#challangers2024

Pt 2. | 1

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: 4.4K

𑣲. Warnings/content: MDNI 18+ ( bad explanation of tennis, reader is described to have hair long enough to put up, mentions of jacks late wife, smut lol, unprotected p in v, (wrap it before you tap it), not proof read.)

𑣲. A/n: This is my first ever attempt at writing spicy shit so like actually bear with me this time AHHH. Also, I apologize if Art is out of character.

After Tashi found out that one, Art was in Pittsburg and two, that he had sprained his ankle, she was basically giving him the silent treatment. 

A week at his dads house turned into three and eventually had turned into a month. The days were hot and the nights were humid. He had settled back into his old room, nearly forgetting he would eventually have to fly back to California. His ankle had healed and he was in good condition, passed off by his dad, to go back to practicing. 

Over this span of time, you had gotten to know Art. You noticed him coming back to the Pitt for different reasons. A follow up on his injury, a small thank you card for helping him, bringing his dads thermos, or just to speak in the small moments of calm. In between these visits you spoke about different things like how you were the first in your family to go to university, first to go into the medical field, and the oldest in your family. 

You also had found out why Art had traveled all the way to Pittsburg. Tashi had been on his ass about his shitty practices. He wasn't excited to play in the upcoming tournaments. It was starting to get suffocating and he just had to clear his head. He also made sure to clarify that he and Tashi were not a thing.

Shen and Mateo were the first few to tease you about the golden haired boy. “Looks like you still got it after all this time” Shen smirked, as if he hadn’t been the oldest of you three. There were few people who knew about your shitty dating life and they were two of them. You confided in them and spoke about how much of a fail your dates had been. 

With a job at the ER, it made it hard to develop a social life outside of your co-workers. Much less a love life. 

Maybe that was why you had developed a little thing for the pro tennis player in a short amount of time. Was it a little embarrassing? Yes. But, for Christ sake. Look at the man! He was built amazingly, when you spoke he listened. He’d ask a question if he had them or make comments if his dad had ever mentioned stuff related to the topic. He was like an endearing puppy.

So when he asked if you wanted to play a little game of tennis and you agreed? 

You couldn't have been happier. 

The courts had been baking in the Pittsburgh sun. A few people played on different courts and the sun now sinking behind the horizon and a beautiful mix of blue, orange, and pink began to paint the sky as night fell.

It was your day off and Art assured you he was going to make sure you didn’t regret spending your time with him. 

He was warming up when you arrived. His arms flexed beneath his fitted Stanford shirt. His shorts hugged his thick thighs. 

You walked up to him, clearly nervous but a smile remained on your face. Your spandex shorts hugged your hips and ass nicely, your smooth legs on display. Your simple tank top hugged your curves outlining your chest just right that it made Art's throat go dry. Your hair was styled out of your face. 

This was the body that had been hidden under your scrubs? Art wondered what it looked like beneath the clothes.

You gave him a small wave “Hey.” You halted in front of him “I hope I’m in the right attire” you gestured to yourself. 

Art didn’t waste time to let his eyes rake over you. 

“I go out for runs but that’s about it” you chuckled awkwardly 

“You’re good” he waved off “I don’t have my best clothes either” Art replied “have you stretched yet?” He asked “can’t have you get hurt either”

“Uh, yeah, I did. Figured I would have to do that.”

“That’s good,” he nodded. “I found two rackets in my dads garage” He walked to his bag and pulled out two rackets, one more childlike than the other. He handed you the one smaller one, watching how your soft hands wrapped around the base. His ears heated up.

“Wow, Jack kept these?” You looked up at him 

“I know, good luck for the both of us” Art chuckled. “So, do you know the basics?”

“Uh” You pushed a strand of hair behind your ear “I mean I know you have to hit the ball back and forth” you laughed nervously. You hadn't known an ounce of tennis or many sports for that matter. 

“Okay, I have some work to do” Art shook his head with the grin 

“In my defense, I spent half my time in college in classrooms and the other in my dorm,” you replied. You had barely any time to go out and have fun with friends. And you had spent your time as an undergraduate in hospitals. 

Art began to explain the rules. First, a coin toss, whoever won chose whether they served, received, or what side they wanted to serve from. Then came serving, hitting and rallying, etc.

