#iruka about to grab the soap

[hellcifrogs]

Iruka disapproves the use of foul language, but Naruto already taught Kiba and Kankuro, and they won't stop saying it

None of you have learned these from me!

[wooobuddyletsgetnasty]

shower sex w/ kakashi, and iruka 

shower sex is risky, and if u want to try it please take proper precautions so you don’t break ur neck. 

u know the warnings, there be sex in here. if u no like sex, don’t read pls. 

KAKASHI:

~Not a really big fan of shower sex to start out with

~He always ends up with water in his mouth, and then he’s drowning and that just isn’t sexy

~However, once he gets the hang of it, you will never take a shower alone 

~He’s always right there, completely naked, whenever you even think about taking a shower 

~He likes to have you keep your foot on the ledge of where ever you can reach because the angle he hits like that makes you keen and squirm 

~And his favorite thing to do is make you squirm 

~Will be sure to make sure you are steady, the man will never let you fall

~And if you do fall, he’s going down with you

~And now he probably just broke his dick but at least you don’t have a concussion

~Overall, it would be his honor to rail you into next week while completely naked, and wet

~He’s sure he’s had a dream like this once

IRUKA:

~For one, Iruka thinks showers are for showering, not for sex

~But he is willing to shower with you, no problem

~Throw hints at him

~Drop the soap

~Offer to wash his dick ( “I can reach parts you can’t! It’ll be great!” )

~Slow sex in the shower is easier to pull off than any other kind of sex, so Iruka really is the man for this

~He will never let you fall

~Will remind you to grab something, like the ledge of the bathtub so you don’t wipe out and take him with you

~Also, if you hold on the ledge of the bathtub- Iruka hits an angle that has you seeing fucking stars

~Will wash your hair after- awweeee

~It’s not the most ideal place he’d like to fuck you, but he’s more than willing

~Likes morning sex in the shower, thinks it’s a good start to the day

[karikarasuno]

Tea for Two

Pairing: Kakashi Hatake x Fem!Reader

Rating: Explicit

Warnings: Domestic Fluff (I’m sorry it’s all I think about), Established Relationship, Teensy bit of Angsty Feelings, Kakashi being a Teasing Bastard, Smut (18+ only), Subby Kakashi, Overall Very Soft

Word Count: 4.9k

a/n: Ok, this is a product of vicariously living through @lady-lunaaa who is watching the series for the first time. I am currently reliving all the love, heartbreak, and thirst all over again and am having the time of my life. My love for this man has only multiplied while watching her fall for him too. So, this is for you babes. Let’s cry at the fluff together. I was also far too lazy to make a banner, so enjoy the fun gif.

The water was hot on the soft skin of your hands. The soap lathering the dishes in cloudy suds as you scrubbed off the remnants of dinner. A contented hum smoothed over your cells, every fiber in your body satisfied after so many nights spent eating alone. You were happy with the extra dishes you had to wash, the pots and pans that overflowed the small sink after you cooked for two, smiling bashfully to yourself as you noticed the uniform vest draped across the counter, disregarded weapons thrown thoughtlessly over the small dining table.

You dried your hands on the damp dish rag by the sink. The sound of the water running in the bathroom was a steadying reminder that he was back home, only a few feet away. His mission ran long, as did most these days. You hadn’t heard from him for days after he was scheduled to come back. You always tried not to worry when things like this happened, you knew he was more than capable of holding his own, but you couldn’t help it. The unpleasant thoughts culminating recklessly with each passing day until he burst through your door late last night, utterly exhausted with smudges of dirt pressed into his clothing.

The shower squeaked shut, droplets of water tapping the tub as the kettle over the stove top began to ring sharply, drawing you out of your spiral. You grabbed two mugs from the cupboard after you pulled the kettle off the heat, laughing softly as you admired the charming chip on the rim of one. Your finger sliding over the crack, fondly recalling the disaster of your first date.

It was a chilly autumn afternoon, the kids had just gone home for the day as you sat around tidying the mess they inevitably left in the classroom. The sun was close to setting, warm rays of the fading light cut through the large windows. You could still see them from here, your students trotting out of the academy doors, pushing and pulling on each other as they rushed out.

“I can never quite understand how you deal with so many of them all day,” the vibrating tenor of Kakashi’s voice startling you in the still room, the papers you had gathered slipping through your fingers with the sudden jolt of your body.

“Shit,” you gasped, watching the papers flutter to the floor. You heard a deep chuckle from beside you, his lean frame bending down to pick up the new mess.

“Language, Sensei,” he teased, looking up at you with a glimmer of sarcasm sparking in his gaze. “Wouldn’t want any of your students to hear you.”

“No, not my angelic students overhearing me,” you lifted your hand to your open mouth, gasping dramatically at him. He squinted at you, his annoyance contradicted by the upturned corner of his lips beneath his mask.

“What’re you doing here anyway?” You raised an eyebrow at him, reaching over to grab the papers he was holding out to you.

“Had a meeting with Iruka,” he shrugged. “Noticed you were still here and wanted to see if you wanted to grab some dinner.”

“You asking me on a date, Kakashi?” You questioned with a wink, a teasing grin stretching your features.

The direct light of the sun reflected off his headband. “Yes,” he hummed, the playful nature he seemed to always carry around you disappearing and for a brief moment you saw what all his opponents did. An unwavering determination, his fixed stare tensing your muscles as you shuddered under it.

“If that’s what you want of course.” Your mouth went dry, the papers crinkling in your grasp as you stared back at him. “Sure,” you swallowed. “I’d like that.”

The ramen was hot that evening. In your haste to order, you fumbled the number on the menu, ending up with something spicy. It’s not like your tolerance was awful but after a few bites you felt sweat begin to bead on the bridge of your nose, your eyes watering slightly at the building heat.

“How you doing over there?” You looked up at him from your bowl of noodles, his mask pulled down, the fabric bunching around his neck. It was rare to see him without it, his strong features even more handsome under the yellow lowlights dangling from above. He caught you off guard, the shock evident in the way you hesitated to respond. “Fine,” you cleared your throat, grabbing a napkin to wipe at your face. “Just a little spicy,” you sniffled.

“Here,” he grabbed your bowl in one hand, swapping it for his. “You’re just lucky I didn’t order my usual,” he chuckled, placing your chopsticks in his meal.

“You really don’t have to do that,” you feel your face burning, your body flushing with appreciative heat.

“Oh, I know,” the typical playful tone returning.

He’d paid for dinner, waving you off as you reached for your wallet to pay your half. With a full stomach and his mask pulled snugly over his face again, the nervous cluster hanging over your head was clearing and you said yes when he offered to walk you home. This didn’t feel much different than all your late nights training together or the evenings where everyone had the chance to finally hang out, except it was just the two of you and it was nice. He walked you up the steps to your door, the date drawing to a close far quicker than you wanted.

“Wanna come in?” It was supposed to come out casual, like it usually did but the tension in your tone gave your awkwardness away, making you feel a bit presumptuous. “I mean… for tea?”

You resisted the urge to cringe, the feeling eating away at you as he stared at you amusedly. “I’d love tea.” You could hear the laughter in his voice as he took a step closer to you, the headband slanted across his forehead slipping down slightly. You reached for it, readjusting the material into its proper position, the intimacy of the moment dawning on you after you brushed your fingertips over the exposed skin.

You pulled your hand back once you noticed the corner of his eye wrinkling, a low chuckle rumbling through him as you dug your keys from your bag and unlocked the door. You switched on the lights upon entrance, quietly cursing yourself when you noticed the small mess around your apartment- papers and tools covering the dining and coffee tables from last week. “Don’t mind the...” you waved around, embarrassed.

“I don’t mind. It feels lived in,” he said as he followed you further in. “A lot different from my place,” he added in a whisper, his tone faraway and distant.

