for the look she gave him every time which was equal parts disbelief and murder. Either way, the answer hadn’t changed. She was still on birth control.
Izzy snorted, pulling back slightly, her fingers still tangled in his hair. "Don't say things you'll regret in the morning, big guy," she teased, grinning. "And I doubt we are capable of raising what you just suggested to prove right now."
He huffed, shaking his head and moving his hands up in her waist again, dragging his lips against the curve of her neck. "Mmm. I'm merely putting it out there, baby. Besides, what’s a drunk evening with your dad gonna cost me?"
She scoffed. "You? A hangover. Me? Babysitting. Trust me, I do not wish to take care of babies nor a grown man."
He chuckled. "That's nothing." his smirk deepening, drunken haze softening every word like confession felt easier now. "I mean, I get you at the end of it."
"Waking up next to you. Coming home to you. You curled up in my arms at the end of every fucking day." he continued.
His croaky and drunk voice made her snicker. She pressed a slow kiss against his temple, settling against his chest like she wasn’t going anywhere either.
"God, you are so drunk," she muttered.
"And so in love with you, Iz."
Every day, without fail, he tells her how much he loves her as if he was making up for the years he carried this unresolved feelings and not being able to tell her just how much she meant to him.
It took about a week for Izzy’s parents to adjust to the new normal: their daughter and her longtime best friend-now-boyfriend acting like they were the only two people in existing inside the house. At first, the reactions were nothing short of cinematic horror. Her mom nearly dropped a plate when she caught Izzy stealing a kiss in the hallway, complete with dramatic gasping and whispered prayers. Her dad, on the other hand, stared like he was watching a slow-motion car crash and was physically incapable of looking away. By Friday, Izzy and her dad sat down for what could only be described as a “boundaries and what’s left of your father’s sanity” talk. Izzy, naturally, nodded solemnly… then ignored about 70% of it.
Eventually, her parents resigned themselves to survival. Meanwhile, Eddie had entered a quiet phase of acceptance, in which he simply pretended not to notice her mom’s exhausted sighs or the way her dad’s soul visibly left his body every time Izzy straddled Eddie’s lap in the living room like it was a recliner that kissed back.
He smiled. He nodded. He apologized with his eyes. Izzy? She kissed her boyfriend in front of her dad just to watch the vein in his temple twitch.
They lived in the mansion for the first seven months of their relationship. It was a mutual decision and here's why:
For the first three months,
Everything that was hers inside that house became his as well, including her parents. Eddie still worked, his show thriving and securing a prime-time slot on one of the largest networks. The news of his and Anne’s broken engagement shocked most people. However, those closest to them—family, close friends, and even some figures from their past—were not surprised when he got together with Izzy so quickly.
Financially, Eddie took responsibility for every expense tied to his failed engagement. It was almost ironic that from the very beginning of their relationship, they had already found themselves having this difficult conversation as a couple. It happened the moment he had just arrived home from work.
He tossed his shirt onto the chair, changing into his pajamas before climbing into bed beside Izzy, who was stretched out, absentmindedly scrolling through her phone.
"Baby," he muttered, settling against the pillows, "We need to rethink how we handle money for the next few months."
She locked her screen, turning onto her side to face him. "Because of the engagement stuff?"
"Yeah. I covered everything. Venue deposits, catering, all the pre-wedding expenses. Thousands just—gone." He ran his fingers through his hair. "And it’s not that we’re drowning, but it did set us back. I wanted to get us a new place but I can't... for now."
Izzy studied him for a moment, then reached for his hand, lacing her fingers through his. "I do have money, you know. I could just... help."
"Not happening." he snorted.
"Why?"
He turned his head toward her. "Because I take care of us. I don’t need your dad’s trust fund to bail me out."
She stared at him for another moment, then shifted closer. It meant Eddie working twice as hard, staying at the office for overtime, and taking on more cases than he usually did. Basically drowning himself in work, which was an idea Izzy hated.
She loved and understood him, but they didn’t always see eye to eye.
So she sat up, crossing her arms. "Edward, my love, let’s explore this properly."
He already knew she was about to make a point just by calling him with his government name.
“You’ll drown in work, come home exhausted, and I’ll barely see you. Then what? We just… exist around each other?” She raised her brows at him, then continued, “If I offered to help, to make this easier, would you actually consider it? Or would you refuse out of pure stubbornness?”
"I already told you. I don’t need—"
"You don’t need saving, yeah, I got that speech." She cut him off. "But do you need to punish yourself for it?"
Izzy’s coming from a place of security, but also a kind of emotional generosity. To her, it’s about partnership. She sees no shame in sharing what she has because she’s already all-in. Neither one of them was wrong. They’re just speaking different emotional languages.
"We’re supposed to do this together, Brock."
"I know, baby. It’s not forever." He sat up beside her, rubbing his hand gently along her tense back. "I need you to understand where I’m coming from. I put myself in this mess, I need to get out of it."
She opened her mouth, ready to reason logic with him but he cut her off before she could even speak saying, "Isobel, please. Not now."
He settled it because that was the right thing to do, even if that meant he was tired all the time, but none of it compared to the feeling of coming home to the Knight's mansion, having dinner with Izzy and her parents, enjoying her mom's cooking and her dad's over the top military man lectures, and getting tackled by Izzy's endless sniff kisses whenever he walked through the door.
The next morning after that conversation, Izzy embraced him tightly before he went to work, without any cracks nor hesitations, she muttered: "We stick it out, big guy. Through the good or the bad. It's you and me."
They could always get their own place since Izzy was sitting pretty on her dad's buttload of retirement money and was more than willing to pay for that instead of funding her international voyage but Eddie insisted that he would—they just need a bit more time. A decision admired by her folks showing the way he grounded himself, how he refused to let her handle it, and somewhere along the way, the decision was made: they would stay.
At least until Eddie got his footing back.
Her parents wanted them to be there. Their daughter who barely stayed put in the mansion was terrorizing them in her own charming way on a daily basis and now, they have Eddie too.
