Pretty When You Laugh
(Baran Al-Hashimi x fem!reader)
Summary : Baran tries smoking pot with one of her residents and ends up getting a little too close.
Warnings / tags : (18 + !) shotgunning, dry humping, high / messy making out đââïž, a few pet names
Notes : #needsomemessyahhhighsexwithBaranyesterdayacyually
The sounds of your and Baranâs collective giggling fill the otherwise quiet roof as smoke wisps between you. When you invited Baran up here after work to smoke with you, you were most definitely expecting a quick ânoâ and a lecture on why smoking pot was bad for you. Then she agreed. And now, youâre both high in some cheap folding chairs, giggling over some patient from today.
âAndâ and Doctor Garcia was so angry!â
Baran laughs softly as you roll your head back with uncontrollable laughter. The situation wasnât all that funny. But now, feeling just slightly hazy, uncontrollably giggly and strangely happy around Baran, itâs the funniest thing in the world. While youâre busy laughing, Baran is just⊠staring. She watches with a slight smile, her head tilted to the side, examining you as if she could actually see right through you. She speaks up more softly than she intends.
âYouâre so beautiful when you laugh.â
It goes quiet almost immediately. The sounds of the city and your slowly dying laughter are all thatâs left. Baran straightens up quickly. She didnât mean to say that. Most definitely not. Not that it wasnât the truth. Just that she didnât particularly want you to hear that thought. She doesnât say anything to defend herself though. Whatâs the point? Sheâs aware enough for it to be clear any excuse she makes will sound like a lie.Â
Neither of you say anything for a long moment. Baran sits there, turned to face you, waiting for you to say something to tell her if sheâll have to ignore you at work tomorrow or⊠well, some other outcome. Any other outcome. After a moment, you turn to face her, examining her expression with confused, reddish eyes, as if youâll be able to sense that sheâs lying. All you see is those big brown doe eyes, beautiful and glossy, even in the low lighting. Something about her unwavering gaze, the way everything just shifted with her words makes you have to press your thighs together to believe some of the sudden need. Maybe itâs just thanks to the pot.
âCome here.â
Baran speaks up after a moment, her voice barely a murmurâmore of a whispered command. Her eyes never leave yours. She doesnât know exactly what she wants you close forâsheâs too high for any planning like that. She just knows that she needs you closer than the foot of distance between you two.
Her eyes stay fixed on you as you slowly stand and, with only slightly wobbly steps, come to stand in front of her. Baran sits with a straight back, neck craned to look up at youâexamining your irises like they are precious and impossibly intricate pieces of art.Â
Her hands rise, landing on your hips in a gentle but firm hold. The almost finished joint dangled from her fingers.
âI need to try something.â
She mumbles. It seems all of the doubt Baran had has disappeared. Whether itâs the high or just your reaction to her calling you beautiful is unclear. Sheâs just⊠a little more confident.
Before you know whatâs happening, her hands are tugging you closer, closer until sheâs using her grip to guide you into her lap, straddling her thighs.
âJust like that. So good.â
Baranâs hand rubs over your hip as you settle there, eyes wide and a little confused. When her praise settles with you, she notices your cheeks flush. God, you canât hide anything from her while high. Maybe she needs to do this more often. Her big brown eyes flicker away from yours for just a moment, going half-lidded as they fix on your lips. She stares at them with unabashed desire.
âYou listen so well when you're high.â
Sheâs not wrong. The way youâre just quietly listening to everything she tells you to do is⊠well, to call it a turn on for her would be an understatement. And sheâs sure thatâs not just the weed talking.Â
Her hand comes up to gently grab your jaw, guiding your face closer to hers. Her fingers are steady and firm against your skinânot rough, but nearly reverent.
âI want to try something. I need you to hold still.â
Sheâs already bringing the joint back to her lips as she instructs you to stay there for her. You listen, of course, unable to form the words to either ask what is going on or if she would please just kiss you already. Before she takes a puff of the joint, she leans in and whispers to you:
âOpen your mouth.â
When you do, a small grin spreads on her lipsâa little more unguarded than her usual, practiced smile.Â
âGood girl.â
She mutters, leaving that ache between your thighs even worse. Youâre not sure if sheâs just simply unaware of how that low, slightly rough tone of her voice while she praises you is affecting you, or if sheâs just feeling bold enough to tease. Before you can try to come up with an answer, sheâs taking a hit of the joint and guiding your face in closer, her lips brushing yours. She slowly exhales smoke into your mouth, just barely not connecting your lips.
She doesnât let you go as you inhale the smoke. She holds you there, watching your every minute expression. She wants to kiss you until you canât breathe. But she doesnât. Not yet. Not until she knows youâre sure.
