#artdonaldsonxreader

Pt 1. | 2

𑣲. Pairing: Jack Abbot x Fem!Reader X Abbot!Art Donaldson

𑣲. Summary: Escaping the stress of the upcoming tennis fall season and grueling practice, Art travels to Pittsburgh to clear his head and spend some time with his dad. In some turn of events he meets you, the PTMCS night shift first year resident. Who also happens to be Attending physician Jack Abbots favorite. Not that he will ever admit he has any favorites. Will the young talented tennis player prevail or will the older hardened doctor be the one to get the first point at your heart?

𑣲. Word Count: 3.6K

𑣲. Warning(s): not proof read

𑣲. A/n: I’m super excited to see how this goes. Like I mentioned, I am super rusty, I haven’t written fanfics in a while so please be patient with me! Also, I am not familiar with the medical or tennis field! I apologize if hey are OOC at any point

݁To say his summer was going pretty shitty was a little bit of an understatement. Tashi was making him bust his ass after becoming his coach. They had reconnected and Tashi had hinted at becoming his coach. Who the hell was he to refuse one of the best tennis players he knew? Art knew it was important to be ready for the upcoming fall season. After all, the games weren’t going to win themselves. He had finally gone pro and shitty backhands were not going to cut it. Or that’s how Tashi put it. 

He understood it came from a place of care. Or love? Maybe that’s what he was hoping for. After all, their reconnecting had lead to something.

Something that wasn’t exactly defined, but it was something.

But, part of Art knew that it came from wanting to make him achieve what Tashi knew she should have achieved. She was a damn good player. And if she wasn’t going to be able to compete and sweep the floor with the other players? She would sure as hell make sure someone else did. Art always liked to please rather than upset. That seemed to be biting him in the ass.

Which is why he needed to leave for a while. Maybe a few weeks? The rest of the summer? He wasn’t quite sure. All he knew was that this was becoming suffocating and if he couldn’t perform well in his practices, he wouldn’t be any better on the court. 

Besides, he was a grown man. He could do what he wanted right? A quick travel to Pittsburgh would do the job.

He knew Tashi would be upset. She’d be upset in that quiet way. That felt scarier when you couldn’t read her face. She’d pretend she didn’t care because she knew that’s what always got to him. Seeking her validation like a lap dog. 

And just like that Art packed his shit and slept for a while before he headed to the San Jose airport. 

By the time Art arrived it was 12am. Rain tapped lightly against the windows. His uber drove through the city, which never seemed to sleep. He knew that not because of the cars in the streets, but the shit his dad had to deal with while working as an Attending Physician at Pittsburgh Trauma Medical Center. 

Art could not remember when his dad started working there. It was a while before his mom passed. Now? It kept him moving, kept him from thinking too long and from sinking into the darkness that had caught the two of them after they lost their favorite person. 

The car came to a stop in front of Jack's place. Art thanked the uber, promising a 5 star review, before he stepped out and grabbed his bags. The light in the living room was on, his dads truck still in the driveway. 

Arts sneakers tapped against the concrete as he walked up to the familiar house. It looked the same since he left for Stanford at 18. Now in his 20s and it hadn’t changed dramatically. The garden looked well cared for and fuller than he remembered. 

He gave a quick knock, waiting. The oak door opened and there stood his dad in all glory. His same black scrubs, a white t-shirt underneath, and his rugged sneakers. His hair accumulated more salt streaks in his once dark curly hair. 

“Right on time” Jack smirked as Art took a step closer 

“Hey, Dad,” Art said, pulling Jack into a tight embrace. “How are you?”

“I’m good” Jack pulled away, studying his son “Tennis doing you well. Come on in” Abbot moved aside for Art to step in,

Art took a small inhale of that familiar home scent. Coffee grounds, cedar wood, something sweet, and the vague smell of antiseptic that clung to Jack after his shifts.. One he’d missed during his first year of college more than he’d like to admit. 

“I gotta head out. Told Shen I’d be a late," Jack glanced at his watch “but, your room is all set so you can just head in there and crash. I got some leftovers in the fridge if you’re hungry.”

Art nodded 

“See you in morning, kiddo” Jack ruffled Arts hair before he grabbed his backpack and headed out to his car. The front door clicked as it closed behind him.

Art glanced around. The inside of the house hadn’t changed much either. Maybe a few more pictures of himself than before. His first day at Stanford. Him and Patrick at the US Open. He headed to his old room and dropped his bag beside his bed. He flopped down to the bed and that familiar clean detergent smell drifted him to sleep.

Jack headed to The Pitt, starting another night shift. 