Then came next 3-6 months which became a little too comfortable for the new couple.
The mansion, which had once been eerily quiet, was now alive with noise and color that made it feel like a real home again. Their energy seeped into every corner of the house, whether it was the way they bickered over the last slice of lasagna, Izzy pretending to be full just to see if Eddie would take it, only for him to insist on giving it to her anyway because, according to him, chivalry wasn’t dead.
Or when Eddie was scolding Izzy in the morning, taking care of her hangover after another night out with friends while she grinned through his lectures, completely unfazed. Mr. and Mrs. Knight liked him for sure.
But there was something they hadn't expected.
There were other noises.
Noises that echoed from Izzy’s bedroom.
The occasional thudding of the headboard, the unmistakable rhythmic creaking of the bed, the odd involuntary noises that neither of them wanted to acknowledge. That happened day and night, as long as Eddie Brock was home and alone with their daughter, those goddamn shameless noises refused to stop. The longer they stayed in the estate, the more unapologetic they'd become.
Like this one specific morning when his eyes slowly opened as the morning light passes through the sheer and pastel colored curtains. His body molded against the soft mattress, and his bare skin sliding against the soft sheets that felt like clouds. When he took a deep breath, the floral fragance that enveloped this room sent his heart stuttering even if its been months since he started staying there but the feeling of looking forward to waking up beside her never went away. It was not a borrowed space anymore. It was also his.
Then he felt a warm weight against him. Bare and skin to skin. They rarely slept with clothes on.
Her cheek rests against his chest, her breath slow and steady, her limbs tangled effortlessly with his. The rise and fall of her body against him is calm and familiar, after they’ve spent years wrapped up like this. Now without the pretense. This was the real deal and he has never felt more serene and in place.
His hand moves slowly and instinctively, tracing paths along her shoulder, down her arm, across the soft curve of her back, and revelently settling at her waist.
She stirred, breathing him in, and her lashes fluttering against the tattooed skin of his chest. Her hands slid against his stomach, pulling him closer.
"You have work today?" she mumbled.
"Yeah, baby."
She let out a quiet grumble, burying her face to his chest while her arms pulled him closer. "Five more minutes." she mutters, hand sliding down between his legs. "Oh good morning to you too."
Eddie groaned, tilting his head back the pillow, and bucked his hips a bit more when he felt her hands wrap around him. He knew he should be getting up and preparing for work. Izzy propped her free elbow up, watched him with her lazy morning eyes as her other hand worked him underneath the sheets.
"You are making it hard for me to say no, Iz." he breathed, meeting her gaze.
"I make everything hard, big guy." she smirked and leaned down to capture his lips. His hand slid up, cupped her jaw, keeping her there, and deepening the kiss. Her hand still working him.
This had been his type of mornings for the past few months: Izzy would either jerk him off or have her warm lips around his cock to set him for the day. One could argue that it works wonders than coffee to jumpstart his day.
He felt himself tethering on the edge of his release, he hissed, pulling away from their heated kiss. Izzy hums against his lips, a quiet, pleased sound, shifting up just slightly to chase the kiss when he starts to pull back. His cock twitched in her touch when her touch slid inside his mouth.
He breathed her in while his arm wrapped around her waist, and the other slipped in between her legs. God she was dripping wet.
"Come here." He growled against her lips, and kicked the sheets off them.
He removed her hands around his cock, guided her to slide and lay on top of him, pushing her hips down as he dabbed the tip along her wet folds agonizingly and repeatedly to lubricate his hard cock but it already felt so damn good.
"Let's take it slow today, big guy." she purred and cupped his face with one hand to kiss him again, while her other hand steered his tip towards her entrance, entering her slowly. His muscular arms wrapped around her shoulders, hands caressing her figure tenderly.
Izzy rolled her hips slowly on top of him, breaking away from their kiss to let out a moan, making Eddie grip on her ass cheek with one hand and to thrust her hips. "I still have work today, baby." he huffed. "Got those meetings this morning."
She hummed, letting Eddie set their pace, his hands guided her hips to roll faster. He wanted to take it slow. That was a new thing for them especially during Sunday mornings. Just lazy morning sex. But he was a busy working man with so much plans for the both of them.
"Hmm... fuck, Eddie." she bit her lip when he kept hitting her spot.
Her kisses became sloppy, breaking every now and then, crying out his name. Her walls clenching around him and her moans were enthralling to hear. "You want my cum, baby? Want me to fill you up?"
"Yes... fuck yes."
"Mmm.." he removed his hand from her ass cheeks and reached down to find her clit to play with his fingers, stimulating her even more. He witness her brows furrow and her mouth part. "You are so fucking beautiful, Iz." He grunted. "Fuck me. How did I get so lucky?"
Her hips continued to roll against him. "Oh god. Daddy— I'm gonna cum..."
He slapped her ass cheek so hard upon hearing that word. It was supposed to be a tender sex. Izzy just had to rewire his brain this early in the morning. The hot stinging pain of his spank mixed with him pistoning inside her harder made sent her to overdrive. "Yes— yes daddy. That's it—"
"Cum for daddy, sweetheart." He breathed while watching her sexy scrunched up face with her head tilted back against their pillow.
It did not take long and a few more kisses, loud moans, and synchronized thrust when Eddie bucked his hips deeper inside her and held her waist in place until she came with him. Her face buried against his neck while he shuddered for every release he made inside her, still thrusting every bit of it slowly.
He did not remove his cock yet. He let it stay inside her and his eyes flicked on the digital clock in the nightstand. He was going to be late yet again.
Eddie kissed her hair while Izzy was still catching her breath.
"Just stay for another five minutes, big guy. Blame it on the traffic." she mumbled against his skin, hugging him tighter.
He chuckled but did not disagree. He can barely say 'no' to an extra time with Izzy. "Alright, baby." His flaccid penis slowly slipping out of her while they cuddle for a few minutes more.
