yan ex crush x oblivious reader
@fish-18 hopefully this fits what you asked for :)
Middle school was an awkward time for everyone, growing up usually is, but it was especially awkward for you because you had a major crush on your classmate. A wonderful boy named Oliver, but everyone called him Ollie. He was friendly, respectful and helpful. The teaches loved him, his classmates loved him and you loved him. You loved him so much it was almost embarrassing, but not nearly as embarrassing as every single interaction you have ever had with him. You were always floundering about, you never knew quite what to say.
Ollie would stop by your table at lunch, try to strike up a conversation with you before his friends rustled him away or he would show up after your class was over and ask about your day. Sadly, you did not know what to say and always made an absolute fool of your self. "Uhm, it was, good, yes, you?" Gesturing to him with a shaky wave of your hand, almost knocking into his shoulder. "It was alright," He shrugged, his backpack rustling with the motion.
"I-" "That's good! I mean, what-what were you saying? Sorry." You had interrupted, accidentally of course, but you were mortified. Ollie's was talking about his day and you interrupted him, his face had fallen into mild confusion then amusement and you died even more. Your face turned red as you tried to shrink in on yourself. He laughs, assures you it was alright and finishes talking about his day. But it was too late, he hates you, you just knew it. So you avoided him for the rest of the week. That was how most of your interactions with him went, you did something embarrassing, he brushed it off but you kept dwelling on it and as a result it prevented any relationship from forming.
Later on, in highschool, once the both of you had matured somewhat, you're interactions were less cringe inducing. You actually held a conversation with him, despite the flame that constantly engulfed your face, and could bond somewhat with him. Though you were slightly less invested in pursuing him, viewing him as more of a friend than a partner at this point. Brushing off the teasing comments your friends made whenever you talked about him and constantly stating you simple thought of him as a friend. "Come on, guys, it's not like that. Ollie and I, we're just friends." Shelby rolled her eyes. "Suurree, whatever you say, bestie." Then she stopped her drink through an obnoxiously loud straw and started complaining about her day.
You did not move on so quickly, lingering on the idea a bit more as you walked home. Pausing at some point as you began to feel a strange churning in your stomach, your brain sending off an unexplained feeling of paranoia as you looked around. Your eyes dart quickly across the sidewalk, over the alleys and houses, shoulder song drawing up as you hold your backpack tight to your body. That anxious feeling increases, your heart racing and squeezing as you began to feel short of breath. You couldn't explain this feeling and you didn't want to dwell on it, so you turned forward and ran home as fast as you could.
Sadly, this wasn't the only time you felt that way It occured again when you were out with your friends, fortunately it didn't feel as bad because you weren't alone. But every passing day that paranoia seemed to increase, you became distracted in class and conversations as you started dwelling on the discomfort. "Are you alright?" A soft voice has Interrupted your thoughts, Ollie, you felt instant relief once he talked to you. "Yeah, just, I don't know, nervous, I guess?" You looked away, off to the side, then back to him.
"About the test or.." His observant eyes ran over your face, he turned to face you." "Something else?" He tilted his head and for some reason you felt mild concern, you didn't know what it was, his gaze, his body language or just the whole situation, but you were uncomfortable. So, you nodded and laughed off the feeling. "Just the test, haha, nothing else." His shoulders dropped and he placed a hand under his chin, a lazy grin replacing the concerns look from earlier. "Me too, we can study together, if you want." Ollie's gentle hand reached out, lightly touching yours. Your eyes fell to his hand, the touch sending small flutters through your stomach, flutters you had almost forgot. "Uhm, heh, okay." A stupid grin creeped onto your face, only further illuminated by your flustered cheeks. "Great! The same route home as always, right?" His hands clapped together and he straightens up, disappointing you somewhat. "To my house, you mean? I mean, yeah, same route home." You had temporarily questioned how he knew your route, but brushed it off as he seemed so harmless at the time.
You wish you hadn't, you wish you had told him no, had said you weren't interested. You wish that all those years ago you had never talked to him, you didn't know he was obsessed with you that he had dreamed of being with you, possessing you. After he came over to study, he has become more insistent on spending time with you and so did that paranoia you felt when walking alone. Everyday to was worse, until he had invited you over and you had accepted. At this point the two of you were close, you had even considered dating him.
Then you went up to his room, you remember the creaking steps, the ominous way the door slowly swung open and the horrifying, sinking feeling you felt when you saw your face plastered across the walls, on his ceilings and the pictures. There were so many pictures. You held your hands over your face, shocked and disgusted. He had violated your privacy for some sick obsession of his "Sorry, I forgot to clean my room." You whipped around, facing him, angry and upset. "What?" You started. "Why?" You gasped, forcing the words out. He shrugged, so casually, almost amused. In that moment any affection you felt for him disappeared, draining from your mind. "Why?" He moved towards you and you backed away, almost frozen as he shut the door. "Because, I love you." You shook your head, telling him no, he didn't. But all he did was laugh and wave off your rejection. "I've loved you since middle school, the day you first talked to me."
As he continued advancing towards you, forcing you into a corner, he smiled and opened his arms. "Now I've finally got you." You bumped into his end table, knocking over a pencil container, then managed to swerve when he lunged for you. "We can be together, no one can keep us apart." You were confused, who was he talking about. Stumbling away, you tried to go for the door, but he was faster and he tackled you, slamming your body to the floor and avoiding the swinging of your hands. "Don't fight me, just let it happen. Let us be together, please" He pleased, but you weren't swayed. You don't know what was wrong with him, why he was acting like this or how no one had gone in his room and been concerned. But you didn't stop fighting, scratching at his flawless face and kicking as best you could. It was somewhat helpful, but he won and you were stuck in his arms, in his house. Did this mean you would stop fighting? No. You would get out and if you didn't get out you knew someone would find you, you just knew it or rather you hoped someone would come for you.
