Chapter Text
THE FIRST MONTH of getting acquainted with Louisiana was hell. New Orleans was like every other beautiful place, nice to visit but hard to live in. The city brimmed with life, with never a dull day. It took her a week before she got tired of the endless festivals and cooped herself in her own room for some peace and quiet- blasting on the air condition.
Because most of all, New Orleans was humid.
Isabel Sulliven was used to the heat, originating in the Pacific before moving to California when she was 14. But the wet-like heat that clung through her skin was all the ways different from what she was used to. It was almost unbearable.
Though, it could be said that everything about NOLA was different from what she was used to. Because she wasn’t just in a different city, she was in a different reality.
Waking up after the plane crash while still being in the plane caused her mind to go into instant panic. A nightmare, they said. Instantly the attendants tried to calm her down, placing her in a well secured area to stop her from screaming. A trip to security and a call from her family later, everything was fine and her behavior was blamed over a nightmare.
Isabel continued on her way, just a little confused. Her new apartment was there, a beautiful loft in the French Quarter, and the hospital she got employed in still expected her. Her contact lists remained the same, her instagram, facebook, twitter, and even tumblr. There was nothing about her life that screamed something was out of the ordinary.
Nothing, but the change of color of her hair. From what was black had turned copper. Her waves were now a light, strawberry-blonde. She had it dyed black again immediately out of panic. Because no way was this shit actually happening.
Also, she was in the year 2013.
Which is funny, because she got on the plane in the year 2026.
It only got more confusing from there.
Meeting Davina Clair, from the tv-show The Originals was really what solidified her thoughts that she had really died and gone to hell. That, or her little shifting phase during the early 20’s quarantine did funky shit to her mind, and the last 7 minutes her brain had generated a place where she got to live her teenage fantasy-life.
The worst part of it all was that she didn’t even finish the Originals. Isabel liked the predecessor show more than what came out of it. Legacies had just come out and it wasn’t her kind of show either. It didn’t take long for her to drop the entire series, having gotten sick of the constant dark-looming feel the show provided. Great plot, but she was more comfort & fluff than angst & 0 happy endings.
Now she regretted the decision with every inch of her life, she only hoped that the wikipedia knowledge she had of the show would save her from dying.
It wasn’t even her favorite fantasy universe! She would have much preferred it if she was in Hogwarts. Or the Witcher. Or Doctor Who- but that was sci fi.
Her life was chaotic at best, but she loved it. Isabel worked as a nurse, never failing to volunteer in communities whenever she could. After a couple of years of working in San Diego, she had decided to move away. She lived a fulfilling life where she could help people without prying. Being so busy left a dent in her social life, but that was why she moved to New Orleans. A place where the party never stops, and she could finally plant down roots.
That was until Davina literally walked into her life without prompting. When Isabel had to keep her hysteria low, Davina had personally showed her ‘distant cousin’ around New Orleans.
Isabel didn’t even know how that was possible. She was Filipino. If by chance they were somehow related, it would have been from the colonial times.
And Davina Clair was of french descent, while Isabel Sulliven was of spaniard. And that was like hundreds of years ago.
When Davina told her she was free to join her coven, Isabel instantly declined and changed the conversation. She had made a list of plans on what to do while she was there, and at the very top of the list was to find a way to get out of New Orleans as fast as possible.
Still, apparently the regent-announcements were mandatory for every witch.
She was a witch. It didn’t sound right, at all. But it broke her fantasies of hanging out with Tom Riddle.
Isabel stood at the very back of the crowd, taking special note of everything Davina said. She was a sweet girl, one of her favorite characters from the show. But Isabel knew that everything she said was knowledge on how to dodge death.
She spent a good lot of her free time combing through grimoires, desperate to find a way back. Her plans had once been to enjoy her new life in a new place, but there was a part of her that was scared that she had switched with the real Isabel’s place.
Davina had been nothing but sweet to her, making sure that her cousin’s life would be as manageable as ever. It took a couple of hours scrolling through the internet for Isabel to find proof that they were actually related. But she did inevitably find pictures of them together in family gatherings.
To her, Isabel Sulliven was a witch who preferred the life of a human, and she respected that.
“You’d be safe here,” Davina said one time, the girl had just turned 17. “You don’t have to worry about anything.”
“Thank you,” Isabel grabbed her cousin’s hand tightly. “I’m glad that I have you here with me.”
Davina’s face softened, “Me too,” She leaned on her hand. “It’s nice to have a conversation with someone that isn’t about the end of the world.”
——————
Elijah took in the sight of her writhing against him. There was something to her that instantly drew him in, like a moth to a flame and a bee to a flower.
All it took was one lengthy conversation in the Rousseau’s, where he basically avoided Cami’s questioning eyes like it was the plague. He did not want her judgement or gaze. He very much wanted the woman who coyly looked at him when she asked if he ever read YA.
