Jiraiya x Reader Stories(Smut)

Love Is Blind

Cheesy titles sheesh.
Reader request! Jiraiya is the fifth Hokage after Minato's death and he's struggling with depression. One day he goes out to think and finds you, dear reader. A blind woman who doesn't know who he is. He relishes in the opportunity to be treated as just a normal person again and not Hokage. Then his lies catch up to him and it harms you.

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Another day... another day just.... going on. Jiraiya leans on his elbow with his fist propping his head up. He stares blankly at the paper in front of him. The pen he's holding has been hovering above the paper in the same place for like an hour now. All the words on it have blurred together. He sighs and drops the pen.

Jiraiya slumps in his chair. He's not sure what he wants to do. Sleep? He hasn't slept in like a week. Eat? He's not all that hungry. Everything tastes like paper anyways. Go home? The elders will have a fit if he leaves early again. He swivels around in his chair to look out the window.

It is a nice day out. The sun is shining. The sky is clear. It's gonna be a hot one. His eyes look up to the structure he now dreads. The Hokage Monument. The stone faces that he once looked up to he now despised it. Seeing his face carved up there was bad enough. Seeing it carved after his recently deceased student just tasted vile. His head began to hurt just looking at it. Like someone just popped a straw into his brain through the top of his head like a juice box. Maybe a walk will reset his head. Anything is less depressing than sitting around in the estate all day.

Jiraiya stood up slowly. Casting a glance to the side, he frowns. The coat hanger by the desk is holding his new robe, which he refuses to wear. Even seeing the words "The Fifth" makes him nauseous. Seeing it embroidered on a robe meant for him was worse. The council keeps insisting he wears it. He hasn't even touched it since he started here. Nor does he wear the bright red and green haori hakama set he usually adorned. Black is for mourning... who knows if he'll ever stop grieving. He can't ever see himself smiling and meaning it ever again. It was hard enough to pretend to be okay already.

It felt disrespectful to Minato to wear anything resembling Konoha colours. It's only been half a year since he's died. Along with his wife too... Their baby is still in a secure location. Poor kid, it's not his fault. Half the village is still actively hunting the baby down with the intent of murder. Jiraiya had to issue an order of arrest if anyone even mentioned Naruto with a bad word.

He still can't even bear to look at Naruto. It's too painful. How can he look that baby in the eyes and tell wee lad he's the reason his parents are dead? Nor is Jiraiya in the emotional state to care for a child. It's all his fault that baby is an orphan. Not only an orphan, but the new vessel to a demon. It wasn't fair!

As Jiraiya sees it, if he took the position first, then it would have been him. He would have been home and he could have died in Minato's place. He would have been in charge of dealing with the nine tailed fox. He could have dealt with it even if it killed him. What did he have to live for anyways? Minato had a family. The only family Jiraiya has doesn't speak to him anymore or dead. He's just.... alone.

Ghostly. That's a good word for it.

Just drifting along from one day to the next. Feeling nothing. Nothing made him happy anymore. Everything was a chore. Writing felt like a waste of time. Just existing sometimes was too hard. He can't even say that getting out of bed is difficult, because he hasn't slept. He lays awake at night with his thoughts consuming him. The only reason Jiraiya is in his position is because he feels like he must make up for his mistakes. It was an alternative to spiralling further into doing something harmful to himself. At least he's doing something useful with his time for once. He's wasted his life. This feels like a just sentencing to atone for his life of wrong choices. He hates this job. He hates his life. He deserves no less than to rot away at this desk alone. Then when he dies after living an ironically long life, everyone who knew him will be glad he's dead.