Jiraiya x Reader Stories(Smut)

Sanctuary

Reader is a sex worker not by choice. Mentions of sexual abuse and good old fashioned physical abuse. Not by him. He's doing his best to help her.

I contracted dumb bitch disease. The gay chapter is 80 not 60. I'm so sorry. I can post it next week if you guys wanna see this dumbass fall in love with a man and struggle so hard? Then I can postpone that chapter and post it in 80s place?

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Jiraiya is back!

With a shout of glee, you scamper to get ready. Running to your room to get your best dress. You don't have many. Not a lot of clients get you things. He did. Jiraiya was a very sweet regular of yours. He got you the nicest things you own. An indigo kimono with simple white flowers. A perfume that smells amazing. A hair clip that had delicate decorations on it. You wear all these things whenever he comes to visit you. It's not very often. Once a month if he can. It's the best night of that month.

Once dressed and ready, you practically skip down the hall. Your feet feeling light and skilled as they gracefully dodged the obstacles in the way. A few of your coworkers look at you with envy. Jiraiya is a high paying client with a certain reputation. The fact that you are his favourite has made others jealous. Tough! They can deal. Most of them get clients like him. He just happened to be the most famous.

You knock on the door where you know he is waiting. The giddy excitement in your body only jolts up more at hearing his voice.

"Come in!"

Your heart quickens in excitement. You open the door and enter. Seeing him again had done more than just quicken your heart and excite your body. It numbed all the pain in your life. All the things that worried or hurt you was now dulled.

Your favourite person is standing in the room. His arms out to catch you in a hug. The excitement that filled you was tenfold to the joy you felt before. Your body is practically vibrating with happiness. You collided into him and held on tightly. Your cheek rested against his warm chest. Your hands slowly run down his arms. They're bare. He trusts you. All that armour he wears is abandoned to the side of the room with the rest of his belongings. A content sigh leaves you when he runs his hands up and down your back.

Warm fuzzy feelings trickle in the wake of his hands. If only everyone was like this. With hands who comfort and never harm. You shut your eyes. This moment was worth relishing in. His nice warm body against yours. The beat of his heart thumping steadily in your ear. It was good enough to fall asleep to. Or just listen to. For hours.

His hand traveled up your back again and went over your shoulder. He gently put his fingers under your chin and pushed it up. You are forced to meet his eyes. Not that you mind all that much. His face is nice to look at. So are his eyes. Dark in colour but bright with many things. Happiness. Kindness. Intelligence. A wiseness as well, but rarely spoken out. He prefers to make you laugh to comfort you than use boring words. That's where his wiseness is used. To know how to make you smile.

You flinch when his thumb stoked over your cheek, right below your eye. It's tender, as all bruises are. You tried to cover it up... but none of your make up is thick enough. The smile he had worn ever since you walked in had fallen as he inspected the injury.

"Are you..."

You shake your head. It's not so fun when he worries. Why does he worry? There are better people to be worried about, you aren't one of them.

"I'm fine." You say with a smile.

He let's out a sigh that drops his shoulders. It was a sigh that sounded disappointed and stressed. If he's stressed then that's why you're here. He always said the company of a woman always put him at ease.