You nodded your head as you listened, though your eyes occasionally trailed off to his jaw. Sharp. His blonde hair underneath his red cap, no doubt an old cap from Stanford. The bead of sweat that rolled down his temple from the heat and humidity of Pittsburgh. The grey Stanford shirt that clung to his biceps and pecks just right. His black shorts, which somehow seemed shorter and tighter than yours, displayed his toned legs. 

His voice brought you back from your thoughts 

“Sorry?” You replied sheepishly, afraid he’d caught you ogling him. 

“I asked if everything made sense” he chuckled as his beautiful blue eyes met yours. 

“Uh, yeah, no–definitely” you nodded 

After you two warmed up a little, you began to play. Art tossed the tennis ball against the floor catching it as it bounced back up to him, he caught it and placed it in the center part of his racket. He tossed the tennis ball into the air before hitting it to your  side.

Your legs shifted in place, eyes locked on the ball. You moved quickly, but not quick enough. The ball had hit the ground twice. You winced and blushed lightly with embarrassment. “Sorry” you said, picking up the ball. 

Art jogged up to the middle “Hey,  don’t worry. Let’s do a redo” you nodded and handed the ball back to him. Your fingers brushed against his. 

“Hold on” he dropped his racket, walking to your side. Art moved behind you as his hands moved to yours on your racket “If you put your palm against the bevel” His hands directed your dominant one down the neck of the racket, “Keep your fingers here,” his hands guided your fingers. 

His breath brushed against your ear, shooting a shiver down your back and a flutter in your chest “Should make it feel more natural” he said, his hands lingering for a moment before moving back.

He grabbed his racket from the floor and walked to his side. 

He repeated his movements, placing the tennis ball in the center of his racket before tossing it into the air and hitting the ball. 

This time, you reacted quicker as you held the racket in your hands how Art had instructed you to. The yellow fuzzy ball hit against the floor once before you hit it back to his side of the net. The ball landed close by allowing him to hit it back.

You twisted the racket in your hands, hitting the ball back and sending it to the corner of his side. Art grunted as he sprinted but failed to hit it.

You laughed in surprise. “Holy shit!” 

Art smiled over his shoulder, picking up the tennis ball “Wow, good job.” He tossed the ball to you. 

You caught the ball with your free hand “I hope you’re not going easy on me” You said as you walked to the back of your side. “At least try make me work for it”

“Yeah?” Art raised a brow, the corner of his lips curled up, “Is that what you want?”

You gave a nod. 

“I can do that” 

You bounced the ball announcing the score before you tossed the ball to his side, managing to aim it at the center of his side.

His racket hit the ball back to your side. The two of you starting to rally. Art grunted as he ran to hit the ball back towards you, the sweat now somehow making his shirt cling to his body even more.

Sweat dripped down your back and forehead as you panted lightly while you tried to keep up with him. 

He was pretty fucking good and he looked hot doing it too. The way his cheeks were red from the heat, his lips parting slightly as he concentrated, the way his thick fingers wrapped around the handle of his racket, and the sweat that traveled down his forehead and down his neck. 

Admittedly, you had also searched up some of his games. Learned he had played in the US open doubles with his friend named Patrick, who you had yet to find much of now. He was mesmerizing and talented. He seemed like he could give half his true effort and somehow still beat the other person in front of him. He kept his cool on the court. Wouldn't shout obscenities on the court and showed great sportsmanship afterwards, both equally hot. 

The ball landed on your side, bouncing on the opposite corner of your side. You ran, your racket reaching to hit but failed. Giving him a point. 

You let out a groan “I was doing so well”

“Come on, I know you can keep up” Art teased from his side, a grin on his face, flashing his white teeth. 

“I was” You replied as Art grabbed another tennis ball. 

You and Art were sitting on the benches near the court. 

You sat close enough that if you moved your thighs would brush against one another. 

“You’re like the real deal then” You turned your head to look at Art.

“The real deal?” He chuckled, his cheeks heating lightly. Though whether the source was your words or the heat, you couldn't tell. 

