AN: This is a drabble for Sophie (champagne-in-nola) as an incentive for her Save Klaroline Magazine donation. Thank you so much for your generosity and I hope you like it :)
Little nsfw.
"I would love a drabble inspired by the fundraiser. Caroline is a reporter who needs a story to save her magazine/her job. So she obviously decides to track down the notorious Klaus Mikaelson. It can be as au, human, supernatural as the writer wants it to be."
"Forbes, this newspaper is like my baby, I can't let them shut it down! Do something!" Alaric's angry yells echoed through offices of French Quarter Journal, a magazine that Caroline had been working at for the last 2 years, since graduation.
It wasn't Vogue, alright, but she had to start somewhere and the eclectic atmosphere of New Orleans kept her on her toes.
Right now though, after her editor-in-chief's meeting with the board, it seemed like Caroline could be out of the job pretty soon.
Yet, her sympathy towards Alaric was severely limited. Actually, she did her best to hold back the biting tone and a few harsh truths that had been lingering on the tip of her tongue.
Like, maybe, maybe, if he was so attached to the magazine, he should've focused more on the engaging stories rather than trying to push his own political agendas and opinions, preaching to the choir that just didn't exist in New Orleans.
"Ric, I don't want to see this magazine get shot down either. But…" she didn't get to finish this sentence.
Alaric cut right in, "Excellent, we're on the same page then. Now, go find me a story. Find me anything!"
She was one moment from telling him where exactly he could shove his orders. On the second thought, though, if there was a slightest chance he would stay at his current position when they saved the magazine (and with Caroline's conviction, it would be a matter of when, not if), she would like to keep her job. So perhaps insulting her boss wasn't the best idea.
Instead, she just shot him Caroline Forbes' patented you're dead to me glare and marched out of his office like a woman on a mission.
Do something, she heaved.
But what?
Caroline sank on her chair and buried her face in her hands, missing the sympathetic look Enzo sent her from across the desk.
"That bad, huh? Ric finally went bonkers?" he asked, feet propped nonchalantly against the wooden surface.
Her head shooting upwards, she spared him a glance full of exasperation. It was a telling sign of Caroline's distress that she hadn't smacked his filthy boots from her pristine desk. "Pretty much. It's like he expects me to single-handedly save the magazine. Typical," she huffed her annoyance.
"Lazy wonker," Enzo agreed with venom oozing from his tone. He was working at the magazine part-time, doing investigative gigs, and the meager pay Alaric had hired him for didn't make the Brit the biggest fan of their boss. Quite the opposite, really.
She smirked at that, satisfaction sipping in her tone, "Well, it's a good thing the board is so fed up with Alaric that they gave me and the rest of the editors a free hand. He doesn't call the shots anymore."
"So what is it, Gorgeous? Don't you have any ideas how to revive this wretched rag?"
"Have you met me? I have tons of ideas but in the end, it's not enough. We need more advertisers and those will only come if we have some big names attached to the magazine. Names bringing in more readers," Caroline explained patiently, already fetching her organizer to start a list of the these appropriate names.
Nodding in agreement, Enzo started studying her curiously as she relentlessly scribbled down possible candidates and categorized them at the same time.
Sometimes her organizational skills terrified him.
And yet, his friend seemed oblivious to the most obvious solution. "You know what you have to do, right?" Enzo's self-satisfied voice prompted the blonde to glance at him and his smug knowing grin made her froze.
"No," she balked, pointing a finger at him.
Which made him nod even more enthusiastically, "Yep. Come on, Gorgeous, you know it's the only solution. He used to be a star here."
"You're right. Used to be," she wasn't caving in.
"Someone protests too much, methinks," he teased her, mischief dancing in his eyes. "Not so keen on renewing an acquaintance with the gentleman?"
The words he used made her snort, "Gentleman, my ass." Upon Enzo's insisting stare, she went on, "Look, he will never go for it. One, last I heard, he owns an art gallery now and only does photo shoots for National Geographic from time to time. Two, he's a dick. Actually, that should've been reason number one."
"Come now, Gorgeous, let's not pretend. We all know Klaus would happily made a photo shoot of roasted potatoes, if you were the one to ask him."
"I'm not even sure where he lives now. He disappeared off the face off the earth like a year ago," Caroline argued.
Enzo noticed she didn't deny his earlier statement. Interesting. Leaning back comfortably, he goaded her further, "Excuses, excuses. Never took you for a quitter, Gorgeous. How the mighty have fallen."