You hadn’t responded, the look in his eye as he scanned your home almost sad so you left him to look around and started on the tea, not wanting to interrupt his train of thought if he didn’t want to talk about it.

“You have any preference on what kind?”

“Whatever you have is fine,” he turned to look at you as you pulled two matching mugs from the cupboard.

“Why do you have all of this?” He was rummaging through the documents scattered over your coffee table, the steam from the boiling water misting stickily over your face as you prepped the drinks.

“I know it’s not very shinobi-like of me, but we have an hour of art everyday,” you smiled as you walked over to sit beside him on the floor. “Mainly for my sanity, but some of the kids don’t really have anyone to give them to, so they give them to me. And I don’t have the heart to just throw’em away.”

You set the cups down on the few places not covering the solid wood, moving to pick up one of the macaroni pieces that was more dried glue than anything else.

“Now that’s a masterpiece,” he took the artwork from you, thumbing at a large glob of glue that was leaking out of a noodle.

“Hey hey,” you snatched it away from him and placed it on the ground. “You’re not allowed to make fun, I’d like to see you do better.”

“I’m not so sure I have the artistic ability to top that,” he pointed in your direction before grabbing his tea and pulling his mask down to blow at the rippling liquid. You were staring, too shamelessly to realize and look away and you watched as his lips cupped the rim and he took a short sip.

“Yes?” He side-eyed you, smirking smugly through his second sip.

You blinked hard at him, chewing into your cheek to keep from laughing. “Is it good?”

“It’s… green tea,” your eyes widened in horror, lips parted in disbelief.

“Don’t tell me you don’t like green tea.” His shoulders shook with silent laughter, his face tilted away from you.

“Give it back,” you reached across his body, plucking the mug from him and holding it to your chest. “I cannot believe this. Green tea is the most versatile tea, how could you not like it?”

He extended his hand requesting it back, chuckling softly at your reaction. “Listen, it’s not that I don’t like it. It’s just not my tea of choice. Now hand it over,” he wagged his fingers at you.

You shook your head no, turning your upper body away fully aware of your childish antics, biting into your bottom lip to choke down your laugh. He quirked his eyebrow at you when you attempted to push it out of his reach, but his reflexes were too fast. His body hovered over yours as his fingers gripped the rim, making yours tighten because you were too stubborn to release it. The tussle forced a giggle from your chest right before it slipped from your hands, the contents splattering to the floor, a chunk of the ceramic chipping cleanly off the edge.

His hand was wrapped around your wrist, your eyes following the spill to the newly chipped mug and then finally Kakashi. His gaze already trained onto you, face centimeters from yours as you let out a huffy sigh.

“That was your fault.” He released a bark of laughter, his head falling to your shoulder to hide his face.

“You’re right. But it was the best green tea I’ve ever had. You know, before it ended up on the floor.” That sent him into a new round of laughter too contagious for you not to join him.

He eventually came around, preferring the kick of bitterness after a long day. You carried the mugs over to the living area, curling into a corner of the sofa after you put them to rest on the side table to cool down. You settled in with some tests to grade as you waited for Kakashi, knowing it would be a while since he had to redress the wound on his bicep.

Soon enough, the space at your feet dipped, long limbs pulling and tangling yours until his torso was perfectly slotted between your legs. He tossed a roll of gauze at you, the stretchy material bouncing off your forehead causing him to snort as you rolled your eyes. “Wrap me up.”

You pinched and unraveled the fabric as you eyed the gash running down the back of his arm. It was by far one of the smallest injuries he’s come back home with, but you still had to actively try not to wince at it. “Only if you ask nicely.”

“Darling,” he intertwined your fingers and placed them on his cheek. “My sweet, precious Sensei.” You moved to pull your hand from his face, laughing at his overdramatics.

“I’m trying to ask nicely here,” he returned your hand to his cheek. “Will you please wrap up your poor, wounded boyfriend who traveled all this way to see you?”

“You’re ridiculous I hope you know that.”

“Is that a yes?” He turned his head to bite into the palm of your hand when you took too long to answer. You yanked it away and swatted at him before finishing unraveling the gauze in your grip. “Yes, I’ll do it. No need to bite me, you animal.”

He didn’t respond with a witty retort, instead you watched as his eyes softened, the towel he wore out of the shower draped over his neck to catch the stray drops falling from his wet hair. His torso was bare, various scars littering his skin. The muscles of his stomach tensing once you took his arm in your hands, the familiar strength relaxing under your tender fingers. He followed your movements in a trance, a comfortable silence washing over you as you worked on him slowly.

“You don’t have to be so gentle. The pain really isn’t that bad.” His tone was cautious, dancing around you carefully when you fixed him with a glare, saying everything you needed with that. He nodded at you, head falling to rest over the edge of the couch, his smooth neck displayed invitingly for you as he shut his eyes.

“All done,” you said after you adhered the final piece with some tape, his muscles flexing beneath it to test your handiwork.

“Looks good,” he raised his hand to toy with the bandage, a questioning look on his face. “Feels good.”

“It’s because it is good, now stop fiddling with it and drink your tea.” You grabbed his from the side table, along with the book he began earlier today and handed it to him. He accepted them gratefully, a knowing smile tugging at his lips as he recognized the mug you gave him.

“You’re so romantic,” he squeezed your thigh, your leg still bent over his lap from when he interrupted you the first time.

“Shut up,” you squint your eyes at him to appear stern, your facial expression immediately falling into a similar smile as his fondness was directed at you. “Just read, so I can grade these quizzes. I’m almost done.”

He leaned over to press a kiss into the top of your knee, a soft hum coming from his throat as he flipped the book open to start from the beginning. You made your way through a couple quizzes, some infuriating while others were excellent. The only distraction was the man resituating himself between your thighs, mug discarded on the coffee table as he continued to shimmy and slouch beside you.

“What the hell are you up to, Kakashi?” He threw you a wink, slinging your legs over his shoulders so his face was leveled with your shorts. The thin fabric making you feel exposed under his prying gaze.

“Don’t mind me,” he waved you off, slipping his fingers beneath the hem, massaging your hips into his strong hands. “Just don’t stop grading, unless I say so.”

The glint in his eyes was devilish, his hands sinful as he continued his movements. You tried to focus on the quiz in front of you, getting about halfway done before he bit you again, this time right into the meat of your inner thigh. You flinched, your body acting on its own as your hips bucked up. “Kakashi,” you said through gritted teeth, your marker sliding across the edge of the page, an angry red line bleeding into the paper.

“I didn’t tell you to stop,” he removed his hands from your shorts, and you exhaled in relief thinking that was the end of it, but he had no intentions of stopping there. His fingers curled into the elastic band as he lifted your hips effortlessly, the fabric sliding down your legs eagerly. He didn’t bother keeping your underwear on, your panties thrown over his shoulder along with your loungewear.

Your concentration was split, he was challenging you. His eyes flicking up to yours as he spread your lips with his thumbs, his breath fanning hotly over your cunt, too impossible now to hide how turned on you were. Yet, you refocused yourself. Lifting the marker shakily in your hand to continue to the next question, bottom lip held tightly between your lips. The pain flaring against it was almost enough to draw your thoughts away from the tongue now pressed flatly against you. A single wide stripe tracing entrance to clit.

You repressed a moan. The cap of the marker fitted between your teeth to replace your lip, indents digging into the plastic with every repetitive motion. He was picking you apart. A battle of wills was being fought, the onslaught of his tongue between your dripping folds nearly enough for you to surrender.

