#Gordon Malloy | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

wicca-wicca-whack · 6 months

Text

The Maid of Honor and the Best Man

Modern!Au Gordon Malloy x Reader

Word count: 3035

//I'm back on my bs

You could feel your irritation with your best friend bubbling the longer she spoke.

“I don't know, I don't really need anything elaborate!”

“Kel, this is your bachelorette party! After that you're spewing out vows and tying your life to this dude,” you gesture haphazardly towards Ed, who just chuckles.

“I mean I'd rather just do something easy. You know, we were talking about doing a joint party,” she offers.

“A joint party!” You try really hard to sound excited, but it sounds kind of lame, at least to you.

“I mean, I don't really feel like I need any of those things you would even do separate parties for, like strippers or anything, and it'll be way cheaper for you and Gordon if you're just pooling resources.” She reaches her hand out for your phone, and knowing her, you can easily assume she wants to give you his number.

You bite your tongue, handing your phone over. “Yeah, for sure.”

“I'm sure you guys will get along great.”

You know from experience she's wrong, but you just smile and nod.

You and the best man have butt heads at every event, and he's made it pretty clear he doesn't like Kelly much, and by extension you. After all, she's marrying his best friend and you're, apparently, a stick in the mud, partially because you won't talk trash about her. You haven’t even seen him in over a month, which makes you question his dedication to helping out with this wedding.

Hours go by before you even open your phone to text the ginger. You settle for something simple.

It's the MOH. Let me know when you're ready to talk about the joint party.

Shockingly, you've only just set your phone down when he texts back.

Whz ths nd whtz a MOH?

He must be drunk, you figure, to be texting like that.

The maid of honor?

O. U.

You decide not to respond, between the drunk texting and the response to him knowing it's you on the other end, settling down to watch your trash TV.

It’s maybe four hours later your phone rings, and you glance at the caller ID of Dickhead before picking up.

“We didn’t need to, like, have a conversation about like, tonight,” you try, the only thing coming from the receiver being the sound of cars and and the wind.

“Nah, I wasn’t doing anything. Can we just make it, like, not lame?” You can hear Gordon sigh, and the scuff of his shoes as he walks.

“What do you mean not lame?” You try not to sound amused.

“I mean, a joint party is already super lame. No strippers, nothing, like, fun.”

“You don’t know how to have fun without strippers?”

“I mean I do,” he insists quickly, “but, like, when I imagined throwing my best friend's bachelor party…”

“Well, they decided they wanted a joint party.” You pull a notepad on your table close. “So, their wedding colors are blues and greens, I’m thinking for the decor we should stick to that.”

You can hear him sigh again.

“What?”

“They’re just, like, such, uh… kinda lame colors together.”

You bite your tongue for a moment, annoyed. “Let’s just do this another time, it's late.”

“No! No,” you can hear him jostling something around. “Uh, why don’t we meet up?”

Your eyes drift to your clock. “It’s two am.”

You hear muffled cursing. “Right, yeah. Uh, night.” The receiver clicks before you can respond, and you can’t help but roll your eyes. If he’s lost his grip on time, this was gonna be a whole other kind of difficult.

When you wake up the next morning, you have two missed calls from Kelly. You can't help but sigh, looking at the time to see it's barely even 10 AM.

You roll from your bed, working your way through your morning ritual before returning her call.

“Kels, you basically blew my phone up,” you half-whine.

“Sorry! Sorry, I didn't realize how early it was the first time I called.” You can hear her rustling around.

“What on earth are you doing?”

“Ed and I are making party favors.” The audio changes, and you assume she must've put you on speaker.

“Hey. Morning,” Ed's voice rings through, and you sigh.

“Morning. Did you guys need help?”

“Could use a hand. Gordon's coming too.”

You almost groan. Or maybe you do, because Ed laughs.

“I'll see you in an hour!” Kelly calls cheerfully.

