#lorraine

David Tennant - in Profile - Right - Part 7

(From Lorraine 02/03/2026)

After a nightmare about her mother, you seek comfort in Lorraine Warren’s bed. What begins as tender holding quickly turns into passionate, healing intimacy as she takes loving control and makes you feel safe and wanted.

warnings: Hurt/Comfort, Soft Domme Lorraine Warren, Mommy Issues, Gentle Smut, Strap-on Sex, Cunnilingus, Face-Sitting, Aftercare, Healing Through Touch, Established Relationship, Fluff & Smut

for anon !

The nightmare had sunk its claws deep tonight. You bolted upright in the guest room bed of the Warren house, chest heaving, skin clammy with sweat. In the dream you were small, hands clutching worn bedsheets while a voice that should have meant safety sharpened into something cruel and distant.

The same old wound: the mother-shaped absence that never quite healed, the longing for gentle hands and unconditional warmth that had always gone unmet. Tears burned at the corners of your eyes as the shadows in the room seemed to press closer.

You couldn’t stay alone with it. Barefoot, wearing only an oversized sleep shirt that barely reached mid-thigh you slipped out of bed and padded down the familiar hallway. Moonlight filtered through the tall windows, catching on framed photos of past cases and protective relics. The house itself felt watchful, but safe especially because she was here.

Lorraine’s door was ajar, just as it always seemed to be on nights like this. Soft amber light spilled from her bedside lamp. You pushed the door open gently

She was already sitting up, as if some intuitive sense had woken her the moment your distress began. Lorraine Warren looked ethereal in the low light dark hair cascading in loose waves over one shoulder, the delicate white silk slip she wore clinging to the soft curves of her breasts and hips.

Her skin glowed warm and inviting. Those deep, knowing eyes. eyes that had stared down demons softened instantly at the sight of you.

“Oh, sweetheart,” she breathed, voice husky with sleep but full of tenderness. She set her book aside and opened her arms without hesitation. “Come here. Let me hold you.”

You crossed the room in seconds, climbing onto the large four-poster bed and crawling straight into her embrace. Lorraine wrapped you up completely, one arm around your back, the other cradling your head against her chest.

Her heartbeat was steady and strong beneath your cheek. She smelled like lavender soap, aged paper from her research books and something indefinably comforting home.

“Another nightmare?” she murmured, lips brushing your temple.

Her fingers traced slow, soothing circles between your shoulder blades, then lower along your spine.

You nodded, voice muffled against her silk-covered skin. “Mommy issues again. The ones where she’s there but… not really. Cold. Then the strange creatures…come wearing her face.”

Lorraine exhaled softly, holding you tighter. “You’re not there anymore. You’re here, with me. Safe. Warm. Wanted.” She pressed a lingering kiss to your forehead, then another to your damp cheek. “You don’t have to be strong tonight. Let me take care of every piece of you.”

Her words melted the last tension in your body. You nuzzled closer, inhaling her scent as her hands roamed gently rubbing your arms, stroking your hair, grounding you in the present. When she tilted your chin up, her gaze was full of quiet command and endless affection.

“Look at me,” she whispered. “Good girl. Just breathe with me.”

You did. And when she leaned in to kiss you, it started feather-light, soft presses against your lips that deepened gradually. Her mouth was warm, plush and patient. She coaxed yours open, tongue sliding against yours in slow, sensual strokes that made heat bloom low in your belly.

Your hands fisted in the silk at her waist as a soft whimper escaped you.

Lorraine smiled against your lips. “That’s it. Let it all go.”

She laid you down against the pile of pillows with reverent care, as though you were something sacred.

The silk sheets whispered beneath you. Lorraine moved over you, her body a comforting weight, soft breasts pressing against yours through thin fabric, hips settling naturally between your thighs. She kissed you again, deeper this time, while her hands explored.

Skilled fingers slipped beneath the hem of your sleep shirt, gliding up your sides, mapping every curve. She cupped your breasts, thumbs brushing over your nipples until they pebbled under her touch. You arched with a gasp.

“So responsive tonight,” she murmured, voice low and warm. “My sweet girl is aching, isn’t she?”

“Yes… Lorraine, please.”

She peeled your shirt off slowly, revealing you to the warm lamplight. Then she shrugged out of her own slip, letting it pool beside the bed.

Skin to skin at last her body was heavenly: full, soft breasts with dusky nipples, the gentle curve of her stomach, strong yet feminine thighs.

She kissed down your neck, sucking lightly at your pulse point, then lower. Her mouth closed over one nipple, tongue swirling, teeth grazing just enough to make you moan.

She lavished the same attention on the other, sucking until your hips rolled helplessly against her.

One of her hands trailed downward, fingers dipping between your thighs. She groaned softly at what she found. “You’re soaked, darling. So ready for me.”