But you refused. You squeezed your eyes shut, drawing in a shaky breath and releasing it. The words on the paper somehow blended together as your mind swam with pleasure. The strain on your eyes worsened with every swipe, lick, and tug. His mouth moving from teasing strokes to desperate kisses, your concentration shattering beneath his weight. His lips wrapped around your clit, sucking it into his mouth with a groan. Until this he had only applied light stimulation, the attention distracting but not enough to break your carefully built wall of focus.

He worked you up too easily, the sensual climb beginning to blur your vision. Your eyes hopelessly losing sight of the work in front of you. “Fuck,” you whined into the back of your hand, noises tumbling from your lips in short hiccups.

The marker clattered to the floor, his fingers now working you open at a steady pace as your head fell to your chest. Your breathing was shallow, heartbeat kicking against your sternum rhythmically. You were losing and he was well aware, his lithe fingers picking up speed as he watched your legs tremble around his head.

“I didn’t take you for a quitter, Sensei,” the words were spoken directly against you. The deep vibrations hitting your swollen bud and you whined. You knew this game well. The taunting banter to get a rise out of you almost always worked. But you were far too stubborn tonight to fall for it, to give him the attention he craved from you.

He liked to watch you fall apart beneath him, he wanted for you to beg him to let you come. Only ever with the promise that you kept your eyes on him. But there was a shift in your mind, a switch that lit up every nerve ending that was desperate to have him begging for you.

So, your eyes remained open but not on him. They looked, unseeingly, at the work in your hands. There was a frustrated groan slicing from his lips, his free hand grabbing the papers from your lap and tossing them to the floor.

“Look at me.” If he wasn’t pumping into you with such vigor, you would’ve laughed. His cool demeanor hardly ever wavered, but you were cracking into him. Every moment that you denied him chipped away at his exterior.

“No.” You were close, your orgasm was in sight even after his fingers faltered. The pressure in your stomach was too tight to lose now, so you gripped the damp hair at the crown of his head. Your thighs closing around him and you ground down hard against his tongue. The hold he had on your thigh loosening as he moaned. The action took him by surprise, but you were too lost in your impending release to notice.

His fingers curled against the sensitive spongy tissue inside you, but he didn’t move them. He let you use him. He was pliant in your hands as you grinded into his fingers and pressed down onto his tongue. Your undoing shook through you with a final roll of your hips.

You chose this moment to finally look at him. His eyes were screwed shut, his own hips rutting against the thick sofa as he kept his tongue secured against you.

“Holy shit.” White noise filled your ears as you hit your peak, his breathy pants barely cutting through.

You let go of his hair, limbs falling limply at your sides as you struggled to catch your breath.

“I win,” you panted, the statement only half true considering the pen residing beside all of the papers he so gracefully threw to the ground.

He removed his fingers as he chuckled into the quivering muscles of your thigh. “I’d call that a draw.”

“No way,” you shook your head against the edge of the sofa, chasing after each breath in vain. “But we’re not done here.”

You pushed him so he sat upright, back settled comfortably into the cushions and you crawled onto his lap. Legs straddling his as you braced your hands against his solid chest. “Hm, what’s next then?” His smile was relaxed, his body slumped beneath your palms as you traced the outline of his defined abdomen.

“Well,” you leaned into his neck, your nose drawing a line to his ear. “Now it’s my turn to play,” you whispered, teeth capturing the soft tissue. A flurry of goosebumps rose on his arms accompanied by a whimper he barely caught in the back of his throat.

“You think you can be good for me?” He swallowed hard at the question, head thumping against the back of the couch. You moved back to watch him, his eyes opening a little as he scanned your body in his lap and nodded. A single head tilt that had him flexing and shifting underneath you, expectantly.

“Perfect.” You were fully aware of his cock digging into your ass, assured that your immobile weight was killing him with the way he bunched the fabric of your shirt in his hands.

“Let’s take this off,” you raised your arms over your head, your shirt rising with the motion. He waited a moment before lifting it over your head, your hands guiding his back to your waist. His fingers hugging you as you moved them to ghost over your nipples, already hard from the tension tying the two of you together.

You slid down his thighs, pulling his sweats past his hips, his erection bobbing forward. “Why don’t you ever wear underwear?” You giggle into your hand as the other wraps around his length, pumping once before swiping the bead of precum dripping from his tip with your thumb.

He stuttered out a laugh. “Makes moments like this easier.”

“So, you were expecting this?” Your grip tightened with each stroke, his head turning a pretty red.

“Not expecting,” he hissed as you pressed into the sensitive skin beneath his tip. “Hoping,” his head lolled to the side, cheek rubbing into the sofa. “Plotting,” he still had half a mind to smirk at you until you slid his cock between your folds. The moment tearing a surprised gasp from him.

“You’re thinking too much,” you rocked heavy on your knees, his head bumping your clit with each drag. “Let me take care of you.”

You held onto his broad shoulders, his mouth warm and humid against your forearm. You were meticulously sewing him together, stitching his submission thread by thread with every languid roll and circle of your hips. Only allowing for him to catch your entrance, twisting around the tip but never sinking down.

He nuzzled into your arm, a needy whine slipping past his tongue as his forehead shone with a sheen of sweat. “C’mon, baby,” his hands kneaded your thighs, veins traveling down his arms as he held back his control. Hips shaking with the effort of staying still, of not thrusting into you.

“You know what to say if you want more,” you pulled at his bottom lip with your thumb, smearing his spit down his chin. “You gotta ask nicely.”

His chin rested between your thumb and forefinger, his eyes bleary with desperate tears dotting his lash line. “Fuck, please,” his voice cracked with need, the lust clouding his senses crashed into you violently, overcome with how pretty he looked begging for you.

“Please, just- shit, I need you,” you cradled his head, thumb caressing his cheek, the skin red and burning against your own.

“I’ve got you.” You hover over his cock, his head breaching the first ring of muscle just past your entrance. Kakashi’s long and the stretch has your thighs shaking with effort, but the way his chest is gulping down harsh breaths, his silver hair sticking to his forehead has your stomach in knots.

The descent was slow. You stared as he held his breath for a second too long until your ass met his thighs, a moan riding out on his exhale.

“You’re being so good for me, Kashi.” You rested your forehead on his, the same motions from before guiding your hips as you rode him. His hands had long moved to your waist, blunt fingernails scratching your smooth skin as he forced himself still. “So so good.”

The noises spilling from him were pitched up, whines and whimpers cracked and broken as he clung to your torso. “Don’t stop, feels good,” his lips parted, his pleas buried into your cheek as you bounced in his lap.

You captured his mouth in yours, swallowing every shattered breath. Your facade was crumbling, he was melting in your arms and you were burning from the inside out.

His lips followed yours sloppily when you pulled back, the heat too much to bear once he wrapped his arms around your back. Holding you so close you could feel the erratic beating of his heart against you, the rise and fall of his chest disrupting your own breathing.

You moved to his neck instead, mouthing at the salty skin beneath his jaw. “Gonna cum,” he choked out, his head flung over the cushions again.

“Cum for me, baby,” you pushed against his hold to see his face. “Let me see you cum for me.” He gasped, a powerful shudder flooding him at your words.

All the threads you wove so tightly ripped apart at the seams. The little control he reserved was snatched from him as he thrusted up, sticky ropes of hot cum coating your walls in one go. The groan he released broke into a growl when you clenched around him. You hadn’t realized how close you were until it was too late. Until your body was heavy on his chest and your vision was fuzzy, your walls fluttering around him.

Kakashi’s breathing was labored. His hands rubbing soothing circles on the small of your back to ground himself. One of your hands had shifted to cup his neck, your fingers playing with the hair at his nape.

“You definitely win,” he muttered from above you. “That was so sexy, holy hell.”

“You’re telling me,” you laughed breathily as you pulled away from his slick body. “What was that?” You pushed the hairs away from his face, blowing air on his cheeks to cool him down.