You had been catching up with the patients that remained from the day shift. An older woman who had come in from a nursing home complaining about stomach pain. You nodded as Whitaker caught you up, looking at the charts. Dennis wrapped up before heading to the lockers. The day shift had been exhaustingly busy, but when was The Pitt not busy? A car pile up had set them behind and they were finally wrapping up on their other patients.

The fluorescent lights beamed above you, the smell of antiseptic began to familiarize itself with you again the way it usually did each shift. The monitors and their beeping had become somewhat of a white noise to you now. Your first year of residency had been overwhelming to say the least, but your fellow co-workers made you feel at ease. 

As a student doctor you had the opportunity to work both night and day shift. In which you quickly realized, working nights were much much better. You had always been a night owl and hated waking up early. But, also, Dr. Robby was extremely demanding in a way you weren't sure you would be able to satisfy.

You stood by the nurses station, your hip against the counter as you vaguely listened to Princess and Perlah talk about Princesses failed date. Heavy footsteps made their way toward you. Your attending walked in, his hand on the strap of his backpack as his eyes found your figure.  His shoulders were still up in that straight and confident way they always were, but there was a slight easiness in his step. 

“Making fashionably late entrances now?” You hummed as you looked up from the tablet in your hands. 

“I wouldn’t say it’s fashionable at all” John quipped from behind Jack. His hand around his plastic cup full of syrup, milk, and coffee, 

Abbot rolled his eyes at Shen before he headed to the lockers to put his backpack away. Coming back after a few minutes.

“What do we have?” Jack asked, looking at you. You extended the tablet to him.

“83-year old woman who came in complaining about stomach pain. Tender on her upper right quadrant. Nausea.” You replied “Ultrasound showed her walls thickening and a buildup of fluid.” You added 

“Lab work?” Abbot asked you as he studied at the ultrasound.

“Still waiting on that, Whitaker ordered a CBC and LFTs” you answered. 

“Good” the older man gave a nod.

“I got you coffee” you said as Jack handed you back the tablet. You took it and rested it on the counter of the nurses station.

“What’d you do that for?” Jack rose a brow.

You gave a shrug “I was stopping at the coffee shop, figured it would be nice. Besides, I already owed my other attending a coffee.” You and Jack both watched as Shen walked into the room with Mel while he held his Dunkin' cup. “What’s another one?” You gave him a small smile. 

“You know I don’t like that sugary syrup shit Shen drinks like water” Jack chuckled as he shook his head 

You gave a nod “I know. You like your coffee black” 

There was a look of surprise in his eye that you could have easily noticed if you hadn’t looked at him. “Thanks” he said with a gruff voice, his eyes lingering more than necessary before he glanced away "I'll pay you back"

“Don't worry about it" You waved it off "It’s in the break room” you nodded towards the break room before heading to look for the lab results. 

Your shift went by surprisingly smooth, although some people would advise you to never say that out loud. Ellis would personally smack you if she heard you say that. Something about karma or jinxing it. 

Your feet ached, but now you had gotten used to it. The first year of residency was no laughing matter, you had quickly learned that. Also, you had shitty shoes and had been postponing buying new ones since bills came first. First year resident struggles, right?

Walking to your locker you were surprised to see your attending grabbing his stuff too. “Wow, you’re going home on time?” You asked as you put in your locker combo a few lockers down. 

“My sons in town” Jack gave a small shrug as he put one backpack strap around his broad shoulders.

“You have a kid?” You looked at him with surprise. He never mentioned anything about that. You knew about his wife, you never asked more than he would tell, so maybe it shouldn’t have been surprising to hear he had a son. Still, considering he never said anything about him made it a surprise.

“Yeah” he gave a nod “why is that surprising?”

“Well—I don’t know” you let out a small chuckle “you’ve just never said anything about having a son,”

“Never asked” Jack replied simply 

Well, he got you there. 

You pulled your jacket out along with your backpack as you spoke again “You taking time off to spend it with him?” You asked

“Yeah” the salt and paper haired man answered.

“Leaving on time and taking time off. Look at you” you smiled 

Jack rolled his eyes, you could see the corners of his lips twitch upward threatening to turn into a smile. “I’ll see you around” he stuffed his phone in his pocket 

“See you” you put your jacket on before adding “If you need some nice tourist spots I’m more than happy to help.”

Jack shook his head and walked off  “goodbye” he muttered your last name.

You wondered what his son looked like. Did he have the same striking eyes like Jack? The same confidence? Did he carry that same gruff exterior or was it something softer and gentle? As much as you hate to admit, Jack was attractive. You would never admit that to anyone. Mostly because of the gap between you two. Also because he was your attending for gods sake. 

That was enough reason to not act on your childish feelings. 

Besides, there was no way he’d been into you, right?

It had been maybe a week or so since Jack had mentioned his son, long forgotten in your mind after helping countless people in the ER. 

