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bridgetotheskyyy · 2 years

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Playing Parts

Summary: Tobi/Obito finally tries therapy Rating: Smut, 18+, noncon elements, stalking, psychological drama, implied mind control Word count: 9236 A/N: I hope you all enjoy this. It was a long time coming really. I've been wrestling with this fic for a minute - I was joking with a friend and just realized why not ACTUALLY send obito to therapy and see what wackiness unfolds? And so this fic was born. Disclaimer: I'm not a therapist nor do I have any authority on the matter! Please take everything in this fic with a grain of salt.

Wherever you were, he was also. He followed you, from one village to the next, after the dissolution of your family left you cast adrift, lost in the maddening fray of people in a world that couldn’t give less of a damn.

He understood the feeling.

He was entranced with you, the feelings you inspired, the impression you gave him ― all exotic, yet so endearingly familiar.

You had a dual shadow, yet you would never know.

You had a stalker, yet you would never know.

Because …

Because you looked just like her.

---------------------

“Another?”

You groaned, head in your palm. You peered down; your empty glass winked with the club’s flashing lights. You glanced at the bartender. He was being courteous, you acknowledged; he knew you were going nowhere. He was giving you that look; a strange marriage between pity and exasperation. You knew the look well; you often wore it as you studied your patients.

Oh, how the tables have turned.

“Ye … yeah,” You relented, crouching over the bar.

It was not as though you didn’t deserve such a look, either; once again, your love for bad boys and broken things had driven you to the comforts of the bar and its liquor stocked in its drawers. Another disastrous relationship gone up in flames, choking you with its fumes. And again, you chose to clear your throat by drowning in alcohol.

You tapped a heel against your suitcase, in which everything you owned was stored. Deja vu dizzied you, for years ago you were in this exact same position, with all your possessions hugged to your chest. Tears threatened the dryness of your eyes as memories of a murderous father and screaming mother incursed your mind, made you hunger for another drink.

And the suitcase’s meaning echoed the last: apartment searching.

Yay! Homelessness!

The bar’s raucous wasn’t enough to steal you away from self-pity. The bartender plopped your drink before you. You grazed the new glass of sake to your lips, licked the remnants from your lips.

Honestly, it was probably time you took your own turn on a therapist’s couch, but there were demons you were not quite ready to do battle with, and so, your therapy resided in supplying therapy for everyone else.

For now, you resigned to sharing a bar with a pack of other miserable drunken souls, all of them varying levels of drunk. In your sorrowful peripheral, someone took the empty chair beside you, but you could hardly chalk up the will to care as you downed the rest of your drink.

You steadied yourself on the bar as you reached for your wallet. You fiddled through it, only to find yourself petting a dust bunny.

Empty.

Your eyes popped.

Oh no.

The bartender eyed your wallet, your discrepancy.

He threw his towel on the counter. “Look, missy, this isn’t a fucking free for all! If you can’t pay, you can turn your pretty self around and leave.”

Some of your drunken peers snickered at you. You felt someone lean over you, a lecherous “I’ll help you pay, for a price …” made your skin crawl.

“I’ll pay for her!”

A hand slammed the table, moving away to reveal money.

The cheerful voice was so incongruous with the grimy club ― but it demanded your attention. You turned to your left, where you were met with an orange mask spiraling into itself.

The bartender’s eyes swung from the stranger to you, sighed. “Fine,” he grunted.

He swiped the money away. The other drunks, robbed of a show, began to disperse with disappointment, leaving you alone with your helper.

You blinked at your savior. “Uh ―” you searched for the correct word, “thanks …?”

It wasn’t meant to come out like so … unsure, but the mask was throwing you. The club lights caught onto it, giving you only a slight indication of an eye where the hole was situated.

Maybe it’s some sort of BDSM thing; I shouldn't judge.

You relaxed. “Thank you,” you said with more certainty.

“You’re welcome, miss,” said the character beside you.

A silence stretched. He ― he? ― abandoned his chair, exposing you to the breadth of his height.

Holy fuck, you swallowed.

His head lowered, and you felt his attention on you. A pause.

“You’re awfully sad, miss,” said the character, his cheerful voice weighed with a bit of emotion. “Tobi doesn’t think you should be so sad.”

He offered one more lingering pass at you, before striding into the thick of dancing, stumbling people and disappearing from your sight.

Your head swam with wonder. What the hell was that all about?

The wad of cash had been more than enough for a few more drinks after the one threatening to put you in the doghouse. After your fourth, you stumbled from the club and out the creaking door. Your vision blurred, steering with deer legs. The streetlights blared tangerine instead of white, spiraling in your imagination.

You don’t know how you made it home. Come morning, your eyes opened to the ceiling of your office, your body safe under the warmth of a blanket.

“So,” your patient took another drag from her cigarette, “that’s the story of how we got married for the third time.”

“Three times in one week,” You deadpanned. “That must be a record for you.”

----------------------------------

“Oh ―” something came to your patient’s mind, “Oh, and then his mother shows up, and she’s all like, ‘I thought I was wearing the wedding dress?’ I had to remind her it wasn’t her fucking wedding. She’s absolutely nuts! And he didn’t even stop her from starting a fight at the reception!”

Don’t laugh, You tell yourself. If you laugh, you’re not a good therapist.

“I should just let her go ahead and marry her own goddamned son,” Your patient continued. “That means I won’t have to; get the fucker off my hands.”

“Have you ever considered,” You began carefully, “that maybe your mother-in-law feels out of place in her son’s life and wants to contribute but doesn’t quite know how?”

She blinked at you, leaned back into your couch. “Go on.”

“And maybe if you gave her more responsibilities, ironically, she’d probably behave a lot better as she’ll feel like she’s needed?”

