#new Elizabeth Olsen | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

at-tensionseeker · 2 years ago

Text

No Is A Full Sentence

Elizabeth Olsen x Y/N

Warnings: mentions of anxiety, social anxiety, panic attacks

Genre: Fluff, Funny (i think, based on my humor lol)

Link to Ao3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/44250676

This fanfic is inspired by Lizzie's Sam Jones' interview. I hope you enjoy!

It’s your first time going to this sushi place that one of your friends recommended. It isn’t far from your apartment, but you did have to walk for about ten minutes to get there. You wouldn’t have been if you weren’t craving those salmon nigiri take outs that your friend Jan brought to your apartment last week during your regularly scheduled movie nights. Instead, here you are standing in the back of the restaurant’s long ass line that reached their storefront because of so many people trying to buy their own food.

You put your hands in your coat’s pockets, just a failed attempt of trying to warm them. The memory of your gloves flashes in your eyes and the regret of not bringing them with you makes you want to kick yourself.

The December breeze in New York is definitely a killer. When you first moved in two years ago, you couldn’t even go outside for a full month without getting sick. The climate was new to you, especially having lived in sunny, warm weather all your life. It became a habit to buy long coats, jackets, winter gloves, and even earmuffs just so you don’t get hypothermia in the long run. Soon enough, you adjusted to the temperatures and learned how to adjust both your apartment’s and car’s heating system to help you during the winter season. It was fun.

The line moves slowly. Whatever the reason for that is, you really don’t know. Besides, you tell yourself, that you’re already in line and people behind you have come up so if you leave now you’ll just wake up in the middle of the night with those damn nigiris flooding your mind. So, you decided to stay.

You tip your toes to see if the people in front of you have moved since the last ten minutes you were there, but the sight of a short blonde hair and green eyes that met yours as she turns around for a split second stops you from breathing.

You’ve seen that face before. Multiple times.

In movies, in that Disney+ show, interviews, edits. You know it’s her.

You’ve been following her journey since her first appearance in Avengers Age of Ultron and has been on the ride up until her most recent successful film, Doctor Strange in the Multiverse of Madness. You weren’t a die-hard Marvel fan before and even now you wouldn’t dare to call yourself one, but you quickly found yourself latched on to the franchise ever since you saw her. There aren’t any posters in your room, and you certainly haven’t gone to any Comic-cons, but you loved how she portrayed such a powerful character and has been fascinated by her ever since.

Elizabeth Olsen is standing in line in front of you in the middle of the cold New York weather, her frame clad in black faux fur coat and beanie on top of her head that really barely covers her blonde hair.

You suddenly couldn’t breathe. The air is getting colder and thinner for your liking, and you fear you’ll pass out before you could even say hi to her. There’s sweat forming on your palms and you know you can feel it, but you’re also a little confused since you’re pretty sure normal people don’t sweat in the cold. You brush it profusely against the material of your coat just to get it off or to calm your nerves. That one you’re still debating on.

The line moves briefly and then stops, and you think to yourself that if you could just muster any amount of courage, you’d say hi to her. Maybe get a photo with her even.

Should you say hi to her? What will you tell her? Do you tap her first on the shoulder so she can look back at you? Or is that rude?

The line moves again and you curse inwardly. It was barely moving five minutes ago, and now that you see a Hollywood Star in front of you it suddenly budges?

How infuriatingly unlucky of you.

From what you’ve seen, Elizabeth seems nice to her fans during fan meets and interviews so you know she’s not rude. That’s one of the reasons why you fell in love with her personality.

But this isn’t a Comic-con, is it? This isn’t some staged interview wherein you get a free backstage pass to meet your idol, no. This is literally outside of the restaurant in the middle of a busy New York street and she’s just trying to grab some food just like everyone else.

You’re still conflicted, even when the both of you finally reach inside. There’s probably about 4 to 5 people in front of you now, and you’re not even thinking about the sushi at this point anymore. Your hands still shake and sweat no matter how many times you wipe it off, and your heart beats faster than normal when you realize you’re both going to part ways sooner than you like it. It gets even harder to convince yourself to just go for it because when will another opportunity like this be presented to you in the future? Chances are lower than zero itself. A negative number if you think of it.

So when the customer in front of her finally reaches the counter, your shaky hands poke her slightly on her left shoulder.

Nothing.

Okay, maybe a little harder?

