Bang Bang Birthday
Daddy Mickey x Dada Ian x Little Reader
Summary: It’s your birthday and Ian isn’t happy with the gift Mickey got you. (Based souly off the events at Frannys birthday)
Warnings: Fake guns, a little arguing between Mick and Ian.
It was a big day — the living room was full of streamers, pink balloons, and a pile of gifts stacked on the table. You were practically bouncing in your little socks, wearing your sparkly birthday crown, clutching your favorite stuffed bunny as you waited.
“Dada! Dada! When’s Daddy getting here?” you chirped up at Ian, tugging his sleeve. Ian smiled softly, brushing your hair back.
“Soon, sweetheart. You know Daddy — always late,” he said with a little eye roll, though you didn’t catch the annoyance under his breath.
Moments later, the front door burst open.
“*BAM!* Birthday girl!” Mickey cheered, swaggering in with a grin and a messy gift bag slung over his arm. You squealed in delight.
“Daddy!!” you shouted, dropping your bunny and running to him. Mickey scooped you up effortlessly, spinning you once.
“Miss me, princess?” he smirked, planting a big kiss on your cheek.
Ian watched from the kitchen doorway, arms crossed, eyebrows raised.
Mickey plopped you back down and handed over the crinkled gift bag. You tore it open, gasping when you saw the contents — two plastic, semi-auto toy shotguns.
“Look! Look! I got you the good kind, not the cheap shit!” Mickey grinned proudly. “We can play cops and robbers after cake, huh?”
Your eyes lit up as you pulled the toy guns out, immediately pointing one at Mickey with a little giggle. “*Bang bang, Daddy!*”
Mickey clutched his chest dramatically, stumbling back. “Ah! You got me, kiddo! I’m hit!” He collapsed onto the couch with a loud groan, peeking one eye open to see you giggling uncontrollably.
But Ian was *not* laughing.
“Seriously, Mickey?” Ian snapped, stepping closer. “Guns? Even fake ones? You really thought that was a good idea?”
Mickey sat up, shrugging. “Relax, Gallagher. They’re toys. She’s having fun.”
“She’s a little girl! She doesn’t need to be running around pretending to shoot people,” Ian shot back, voice tight.
You glanced between them, clutching the toy gun, your smile faltering slightly.
Mickey’s face softened when he noticed. “Hey, don’t mind Dada, sweetheart. He’s just grumpy.” He winked at you. “We’ll play later, okay?”
Ian let out a frustrated sigh, kneeling down to your level. “Sweetheart, maybe let’s not play with the guns right now, okay? We can open your other presents, maybe play with your dolls instead?”
Your bottom lip wobbled slightly, unsure who to listen to.
Mickey ruffled your hair gently. “Hey, she’s tough. She can handle a little pretend.”
“I don’t want her thinking it’s just pretend,” Ian muttered, shooting Mickey a pointed look.
Mickey raised his hands in surrender. “Alright, alright. Whatever you say, man.”
You tugged on Ian’s sleeve softly. “Dada… I still get cake, right?” you asked, wide-eyed.
Both men paused, tension breaking just a little, and Ian sighed with a small smile. “Yeah, baby. Of course you get cake.”
Mickey grinned, leaning over to whisper in your ear. “And after cake… you and me, Bonnie and Clyde, yeah?”
You giggled, nodding eagerly. Ian just shook his head, muttering under his breath, “Unbelievable,” but the corner of his mouth twitched upward.
It was your day, after all.
