Duckshots!

Not Worth The Panic! (Scrooge x Reader)

2017 Ducktales (pre cannon)
Scrooge x Reader
Social Anxiety!Reader
Gender Neutral!Reader

⚠️ Trigger Warning: ⚠️
Panic attack
Anxiety

I had been planning this party for weeks: the decorations, the guests, the catering. I never thought I would be attending. I was shocked when he extended the offer.

"Mr. McDuck, I would, hate, to impose." I shuddered at the thought. He failed to notice my hesitation.

"Nonsense!" He pushed. His eyes sparkled at the idea. "You spend so much time planning these events and never get to attend them. You deserve a night to relax."

"Of course, Mr. McDuck," I agreed begrudgingly.

"How about you call me Scrooge tonight, dear?" He smiled, before walking off.

He was always trying to get me to call him by his first name. It was unprofessional, I thought as I attempted to pick out something that might impress him tonight. I picked simple yet elegant and wouldn't stand out amongst the other guests though it did match the decor.

I arrived later than I wanted too and walked into the manor that was half full.

"I'm glad you made it ____!" Della ran up behind me. She was a comforting sight at least.

"Is this a bad time to mention that I have like severe social anxiety?" I whispered to her.

She laughed at me. We had known each other for years and I never had let her, or anyone else, know that. Usually it didn't interfere with my work. Or life.

"You're funny!" She pushed me to a group of three pigs. She whispered, "These are snobs from the Thanksgiving party. Distracted them, will ya."

I recognized them as the representatives from Finchland. Three dabber dressed men, stuffing their faces full of d'oeuvres. Della had gotten in big trouble last Thanksgiving for pouring dressing on them after they said more than a few demeaning comments in her presence. I was surprised when I saw them on the guest list again. Apparently she hadn't told Scrooge because knowing him he would've cut all ties with the country. She also wouldn't have gotten in trouble, which she was technically still in.

"Hello, are you enjoying the party?" I asked.

I wasn't supposed to be working, but I didn't know how to engage outside of that. The three pigs, that could have been triplets, stared at me for a second before they seemed to deem me worthy of talking too.

"Quite nice." There was a mocking sneer in that comment.

"Yes, more so than the last one," the second one sniffed.

"I wished he would put that ratchet young girl in a boarding school," added the third.

"Isn't she too old for such things? I think she needs psychiatric help," the first one laughed. Then turned to me, "What do you think?"

"She has a temper but she's alright," I mumbled, not wanting to badmouth her.

"More like she's downright wicked." They laughed.

I swallowed. Scrooge must not know how bad these pigs were dragging Della's name through the mud. I was vaguely aware of the music in the background. I jumped when a hand touched my shoulder.

"There you are, dear." I locked eyes with the man of the hour and I noticed that the room was full of people. "Are you alright?"

"I'm fine. Just asking if these gentlemen where enjoying the party." I smiled and focused on him to keep myself from panicking at the sudden awareness of so many people.