Pairings: Platonic!Lads men x Their kid
Summary: Your husband is calling your phone, but a little gremlin keeps declining it.
Requested by: @mitskunicheesecake
Sylus sat in his office, fingers drumming against the desk as he stared at his phone. His calls kept going to voicemail. No, not voicemail—his calls were being declined.
He narrowed his eyes, dialing again.
"Come on, sweetheart, pick up," he muttered under his breath.
The phone rang once. Twice. Then—
Sylus exhaled sharply through his nose, irritation prickling beneath his skin. He had told you to keep your phone close. You were out running errands, and he didn’t like when he couldn’t reach you. With the kind of business he ran, being unreachable meant something could be wrong.
This time, instead of calling again, he switched to texting.
Sylus: Sweetheart, answer your phone.
A muscle in his jaw twitched. He was about to send luke and kieran. Then, A message.
His fingers immediately moved to type, but before he could, another message came through.
His eyes narrowed. That didn’t sound like you. Not exactly. What happened to you? Did E.V.E.R get their hands on you?
His phone rang. A video call.
He answered immediately, expecting to see your face. Instead, a small figure appeared on the screen, curled up on your side of the bed, holding your phone in tiny hands. Their round face scrunched up in annoyance.
"Daddy," Elena huffed. "Stop calling Mommy."
Sylus let out a slow breath, his irritation flickering into something amused. "Is that why my calls are being declined?"
Elena nodded, her little fingers tapping at the screen. "You’re too loud. Mommy’s busy. She said she’ll be home soon."
Sylus leaned back in his chair, rubbing a hand down his face. "You’re hanging up on me, aren’t you?"
"Uh-huh," she said sweetly. "Bye-bye, Daddy. I wanna watch yutuube"
Sylus stared at his phone for a long moment, his amusement fading into something else. His little girl had declined him—multiple times. And worse, she hadn’t even looked guilty about it.
With a sigh, he pushed back his chair and stood. Work could wait.
When Sylus stepped into the house, it was quiet.
He slipped off his jacket, draping it over the couch before making his way to the bedroom. The door was slightly open, and when he pushed it wider, he found his daughter still curled up in bed, your phone clutched in her small hands.
She looked up, her big red eyes widening when she saw him.
"Princess," Sylus said, voice slow, deliberate. He crossed the room and sat on the edge of the bed, watching as she quickly tucked the phone under the pillow. "I see you’ve been busy."
She blinked, tilting her head. "Mommy is busy," she corrected.
"Is that so?" He reached forward and grabbed her, pulling her onto his lap despite her squeal of protest. "Now, tell me, Princess. What should I do with a little girl who ignores her father?"
"Nothing?" His grip tightened slightly, just enough to make her giggle again. "Are you sure about that?"
Elena kicked her legs, laughter bubbling up. "Okay! Okay! I won’t do it again!"
Sylus smirked before giving her forehead a kiss. "That’s what I thought."
Just then, the sound of the front door opening made them both pause.
"Mommy’s home!" his daughter gasped, suddenly wiggling out of his grip. She scrambled off the bed and ran toward the door.
"Kids and their videos these days" Sylus let out an amused huff before going to greet you at the door.
Caleb sat in his office, his uniform jacket draped over the back of his chair, sleeves rolled up as he stared at his phone. His brows furrowed as he hit redial.
Caleb leaned back in his chair, exhaling through his nose. He knew you were out shopping, the messages were lighting up his phone
"thank you for your purchase at xxx store"
but you had given Noah the phone in case he needed anything, the shops were noisy and you couldn't hear the ringing
So why the hell was his own wife declining his calls, did something happen to you?
He dialed again. This time, instead of a decline, the call went through—but no one spoke. He could hear faint background noise, you were definitely outside.
"Y/n?" Caleb said, voice firm.
A beat of silence. Then, a small huff.
"Daddy, stop calling," Noah finally said.
Caleb blinked. "Excuse me?"
"You’re calling too much," Noah complained. "Mommy said we’d call you if we needed something."
Caleb pinched the bridge of his nose. "And what if I need something, huh?"
Another pause. Then Noah sighed dramatically. "What do you need, Daddy?"
Caleb exhaled slowly, rubbing a hand over his face. "Put Mommy on the phone."
