CALL MY NAME
⚠️ Mature Content: Soft sexual touching / 🔞 18+ ONLY — Minor DNI
AN: This was our first “smut but no smut” attempt, and me and my moots @blackgurlnhermoods @zaziesource popcorn-wrote it. Shoutout to the girlies in @blkfichub’s comments who tried to guide us through writing smut because we struggled bad. We still didn’t want to do too much, but we tried. Enjoy the chaos.
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Dick Halloran was exhausted down to the bone.
The kind of tired that didn’t just settle in the muscles but climbed into your ribs, lodged behind your heartbeat, sat heavy behind your eyes. Work had been long, the hours cruel, and every single person he’d passed on the street had been loud inside his head. That was the cost of the Shine sometimes you controlled it, sometimes it controlled you.
But stepping through the apartment door and seeing her, all that noise melted away.
Evangeline lay curled on the couch in the dim light of their living room, her cheek pressed into the throw pillow. One hand rested over her belly, round and tender, holding their baby like she was keeping the whole world safe underneath that palm. She must’ve meant to wait up for him, but sleep won.
Dick’s chest tightened with something soft, heavy, protective.
He quietly placed his keys down, toes nudging off his shoes. Then he approached and crouched beside her, gently brushing the back of his fingers along her arm.
“Eva,” he murmured.
Nothing but a tiny shift, a sleepy huff, her curls brushing across her cheek. She looked so peaceful it almost hurt to wake her.
So he didn’t.
Instead, he slid one arm beneath her legs and one behind her back, lifting her gently slow, slow, careful not to startle her. Pregnancy made her lighter in some ways, heavier in others. She melted instinctively against his chest, face nuzzling into the warm skin of his collarbone.
He carried her to their bedroom and laid her on the bed. She curled onto her side instinctively, her hand moving back to her bump as if she were checking to make sure the baby was still there.
Dick pressed a kiss to her forehead, pulled a blanket over her, and let her drift deeper.
A shower helped peel the day off him. Steam fogged the mirror, hot water beating across his back, loosening every knot the world put there. But when he stepped out toweling off, breathing easier he heard it.
Her voice.
Soft. Barely formed. Half-asleep.
“…Dick…”
He froze.
Another breath. A faint whisper.
“Dick… baby…”
He didn’t hesitate.
He walked to the bed but she was still asleep, brows drawn the slightest bit, her lips parted like she was trying to call out but couldn’t quite reach him.
She wasn’t awake.
She was pulling him.
With the Shine.
“All right, sweetheart,” he murmured, lying down beside her and placing his hand gently over the curve of her belly. “If you’re callin’… I’m comin’.”
He let his eyes close, let the hum in his chest open, let the world blur—
And then he stepped into her dream.
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He landed in color.
A bright, lush, lived-in sort of color the bedroom wasn’t theirs, not exactly, but some dream version of it. The walls were painted in deep blues and honeyed ambers. The air was hazy with warmth. And on the far side of the room, a record player spun softly.
Sam Cooke.
Bring It On Home To Me.
And in the middle of it all…
Evangeline.
She stood in front of a vanity mirror, wrapped in a short silk nightgown the color of rosewater. Her hair was in soft rollers, giving her a halo of glamorous, old Hollywood curls. A cigarette glowed between her fingers, the smoke lazily curling upward.
She was swaying her hips gently, humming to the music, admiring herself in the mirror.
Dick exhaled, because there she was every inch of her glowing, alive, dreamy, perfect.
In the mirror, her eyes suddenly lifted.
They found him instantly.
She turned slowly, lips curling into a teasing smile. One hand rested on her hip. The other tapped out ash into a glass dish.
“ Well well”, she drawled accent slow and sweet.
“ What you doin’ here, Dick Halloran?!”
He shoved his hands into his pockets, leaning back in the corner chair like he’d been there all along.
“ You were callin me,” he said simply. “ You know how it is, Eva. You call my name, I show up every time”.
Her hips swayed as she walked toward him, each step pulling his gaze along with her. Dick watched her like he couldn’t help himself, his teeth catching his bottom lip as the space between them slowly disappeared.
Dick’s hand lifted, the back of his knuckles brushing her thigh. He slid his palm up slowly slow enough to make her breathe in a sharp little gasp until he rested it against the curve of her nightgown. His thumb grazed the soft fabric, then pressed just a bit firmer as he dragged his hand down the length of it.
She didn’t give him time to think. She just swung one knee over his thigh, then the other, easing herself into his lap with practiced familiarity. His hands went straight to her waist, fingers spreading as though he needed to anchor himself.