You poke her again, and she whips her head back to you. Her brows furrowed at the sight of you and they raise up in question. It’s hard not to look like a fool in front of a famous person, isn’t it? You probably look like a deer in headlights, but you quickly found your voice after a few blinks.

“Uh- h-hi,” you stammer. “Are you- is it okay if- I’m a huge fan of your work. Is it okay if I ask for a photo?”

You’re pretty sure she didn’t hear that. You barely let out a whisper, or is that blood that’s rushing through your ears?

Realization dawns on her face on what you mean. She shakes her head.

“No.”

There is a breaking sound somewhere. You’re not entirely sure if it’s one of the waiters who accidentally breaks some glass or if it is the sound of your heart breaking. You freeze in your place, embarrassed and hurt, but mostly embarrassed because of the dumb decision you made. Instead of letting that get to you, you give her a smile and nod to let her know that you get it.

“Forgive me,” you blurt out, still smiling at her to hide the tears burning in the back of your eyes. “I understand, of course. You’re not obliged to. I’m really-“ you pause to swallow the lump in your throat. It’s just really embarrassing. “I’m really glad to have seen you in person.”

Elizabeth only looks at you and gives you a warm smile and that eases out a little bit of your anxiety of probably offending her at some point. The customer in front of her left, you notice, so you usher her forward. She gives you one last smile and orders her food.

Few of the things you didn’t notice though. Her eyes are red and a little bit swollen, probably from crying and when she ordered her food, her hands are clasped together with fingers rubbing each other to ease her anxiety. Of course you would have, had you not been too busy cursing yourself at your stupidity.

Elizabeth grabs her takeout, gives you one last look and exits the restaurant.

You take the sushi you’re not craving anymore and replays the encounter as you go your way home. You can’t believe that the first celebrity you’ll meet in New York is the one person you adore. It was surreal, to say the least, and despite the rocky meeting with Elizabeth Olsen you are still happy to have seen her smile and look at you directly in person.

You swear to God you’ll attend the next Comic-con.

Sending the news to Jan, who doesn’t believe you therefore requested that you call him as soon as you arrive, you quickly pocket your phone and sprint your way outside of the busier streets of New York. You reach the more calm and quiet area where your apartment is and begin to walk slowly.

The unfortunate encounter with Elizabeth Olsen has been the only thing that’s replaying in your mind so when you spot a crouched figure with faux fur coat and beanie once again, you couldn’t help but squeak.

You almost tripped on her actually. She’s just by the sidewalk, both of her hands are covering her ears and her eyes are tightly closed. There’s a frown and a thin line of sweat on her face and you didn’t think twice before fully sitting down in front of her to check.

“Hey,” you prod slowly. “Are you okay? Do you want me to call someone?”

Flashes of hands clasped together back at the restaurant flood your brain and it didn’t take you another minute to realize that she’s currently having a panic attack.

“Uhm… Elizabeth- Lizzie? Can I call you that? I’ll call you that, okay?” You stammer. “I’m here to help you. Can you breathe slowly please?”

Elizabeth does as you tell her. You continue to tell her to breathe and that everything is fine around you. “It’s scary, I know. But it will pass, okay? You need to be in the present, Lizzie. Just listen to my voice. I’ll be right here and you’re not alone.”

Albeit her eyes are still shut, her breathing sounds less worse than before. And when she finally looks up to you, you see the green eyes you have admired for a long time swimming in pain and anxiety. It makes you want to pull her for a hug since she may need one, but you obviously don’t want to overstep your boundaries even if that means comforting her to help.

“Concentrate on my breathing,” you nod at her to encourage her to copy the rhythm you set for her. “That’s it. You’re doing really good, Lizzie.”

Eventually after what seems like hours of doing breathing exercises with her capped with a lot of reassuring words, the hands cupping her ears drop down to her lap and are slowly rubbing her palms in another attempt to calm herself. You slowly stand up from the ground and hold out a hand for her to take.

“Are you okay now? Can you stand?” You offer. She takes it and stands up rather wobbly.

“Thank you,” she murmurs. “I feel better.”

“Right,” you smile at her. Noticing that you’re still holding her also glove-less hand, your cheeks flush as you pull it back while taking two steps backwards. You don’t want to overcrowd her after having an anxiety attack.

“Um so, are you from around here? I could walk you to your place if you want,” you tell her, not really wanting to risk letting her go alone after an episode. You know how it feels to be trapped by anxiety like that, and to break down in public places without backup is definitely one of the worst experiences ever.