“Something I needed, apparently.” He leaned forward to kiss you again, his hand finding the back of your head to deepen it. “I love you,” he whispered into your lips, his nose rubbing yours tenderly.

“I love you more,” you punctuated that with a hard peck.

“Not everything’s a competition,” he chuckled, his fingers massaging your scalp.

“It is if this is my prize.”

“In that case, I’d call this a draw,” he offered again, an impish grin flashed in your direction.

“Fine, I’ll accept it.” You wagged a finger at him. “But only this time.” He raised his arms in surrender before letting them rest on your back again, this time flinching away when you felt him graze the raw skin.

“Sorry,” his hands were on your thighs now. “I may have gotten a little carried away.”

You shook your head in awe, surprised you hadn’t felt the sting earlier. “We should probably shower,” you were too exhausted for it, but you were sweaty and his cum was pooling between your bodies from this position.

“But I already did,” he pouted, the expression comical on his sharp features. You shoved his chest and rose from his lap. He hissed out a puffy breath once he was exposed to the cold air, your hands pulling his arms to help him stand from the sofa.

“You were being such a good boy, don’t stop behaving now.” You pinched his cheeks in jest, squishing his face together. He stuck his tongue out at you and tickled your sides so you’d let him go.

“You’re making me more tea when we’re done,” he said as he followed you to the bathroom.

“Deal.”

“Anything but green,” he added, twisting the knob of the shower so it sat exactly in the middle.

“Nothing but green. Got it,” you shot him a thumbs up, and the glare he gave you was terrifying as you burst out laughing, clutching the side of the sink to keep from falling over.

“Come here,” he lifted you into the shower, placing you directly beneath the stream as he flipped it to cold. The comfortable warmth replaced by a frigid cold as it pounded into your back. You squeaked in surprise, jumping from his embrace to change your positions.

“That’s what you get,” his laugh echoed around the small space. The sound tickling you pleasantly as you stared at him. Annoyingly happy he was home again.

[kakashisdarling]

A little help - Iruka Umino

Iruka x reader (fluff)

“Iruka-sensei, Naruto! I’m so glad I bumped into you.”

Naruto smiles at me with his mouth full of ramen, Iruka offers me a short smile.

“Actually, I wanted to ask you a favor, Iruka-sensei.”

“Sure, what is it?”

“The thing is my little sister wants to take the Academy exam next year and I was wondering if you would consider being her mentor,” I ask shyly. “I would pay for the lessons, of course.”

“Oh, yes,” he sounds a little surprised. “I can make some space for her. Are you free on the evenings?” we both get slightly flustered at the implications of his question. “I meant, if your sister is free,” he clarifies, the skin beneath his scar tinted with red.

“She is, we both are.” I chuckle trying to sound cool and casual and not like I’m totally freaking out (because I am). Truth be told, I’ve always liked Iruka but I don’t think he has ever seen me as a potential love interest.

Iruka clears his throat. “We could meet at the training grounds tomorrow, is that good?”

“It is. You’re the best, Iruka-sensei.” He nods slowly.

“Can I get another bowl of ramen?” Naruto interrupts, looking at Iruka with puppy eyes.

“Just one more, Naruto.”

“Maaa, you are only this nice when Y/n is around.” Iruka gasps and places a hand on Naruto’s shoulder, squeezing it. My heart starts racing and my cheeks flush bright red.

“Naruto!”

“It was a joke! Iruka-sensei is always nice! He is, I swear!” the blonde boy cries as he tries to shake Iruka’s grasp off his shoulder.

“W-well then, I must head out. See you tomorrow, Iruka-sensei, goodbye Naruto.” I blurt before hurrying outside Ichiraku.

————-

“You are mean.” I whisper to Mizu’s ear. “You know the path perfectly well, you didn’t need me to come.”

“What if I got lost?” she replies swaying her lashes, trying to sound innocent. I roll my eyes at her and she sticks out her tongue playfully.

Our parents passed away a few years ago and sometimes I’m afraid I’m not good enough at this big-sister-mom thing. Maybe I shouldn’t even let her take the Academy test, after all the life of a shinobi is tough and dangerous. But the spark on her eyes when she talks about her dreams, about how she’ll be the first ninja in our family, is too much to handle for my fragile heart and I know I’ll support her in any way I can.

As we turn the corner to the training grounds, I spot Iruka holding a book near a tree. Our eyes meet and he waves cheerfully as he starts walking our way.

“Oh! He’s the man you’re always drawing! The one with a scar in his nose!” Mizu screams excited, instantly my face gets all flustered, even the tips of my ears are burning.

What a snitch!

Iruka’s eyes widen, his cheeks inked with a red hue. I wrap my arms around Mizu, covering her mouth with my hand.

“She’s kidding, she’s a very imaginative girl.” Pathetically, I try to excuse myself. “This is Iruka-sensei and you are going to behave well.”

Iruka smiles politely and I soften my grip on Mizu. She takes a step forward and reaches out for Iruka’s hand.

“My name is Mizu, are you a ninja?”

“It’s nice to meet you, Mizu, and yes I am a ninja.” Iruka says with a warm smile while shaking Mizu’s hand with such seriousness as if he was shaking the Hokage’s. I’ve always admired his patience with children, I hope Mizu’s not a handful. “Are you ready to start your training?”

In response, Mizu nods vigorously and starts rambling on how she���s gonna beat everyone and learn every jutsu there ever existed and… oh! how she’s gonna learn to summon a red giant scary dragon.

“I should get going, what time should I pick her up?” I intervene on Mizu’s speech, eager to run home and eat dango while crying out my embarrassment from earlier.

“You could stay… I mean most parents do.”

“I don’t want to intrude.” I just want to run away and eat my feelings. “And I have some stuff to take care of, maybe next time.”

“Okay then, I think two hours would be enough.”

Awkwardly, I nod before ducking to kiss Mizu’s forehead.

“Please be nice, Mizu.” I say as I take her hands and pull her to me. “Don’t play dirty or I’ll tell Hako you like his bunny teeth.” I whisper only for her to hear. My sister shakes her head frantically at my threatening eyes.

“Wait! Uhhm. So…” Iruka swallows hard. “Now that we both have been exposed by our kids… I was thinking that maybe we could grab dinner after Mizu’s lessons… if you want of course.”

Is this real life? Is he trying to pull a joke on me? No, no, he’s too kind for that.

Does he actually want to go out with me? I think I’m about to faint.

“I would really like that, Iruka-sensei.” I reply with a low tone as I pull myself together.

“Please drop the sensei, just Iruka.”

“I’ll come back later, Iruka.” I mumble shyly as a foolish smile forms on my lips.

Shit, I’m sure I’m blushing like a schoolgirl.

I turn around and my head starts running. What am I going to wear? Should I put some make-up on? Maybe I should take a bath and use my special lavender soap. Oh dear, the next two hours are going to be crazy.

Before I leave, Mizu runs to me and grabs my arm.

“You owe me, big time,” she winks naughtily before running back to her new sensei and my future date.

Hey guys! So this is day four, I’m sorry it’s a little a late. Hope you enjoyed and thanks for reading! <3

[dilly-oh]

Haircare no Jutsu

He’s wearing the red hair-tie today, Kakashi noted with satisfaction, walking down the hallway behind Iruka. An excellent choice. It perfectly accentuated the subtle reddish tones in his hair, highlighting them to perfection. His ponytail bounced with every step, the strands gleaming in the sun-rays cast through the nearby window.

Kakashi had been obsessed with Iruka’s hair for longer than he cared to admit. But hey, everyone had their quirks, especially Jounin. At least his didn’t involve green spandex and dazzling teeth. He was practically normal compared to the others.