"Mommy’s busy," Noah said in a tone that was far too smug for a four-year-old. "She’s looking at boring grown-up stuff. And you’re distracting us."
Caleb clenched his jaw. "I am your father, Noah."
"Yeah, I know," Noah said casually. "But Mommy said ugh, Caleb is calling again and told me to ignore it."
Caleb’s eye twitched. "She said that?"
A long pause. Then, a quiet, "Maybe."
Caleb let out a slow breath. "Noah."
Noah giggled, and before Caleb could say another word, the call ended, Caleb stared at the blank screen.
As soon as he stepped inside, he heard Noah’s laughter coming from the living room. He walked in to find him sprawled on the couch with a snack in hand, looking far too comfortable.
Noah turned his head, eyes widening when he saw Caleb. He immediately sat up, gripping the phone he had confiscated like it was a lifeline.
"Son," Caleb said, crossing his arms over his chest, his gaze held no mercy. "We need to talk."
Noah scrambled off the couch. "Uh—Mommy! Daddy’s home!"
Caleb caught him by the back of his shirt before he could escape. "Nice try, bud. You and I have unfinished business."
Noah wriggled in Caleb’s grip, his small hands flailing. “I didn’t do anything!”
Caleb arched a brow. “Didn’t do anything? Didn’t do anything?” His voice was calm, but there was a dangerous edge to it. “Son, you declined my calls like I was some kind of scam number.”
Noah squirmed harder. “You called too much!”
Caleb exhaled through his nose. “I called twice.”
Caleb stared at him, unimpressed. “You’re gonna stand here and tell me you had zero problem ignoring your father?”
Noah hesitated. “Uhh…” His grip on the phone tightened. “I just—Mommy was busy! And you always talk forever!”
Caleb scoffed. “Forever? I would’ve been on for two minutes. That’s not forever.”
Noah puffed his cheeks. “It is when I was watching cartoons.”
Caleb took a deep breath, rubbing a hand down his face. “I can’t believe this. My own son, my own blood, betraying me like this.”
Noah huffed. “I had to, Daddy.”
Caleb let out a dry chuckle, crouching so he was at Noah’s level. “Had to? Had to hang up on me? Where did you learn that, huh? You got someone else teaching you bad habits? That a bad influence I need to deal with?”
Noah shifted guiltily. “Nooo…”
Caleb narrowed his eyes. “Are you lying to me again, Noah?”
“Unbelievable,” Caleb muttered, shaking his head. He pointed at the phone clutched in Noah’s hands. “Hand it over, soldier.”
Noah gasped, gripping it tighter. “No!”
“I outrank you, kid,” Caleb warned, voice low. “Don’t make me use my colonel voice.”
Noah’s lips wobbled. “But—but—”
With a dramatic whimper, Noah finally surrendered the phone. Caleb took it and stuffed it in his pocket. “Now, what do we say?”
Noah shifted on his feet. “...Sorry?”
Caleb nodded. “That’s right. And?”
Noah sighed heavily, like Caleb was really putting him through it. “I won’t hang up on you again.”
Caleb smirked. “Good. Now, what should your punishment be?”
Noah gasped. “Punishment?! Daddy, no! It was a mistake!”
Caleb tapped his chin. “Hmm… I could make you do laps in the backyard. Maybe push-ups. Or—" his eyes gleamed—"no dessert for a week.”
Noah gasped again, even more dramatically. “Mommy!” he wailed, turning toward the kitchen. “Daddy’s being a tyrant!”
Before Caleb could grab him again, Noah sprinted off, his little legs carrying him as fast as they could.
A second later, you poked your head out of the bedroom, blinking. “What’s happening?”
Caleb sighed, standing up. “Your son is staging a rebellion.”
Noah clung to your leg. “Mommy, Daddy’s bullying me!”
You crossed your arms, raising an eyebrow at Caleb. “Are you bullying our son?”
Caleb smirked. “Teaching him discipline.”
Noah tugged your sleeve. “Mommy, I was so good today.”
Caleb barked a laugh. “Yeah? Good at declining my calls.”
You sighed, shaking your head. “Caleb, you’re an adult. You shouldn’t be getting into power struggles with a four-year-old.”
