kelsiwritesfics

[kelsiwritesfics]

Hi there, I hope you’re doing well. I wanted to reach out because I’m interested in building a mutually beneficial connection. For me, that means enjoying each other’s company, having meaningful conversations, and spending quality time together while I also provide support to help you achieve your goals or maintain your lifestyle. If that sounds like something you’d be open to exploring, I’d love to talk more.

Hi! Send me a private message.

[kelsiwritesfics]

Fan Fiction Suggestions!

Hi friends! I hope all is well!

First, I wanna say thank you so much for the support on my first two stories! The reaction was immediate and much appreciated! I thank you truly!

Now, even though I'm in the depths of working on my next novel, I don't wanna leave y'all hanging! But I can't think of an idea to save my damn life, lol. If you like my writing style and would love to see a story about your favorite character of person, let me know in the comments! I'm more than happy to do it! I can't wait to see what you suggest!

Xo, Kels!

[kelsiwritesfics]

"If She Knew" - Aaron Pierre x Jayme Lawson

Characters:

Jackson "Jack" Howard - Played by Aaron Pierre

Elizabeth "Liz" Jefferson - Played by Jayme Lawson

Description:

In the heart of New Orleans, Jackson Howard spends his days in the comfort of his New Orleans Herald Office and his father’s old beat up leather journal. And on the rough pages of that journal sit the most beautiful words about the one so far, yet so close. The gracious Southern belle who’s laugh captivates his every waking moment shouldn’t be all Jack thinks about, but Elizabeth Jefferson is one hell of a woman with one hell of an aura. For three years, Jack - ironically enough - can’t garner the words to confess the deep affection he feels for Liz. And how could he? With so many roadblocks and her own relationship stopping him, Liz is nowhere near in reach. However, Jack’s luck may work in his favor - as a birthday wish and a strange twist of events catapult Liz further than he could ever dream of. With one night and a whole lot of obstacles, can Jack finally muster the words to make Liz his entirely

Hope you enjoy!

****

A Thursday at the “New Orleans Herald” is just as busy as a Monday or any other day in a busy city.

 With stories walking in and out, journalists chasing down stories, and editors for a rush print - it gives me just enough drama for me to need to decompress for a while. And I’m okay with it. 

Darin and I walk through the lobby, taking the elevator to the third floor where the editing department is located. As I await the door’s opening, I imagine Liz sitting at the desk right in front of the mechanical door. 

Usually, she’s answering a call - subduing a yelling individual with all the class in the world. 

When the doors open, she’s not there. 

A pang of disappointment appears in my chest and I try to choke it back. But it follows me as Darin and I get off of the elevator and book it for the break room, where my second cup of coffee is calling.

 “I think you should talk to her today. I mean, it’s your birthday and I’m sure your luck is up. Maybe she’ll give your shy ass the time of day,” Darin advises with a shrug as we walk down the long hallway lined with conference rooms and closets. 

“I thought you didn’t believe in luck? And how is insulting me encouraging?” I chuckle slightly, my ears perking up when I hear Liz’s familiar laugh echoing down the hall.

 “Tough love, brother! That’s what I believe in! Now pull off your tighty whities, pull on your boxers, and go talk to her,” he exclaims, stopping by the break room door.

 In the reflection of the conference room across from it, I can see Liz and Pamela standing at the counter, presumably waiting for a pot of coffee to finish. I hesitate, all the words and none coming to me at the same time. Darin nudges my back, practically making me fall into the room. I turn back to him, silently cursing. 

“Go on! Be a man!” he whisper - yells, banging a fist against his chest. I exhale deeply, adjust my suit, and turn the first step into the break room.  

“Good Morning Ladies,” I greet them, my eyes stupidly glued to the floor as I make a beeline for the refrigerator. From the corner of my hooded eyes, I can see the easy conversation between Pamela and Liz come to a halt; Pamela’s eyes dripping over me like I’m fresh meat. She plays with the necklace resting against her chest, eyes narrow as she breathes me in. Liz notices Pamela’s drastic change in attitude and is amused. She pulls away from the refrigerator, holding a bottle of coffee creamer, and walks over to the counter. 