He daydreamed about Iruka’s hair constantly, imagining running his fingers through the silken strands, pressing his face against them to smell their subtle scent. He imagined pulling Iruka's hair free from that cruel hair tie, brushing it till it gleamed, then separating it into three portions and twisting them into a thick braid. No, wait, a French one? He couldn’t decide. Still lost in internal debate, he walked closely behind Iruka, eyes glued to his hair.

Which is why he failed to see the loose tile jutting out of the floor in front of him.

Now, the Copy-nin of Konoha, feared by countless enemies and Missing-Nin alike, did not trip.

He merely attacked the loose tile with his toe, lurched forward for a better stance, wind-milled his arms about wildly to ward off any incoming attacks from enemies, and face-planted into the nearest object.

Which happened to be Iruka’s ponytail.

One time, while on an A-rank mission to Suna, Kakashi, half-dead from chakra exhaustion, had accidentally fallen into a patch of prickly cactuses.

This was worse than that.

Iruka’s ponytail was not soft and silky, fragrant and luxurious as he’d dared to dream. It was like a briar patch, bristly as hell, the strands broken and split and dry as a bone. Kakashi counted himself lucky his hitai-ate was covering one eye already so he only had to worry about losing the other one. This close, he could see the horrible split ends and flakes of dandruff with awful detail.

“Yeeeoooowch!!”

The cry echoed through the hallway, reverberating off the walls. Several heads poked out of doors to stare curiously, caught sight of Iruka’s face, and retreated.

“That’s my line,” Iruka grumbled, turning to confront him while rubbing the back of his head gingerly. “What the hell was that about?” Kakashi just gaped at him for a long moment, aghast, his hopes and dreams crumbling before him.

“Good God! Is my face bleeding?!” he blurted aloud.

“It’s about to be if you don’t start explaining yourself,” Iruka snapped back irritably, crossing his arms. “Seriously, what’s your problem?”

“It felt like I fell on a wad of steel wool!” Kakashi cried. “What the hell kind of hair product do you use?! Bar soap?!”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” Iruka huffed at him. Kakashi felt a glimmer of hope flicker to life. “I use my three-in-one shampoo, conditioner, and body-wash.” The glimmer of hope promptly whimpered, curled up, and died.

“Alright. That’s it. I’m confiscating this,” Kakashi said, twirling the red hair-band around his pinky finger. Iruka’s hair immediately flopped down around his face, sticking out in all directions like an unkempt bird’s nest and further destroying every one of Kakashi’s secret fantasies.

“Hey!” Iruka cried in outrage, shoving his hair aside. “Give that back!”

“You’ll get it back when you learn to treat your hair better.”

“Whatever, I have like three more,” Iruka snorted, rolling his eyes. He reached into his pockets, searching for a few moments, then frowned in confusion. “What the…?” He looked up to see Kakashi twiddling his fingers at him, each digit encircled by a colored band. “When- how did you- give those back!”

“Oh, I will,” Kakashi assured him, “but I have some…demands.”

“You’re holding my hair-ties ransom. You’re unbelievable.”

“Firstly, you-”

“I don’t negotiate with terrorists.”

“-let me wash your hair,” Kakashi finished.

“Ew. Why?” Iruka made a face. “That’s just an excuse to get me naked, you creep.” Kakashi huffed impatiently.

“You don’t have to get naked, just take your shirt off-”

“And then I’m already halfway there. Forget it.”

“-and then I’ll bend you over the bathroom sink and-”

“I SAID FORGET IT!” Iruka exploded, his face flushing a near-match of his hair-tie. “I have two jobs! I spend all day at the Academy babysitting children who are trying to kill each other, and then all night at the Mission Desk babysitting Jounin trying to kill each other. I don’t have time for stupid things like treating my hair with the ninja art of deep conditioning.”

“Then you’re not getting your hair-ties back,” Kakashi said with finality, squaring his shoulders.

“You know what? Keep them.” Iruka turned away in a huff. “I’ll just go buy more.” And with that, he stormed away. Kakashi narrowed his eyes.

“We’ll see about that,” he muttered, hands flashing quickly in a series of signs. Several clones puffed into existence and with a short word, dispersed on their newest mission.

---

“The HELL do you mean, out of stock?!” Iruka shouted at the store clerk in outrage. The man flinched back in fear, cowering behind the counter.

“I’m sorry, Mr. Ninja, sir, but someone came in not five minutes ago and bought the whole lot of hair-ties,” he babbled. “Every single one! We won’t be getting more in another shipment until-”

“Okay, fine, whatever,” Iruka cut him off, mind working furiously. “I’ll take… rubber bands. String. I don’t care, I’ll buy it.”

The clerk simply stared at him in mute horror, eyes wide. Iruka sighed.

“…They bought all of those, too, didn’t they?”

“…Yes, yes they did.”

Iruka paused, a sudden suspicion dawning on him.

“This person didn’t happen to have ridiculous silver hair and a mask, did they?”

The eyes went even wider, threatening to pop out. “Please don’t kill me,” the clerk whispered.

“Calm down, it’s not your fault. I’ll just…” Iruka chewed on his lip, mentally mapping out Konoha and his other prospects. “I’ll try elsewhere. Thank you.”

But it was the same story at every shop in Konoha.

So Iruka changed tactics. Not that it made any difference.

It didn’t matter who he begged one off of (Anko, Ino, even Shikamaru, who rolled his eyes in exasperation, as if he wasn’t embarrassed enough already), within five minutes it had either magically disappeared or snapped for no reason and his hair flopped back down over his eyes, prickly and annoying- not that Kakashi had a point or anything.

Even his own home wasn’t safe. Iruka didn’t know how, but someone had snuck in and removed everything that could even potentially serve as a hair tie, even rags and bandages. Iruka suspected Kakashi had won over Naruto with promises of all-you-can-eat ramen. He had half a mind to bring his complaint to the Hokage herself, before realizing she would probably find it hilarious and cackle like a loon for hours. So, no. Better to just deal with it himself.

---

Iruka was a hard man to break, Kakashi would give him that. After a whole week of this charade and no sign of the sensei’s resolve weakening, he’d earned his respect. But it couldn’t last forever. He had to give up at some point. Everyone had their limit. Kakashi smirked, raising a hand to study the red band still wrapped around his pinky. Yes, any minute now…

“I’m not going to break, so piss off!” Iruka shouted from inside his apartment. Kakashi, who’d been sitting on the roof, jumped. The man was more perceptive than he’d thought. His respect went up another notch.

“You sure about that?” he asked, popping his head in through the window. It was Iruka’s turn to jump. Then he swore, grabbed him by the vest, and hauled him inside the apartment, which was just as messy and unkempt as his hair. Because, you know, two jobs or whatever. Kakashi caught sight of a pair of pink boxers splayed on the couch before Iruka spun him around to glare point-blank in his face.  

“What the hell do you even care if my hair isn’t perfect? Life is not a fucking shampoo commercial,” he demanded. Kakashi shrugged.

“I had expectations. Dreams. How dare you break my fragile, innocent heart.” He swooned and clutched his chest dramatically.

“I’m gonna break something else of yours in a minute.” Iruka scowled at him, stewing in fury. “It’s none of your business, anyway. My hair, my choice. Deal with it.”

“I refuse.” Kakashi glared right back, refusing to stand down. “It’s a matter of honor.”

“Oh, please! Like yours is any better!” Iruka burst out, stepping forward to plunge his hands into Kakashi’s thick mane. “You’re always out on a mission, don’t tell me you have the time to- merciful God it’s like I’m petting one of those fluffy Inazuka dogs.” Iruka stared at him in shock. “How the hell do you get it so soft and silky? Haircare no Jutsu?”

“Don’t be silly,” Kakashi scoffed. Iruka just gave him a flat stare. “…Alright, yes, I infuse my shampoo with a little chakra for extra volume. Sue me.”

