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laurfilijames · 2 years ago

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Ohhhh I always look forward to your review so much and this one has me smiling again as I read it over 🥰

The moodboard wouldn't exist without you, so thank you for the yummy gif to use 🤤

Ford is really trying to figure things out here. Can he trust her? Should he? Points for her for lying to the cops yes, but her hesitation still flows through her and he can certainly feel it.

Needless to say, neither one of them are really making wise choices in their lives but 😅 sometimes what your heart (and body) wants just has to win.

A part 4 will be happening, I can't help myself when it comes to him 🥴

The Devil You Know

Part 3

Part 1 Part 2

Pairing: Ford Lampton x female reader

Words: 4,141

Warnings: Rated E, 18+. Unprotected intercourse. Swearing.

Summary: While enjoying a quiet morning with Ford, unexpected guests arrive and interrupt your domestic bliss, making you question his innocence and your safety again, and soon you find yourself giving in to how you really feel about him.

A/N: Nothing to say really, just constant Ford Lampton brain rot 🥴

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He smells of me. The fresh scent of citrus from my body wash mixes with the smell of his warm skin as well as the remnants of the sex we had; our sweat combining to lure me into desire once more as I breathe him in.

He’s become mine; my liability, my lover, a risk I want to take again and again.

He snores softly as if he doesn’t have a care in the world, and I find myself for yet another time questioning how someone looking like this, so innocent and at peace, and who makes me feel what I do, could be capable of such horrors.

As my worries get the better of me, I lean closer into him, and he automatically drapes his heavy arm over my waist. I feel safe with him in this tender moment, even though part of me might believe it’s him I should be fearing. I vine my arms around his thick torso, tucking my face into his neck, seeking and finding contentment in the most unsuspecting source. His skin is hot and comforting, familiar to me now after the amount of times my lips and fingers have tasted and felt it, and I know despite everything that could come of this, I will crave him when I can’t have him.

Later, my tired body wakes up to the smell of freshly brewed coffee, and I stretch my aching limbs only to feel the other half of my bed that had been occupied for so many hours is vacant.

"Ford?" I call out in a voice that is raspy from sleep, although only him and I know that the hoarseness lacing it is actually from my endless cries of pleasure.

With light steps, I tip-toe my way to the kitchen to find the reason behind the smile that dresses my swollen lips, and keep quiet for a moment to admire what is before me.

Ford appears right at home in my kitchen, opening drawers and cupboards as if he knows exactly where everything is kept, busy putting the finishing touches on two mugs of coffee. His senses must be sharper than I expect, because although I was certain I hadn't made a sound, he glances over his bare shoulder at me and flashes me a warm smile.

"Ah, I was hoping to surprise you in bed," he admits, making my own smile grow and my thighs rub together as I take notice of the way his track pants hug the outline of his cock.

I walk over to him and wrap my arms around his neck, scratching my nails up his short hair so it causes him to place the coffees back down on the counter and clasp his hands on my waist.

His lips crash against mine as he pulls me flush against him, and I moan into his mouth when I feel the growing hardness between his legs press against my exposed flesh.

"Have I told you how much I like having you here?" I coo, feeling lost in this false sense of domestic bliss, the yearning we both feel to play 'house' together and ignore the reality of everything else outweighing my gut instincts.

Ford chuckles against my lips as he continues where we left off, deepening each kiss until I am clutching and grabbing at his back and he's leaning me against the counter top while spreading my legs apart with his thigh.

A commanding knock pounds on my front door, making me jump while Ford looks at me quizzically.

"Just a minute!" I call loudly enough that hopefully whoever is there grows patient, but as I quickly cross back over to my room to grab something to cover my naked body, the knocks come louder and more frequent.

I finish tying the strap of my robe tight on my waist as I open the door, my frustration at their rude insistence disappearing the moment my brain registers who the two people wearing dark coloured suits and serious expressions are.