Ocean blue eyes narrowing to thin slits, she glared at him. "I am not a quitter. You know what? You're the investigator. So do your job and investigate. Let's find Mr. Royal Ass," she seethed as she got up. "And get your filthy boots off my desk," she added sweetly, while knocking his feet off the said furniture, almost making him fall down from the swivel chair.
[Argentina, A few days later]
Caroline was freaking exhausted. She had arrived at Buenos Aires hours ago and promptly checked into a hotel, only to leave it after a quick shower and a change of clothes. The truck she had reserved beforehand was waiting for her at the rental place nearby. All she had left to do was hop in and drive approximately 30 miles south of the city.
With his investigative abilities - which, Caroline was certain, included mainly annoying information out of people and sometimes seducing it out of them - Enzo had tracked Klaus down to Argentina, happily living in a hacienda just outside of Buenos Aires.
Well, Mikaelson had always been one fancy bastard.
Of course, he couldn't have made it easy for her and live somewhere in a city, preferably in the States so that she wouldn't be forced to spring a small fortune of a plane ticket.
She was so getting a refund for all the costs.
Even with all her preparations, she wasn't entirely ready for the drive on a bumpy dusty road. The sun was blazing and the air was dump, sweat clinging to her skin along with the dirt stirred up by the tires. The faster she drove, the worse it got. She thought it actually couldn't get any worse but universe decided to take up her challenge.
Air-conditioning in her car broke down.
Soon, instead of singing along to Taylor Swift and destressing before the dreadful meeting, Caroline was left cursing absolutely everyone and everything.
But mostly, she was cursing Klaus Mikaelson and the possibility of working with him again.
He wasn't a bad co-worker. It wasn't that at all.
He was insufferable.
So sure, he was inventive and could be quite charming and helpful, providing it suited his interests. But goddamit, Caroline couldn't stand his constant flirting and smug I've-slept-with-half-of-NOLA attitude. It was bad enough that most of women (and some men) working for the magazine appeared to be enamoured with him, and yet, Klaus seemed to be set on getting into her panties.
Well, he wouldn't.
Not exactly true, sweetheart, a raspy voice whispered in Caroline's mind, the self-satisfied tone suspiciously familiar.
Annoyed at herself, she bit her lower lip, rubbing her thighs together despite herself at the memory.
Yes, there had been that one time.
The woods.
[Flashback - a year ago]
Camping in the woods certainly wasn't one of Caroline's favourite pastimes. But that was where they had gone for this year's company retrieve and there was nothing she could do about it.
Here they all were, Just In The Middle Of Nowhere, Louisiana, and Klaus had been more annoying than ever.
He could be so stalkery and so annoyingly perfect at the same, setting up his tent just next to hers and then offering help with her own, in the sweetest manner possible.
Sometimes, she really had trouble recalling why exactly she'd decided to hate him. Klaus was clearly interested, had been for quite a while, and it was such a hard work to pretend his every little touch didn't set her skin on fire. True, her friends hated him, which was perfectly understandable given how he was a jerk to pretty much anyone who wasn't her. That probably should tell her something but Caroline was set on believing his different attitude had solely to do with charming her into his bed.
And these last few days, he'd seemed more determined than ever, always staying in her proximity. Squeezing in to sit next to her during bonfire, the rough fabric of his pants rubbing against her thigh. Whispering in her ear as they talked, till she couldn't tell if the blush creeping up on her cheeks was from the fire before them or the one he had set ablaze under her skin. His hand protectively hovering over the small of her back when they would hike through the woods, sending shivers up her spine with his touch.
This afternoon, to escape his haunting presence, she'd ventured away from the camp, under the pretext of getting wood for the bonfire. Rambling through the rough terrain and collecting twigs was so not her definition of fun but still...
Desperate times called for desperate measures.
She wasn't sure whether she would slap him or jump him the next time he would brush a loose curl behind her ear and that wasn't a risk Caroline was willing to take.
"Need some help, love?" A raspy timbre of his voice scratched against her skin, spreading goosebumps all over it.
She closed her eyes in an attempt to find her composure. Of course he found her. With a perfectly schooled expression of polite indifference on her face, she turned to him and replied, "Not at all. I was just finished with it, anyway."
Despite trying so damn hard, she couldn't pull her gaze away from him. Why did his lips have to look so delicious and perfectly kissable? Or those lean muscles, peeking through the fabric of his signature shirt, playing on her imagination. She could almost see herself grabbing him by his necklaces and pulling him in to sneak her curious hand under that henley and get acquainted with his body.
Her thoughts must have shown on her face because Klaus' eyes shone with amusement as he stalked towards her in slow, purposeful strides. "It's getting late, you know. Wouldn't want you to get lost and get caught by the big bad wolf," he crooned as he got closer and closer.
