Naruto Various x Reader/Ship [One Shot/Lemon]

Eight Hours & Sixty Days (Jiraiya x f!reader) 🍋

Eight hours and sixty days. Eight hours and sixty days since Jaraiya the Gallant last kissed you, last touched you, last talked to you; but to you - as you watched the sixtieth sun disappear behind the horizon, as the sky faded from navy to black, as the snow turned blue from the absence of the warm glow of the brightest star - it may as well have been a lifetime. You sighed, releasing the heavy ball and chain that tugged at your heart, as you stood from the chair on your balcony and entered into your little apartment.

"I love you, kid." His last words were stuck inside the IMAX of your mind, his burly body tightly wrapped around yours forever haunted your senses, his sad smile before he turned away looped in your brain like a videotape. You washed your mug, leaving it out to dry, as you slinked away to your bathroom to get ready to go to bed.

The winter nights were the worst without him. Long missions in summer provided you ample hours of light, allowing you to distract yourself from him with late night drinks with friends, or sunset walks around the village, or beach days that exhausted you to the bone, causing you to instantly fall asleep the moment your head hit the pillow; they made ninety days feel like thirty. Winter days were frigid and empty; your friends were out of town, the air froze you to your core, making going outside an impossible feat, and the days were short, the sun dropping beyond the horizon earlier and earlier, leaving you to deal with the lonely nights all on your own.

You splashed the cold water over your face, the sensation electrifying your cells and igniting your reflexes; it was a good way of reminding yourself that you were still able to feel anything at all. You stripped your clothes and toppled lazily into your bed, glancing at the clock. 6:12pm. You sighed, rolling onto your side and staring longingly at your nightstand drawer. Ever since meeting Jiraiya, the man had cast a terrible spell upon you: a spell that made every orgasm you had that wasn't created by him lifeless and unappealing. Yet on nights like these, when flashes of him deluge over you like a solar eclipse does the sun: his jasmine-scented shampoo, his childlike giggle, his booming voice, even the most pitiful of orgasms can help soothe your raging hurricane of Jiraiya-desire.

You huffed in annoyance and pulled your drawer open, grabbing hold of your vibrator with vigor and laying it on the nightstand, sucking on your two fingers before maneuvering them inside your entrance. You had found a nice routine during your times spent away from your boyfriend, one that took months of practice and dedication, but you were finally able to find something that was able to make you feel ¼ as good as what he could do to you: and you could do it all on your own! Progress was slow, but you were hopeful with more studying you could get up to ⅓ of the way Jiraiya felt in the next couple of... years.

You allowed thoughts of him to float around in the galaxy of your mind as you slowly circled around yourself, teasing yourself the way he did, prodding at your core nimbly with one hand while you fondled your chest with the other. You didn't allow yourself to fully rub your clit, not yet; Jiraiya would be so proud of you, sitting here thinking about him while your nose scrunched up, his favorite little line forming on your forehead.

"Jiraiya..." You allowed the moan to escape as you flicked your finger around your clit, teasingly, gently stroking circles around your nub as you hissed in a breath through your gritted teeth. Your fantasies were overwhelming tonight, the smell of his sage and cardamom cologne lifting your body away to a sensual fall flowerfield, the sweet and spicy aromas melding perfectly together. You could vividly hear his little giggle surrounding you like a magical Jiraiya-tornado, sucking you deeper into your fantasyland as the bed slowly dipped and you imagined him laying down next to you.

Hot breath tickled the skin of your shoulder as you felt a familiar, large hand grip your hip and pull you against his broad chest, soft hair tickling your face, as ecstasy coursed its way through your body and into your heart. You opened your eyes and glanced up through your hair, immediately connecting onto his dark liquid pools that sunk into your soul, drowning you. Your breath hitched in the back of your throat as he smirked down at you and moved his hand to grip onto your now-stilled wrist, your pulse pounding and breathing heavy.