PROFESSIONAL HIMBO HUNTER

Just a heads up!

This is an 18+ blog, so minors dni!

I do take requests!

I also write nsfw to an extent.

~ Koi

masterlist under cut

prev / m.list

roommates with rabbot would include:

- weeknight takeout when all three of you are off. whoever pays get to choose the place.

- blackout curtains in every room.

- robby being your alarm clock.

"C'mon, kid. Gotta get up."

"Mmm five more minutes-"

"You said that ten minutes ago."

Robby moves to the foot of your bed, gently tugging at corner of your comforter. It was routine at this point. Wake up, get ready, take the shared car to work (or have you backpack off of Robby's motorcycle).

"Jack'll be home soon."

You burrow further into the bed, a muffled groan reaching Robby's ears as he lets out a sigh.

"We'll stop by on our way to that cafe you like before the hospital." That had you perking up from the comforts of your blanket cocoon.

"You're paying."

He shakes his head before exiting the bedroom, the smirk on his face a secret from you before muttering out something along the lines of

"'Course I am."

- updating jack and robby on the neighbors

- arguments

"You know he didn't mean it."

"Doesn't mean it didn't hurt."

The argument had started when Jack was about to leave for the hospital. A screaming match between you and his best friend, about Robby's inability to wear a helmet when he drives his deathtrap. Things was said, the dust had settled, and you're left with Jack in the living room while Robby fucked off to god knows where in the middle of the night.

You're curled up on the couch while Jack sat across from you, attentive despite running late to his shift tonight.

"Am I making a big deal out of nothing?"

"It's not you, sweetheart. It's just... hard for Mike to accept that someone actually cares for him like you do."

He could see your heart breaking into a million pieces, the tears that were sitting on your waterline now streaming down your cheeks. Jack has known Robby for years, knows how he operates inside and outside of work. Knows that he pushes away when his emotions get too intense.

Jack has had his fair share of spits with the man. Fight, silence, begrudging makeup.

But this was you. You, who actually talks about your feelings. Someone who's patient enough to deal with both of their quirks and bullshit, and still decides to stay. Who came into their lives (and in their homes), and changes them. For better or worse.

It scares him just as much as it scares Robby.

Jack reaches out to swipe at a stray tear before engulfing you in his arms.

"I'm scared something'll happen to him."

"He's not as reckless as before."

"Do you think he'd be offended if I slash his tires?"

"Sweetheart, you and I both know you're too good for that."

The weak laugh that reverberates into Jack's chest has him tightening his embrace while he murmurs sweet reassurances into your hair.

You two stay sat like this on the couch for a while longer until the front door swings open, revealing a slightly frazzled Robby and a sleek black helmet under his arm (the price tag is still dangling off the visor).

You're quick to jump up from your spot, movements unsure as you approach Robby. So much tension, and yet none of you are willing to break the silence.

Jack is standing up with a groan and grabbing his backpack off the floor. He moves to give Robby a firm pat on the shoulder, shoving him towards you and heading out the front door. "You two best be sorted out by the time I get back."

cont.

an: me scouring for one specific bird photo, learned a lot about the humble house sparrow.

p.8 bigback behavior

prev / next / m.list / p.1

summary: Grant finds himself a stray outside his restaurant. aka a little hurt/comfort

Grant lived to serve.

That was one of the first things he told you. His entire livelihood revolves around hospitality. Back in Boston, it was easy for the regulars and tourists to come in and ask for Grant in the back, making small talk with the man until he was desperately needed in the kitchen again. A constant back and forth, a dance if you will.

The waltz had followed him here to Pittsburgh, although the locals here were less pushy compared to the northeast.

"S'good?"

"Mmm"

You're sat perched on his desk, ramekin in lap while heartily munching away at a potpie he whipped up. One of the specials of the day, nothing fancy, just something to give you comfort cause god knows you looked like you needed it.

The restaurant was at its peak rush hour when Grant led you through the crowded floor, past the kitchen and into his back office. The curious eyes of his team (more family than anything) isn't lost on him.

Hell, when was the last time he entertained a passing fancy at his big ol' age? Maybe he was feeling spontaneous tonight, or maybe it was out of pity with the way you were listlessly standing out on the sidewalk.

"M'glad you like it."

"bussin'"

Bussin. Grant barks out a laugh. He heard one of his line cooks say that before, apparently it means good. Your generation has the strangest lingo. "Now you're just flattering me."

Even as the words leaves his mouth, Grant can't help but to watch as you lick the back of the metal spoon. Your demeanor has changed into something more relaxed, and your cheeks look full. Warm. Squishable.