"Officers," I stumble out, feeling my pulse quicken and a nervous worry flipping in my stomach as my shaking hands work to make sure I'm not exposing myself to them.

"Detective Da Silva and Detective Bennett," the female speaks in a cold tone, her eyes boring into me while her partner obviously glances behind me to get a look at my house.

"How can I help you, Detectives?"

"We're just here to ask some questions about your relations with Ford Lampton," Detective Da Silva says in a judgemental inflection, her eyebrow raised.

"Did I hear my name?" Ford asks, almost too joyfully, as he walks up behind me and puts the hand that isn't gripping my favourite coffee mug on my shoulder, giving it a squeeze that I'm unsure to take as a reassurance or warning.

"Mr. Lampton." Da Silva smiles smugly. "We were wanting to know your whereabouts over the last twenty-four hours. Seems things have been unusually quiet over at your brother's home and both Simon and Karen mentioned not seeing you."

"He's been here," I pipe up, doing everything in my power to steady my heart rate and even out my breathing.

Bennett and Da Silva give each other a look I know means they don't believe my statement that is half true, and in an effort to show confidence I open my mouth again.

"Would you care to come in for some coffee? Ford's just made some."

"No, that's fine, we won't be long."

She gazes at me as if the longer she holds eye contact, the faster I will crack, but with Ford's hand still sitting heavily on my shoulder I stay strong.

“When exactly did Mr. Lampton arrive here?"

"Yesterday evening, around 7," I lie. "Ford finished work and went for a run, ending up here. I made him dinner and he stayed the night."

Da Silva nods while Bennett scribbles in his notepad, and I offer a sweet smile as Ford places a loving kiss on my cheek; in thanks or as a ploy to aid our story I'm not sure.

"And you two have been having relations for how long?" Her index finger points from me to him and back again, making her demeanor come off more accusatory than it actually is.

"A couple weeks now, eh?" Ford answers, looking at me softly before giving the detective a dimpled grin.

"Right. Well, I think that's all for now," Da Silva says dryly, clearfly unsatisfied with the information she was just given. "Make sure you stay close, Ford," she warns, looking at him like she knows more than she's letting off. "We'll be needing to speak with you again."

Both detectives turn and walk down my front steps toward their car, leaving me stunned and Ford to move to close the door behind them.

I swallow thickly and rub my hand through my hair, the reality of what I've just done settling in on me. Even with my eyes closed I can feel Ford staring me down, and fearful of the look I'll see when I open them, I take a deep breath and exhale it through my mouth before doing so.

"Why would they come here, Ford?" I nearly spit, a wave of nausea flooding me as I begin to panic.

He dares to laugh as he looks down at his bare feet, tucking his lip between his teeth so his grin tilts crookedly, and my fear of him as well as what can happen to me for lying to the cops makes me feel paralyzed.

"Simon has done some bad things," he says quietly, taking a step toward me in a calm way that shouldn't feel as threatening as it does. "I know everything he's done and he's trying to pin it all on me."

He licks his lips as he looks me over, his eyes narrowing as he can see me working to try to believe him.

I suck in air and hold it in my lungs when he reaches up to cup my cheek, his thumb smoothing back and forth gently, and when he presses a kiss on my lips, I allow myself to breathe again as he makes me lose myself in him once more.

My eyes open when he breaks away from me enough that I can see how wonderfully blue his are, and his thumb slides down my face to land on my bottom lip where he applies enough pressure to pull my mouth open.

"I can't decide if I should reward you for being such a good girl, or punish you because you still don't believe me," he whispers, his dimples appearing in his cheeks as his grin matches the amused look in his eyes.

My heart hammers in my chest, sending a rush of pulsing blood down to my core when he continues explaining his wicked plans for me.

"I'll just have to do both," he promises, chuckling again as I moan and quiver to his touch as his fingers trail over my collarbone and begin to peel my robe from my skin. I curse myself for being so weak to his game, to wanting him so desperately despite knowing he is everything I should be running from.