 “Good Morning, Jackson. You look mighty dapper this morning!” Pamela swoons, playing with the ends of her curly hair.

 Pamela - who works in publishing on the fourth floor - often makes an appearance next to Liz on the third floor. Being friends in and out of work, they spend a lot of free time together. So much so that I know Pamela has had a crush on me since I stepped foot in here. 

And every day, the comments get more and more creative.

I smile modestly, stepping next to Liz to gather a cup of coffee. “Well, thank you. You look nice today, Pam. You as well, Elizabeth.” I glance at her just under my eyelashes 

As Liz turns to grab a mug that is just behind my arm, the space between us suddenly fills with tense air, our eyes connecting as she almost runs into me. Her eyes hold a burning, faraway look; a story playing out in them just from a singular glance. I reach behind me awkwardly, pulling the mug she was reaching for and handing it to her. She smiles gently, handing me the cream and sugar she was occupying. “Thank you, Jack. I suppose you dressed up for your big day?”

 There’s nothing super spectacular about my outfit. Nothing beyond my favorite pair of Khakis, my father’s old green sleeveless vest, and brown loafers. 

The outfit comment doesn’t stop me though. 

I replay Liz’s sentence and hear the slight inflection in her voice when she mentions my “big day”. 

My body heats in a full blush.

I swallow hard, watching her expression turn into an amused one. I’ve only mentioned my birthday in passing maybe twice since I’ve been here. I can’t imagine her tucking away the information like this.

 “You remembered?” I whisper, almost breathless. 

She smiles. “Everyone needs friends for their thirtieth. Plus, Pamela made sure I didn’t forget.” Liz glances over at Pamela knowingly.

Pamela hides her face in her coffee cup. I take a sip, swallowing slight discomfort and a bashful expression on my face. 

“You’re too kind, Pam.” 

“And you’re too fine, Jack.” she winks. 

I choke slightly, wiping the dribbling coffee on my lip as Liz snickers. “Pamela, behave,” she warns warmly. 

“Oh come on, Liz! We all know Jack here is one stud of a man! You’d be a fool to recognize that he isn’t.”

I glance over at Liz, who runs her hands over her pearls, stammering for an answer. 

“Um, well. I’m in a relationship,” she offers. 

“And you still have eyes,” Pamela fills in.

Liz falters nervously, tapping her nails against the mug she’s coddling. She glances at me quickly. I avoid her eyes. She clears her throat.

“I’m sure Jack has plenty of women who can tell him he’s handsome. I’d be redundant at that point,” she chuckles nervously. 

“So you do think he’s handsome?” Pamela interrogates with a raised eyebrow.

“Pamela!”

“I’m not letting up, Liz! I can’t be the only one in this damn office who thinks Jack should be on some cheesy calendar somewhere!”

 I can’t help but look at Liz, searching for a glimpse of confirmation. She chews on her lips as the wheels in her mind turn. 

My wheels turn.

Despite her relationship with Melvin, does she find me attractive? 

Does she know that I can never stop thinking about how attractive she is? And not in a way that’s sexual - just pure appreciation for a creation that is unbelievable. 

I get lost trying to read her eyes, and I barely hear her response.

 “You are very good-looking, Jack. Any woman would be lucky to have you,” she smiles gently.​​ Tightly.  

Pamela coughs aggressively as she sips her coffee. I smile at her and Liz returns to whatever she was doing.

 As I pour my cup of coffee and reach over Liz awkwardly to return to pot, I can’t help but hear her very safe response on replay. 

Any woman would be lucky to have you.

 I would be one lucky man if I ever got the courage to say what my mind screams.

 I’m praying for the awkwardness - Liz’s avoidance and Pamela’s gawking - to subside when the big man sends a Hail Mary in the obnoxious form of Darin himself. 

“Hey, Jack! The boss wants to talk to us real quick,” Darin calls as he sticks his head in the door. My shoulders fall as a rush of adrenaline pumps through my body. Liz continues to find solace in her cup of coffee, which saves me from uncomfortable eye contact. 

