Bob Hughes X Reader - Blog Posts

⋆ ˚ ｡ ⋆୨୧ playground love

— bob hughes x art-therapist!reader (pt.1)

song 𝄞 playground love by air + gordon tracks

warnings: language

"this is so fuckin' stupid" Bob muttered to himself repeatedly as he walked down the soft white halls of the rehab clinic, slapping a piece of folded paper in his hand over and over.

inside the piece of paper contained a manuscript of his information as well as his sponsor and their personal request to send him to the recovery session that he was headed to now. what was the recovery session? art therapy.

when he first heard the words, he had no idea what it mean. he had heard of therapy before but always thought that it was a load of bullshit, though he only ever though of it that way when he was strung up as he believed that drugs were the solution to every mental health problem he's ever had— it's why he turned to them in the first place.

but the idea of doing art as a form of therapy sounded even faker. art can't solve your problems, only distract you from them he thought to himself.

but, he had made that promise to god that he would get clean if he was able to get that poor girls body into the ground without getting caught. and he had stuck to that promise.. so far.

he looked into the clear window of the door that led to the art room. he looked around and saw people sitting in front of easels and canvases, paint sitting beside them on little tables as they cleaned their brushes in water and sketched their ideas with charcoal pencils.

from the looks of it, there were only patients in the room and no teacher. with furrowed brows, he knocked on the door.

everyone looked up at him, a person in the front row looking to their side as if someone was talking to them before nodding their head and walking over to unlock the door.

"hey is there a Mrs.-" bob began, but was cut off when he saw a beautiful girl standing in the middle of the room. you looked up at him with a welcoming smile, one that made him feel warm. he looked at you up and down, studying your flowy boho skirt that stopped just above the floor, your cropped white front tie top stained and covered in paint.

you had turned around at the sound of his deep, soothing voice, and immediately, your heart stopped. he was the most attractive man that you had ever seen, one that looked as if he had stepped straight off the red carpet and into the building. his brown hair fell in swoops, two loose strands framing his forehead. his brown eyes were dark, but had an underlying sweetness to them. he was wearing a white shirt with a beige checkered flannel that was rolled up to his elbows, revealing his watch that looked expensive and was most likely stolen, if not bought through dirty money.

you had read his file, as you did with all of your new patients. he had been married— and technically still was— but was going through a divorce. no children or relatives on the contact sheet, and had an apartment a few blocks away from the rehab center. he had been hung on all sorts of drugs but mainly heroin, one of the worst kinds. your heart ached for him, though, it did after every file you read that belonged to a patient. you couldn't help it, you were too empathetic— it's why you got into the job in the first place. you wanted to help people, and help people you did.

"hello! you must be Bob?" you asked, wiping your messy hands on a rag as you walked over to him. "I would shake your hand but uh.." you showed your hands before giggling. your laugh sounded like honey, and the sunlight that poured through the windows and illuminated your skin made you look like it too.

"yeah.. that's me" he smiled half-heartedly. you looked at him up and down, taking him in as he had done with you.

"follow me and we will get you set up, yeah?" you gestured for him to follow you to the back of the room. as he walked behind you, he watched your hips and skirt sway in synchronicity. your skirt hanging low on your hips revealed your lower back tattoo that were of a bundle flowers, which made his brain go to unholy places.

you grabbed a cup of brushes and a palette already decorated with dollops of paint. you walk over to an empty canvas where you set down the materials and pulled up a stool for him.

"so, what do I do?" Bob asked, his hands in his pockets. you looked at him with a smile, seeing that he was clearly embarrassed to be here and didn't buy a bit of the "art therapy" shit. "do I just paint?"

"mhm! paint whatever makes you feel calm.. happy!"

your happiness and cheerful personality made him feel at peace, as if everything was good in the world— it was a feeling that he hadn't felt in a long time. he had never seen someone so happy to be in a place like this, and he had never seen a woman more beautiful.