The first time Eddie caught her dad staring at him during breakfast, he nearly choked on his coffee while Izzy was having the time of her life, completely unbothered by the fact that her parents were visibly suffering from the realization that their daughter’s sex life was very much thriving.
Her dad’s grip on his coffee mug was too tight, his jaw set like he was actively restraining himself from saying something. Her mom sighed for the third time, stirring her tea like it could somehow erase even just the noises from her brain.
Eddie, desperately clinging to normalcy, cleared his throat. "Morning."
Her dad blinked at him. Then at Izzy. Then back at Eddie.
Izzy grinned, taking a sip of her juice. "Good morning, Daddy."
The Knight patriarch exhaled sharply, looking out the window like he was searching for some divine intervention. "Izzy, sweetheart. Just call me dad. No more 'Daddy' when we just overheard you call Eddie that."
Eddie choked. Izzy laughed.
Then, by the seventh month, as much as they loved staying with her parents, Eddie had financially recovered and suggested they get their own apartment—a place big enough for the both of them, where they could make all the ungodly noises they wanted.
It was located in the heart of San Francisco, downtown. A little far from her parents' place in the Marina, yet still accessible. One bedroom with a queen-sized bed (because Izzy likes her space, yet always snuggles up to Eddie). A living room. Toilet and bath. Balcony. Kitchen and dining area. His coffee nook next to her snack bar. His stack of case files and paperwork placed on her makeshift vanity table. A non-negotiable comfy couch strategically positioned in front of the TV. Potted succulents near the sink, which Eddie replaces every now and then because Izzy forgets to water them and gets upset when they die, so he buys another to replace them. A vintage vase at the center of their small dining table because Izzy loves fresh flowers. A bowl of fruit inside the fridge because she refuses to eat it unless it’s chilled enough.
Most importantly, it was near his work at the station and close to everything Izzy needed for her personal adventures.
Eddie barely slept that first night in their new place. His heart won't stop thumping like crazy just by thinking of how hard they've come. Sure, Izzy slept with him for a few nights in his dorm or in his old apartment, but this time, both their names were on the lease, their clothes were tangled together in the same overstuffed closet, her perfume clung to his jackets, his socks ended up in her drawers, and that feeling they used to chase—that home they found in borrowed spaces and makeshift mornings—had finally rooted itself in four real walls they could call their own.
She was still the same woman with an itchy feet. However, she made the conscious decision of not giving into the temptation of booking a random plane ticket outside the country and calmly settle in San Francisco for a while with Eddie. She found a way to have her adventures around the area and sleep beside him at night.
This gave Eddie some free time too. He saw the way his friends' face lit up when he finally joined them again for another boys' night out. Teasing had begun then Mark let something slip.
"Dude," he snickered, looking at Dale. "Tell him."
"Fine. We made a bet in college about when you'd finally get with Izzy."
Eddie stared, offended on principle. "You what?"
Mark raised a hand. "Listen, I said right after college. Dale said ten years because he thought you were too slow."
"Izzy's gonna kill you both if she hears this." Eddie scoffed in offense and shook his head. "She'll take me down with you two out of spite."
"Yeah, but we wanted you two to end up together so I think she'll spare us." Mark shrugged.
"We just figured we'd have to drag you kicking and screaming toward the realization." Dale added.
At least now, they were together. That counted for more than either of them could say. They’d chosen their friends carefully—kept the circle tight, warm, and mercifully free of judgment. Eddie already got more than enough of that from work, not to mention the occasional stiff smile from Anne’s well-connected acquaintances he still had to shake hands with now and then.
But all he needed was her. In their apartment.
With Eddie shirtless in sweatpants, looking like a fully domesticated greek god. Izzy wearing nothing but his college journalism tee that is too big for her frame while showing legs for days, and straddled on his lap on their beloved couch. Her lips were red, kiss-bruised, and swollen, but he’d still press his mouth to hers like it’s the first time. His hands roaming around her body, underneath his shirt, like he was physically memorizing her like his favorite gospel.
It always started quietly. Peaceful. No pressure.
The noises come whenever they cuddle, and if it slipped, it slipped. Nothing mattered. Only the way her hips moved in sync with his. His hands in her waist, both a muscle memory and devotion, claiming every stretch of her skin.
And when their breathing slowed and her forehead rested against his, all smitten as she whispered, “I told you the couch was a good investment.”
Eddie kissed her again, lovingly smiling back at her. “Worth it.”
He has never been more loved yet consistently dehydrated ever since moving into their own space.
Twelve months later.
Eddie cursed himself for being this late. The weather was weirdly pouring that day. He planned to be early and be there before Izzy arrives but apparently, the universe had other plans. He was starting to think that his karma was starting to make him pay for cheating on his ex-fiancé with his best friend.
Her arrival was around 9:30PM PDT and she made that very clear when she texted him again earlier that day: 'You better be there when I arrive because I DON'T like airline food and I will be starving. k? love u.'
Izzy was flying in from her month-long Dubai trip, which was Eddie's first anniversary gift to her. Once they officially got together and lived in her parents' mansion, she never left. For almost a year, Izzy remained in San Francisco for him.
Eddie really thought that his girlfriend, who spent years flying in and out of the country, leaving him on his own would seamlessly slip back to her old habits. She squealed and leaped when he gave her his gift. She was even cracking jokes while he was driving her to the airport.
And every five minutes, she’d poke him: “Don’t you cry, Brock.”
To which he replied, every single time: “I’m not. I’m fine. You’re being dramatic.”
Until they reached the curb at the departure bay. He got out, popped the trunk, and there it was—the waterworks.
"Oh baby." he said softly, putting down her luggage beside them, and wrapped his arms around his sobbing girlfriend.
Izzy blamed three things for her tears at the moment: First, being a newly domesticated chaos changed something within her; Second, his beautiful cock will be missed; and Third, she was not used to being away from Eddie anymore. She established her roots throughout the year of living together and sleeping beside each other every single night.