His lips on my neck whisk that all away instantly, the way he is kissing and sucking my sensitive flesh tricking me into thinking he has my best interests at heart, that I am safe with him, that he loves me. The ache between my legs has caused me to become deluded and manipulated, a pawn in his game to be used as he pleases, and right now I can't think of anything better.

"I believe you, Ford," I breathe, saying it equally as much to convince myself.

His teeth nip at my neck and I gasp, clawing my nails into his broad shoulders as the slightly painful gesture sends goosebumps all over my skin and my arousal to spike even more.

"No you don't," he hisses, moving so I'm forced back against the wall, his hands planting themselves on either side of my head so I'm trapped between them and his strong body before me. "You might be half decent at lying to the cops, but I see right through you."

His eyes flicker from my parted lips that pant nervous breaths up to my eyes that I know show my fear, and deceiving me once again with a tenderness I'm still uncertain he actually possesses, he tucks a strand of hair behind my ear while giving me a smile that makes butterflies explode in my stomach.

"Don't worry, I like you too much to let anything happen to you," he whispers, still looking at me sweetly. "And it's impossible for you to hide how much you like it when I hurt you a little."

He chuckles when he notices my pupils dilate and drives his thigh between my legs, nudging them apart as he forces himself on me, capturing my lips in a bruising kiss.

I whine against him, unable to disguise my arousal, and move my hips to grind on his thigh, knowing I'm staining his track pants with slick.

"You just can't help yourself, can you?" he asks in a deliciously low, breathy tone, making my skin ache for more of his touch.

I shake my head side to side and move my face closer to him so my lips graze against his, hoping to tease him into kissing me more, harder, so he can steal my breath in a way I know I can get it back again.

I press my breasts out toward him, arching my back off the wall so my stiff nipples touch his skin through the curls on his chest, the divine sensation making me whine and rest my head against the support behind me.

Unable to handle how he has somehow refused to touch me, I snake my arms around his neck, scraping my nails through the short hairs on his scalp, down his neck to his shoulders, and slowly over his chest where I carefully follow the trail of auburn coils as they lead me below the band of his pants. I slip a needy hand in, smoothing it in a twisting motion over his already hard, velvety shaft, watching his eyes fall shut and his dimples flinch in his cheeks as he clenches his teeth.

I stroke him from base to tip and back again, repeating the routine that makes my mouth water every time my hand brushes against the dense, coarse hairs that surround his manhood, the heat coming from him matching my own.

My other hand slowly starts to tug at the waist of his joggers, my fingers creeping them down over the plump curve of his ass, and removing the hand that had been gripping his cock, I watch it spring out and bounce against his lower belly, sending me into an even more frenzied state.

"You want that don't you?" he purrs, smirking at me before he follows my gaze to watch as the head of his cock wags before my wet folds.

I spread my legs a little further, opening myself to him, my patience vanishing as a slightly pathetic feeling sets in at just how submissive I am to this man.

"How do you want it?"

"Hard."

I swallow thickly, closing my eyes as I hope he'll fulfill my wishes.

"Where do you want it?" he breathes, his voice deep with restraint. "Your mouth? Or buried in here?" he asks, driving two fingers inside me briefly before withdrawing them immediately. "Or do you want me to fuck that tight ass of yours again?"

He spoke in almost a growl, and my breath hitches at his lewd words, knowing without seeing him that he's enjoying the way my body reveals how much I revel in his suggestions.

"Everywhere."

I open my eyes when I hear him chuckle at my answer, the bright blue of his irises appearing even more vibrant with the presence of deep lust in them.

"Such a slut for me," he mutters, his mouth beside my ear where he tugs my lobe between his teeth, his cock pressing up against my folds where I shudder a reserved cry.

Ever the man to do as he pleases, Ford looks at me with a tender admission in his eyes before capturing my lips in a painfully slow kiss, his tongue probing against mine tentatively, his hands reaching to hold my face in a way a devoted lover would.

