imagine: going on a date with Bob but he's kinda boring... 18+
characters: Bob Reynolds x bpd!plus size!fem!reader
note: soooo this was a writing exercise in healing through words by rupi kaur, book I have, it basically had prompts that I had to insert into the story of a first date.. but I fell in love with the idea so I'm rewriting here! Not edited! and one day I will figure out a format I like...and normie is always gonna be a corgi for me sns
WARNINGS: 18+ MDNI - dating apps, trauma dumping, mentions of bob's past, drug abuse, abusive parents, his mental health, mental health medication, mentions of body issues, reader has bpd! non canon, no super heroes here....bob is like mid twenties here!
God this man was boring.
Bob's been so quiet, but so incredibly hot, she wanted this to go well. It was more than that though, they've been talking for over a month. She's never be closer with someone, in some ways.
Bob talked about the hobbies he has, he loves to tinker, collect parts, going to thrift stores to have old stereos and parts to reuse. They've been spoken about going there together because she loved to thrift. He loved legos, he could build things for hours, he loved reading and would share what he was currently catching up on.
He had an adorable dog named Normie, a corgi with light brown and white fur. They had traded snaps, sending pictures back and forth during the day. When he got home most of his pictures were of his dog because he didn't particularly like taking pictures of himself.
Bob is beyond sweet, so maybe truly, it wasn't a him problem. It was probably her, her attention span or her anxiety flaring at the slightest abnormability of everything not clicking right away.
It's weird because it did click! Through text, face time, but now....
She was nervous, he was nervous, she couldn't really blame him for not talking when she didn't know what to say either. Those blue eyes alone could probably bring her to her knees, but she needed more, she didn't do one night stands, and certainly didn't want that with Bob.
They were at the local Mexican restaurant that she had been going to since she was a kid. She had been nervous about meeting up so he drove about fifteen minutes to her hometown.
She got her classic chicken and rice with flour tortilla's, an upgrade from when she was a kid when she would ask for corn dogs or shrimp and rice and only picking off the shrimp. It was growth, her palate expanding through the years, and Bob had gotten the same.
She wore tight black leggings, her oversized red flannel, not super flattering as it went over her butt and hid most of her body. But she had a couple buttons at the top loose, which she noticed the fleeting glances from Bob, that made the tips of his ears pink.
There were always nerves when it came to dating, a lot of the times she never actually met the person she was talking to because she was nervous they wouldn't find her attractive in person.
She's always been a bigger girl, she worried that this was what this was about. That yeah maybe she had big boobs, maybe he didn't expect much of this.
She broke the silence as they finish eating, feeling awkward, "Bob, uh, is everything good? You aren't...say much...if you regret this, I understand, I know I'm not..."
"What?" Bob questions, confused, "I'm sorry, I just don't want to say the wrong thing," he trails, glancing down at his plate, quietly tapping his fingers against the table. He stutters through the rest, "I really like you, and sometimes I just...trauma dump too early, we talked about so much over text but there were things I didn't tell you. Things that might make you change your mind about me." He grew red all along his chest, cheeks, and ears, giving her a wobbly fake smile.
She goes soft, her anxiety dimming, shoulders relaxing as she stretches her arm across the table to slowly calm the tapping that grew faster, soothing his fingers.
Bob looks at her with starry eyes, "You can always open up to me," she promised, giving him a real, reassuring smile, hopefully conveying that she can be trusted, "I'm not going to judge you, I mean I came from crazy, I have my own things," she shrugs, "We are all in some ways, some people are judged for it, others get away with it...I'm not here to do either, I just know it can be intense. God sorry, I'm not your therapist, I've just done a lot of therapy..."
He dips his chin, cracking a bashful grin, making her feel all tingly inside.
Bob glances around, making his voice smaller, "I um, won't go into too much detail here, but um my dad was really abusive growing, along with just drinking all the time...Then uh we got into a car accident, almost killed me and it did him...My mom wasn't with us. I um got addicted to morphine and just everything fell apart after that. I dropped out of school, got kicked out of the house. I um I was a drug addict from twelve to twenty two... got arrested a few times, and then I had a really bad manic episode that landed me in the mental hospital. I was mandated to check in with my probation officer, go to support group, attend therapy. I didn't have insurance or anything but it was court mandated...I'm surprised I just didn't get thrown into jail but they diagnosed me with Bipolar and I've been completely sober for three years. I uh got help when I was twenty one but...I still struggle off and on, nothing big or major, but I almost got everything taken away when the drugs induced a manic episode-jesus, I said I wouldn't say a lot but I said a lot."
He cringes at himself at the info dump, but she doesn't remove her soothing hand, a glint her eyes as pets at his fingers. "It's amazing that you're sober, my parents were alcoholics...I...It's not the same but it can be really hard to not give into it because it's all we knew..."
Bob nods his head slowly, a thickness in his throat from the fact that she did understand him, "I uh, I'm on some prescription medication that they track pretty closely. I got off probation last year, early...I still go to group, and regular therapy...But my meds have really helped."
"I um...have you ever heard of borderline personality disorder?"
"I have, loosely..."
"Well I got diagnosed when I was nineteen, along with PTSD and autism..." her eyes widen, "I'm not saying that to be like I have it worse at all, but, I'm overthinking and it isn't the same but they're both intense...Things can flip on a dime for me, one moment I'm fine, the next I snapped, or I'm annoyed, or crying, or laughing so hard I can't breath. It's...confusing to a lot of people when they see it."
"I understand," Bob hums, his thumb had moved to the crevice of her own and her pointer finger, soothing. "I know why I didn't say anything but why didn't you?"
She glances down, sighing, "I mean, I know it's a personality disorder but I use to kinda open with that, warn people, attract the weirdoes or abusive people...or people who instantly thought I had to be abusive or obsessed with them...Because a lot of people don't understand it. So along the same lines but I just...didn't want you to only see that because I'm trying really hard not to only see that."
"God, I wanna kiss you right now." Bob utters, passion lacing his voice.
She giggles, both of their cheeks hot, her teeth skims her bottom lip. "Well you gotta wait." she teases while slipping her digits between his. "They make really good fried ice cream here, do you wanna try it?"
"Sure." he nods, a giddy smile on his face as he glances down for a second, when he meets her eyes once more, he's flushed red.
"I really like you too, by the way...." she smiles.
note: ahhh, lmk if you guys like the short not edited stuff, I have other ones I have written as more of practice but don't know if I wanna post...