The doors in triage open, a panicked college student hurrying in with a blonde haired guy. His hand around the guy's torso, his arm around his shoulder.

You set down the tablet you were looking at and hurried over “hey—hey” 

“I—we were playing a tennis match. I think he landed wrong. I—I didn’t know if it was broken so I came here.” The guy said 

“Okay” You nodded, thanking a nurse as she brought over a wheelchair. They helped the blonde onto the chair. He groaned softly as he sat down. “Friends?” You looked between the two.

The two shook their heads. 

“Okay, uh, what’s your name?” You looked at the blonde.

“Art” the blonde muttered as he shifted in the chair 

“Okay, Art.” You introduced yourself before you began to steer him into a free room “we’re gonna check you out.” The other guy and the nurse followed behind. 

You pushed the curtain aside before stopping the chair by the bed. Locking the wheels on the chair, you looked at the blonde “Can you put your weight on it?” 

Art tried to stand up, grunting as he attempted to put weight on his left foot before he slumped in the chair “Kay, no.” You muttered, you looked over at the other guy “uh—“ you waited for his name 

“Mathew” he said 

“Mathew, help me get him on the bed please” Mathew nodded and immediately helped you get Art on the bed.

“Is—am I okay to go?” Mathew asked afterwards 

“Yeah, I can take it from here. Thank you” you smiled 

“Good luck, Dude” Mathew turned to Art, extending his first to him 

“Thanks, man. I appreciate it” Art bumped his fist with Mathew. 

After Mathew walked out, you glanced at Art.

“Is it just your left leg?” You asked as you applied sanitizer and slipped on gloves.

“My left foot” Art replied 

You gave another nod “okay, I’m gonna take a look alright? I’ll have to remove your shoe, is that okay?”

Art nodded, his eyes glued to your face. Taking you in. 

God, you were beautiful. The curve of your face. The color of your eyes. Your lips. The way you spoke oh so gently to him. Tashi would speak softly to him, but not like this. You spoke to him like you cared. Which, you probably did, it was your job. Still, it stirred something in his chest.

You took his shoe off gently, Art hissed at the pain but didn’t ask you to stop. Next was his sock before his foot was revealed. His ankle was swollen, very faint blue and purple bruising began to paint his skin. “I’m gonna touch your foot now, tell me where it hurts the most” 

Your fingers gently tested the inside of his ankle. “How’s that?” You glanced at him

“Hurts” Art responded 

Your hand moved to the outside of his ankle. His foot jerked slightly, wincing without any added pressure “Sorry” he muttered 

“No worries. Hurts more there?” You asked 

Art gave a nod 

“Okay” You tossed your gloves in the trash. “Any past injuries to this foot?”

“No”

“Any allergies to medications?”

“Nope”

She glanced at the nurse “Let's get him an ice pack for his foot and some acetaminophen for the pain.” She looked back at him. “It’s looking like a lateral malleolus sprain. We'll take an x-ray of your ankle to be safe.”

The nurse stepped out as you turned to the computer across the room. Submitted notes and ordered an X-ray.

“So..” you trailed off as your eyes scanned his name. Art Abbot Donaldson. Huh. So, this was him? You might've not guessed considering Art's golden hair. “You were pretty lucky Mathew brought you here considering that the two of you are strangers ” You looked over your shoulder at Art.

Art gave a tiny chuckle “yeah.” He rubbed his neck nervously.

“So, you were playing tennis” You asked as you turned your body to face him. 

“Yeah. He had a mean underhand, hit it across from where I stood. I sprinted towards it but my foot didn’t cooperate”  Art explained

You nodded, adding that to his notes.

“Is it a hobby or…?” You inquired 

“I play professionally” Art answered “Used to play for Stanford”

Stanford? Holy shit.

“Stanford…wow” you gave a slow nod, “they’re—I’ve heard their teams are pretty good. You must be good then if you’re a pro. Definitely better than me”

“Some would say, yeah” Art chuckled as he kept his eyes on you

“You must be smart too.” You added “It's a tough school to get into” 

“I do good for myself” the corners of his lips curled upward.

Brains and definitely brawns. 

You could see Abbot in Art. Maybe not the hair. But the similar striking eyes, the curls of his hair, pretty cute smile, his defined jaw, and the same broad shoulders, 

But, he was definitely softer. Maybe not physically, but something about the way he held himself up. Not in a cocky way, but in a way that brought your attention to him without needing to do anything. Or maybe it was sweetness in his tone or those eyes that almost made you pity him like a puppy on the side of the road.

What the fuck were you saying? 

“Maybe I could teach you some time” Arts sweet voice interrupted your thoughts.

“Uh—” you cleared your throat “sorry?” The tips of your ears heated up. 

