PlanetFestFuel
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He was meeting someone. And he was genuinely excited about it. He had been messaging a woman for weeks anonymously, and he was thrilled to admit they had real chemistry. It didn't erase the pull he felt for the R-3 standing next to him, but he was excited to make a connection.
"Well, I won't keep you. I'm just waiting,” she said.
"No trouble at all, Mohan." He glanced down at his phone and sent off a message.
(20:26) I'm here. By the bar. Blue sweater.
He heard the familiar ping that meant a message had been received from the app. He glanced back at his phone, but there was no message for him. Instead, Samira was looking down at her phone. Then back to him. Then to his sweater and then his face again. Her already large brown eyes doubled in size.
Jack felt realization wash over him. Shit.
Bookmarked by PlanetFestFuel
07 Oct 2025
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She eyes the prickly hair on her shins that’s just growing back in, trying to decide if it’s visible. Unfortunately, it most definitely is, and she lets out an annoyed noise as she gracelessly toes off her shoes again, a bit more violently than she might if she wasn’t as frustrated. Because there goes the outfit she chose. A yellow sundress that falls down to just above her knees is not exactly known for covering up her legs, after all.
This is what she gets for falling asleep mid-case study.
Or:
Samira and how her relationship with her body hair changes.Bookmarked by PlanetFestFuel
29 Sep 2025
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Jack Abbot was very clearly not the kind of guy that Samira Mohan was into.
Which was fine. There was a whole laundry list of reasons that women didn’t flock to Jack Abbot. He was too short: women expected alphas to be taller. He was approaching fifty. He had a job he was completely dedicated to that did not lend itself to a normal sleeping cycle— or a normal life, for that matter. He had one factory-model leg and one titanium and carbon fiber aftermarket fix for a right-side BKA he’d undergone in Germany. He was chock-full of C-PTSD and anxiety and depression and maladaptive coping mechanisms that ten years of therapy had finally put a slight dent in. He had a wife named Maggie who’d been dead for almost seven years. And he hadn’t had sex in those seven years, apart from the handful of emergency DRIs he’d been able to help with here at the Pitt.
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Abbot is the Pitt's emergency contact for designation-related incidents.
Mohan doesn't quite know how she feels about that.
Until, one day, she finds that she needs him.Bookmarked by PlanetFestFuel
23 Sep 2025
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Samira Mohan is in need of husband to ensure her family's future.
Jack Abbot is in need of a wife to ensure his family name continues.
Can they be who the other needs?Samira returns to society to make that happen. But unfortunately scandal finds her first and she is left with no prospects. That is until Jack Abbot volunteers to help, after all this is his fault.
Bookmarked by PlanetFestFuel
09 Jul 2025
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It started on a park bench…
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Bookmarked by PlanetFestFuel
30 Apr 2025