And she laughed it off, as if it was some silly inside joke.
She was undoubtedly beautiful, brown skin and hazel eyes. Skin so soft and supple like a pillow. He wanted nothing more than to bite into it, nibble her till she bruised, drink till she bled no more.
“Please,” Isabel Sulliven intertwined her fingers to his hair and gripped it tight, forcing him to look back at her face and away from her smooth body.
There was a part of him that argued with his desire, the never ending voice of reason that talked inside his head. It tried to remind him of the fates of Celeste, Hayley, and Gia. It failed miserably.
The monster inside of him saw her, and he had every intention to conquer. He could afford to indulge his desires every now and then.
“Please what?” His voice was barely a murmur against her lips, hovering gently through each breath. Her chest heaved, and he could see it flush with heat. The smell of her arousal was intoxicating. “Please what, Ms. Sulliven?”
Isabel crashed his lips with hers, letting heat spread throughout her entire body. “Please fuck me,” She had the nerve to bite on his bottom lip, nibble on them like it was the sweetest of marshmallows. “Please, please, please-“
He tossed her down to her bed, watching as she bounced. Her eyes were wide as he crawled towards her.
Isabel instantly reached back to his face, peppering it with kisses. He groaned when her mouth went down to his chest, her hands running through his body like she can’t get enough.
His dress shirt was long gone, she had tore it away from him the moment they went inside her apartment. Much like he tore through her clothes.
Elijah pinned her down, taking both hands into one of his own to place it on top of her head.
He brought his lips to her neck, inhaling in her scent. He kissed the juncture between the blades of her shoulder, his other hand going down to find her clit. She gasped when he pinched the bud in his hands, writhing once more to get out of his grasp.
“Stop teasing!” She gasped, “Elijah, please.”
There was a smile on his lips when she glared at him heatedly. Isabel was such a fierce little thing. “Do you know who I am?” He asked against her skin, his tongue flat as he licked the side of her collarbone, trailing saliva up to her neck to the underside of her jaw.
Her cheeks were rosy, and it contrasted beautifully against the tan of her skin. Her body tingled everywhere. It reminded him of the color of honey, and her sweat tasted much the same. He watched as she swallowed down another moan, the skin of her throat glistened.
“You’re Elijah Mikaelson.”
And she was the newest witch within the French Quarter, who attended more festivals than she did coven meetings. Elijah had once spotted her talking to Davina about her new job within the City. He hadn’t stopped thinking about her since.
“Then you should know you’re in no place to make such demands.”
Isabel quirked her head up. The curve of her breasts followed the movement, her pebbled nipples pointed and needy. “I could demand as much as I want,” she grunted when he gripped her inner thigh to open her legs wider, her eyes fluttering close when he grinded himself against her.
“You were saying?”
“Fuck,” She moaned again, “I want to touch you so bad. Let go of my hands.”
He pressed himself down further, encasing himself to her. Having her lithe body pressed up against his stroked his ego. “Needy little thing,” he nipped her neck in punishment, feeling delighted when she gasped. He slowly moved against her frame, letting his dick slide through her wet folds. It made both of them go mad with lust. He leaned to whisper to her ear, “Perhaps if you begged even more.”
“Fuck- please,” Isabel threw her head back, once again pulling her arms away from his grasp. She hadn’t expected him to be so demanding. He silenced her mouth with another kiss but growled when she bit his lip again. The smirk on her face was triumphant.
It was instantly wiped away when the head of his cock met her cunt, and he pushed his way in one quick thrust. He stopped completely when his head popped in.
“Beg,” He growled, angry at the hold she had over him. His head fell to the crook of her shoulder. The feel of her walls squeezing against him was enough to leave him panting. His very dead heart beating erratically against his chest. “You’re so tight,” He grunted when her walls squeezed him.
“Please,” Isabel cried out, her hips moving to earn at least some friction. It did nothing. She arched her body to his, nudging his head with hers to meet his eyes. “Please, Elijah. I need you to fuck me. Please, please, please-“ her mouth fell open as he shoved himself all the way in.
He let go of her hands, paying much more attention to the sweet line of her shoulders with his lips as he began shallowly thrusting himself in and out.
Her hands flew to his back, drawing up lines and raking it with her nails. She met his hips through every thrust, letting out tiny little gasps each time. Her hand gripped the back of his neck as she shuddered, her entire body tensing out as she came around his cock.
Elijah moaned at the feel of her cunt squeezing him out, lifting up her waist to pound into her with new vigor, pulling himself almost completely out each time. His grip on her skin was bruising. Isabel propped her elbows forward to kiss him once more, wrapping her arms around his head as he continued to fuck her.
“Harder,” She whispered to his ear, her tongue darted out to give it a lick. “Go harder,”
He pushed her down and took her thigh, pulling her leg up to his side to get in deeper.