A tinge of pride wells up inside Grant. He's served hundreds, thousands of people throughout his career. Yet watching you, in his safe space, savoring something he created...

"I'm sorry you have to see me like this. I'm usually more... put together." Grant furrows his eyebrows. Are you seriously apologizing? You literally save lives for a living, take care of others more than yourself huh, that sounds oddly familiar. "Today was rough, and usually I'd have a routine when I get like this, but..."

You hesitate, trailing your words off and shifting on his desk. The look on your face is one that Grant has seen before. On customers, on his team when a critic publishes an unsavory article about the restaurant, in the mirror late at night when his past comes back to haunt him.

"Honey, let me tell you something. As an ex-combat medic, no one who works in healthcare is 'put together'. One of the best in my old unit ran purely on nicotine and monster energy drinks." The snort he pulls out of you is loud and abrupt, it shifts the gloom in the air.

"Give yourself some grace. In a world like this, it doesn't need perfect, it just needs you. Whole, and flawed, and real." Your silence is enough of a response. He's been in your shoes, and how does that saying go about kindred souls? Grant takes the spot next to you, leaving little to no space at all while pressing his thigh against yours. The faint smell of antiseptic and sweat doesn't deter him from leaning closer, watching as your breathe hitches while his heartbeat quickens.

He's unable to look away.

"Listen, when you feel like the everything is too loud, and the weight on your shoulders is crushing that nuturing spirit of yours, just know that my door is always open, 'kay?"

Before Grant could overthink it, he reaches out to gather the crumbs on your bottom lip and pops the pad of his thumb in his mouth. Soft. Plump.

"And I wouldn't mind you around if it means having a competent nurse on standby."

You fluster so pretty. Those tired eyes coming to life and blinking in surprise, your fingers fidgeting with the now empty dish, a gentle smile shining through while giving him a shy nod.

"I need words, honey."

"Okay."

"Atta girl."

Oh, he'll make a regular out of you.

"Hope you saved room for dessert."

an: the concept of Jack calling you 'sweetheart', and Grant calling you 'honey'... 🧎‍♀️

p.7 malewife

prev / next / m.list

summary: Sleepy has an okay shift and paints the town red! not really

Halfway into your shift, you're sitting alone in the break room. The morning hadn't been too taxing on your part. Preparing patients for surgery, preforming blood draws, filling out discharge papers.

What better way to spend the rare time you have than with a-

"What's that?"

Looking up from the mess in front of you, Trinity and Javadi stood at the other end of the break room table, seemingly to escape today with their own lunch.

"wa's wot?"

"What're you eating?"

"... a sandwich??"

And a messy one at that. The fillings inside was spilling out from between a fluffy hoagie roll, a dribble of italian dressing running down the length of your pinky finger.

"No shit, Sherlock."

"With lettuce and tomatoes? Is that chicken-"

Javadi had managed to swipe a piece of cucumber that was about to fall on the paper bag beneath.

"Oi! Hands off."

"Where'd you buy it?"

"What makes you think I bought it?"

Trinity gives you a 'bitch, you better be joking' look before lightly scoffing. "Sleepy, I love you. But be so for real, you're shit at cooking. When was the last time you touched a cutting board?"

"Um..."

"Or a knife?"

"Probably-"

"Didn't you burn the paper of an instant noodles cup last week?"

"Is that why our microwave smells funny?"

Ok, maybe they had a point. Setting down the half eaten sandwhich, you go to reach for napkins. "Jack made it for me."

The two woman exchanged looks before turning their attention back to you.

"Jack made it for you."

"Yeah."

"He doesn't work today."

"He doesn't."

"So what you're telling me," Trinity slides into the unoccupied chair next you, nudging your shoulder and raising an eyebrow. "is that Abbot came in on his off day to bring you lunch?"

The question lands like a poorly timed grenade as you attempt to hide the heat spreading to your face, Javadi taking your moment of vulnerability to steal a bite of your food.

"... can you tell your malewife no peppers next time?"

The slowness of your shift didn't last long. Of course it didn't, you worked in a fucking hospital. At two, it was a patient that vomited on you. Around four, you had one of the residents yell at you because there was no rooms avaliable at the time. And what better way to end the day off than to prepare someones daughter in the hospital's viewing room.

Yeah, that last one definitely took a hit to your psyche.

Which is how you ended up here, aimlessly wandering the streets of Pittsburgh.

The post-shift haze hit hard tonight. Sure, you could've gone to the roof of the hospital to decompress, but it seemed pointless without a particular nightshift attending being there to help carry your burdens.

