third eye opened with ur post about mohan getting very protective seeing her partner hurt. i love how u contrasted her unexpected defensiveness with abbot who is a kinda given protector. def made me think many mohabbot x reader thoughts that i would love to see u expand if you’re up to it! maybe r deals with a scary situation at work and before abbot can even begin to step in, samira is on that. leaving it very vague bc im sure whatever ideas you could conjure up would do more justice than i could lmao
Mohanabbot x fem! reader (Samira Mohan x Jack Abbot x fem! reader)
Summary: You get the rare chance to work with both of your partners on the same shift. Things go wrong, and then very right.
Word count: 1.6k
Warnings: 18+ CONTENT - minors DNI, talks of past smut, hints that smut occurs after the fic, violence towards reader, discussion of potential death from health issues, threats of violence or actions that could lead to death, probably medical malpractice but leave me alone, Mohan is badass I love her, probably not enough editing, idk it's not as intense as it sounds i think-
Notes: This... got away from me. I legit loved the prompt thank you for letting me talk more about this idea!!! I hope it lived up to your hopes and dreams! I did not edit this as much as I would have liked to so hopeful it's decent lol
Whenever you got the opportunity to work with both of your lovers, it was either going to be a good day or the absolute worst, with very little room for middle ground.
Jack Abbot worked the night shift. He enjoyed the simplicity of it, how the number of patients slowed, but the desperation seemed to surge. Most people would rather wait till morning to visit the ER unless they were on their deathbed. Those who did come in didn’t care if he was polite; they just wanted him to save their life. It was more familiar to the lives he had led before.
Samira Mohan could not be more different in that regard. She lived for the brief moments of connection, where, between all the pain and fear, she could provide a piece of herself to soothe them. In exchange, something warm would trickle into her chest, cradled safely between her ribs. The day shift gave her the chance to form those bonds.
Once, Jack had quietly asked Samira how she had so much of herself left after all this time to keep giving more away. He didn’t seem to understand why you both had looked so sad. That night, you slept curled up on top of him with Samira tucked into his side.
You switched between shifts on occasion, mostly filling in when the night shift needed you. Nursing was never easy; that didn’t change based on the time of day. It was about learning to live with your own wounds and trying to do enough to lessen the pain in the world. Call it God or karma or wishful thinking, humans will care for others and hope someone cares for them.
It was a result of that care that you met Samira, and shortly after, Jack. It was that ability to care that connected you all, allowed something as extraordinary as love to become familiar and safe.
The different schedules made things difficult, but you always managed. There were shifts where, only by happenstance, you all worked together. There were also shifts where you all worked together very intentionally, though urgent requests for extra staffing were rarely a cause for celebration.
Today, you got lucky. It was a coincidence that Samira was scheduled to pull a double before somehow managing to get three days off afterwards, and you had been placed on night shift for the last few weeks.
Jack seemed pleased, all dry humour and quiet support, nudging you both to stop and eat during the slower moments. You’d caught him placing a kiss on Samira’s forehead earlier as she leaned her weight against him.
Samira, on the other hand, was tired, though it was unlikely that anyone other than you and Jack could tell. The night was dragging on, slow enough that Shen had managed to finish his drink and attempt (and technically succeed) in smuggling Uber Eats in before 4 am. Finally, it was 6:30, with only half an hour left until the day shift would take over. You could go home, eat some leftovers (God bless Samira Mohan and her inability to control portion sizes when cooking- there were always extras), and pass out in a pile on the bed.
Maybe that’s why she responded the way she did. Maybe it was the quiet chaos of nightshift, infecting her throughout the night. Maybe it was because when Samira Mohan loved, she loved so intensely it burned. And tonight, it burned more than her.
A man, Joseph White, mid-40s, presented with chest pain, a rapid heart rate, and shortness of breath. Samira was on her towards the man’s room with his results.
You were already in his room, attempting to explain that yes, Dr. Mohan had placed a rush order on his results, she would be back soon, and you appreciated his patience. That, for his own safety, you could not give him more pain medication before his results came back.
Across the Pitt, leaning against the nurses' desk, Jack stared openly at the scene. He’d learnt early on that neither of you appreciated him trying to play hero if it wasn’t needed, though the message had yet to fully stick. It was a bit conflicting to scold a guy the whole way home and then drop to your knees the moment the door shut behind you, after all.