“Minx,” He slapped her thigh, eliciting another gasp. His eyes fluttered close, he could feel the beginnings of his climax from the base of his spine. “You’re going to have to give me more. I wonder just how many times I can make you come from my cock alone.”
Her mouth fell open over his declaration, and he watched as her tongue darted out to lick her pretty lips.
Elijah had to stop the smile that threatened to break through his lips. “Do you like that?” he cooed, kissing her ankle.
“Maybe,” she whispered.
“What- was- that?” He enunciated each word with a sharp thrust of his hips, before letting himself slip out completely. Isabel sent him another glare.
“Why are you like this?” It came out as a high pitched whine, and truly, she had no idea just how hard he went.
He answered her with a slow roll, watching the hazels of her eyes disappear as he slowly eased his way back in. “Like what?” Elijah asked innocently, continuing the slow pace. He fell on top of her body, her leg thankfully flexible enough to keep her wide open. His lips found her neck once more, and he gave it fluttering little kisses when it pulsed beneath his touch.
It was so tempting to simply bite down, but there was a huge part of him that told him to wait.
Her fingers were hot against his skin, and he shivered almost involuntarily when she trailed his jaw, moving his head to hers to kiss him again. The sound of their skin slapping together loud in his ears. His hand moved down to tweak her nipples. It didn’t take long to turn her once again into a moaning mess.
“One more,” He murmured to her lips, his pubic bone brushing into her clit with each forward stroke. “Cum for me.”
The command coated his cock with her wetness, and she tensed up again, gasping. She held unto him tightly, eyes screwing shut as she was taken over once again, “Elijah-“ she moaned, “Elijah, you feel so good.”
“So responsive…” He moved to cradle her head, looking down to see himself disappear again and again inside of her. Thrust. Thrust. Thrust. “I’m so close.” He shuddered, his hips snapping harsher against hers to catch his own high.
His hand moved towards her swan-like neck, giving it a light but firm squeeze.
“Yesyesyes,“ she gasped, arching against his body, “Please, come inside me.”
He breathed her scent in heavily, he willed the veins in his eyes to stop writhing. His fangs almost barred from his gums. “One more,” he grunted, nestling his head between the juncture of her neck and head. “Come on, give me one more.”
Isabel choked back a sob when his hand moved to her clit once more, circling the bud with his thumb. “Fuck!” She groaned, “Fuck!”
His teeth instantly latched on to her neck as she came, her high mixing with his. The groan that came out of his mouth unstoppable when he pulsed inside of her, heaving out his hot cum. He bit in deeper.
The puncture of his teeth didn’t stop, refusing to retract so he could drink her blood. Instead they stayed in, and he pinned her in place as she writhed against his steady body, feeling his essence wash all over her. He let out another low moan when her cunt contracted around him.
She gasped out when he began licking at the wound, careful to not let any of her blood out of his mouth. When she moved again to try and pry him off of her, he growled and pushed her deeper into the mattress. He was still deep within his high, his cock twitching uncontrollably inside her. He drank her blood greedily.
Isabel closed her eyes, tilting her head further to allow him full access over her neck.
She languidly ran her fingers through his hair, almost as if to soothe him. When he was done, he looked at her with wide eyes and bloodied lips.
“Ms. Sulliven-“ He said her name out in horror, his rational side finally winning out (it was already too late). His hand gently moved to inspect the wound. Surprisingly he hadn’t drained her dry. He pulled away his cock from her body, running a hand through her hair when she winced.
“You can call me Isabel, if you’d like.” The wound on her neck both stung and not. She breathed in hard, her body still singing with pleasure. Seeing Elijah Mikaelson at the Rousseau’s was a scary but pleasant surprise, it only got better when he showed he had an interest in her.
It was fine, as long as he wasn’t interested interested. They were both grown adults. Sex was sex, after all.
Elijah quickly bit into his own wrist, bringing it up to her lips.
“It’s fine-“
“I insist,” He murmured, carefully drawing her to his chest. Her body was already forming bruises from his rough handling. “I must apologize-“ He cut off with a gasp when her tongue licked through his wound. His breath labored, and he blinked hazily.
Isabel was much the same, her eyes falling close as she was practically fed with ambrosia. She leaned her head down to his chest when she was done, letting his hand fall down but not without intertwining it with hers. The wound on her neck tingled and pulsed, but it slowly began to heal.
Elijah’s eyes narrowed at the sight, feeling tempted to bite her again to make the healing process stop. His jaw clenched and he looked away to get the haze in his mind away. Once it was clear, and the slow breathing of Isabel indicated that she was asleep, he realized just what exactly he had done.
To test if he was right, he let a finger trail over her neck, feeling a surge of protectiveness when his hand got closer to his mark, it still hasn’t disappeared despite his blood in her veins. If anything, it probably encouraged the damn thing. Isabel whimpered in her sleep, nuzzling her face closer to him.
His arms wrapped around her frame, and soon he too succumbed to the overwhelming drawl of sleep.