Holding his gaze, Caroline took a few steps back, till she collided with a tree behind her. "Well, it looks like he's already found me," she shot back, jutting her jaw defiantly.
His smirk was dangerous, as though he was intend on devouring her in the middle of the woods - and perhaps he was. With hands splayed on either side of her head, he got her trapped between his body and the tree. "And what shall I do with you?"
Involuntarily, she licked her lips and his gaze darkened momentarily. He wasn't just playing anymore. His hot breath brushed against her cheek as his nose grazed her ear. Neck. The line of her jaw. He was standing so dangerously close to her, she could hear him taking a deep long breath, an inhale of her scent. She gulped and the silence around them was so profound, they could both hear it, probably as well as the rapid beating of her heart. Then there was his mouth, looming over her face, the luscious raspberry lines that nudged her nose and threatened kisses in the far corners of her eyes.
Caroline only wanted to steal a quick glance but the moment her gaze locked with his, she couldn't look away. Her breath hitched when she felt Klaus' finger skimming along her side, down from her hipbone to the swell of her breast. Silence loomed over them and it was the loudest kind, sizzling with little jolts of electricity. Her hand darted forward, closing on his stubble. His lips curled in a smile at that and all it took, all it really took, was a freaking dimple popping up on his face.
And she thought -
Well, screw it.
Screw h i m.
It a matter of seconds, they were locked in a tight embrace, pulling at their clothes, lips clashing in a kiss that was all hunger and teeth. His tongue delved into her mouth, hot and plundering. With fingers combing through her curls, he angled Caroline's head to deepen the kiss, molding her closer against his frame. Deep from her throat, a moan escaped her lips as he hit the roof of her mouth with his tongue.
Her skin prickled under his skillful touch, his free hand wandering over her thighs. As his fingers slowly neared the button of her jeans, circling it playfully, Klaus drew back and bored his eyes into her, a silent question in his gaze.
It seemed the time stopped for a moment and there was only the gust of wind and the rustling of the leaves under their feet. His breath came in ragged gasps while he awaited her response. Then, her body turned pliant in his arms and her head shifted in the most subtle nod as she reached out to trace his dimples with her forefinger.
In a heartbeat, the button was ripped off and her bra pulled down along with her top, shoulder straps torn off. Caroline shrieked at the contact of her bare skin with the bark of the tree. She wasn't sure when exactly Klaus got rid of her jacket but with the way his hand dived under the soaked fabric of her panties, she wasn't going to complain.
"Yes," she hummed when two fingers plunged into her pussy, her nails digging into his shoulders. Rutting against his hand, she hooked one leg around his hips. With thumb pressed to her clit, Klaus curled his digits, reaching just the right spot. She felt so slick and hot and tight around his fingers and then there he was, with mouth hovering over her ear to whisper sweet nothings in that sinfully hoarse voice.
It was too much. Caroline shuddered, her teeth sinking into his arm in an attempt to stifle an embarrassingly loud moan.
He was too cocky as it was.
"Ouch," he complained playfully, his hand kneading the thigh locked around his hips. "Liking it a little rough, sweetheart?"
Her lips trailed the path along the line of his shoulder and neck, tongue and teeth scraping his earlobe. A satisfied smirk curved Caroline's mouth as he visibly shivered at her ministrations. "Stop talking," she whispered before biting on his ear as well.
Pushing another finger into her heat, he slowed down his movements, at the same time going So. Much. Deeper. "Too distracting for you?" Oh, his tone was so painfully smug.
"Just think…" Caroline managed to groan. It was hard to focus, with his thumb rubbing her clit in slow tantalizing slides. "You can put…" - his fingers brushed against her g-spot - "your mouth…" - another strangled moan - "to a better use," she cried out, her hand fisting in his hair as she arched her back, riding the most toe-curling orgasm she'd ever had.
Her lids heavy and eyes fogged with lust, she watched like hypnotized as he extracted his fingers, moving them to his mouth and licking off the remnants of her pleasure.
Tasting her.
His smile was wicked. "You have no idea," he purred, lowering himself down her trembling body.
Caroline's hand snapped to stop him. "Later," she breathed out when Klaus looked at her questioningly. "I need you in me. Now." Her tone commanded while her fingers latched into the fabric of his pants and yanked them down in a swift move.
They went back to the camp way past midnight.
And by that time, Caroline had learnt exactly how many uses Klaus could make of his mouth.
Caroline let out a long frustrated sigh as the memories flooded her mind.
She got hot all over just by thinking about it and it had nothing to do with the blistering heat of Buenos Aires.