A whine that is half frustration and half relief pours from my mouth into his, my fingers clawing into his back to contrast how he is carefully smoothing my cheeks as if I might break under his touch.

Pushing my hips toward him, I rub against his engorged head, feeling the precum that oozes from it glide along my clit, the sensation only increasing my restlessness. My head falls back to thud against the wall, impatience for how insistent he is at taking his time with me growing by the second. It seems to only encourage him more, his lips trailing teasingly slow down my neck where his breath fans out over my skin as he inhales my scent and drinks it in.

"Ford…" I moan, unable to tolerate this treatment any longer, desperate for him to ruin me how he usually does.

He brings his mouth back up to mine, slipping his hand lazily down my waist to my hip until he reaches my thigh, and with a gentle squeeze, he prompts me to lift it to hook around his middle. He repeats the same with the other leg, his body supporting mine against the wall, firm enough to keep me steady, but still with a gentleness that goes against every way he's treated me up until now.

A needy moan blows from his mouth into mine as he finally pushes through my entrance, filling me inch by inch, his desire to savour each moment clear in his actions.

His hands leave my legs and wrap around my back, holding me against his body so tight as he begins to move his hips, his cock dragging slowly out, and pushing back in again, his kisses purposeful.

Soon, I'm equally as lost in him as he is in me, and the more I relax to the languid, loving motions, the more my body lets go of its fevered desires and listens to my heart drumming along to its deluded song.

Ford's tempo is unhurried, but each thrust is perfectly calculated to coax out my undoing, and it seems with each caress of my hands and lips on him that his emotions come barrelling through, leading him to a place it is clear he tried to ignore for so long.

I can't deny what I feel for him despite my best efforts not to, and the longer I'm left to my own devices, kissing and feeling his body with mine, the more I want to give him everything I know he's wanted and had to go without.

Continuing to melt into me, Ford deepens his pace, his mouth abandoning mine as it hangs open against my neck as he pants for breath, his guarded exterior fading quickly to reveal a side of him that makes me wonder if he actually does hold some version of love for me in his darkened, broken heart.

This thought alone sends me to a point of no return, and grinding on him up and down until I feel the heat dispersing from my core up my spine, making my limbs tingle and shake, I call his name as I collapse on his shoulder and chase my high.

"Ford!" I repeat, commanding him to fall with me.

Right as I am about to shatter, he pauses, delaying my climax that leaves me whining helplessly, planting me back against the wall so he can peel my head off of his sturdy frame and stare at me seriously.

That same uncertainty shifts in his eyes, his chest heaving against mine as he battles in his mind just as he has all the other times we've been together, and to help convince him to give in to what he feels, I reach up and smooth my fingers over his furrowed brow, watching his eyes close and sighing heavily.

I dare squeeze him within my walls, reminding him of what he hasn't permitted me yet, the sensation making him groan furiously and flex inside me.

When he opens his eyes again, any evidence of adoration is gone, and with a sharp thrust, he's buried within me completely again, reminding my body of the point of pleasure it was so cruelly abandoned at.

He pulls out of me, leaving me quivering and empty, and with forceful hands he removes my legs from around his waist, somehow expecting me to stand on uneasy feet.

Without the use of his words to give his order, Ford spins me around and pushes me against the wall, my hands splaying out over the plaster to stop my face from smacking into it.

My fingers grip at the texture, wishing it was his skin instead, trying to make purchase with something to ground me as he shoves his hand between my legs, fingering me from behind with two of his thick fingers, gliding in and out of my soppy channel until I'm crying with pleasure once more.

His chest flattens on my back, pressing me flush to the wall so I have nowhere to move, forcing me to turn my head to the side where my heated cheek begins to cool from the differing temperature of the drywall.

I feel his cock that is wet from me replace his hand, rubbing back and forth between my cheeks, hitting my entrance to tease me further. His hands grope my flesh, squeezing my hips and breasts in turn callously to demonstrate that any tenderness he was feeling toward me is officially gone.