Two fingers stroked through your slick folds, parting you, circling your swollen clit with teasing lightness. Every time you tried to press closer she eased back, keeping perfect control, gentle dominance that made you tremble with need. She kissed her way down your body: sternum, ribs, the soft plane of your stomach, the sensitive skin of your inner thighs. She settled between your legs, draping one of your thighs over her shoulder.

The first broad lick up your center drew a broken cry from your throat. Lorraine hummed in satisfaction, the vibration sending sparks through you.

She took her time long, slow licks from entrance to clit, then focused suction on the sensitive bundle of nerves while two fingers pressed inside you.

She curled them expertly, stroking that spongy spot that made stars explode behind your eyelids.

You came hard, thighs clamping around her head, hips jerking as pleasure crashed through you in waves. Lorraine didn’t pull away.

She gentled her movements, licking you through the aftershocks, then built you up again, slower, deeper. Three fingers now, stretching you deliciously while her tongue flicked relentlessly.

Your second orgasm left you sobbing her name, fingers tangled tight in her dark hair.

Only then did she crawl back up, kissing the tears from your cheeks. “Beautiful,” she whispered, voice husky with arousal. “You come so pretty for me.”

She reached into the bedside drawer and retrieved the smooth, curved silicone toy you both adored. After coating it generously with lube and your own wetness, she positioned it at your entrance.

Her eyes locked on yours as she pushed in slowly inch by thick inch watching every flicker of pleasure across your face.

Once it was buried deep, she braced herself over you and began to move. Long, rolling thrusts that ground the base against her own clit with every motion.

The fullness was perfect. Her breasts swayed above you, nipples brushing yours. You wrapped your legs high around her waist, heels digging into her back, pulling her deeper.

Lorraine’s pace stayed loving but grew more intense deep, grinding strokes that hit every sensitive spot inside you. Sweat slicked your skin where you pressed together. Her breath came in soft pants against your neck as she whispered praises: how perfect you felt, how much she loved taking you apart, how safe you were in her arms.

You shattered again, clenching hard around the toy, pulling her over the edge with you. Lorraine moaned low and sweet, hips stuttering as her own release washed over her. She stayed buried inside you as she trembled, kissing you through it.

Afterwards, she withdrew gently and cleaned you both with a warm, damp cloth from the ensuite. Then she pulled you into her arms under the covers. You curled against her chest like a contented cat, one leg thrown over hers, her fingers carding slowly through your hair.

“Better?” she asked, pressing a kiss to your crown

“Much better,” you murmured, already drifting. “Thank you.”

“Always, sweetheart. Sleep now. I’ve got you.”

You woke up in the morning. Sunlight streamed through the lace curtains in soft golden beams when you woke. Lorraine was propped on one elbow beside you, watching with open adoration. Her hair was sex-messy, lips kiss-swollen, and the sheet had slipped down to reveal the tops of her breasts.

“Morning, sleepy girl,” she said softly, leaning in for a slow, deep kiss. Her hand stroked down your side, cupping your hip. “How do you feel?”

“Safe. Loved. And… still needy,” you admitted with a shy smile.

Lorraine’s laugh was warm and rich. “Lucky me. Because I woke up wanting to devour you again.”

This time everything unfolded with luxurious laziness. She kissed down your body inch by inch worshipping your breasts until they were flushed and sensitive, licking a slow trail down your stomach, then spreading your thighs wide.

She ate you out like she was starved, long, decadent licks, sucking your clit, fucking you with her tongue and then her fingers until you came twice once fast and sharp, once slow and rolling that left you shaking.

Then she straddled your face, lowering her glistening pussy onto your waiting mouth. You licked into her eagerly, savoring her taste sweet and musky.

Lorraine rocked gently above you, fingers in your hair, moaning softly as you sucked her clit and thrust your tongue inside her.

When she came it was with a beautiful, shuddering cry, thighs trembling around your head.

She slid down and kissed you filthily, tasting herself on your tongue.

Then she spooned you from behind, pulling your back flush to her chest. One arm wrapped around you, hand cupping a breast and teasing the nipple.

The other guided the toy back between your legs. She entered you slowly, filling you completely, and began a deep, unhurried rhythm.

Every thrust pressed her breasts against your back, her breath hot on your neck. She whispered filthy-sweet things how tight and wet you were, how she loved feeling you clench around her, how she could do this for hours.

The angle let the toy grind perfectly against your g-spot while her fingers circled your clit. You came hard, pushing back against her, and she followed with a low groan, grinding deep as her orgasm pulsed through her.

You stayed joined like that for a long while, basking in the warmth and stickiness, trading lazy kisses over your shoulder.

Lorraine eventually pulled out, cleaned you again, and rolled you to face her. She held you close, legs tangled, stroking every inch of skin she could reach.

Those old wounds don’t get the final say,” she murmured against your lips. “Not while I’m here. If the nightmares come back, you come straight to me. Understood?”

You nodded, kissing her deeply. “Understood.”