Notes: I reblogged a list of smut prompts the other day and people kindly sent some requests! Here's the first on. If smut's not your thing skip this one!

Hangover Cure

(Prompt: #46 - Booty call. Ended up an AHAU in which Instagram stalking ends up going well for Caroline. SMUT.)

Alertness comes slowly. Caroline is toasty warm, bedding pulled up to her chin and its Sunday. Sleeping in seems like a fantastic idea. It's the noise that prevents her from drifting off again, soft clinks and scrapes coming from her kitchen. She'd be alarmed but her memories of last night are mostly intact. A little fuzzy, a lot disjointed, but she's got the gist of it.

DrunkCaroline had done a stupid thing and consequences couldn't be avoided. SoberResponsibleCaroline always stocks up on water bottles and goldfish crackers before a night out and this is how she's repaid? Ugh.

DrunkCaroline has a number of questionable habits. SoberCaroline usually finds a half-eaten sandwich in her bathroom, a stolen pepper shaker in her purse, and has to use a whole lot of eye makeup remover to rid herself of smudged shadow, liquid liner and mascara flakes that hadn't been properly washed off before she'd crawled into bed.

Those are all minor nuisances in the grand scheme of things. It's DrunkCaroline's curiosity (helped along by her phone and various social media apps) and booze's magical to soak away her iron self-control that tends to cause trouble.

God, had she really texted Klaus Mikaelson at 2 AM last night? Was he seriously puttering around in her kitchen right now? Could she slip out her window, and down the fire escape, or was that crazy?

She's tempted to embrace the crazy for a minute but she figures Klaus is the kind of stubborn that would wait her out. No need to crank the awkward up even higher.

She'd have to remember to change her Instagram password to something really long and complicated the next time she meets the girls for 'Let's forget about our sucky week' drinks. SoberCaroline did not, as a rule, indulge in any form of ex-stalking. Well, not now. She'd grown out of it post-college, found that for the most part blissful ignorance of the goings ons of former loves was the way to go. DrunkCaroline, however, was weak. She can't resist the urge to deep dive into ex's online lives.

One in particular.

Which is silly. Klaus isn't even an actual ex. He'd just been a guy on vacation. Charming (though less so than he liked to think), fun, and great in bed. They'd only spent a handful of days together and she'd been the one to ixnay the idea of keeping in touch, rationalizing that getting attached to a guy who lived across the ocean was a terrible idea.

She refuses to consider why he'd lingered, why she keeps checking up on him. That would mean admitting that he's filed away in her mind as a missed opportunity, something that could have been amazing. That she might have made a mistake.

DrunkCaroline is less committed to denial.

Last night she'd scrolled through Klaus' Instagram (mostly arty scenic photos workspace close ups. A truly appalling lack of selfies). That hadn't been enough to satisfy her, as was usually the case. She'd moved on to his younger brother's account, admired the numerous gym shots (hot was hot, okay?) before moving on to Klaus sister's.

Possibly a little stalker-y, hence why it only happened when her inhibitions were low. She tells herself it's only natural, that the pretty package was the main draw, so scrolling through BeksMpress and KolOfTheWorld wasn't that weird. His siblings managed to get Klaus in a shot occasionally, though he often wore a look of irritation in the final picture.

That's how she'd found out he was in town. A badly lit pic of him in the bar where she'd met him last year had been the first thing on Rebekah's Instagram feed.

She's kind of embarrassed looking back. She'd whipped out her phone and sent a text as soon as she'd recognized the setting and checked the caption to confirm it wasn't an old image.

Caroline comforts herself with the knowledge that he'd shown up at her door twenty minutes later, that at least she wasn't alone in her eagerness. And Klaus hadn't seemed to mind being shoved against her door, nor her wandering hands.

He'd shut down anything too fun, batted away her attempts to open his fly with a shake of his head and a nip to the curve of her shoulder. Promised, his voice thick and unsteady, that he'd make it up to her in the morning when he was certain she'd remember.