Still, I moan to his touch, relishing in the way he handles me, craving more and more despite my dignity depleting with how terribly I enjoy his vulgar treatment of me.

Finally, his cock slams into me, making me gasp and slap the wall as his teeth bite at my neck and graze down the side of it. Goosebumps erupt over my entire body, and when his breath fans over the streak of wet skin he just created, I beg him in another plea with the use of his name.

"You need to stop this," he grunts, hammering into me in the same brutal way I've grown to love.

"Stop what?" I ask, my voice shaky from my climax quickly rebuilding to its full strength.

Continuing to pummel me, he remains quiet aside from his grunts of effort, and the lewd sounds coming from our bodies fills my otherwise silent house.

My nipples rub on the cold drywall, the roughness on my sensitive pebbles adding to the plethora of condemning stimulation, making me forget for a moment my curiosity in what Ford means. Sticking my ass out to meet each of his powerful thrusts, I feel my orgasm threaten me again with its presence, and as I clench in a tantalizing rhythm around his cock, I can feel him approaching his demise as well.

Turning my head to the other side in an effort to see his face, I glance over my shoulder, only to be slammed further into the wall, my cries of pleasure bordering on pain as he continues to fight with himself, and wrapping my hair around his hand, he tugs it harshly so my head tips even more and he can suck and bite at the spot where my pulse hammers.

"Stop what, Ford?" I repeat, my tone desperate in wanting an answer as well as relief from his endless, mind-numbing assault.

The way he handles me has me on the fringe of terrified, but if I'm honest, I'll let him handle me any way he sees fit and will beg for more when he's finished.

With a frustrated growl, he finally speaks, his voice teetering between anger and reserved emotion. "Making me feel what I do."

I smile victoriously, knowing exactly what it is he means, but selfishly, I want to hear him say it.

"What do you feel?"

He picks up his pace, ignoring my inquisition, choosing not to relent his vicious attack on my body that is eerily similar to the game of war our hearts and minds are playing with each other.

My mouth drags across the wall, hanging open as I give in to what my body needs, my spit smearing on the paint colour that is too innocent to have such an act taking place against it.

His tempo becomes erratic, and when he catches me smiling with lunacy derived from such intense pleasure, he slaps his hand against the wall beside my face, making me jump and somehow smile more right before I'm tossed into the torrent of rapture and scream through my high.

I drag Ford with me, feeling him stutter against my body as he pulses inside me until I'm full of his spend, his mouth hovering beside my ear so his unbridled growls resonate and eventually die out with the ripples of my climax.

He attaches his lips to my neck again, the sucking and nipping quickly fading into softer kisses, his belly rising and falling against my back as he works to catch his breath.

We remain how we are, basking in the togetherness until he slips out of me, and tipping my head back to lay on his shoulder, he wraps his arms around me and holds me closer.

I clench my teeth together, wanting to open my mouth to thank him, but knowing if I do, my tongue will let slip the one thing I've feared this whole time.

His thumbs smooth back and forth on my arm and my stomach, and his breathing that has now slowed to a calm, relaxing pattern tempts me further. With a kiss to my cheek, my bravery blooms.

I've already committed a crime, what do I have to lose now?

"I love you, Ford," I announce, confident in my folly.

My eyes close, waiting for whatever reaction might come, my admission making me feel free now as opposed to fearful, and I exhale a long breath while my fingers languidly stroke the hair covering his wrists as they stay bound around me.

I can feel his heartbeat striking against my back, and after another moment, Ford scoops me up in his arms and carries me to bed where I pray we can be left to indulge in our ignornance of reality.

---

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#yes this is the selfiest self insert ever #ford lampton brain rot #ford lampton #ford lampton smut #ford lampton x female reader #ford x female reader #the bad seed #the bad seed nz #dean o'gorman

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