Of course there was Robby, but the last time he had joined you up there, the conversation could you even call it that if he was the only one talking? ended with an awkward side hug and an accidental "thanks, dad" from your mouth. neither of you have brought it up since

It was different with Jack. How he would offer comfort through his dark sense of humor "I saw you drinking a redbull earlier, you gonna test out those wings up here?"

When he stays close, close enough to feel his body heat but not enough to feel overwhelmed by his presence. (Sometimes, his hand would brush against yours atop the railing. Neither of you pull away.)

When he'd call you by your name, your real name and not just some stupid nickname that gets tossed around in the Pitt. (His voice drops low and quiet when he breathes it, in a tone that blurs the lines of your "professional" relationship and jumpstarts something inside you that you're too afraid to question)

"Hey"

Whipping your hanging head up straight, the sight of Grant catches you off guard. Oh, your feet led you to the front of his restaurant. Go figure.

"Hi... what's-"

"You never came back. To North & Vine."

"Oh... I'm sorry?"

The look Grant shoots has you immediately rolling back on your half-assed apology, regret and a hint of shame rippling off of you. "Shit, that came out wrong. I'm sorry. Work has been hectic, and I don't really have the green to be eating out-"

"Who said anything about spending money?" That has you tilting your head, confusion written all over your face.

He cards a hand through his silver curls, a crooked smile forming on his lips. "Shit, I thought it was because the food was bad-"

"No- no, it wasn't! It was genuinely one of the best meals I've had in ages!" You weren't giving him line a when you texted Grant that night. Heck, his restaurant was the only place you had in mind while thinking about dinner with Jack.

"You just got off?"

"Is it obvious?"

The throw up that stained the front of your scrubs should've given it away. Grant looks just as disheveled with oil splotches and smears across his white apron.

He doesn't respond for a moment before shaking his head, a low chuckle rumbling from his throat. "Right, c'mon." Before you could protest, his hand finds its place on the small of your back while leading you into North & Vine.

an: this could've been two separate chapters, but I was eager lol 🫶 enjoy

ex. 1 fork found in kitchen

prev / next / m.list

summary: a glimpse into Sleepy's work life just a bunch of unserious bullshi

an: kinda in a slump this week, so I made this! I swear I'll have a real chapter out soon

p.6 big & greedy

prev / next / m.list

summary: dinner comes to an end and relationships blossom

p.5 birthing hips

prev / next / m.list

This... is not how Jack was expecting the night to go. Well, sort of.

A late night dinner, he anticipated. A fifteen minute walk from the hospital to North & Vine, save from the two minute rest stop since his leg was killing him, he also anticipated. Tucked in the corner of Filbert and Walnut street, sitting across from you.

You, who doesn't really have friends outside of work. You, who behaves a little differently when he's in the room. You, who followed him out of your shift like a lost puppy off a leash. You of all people- God, it was all too good to be true.

And it was.

Because squished into their booth (that was actually meant for four) sat four of Robby's spawns, excitedly looking over the restaurant to even realize the brewing tension between you two.

Had he been too nonchalant about the offer earlier? Did the implications fly over your head? Is that why you invited others into the mix? In any case, here he was, stuck between Santos and Whitaker while you were sandwiched between Javadi and King.

Yeah, definitely not how he expected this night to unfold.

At least you seemed comfortable. Leaning your head against Mel's shoulder as she and Victoria prattled on about appetizers. The bags under your eyes looked heavier tonight as you scanned the menu aswell, a sleepy smile etched onto your lips while listening to the four debate fries and mozerella sticks.

Have you been getting enough sleep? Of course not, hence the nickname that stuck all these months. Jack wonders a bit on what keeps you up on the off hours, or who keeps you up.

Your orbs meet Jack for a short moment, the smile on your face widening into something warmer before lifting your hand to give him a shy wave. Oh how he'd like to have that smile reserved just for him. You haven't even spoken a word to him since the hospital, and yet here he is, blushing like a little schoolboy.

"See something you like, Abbot?" Santo's tone is not lost on him as she nudges the menu toward him. Despite this, his gaze never wavers while flashing a smirk. The longer he stared, the more your cheeks resembled his own.

"Yeah, I do."

"I see you brought the whole wagon with you tonight, Abbot."

All heads turn to the front of the booth where Grant stood, tall and proud while sweeping over each and every person at the table. Had his eyes linger on Sleepy a second longer than everyone else? Jack was the only one to notice.

"Drinks?"

an: ok, we're finally getting somewhere lol. Now typing my drafts in my notes bc my tumblr keeps randomly crashing 😮‍💨

p.4 stalking

prev / next / m.list

"Still with me, Sleepy?"