Caroline's not sure if letting him is a good idea, if getting in any deeper is wise. But, judging from the sounds drifting into her bedroom, the scent of coffee percolating, Klaus isn't really giving her many options. He could have made a neat escape but he obviously didn't want to.

Maybe she'd lingered too.

Caroline throws the covers off, heaves her legs over the side of the bed. She winces as she sits upright, bones cracking and pain shooting through her head. There's a glass of water on her nightstand, a couple of painkillers.

Klaus' work and Caroline presses her lips together when she wants to smile. She suspects that 'getting in deeper' might just be inevitable.

She swallows the pills, chugs the water, lifts a hand to her head and finds that her hair is a disaster. A quick glance down tells her she'd changed into her comfiest (and least cute) pajamas at some point, and nope, that just won't do.

Klaus seems to be making himself at home. He can wait a couple minutes while she grabs a shower.

Just in case the conversation goes well and the making it up to her thing happens.

Klaus doesn't turn around when she emerges, but he lifts a spatula to wave over his shoulder, his attention focused on the stove.

Caroline can't even be mad about it because it gives her the freedom to get in a little ogling – he's shirtless, his jeans sitting low and his curls are flattened at the back and sticking up in odd directions.

She's wants to touch him, wonders how he'd react if she pressed herself to his back and set her lips to his shoulder. Resisting the temptation Caroline makes a beeline to the coffee pot and pours into the waiting mug. She leans a hip against the counter and reaches for the milk, trying to peer around Klaus without getting too close to the bare skin and smooth muscle that she's trying to avoid groping. He glances over, a small smile curling his lips. "Morning. How do you feel about omelettes?"

Didn't everyone like those? She edges closer, "Is there cheese involved?"

He huffs out a laugh, "Of course. That drawer was well stocked."

Caroline shrugs, "I went to the farmer's market yesterday. Gotta support my local artisans, right?" Taking the final few steps that separate them, she spies mushrooms and spinach sautéing in a second skillet. Caroline blinks, impressed. "Wow. Do you do this for all your booty calls? Because I have to say, this kind of effort is rare."

"No. Because I don't usually stay for breakfast."

He says it without a hint of humor, his eyes steady on her face and Caroline swallows her coffee quickly. "Be still my heart," she jokes.

Klaus isn't willing to let the mood lighten. His head tips slightly to the side, shrewd and measuring, "Does it surprise you that I want to spend more time with you, Caroline? It shouldn't."

"Maybe it does. I reached out to you, didn't I? You were in town and you didn't even let me know. What's a girl supposed to think?" She turns away from him, mentally cursing herself. She hadn't told Klaus how she'd known he was in Chicago and she really hopes he doesn't ask. He doesn't need to know her dirty little stalking secret.

He makes an impatient noise, and a pan clangs. Then he's stepping around her, into her path. "I sign a lease tomorrow. I was going to call you after I'd moved in, bought some furniture, in hopes that a little obvious permanence would convince you to date me."

Caroline freezes as his words sink in, "I…" she flounders for something to say but Klaus shakes his head, a hand coming up to cradle her jaw, slipping around the back of her neck. "Just say yes, love."

She's nodding immediately and he doesn't even need to urge her closer because she's reaching for him, splaying her hands over his sides, plastering her body to his. His mouth covers hers and he hums in satisfaction as he takes her lower lip between his. A hot swipe of his tongue coaxes her mouth open and his hips press into hers, urging her back towards the kitchen island. There's no teasing in the kiss, it's all urgency and heat, demands that Caroline's only too happy to parry. She rips her mouth away to suck in a breath, moans when his lips lands on her throat.

He's probably going to leave marks but Caroline can't bring herself to care.

"Wait," she gasps out, "gonna burn…"

"I turned it off."