She was less than one step away from entering the room when it happened. Mr. White’s hand lashed out suddenly, gripping your wrist harshly. His mouth opened to speak- more demands, perhaps, or insults. You never found out, as Samira’s voice rang out cleanly.
She didn’t yell. She didn’t need to. The ER hushed.
“Approximately a hundred thousand people in America die from pulmonary embolisms every year.”
His grip loosened, allowing you to slip away, cradling your wrist with your other hand. You stepped back, angling your body slightly behind Samira. Across the Pitt, Jack was already moving towards you both, face dangerously blank.
Mr. White sputtered, “Excuse me?” as if Samira had asked him to go jump off the hospital roof. If Jack got to the bastard first, he was considering trying to personally assist the man in doing just that.
“They’re actually fairly common. Completely curable if caught early. But if you fail to get treatment in time, it will kill you. 1 in 4 people die before even knowing what is happening. They just drop dead. In their homes, on the streets, at work or the store.” She stared down at him, then cocked her head to the side. You’d never seen her look so calm, yet simultaneously furious. It should have been contradictory. And yet. “I’m grateful you came in today and allowed us to run tests. Now we can treat you.”
The room was still. Jack had reached you, now, but said nothing, simply tucking his arm around you and shifting you closer. Familiar warmth seeped through your scrubs and into your side.
“Pittsburgh Trauma Medical Center has a zero tolerance policy for violence and harassment. Those who break that policy can be refused treatment. The next nearest hospital is half an hour away, more with morning traffic.” Samira paused, then. She looked away from him for the first time to scan across your body, pausing where you still held your wrist. “As your doctor, I’d highly suggest we begin treatment now. It could save your life. But if you touch my nurse again, I will have you thrown out of here before you can open your mouth and start begging.”
Jack’s fingers twitch against your waist in perfect time with the breath hitching in your lungs. That shouldn’t be hot, right? You snuck a glance up at Jack’s face, and- Ah. At least you weren’t alone in your thoughts, even if he still looked rather murderous. Both expressions looked good on him. You forced yourself to focus back on the current situation.
“What will it be? Can we begin treatment, Mr. White?” You’d never seen Samira speak so long to a patient without smiling.
He was pale and sweating, though whether it was from pain, genuine fear, or some combination of the two was unclear. He nodded shakily.
Finally, Samira smiled. It was cold. “Great. A doctor from the day shift will be in momentarily to start your medication.”
With that, she spun on her heel and left the room. The three of you ducked into an empty room and slid the curtain shut. You’d barely made it inside when Samira’s lips were on yours, insistent and frantic. Her hands reached out and gripped your scrubs, almost lifting you off your feet. After a few moments, a shaky gasp escaped her. Then she pulled back. You slumped backwards into Jack, who held you easily.
“That fucking bastard-” You should be upset, right? Angry or scared. Definitely not turned on. Some wires must be crossed, somewhere. “I can’t believe he’d- god, I should’ve kicked him out regardless, how dare he-”
She caressed your wrist, hands gentle despite the harsh words. It would bruise, likely, but it was far from the worst you'd seen at the ER. It wasn’t even the worst you’d personally received. Jack shifted, his hands sliding around your waist and clutching you closer to himself.
“Samira,” You reached out with your other hand, holding her face in your hands, forcing her to look you in the eye. “It’s okay.”
Her whole body jerked in response, face twisted. “That was not okay,” Her voice lowered, as if her words alone could will it to become truth.
“Okay, okay, but I’m okay,” You tangled your fingers with hers while she continued to check your wrist, halting her movements. “I just want to go home.”
Jack’s voice rumbled out behind you, so close you could feel the vibration of his chest. “You two go meet me in the car. I’ll get Parker and Shen to handle shift change for me and be out soon.”
Usually, you’d both argue. Changeover was important. It could kill people if done incorrectly. But with the adrenaline still pumping and the shift practically over, it was easier than usual to let it go and trust the team had it handled.
By the time Jack made it out of the hospital, Samira had you in her lap in the backseat, and any of the leftover fatigue vanished. Jack slid into the driver's seat and turned to check on you both before cursing and starting the car with unusually shaky hands.
None of you would ever hear the end of it if you fucked in the parking garage, and car sex was not easy with 3 people. Behind him, a breathy whine rang out, followed by a coo from Samira as she clutched you closer.