 I grab my coffee from the counter, turning to Darin with an appreciative look.

 “It was good seeing you ladies,” I mutter, acknowledging both Liz and Pamela before damn near sprinting out of the room. 

Darin and I aren't even a foot away from the break room before he starts interrogating me. 

“You got to her yet?” he whispers like a gossiping teenager, making me roll my eyes. 

“How was I? They were already having their own conversation!” I swallow a hot gulp of coffee, hoping it’ll settle my nerves. 

“Man, you need to get your player game up! Have you learned anything from me!?” Darin exclaims. 

I smirk as I walk into the office.

“No! And I’d like to keep it that way.”

****

A/N: Hello beautiful people! If you don't know yet, my name is Kelsi and I'm a published romance author and poet! While I love the world of being able to share my sappy work with a bunch of willing readers, I've had the desire to get back to my roots - FAN FICTION! It never left me and I'm so happy that I'm writing again! Technically, all of my published work is some sort of fan fiction and this excerpt is no different. This snippet is a chapter from my first novel, "If She Knew"- a poem/poetic romance featuring these beautiful characters. I hope this caught your attention and if you wanna know more about this book, following my instagram and tiktok - @allshedoesiswrites - for updates and cute content! If you're intrigued to know about Jack and Liz's story after this chapter, copies are available for purchase on Barnes & Noble and Amazon! I hope I caught your attention and i hope you stay and read awhile

A/N #2: What are your thoughts!? What do you think is next for Jack and Liz? Any predictions for the novel? Leave any suggestions, comments or requests for future stories in the comments! Share with all of your friends that would be interested! Thanks!

[kelsiwritesfics]

First Post! "Signed, Mrs Quinn" - Jacob Anderson x Halle Bailey

Characters:

Houston Quinn - Played by Jacob Anderson

Eleanore Bullock - Played by Halle Bailey

Description:

In 1954, Eleanore Bullock spent the summer with her best friend's mysterious French cousin, a harsh accented, reserved, good - looking, intelligent aspiring doctor with all of his hooks in young Eleanore. Houston Quinn - at the end of his summer exploration in New York - is starring down a long trip back to Paris, France. However, he finds it especially hard to leave the regal beauty he met on a brownstone stoop. On their last summer sunset, will they finally confess that the deep rooted feelings that transcend distance?

Hope you enjoy!!

****

Summer 1954

Houston Quinn is going to miss New York sunsets. 

While he thought that there would ever be beauty that could top that of Paris’ glistening sunset and even more sparkling nights - he reveled in his final New York summer day and realized he had never seen something more beautiful. 

Well, maybe he has. 

Standing next to him, Eleanore Bullock gazes into the yellow sky - her chocolate brown eyes filled with so much amazement that she almost runs into a light pole. With a chesty chuckle, Houston gently pulls her arm to her side - saving her from a pole stricken headache. 

“You always do that, you know?” Houston's thick French accent notices, settling into the softness of Eleanore’s skin as they walk with their arms connected.

 Eleanore looks to Houston, questioning in her eyes. “Do what?” she questions. 

Houston smiles as they join eyes. She doesn’t even know what she does to me.

 “That,” he said with a gentle smile. Eleanore chuckles. “I’m not following,” she says honestly. 

Houston sighs. “That thing you do with your eyes. You look at everything like it’s…pure. Like there’s no wrong in whatever you’re looking at. You see the best in things, Elle,” he says truthfully, falling into the depths of her gaze. 

Like a shy schoolgirl, Eleanore’s cheeks heat in a warm blush; her eyelashes fluttering gently. “Well, I’ve never noticed it,” she jokes with a short chuckle. “But you know what you always do?” 

“Quoi?” Houston answers with a teasing raised eyebrow.

 Eleanore kisses her teeth. “Now is not the time for a french lesson, Houston!” Eleanore exclaims, her mind filled with so many miscellaneous words that she doesn’t know how she’ll ever unscramble them.

 Houston chuckles. “You’ve taught me many words, Elle. I need to return the favor. So..quoi. qu'est-ce que je fais toujours?” 

“What do I always do?” 