You nodded “Yeah, you went to a good school, played at a pretty impressive competition, went to Stanford, and now you're being coached by some tennis prodigy" You replied “Must be nice”

Art rubbed the back of his neck “I’m very thankful. My dad and my mom busted their asses so I could attend the same school as Patrick” 

You had no doubt that was true. You had learned what kind of person Jack Abbot was. Caring in his own way, a little headstrong, a great leader, resilient, and sometimes putting others over himself. Which is what made him such a good doctor and person. You imagined his wife was like that. 

“That's good. Means they love you” You nudged his shoulder lightly. You heard him let out a soft laugh “Have you always enjoyed tennis?” 

“Yeah.” Art nodded, smiling to himself “My mom actually got me into it”

“Really?”

“Yeah. She used to play in college. She used to be the captain of the team” Art's eyes softened as he spoke about his mom, his shoulders relaxing just a fraction. “She probably could have gone further, but she always said she loved teaching more than competing. She became a teacher, but when she met my dad she got my dad into tennis too” 

“She sounds great” You said 

“Yeah, she was” Art's voice was gentle, remembering his mother didn't bring that somber aching feeling in his chest anymore. It made appreciation and love swell. 

There was a moment of silence between you and Art. Nothing uncomfortable, you had gotten past that point. Rackets hitting tennis balls filled the background, cicadas spread out across the greenery of the public area. The lights of the park now on as the dark night sky spread above. 

Art cleared his throat as he looked at you “How did you get into emergency medicine?” 

You glanced forward. You gave a tiny shrug as you explained. It honestly wasn’t what you had originally expected to do. You had other plans that were different and more complicated in ways you didn’t want to think. 

But, after your father was rushed to the ER after an extreme accident, it brought a glimpse of the world of emergency medicine. The nurse who helped your father had been by your side the most she could be. Checking up on you as much as she checked up on your dad. 

The doctor had reassured you he'd do what he could to help your father. He had given you enough hope that your dad would make it. It helped you through the night which had seemed endless and it helped you now in your everyday life. Dedicating yourself to be like the same doctor who helped your father survive.

Had it not been for the doctor and the nurse, your dad would not be with you. Something inside you had switched. A calling you never thought would find you. You wanted to be there for people’s shittiest day and help them get through it however you could. 

“That’s…wow” Art said softly 

You gave a tiny chuckle, pushing hair behind your ear “maybe I’m dramatizing a little” ears heating up 

“No, I don’t think so. It’s a valid reason.” Art shook his head 

Your eyes met with his blue ones. 

They looked sharp and concentrated across the court. But, now, looking at them straight in front of you? They were soft, downturned, but understanding in a way you hadn’t felt in a while. He listened to your words thoroughly and hadn’t interrupted you. 

There was one more person who looked at you with that same understanding. 

His eyes flickered down to your velvet lips then back to your eyes. You couldn’t help but do the same.

The both of you turned slightly, your thighs pressing against each other. His hand slowly lifted to cup your cheek, holding slight hesitation until he realized you weren’t stopping him. “Can I kiss you?” He whispered, his rough hand brushed against your soft skin.

You nodded. Art leaned in and you met him in the middle. Your lips met. Moving slowly. His lips were soft and moving carefully. His tongue gently brushed against your lips asking for entrance. 

You sighed gently, giving his warm tongue entry. His tongue explored your mouth. You moaned into his mouth before you pulled away slowly when you heard people cheering on another court. 

His lips chased yours as you pulled away. Both of your eyes opened. “Sorry,” he murmured, “too much?”

You shook your head “No” you spoke softly. You glanced around before you pursed your lips. Hesitating. You probably shouldn’t say what you’re about to say. There should be boundaries, especially with the son of your attending. But the pooling in your stomach from just kissing his lips was hard to ignore.

“My place isn’t too far from here” you say, an open invitation. 

The second your door opened and the two of you walked in your lips found Arts. He kissed you with the same passion as before, this time a little harder. His hands resting on your waist as your arms draped around his neck. Your fingers finding his curls. 

You walked backwards towards your room, your back hit a wall gently. He pressed you against it, slotting his leg between your thighs. His tongue explored your mouth making you let out a moan. 