Bob sat down on the stool, hesitantly grabbing a pencil on the shelf of the easel before sketching out what looked to be a spoon.

you could already tell what he was doing, so you stopped him by grabbing his hand softly. your hands were as soft as silk, and feeling your hand in his made his heart pound. "Bob.." you smiled, giving him a look. he didn't say anything, he merely stared at you. you began to blush as you two stared into one another's eyes, getting lost in them before you cleared your throat and let go of him. "listen hun, I know that stuff may make you feel good.. but what actually makes you truly happy."

he nodded his head with a smirk, erasing the pencil marks that he had previously made before beginning to draw something else. you couldn't make it out at first, but he began to draw a dog, one that was small and fluffy. you watched over his shoulder with a smile as he began to shade certain areas in an attempts to tidy it up, putting effort into the picture.

"who's that?" you ask, placing a hand on his shoulder, sending shivers down his spine.

"a dog that I had.." his thick New York accent making your knees weak, "his name was Panda. but uh.. he's gone"

"oh.. i'm sorry" you whispered, to which he replied with a quiet 'it's fine' before putting the pencil down.

though Bob was an ex-addict and mainly hustled his way through life, he was somehow a good artist. his drawing wasn't half bad for a beginner and there was potential.

suddenly, you heard your name being called by another patient. you quickly rushed over, leaving Bob to his thoughts and brushes. "I know what you're thinkin' man. you ain't the first one in here to wanna date her. believe me, we've tried. but she ain't allowed to date patients, let alone junkies" a patient next to Bob whispers with a mischievous smirk.

"just shut up and keep eatin' your paint, yeah?" he groans as he dips his brush into the black paint before laying a few strokes onto the canvas.

honestly, it hurt for him to hear that you didn't date patients. not because it was surprising, but because it was disappointing.

after Diane left, he had been feeling more alone than ever. he had decided to forget about her after she came to him and told him that she was Rick's lady, that she had moved on. Now, it was time for Bob to do the same. and he wanted to move on with you.

after you began to circle the room again, complimenting everybody's work and giving a few tips, you came back around to Bob.

"excuse me miss?" he asked. "could you help me? I can't really get the face right, y'know?"

"of course!" you smiled, carefully taking the brush from his hand. you leaned over a bit, carefully mapping out the dogs face and the shading. as you painted, you noticed that Bob was watching you, though he wasn't watching you paint. he couldn't help but admire your features as well as your talent. it all came so easily to you, and painting something that would take anyone else hours took you mere minutes.

"there! now when you-" and as you rambled, he listened intently and watched as your face lit up with passion. and as he watched your soft, pink lips move, he wanted nothing more than to kiss them.

after an hour of continuously calling you over for "help" and a few more brush strokes, the art therapy session was over. as everyone got up and began to leave, you thanked them all for coming and bid them a farewell.

you turned around and were surprised to see Bob still in the room, standing before you with his jacket hung over his arm.

"oh! Bob! is there something I can help you with?" you asked, walking closer to him.

"nah, I was just wondering.." he began, though, he stopped himself. he remembered what that guy had told him earlier, that you don't date patients. and even though he knew that the answer to his question would probably be no, he had to ask anyway. "would you uh.. wanna go out sometime?"

his question caught you off guard as he was technically still married and you hadn't expected his constant staring to be out of romantic interest, you just figured that he was curious.

"uh... listen Bob-"

"I know you don't date patients. but I was wonderin' if maybe you could.. make some sort of exception."

to be honest, you so desperately wanted to say yes. it wasn't often that you came across a man as attractive and sweet as him, and it just so happened that he had fallen right into your lap, making it a perfect opportunity. however, you knew that saying yes and dating a patient would probably get you fired, so you found a loophole.

"come with me" you told him before walking out of the room and down the hall, Bob following you with a confused look on his face. you walked out the back door into an empty alley way. "ask again" you said with a wide smile.

Bob looked as if you had asked him to solve a 10 step math problem, but nonetheless, he obeyed. "will you go out with me sometime?"

"yeah" you smiled, stepping closer, you bodies barely touching one another. he opened his mouth to ask a question that you already knew the answer to. "this alley way doesn't belong to the program. so technically, you aren't one of the patients at the moment. they tell us to keep our patient relationships inside.. but they never said anything about creating new relationships outside. so think of this as us meeting" you explained before extending your hand, "i'm y/n, you?"

he smiled back at you before taking your hand and shaking it. "I'm Bob," he said "Bob Hughes."

@avroravia @seilahdiaries @r0seb100d @johnnycadesslut

bob hughes x art-therapist!reader

@seilahdiaries @avroravia @johnnycadesslut @r0seb100d