But she had to go. He wanted her to go.
He knew she missed traveling and spreading her non-existent wings, but frankly, he needed some time to orchestrate his proposal, which included asking her parents for her hand in marriage, buying a ring, and arranging the perfect setup.
Yes.
You did read that right.
The goal today was simple: finish his articles and cases, film an episode of The Brock Report, get off work early, pick Izzy up at the airport, and propose to her there.
In that short amount of time, Eddie Brock had laid out his plans perfectly. Izzy was arriving a day before their first anniversary, and he had imagined them waking up beside each other to celebrate both their engagement and the milestone. Oh dear. It had sounded so good in his head.
True to his luck, his boss had him film an additional clip to air that night regarding a corrupted budget delaying repairs on the city's sewage system. This caused him to leave work later than expected and put him in bumper-to-bumper traffic on his way to the airport. He was still a bit damp from filming under the pouring rain, even with his raincoat on. His friends, Mark and Dale, who were supposed to film and capture the moment, had canceled due to the storm.
Eddie kept telling himself it was fine. Everything would still go as planned, even if he was late and even if they had no documentation of the day. It was fine.
At least, that’s what he kept telling himself—until he saw the time.
"Fucking hell. She's gonna kill me." he muttered to himself, checking the time on his watch. It was already 10:15PM. She's been waiting for about 45 minutes now.
'Landed.'
'Just getting my baggage sorted. Wait for me at the usual spot.'
'Where are you?'
'I'm here already.'
'You're not answering any of my calls and texts. Where are you?'
'I'M STARVING, BROCK.'
'Did you forget?'
'Did you really forget? Aren't you the one who bought my ticket?'
And her last message was 'Brock, I swear to God if you don't call me right now I'm gonna-'
Eddie did not finish reading that and instantly dialed her number. It did not even finish the second ring when Izzy quickly picked up the call.
"WHERE ARE YOU?" she hissed through the phone.
He rubbed his temple, gripping his phone tightly as he maneuvered through the traffic. “Baby, I’m on my way. Got held up at work, and it’s a mess out here. I just need fifteen minutes—”
On the other hand, Izzy felt her stomach growl. She was hangry. Both angry and hungry. “FIFTEEN?!” Izzy sounded personally offended, making him flinch. “Eddie—” she continued and muttered a curse underneath her breath, which he heard very clearly, and ended the call before she could say something really mean. She had to remind herself to be nice, he just paid for her vacation, and they're celebrating a milestone tomorrow.
Ha.
When Izzy abruptly ended the call, he made another sigh and threw his phone to the passenger seat. He was not having a good day, at least it would be worth it when they finally get together because-
Wait.
No...
Fuck.
His hands quickly searched his jacket's pocket both inside and outside. Frantically twisting around his seat while driving, feeling the fabric of the back and front pocket of his jeans. Nothing.
"FUCK!! Where is it?!" Eddie was starting to have a melt down. The ring was missing. Then he remembered, he left it in his desk drawer when he was going to film under the pouring rain. He did not want it to get messed up. He slumped his head back to the headrest multiple times in frustration.
None of it was working. None. His plans had gone down the drain, and now he had no ring to propose with, and Izzy was angry at him for being late. The universe really had its own way of giving him his karma, and it was a year late—just when he was about to propose to his best friend. Perfect timing.
When he saw Izzy from afar, she was seated on one of her pretty pink suitcases, clutching her stomach. His heart sank, remembering his girlfriend had stomach issues and wasn’t allowed to skip meals. He pulled up, parked his car, and quickly ran toward her, pulling her into a tight hug before she could even retaliate.
"I'm sorry. Sorry I'm late." he kissed the top of her hair, both of her cheeks, and lips. Then hugged her again tightly, "Sorry for making you wait, baby."
He felt her shoulders relax under his warm embrace and her arms circling around his waist as she nuzzled her face in his belly. "You smell like shit." she mumbled against his shirt.
He froze.
"Uh- yeah... I filmed near a sewage line earlier so..."
Izzy jerked back instantly with eyes wide in horror. She pulled out her handkerchief and started wiping her face like she's been contaminated.
"EWWWW!! You could’ve—oh, I dunno, thought of that before you smothered me with your sewage-scented hug!" she said with a revolted expression in her face which he found so endearing. She was his everything. He was seriously smitten.
And because he was annoying as hell, he pulled her again into his hug and placed a few soft kisses on her hair, saying, "Nah. I missed you too much to even think of that." he smirked, feeling her hands push him away with all her might.
He really did missed her and he's got his own messed up way of showing that.
"DEAR GOD, Eddie. I am starving and you let me sniff your ninja fucking turtle smell. OFF! GET OFF!" She said, shooing him away and making him laugh as he complied.
His stench was the whipped cream on this banana sundae kind of bad luck streak he was having. And you know that there's a cherry on top of that when they both flicked their heads towards the direction where they heard a woman squeal and the people gathered around it.
"Oh great." he muttered under his breath, shaking his head at the sight of a man getting down on one knee, holding out a velvet box to the woman in front of him. Izzy recognized that woman since she was on the same flight with her.
"Delilah, will you marry me?" the man asked.
"Yes! Yes! Of course, Lucas! I will marry you!" Delilah cried, earning cheers for the people around them as they kissed. Some people took their phones out to capture this picture perfect airline commercial-like of a proposal.
Eddie glanced at Izzy, who was completely unaware that he was supposed to propose to her at that moment as well. Her face was clearly cringing as she watched the scene unfold.
Our dear Izzy had absolutely no idea that she was meant to have that kind of moment too.
If her boyfriend hadn’t messed it up so badly.
They left, not wanting to watch any more of it—just straight to loading her luggage into his car before driving to her favorite 24-hour burger joint.