Eleanore smiles to herself when she easily translates his quick words. 

“You’re so observant. I mean, you see everything! You notice everything. Even the smallest things,” she explains in slight amazement. 

Houston nods in understanding. “Analytics is my thing. Doctors have to notice the small things. I don’t want to diagnose a patient with a common cold when he’s really had an infection the whole time. All because I didn’t notice the small details.” 

Eleanore smiles. “While the smallest things capture you the most, you have one flaw,” she counters. 

Houston’s eyebrow raises stiffly. “What’s the flaw?”

 Eleanore and Houston’s steps slow as they approach the looming brownstone at the end of the street they were dredging - standing between Eleanore’s house and Houston’s aunt - Maggie’s - house. Hesitantly, Eleanore pulls her arm from his. 

“You tend to strip over the big details. The things that are right in front of your face. Old folks say, ‘If it was a snake, it would’ve bit you,”’ she says with a soft chuckle

Houston stuffs his hands in his pockets. “Americans and their sayings,” he grumbles with a playful roll of his eyes. Eleanore plucks him playfully.

 “What have I missed Madame Elle? Hmm?” Houston says, taking a step closer to Eleanore. 

On the narrow sidewalk, Houston’s small step feels like a lifelong journey that has settled him almost chest to chest with Eleanore. Naturally, Eleanore cranes her neck to meet Houston’s tall and bulky structure. The sun hides behind his body and the heat coddles both of them, Eleanore falls into the softness of Houston’s features - a pit she’s gotten deeper into since the day they met on this sidewalk only three months prior.

 Houston can’t believe that so much has changed for him in only three months. Settling temporarily in America - in hopes of adapting before attending medical school - Houston didn’t think time would grant him something so special such a little amount. But the most special thing - the most beautiful thing was standing before him - in all of her pure, unadulterated glory. 

“What did I miss, Eleanore?” he reiterates. 

The two of them chuckle at his common butchering of her full name. Since it sounds foreign and crunchy in his mouth, Eleanore would much rather the sweetness of the whisper he releases when he says “Elle.” 

“I really don’t want you to leave, Houston,” Eleanore says, taken aback by her bluntness in such a vulnerable place.

 Eleanore could never quite understand how such a feeling could build in her stomach without ever feeling Houston’s intimate touch. Without ever indulging in the sweetness of his lips. It seemed from the first moment they stood on this broken concrete, that they were tethered together in some sort of divine connection that neither of them could understand or explain. And from that moment, they both knew that being on opposite sides of the world would pull their tethered string so tight - that their heart might just go with it. 

Houston chuckles at the confession, finally pulling his eyes away from Eleanore’s. “It’s crazy that you’ve waited the entire summer to finally tell me that,” he said.

 Eleanore rolls her eyes playfully. “Well, you’ve already known it. Why must I say what you already know?” she questions.

 “Because I wanted to see your face when you admitted what we’ve both known since the first time I laid eyes on you,” he confessed. 

The wind in the darkening sky seems to build up and center itself between Houston and Eleanore’s tense bodies, swiveling them into a whirlwind of unspoken emotions. Eleanore pushes through the tension, taking a step closer to Houston. Shakily, she rests her hand on Houston’s over the pocket of his pants.

 “Well, now we both know. And we both know we’re serious. I feel I’ve given you a reason to stay. Why can’t you?” Eleanore retorts.

 Houston has no objection to what Eleanore wants.

 In his mind, there’s nothing that can pull him from her. And he knows the feeling is mutual. However, he feels he has no time to answer such an unimportant question. Glancing at Eleanore’s plump and trembling lips - his priorities have shifted to turn the space between them into non-existence. The string between their beating and restless hearts pulls and pulls like an urging warning. Eleanore feels it strongly and it travels to the depths of her stomach. 

“Can you teach me something in French?” Eleanore questions.

 Breathless and too enthralled, Houston simply nods. Eleanore swallows hard.

“How do you say, “Kiss me” in french?” she questions as her chest feels with an intoxicating breath. 

Houston smiles, reaching to hold the end of Eleanore’s chin. She whimpers, burning at his touch. 

