⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ Not now!
Notes: masterlist \ Part 1
Summary: Your husband is calling you, but a little gremlin keeps declining it.
Tag: @teewritessmth @mitskunicheesecake @rcvcgers @vspxriddles @iloveh4nge
⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ Zayne
Zayne sat in the doctor’s lounge, his phone pressed to his ear as he listened to the call ring. Once. Twice. Then—
His brows furrowed slightly. His hands, steady enough to perform the most delicate heart surgeries, tightened around the phone. He tried again.
Zayne exhaled slowly through his nose, his grip relaxing, Maybe you were busy. You were probably playing with Elias or cooking dinner Mayne in the shower? He wasn’t the type to overthink, but something about the repeated declines made his stomach twist in a way he wasn’t happy about.
Still, he didn’t want to be a nuisance or cause you unnecessary troubles. He wasn’t the type to text “Call me” like other husbands either, He just sat there for a moment, staring at his phone, before getting up and heading back to work.
Back home, Elias sat cross-legged on the couch, his tiny fingers curled around your phone. Every time it vibrated, his eyes narrowed, and without hesitation, he pressed the red button.
“Papa’s calling,” you pointed out, watching from the kitchen as Elias, without a second thought, hung up again.
He didn’t say a word. Just held the phone like a little dragon hoarding treasure.
You wiped your hands on a towel and walked over, sitting beside him. “Sweetheart, why are you declining Papa’s calls?”
Elias finally looked up at you. His expression was unreadable—so much like Zayne’s that it almost made you laugh. After a moment, he mumbled, “He’s busy.”
You blinked. “That’s why you’re hanging up on him?”
Your heart softened. Elias was a quiet child, much like his father, and even at four years old, he had an odd way of thinking. He wasn’t upset. He wasn’t being stubborn. In his little mind, he just thought he was helping.
You smiled and ran a hand through his soft raven colored hair. “Baby, Papa wouldn’t call if he didn’t want to talk. He’s probably on a break and missing us.”
Elias frowned slightly, as if the thought hadn’t occurred to him. He shifted on the couch, staring at the phone. “…Oh.”
You chuckled. “Should we call him back?”
Elias hesitated, then nodded.
Zayne was halfway through reviewing a patient’s chart when his phone vibrated.
His fingers moved instinctively, answering before the first ring finished. “Hello?”
Zayne blinked. It wasn’t you. It was Elias.
The little voice on the other end sounded almost… guilty?
“Elias.” Zayne glanced at the time. “You should be in bed soon.”
A pause. Then, in a quieter voice, “…I hung up your calls.”
Zayne froze. He hadn’t expected that. His first instinct was to ask why, but before he could, Elias continued.
“You were busy. I didn’t wanna bother you.”
Zayne’s grip on the phone tightened. He looked down at his hands, But right now, his own heart ached in a different way.
He wasn’t good with words. Never had been. But there was one thing he knew.
“Elias.” His voice was firm, steady. “You never bother me.”
Zayne exhaled. “Is Mama there?”
You took the phone, laughing softly. “Your son thought he was being considerate.”
Zayne pinched the bridge of his nose. “Of course he did.” His voice was softer than usual. “Tell him he can always pick up my calls.”
“I think he understands now.” You turned to Elias, who was now curled against your side, looking deep in thought. “Say goodnight to Papa.”
Elias hesitated, then muttered, “Goodnight, Papa.”
Zayne swallowed. He wished he was home.
“Goodnight, Elias. I’ll see you in the morning.”
When Zayne finally stepped through the door that night, the house was quiet. You were already in bed, and Elias was asleep in his room.
As he passed Elias’ door, a tiny voice mumbled, “…father?”
Zayne stopped. Slowly, he pushed the door open.
Elias was sitting up in bed, rubbing his sleepy eyes.
Zayne hesitated. He wasn’t good at this. But he walked inside, sitting on the edge of the bed. “Shouldn’t you be asleep?”
Elias didn’t answer. Instead, he reached out with his small hands and grabbed onto Zayne’s sleeve. Not saying anything, just… holding on.
Zayne stared at him before sitting on the edge of his bed.
Then, without a word, he gently rested a hand on his son’s head.
But for them, it was enough.
⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ Xavier
Xavier stood in the middle of a blood-soaked battlefield, his sword still dripping as he exhaled. The fight had been over in minutes—another nest of Wanderers cleared out.