“Maybe I could teach you a few tricks to help you improve” Arts eyes gave you a once over before meeting yours

You swallowed nervously “Oh, I’m no good at tennis—or any sport in general” you chuckled awkwardly 

“You could be” Art held your gaze.

Your eyes peeled away and focused back at the computer. 

Emergency contact: (Father) Jack Abbot (xxx)-xxx-xxxx

“Look, it says here your emergency contact is—“ you began 

“I was wondering how long you would stall on that” Art chuckled lightly “Yeah, that’s the same Jack Abbot that works here.”

“Right. I’ll have to tell him” You looked back at him “that you’re here, I mean”

“I know,” Art sighed, “he’s not going to be happy.” 

“I thought you were sleeping” Jack muttered as he examined his son's foot after taking a look at his X-rays. Sprained, thankfully only a grade one sprain. 

“I was—“ Art paused “I was trying to” he said “but—Tashi texted me and I had to clear my head”

Tashi? Maybe a girlfriend?

“So you went to play tennis at what? 2 in the morning?” Jack huffed as he looked up at his son 

“Sports are a healthy way to relieve stress” you interjected trying to keep peace between the father and son.  

Jack looked over his shoulder and gave you a look that said don’t back him up. 

“I landed wrong while I was sprinting toward the ball.” Art said as he shifted on the bed. 

“You’re not going to be able to play tennis for a least three weeks—“

“Sometimes just one” you interjected once again

Jack glanced at you “most of the time it’s three weeks” Jack tossed his gloves in the trash

“I know”

“Then I would appreciate it if you seemed a little more concerned considering you have competitions coming up” Jack crossed his arms 

You walked over and handed Art his ice pack

“Dad, I came here to get a break from Tashi and tennis,”  Art responded, taking the ice pack from your hand and placing it on his ankle which now rested above a pillow.

Jack let out a tiny sigh, his face visibly softeningt. 

“I know, kid” Jack replied “I’m sorry.” He glanced at you. 

“Well–to ensure you heal correctly, I advise you to follow R.I.C.E. Rest, ice, compression, and elevation.”  You explained “Avoid any activities that may worsen your injury, use an ice pack for about 15 to 20 minutes, compress your foot with a bandage and keep your foot elevated” 

“I can give you a roll of bandages which should help you get through at least one week. I’ll get you some crutches too” you added 

Art nodded as he listened to you attentively. 

“Need me to drive you home?” Jack glanced at Art. 

“No, I should be fine with the crutches,” Art answered.

“I’ll get you an uber then”

“We’ll get you discharged” you gave a smile between the two before you walked out. 

“I’ll come let you know when they’re here” Jack said to Art before he followed behind you. 

Walking to the computers you sat down. 

Slowly typing, you saw Abbot from the corner of your eye lean against the counter 

“He plays professionally, huh?” You looked up at Jack.

His eyes moved from the room his son was in to yours. That soft and tender look remained as he looked at you, sending a small shiver down your spine. 

“Must be proud” you added 

Jack gave a nod "He's always been a skilled kid” something warm laced his voice that hadn't been there before.

“Do you play?” You asked, tilting your head at him. 

Jack almost let out a laugh. “I hate golf”

“Tennis” you corrected “Do you play tennis?” 

He took your question in. Not responding immediately. Debating internally whether he should answer truthfully or not. Jack gave a quick shrug “used to”

You perked up in your chair, smiling at his admission "oh yeah? like in the dark ages?," you teased “Are you any good?” you added

“Wow did you learn that from Joy?" He shook his head "I was. Probably not as good as my kid.” Jack answered 

“What about now?” 

Jack raised a brow at you. 

“I mean—I know it’s not as thrilling as going out with the SWAT team” you shrugged “but, it’s definitely more adrenaline inducing than golf” you replied 

“I haven’t played in a while. Not since my leg.”

Your eyes couldn’t help but flicker down to his prosthetic leg that hid beneath his black scrubs before they flickered back up to meet his “Bet I could beat you” you gave a small smirk 

That made Jack let out a low chuckle “you?”

“What? Don’t think I can?” You said in a challenging tone 

“Dunno working in the ER is one thing, playing tennis is another thing” 

“I have amazing stamina” You replied “Maybe if I take up your sons lessons I could be pretty good” you stood 

“My sons what?” Jack straightened 

“Yeah” you began to walk to the supply closet “he offered to teach me. I might just take him up on that offer." You paused "After he's fully healed of course” you finished before walking away. 

Jack watched as you walked away. 

Jesus you were something else.

You made him feel things that he knew he shouldn't because he was quite literally your boss. But, the way you spoke to him so effortlessly? The way you teased him like there was nothing wrong with it. The way your eyes looked back at his and held his gaze?

It made him wonder if maybe you felt it too?