The deep rumble in his voice jolts you up from your phone screen, eyes wide and alert while you hastily cast aside the device on the desk. Caught like a kid in the cookie jar. "Yeah- yeah, no just reviewing charts and I'm off to Lena for handoff."

Jack's eyes narrow at that, not at all convinced before his attention flickers down. "Really? Seems to me that someone was curious about my friend the other day." Damn, did he really have to call you out like that? A heavy hand drapes over the back of your chair, the man leaning a little too close to comfort. That familiar scent of mens body wash with a hint of sandalwood fills the space between you two. "Can't blame you, He's got that look that could catch anyones attention."

Bitch he literally has your face-

"God forbid a girl do some light stalking." A self-deprecating laugh bubbles out before you can stop it, chin tucked and metaphorical tail between your legs. From what you've skimmed in countless articles online, Grant was an up-and-coming chef that started North & Vine in Boston and branched out. A real family style restaurant, loved by the locals and made it's way down to lil ol' Pittsburgh.

"Is that what you kids are calling it nowadays?" The corner of Jack's lips tug, clearly entertained by your reaction. Was he doing this on purpose? Does he know the effect he has on you right now?

"C'mon, finish up with your charting. It's been a long day." His hand from earlier moves to give the back of your neck a gentle squeeze before pulling away. His touch is enough to send flutters to your chest. "I'll treat us to dinner."

It takes all of Jack to not tease as you perk up from your embarresment, giving him an eager nod before your attention swivels back to the forgotten monitor in front of you.

an: so many directions i can take with this series, my brain is indecisive 🫩 enjoy this shorty!

p.3 monkey brain

prev / next / m.list

an: I spent waaaaay too much time on that fake ahh times cover ☠️☠️ aslo, I have a taglist now! ^^

p.2 hook up

prev / next / m.list

"Alright Mr. Reilly, what seems to be-"

Wide albeit weary eyes lift up to the sight of... Jack? No, not quite your night shift attending. Someone who's just Jack shaped...

Huh?

With a shake of the head, your attention flicks down to the clipboard. "Ahem. sorry. What seems to be the problem. sir?"

The older man in front gives you a once over before letting out a sigh, his posture slumping forward on the hospital bed. "Kitchen accident" is all that's grumbled out before he's holding his left arm out, skin swelling and blisters already starting to form at the wrist. "Slip of an apprentice's hand and whoosh- oil splatters everywhere and I'm the one to pay for it."

Watching him dramatically flailing his good arm around as he explains the situation, you're barely able to mask the chuckle that escaped your throat with a half-hearted cough. A glint of amusement shines through the irritation in the man's eyes at the slip up on your end.

"I take it you're used to these sorts of accidents?" Fingers gently wrapping around his upper forearm, you take note of the bulging muscles while further examining the extent of his injury. "Comes with the job." Oh? That explains the funny looking jacket and the smell of spices that starting to permeate the sterile room. He's a chef

"Well, I'm glad you decided to come in before it got worse. Most patients like to wait until their skin starts to peel off-"

Seriously? What a way to reassure a patient on their condition.

Tentatively glancing back up to meet his gaze, you're met with the same amused look from before, albeit softened by the crinkle at the corner of his eyes and- God he seriously looks like Jack, it's almost uncanny. Down to the stubble on his face, to the salt and pepper curls of his hair.

"Everything alright, doctor?" Despite yourself, a heat creeps up to your cheeks, moreso over the mistaken title rather than the teasing lilt in his tone. "Oh no, I'm not the doctor. He'll be in here soon enough."

As if on queue, the sliding doors hiss open, followed by the appearance of Jack, and the room goes pin drop silent.

"Well... ain't this a surprise."

an: dennis catching strays lol. gonna try to flesh out sleepy's relationship with jack a bit more in the next chapter

p.1 mountains out of molehills

next / m.list

an: something short to kick off this series ^^ i have no real direction with this, so bear with me on the updates

a jack abbot x reader x grant reilly smau (ft. the pitt)

summary - it's bad enough you have to deal with the night shift attending breathing down your neck every chance he gets, now you're under the radar of a cute new chef working a couple blocks from PTMC.

cw: afab reader, unspecified age gap, nurse!reader is kinda loser coded lol, reader is sometimes referred to as sleepy, slice of life, medical inaccuracies, possible ooc characters, multiple pov, update as the story progresses :)

this is my first ever attempt at a smau fanfic, so feedback is greatly appreciated ^^

☆ moodboard

p.1 mountains out of molehills

p.2 hook up

p.3 monkey brain

p.4 stalking

p.5 birthing hips

p.6 big & greedy

ex. 1 fork found in kitchen

p.7 malewife