-
She was tired, and refused to speak to him (nor kiss him) the entire car ride. It was only when they sat down in a red leather booth, finally having her fill of her usual order, that she finally looked like she was in the mood to talk. She was even happy dancing while taking a sip of her chocolate milkshake. The transformation.
He gulped down his burger with his soda and asked, "What's with that face earlier?" gesturing his hands towards his face, imitating Izzy's cringing expression.
She squinted her eyes at him, thinking he was just mocking her again but then her eyes grew wide she realized he was talking about earlier at the airport.
"OOOHHHH that. Yeah. I hate proposals."
His face fell.
"What?"
Izzy held a finger in front of him while she finished munching on her fries, not caring about a damn thing in the world. Still chewing, she said, "Mmm... don't like it. Not falling for that propaganda. Wedding preparations too. Bleh."
Is it possible to sprinkle some colorful push pins onto Eddie’s bad luck sundae? Because that’s exactly what his throat feels like right now as he swallows hard, trying his best not to spill any painful emotions to the oblivious woman in front of him.
Eddie Brock had a carefully crafted plan, even if it was completely messed up from start to finish. Still, he had thought about it from the moment they finally got together.
The hours he spent researching and choosing the perfect ring, asking her parents—only for her to hate it?
He forced himself an awkward little giggle. "Yeah? Hate it that much, huh?"
Izzy pursed her lips and nodded slowly, as if she truly resents the idea while she takes a bite of her burger again, a mix of the meat's juices and sauces dripping down her plate. Then she continued, “I swear, Brock.” She exhaled, shaking her head dramatically. “I could never do that Pinterest-perfect wedding Anne did. I didn’t even wanna attend your engagement party back then.”
Eddie exhaled slowly through his exaggeratedly flared nose, keeping his smile glued in place.
She casually took another bite of her burger and continued with her mouth full, voice loud, shameless as ever.
“I just went and jacked you off, then got out.”
She is not even lowering her voice, purposely speaking louder because her mouth is full of burger. God, she is shameless. He quickly looks around, scanning the place, relieved that there aren’t many people around to hear her. His ears burn instantly, and his stomach drops as his brain flashes back to how her hands worked him like magic under the table.
At the time, he had no idea that in a few months, he would end up calling off that engagement because of the woman giving him a hand job that night.
He scratches his head, struggling to find the right words to say. Seriously, it’s like a huge, repeating slap to his face just listening to Izzy right now. With a deep breath and another forced smile, he asked, "Well have you even considered marrying at all?"
Izzy halted a bite to her burger, looking at him skeptically before slowly placing it down. "What kind of question is that? Obviously, I'd like to get married one day. I just don't like the hassle of the events normal couples had to go through before the actual ceremony. Just get married. That's it."
A notification popped up on his phone, which was strategically placed on his thigh. It was her mom asking if he had proposed yet and what had happened. Eddie desperately brushed the thought off because there was no goddamn proposal happening on his end, and that was far from reality. He wanted to type back that her daughter had just told him she hated proposals. Instead, Eddie kept himself focused on their conversation.
The remains of his burger were long forgotten on his plate. He had lost his appetite while the woman in front of him was about to finish hers.
As painful as it was, he knew her. Izzy wasn’t the type to fuss over floral arrangements or the perfect wedding theme. She was not Anne, who would make him wear an expensive tuxedo—one that was now tucked somewhere in Izzy’s closet—nor would she eat pretentious servings at a grand plaza reception.
That wasn’t her thing.
He swiped his tongue briefly to his lips and asked, "What's your ideal wedding then?"
Her nose scrunched up at his question as she thought hard about her answer, then nodded. She had something in mind but decided to finish her burger and fries first, take another sip of her milkshake, then a content burp before finally answering him.
"Shotgun wedding in Vegas. Burgers and Fries after. Just like this." she even shrugged when she answered.
His jaw dropped.
Just because...
That was so her.
Spontaneous. Fuss-free. Jump right into it.
Izzy didn’t even have to think hard about her answer. She just brushed it off, like someone had asked her how she wanted her eggs cooked that morning. It sat so effortlessly on the top of her mind, as if it had always been there, waiting to be said.
He blinked twice, struggling to find an answer.
"You okay?" she asked.
He looked at her again, cleared his throat and nodded. “Yea—yeah. I just—uh… Can we swing by my office before we head home? I forgot something important.”
She shrugged, not really caring whether they stop by or not. "For a sharp journalist, you sure forget a lot of things, big guy."
Eddie rolled his eyes.
-
The ring was exactly where he had left it.
Eddie pulled open his desk drawer, his fingers brushing against the velvet box with a quiet exhale. At least something tonight had gone according to plan. He changed his clothes while he was there too—mostly because Izzy had spent the entire car ride complaining that his scent was making her nauseous.
In her words: "Seriously, Brock. I almost threw up my milkshake. Fix it."
This was the same woman who had insisted on waiting for him inside the car while she took a nap. It was 11:30 PM when he opened the car door, waking her up with a gentle shake, telling her they’d leave the car there.
"What now?" She groaned.
"We're going somewhere, baby."
Izzy deadpanned him for a minute but got out of his car. Eddie loaded her luggage into the back of the Uber he had booked for them while she barely looked around, too tired to care, and resumed her nap in the backseat. Eddie slid in beside her, wrapping an arm around her shoulders as she instinctively leaned against him.
It was hard dodging her questions about his plans and where they were going when she was awake. He got a moment of silence while Izzy was napping against him, so he took the chance to sneak in a message to her mom, telling her that he did not propose and that there had been a change of plans.
By 11:55 PM, their Uber arrived at their destination.
When Izzy got out of the car, half-conscious, she rubbed her eyes and looked at Eddie, then at the entrance of the place, then back at him. "Are you sure you pinned the right place?" she asked.
Eddie kept checking his watch, waiting for their Cinderella moment as the clock struck 12 while they walked. Her arms were looped around his while they pulled her luggage, with his duffle bag securely tucked on top of one of them.
This place was Izzy's second home.
San Francisco International Airport.
