#BENJAMIN POINDEXTER X READER ➽──❥ OPTION TWO
synopsis stalker!Dex shows up to your restaurant after you got stood up by your date.
cw: cursing, reader is a dumbass who entertains stalkers, slight mentions of stalking
a/n: HIII ꉂ(˵˃ ᗜ ˂˵) this is my first post on here! I decided that instead of just reading all these amazing fics on this platform I might as well post some myself! Hope you like it⋆˙⟡
p.s! don't mind if there are any errors i'm still quite new to this lol.
You wanted to sink into that expensive velvet chair and disappear.
It was so embarrassing. After weeks of being cooped up in your apartment. You finally decided to give the guy you met on Tinder a chance. A terrible idea in hindsight-- who even goes on Tinder dates anymore?
Of course, Dex hated the idea the second you mentioned it.
You really couldn't care less what he thought.
The two of you had been talking for months-- if "talking" was even the right word. Dex would text you at odd hours asking how your day went, remind you to eat before you remembered yourself, and somehow always knew when you made it home. You'd long since stopped asking how.
Every now and then he'd even FaceTime you. Sometimes he'd show his face. Other times, he'd flip the camera around and casually point it to your apartment building from somewhere across the street.
It should've terrified you.
Instead, you'd roll your eyes, tell him he was being weird, and go back to complaining about your coworkers.
Dex, on the other hand, refused to call it a date, insisting it was just a “hang out” (he decided to call it that for his own sake) and spent the entire week trying to convince you to stay home instead.
You really should've listened.
“Dex, I even did my fucking hair,” you whined into your phone, slumping over the table in a pathetic attempt to make yourself smaller. This was not how it was supposed to work! You were supposed to be the one ghosting him, not the other way around.
With a groan, you rubbed your temple as your eyes drifted toward the waitress making their way across the dining room.
'They're probably gonna ask me to leave'..
That thought only made your embarrassment worse.
You made a mental note to swear off dating for good.
...Okay, maybe not for good.
On the other side of the phone, Dex was furious. The thought of even leaving an angel like you waiting was something he’d never do.
“Didn't I tell you he was a piece of shit?” he replied flatly.
Balancing his phone between his shoulder and ear, he shoved his feet into his shoes and headed for the door. Within minutes, he was behind the wheel.
He already knew where you were.
Dex had your location for months. He'd even scoped out the restaurant before your reservation.
Just a few safety precautions.
By the time you reached for your purse, deciding you'd suffered enough humiliation for one night, someone slid into the empty seat across from you. Arms folded on the table, he settled in as if he'd been invited.
"Hey sweetheart." I knew that voice.
The dim lighting caught the edge of Dex's knowing smirk as though he belonged here all along. You just stared at him, blinking once.
Then twice.
"...How did you know I was here?"
A smile tugged at the corner of his mouth, "I know a lot of things." He had the sheer audacity to grab your glass of water, taking a sip exactly where your lips made that sheer lipstick stain. A subtle claim in which you didn't bother correcting. "I also know that he left you sitting here for.." Dex checked the watch on his wrist. "...Forty-three minutes."
His eyes swept your outfit.
"You got dressed up for that?"
"Don't"
"No?" He shrugged, "I'm just sayin' if someone dressed up for me the way you did for him, I would never let that offer slip."
In defeat, you set your purse on your lap. Leaning back against the chair, bitting the inside of your cheek. He didn't seem like he was leaving anytime soon, and you couldn't waste a perfectly good outfit either. With a sigh, your gaze flickered up towards Dex. "If you're gonna stay and keep talking, then pay for my meal."
"Anything you want, princess," He answered rather quickly. A bit to happy to be at your disposal.
"Guess that makes me option two."
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