“I’m not trying to stalk you or something,” you clarify after not getting an answer from her. “I’m Y/N. I live there in that building,” you point towards your apartment. “If you want, I can jog really quickly and get my car and I can drive you home. Or not, of course I don’t want to overstep. I understand completely.

“It’s just, I don’t want you to go on your own after experiencing that,” you add. “I know how it feels and I honestly just want to help you.”

Elizabeth contemplates for a moment and answers. “That’s very kind of you, Y/N. But, I think I need to decline the offer. Being in this business, I’m not a very trusting person-“

“Of course,” you cut her off quickly. “I understand, Ms. Olsen.”

“However,” she smiles a little bit at your rambling once again. “Can I please borrow your phone? Mine died down and I need to call my sister so she can pick me up from here. And I guess don’t mind the company while waiting?”

You quickly fish out your phone and hand it over to her. You also ignore the amused chuckle from her as soon as she sees your lock screen is that of Wanda Maximoff.

“Y/N?”

“Yes?”

“The phone’s locked. Do you want to type in your password?” She smiles, the look of amusement still twinkling in her eyes. You don’t mind though. You’d prefer her teasing eyes over the sad ones you witnessed a while ago.

“Oh, okay. Here let me just,” you move forward to type in 0216 in your phone and the blush creeps back in your face once again when you feel her eyes watching you.

Elizabeth calls one of her twin sisters. Apparently, they’re here in New York for a fashion event and Elizabeth thought it’d be nice to come with them. While waiting for one of the Olsen twins, you both sat on one of the stairs and talked for a bit.

“I want to say that I’m sorry for refusing to take a photo a while ago,” she looks at you a little apologetically. Her posture seems calmer now and you’re really glad that she’s doing better every passing minute. “I was out on my own, and a few people have recognized me on the streets and I was just trying to have a nice time for myself.”

“No, don’t worry about it,” you reply. “I wasn’t lying when I said I completely understand and that you’re not obliged to. I'm just glad to meet you.

“I should be the one to apologize,” you bite your lip nervously. It didn’t cross your mind that you could’ve been the trigger to her already bubbling up anxiety but hearing her say that crowds have already recognized her, you asking for a photo was the last straw. “I was contemplating whether or not to ask you and I did, but I know I shouldn’t have. I’m sorry.”

The actress waves it off. “No, honestly you were the most polite one. You were just the first and only person I said ‘no’ to who didn’t insist on getting a photo, and that set me off. Others just didn’t care and they still took their flashing phones out and pointed it at me.”

“One thing I learned from you is that ‘no is a full sentence’ so,” you acknowledge with a smile, distinctly remembering that one interview of hers with Sam Jones.

“Yes, exactly,” she laughs.

“We can take a photo now if you want to?” The actress offers after a moment of silence. “You helped me through a tough time. It’s one of the ways I can repay you.”

“It’s okay, really. You don’t have to repay me or anything. Kindness is free,” you reply, to which her small smile widens a lot more. “You’ve had a long day. I’m just the stranger who wants to help a fellow anxiety sufferer,” you joke to which she laughs lightly.

“At this point you’re not a stranger anymore,” Elizabeth says, her fingers still fiddling with each other. “I know your name is Y/N, and where you live,” she points to your building to prove it. “Those two plus the fact that your wallpaper is Wanda and your passcode is my birthday.”

She smirks at you, clearly enjoying the way your cheeks flush for the nth time that day. “Okay, you win. Yes, I’m your fan and all that. You can make fun of me now.”

“Don’t be like that,” Elizabeth laughs at your silly eye roll but waves it off. “I’m always honored to meet my fans.”

A black car pulls up from out of nowhere and Elizabeth stands up to leave. “This was really great. Minus the anxiety part,” she turns back to you and flashes that award winning smile yet again. “I’m grateful that it was you who found me cowering in the streets, Y/N. I’m hoping to see you again some other time when neither of us is either breaking down or a complete and total stranger,” you note the hopeful tone in her voice, and that makes you wonder if there’s another universe out there wherein she’ll still remember you after tonight because you’re pretty sure she wouldn’t.

If you’re lucky, this might be that universe but who knows?

“I’m glad you’re safe,” you smile at her. “See you around, Ms. Olsen.”

“That is such a formal way to address me,” She calls out, opening the door to the front seat.

“Elizabeth, then?” You suggest to which she grimaces.

“Just Lizzie is fine. I distinctly remember you calling me that a while ago during… you know,” she trails off. “And only my mom calls me by my full name and that only happens when I’m in trouble.”