Kind of a waste of good cheese but Klaus stripping her tank top away, one hand working the clasp of her bra as the other palms her breast, distracts her from the thought. Her nipple hardens as he strokes it, and she arches into his touch when her bra falls away. She makes a noise of protest when his hands leave her but when he yanks at the waistband of her leggings she eagerly assists. He goes to one knee, groaning when he finds she lacks an undergarment, dragging his lips across her stomach.

She kicks her pants away when she's wriggled them down and Klaus stands, his hands landing on her hips, boosting her up onto the countertop. Her thighs part and she buries her hands in his hair, pulling his mouth back to hers. She's got a little bit of a height advantage now and she uses it, tugging on the curls at the back of his neck until he moans, licking into his mouth. His hands span her waist, thumbs stroking just below her belly button, her muscles twitching as each pass drifts lower. She makes to squeeze her thighs together, needing a little pressure to alleviate the building ache, but Klaus is in the way. He pulls back enough to look at her, his eyes drifting open slowly before dropping, sweeping over her body.

A rough sound spills from him, and his hand wraps around her knee, urging her to open her legs wider. "I'd almost forgotten how very pretty you are."

She flushes, more in pleasure than embarrassment, fighting the urge to squirm. She can't help it when he ducks his head. Two fingers part her folds and Klaus presses a kiss to her clit, treats her to a few slow licks. Caroline falls back, catching herself on one hand, her hips arching up, "Oh god," she says shakily.

He straightens, a teasing smile curling his wet mouth as his fingers press inside of her. His tongue runs along his lower lip and Caroline watches the action raptly, her nails digging into the countertop. "I think," he says, light and almost cheerful, "That I promised to make you come when you were sober, didn't I?"

Caroline nods, quick frantic jerks of her head as she grinds against his hand.

His expression turns mischievous, "I could do that. Or I could make you work for it."

Her leg lifts, wrapping around him, her heel digging in until he sways closer. "Don't bait me when I'm hungover. I can be mean."

He leans in, lips just brushing hers, "I like your temper, Caroline. Surely you remember?"

"That's probably a good thing." She hadn't been having the best of days when he'd first fed her a line. She might have gotten a little snippy. She's thankful (most of the time) that Klaus had been persistent.

He sets his forehead to hers and smiles, heat tinged with a taunt as he feigns concern, "So sorry, love, you mentioned a hangover. Would you prefer a couple more painkillers? I could get breakfast going again?"

If he stops she might just kill him.

He curls his fingers inside of her, rubbing until she chokes out a moan, a lewd contrast to his solicitous words. Caroline shudders when he presses her clit with the heel of his hand. "Do you really want to piss me off now?" she manages, fighting not to pant. "With a whole day ahead of us? The more I get off the more you get off, you know."

He hums, actually appears to be considering his options and nope, not acceptable.

Caroline slips her free hand between them as her legs begin to quiver. Klaus doesn't try to stop her, proving he was just messing with her, the jerk. She slips her fingers under his, rubbing her clit in fast circles, hips jerking to take his fingers deeper. He watches her touch herself and she's gratified by the tenseness of his shoulders, the breaths he's struggling to keep even. They speed up their motions together, pushing her closer, and Caroline buries her face in his shoulder, muffling her cry in his skin as she tips over the edge, shaking against him as her orgasm hits. Klaus wraps his arm around her back just before hers gives out, saving her from flopping back against the island.

When she feels like she can string together coherent words she nudges him away, the leg she still has wrapped around him keeping him from going too far. She rests her hand low on his abdomen, slipping her fingertips underneath the waistband of his jeans. His muscles tighten under her touch and she flicks the button of his fly open though she doesn't hurry. "Endorphins," she murmurs, "Totally a natural hangover cure, right?"

Klaus nods, swaying towards her as she rakes her nails down the trail of hair that disappears into his boxer briefs. His teeth clench together when she wraps her hands around the base of him and he's not a whole lot of help in getting his pants off, his hands busy on her skin.

She'll probably forgive him. If he makes breakfast when they're done.