“I’m considering it, after all the harassment,” Iruka muttered darkly, his hands still in Kakashi’s hair. Kakashi had to fight back a shudder of pleasure as his fingertips scraped across a particularly sensitive area. Finally Iruka removed his hands (Kakashi stifling a disappointed whimper) and frowned in consternation. “…I just have to let you wash my hair once?”

“Sure,” Kakashi answered with a nod. “…And then you are legally obligated to follow a strict hair-care routine dictated by me-”

“ONCE.” Iruka held up a finger, expression firm. “That’s it. That’s the deal. Then you leave me alone.”

Kakashi weighed his options. He could keep running around Konoha, using up his chakra on clones and buying up every bit of material that could serve as a hair-tie, following Iruka around till he was old and even grayer and broke.  

…Or he could just wash his hair right now and be done with it.

“Alright, fine,” he agreed. “Let me wash your hair and we’re good.” Rather than look triumphant like he expected, Iruka hesitated, biting his lip uneasily and dropping his gaze to the floor.

“…Promise you won’t take advantage of me,” he said, voice quiet and serious for once.

Kakashi solemnly placed a hand over his heart. “I promise.”

And then Iruka took his shirt off and Kakashi had never regretted making a promise more in his LIFE. He truly was that tan all over, with white scars scattered here and there like constellations, accentuating the toned muscles and hard flesh.

“Oh, wait,” Iruka said, “what am I thinking? You probably need to go to your place and get-” Kakashi wordlessly held up his shampoo and conditioner bottles. Iruka blinked. “…Of fucking course.”

---

Iruka’s bathroom was just as untidy as the rest of the apartment, half-empty three-in-one shampoo bottles and dirty clothes strewn everywhere. For some reason, the fact that he was a complete slob did nothing to detract from Kakashi’s burgeoning attraction to the man.

“If you please,” Kakashi said politely, rolling up his sleeves and nodding towards the sink.

“I am not tipping,” Iruka sniffed haughtily as he stepped forward. His eyes lingered on Kakashi’s bared hands and arms for a moment before jerking away. He leaned over the sink, which, thankfully, seemed large enough to accommodate an impromptu hair-washing. Kakashi turned the tap on, careful to adjust the water temperature to a pleasant degree, then eased Iruka forward into the spray with a gentle hand. The other man grumbled, but kept still as Kakashi thoroughly wetted his hair, careful to get every bit. When he was satisfied, he pulled out his shampoo and poured a dollop into one hand, paused, then poured some more. Might as well make it count.

“Hurry up, I’m getting water up my nose,” Iruka muttered, head still under the spray. “And water all over the rest of me, too.”

“Yeah, sorry.” Kakashi forced himself to concentrate on washing Iruka’s hair and not his glistening, muscled back. He sank his fingers deep into the dry, bristly hair and scrubbed gently, lathering up the soap, making sure to pay special attention to the scalp and roots.

The shampoo was his own special recipe, imbued with his own personal chakra for extra strength and luster. He rinsed it out after several minutes, then applied the conditioner. After one more rinse, he was done, and he stepped back, allowing Iruka to straighten. Kakashi turned away to find a towel, snatched the cleanest-looking one from a shelf, and turned back.

I’ve made a horrible mistake, Kakashi realized immediately. I can’t let others see him like this. He’s too beautiful.

Iruka on a bad day was a knockout. Iruka, gloriously shirtless and gleaming, with his wet hair pooling like ink around his face and shoulders, was a vision fit for the Gods. Kakashi stood frozen, tongue stuck to the roof of his mouth.

Unaware of the other man’s dilemma, Iruka raked a hand through his hair, pushing the wet strands off his face. Kakashi gulped, his throat suddenly dry and tight. A long, tense pause drew out between the two of them like a taut bow-string.

“What the hell are you waiting for?”

“…Huh?” Kakashi stared at him, blinking.

“Make a move already, you idiot.” Iruka stood there in his shirtless glory, arms crossed over his tanned chest, wet, glistening hair framing his face. “You’ve already got me half-naked and everything.”

Kakashi sputtered incoherently for a few seconds, shaking his head.

“I...I can't, I promised-” he choked out.

“Oh my God come here.” Iruka grabbed Kakashi by the front of his shirt and reeled him in like a prize catch. Kakashi did his part, gaping at him like a fish, wide-eyed in shock. Iruka scoffed, then leaned in close enough for their lips to brush teasingly. “I never promised not to take advantage of you, dumbass.”

Kakashi was not about to argue.

---

Years later, he still kept the red band around his pinky, right next to the wedding ring that winked in the sunlight.

-End-

Months ago, I was chosen to be a pinch-hitter for the Kakairuzine (I would step in if someone had to leave), so I completed two fics in case they were needed. Since they aren’t, I might as well upload them here. This is the second and final fic. Enjoy!

[cyhyr]

KkIr Valentine's Week: Mutual Pining

Fandom: Naruto

Rating: PG

Pairing: Kakashi & Iruka

WC: ~1680

Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply

Additional Tags: Omegaverse, OC kkir baby, alpha!Kakashi, omega!Iruka, first words, depression, PPD, co-parenting, pining

A/N: This takes place somewhat nebulously before [the first snow], when Hikari is about 9 months. Is that young for a baby's first word? Maybe. My daughter had a vocabulary of about 5-6 words by 10 months, so I assume that a genius child of Kakashi's could beat that lol

Read the Lights series on AO3

Read on AO3

~

“Yo, Iruka,” Kakashi smiles as the door opens. Iruka hitches Hikari up on his waist and steps back to let him inside, ignoring Hikari’s cooing babbles and reaching arms. He can’t help but open his arms for his pup once his shoes and flak are off and neatly put aside in the genkan.

“It’s good to see you,” Iruka says, handing over their daughter so she and Kakashi can scent each other in greeting. “This mission was long, huh?”

“Too long,” Kakashi agrees, nuzzling her cheek and breathing her in. Iruka must have recently bathed her; the faintest trace of soap commingles with her natural scent.

“Would you… would you like to stay for dinner? I’ll admit, I don’t have Hikari packed for her overnight. I didn’t know if you were going to be back in time.”

“I’d love to,” Kakashi says, and goes to set Hikari down in her playpen. She crawls over to her little collection of board books and picks one up and starts to “read”; he knows she’s just looking at the pictures, but he wouldn’t be surprised if she was actually picking up on some of the words. He leaves her to entertain herself and joins Iruka in the kitchen. “What’re we having?”

“I… um, I have some soup I can warm up, but I’m sure after your mission you’ll want something more substantial—”

“Soup sounds perfect. Is there anything I can do to help?”

“No, no, you’re my guest; go be with Hikari for now and I’ll let you know when dinner’s ready.”

“Iruka,” Kakashi frowns, “I’m hardly a guest. I—”

“You don’t live here, therefore, guest.”

“Naruto technically doesn’t live here either,” Kakashi says, hoping to make a point.

“Well, no, but… ah, fine. Hikari will need a bottle, if you could?” Iruka points to a cabinet next to the fridge which Kakashi knows holds bottles and dry formula. He mixes a bottle together for their pup and puts it in the warmer to come to temperature. They’d decided on powder formula for its cost effectiveness, even though Kakashi offered both to pay for liquid formula or to support Iruka in chestfeeding. Neither option had settled well with the mother of his pup, so the same dry formula sits in his own cabinet at home.

Iruka fiddles with the soup pot and turns on the stove, and Kakashi leans against the counter and wonders if he could have this…

Because he didn’t offer to help Iruka through his heat just to be nice; he truly thought then that if he could only have a week then he could live with that one memory. But now they’re co-parenting, and he sees Iruka on average three times per week, and what had started as a tiny crush has evolved into this deep, steady affection. And he doesn’t want any less. Rather, he wants more. He’s been looking for mating charms recently, and he’s hoping to get Iruka’s opinion on the topic soon.