The only thing that worked in his favor today was that the arm on his watch pointed directly to the middle the moment they reached the counter. Izzy tugged at his sleeve as the realization slowly crept in. He pulled her closer, placed a quick kiss on her temple, and smiled at the ticket agent behind the desk. He handed them their passports and said:
"Two tickets to Las Vegas, please."
The agent nodded and started processing their tickets. When Eddie finally faced her again, she was watching him with an amused look.
"That's your plan? Kidnapping me and then marrying me?" she smirked, slowly wrapping her arms around his neck.
Eddie held her waist, his thumbs brushing against the fabric of her coat, leaning in to rest his forehead against hers.
"Happy anniversary, baby."
Izzy bit her lip and smiled.
Then, suddenly, she froze.
"Wait—Eddie." She pulled back slightly, eyebrows furrowing. "We don’t even have a ring."
A smirk tugging at his lips as he reached into his coat pocket as Izzy watched, eyes narrowing, completely suspicious, until she saw it.
The velvet box.
She blinked, staring at it, realization hitting her all at once. "You—you were going to propose," she breathed out, looking back at him with eyes wide in disbelief. "You could've just told me!"
Eddie scoffed, flipping the box open lazily, revealing the ring inside. "Nah, Iz. Not after you told me you didn’t like proposals." His smirk deepened as he held it up between them. "And I don’t see you complaining now."
Her eyes flickered to the ring, then to him, then back to the ring again.
Without any more retort, she tilted her head slightly and brushed her lips against his, pulling him closer to deepen the kiss. His arms wrapped around her waist, kissing her back—slow and lingering. She smiled into it, breath hitching, fingers tightening, holding onto him like she never wanted to let go.
Because it was Eddie Brock.
She might have made a lot of questionable decisions throughout her life, but marrying him?
That was a no-brainer.
They breathed in between the kisses but never let go. Both of them sinking deep into it, savoring this moment because everything finally fell into place. Her fingers gently grazing his nape, and her other hand threaded through his hair. Eddie growled silently against her lips, as she gently pulled away with a smug smile on her lips.
"Happy anniversary, big guy. Save some for our honeymoon, alright?" she teased, giving him another quick peck on the lips.
They hadn't booked anything fancy for their wedding flight and were more than happy to jump on the first available one, even if it meant squeezing themselves into narrow economy seats without complaint.
It was the middle of the night, the day of their first anniversary, and none of it mattered.
He had completely forgotten about the long ass night he had just been through, feeling Izzy curled into his side, her head resting against his shoulder. He adjusted his arm slightly to make sure she was comfortable.
Her fingers traced lazy patterns over the tattoos on his arm, half-conscious but still lingering in the space between wakefulness and sleep.
She tilted her face toward him, brushing her lips against his before pulling him closer, deepening their kiss. He inhaled the scent of her honeysuckle perfume mixed with the sterile airplane air. He slid his hand to her waist, pulling her just a fraction closer, his fingers pressing lightly into the fabric of her coat.
Them casually making out in economy class and the person sitting beside them was not having it.
"You taste like airport coffee," she mumbled against his lips.
"And you taste like chocolate milkshake," he said, smirking slightly.
She hummed, satisfied, and let herself drift off again, fingers still loosely curled in his shirt. Eddie exhaled, finally allowing himself to relax for the first time all day.
Everything had been a mess.
Every plan had derailed, every moment had felt out of his control.
But right now?
They were on their way to Vegas and that was all that mattered.
When they arrived in Las Vegas, Izzy instantly knew which hotel they would be staying at. She loved this place. She was used to going there for a wild night she would happily forget on her way home.
King-size bed. Spacious bedroom and living room. Jacuzzi. A huge window view of the neon lights. Plush carpets. A freaking chandelier.
Things were slowly working out.
Inside their suite, she made Eddie shower to wash away his ninja-turtle scent, or else she was going to file a health violation case against him. He complied, knowing there was no arguing with her, while Izzy dug through her suitcase, sorting through whatever she had brought back from Dubai to wear for their spontaneous Vegas wedding.
She found something. A perfect "in-case-of-party-emergencies" outfit she had tucked into her suitcase.
It was not a white dress.
She pulled out a fitted metallic gold number with thin straps, a low back, and mid-thigh length. Next came the sleek red-bottom stilettos Eddie had once bought her (on his credit card, naturally). She then reached for her signature fur coat, white with bold brown spots, effortlessly statement-making.
Turning to Eddie’s duffle, she unzipped it with zero expectations. She snorted instantly. The man packed like a journalist on the run—spare work clothes she had forced him to keep in rotation months ago because he kept coming home either sweaty or smelling like a stray dog.
"Holy hell, Brock," she muttered, pulling out the best yet barely formal black jacket she could salvage.
Black jacket. Crisp white top. Black jeans. Sneakers.
She smoothed them out over the bed with a nod, mismatched pieces coming together like they were always meant to be.
Now for a little something.
Eddie stood under the warm running shower, head tilted forward, rinsing away his shampoo. He did not realize that Izzy already stepped inside, fully naked as well, to join him until he felt her fingers trailing lightly down his spine before resting around his waist, making him tense for half a second before exhaling, shaking his head slightly.
"Should’ve seen that coming."
"You really should’ve," she murmured against his shoulder, pressing a slow and warm kiss there, breathing in the scent of fresh hotel soap from his skin.
He let out a low chuckle, finally turning to face her, hands sliding to her hips. "If this is your honeymoon preview, I think I won already." he muttered.
Izzy grinned, fingers threading into his wet hair, tugging just enough to make him tilt his chin down toward her.
"Oh, you haven’t seen anything yet, Big guy."
He kissed her before she could keep talking, a slow pull of warmth between them, water streaming down their backs while his hands roam around her body. She hummed against his lips as they deepen the kiss, her hand was still gripping on his hair while the other one slid down his abdomen, her hands wrapping around his cock then pumping it with her hands. He let out a groan against her lips then she pressed another kiss to his jaw. Her lips worked her way down to his neck when he tilted his head slightly to give her more access.