He wasn’t in a hurry to return to headquarters. Instead, he yawned and pulled out his phone, pressing your number.
Xavier stared at the screen, brow twitching slightly. That was odd. He tried again.
The corner of his mouth twitched. He wasn’t a man prone to overreaction, but something about his own family declining his calls irritated him. He sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. Maybe you were busy. Maybe—
One second, he was in a ruined village surrounded by monster corpses. The next, he was in the living room of his own home.
The sight that greeted him made his left eye twitch.
Leo and Livia—his five-year-old twins—were sitting on the couch, your phone between them, giggling.
Livia saw him first. Her eyes widened, and she smacked Leo’s arm. “Abort mission! Papa’s here!”
Leo nearly dropped the phone. “Crap.”
Xavier didn’t speak for a moment. He simply stared, exhausted, disappointed, and vaguely impressed all at once. “…You two.”
The twins immediately shot to their feet, but it was too late. He was already in front of them, towering over their tiny forms. His sword was still strapped to his back, his hunter uniform stained with dried Wanderer blood.
They didn’t look scared. If anything, they looked ready to bolt.
“…Explain.” His voice was even, calm—but that made it worse.
The twins exchanged glances before Livia, ever the mastermind, said, “Mom said you were busy!”
Leo nodded rapidly. “Yeah! You were fighting monsters, right? We didn’t wanna bother you!”
Xavier sighed through his nose, rubbing his temples. “You declined my calls.”
Livia pouted. “Well… yeah.”
He inhaled deeply. He was not good at this. Discipline, affection—none of it came naturally to him. He could gut a monster in seconds, but parenting? That was an entirely different battlefield.
He crossed his arms, giving them a firm look. “That’s not happening again.”
Leo groaned. “But why? You never talk much anyway!”
Xavier blinked. He squatted down to their level, eyes narrowing. “You have a death wish, don’t you?”
Livia elbowed Leo. “Idiot. Now we’re really in trouble.”
Xavier pinched the bridge of his nose, exhausted beyond belief. He should just pick them up and force them into a timeout—he had the strength for it. But before he could, Livia clapped her hands together.
Leo gasped. “Yes, Plan B!”
Xavier frowned. “What the—”
Before he could react, Livia sprinted left while Leo ran right.
Teleportation was an option, but honestly? He was too damn tired. He just sighed and walked toward the kitchen, knowing exactly where they’d end up.
And there you were, standing at the counter, watching the chaos unfold like it was a normal Tuesday.
Without looking at him, you asked, “I take it you figured out why your calls weren’t getting through?”
Xavier leaned against the counter, exhaling. “Your kids are demons.”
You raised a brow. “My kids?”
He gave you a tired look. “They didn’t get it from me.”
Before you could argue, the sound of a crash echoed from upstairs.
A beat of silence. Then Leo’s voice: “I’LL FIX IT, I PROMISE!”
Xavier closed his eyes, counting to ten.
An hour later, the twins sat on the couch, pouting as Xavier stood in front of them. He wasn’t a loud father. He didn’t yell. But his silent disappointment was somehow worse.
“You’re not getting out of this,” he finally said.
Livia crossed her arms. “It was for a good reason.”
“It was for a stupid reason.”
Leo kicked his legs. “But we didn’t wanna distract you.”
Xavier sighed, rubbing his face. “…You’re my kids. You can always talk to me.”
Livia blinked. “Even when you’re fighting monsters?”
He crouched down, staring at them. “Especially then.”
For the first time, the twins looked guilty.
Xavier softened just a fraction. He wasn’t great at showing affection to kids. He wasn’t the type to hug them randomly or constantly hold them. But he reached out, ruffling their hair roughly or cuddle up with his little demons.
“Next time you hang up on me, I’m making you run laps.”
Leo gasped. “That’s child labor!”
Livia clutched her chest. “You’re cruel, Father.”
Xavier stood, sighing. “You’ll live.”
That night, when the twins were asleep, Xavier sat beside you in bed, rubbing his temples.
“I don’t know how to handle them.”
You smiled, playing with his hair. “You’re doing fine.”
He scoffed. “They don’t listen to me at all.”
You chuckled. “They do. They just like pushing your buttons.”
Xavier sighed, leaning into your touch. “…Next time they ignore my calls, I’m teleporting them into a cold lake.”
You laughed, pressing a kiss to his forehead. “Sure you are.”
Xavier didn’t respond. He just yawned, closed his eyes, and finally—finally—slept.