You stare back at her, breathing picking up into something heavier, lips twitching like you canât physically hold back. Itâs silent for a long moment, your breath mingling with hers, the smell of the weed wafting around you. You think that Baran will moveâsheâs usually so quick to take control of a case, why wouldnât it be the same here? But she doesnât. She just stares at you and your glossy eyes, waiting. Waiting until you finally lean in, slowly at first, your already parted lips pressing against hers. Then you feel her grin against you, her hands sliding in a slow, lazy movement around your waist, resting just on the curve of your ass. Then you really canât hold back. You properly lean in. Your armsâfeeling as heavy as the rest of your limbsâwrap around her neck as you tug her in, lips moving against hers hungrily. She returns the gesture, kissing you with a messy sort of need.
Her tongue slides against yours after just a few seconds. Her movements are sloppy, almost lazy, like sheâs savoring this kiss for as long as she can, lost in the feel of you on her already hazy mind. As her tongue tangles with yours, her hands drift lower, fingers gripping the curve of your ass, pulling you against her. The movement is almost instinctiveâlike the weed has her on horny autopilot. Itâs not any different to you. The second your hips press against hers, you grind down against her slowly, a soft, whiny moan slipping from your lips.
Baran just barely pulls away when she hears that noise, leaving you chasing her lips. She stares at you with wide, reddish eyes, breathing already getting heavier. She needs to hear that noise again. This time, she leans in to kiss you harder, somehow more messily than before. Now, her hands, still gripping your ass, begin guiding your hips. She tugs you down until your pussyâstill covered by your scrubsâgrinds against her thigh. Another shaky moan escapes your lips. One comes from Baranâs mouth tooâneedy and soft, unexpectedly whiny for the usually ever-so-steady attending.Â
She guides your hips in a slow rhythm at first. Then, when she pulls you just right so that your already throbbing clit grinds against her, a full-fledged moan slips out. Even here, on a public roof, you canât bring yourself to try and stay quiet. Not when youâre sitting in Baranâs lap, making out with her, cunt soaking just from humping her thigh. That moan just spurs Baran on. With a groan against your lips, her hips start desperately bucking up against yours. The high has you both feeling hazy and, somehow, better than either of you have in ages, just from dry humping each other.Â
Baran feels her clit bumping against your hip as she bucks up into you. Sheâs desperate and needy and already so goddamn close. She never cums this fast. Thereâs just something about your desperate moans, the still lingering scent of the weed around you, the way your hips stutter as you chase after your release from grinding against her thigh. So, sheâs feeling close already.
âFuck, youâre so fucking perfect.â
Baran murmurs against your lips, guiding your hips in rougher movements. Feeling you against her has her feeling more high than the weed.Â
âTo baraye man khili ali npasti, esh. Khili ali.â
She switches to Farsi on instinct. Her mind is so clouded with how good it feels to grind against you, her tongue against yours, hands on your ass, her words come out strained and rough, different from how youâve ever heard it before.
Baran hears your moans change into unintelligible whimpers as you get close to the edge. She keeps grinding you against her, hands hiding each desperate buck of your hips while you search for the pressure you need. She mumbles how perfect you are against your lips, as if sheâs unable to disconnect herself.
You cum with a loud, needy cry that the night-shift could probably hear the reverberations from inside. Your hips stutter, the pressure of each grind against your clit all of a sudden causing your thighs to twitch and shake. Baran watches you ride it out with a look of reverenceâthe effects of the weed making it damn near impossible for her to conceal her amazement. Her own orgasm hits without her even realizing it, just from watching you cum in your pants from riding her thigh.Â
She keeps guiding you as she rides out her pleasure, causing that feeling of heat in your stomach from the overstimulationâthighs tensing, moans turning to whimpers and your back arching uncontrollably. Baran watches all of it like itâs the most beautiful thing sheâs ever seen.
Itâs a long moment before both of your moans die down into heavy, ragged breathing, your lipâs finally disconnecting. Baran breathes heavily against you, her face nuzzling into the crook of your neck. You lean your head against hers. If the weed made you feel all hazy, the fucking made you feel absolutely gone.Â
âYouâŠâ
Baran starts, her words cut off by a heavy puff of air and the dryness of her throat. Her voice comes out a little rough.
âYouâre perfect, azizam. So good for me.â
Your limbs are heavy as one of her hands drifts to rub lazy circles against your back, like she canât possibly separate from you. You feel like you could either fall asleep right here on Baran or keep fucking her in every position possible until the sunrise.
You really donât remember much of what happened between that moment and the sun rising. All that you know is, somehow, you ended up in Baranâs bed, tangled up with her in her quiet homeâher son off at her ex-husband's house. Based on the very faint memory of the events and the dark hickeys you spot immediately littering Baranâs neck, you can make a guess.
When Baran stirs and slowly blinks her eyes open, you just watch her. As a small grin appears on her face, you lean in, pressing a gentle kiss to her jaw. Maybe you really do need to smoke with her more often.