“Okay, Lizzie,” you chuckle. Waving a hand up to a goodbye, the car finally speeds off to the opposite direction of your apartment. You let out a sigh and smile at the events as you walk back home.

Even when you are in bed, the memory of her voice and her smile makes you giddy. This definitely goes on the top of your list of most memorable things that have happened to you while staying in New York. You still couldn’t believe your chances. Granted your first meeting was terrible in all ways, Elizabeth was nothing short of amazing to you. You really aren’t wrong to follow her throughout her career because of her personality. The personal encounter made you want to support her more in the future.

The morning after that, the wild array of flowers on your doorstep have kind of taken you by surprise. To add to that, you see the simple note on one of the bouquets that says

“To my biggest fan,

Thank you.

Love,

Wanda Maximoff”

and your heart melts at the sentiment.

You aren’t expecting yourself to be at the receiving end of this, but it’s definitely not unwanted. It most definitely isn’t, especially when you check your phone and see a text from an unknown number asking whether or not you got the package.

You replied to Elizabeth, saving her number under “Lizzie” with a huge grin on your face. She must’ve gotten the number from her sister when she borrowed your phone to call her. Who would’ve thought that asking for a photo with Elizabeth Olsen and getting rejected will lead you to this?

Y/N: Are you my stalker now? Did our roles change?

Lizzie: Ha-ha. Very funny. I just want to say thank you again for yesterday.

Y/N: And you already have. The flowers are unnecessary.

Lizzie: Did you not like them?

Y/N: I love them. They’re beautiful, Lizzie. Thank you.

Lizzie: Would you say, they’re beautiful enough for us to talk about them over coffee?

You almost choke on the bread you made for breakfast this morning. That is definitely upfront and honest. You convince yourself that it’s probably just another way to thank you for the good deed yesterday, but there’s also a teeny tiny voice in your head saying she’s asking you out.

But why would she, right?

Deciding to not listen to any of your demons, you turn your attention back to her text. Upon rereading the text she sent for the third time now, it’s dawning on you that you’ve yet to reply. Elizabeth follows that up with another text and it makes you feel really silly because of how much your cheeks ache from smiling.

Lizzie: Maybe about Wanda also? If you want?

Lizzie: Or… anxiety issues?

Y/N: You already have me on board with coffee. Wanda talk, too. The anxiety issues, I think we should both stick to our therapists.

Lizzie: I can’t say I don’t agree on the last one.

Lizzie: So, I’ll pick you up tomorrow then? 3PM?

Y/N: Works for me, Lizzie.

Y/N: Or I can pick you up instead. I wouldn’t mind.

Lizzie: It’s okay, Y/N. Besides, I know where you live. *winky face*

You laugh at that one. She should definitely be a star of another comedy film. Elizabeth is funny by nature even though there are countless interviews of her saying that she’s not.

Y/N: Of course you’ll throw that.

Y/N: I feel unsafe now. This is unfair. I feel like I should also know where you live.

Lizzie: You will.

Lizzie: On the second date.

Lizzie: When you take me home.

Elizabeth leaves no room for questions. Your demons shut their mouths when you read that it most definitely will be a date. You want to play it cool, like coyly and shy, but what’s more to hide? She already knows you’re a fan, so you stick to that and pray that maybe… someday maybe, who knows, right? You’ll like each other.

Y/N: You’re smooth, Olsen. Got two dates in one day.

Lizzie: I’ll see you tomorrow, Y/N.

Y/N: Can’t wait.

-----------------------------------

You’re late. And you forgot your gloves again.

It’s another cold, almost snowy day in New York city. You love living here despite the busy times and countless people just trying to go through with their respective lives. It’s loud and lively and you used to hate that but there’s nowhere else you’d rather be but here.

You check your bag for the passes, but the memory of the glossy paper beside your gloves on your messy bed makes you internally groan. The first time you attend a Comic-con, and you leave your backstage passes. How else are you going to meet her?

Cursing inwardly, you send her a text to let her know of your situation even though you know that the event started an hour ago and she won’t see it because she’s definitely not holding her phone in the middle of answering questions. You blame your boss for sending that last minute spreadsheet, but this is your idea right? You have to suffer the consequences.