“Embrasse-moi”, he commands and teaches.

 “Embrasse-moi” Eleanore repeats, almost drooling in anticipation.

 And as Houston gently grabs the hull of her face, ready to sink into the softness of her pink lips - a shriek erupts like a gunshot in the beautiful sunset. 

“Houston! Houston!” a sorrowful scream breaks Houston from Eleanore. 

Eleanore quickly turns behind her, recognizing Maggie’s - her neighbor and Houston’s aunt - voice running down the stairs in a nightgown. Looking past her intimate nature, Eleanore stricken by the eyeliner streaked tears coming down Maggie’s face. To Eleanore, Margaret Quinn is one of the most elegant women she knows. Seeing her so broken sends a chill up her spine. 

“Tante Maggie! What’s the matter? Why are you crying?”, Houston rushes, stepping past Eleanore and running to catch Maggie’s falling body. 

Maggie collapses as Houston hoists her into his arms, enveloping her. 

“It’s Aimee”, she chokes, burying herself into Houston. 

Watching from a distance, Eleanore recognizes the name to be Houston’s mother. 

She’s waiting for him back in Paris.

 Houston frantically looks down to Maggie, searching her face worriedly. 

“Me meman? What about her? Is she okay?” Houston rushes.

 Sucking in a breath, Maggie gains all of her strength to scream

 “She’s dead! My lord, Aimee is dead!”

 Eleanore has always admired Houston’s bronze skin. She’s always loved how warm it felt in a short hug. She adores it. But in the moment that Maggie’s scream breaks the mold of her weeping sadness, Houston’s face drains itself of its color. His grip on Maggie loosens and she stumbles.

 “Houston, my darling. She’s gone,” Maggie weeps.

 “Mama,” Houston mutters, tears dripping from his eyes. Shell shocked, he looks out at Eleanore - whose body has frozen from the quickness of the events. She stumbles forward, reaching out for him. 

“Houston, I’m sorry,” is all she can muster.

 But it seems that Houston doesn’t even hear her. In fact, he gently sets Maggie down on the stoop of her brownstone, kissing her forehead and stoically dredging up the stairs. Eleanore runs up the steps, passing by Maggie. 

“Houston?” she calls, not quite sure what she’s calling for.

 But once again, it seems Houston just can’t hear her. 

As Eleanore calls his name with a burning lump in her throat, Houston retreats into Maggie’s brownstone, mumbling to himself as he closes the door behind him. Eleanore stands on the stoop next to Maggie, sealing her eyes as hot, prickling tears settle there. 

As her eyes fall, her mind makes a mental snapshot of her last memory of Houston Quinn - his back forever turned to her.

****

A/N: Hello beautiful people! If you don't know yet, my name is Kelsi and I'm a published romance author and poet! While I love the world of being able to share my sappy work with a bunch of willing readers, I've had the desire to get back to my roots - FAN FICTION! It never left me and I'm so happy that I'm writing again! Technically, all of my published work is some sort of fan fiction and this excerpt is no different. This snippet is the prologue of my next novel, "Signed, Mrs. Quinn" - a arranged marriage romance featuring these beautiful characters. It is set for release in August of this year! I hope this caught your attention and if you wanna know more about this book, following my instagram and tiktok - @allshedoesiswrites - for updates and drafting posts! I hope I caught your attention and i hope you stay and read awhile

A/N #2: What are your thoughts!? What do you think is next for Eleanore and Houston? Any predictions for the novel? Leave any suggestions, comments or requests for future stories in the comments! Share with all of your friends that would be interested! Thanks!

Xo, Kelsi💋

[kelsiwritesfics]

Hi! My name is Kelsi and I am a published romance author and poet!

While I write beautiful love stories and share them with the world, I wanted to return to my roots of writing fan fiction! Being the nerdy, hyper fixated, imaginative creative I am - I wanted to have the space to write in my favorite universes and about my favorite characters while also creating my own worlds!

I hope you stick around! And if you’re interesting in my standard work, feel free to find me on IG and TikTok! I hope to interact with a bunch of awesome people!

Much love, Kelsi💋