BlueFish9
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Jack can't sleep. Neither can Samira. What starts as a series of late-night chats on the phone soon blossoms into love. If only they can both stop being such goddamn idiots.
Bookmarked by BlueFish9
20 May 2026
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Jack has and will do anything for Samira Mohan. Has written her letters of recommendation for fellowships, and moved her permanently to the night shift to help boost her confidence after the hit it took that Fourth of July shift.
He's also shoved any romantic thoughts deep, deep down so he can focus on being her mentor.
But when Samira Mohan runs into his arms, literally, asking him to pretend to be her boyfriend to get some creep off her back, well... What else was Jack supposed to do?
Series
- Part 2 of mohabbot week 2026
- Part 2 of Mohabbot Coffee Shop Fix-It
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 16,829
- Chapters:
- 4/?
- Collections:
- 1
- Comments:
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- Kudos:
- 528
- Bookmarks:
- 80
- Hits:
- 6,202
Bookmarked by BlueFish9
17 May 2026
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Skin hunger, sometimes called touch hunger or touch deprivation, refers to the human need for comforting, non-sexual physical contact. Touch activates the parasympathetic nervous system, which helps regulate stress and create a sense of safety.
Bookmarked by BlueFish9
14 May 2026
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The flirting thing with Abbot had come easily. Jack Abbot was a known flirt. It didn't matter the person. Dana or Dr. Al or Myrna–Whitaker if he was really in the mood to make someone blush. He'd flash a crooked smile or a wink with a sly remark to anyone in his proximity.
So when Samira asked him over the hustle of the Pittfest MCI what else was in his go-bag and he'd just smiled and replied "Oh, just wait and see," the flirty tone had not surprised her, but the tug of intrigue in her stomach it had elicited caught her a bit off guard.
So the next time Abbot had asked in passing if she had any weekend plans, despite her intention to curl up in her bed with her laptop and refrain from human contact for forty-eight hours, she'd quipped back a coy, "Wouldn't you like to know, Abbot."
Bookmarked by BlueFish9
20 Mar 2026
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Summary
Feeling like a disheveled and dangerously nauseous Goldilocks, she moved to sit up. She was still wearing her faded blue tank, scrub pants, and socks, her scrub top nowhere to be found. She hoped that she hadn’t removed it in front of her colleagues in the park. Which didn’t seem like something any version of her would do, not even Drunk Samira, but who could say, really.
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The morning after the shift from hell.
Bookmarked by BlueFish9
19 Mar 2026