“Yeah, okay. In an hour,” you agree, calling your goodbyes and moving to get ready.

You get there more like an hour and a half later, and Kelly looks like she might be upset, until you press a fresh coffee into her hand and bring one to her fiance, and she seems to calm down.

“Sorry, sorry! I come bearing caffeine,” you soothe, moving to plop next to Gordon, who gives you a weird look. “What are you making?”

She motions to the table, grinning. “Snack and drink boxes.”

“...What?” You can’t help but give her a look.

“Little boxes of snacks and, like, shooters and edible glitter,” Ed supplies, and Kelly claps her hands, clearly excited.

“I thought it was a good idea!”

“It is, babe,” Ed assures, and Gordon groans loudly.

“Do you have to be all gross in front of other people?” He complains.

“Dude-”

“It's a word,” you interrupt Ed, turning to look at the scruffy ginger man. “He said the word babe.”

“Yeah, and it was gross, obviously,” he scoffs, reaching to grab one of the little decorative boxes Kelly put out.

“What are you, twelve? Babe is one of the tamest things he could call her right now.”

“How? Any of those weird PDA names is gross to use in front of your friends.”

You give Kelly an exasperated look, but both she and Ed just look on, amused. “Please be so fucking for real right now, man.”

“I’m not in this argument,” she tries.

“You’re kind of in it,” you shoot back.

“Let’s just get back to these favors,” Ed offers, taking a box, “they’re super easy but we have a ton to make.”

You’re annoyed, but you move to get to work anyway, taking a long drink of your coffee.

A couple of hours go by in relative silence, though Gordon can’t resist shooting jabs and jokes around, before Kelly and Ed step away to take a wedding call, and you turn to Gordon.

“So for their party, I was just thinking the wedding party all meet at mine, and I’ll decorate, and then we can do, like, a bar crawl. Something easy but still fun.”

He stares at you for a long time. “...What?”

“Dude. Their joint bachelor/bachelorette party. Obviously.”

“Oh. Right. Sounds cool.” A beat of silence. “We should make one of those stops a strip clu-”

You whack him in the arm, and he yelps. “No.”

“I thought we were planning this together!”

“We are. Make a list of bars. I will vet them.”

He opens his mouth to protest, but the couple returns. “Did I hear Gordon yell?” Ed looks between you, both suspicious and amused.

“No,” you answer casually, tying a ribbon over the last snack box. “And we’re done! I need to head out, but text me that list,” you remind Gordon, grabbing your purse and standing. “Kels, I love you, I will see you Friday for your bachelorette. Two days. And in three you will be hitched. Text me or call me if you need me.”

You don’t give her a chance to answer before you’re out the front door.

When Gordon sends you a list of bars that night, you skim the list before calling him.

“Yello?”

“Gordon, half of those are strip clubs. Not bars. Good strip clubs don't even serve alcohol!”

“How do you know that?”

“Gordon.” You don’t dignify that with an answer. “Be real. There are so many bars down this strip, why those? Hell, I will pay for a limo or something to take us further from this stip you started on.”

“When I pictured throwing Ed’s bachelor-”

“You pictured strippers, I get it. This is what they wanna do. Save the strippers for your wedding.”

He snorts, but he’s quiet for a minute. “Fine. I’ll fix it.”

“Are you pouting?”

“Do I sound like I’m pouting?”

“Yes, you do.”

“Are you gonna need help getting your place set up?” You can hear the clink of a glass and someone shouting something in the background.

“I can handle it,” you sigh, confused at the rapid subject change.

“I’m offering.” His voice is almost soft, at least compared to the rest of the conversation. “I can come over and help you put up all that ugly blue and green crap. That’s what you’re doing, right?”

You can’t help but snort a little. “Yeah, I am. But you can show up with everyone else an-”

“I’ll be there at six.” He hangs up before you can even protest more, and you can’t help giving your phone a weird look.