The warmer clicks off, and Kakashi takes the bottle out and tests the temperature before heading over to the playpen and picking Hikari up. She’s old enough now to hold the bottle on her own, to feed herself, but Kakashi likes cradling her and feeding her; and as long as she also doesn’t mind, it’s a simple arrangement. Today she grabs for her bottle and relaxes back into the crook of his arm to eat.

He sits down at the table with her and they watch Iruka work carefully at the stove.

~

After dinner, Iruka goes into Hikari’s room to pack her up for the night. Kakashi doesn’t seem like he wants a night off from parenting after only just coming off a mission rotation, and Iruka can be honest with himself just a little bit to admit that he’s looking forward to getting to sleep in tomorrow. Around the corner of the door and down the hall he can hear Hikari babbling away and Kakashi talking back to her as though he knows exactly what she’s saying. For all Iruka knows, he probably does.

He picks up her stuffed pug from her crib and tucks it away in her diaper bag. It has no likeness whatsoever to Kakashi’s ninken, but Iruka smiles whenever he sees her with it anyway. Someday, she’ll inherit the Hatake summoning contract and maybe she’ll also get to work with Pakkun.

“Iruka?!”

He ducks his head around the doorframe and sees Kakashi rushing toward him, Hikari in his arms. His mask is pooled around his neck, and it shouldn’t affect him so, but Iruka fights the flush threatening his cheeks. “What is it?”

Kakashi grins wide and bounces their pup a little, and says, “C’mon, little one, can you do it for Ka-chan?”

Hikari giggles and reaches for him, making grabby hands. Iruka holds his arms out for her, and then she babbles—

Speaks.

“Puppy!!”

Iruka’s heart pauses, and he bites his lip because she’s barely nine months old and her first word is puppy and he feels like he’s going to explode with the amount of emotion he feels. He quickly steps back into her bedroom and grabs the diaper bag, picking the stuffed animal out.

He holds it out to her and she laughs and says it again. “Puppy!!” Then she makes her grabby hands again, and Iruka gives it to her. She brings it to her face and bites its ear. Maybe it’s a good thing Pakkun keeps his distance.

“Is that her first word?” Kakashi asks.

Iruka nods dumbly, still in a bit of a shock. Kakashi swings her around gently and she screams in laughter.

“Our sweet girl! Gods, the pack is going to love this, her first word is puppy, Iruka!!”

And his happiness is so infectious that Iruka can’t help but smile along while Kakashi makes a scene about Hikari learning a word.

He doesn’t have the heart to tell Kakashi that Hikari has been signing phrases for just over a week now, so while this is her first spoken word, it’s far from her first foray into communication. He can let Kakashi have this.

Her first word had been food, which is suitably fitting for a nine-month-old. Iruka’s been signing with her for months—food, dirty, play, sleep, Ka-chan, Tou-chan—and she’s been communicating all day until Kakashi actually showed up, which is when she went suspiciously quiet.

Though if she had been waiting for the chance to show off, getting her father’s attention like this certainly worked.

“We should celebrate.”

Iruka huffs. “Kakashi, it’s just a word. Besides, it’s late. If you’re not going to take her, she really should be put to bed.”

He almost takes it all back, seeing Kakashi’s face fall. “Ah, you’re right. Besides, there will be time tomorrow.”

He reaches for the diaper bag, and Iruka hands it to him. He tucks Hikari against his shoulder and walks back to the living room, Iruka following behind after closing her bedroom door.

He really needs to figure out what he’s going to do about Naruto before he finds his way home again. He can’t just assume that Naruto will share a room with Hikari, afterall. He’ll need to get a new apartment, or maybe even a house; one with three bedrooms. Maybe he can move Hikari into his own room for a while, she doesn’t take up that much space…

“Iruka?”

“Sorry, what’s up?”

“I…” Kakashi stands in the genkan, looking lost, like he wants to say something vital—

Iruka doesn’t have the energy for an important conversation. He interrupts before Kakashi can continue his thought. “How long did you want to keep her?”

“Oh, I. Until you want her back, or I get another mission?”

I want her back now though…

Kakashi must see the thought on his face, because he continues, “How about we see how everyone’s feeling tomorrow? I’m sure you’d appreciate a break—you work so hard, taking care of her.” Kakashi frowns and reaches for his flak vest with one hand. “I really can’t thank you enough, for being with her as much as you are.”

“It’s not like I have anything better to do,” Iruka chuckles self-deprecatingly. “The Council won’t let me return to the Academy until Hikari’s old enough to defend herself, so… I’m kinda stuck as a stay-at-home.”

“I can talk to Tsunade, if you want.”

“It’s fine, really. Who wouldn’t want to stay home and watch a screaming infant all day?”

“You are an amazing teacher, Iruka. It’s to the detriment of the village that you’re not working. And, besides, I know you miss it, you don’t have to put on a front for me.” He hands Hikari back to Iruka long enough to slip into his flak and zip it up. He fixes his mask over his face, and Iruka can finally breathe normally around him again.

Gods, it’s been a year and a half since they shared his heat; he needs to get over himself. Kakashi doesn’t want him like that.

He scents Hikari and kisses her goodnight, and then says, “Be good. Love you, baby.”

Hikari smiles and scents him back clumsily, and also presses her open mouth to his cheek in a cute, slobbery kiss. Then he hands her back to Kakashi and ushers them out the door. Not that he’s in a rush to see them go, but the faster they leave the faster she’ll be able to get to sleep once they’re back at Kakashi’s house.

“I’ll talk to you tomorrow,” Kakashi says.

Iruka smiles the best he can. “Yeah, tomorrow. See you.”

Hikari waves over Kakashi’s shoulder, and Iruka waves back as they close the door behind them.

Puppy

Iruka sniffs back the tears he doesn’t want to spill. Of course her first spoken word would be something associated with Kakashi. She adores him, and rightly so. They’re so good together.

He turns around and heads to bed. He’s going to make the most of this child-free night and sleep until he wakes up on his own for once.

[uminosclassroom]

┼

Send me ┼ for my muse’s reaction to walking in on your muse 

7. Committing suicide

It’s been a while since Iruka has seen Kakashi but, accordingto the mission roster, Kakashi has been in the village for weeks. Something about his name there tugs on Iruka’s chest, making it harder to breathe, and it doesn’t let up. From a professionalperspective, he knows he should leave it alone. He got the information from thevillage information banks. Kakashi could be on a secret mission, the kindthey don’t mark. 

Ifthat’s the case then, assuming he’s being watched, Iruka risks leadingpotential enemies to the truth that Kakashi is gone. The two of them are long time friends though, he reasons. It is completely plausible that he justdrops by after work…except that plan falls apart if the surveillance has beengoing on for more than a month. When he inevitably goes to visit Kakashi’splace later that evening, Iruka triple checks to make sure he isn’t beingfollowed. It makes him feel a little less guilty. 

Thelights are off in front of Kakashi’s apartment, and no one answers when Irukaknocks on the door. He glances around for any nosy neighbors, but this isprimarily a shinobi apartment complex. Everyone keeps to themselves, and mostof them are only home long enough to catch a few hours of shut eye. He craneshis head around to peek at the window. 

Kakashiseems to hate using doors, but maybe the window is open? It is, and any trapsthat were there seem to be disabled. Iruka is about to go through when hecatches sight of a tiny little seal, barely the size of a peanut, hidden behindsome of the hardware. Squinting to get a better look at the markings, Irukasighs in irritation. Good thing he checked twice, full body electrocution wouldhave hurt. 

DamnKakashi for making Iruka spend a few extra minutes trying to break into hishome. 