"Iz—" he grunted. "Are we really gonna do this now?" Now holding her waist, not stopping whatever plan she has in mind.
It was 3 AM, and they were supposed to get married as soon as they arrived. They had barely gotten any sleep and were running on the caffeine the airline had given them.
Izzy smirked against his collarbone and said, "I won't spoil you before the wedding, big guy." trailing her kisses down to his chest, her hands still working on his cock. "But I'd like to give you a little anniversary gift..."
He leaned back against the glass panel his hips bucking towards her hands while her tongue travelled across his tight six-pack, kneeling down infront of him. She kissed the tip of his cock while stroking it then gave it a long, wet, and slow lick from the base to the tip. Her eyes flicked upwards, meeting his and she smirked.
"Last time I'll be sucking my boyfriend's cock then.."
That got him.
And that she started sucking slowly, moaning while engulfing his entire shaft, when his hand raked through her locks and pushed his cock deeper inside her mouth. She tightened her mouth, swirling her tongue, and lips sloppy wet at the same time as she took him in and out.
Because a few hours later, she would be giving head to her "husband".
-
They walked the bright streets of Las Vegas in their wedding attire, the neon lights casting a colorful glow on Izzy's bare shoulders as she clutched her fur coat. Eddie couldn't take his eyes off her.
They were both exhausted, running on minimal sleep and airline coffee, yet somehow this woman—his fiancé—looked effortlessly stunning. She embodied Vegas itself, chaotic and electric, and somehow, in this moment, he felt like he was winning at life.
"What?" she asked when she caught him staring.
"Nothing. Just thinking about how ridiculously perfect this is," he said, smiling.
Izzy abruptly stopped in front of a tacky 24/7 chapel, its sign flashing WED FAST, WED FOREVER in blinding neon letters. She wasted no time in grabbing Eddie’s hand and dragging him inside.
The place looked exactly as one would expect—less religious, more motel-like. A pink plastic and neon heart hung on the wall with the words LOVE ME HARDER glowing in the middle.
At the front desk, a bored-looking man droned through the usual speech about forms and logistics, his words rolling off his tongue as if he'd recited them a hundred times that day. He barely glanced up as he muttered, "At least you two aren’t drunk," before processing their paperwork and calling in an officiant.
Eddie and Izzy stood before the altar, facing each other with grins that bordered on disbelief. Between them stood a questionable middle-aged man, their officiant, who looked like he'd seen everything.
When the "ceremony" started, Eddie could barely heard a thing because his gaze was lost deep into Izzy's eyes who was watching him just the same. There wasn't any hint of regret nor doubt. Fully committed in this moment to tie themselves together in the word 'forever'.
The little girl with pig tails who forced him to befriend her; the teenager who made friends with everyone in high school but only kept him; the chaos in college who unknowingly broke many hearts of the women who tried to be with him; and now the woman that all became his girlfriend, fiancé, and wife within 24 hours.
The officiant continued without pause. "Do you, Edward Brock, take this woman to be your lawfully wedded wife, to have and to hold, through sickness and health—"
"Yeah," Eddie said instantly and without hesitation, making Izzy snort.
"Man’s eager," the officiant muttered before turning to her. "And do you, Isobel Knight, take this man—"
"Obviously," she interrupted, eyes already bent along with her smile which he loved. They said their vows everyday. They said it the moment they confessed their love.
They intend to keep their those with or without marriage but let's face it, it was always going to be them together.
"Then by the power vested in me by the state of Nevada, I now pronounce you husband and wife."
There was no dramatic pause, no grandiose announcement. Just like that.
They were married.
Locked in.
"I love you, Izzy."
"I fucking love you more, Edward."
Izzy barely gave him time to process it before she grabbed the front of his jacket, yanking him into a kiss. Eddie slipped his tongue inside hers, deepening it, one hand settling at her waist, the other gently cupping her jaw. Hungry. Hot. But still in love.
Somewhere in the background, the officiant coughed. "You need the papers signed, guys."
Izzy ignored him, pulling Eddie impossibly closer.
"Yeah, yeah," Eddie murmured against her lips. "We’ll get to it."
And they did. Eventually.
After they kissed a little longer.
-
Their honeymoon started the moment the officiant proclaimed them as husband and wife. Over their 'reception' at the diner, Izzy kept sliding her foot up and down his legs as they ate. Then on their way back, his hands slipped under her fur coat, gripping her back tightly, making her wince and bite her lips while looking at him. Finally, at the elevator, when it's just the two of them alone, both of their lips were swollen, hair messed up, and they were both panting by the time it dinged in their floor.
Her fur coat, his jacket, his shoes, and her heels were all found somewhere on the carpeted floor.
Izzy was not even surprised when he shoved her against the hotel room wall the moment she heard Eddie lock the door, a smug smirk on her face as she looked down at her very hungry husband. Her legs folded around his hips as her dress pooled up her thighs. He growled when his fingers felt her soaking wet folds and this whole time, his wife went commando.
"We have a bed, husband." she purred yet her hands were undoing his pants.
His mouth met hers in a fervent, deep kiss, his pants already on the floor as he kicked them aside. One of her arm anchored herself around his neck and the other one held his cock and glided his tip along her folds.
He trailed kisses on her neck, then to her shoulders, down to her collarbones. Those fucking neck kisses while pinned against the wall—Eddie was giving her the whole 'fuck me against the wall' fantasy. "Bed's too far." he mumbled against her skin, lips sucking while his teeth sinked in, leaving bruised marks on his wife's skin as if legally tying the knot was not enough to let the people know she was his.
Eddie pushed his cock inside her slick walls, making her hold unto his biceps to keep her in place while her head tilted back against the wall as he started bucking his hips.
"Fuck, Izzy." he hissed as he pulled almost all the way out then rammed inside her even deeper. He did that again, and again, slowly at first as if he wanted to savor the moment.