Being in line isn’t something foreign to you. In fact, it’s so familiar that you chuckle as kids, teens, and grown ups join you from the entrance. The line is moving rapidly as most people with passes (which could have been you if you weren’t so careless) have already gone inside. When you enter the place, it’s no surprise to see it packed as the recent MCU film has made tabloids and charts because of its success. You easily spot her even though you’re rows away from the front line. She’s sitting in the middle with her face scrunched up in annoyance and teeth biting her lower lip so hard you swear she wants to draw blood.

You grimace as you helplessly stand in the back with no way to even come forward to be close to her. The situation is laughable, but the frown on Elizabeth’s forehead is enough to make you worry and act fast. You find a spot with a lot of light so you move towards that, passing a lot of people in the process, with the hopes of her green eyes spotting you even for a distance.

It’s effective apparently, because she spots you at the same time a question is asked towards her. The frown eases, she scrunches up her nose adorably towards you and you nod back both in confirmation and reassurance that you made it there, and she lets out a full on grin you know is solely reserved for you. The interviewer interrupts and you laugh at her confused state.

“Elizabeth? The question?” The interviewer supplies.

“Right! I’m so sorry,” she laughs gleefully, head thrown back and hand covering her mouth and you’ve seen that look a thousand times before but it still gives you the same butterfly effect in your stomach. “I- uh. I saw my wife in the crowd and I got distracted. I’m sorry. What was the question again?”

“How romantic!” the interviewer swoons. “Everyone, that’s Elizabeth’s wife Y/N. Can we say hello to her?”

Your face turns red as people look at your direction and send cheers and hoots. You wave back to the fans shyly, stealing another glance at your wife on the stage as you do so. Standing in front of the light definitely has some good and bad results. You can’t believe she did that in front of everybody, but you’re not one to complain. Her PA also runs from the front to you upon hearing this and she ushers you through security. You chuckle as they bring you in, blowing Elizabeth a kiss before you disappear backstage.

“Hey,” your wife greets you after the event is finished. She skips towards your direction and plants a chaste kiss on your lips to which you happily sigh into. “I was worried you weren’t here.”

“Forgive me, my love,” you apologize while engulfing her in a hug. “You know commuting in New York is insane.”

“I repeatedly told you to get your license so we can buy you a new car.”

You smile at the worry in her voice. “I like it when you drive us to places you’re familiar with, Ms. Stuyvesant Street. And the boss left me with some last minute work.”

She pulls back to look at you. “And what were you doing in the back? Didn’t I leave the passes in our apartment?”

“I left them,” you sheepishly reply. Elizabeth narrows her eyes at you and shakes her head.

“And your gloves too. Am I right, my love?”

The cheeky smile you gave her is enough to confirm her suspicions. “I was really late and I wanted to see you as soon as I could. I miss you this morning.”

“Charming,” she laughs and rummages through her bag for something. Curious as you are, you lean forward to look at it. “Here.”

She hands you a pair of gloves.

“I keep one in case you forget yours during winter,” she grins, proud of what she did. “And I was right.”

You want to wipe off that cocky smirk off of her lips. There are a lot of people around you but she did announce you to everyone, so really what else is stopping you? After she said goodbye to everyone, you pull her hand so she moves closer to your side.

Elizabeth lets out a squeal when you grab both of her waist. You smell her perfume that invades your nostrils and your head swims at the fact that there’s nothing better than having her close again. She’s everywhere and the background fades away like a cliche movie scene, but you don’t care about any of those. She’s here in front of you and you’re incredibly happy to know that she loves you as much as you love her.

“I love you,” you whisper against her mouth.

“I love you, too.”

It’s insane how one kiss from her makes you feel giddy. And that’s saying something after being married to her for a year now.

“You need to wear the gloves, my love,” she chuckles when both of you pull away. Elizabeth leads you to the back exit that leads to the parking lot. The breeze picks up a little bit and snowflakes fall on your heads, but your face is still hot from kissing her.

“Why do I need the gloves when I could just hold your hand and let you warm me up?” You bob your eyebrows at her and kiss her temple as the both of you walk towards her car.

You’re lucky. There’s no doubt about that now. Being with such an incredible woman who supports you in everything that you do and loves you through it all is a bliss. You couldn’t have asked for more.

“And they say I’m the romantic one.”

#elizabeth olsen #wanda maximoff #elizabeth olsen x reader #y/n #elizabeth olsen x y/n #fluff #lizzie x y/n #lizzie x you #elizabeth olsen x you #funny #new york city setting #fanfiction #fanfic #wanda x you #wanda x y/n #wanda x reader #wandanat #scarletwidow #marvel cinematic universe

586 notes · View notes