Caleb scoffed. “He started it.”
Noah giggled from behind your leg.
You groaned, rubbing your temple. “You two are exhausting.”
Caleb smirked, stepping closer to wrap an arm around your waist. “And yet, you love us.”
Noah nodded rapidly. “Uh-huh! Right, Mommy?”
You sighed, looking between them. “Unfortunately.”
Caleb chuckled, pressing a quick kiss to your temple before ruffling Noah’s hair. “You’re lucky your mom’s here to protect you, kid.”
Noah grinned up at him. “I know!”
Caleb shook his head, amused. “Unbelievable.”
You had been invited to an exclusive art exhibition downtown—one that featured some of Rafayel’s earlier works. Since he despised public events and would rather gouge his own eyes out than attend, and Thomas would respectfully gouge out rafayel's eyes if he did not attend, you went in his place, both to support him and to keep up appearances.
Seraphina, your four-year-old daughter, had come along for the car ride but quickly grew bored when you arrived. The moment she saw the endless rows of paintings and the adults murmuring about “artistic depth” and “symbolic brush strokes,” she looked up at you, unimpressed.
“Mommy, this is so boring.”
You sighed, crouching down to smooth out her dress. “I know, sweetheart, but it won’t take long. Daddy worked hard on these paintings, and I have to talk to some of the nice people here, okay?”
Seraphina pouted. “But I don’t care about paintings. I wanna watch cartoons.”
You pulled out your phone and handed it to her. “Here. You can call Daddy if you need anything, alright?”
Her eyes lit up as she clutched the phone. “Okay!”
You smiled, kissing her forehead as you left her at the staff room and locked the door with your keycard so no one could enter other than Thomas, after everything was secure you turned toward the exhibition hall.
Back home, Rafayel was in his studio, adding the final details to a massive canvas when his phone vibrated. He wiped the paint off his hands and glanced at the screen.
A small smile tugged at his lips as he answered. “Sweetheart, are you finished already?”
Rafayel blinked, staring at his phone.
He lowered the device, then brought it back up, frowning. Had the signal dropped?
Before he could think too much about it, the phone vibrated again.
He answered immediately. “Sweetheart?”
Rafayel stared at the phone in disbelief.
What the hell is going on?
This time, he answered with narrowed eyes. “If you hang up on me again—”
Rafayel exhaled through his nose. “Seraphina.”
His daughter hummed in acknowledgment.
“Why are you calling me just to hang up?” he asked, his voice carefully restrained. “Is everything alright?”
“I didn’t hang up,” she said cheerfully. “I was just checking.”
Rafayel pinched the bridge of his nose. “Seraphina—”
Rafayel’s frustration wavered, replaced with something softer.
He leaned against his desk, rubbing a hand down his face. “I miss you too, little fish.”
Rafayel sighed, he could already imagine thomas chasing him down the exhibition “I can’t. Mommy is working in my place.”
“But I’m not. Please daddy” She whined.
“Mommy will bring you home soon.”
Seraphina made a displeased noise. “That’s too long.”
There was a pause. Then, her voice turned thoughtful. “Daddy?”
“You’re not painting without me, are you?”
Rafayel glanced at his half-finished canvas. With a pause he answered. “Of course not.”
Seraphina gasped. “You are!”
“I didn’t say that.” “You didn’t deny it!”
Rafayel chuckled. “You caught me.”
Seraphina huffed. “That’s not fair. You promised we’d paint together!”
“And we will,” he assured her. “I’ll wait for you.”
“Okay. But no touching the pink paint.”
“No pink,” Rafayel agreed solemnly.
Seraphina hummed. “Alright. You’re forgiven.”
There was a brief silence before he heard her yawn.
He smiled knowingly. “Close your eyes, little fish.”
Seraphina whined. “But I wanna talk to you.”
“I’ll still be here when you wake up.”
A beat of silence. Then, a soft rustling as Seraphina got comfortable.
Rafayel listened to her breathing slow, his heart aching with warmth.
He didn’t hang up. Not yet.
Instead, he stayed on the line, listening to the quiet rise and fall of his daughter’s breath.
Minutes passed before he finally spoke.
“I’ll come get you soon,” he whispered.
Then, finally, he ended the call.
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