"Please, babe... Don't stop." she moaned.
He loved watching her melt against him—mouth parted slightly, eyes rolled back, her shoulders scraping up-down against the wall while his name breathed out of her mouth along with her whispered i love yous. He fucked her slow and deep while marveling at the fact that she was now his wife.
Eddie got what he wanted all along.
She gasped when he tugged her closer and started thrusting quicker, feeling like she was being forced to go through the wall, her hands clawing both the wallpaper and his muscular shoulder.
"Oh god, Eddie. Fuck!" she screamed, planting her cheek against the wall with her eyes closed, clenching around him as her stomach coiled.
"No, no. Look at your husband, baby." he whispered, grabbing her jaw to tilt her head back to face him. "Open your eyes, Izzy."
She obeyed, looking at him with those pleading, half-lidded eyes, breathing unevenly. Her leg twitched against his hip he continued drilling in and out of her. "Mm-hmm.. my wife's gonna fucking cum on me huh?" He took his hand away from her jaw and started rubbing her clit in repetitive circles, overstimulating her. He kissed her neck again and mumbled against her skin, "Go on then. Let it go for Daddy."
Fucking hell she did. She came hard but he was not done fucking her. He groaned, stopping briefly. Holding it in. He did not want to end it just yet, and carried her back to their king sized bed while his hard cock was still inside her.
Izzy kissed him the moment they were on the bed, fingers sliding under the hem of his shirt, taking it off him, and captured his lips again. She arched her back and begun sliding off her dress when Eddie held her hand tightly and said, "Leave it." he muttered in between their sloppy kisses. "Gonna fuck you in that fucking dress." Then he bent her knee with one hand and pumped his cock in and out of her again.
The sound of their hotel room filled with the rustling of her dress against the soft white hotel duvets along with their breathless moans. Her clit was still throbbing from her earlier release, and he was taking his sweet time fucking her. He stops every now and then when he feels himself tethering on edge then resumes thrusting again until Izzy felt her stomach coiling for the second time. "Babe come on—you feel so good." she whimpered.
Eddie leaned down to kiss her neck. "Where do you want it, baby?"
"Inside—All of it. I need you to cum with me, husband." she hissed against his ears. God, husband. The fucking word was a complete sentence in all glory. He pounded even harder as she felt another round of spasms within her walls and it broke down not long after. "Oh god, Eddie." she cried when she felt the mix of pain when he bit her shoulder and the pleasure of him unloading ropes of his hot and thick cum, filling her up. Their juices were seeping out of her cunt but he bucked his hips slowly to push all of it in.
He collapsed on top of her, kissing the spot where his crooked teeth sinked in, then kissed her lips once again softly. Her fingers threaded through his sweaty damp hair while catching their breaths.
"Can't believe you're mine now, Iz." thumb swept across the skin of her cheek delicately. “Whatever comes… whatever changes,” he said, “I’m not going anywhere. You know that, right?”
Izzy looked up at him, eyes warm and shining. “Yeah,” she whispered, resting her forehead against his. “Took us a while but we're here, big guy.”
He smiled while his arms wrapped around her like he never meant to let go. “I think some part of me knew,” he murmured. “Knew it’d be you and me at the finish line."
She snorted. "You manifested it, Brock."
He grinned, still half buried in the curve of her neck. “Damn right I did."
Back in San Francisco, at the Knight Mansion, her parents were up as early as 5AM the next day, waiting for Eddie's update regarding the proposal. They were sitting on the dining table, sipping their coffee, and keeping an alert mind for any notification that would pop up.
“You think she said no?” he muttered, his tone cautious. “I mean, it’s not like them to go silent. Brock would’ve called—wouldn’t he?"
Mrs. Knight shot him a sharp look, though worry flickered in her own eyes. “Don’t start with that. She wouldn't say no. She probably... forgot. Or, I don’t know, got distracted. You know how they are.”
“Distracted for this long? After he proposes? Come on.” He set his mug down a little too hard, rubbing his temples. “I swear, if that boy messed this up—”
Daddy Knight was ready to throw hands for his one and only girl until his wife's phone pinged, cutting him off mid-sentence. Both their heads snapped toward the sound. She grabbed it with trembling hands, opening an imessage:
"SURPRISE! Love, Izzy and Eddie."
When she opened it, her gasp was audible, followed by a disbelieving laugh. “Oh my goodness,” she murmured, shaking her head as a grin spread across her face. She turned the phone to her husband, who squinted through his glasses at the screen.
The first picture was of Izzy and Eddie, standing in front of a Vegas chapel with the most genuine yet crazy smile on their faces. On her finger, clear as day, was a shiny new ring.
“What the...” Her dad’s voice trailed off as he scrolled to the next photo.
This one was even better.
Izzy and Eddie were seated at a plastic table covered in grease-stained wrappers and fries, their faces lit with laughter. Izzy was holding up her fries like a trophy, while Eddie leaned over, kissing her temple, a half-eaten burger in his other hand.
The email included a simple caption: “PS: Burgers were on theme. Don’t hate us for skipping the phone call. Love you both!”
Her dad stared at the images, stunned silent for a moment, before letting out a reluctant chuckle. “Well... that’s certainly one way to do it.”
Her mom laughed, tears welling in her eyes as she swiped through the pictures again. “I told you they’d find a way to make it their own. And this—” she gestured to the screen, her voice broken with affection. “This is so them.”
He shook his head, chuckling under his breath. “Brock better keep her happy, or he’ll have me to answer to.”
“Oh, don’t worry,” her mom said with a knowing smile. “Eddie knows how to do just that and more.”
And somewhere in a little Vegas chapel, surrounded by the glow of neon lights and the lingering scent of burgers, that was exactly what Izzy and Eddie had done. They had been crazy in love, sleep-deprived on their honeymoon, and now, officially and forever, bound together as husband and wife.
Cheers to marrying your best friend.