Art's hands moved from your hips to your sides, his fingers tracing the gentle curves of your body. He pulled away gently, nipping at your bottom lip before he began to kiss down your neck. “God, you’re beautiful” he whispered into your ear. 

You panted gently as he kissed your neck, finding the sweet spot and sucking gently on your soft skin. He pulled away before he could make a mark, his lips trailing downward “You looked so beautiful playing across from me” his voice was lower now. His hands moved down to your hips again. “I haven’t been able to get you off my mind” He whispered as he pressed his knee against your heat. 

You let out a soft moan, your hips instinctively rolling against his knee desperate for friction. 

“Christ” he whispered your name desperately, one hand dropped down to give your ass a squeeze “Wanna see how pretty you are. Will you let me? Please, sweetheart” he gave you his pretty puppy dog eyes. Obviously you couldn’t deny him.

You give a nod and Art lifted you up, guiding your legs to wrap around his waist before heading to your bedroom. Once inside, he laid you carefully on the soft satin sheets.

He took off his cap and kicked off his shoes before he crawled on the bed, his hands immediately finding the edge of your shirt “Gotta see what’s under this” he murmured. His hands tugged up on your shirt before tossing it to the floor. Your simple black lacy bra almost made him groan. It was embarrassing how little he’d seen of you and he could feel the tent in his shorts growing. 

His hands move quickly to remove your shoes, socks, and your shorts. Revealing the other half of your matching set. 

“Wear this for me, baby?” His hands ran up your thighs “Say you did” he looked at you with those captivating eyes. He slotted his leg between yours once again 

You nodded “Yeah” you whispered 

His fingers hooked around the waistband of your lace panties, pulling them down slowly. Revealing your glistening folds. Art let out a soft hum at the sight of you. “You’re so wet” he whispered. He trailed kisses down your neck once again, this time making his way down your chest, “Can take this off?” He asked, though his hands were already reaching for the back of your bra. 

You gave him a nod of permission and he unclasped the bra from your body and tossed it aside. The sight of your hard peaks made him strain against his shorts more. Art's lips resumed their way down your chest, kissing you softly between the valley of your breasts before he began to kiss his way to one of your peaks, wrapping his lips around your nipple. His warm tongue made you let out a soft moan. His free hand moving to play with your other one. 

You could feel yourself get more wet as he sucked on your chest and the way his hardened member pressed against your thigh. “Need to feel you” he pulls away from your nipple with a wet pop, his lips moving to the other one. His tongue swirled around your peak as he sucked gently. His other hand flexing around your breast. 

“When I saw you at the hospital” he pulled away as he trailed his mouth back up to your lips “I was so fucking jealous my dad was able to see you every night” his breath brushed against your lips “I had to make shitty excuses just to see you.” His eyes locked with yours “Did you like that? Did you like seeing me come in?”

Your eyes locked with his and you could have sworn your body squeezed around nothing. Of course you liked seeing him come in. It had been a while since any guy had shown any interest in you. Truthfully, after long fucking shifts you had let your brain drift off while you were in bed. 

“Yeah, I did”  

“I’m so happy to hear that" He whispered. 

His hand trailed downwards. His fingers brushed against your slit, making you shiver “Shit, Sweetheart.” He  murmured “Let me touch you, please.” He pleaded 

You buckled your hips, pressing yourself closer to him. 

Arts fingers gathered some of your slickness before his thumb found your bundle of nerves, rubbing small circles. Your head tilted back slightly. “You like that?” He asked, you nodded your head immediately.

He continued circling your clit before slipping one digit inside. Your warm slick walls inviting him in. He groaned as he pushed in another finger “you’re so tight.” 

Your back arched off the bed as his fingers began to move. His thumb brushed over your bundle of nerves again making you moan out his name. His fingers curl. “You sound so beautiful,” he whispers, his fingers picking up speed. You let out another cry as his fingers plunge in further, hitting that sweet spot over and over again.

“Fuck—Art!” Your legs spread, your body begging him for more. His fingers looked pretty thick around his tennis racket, in you? They filled and stretched you out nicely. 

You hear him let out a quiet whine as you squeeze around his fingers. His fingers curl as his thumb presses down on your clit. You gasp softly, your hips twitching at the stimulation. You could feel the coil in your stomach start to tighten. “Art—please—“ you moan

“Yeah? What do you want me to do?” He kissed your jaw “tell me, I’ll do it”

You swear those words could have just made you come right then and there. He was so desperate to please you and it turned you on so much.

