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Samira Mohan is perfect.
She's perfect and he's decided that he needs a million more of her.
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jack loves samira So Much
Bookmarked by if_only
23 Jun 2026
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Samira has long known that being friends with Robby is a character flaw. It had just never seemed so damning until now. It itched at her inion whenever Jack stared at her from across the ED. She pushed it away when he emailed case studies, because he was the only person not related to her who emailed her at all. She ignored it because she liked the way his callused hands brushed against the soft skin of her inner thighs and how his warm tongue felt heavy in her mouth. She craved the goosebump tingle that seemed to pulse at every nerve ending, at every millimeter of skin, whenever Jack’s attention focused solely on her at the end of a long day.
Bookmarked by if_only
22 Jun 2026
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"You want me," Jack said slowly, "to film you at your worst. As a deterrent."
"Exactly."
"For a hypothetical future pregnancy you're already planning to talk yourself out of."
"Yes."
He stared at her for a long moment.
Then he pulled out his phone.
The way he did it — one-handed, that small focused expression settling into his jaw — she thought, with total despair: this is the problem. This is the fucking problem.a.k.a. Dr. Samira Mohan is going to want to do this again.
Bookmarked by if_only
19 Jun 2026
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Samira can't really pinpoint where the desire comes from. Can't say with certainty why the thought of Jack coming home from work, finding her asleep in his bed and pulling down the sheets to ruck up her shirt or drag her panties down her hips makes pleasure spark low in her gut.
Or: Somnophilia
Bookmarked by if_only
16 Jun 2026
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She shrugged, biting her lip to hide her glee at his cluelessness. “Well, plus opening acts and driving? Yeah, have fun spending it with your nightcrawlers. Or could you think of something better to do?”
“Yeah,” he said softly.
His eyes tracked her curls splayed across the pillow she had brought from Seattle. He looked over at the bedside table he had bought and assembled before her arrival, now cluttered with her various pill bottles, chapsticks, claw clips, and loose change. He thought of the boxes littering the hallway, and the quiet reality that they were going to spend months, maybe even years, together in this space.
No more hurried conversations in the ambulance bay at PTMC. No more hotel rooms booked just so she could get out of her shoebox apartment to sleep in a king size bed with him.
“I’d rather be here with you,” he admitted quietly, leaning down to press one more kiss to her lips.
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inspired by “ the art of lazying about (and loving)” artwork by @nikinikori on twitterBookmarked by if_only
16 Jun 2026