“I’m glad you did,” she whispered, leaning in.
Her lips brushed his first soft, sweet, tasting of her favorite candy butterscotch and a hint of cigarette . Dick let out a low sound against her mouth, his hands sliding down from her waist to the curve of her hips. Then lower. He cupped her behind with both hands, pulling her just a little closer, slow and deliberate.
Dicks hands slid back up back up to her sides, following the shape of her body like he had traced it a thousand times. And then just for a second, his touch slowed, almost thoughtful . The familiar swell he always took such care with wasn’t there.
He didn’t pull back. Didn’t stop kissing her.
He just murmured it against her skin, low and almost smiling:
“Mm… you ain’t carryin’ tonight.”
Evangeline breathed out softly, lips brushing his jaw as she kept kissing him, her fingers curling at the back of his neck.
“Not in here,” she whispered. “Not right now.”
Dick’s eyes flicked up to hers, warm and wanting, his hands still stroking her waist.
She kissed the corner of his mouth.
“I love carryin’ your baby,” she said quietly, brushing her nose against his. “But since the bump grew, you barely touch me anymore.”
His breath hitched, just barely
And this is my dream,” she murmured, settling deeper onto his lap. “So I get to be what I want. And tonight?”
Her lips brushed his again, soft as a secret.
“I don’t wanna be pregnant. And I don’t want you treatin’ me like I’m gonna break.”
He hiked her night gown higher, keeping his eyes on hers, dark and heavy with desire.
“This what you wanted, baby?” he murmured, voice thick and velvety, fingers sliding slowly up her thigh, brushing the soft skin beneath the nightgown.
Evangeline tilted her head back slightly, lips parting, and whispered softly—
“ Not there…. here.”
She guided his hand with a gentle, deliberate motion, pressing it exactly where she wanted him most between her legs. Her body shifted instinctively, rocking lightly against his fingers, letting him feel the way she moved, how much she wanted him.
Dick’s lips grazed the curve of her neck, half-lidded, watching her every twitch and shiver. “God, baby… you so wet for me,” he murmured, voice husky, and smooth, low enough that only she could hear the need in it. “All for me.”
His lips returned to hers, soft at first, brushing along hers in a way that made warmth coil through her chest. Then he pressed closer, mouth opening against hers with a hunger that was impossible to resist, exploring every inch of her lips. She parted willingly, letting him in, letting him take the lead as her body instinctively leaned into his.
Her hands wrapped around his broad shoulders, pressing into him, feeling the strong steady weight beneath her palms as she pulled him closer. Each shift of her body, each press and tilt, guided their movements naturally, matching the slow, urgent rhythm of his mouth on hers.
Their tongues met, sliding against each other in a soft, searching dance, exploring, tasting, a fluid exchange of heat and desire. Every glide, every brush carried a warmth that radiated through her, making her chest press into his, thighs tightening in response to the closeness between them.
Her hands tightened on his shoulders, nails grazing the fabric of his shirt as she rocked more insistently, leaning into him, letting herself be completely carried by the sensation. Low hums and soft gasps escaped her lips, a language of pleasure without words.
Dick whispered her name into her mouth, deep and rough, voice thick with warmth and need. “Mm… that’s it, baby… just like that,” he murmured, his fingers never slowing, keeping pace with her every motion.
A soft, breathy whimper escaped her lips. “I’m close…” she murmured, voice trembling, barely audible against his mouth. Her eyes rolled back slightly, lashes fluttering, letting him see the depth of the sensation coursing through her.
A shiver ran through her body, heat pooling low in her belly, and just as she was about to let go—
Evangeline gasped, eyes flying open.
Morning sunlight pooled across the sheets. The record player was still. Her nightgown was different. Her body was warm with the after echo of pleasure.
Across the room, Dick sat in the armchair with the morning paper folded neatly in his hands. He looked maddeningly calm. A picture of innocence.
He didn’t glance at her.
“Morning,” he said, casual as could be, turning a page.
She pushed herself upright, heart still thudding.
“Dick.”
“Mm?” he hummed, eyes on the paper.
“You were in my dream.”
“Oh?” he said, not looking up. “That so?”
Her eyes narrowed. “Don’t play with me. You were there.”
He paused.
Lowered the newspaper just enough to show his eyes.
There was a spark in them. A knowing one.
“Oh?” he said slowly. “What was I doin’?”
Her face heated instantly.
His smile crooked, small and wicked.
He lifted the newspaper again.