In the morning, to your shock, you do wake up to a new list of bars, ones that are actually all bars, and you almost smile.

When Friday comes around, you feel like you’re insanely busy, between work and making sure you have everything, and when you open your door to see Gordon, promptly at six, you pause, staring at him in shock.

“You’re here.”

“Uh, yeah. I said I’d be.” He gives you a confused look.

“At six.”

“That’s what I told you.”

“You’re not late.”

“I’m not always late.”

“You’ve been late to, like, every event since the wedding planning started.”

He huffs, carefully pushing past you to grab some streamers, looking up at your ceiling. “Are we just going to town or what?”

It pivots from there, Gordon seemingly content to decorate however you instruct, though more than once he argues when you correct him, its… almost fun. Almost.

You’re done just in time for the rest of the wedding party to start showing up, and then, finally, the couple of the night, accompanied by shouting and whooping as you and Gordon pour a round of shots for the large party as a sort of pre-game.

You give each of them an obnoxious crown and sash, and both Kelly and Ed laugh as they’re ushered back down towards the limo you had, in fact, ended up renting for the party, the whole of you piling into the seats, a couple of the others squishing you into Gordon.

“Sorry,” he mumbles, leaning towards you a little.

“It’s cool,” you assure softly, jostling a bit as the ride starts. There’s a lot of shouting, and you think someone else is trying to pour more shots in the bumpy ride, but thankfully, the first bar is a quick drive, and before anyone can crack a bottle open, Kelly is ushering people out with Ed’s help, and into the western-themed bar.

Looking left to right, you can spot a line dance happening on the floor and at least eight cowboy hats.

“Yeah, this is a good one to start a night,” Gordon sighs, moving towards the bar and taking orders from people. The bartender looks familiar with Gordon as he orders the drinks, both laughing it up, and you can’t help but soften a little.

You turn your eyes from him as quickly as you can when Kels elbow connects with your arm. “Ow! What?”

“You’re staring.”

“I wasn’t staring.”

“You were damn near making eyes,” Ed adds in.

“No one asked you.”

“Our opinion is joint now,” Kelly tries, giving a smile to a stranger handing her a drink and congratulating them.

“I didn’t ask you either.”

“Technically, you did.”

You’re cut off by a cold glass hitting your hand, and you carefully take it from Gordon, who just looks between the three of you before setting another drink down and heading to collect more, giving you all a weird look.

You groan, moving to knock your drink back as Kelly laughs. “It isn’t like that.”

“Right, yeah. For sure.”

You huff, annoyed. Sure, Gordon was cute. And while prepping for this party, he’d even been… nice. But you had no intention of throwing yourself all over a guy who never really seemed interested in you.

But God help you, part of you wants to.

You quickly learn, after another drink or two, it's incredibly hard to keep such a large party on track. When you finally round everyone into the limo, you were supposed to head to the next bar an hour ago, and everyone is considerably more trashed than you expected them to be. Someone calls for shots, and your protests go unheard as a bottle gets opened and shots get passed around. You’re once again smushed into Gordon’s side, and everything is fine until something warm splashes your chest.

“Damnit!”

“Shit! I’m sorry,” Gordon calls quickly, sounding a little surprised, and one of his hands comes down like he’s going to wipe the vodka from you before his senses catch up, and he pulls his hand back.

“It's fine,” you huff, glad for the dim lighting and green shirt.

You can sort of see him shuffling for something, and you hear a muffled ‘aha!’ as he presses a cloth to your chest.

It takes him all of two seconds to snatch his hand away, and, thankfully, no one seems to have seen the interaction.

You let out an awkward chuckle, dabbing at the wet spot with the cloth. “Thanks… I, uh… think I’ll head home maybe. Do you think you can handle them?”

“Y-yeah, for sure,” he agrees, nodding, and you swear he’s never looked quite so nervous. “Honestly, they’re probably not gonna make it past this bar,” he agrees as the limo stops and the doors open.