They hadn't talked about that day afterwards, even though Klaus had tried to. It had been awkward at first, sure, but Caroline had been determined to put it past them.
Although the truth was, there was one main, true reason, Caroline didn't want to work with Klaus again.
Because, as much as she'd loved to deny it, the man just got her. There was this connection between them, understanding of one another that never quite needed words.
And damn, if that hadn't scared her.
If they started working together again, there would be no skirting around it. "Time to face the big bad wolf then," she mused to herself as the lines of hacienda started to emerge before her.
Just then her car decided to get a flat tyre.
Freaking fantastic.
After calling for help, because of course the car didn't have a spare, Caroline slumped onto the front seat, head banging into the steering wheel.
She knew it was ridiculous, waiting for road assistance, probably for hours, when Klaus' house was literally minutes away.
She just hoped he wouldn't notice the car.
"Hello, Caroline." A familiar lilting accent sang in her ears, making her jump in her seat.
"Dammit, Klaus, you startled me!" she whined, clutching her chest. It didn't help one bit that she was so wound up from her trip down memory lane earlier. It only got worse when she cast her eyes up to him, taking in his appearance.
Damn, he looked good.
His hair had this sandy streaks, clearly lightened by the sun, his lips the same crimson shade that had tempted her to nibble on them for hours that day in the woods. Muscles flexed under his white t-shirt that had smudges of paint on it. There was also a little paint splattered on his cheek.
His brow raised at her words and there was this irritating grin already forming on his face. "Forgive me love, but you're the one trespassing on my property," Klaus drawled.
"I'm not trespassing. I'm...visiting." She got out of car, angrily shutting the door.
"Visiting? Missed me, then?" His tone was insufferably smug, which wasn't that unusual for him.
Leaning against the car, Caroline glared at him, "Don't flatter yourself. Is this country big enough for your ego?"
"How you wound me, love. Well, if it's not a social call, perhaps you're here on business? Something to do with that magazine Alaric had dragged to the bloody bottom?"
"How do you know about that?" Surprise echoed in her voice.
Hands in his pockets, his smile was almost innocent. Almost. "Just because I'm here doesn't mean I'm not keeping tabs, love."
"On me?!" she screeched. "How dare you?!"
"Oh, but you know I dare a great many things, Caroline," he purred, his tone dripping with innuendo as he inched closer.
She gulped, thinking of an answer while simultaneously trying not to stare at him.
"I suppose he sent you to persuade me to come back?" he continued.
For days, Caroline had been preparing for seeing Klaus again and getting him to freelance for the magazine (there had been charts and pros-and-cons lists and all). Of course, in his typical fashion, he proved all those plans useless. Still slightly bewildered (and angry) over the fact that he had been following her career, the blonde decided to win him over with honesty.
"No, Alaric didn't send me, he doesn't even know I'm here. But yes, I thought convincing you to go back would be the best way to save the magazine. As much as it pains me to say it, you're like a freaking legend in NOLA, okay? If word got around that you're working in FQ Journal again, we'd get our prime advertisers back. It wouldn't even need to be full-time, just a photo shoot here and there," she rambled without meaning to.
He seemed to revel in her voice, the corners of his mouth lifting in a warm smile. "Flattery might just get you everywhere. "But…" he trailed off, taking one more step towards Caroline, until she was almost trapped between him and the car, "What's in it for me?"
"What?" she stammered as his musky scent hit her nostrils.
"Say I'll agree to this. Say I will go back to help your little magazine. What do I get out of this deal?"
Her brows furrowed, Caroline took little time to ponder the question. "I don't know, what do you want, Klaus?"
His features lit up in a cheshire grin. Pulling back a few inches, as if not to crowd her, he simply replied, "A date."
"A date?" she chuckled. "You're impossible, you know that? Good to know I have completely wasted my time here." Sending him her patented death stare, she went on to hop in the car.
"I'm quite serious, love." His hand closed over hers when she placed it on the door handle. "The question is, how dedicated are you to saving that rag?"
Why did his touch have to be so distracting? Her skin tingled with awareness of his proximity. Better to get this over with as soon as possible. "Just a date?" she asked incredulously.
"Just a date. No expectations, no strings attached, no hidden agendas. Just on the condition that you'll be willing to give me a chance," he murmured, his thumb stroking her knuckles.
Caroline didn't know why exactly, perhaps because his words felt so heartfelt, and actually genuine but she found herself saying, "Okay, then. We have a deal."
His smirk should've told her then what she got to know much later.
This deal would last a lifetime.
Thank you for reading and all your wonderful support :) Please share your thoughts!
Till next time!
