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Summary
There's this feeling in her chest, something heavy, yet hollow. Something that tells her she doesn't fit anymore - she used to, she knows that. She used to feel at home in this ER and with these people. But now, now there's a distance in the glances she gets, a quizzical judgement. Almost as if they're asking why she's still here.
I don't know! She wants to scream at them. But I also don't know where else to go. She admits to herself quiety.
It fills her brain with static and her body with discomfort.
But it's funny. All of that stops.
The noise. The frustration. The worry.
It all stops when she looks at him.
And he stands there, like a safe haven. The eye of the storm, nothing but pure calm laced into a prosthetic with salt and pepper hair.
It calls to her like a lighthouse, beckoning her in with nowhere else to go.
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Samira Mohan moves to Oceanside after inheriting her uncle’s house and finds herself drawn to her dangerously quiet neighbor, Andrew 'Pope' Cody. As grief, violence, and the collapsing Cody empire close in around them, their connection becomes impossible to resist.
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Jack watched Samira’s whole body freeze up, the colour draining from her face as her lungs started to struggle to take in oxygen, her eyes began to dart around the room and look towards where Perla was looking over a chart approaching the hub.
The hair on the back of Jack’s neck rose up as he watched Samira start to hyperventilate in front of him, “Samira, are you ok-”
Samira frantically looked between where Perla was talking to someone and looked around their vicinity until she spotted the gap underneath the desk in front of them, and without hesitation she dropped to her knees and scrambled to crawl beneath the desk.
OR
Stalker AU, where Samira has stalker and Protective!Jack helps her to hide from him
Series
- Part 5 of In every universe but our own
Bookmarked by eliabbot
04 Jul 2026
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Summary
Jack Abbot is many things: the crown jewel of the School of Public Health, for one, whose 5.0 hotness score on Rate My Professor might be singularly responsible for the record enrollment in the Conflict Epidemiology program this year. He is uncompromising where it counts, and intensely discerning, and is, therefore, a natural at organically weeding out the students who registered for his classes solely for the aforementioned chili peppers. But for those who truly want to learn, he is thorough and patient and fair, a born educator and leader.
What he isn’t is a mind reader.
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Fourth-year Public Health PhD student Samira Mohan needs a favor.
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“You know, Robby and I once spent one very ill advised afternoon trying to nap off a hangover in that very parking lot.” Samira doesn’t even deign to acknowledge that little nugget of information with a reply; she doesn’t want to know. Her face must communicate that sentiment very clearly because Abbot continues, “But let’s see…” he trails off, looking off into the middle distance like he can see both his schedule and her desperation. “Wednesday afternoon, Wednesday afternoon…Wednesday afternoon! My schedule seems to be wide open, and I haven’t actually been within two feet – or one for that matter – of a moped since Afghanistan, but I’m pretty sure one could fit in my truck bed. Whaddya say, Mohan?”
Oh, sick. Thank fuck, that moped is fucking hers. Except– “What do I say to what?” she replies coyly. Sometimes you need to make a man work for it.
or,
Samira Mohan comes into possession of a moped. Jack Abbot comes into possession of Samira Mohan – or at least a few hours of her time. These two things might be connected.Bookmarked by eliabbot
04 Jul 2026