You nod, moving to hug your friend goodbye with a hurried explanation. She gives you a pout, but presses taxi money into your hand, despite your protesting, and you can’t get Ed to take it from you either.

The minute you make it home, you make sure your alarm is set, and you crash.

Six A.M. comes way too quickly, but you’re up, and heading to pick up Kelly, coffee in hand. Somehow, she’s full of energy when she gets into your passenger seat, taking her drink from you. You start the trek to the venue, listening to her ramble about the night before.

Thankfully, the actual getting-ready part of the wedding, and the wedding itself, goes pretty smoothly. You, for one, are relieved, not wanting to deal with disasters. You can’t help but tear up, watching your best friend pledge her life away to a man, but you almost laugh when she ushers people towards the reception while the wedding party gets ready for pictures.

For most of them, you’re opposite Gordon, who hasn’t made eye contact with you once, including your walk down the aisle. You don’t even really hear him speak until you’re taking a picture where Kelly wants everyone paired up like when they walked down the aisle.

His hand hovers over your waist as he mumbles, “I’m sorry. Again. For last night.”

You wait for the photographer to take the picture. “It’s fine, really. Water under the bridge. It’s not like alcohol’s never been spilled on me.”

“I just don’t want you to think I was, like, using it to cop a feel or something.”

“What? No, of course not.”

“Not that you aren’t, like, pretty, but that would be, like-”

“-Really weird of you, yeah.” You hesitate, bringing your hand to pat his arm. “It’s cool.”

“Right, yeah. Cool.”

You’re being ushered towards the reception before either of you can break the tension, and you’re at opposite sides of the table once everyone’s sat, and the interaction barely crosses your mind until after the first few dances, when Kelly is insisting the bridal party go dance, and as everyone more or less pairs up with the person they walked with, you look at Gordon, who looks halfway terrified.

“Well? Come on,” you motion him towards the floor, holding a hand out.

One, two, three seconds pass before he takes your hand, heading towards the floor for an awkward sort of slow dance.

“I don’t dance,” he admits awkwardly.

“Yeah, I can tell.” You’re content to sway, though, his hands barely resting on your waist, yours resting on his shoulders.

“You, uh, look nice,” he offers.

“With how much Kel paid to get our hair and makeup done, I hope so,” you snort.

“You, uh, look nice the rest of the time too.”

You look at him slowly, a little amused and pretty confused. “Thanks?”

“I mean,” you can’t tell if he’s blushing or his face is always that red, “you’re pretty. A pretty person.”

You’re pretty sure he’s blushing.

“You’re not too bad yourself,” you offer.

“You, uh, seem like a lot of fun.”

“So do you. When you’re not being an ass,” you nudge him gently, but he chuckles.

“It’s kind of my default. Total douche.” He waves one of his hands before he returns it to your waist, more pressure than before, and looks over your shoulder, making a face.

You turn just in time to see Kelly pushing Ed’s thumb down, and you turn back to Gordon, who looks embarrassed. “What’s that about?”

“Did you wanna, I don’t know, maybe… go out sometime?” He braces, like he’s waiting anxiously for your answer, and you can even feel his shoulders tense.

“That sounds like fun.”

There’s one, two, three seconds of silence before his eyes return to yours. “Really?”

“Really.”

“Cool,” he sighs, relieved, a muffled sort of ‘oomph’ coming from him as you lean up to press a soft kiss to his lips.

“We can count this as a first date,” you joke, and he chuckles a little, pulling you closer.

“Yeah, sure. Fits for me. Total douche thing to do, having your first date at your best friend's wedding.”

You chuckle, reaching to punch at his arm.

Maybe he wasn’t as bad as he pretended to be.

#wiccawrites #gordon malloy x reader #gordon x reader #modern au #kelly grayson #ed mercer #gordon malloy #ed mercer x kelly grayson #weddings #mentions of strippers

10 notes · View notes