Theentire place is dark and silent. The bed is made and what few belongingsKakashi has all seem to be in their place, but the jonin’s well-worn missionpack is sitting in its place next to the bed. So he is in the village, just notat home right now. Iruka feels silly about this whole thing, Kakashi’s probablyjust been busy. They have gone months without seeing each other before. He isletting his paranoia get the best of him.

 Afaint dripping noise coming from down the hall grabs Iruka’s attention. Kakashiprobably just left the faucet on. He’s already broken in, might as well savehis friend a few ryo on the water bill before he goes home. The kitchen sink isoff, must be the bathroom then.

The stench of blood washes over him even beforeIruka recognizes the outlines in the dark. He gropes along the wall in thedark, flicking on the light switch on. Kakashi is limp in the tub, eyes open butglazed over. Two deep cuts run down the inside of his arms, and the kunai he used to do it is perched in the soap dish. The dripping noise isKakashi’s blood running down one of his hands and puddling on the floor.

Irukacrawls into the bathtub, yanking a ratty blue towel off the shower bar andtaking it with him. He leans in close, right in Kakashi’s face,practically nose to nose as he pulls the jonin’s arms together and wraps thetowel around them. It’s hard to keep his balance, knees threatening to slip onblood-slicked porcelain. Iruka needs a way to put pressure on both the woundsat the same time. How much blood has Kakashi lost? How long has he been here?

Hisfirst reaction is anger, and he clings to it like a life raft in the violentstorm of the rest of his feelings. If Iruka lets go, then Iruka might stopworking. If Iruka lets go, Kakashi might too.

“Whatthe hell were you thinking, Kakashi!?”

[dilly-oh]

Birthday Surprise

    After three days, fifty-six minutes and sixteen seconds away on a mission, Kakashi hauled ass the entire way back to Konoha in order to arrive home for his birthday and found Iruka splayed out on the kitchen floor, covered from head to toe in cake batter and frosting.

    “Oh my God,” he said, dropping his pack at his feet. “It’s finally happening. My Icha-Icha dreams are coming true. My birthday wish-”

    “I did NOT consent to this!” Iruka shouted furiously, attempting to stand but slipping back down on another glob of frosting. He glared up at Kakashi, daring him to laugh.

    “...Oh.” Kakashi tried to keep his disappointment from being too obvious. “ So...what happened?”

    “Naruto happened, what do you think?” Iruka tried to wipe some of the mess off his face but only managed to smear it around even more. “He came in saying he was broke and couldn’t afford to buy you a birthday present, so he was going to tie me up instead. Then he went for me, only I was making your cake, so...” He gestured grandly to his thoroughly coated self and surrounding area. Kakashi made a mental note to thank Naruto later with unlimited ramen. 

    ...On second thought, he might have to limit it to ten bowls. He didn’t want to see how deep the boy’s stomach went. 

    “Don’t worry, I’ll lick you clean-” he began eagerly. 

    “That’s fucking disgusting. NO.” Iruka gave him a withering glare. “Touch me and I’ll revoke your sex priveleges for a month.” 

    That stopped Kakashi in his tracks. 

    “This is so much less sexy than people make out to be. I need a shower.”

    Kakashi perked up.

    “What a coincidence, me too-”

    “We are showering, separately,” Iruka cut him off sternly. “You know we both barely fit in there anyways.” Kakashi winced at the memory - they’d knocked over all the shampoo bottles, slipped on a bar of soap, and tore the curtain down with them. Iruka had refused to try again after that disaster. 

    “Ugh, I have cake batter in my underwear,” Iruka groaned in disgust, slowly climbing to his feet. “How did that even get in there?”

    Kakashi could think of a few ways. Wisely, he kept them to himself. 

    He meekly followed after Iruka as the other man squished his way over to the bathroom, making a face with each step. Leaving a trail in his wake, he paused to allow Kakashi to open the door for him, stepping inside while Kakashi made to turn away. 

    “Where do you think you’re going?” 

    Kakashi froze, looking back at him over his shoulder.

    “Giving you...privacy?” he said uncertainly. “To...undress?” 

    “Hell no.” Iruka scoffed. “You’re doing it for me.”

    “...WHAT.”

    “Look at my hands, Kakashi.” Iruka held them up. His hands were indeed the most thickly coated of his whole body, probably because he’d used them to break his fall. “I’m not touching my clothes. I put on my best outfit for you and I don’t want them getting any dirtier than they already are. Please.”

    Dammit. He’d said the magic word. Kakashi was helpless to obey.  

    Then again, the other magic words were “take” and “me”, and they worked just as well. 

    With a sigh, Kakashi resigned himself to the terrible fate of being hopelessly turned on as he undressed a very messy, very hot, very angry Iruka with no release in sight. 

    This was worse than the damn mission.

    Stepping in close, Kakashi carefully began picking at the buttons on the front of Iruka’s shirt. He hadn’t been lying - he’d put on one of Kakashi’s favorite outfits, a dark blue button-up and tight, form-fitting trousers that perfectly accentuated his sculpted legs and ass. Kakashi would have given anything to be in a similar situation, sans the cake mess and Iruka’s boiling temper. 

    Actually, just sans the temper. 

    The buttons were small and slippery with batter, making them hard to grip. Kakashi swore and leaned closer, catching a subtle whiff of his favorite cologne nearly buried beneath the smell of sugar and chocolate. He felt a pang of guilt - Iruka really had pulled out all the stops just to make his birthday special, and here he was, being selfish and petulant just because he was horny. 

    The guilt immediately disappeared once he removed Iruka’s shirt, revealing his chiseled pecs and abdomen, and realized that next were the pants. 

    Gritting his teeth, Kakashi slowly undid the other man’s belt, the buckle clinking softly as he pulled it out through the loops. The oppressive silence wasn’t helping - he could hear the snap of the pants button and the burr of the zipper being undone in obscene detail. His breath coming faster, he forced himself to keep his eyes averted as he peeled the pants down Iruka’s toned thighs, revealing inch after tantalizing inch of tan flesh. 

    Keep your cool, Kakashi told himself as he mechanically pulled the trousers free, followed by his socks. He’s pissed as hell. Don’t make it worse. Keep it together.

    All that was left was the worst part. 

    The underwear. 

    Iruka had donned his favorite pair of tight black shorts, the ones that left nothing to the imagination. It took all of Kakashi’s self control not to lean forward and peel them off with his teeth. 

    Instead, he closed his eyes, reached forward, and yanked them down as quick as he could. Iruka daintily lifted a leg and they whisked free, joining the rest of the dirty clothes in the pile. 

    Alright, there. Done. He could do this. 

    “You forgot something.”

    Kakashi opened his eyes and stared up at him blankly. Iruka stood there, gloriously naked, streaked with cake batter and swipes of frosting like some kind of edible art piece. What could he possibly have forgotten? There was nothing else to remove. 

    “My hair-tie.”

    He could NOT do this. 

    “Come on, Kakashi, this stuff is drying on me and it’s starting to itch.”

    Kakashi stood up on creaking knees, stiffly reached forward and pulled Iruka’s hair-tie off, freeing his hair. It cascaded down like water, hanging about his shoulders in lush waves. Iruka shook it out of his face with a sensual flick of his head. Kakashi gulped hard, his throat aching. 

    “You good?” he asked, voice slightly raspy. Iruka nodded dismissively.

    “Yeah, I can take it from here.” He stepped into the shower and started to pull the curtain closed. “Thanks, Kakashi.” 

    Kakashi turned to go. 

    “Oh, and, by the way, Happy Birthday.” 

    Iruka grabbed him by the shirt and hauled him in.

(Written for @kakairu-fest KakaIru Week 2020, Day Eight Prompt: Birthday/Surprises)