“Faster” you gasp, his slow and gentle pace now didn’t seem like enough, your hips pressed against his hand.

Art didn’t reply but happily complied with your request, his fingers now faster. Your wetness making squelching sounds and allowing him to move with ease.

His thumb continued to circle your clit and before you could let out another sound, he leaned back down and connected his lips with yours. He groaned into your mouth.

“Art” you whined between kisses “I’m—so close” you said as your walls tightened around his fingers .

“I know—“ he cooed as he kissed you sloppily “Just a little more” he said as he felt you squeeze again “Come on, I know you can keep up”

You moaned as his pace picked up even more, the curling of his fingers made you tilt your head back against your bed sheets. 

“You look so pretty like this” Art whispered softly “so fucking pretty”

Your hips buckled as you squeezed his fingers once again, begging to let you come “please”you gasped

“Go ahead.” He said “I wanna see how pretty you look” he pecked your lips.

Your thighs clamped around his hand as you came, your walls squeezed his thick fingers like a vice. Art grunted, a wet patch appearing in his shorts “holy shit” he whispered as he drew out your climax. 

“Gotta be inside you, baby” he kissed your lips gently as he pulled out his fingers. “Can I?”

You gave him an eager nod. Art cleaned his fingers with his mouth and almost groaned at the taste of your sweetness.

He shifted on top of you, his hands tugging down his shorts, pulling down his boxers along with them. His thick member sprung out. He grabbed a pillow beside your head, putting it underneath your hips “That okay?” He asked softly as he grabbed your hips 

You nodded. 

He pumped himself a few times before he aligned himself with your tight hole. He pushed past between your puffy walls, his thickness stretched you out a bit more. 

“Stretched you out but you’re still so tight” he whimpered softly. His thumbs brushed slow circles against your hips. He pushed in further before he bottomed out. Both of you moaning. “Let me know when I’m okay to move” Art said as he kissed your cheek gently 

You were still sensitive from your previous orgasm and it didn’t help that you hadn’t had much action in a while. You could feel his hands squeeze your hips as he tried to hold himself back from moving.

 “Okay” you gave a nod as you met eyes with him. 

Art didn’t waste time to draw himself all the way out before he thrusted inside fully, setting a slow and steady pace. You moaned as he thrusted. One of his hands dropped from your hips and moved to circle the bundle of nerves making you squeeze around him. 

“God, sweetheart” he groaned, his pace picked up as he began to slam into you, angling his cock to hit your g-spot.

“Fuck! Art” you moaned, your back arched off the bed and your hands squeezed his biceps. 

“Like that, baby?” He grunted as he used his hand to tilt your hips upwards, letting him plunge deeper. You moaned in response.

That familiar feeling in your stomach returned “Art—so close” you whined as your hips began to push against him desperate to chase that feeling again.

“Me too—fuck me too” he groaned as he thrusted frantically, his pelvis hitting against you, his thumb still circling your clit. 

Before you could warn him you moaned. Your walls tightened around him gripping him as you came. Your toes curled. Art groaned as he thrusted into you desperately. “Want to come inside you” he moaned “can I?” He whined 

“Yes” you managed to make out. That was all it took for him to whimper out as he spilled himself into you. 

His lips found yours and kissed you desperately. 

Pulling away for air, Art slowly began to pull out slowly before he laid beside you.

The two of you panted as you tried to catch your breath. Sweat clung to your bodies.

Art turned his body towards you, his hand reaching for your hip, rubbing small circles with his thumb “you okay?” He asked

You nodded, turning your body towards him. Your hands found their way to the nape of his neck, playing with the blonde curls that were now clinging to his skin from the sweat. 

He turned his head, pecking your arm. He kissed up your arm, then your collar bone, up your neck, your jaw, and then a quick kiss on your lips before he nuzzled against your neck. “Did I do good?” he murmured.

You held his head close, hands running through his blonde hair “yeah” you murmured

Bliss slowly turned into realization. 

You just fucked your attendings son.

This was way out of bounds.