“Oh,” Your patient threw her cigarette-laden hand in the air. “You’re a genius. This is why I come to you.”

You couldn’t resist a smile; it was the only compliment you had received in a long time.

Well, except that night …

“Do you really think that’ll work?”

“It’s worth a shot,” You optimized.

You finished up with your patient and saw her out the door, breathing a huge sigh once the door was shut. You were exhausted ― and it was only 2pm.

It had been a week since the club and still you couldn’t stop thinking about the man in his orange mask who’d offered to pay for your drink. All else was a complete blur. The only thing that had come to occupy your mind ― along with your time ― was making your office your new apartment also; the living room was now reserved for sessions, while the closed doors down the hallway led to your bedroom, the kitchen hanging at the side of the living room.

It was the best you could do for now, since leaving your ex-boyfriend’s house. Your shoulders sank at the memory.

You’re awfully sad, miss. You shouldn’t be so sad.

It wasn’t a compliment exactly, but the closest you had gotten to one ― in a long time. The idea of someone thinking you were undeserving of the agony weighing down your life and wringing your heart was … nice. You had been touched.

And a little embarrassed. Was it that obvious?

A knock at the door and you startled, hand flying to your chest.

“I’m not taking any more clients today!” You shouted. “You’ll have to schedule another time!”

“Oh, sorry! But … but can Tobi come in anyway?”

Your heart sank. That voice …

Your hand flirted with the doorknob. You hesitated, unsure if you heard correctly. It can’t be … can it?

You retreated from the door. You hand twisted the knob and creaked the door open.

You raised your head. Your eyes caught orange spirals.

He saluted you. “Hello!”

It’s him …!

“Yo ― you …”

Without thinking, you backed away, widening the door for him.

“Tobi is sorry it is so late,” he said, towering over you as he entered. “Tobi wants to be a good boy! But … it doesn’t always work out that way.”

“From the bar …” You said, still gripping with his arrival. “How did you find me?”

He ― Tobi ― perked. “Tobi saw your ad!”

“My …” you blinked. “Ad …”

Oh yeah, I forgot about those.

Where was your head? It had been long since you plastered your posters all over the village, advertising your services. Anxiety waned off your chest; and for a second you had truly thought he had followed you … How ridiculous.

“After Tobi and Miss met, Tobi wanted to see if you were okay,” Tobi said, then flailed his arms, “Tobi also wanted lessons!”

“I’m sorry,” You said, beginning to recover from it all. “I don’t do walk-ins. You’ll have to schedule.”

“Oh,” Tobi’s voice was pleading, coupling his hands. “But can Tobi just have a few minutes? Tobi promises to be a good boy next time!”

What’s with the third person?

You were confused ― just as much as you were intrigued. You could not pretend as though you were not interested.

You crossed your arms, considering as stars twinkled around Tobi’s kneeling form.

“All right,” You said. “10 minutes.”

“Yay!”

Tobi twirled, and while he made a show of himself, you examined him. Donned in a mask ― No animal or distinctive features. He doesn’t associate himself with anything one would recognize; he must want true anonymity ― and bound in fabric of black from head to toe. Said fabric strapped him in perfectly, emphasizing strong pectorals, hint of abs …

You shook your head. Stop ogling him!

While Tobi’s happy dance commenced, you decided to ask:

“You’re a ninja, aren’t you?”

He stopped mid-twirl, turning back to you. A beat passed.

“Aww,” Tobi scratched the back of his head, where his mask ended and indicated spiked black hair, “what gave me away?”

“Well,” You shrugged, a hint of a smile tickling your lips, “the, uh, mask is peculiar. And you have … quite an impressive build.”

You didn’t want it to come off like you were flirting, but it sounded flirty. Shit. At least pretend like you’re a professional.

“It wasn’t hard to put two and two together,” You added to soften the suggestivity of your comment.

“Tobi is a ninja!” Tobi affirmed. “Tobi goes on scary missions all the time ― it’s fun!”

“Fascinating …” You cupped your chin, observing him.

Something caught Tobi’s eye; your bookshelves. He traipsed, arms flailing, toward the books. You followed him with wonder.

“So many books,” he said. He was nearly as tall as the shelves themselves, tipping his head up a tad to admire them all. “You must be really smart!”

“You …” You stood beside him. “Now you flatter me. It’s nothing really.”

But your humility didn’t stop Tobi from gobsmacking at the enormity of your collection, the density of the tombs.

“You have to read a lot to become a therapist,” You said. Seeing an opening, you added, “Do you read, Tobi?”

“No,” Tobi lowered his head. “Tobi was never the sharpest tool in the shed.”

“Don’t say that,” You said. “Neither was I, at first. It took me years to like reading.”

“Really?”

“Yep,” You piped up. “The trick is,” you raised a finger, “is to find a topic you’re interested in and read about that!”

You approached your dual couches, patting one. “Come sit, Tobi.”

Tobi obeyed, sitting on the couch opposite you. He shifted his head as he took his seat, exposing a bit of his neck to you; he truly was covered from head to toe, as you couldn’t detect a single speck of skin anywhere.

Tobi spotted you looking, and somehow managed to blush on top of his mask. He put a hand to his mask.

“Miss is staring …”

Your eyes widened before you averted them.

“You flatter Tobi!”

You fidgeted, desperate for a way out of this subject. “You,” you cleared your throat, “... seem a lot happier than the shinobi who come to see me.”

Tobi’s interest piqued. “Whaa? Tobi is not the only ninja you see?”

“Oh, heavens, no!” You waved him off. “They come to see me all the time in secret. It’s a rough job, and it gets to them all eventually. I don’t blame them, really. Even my old boyfriend was …”

You paused. You covered your mouth. Too personal! What had gotten into you?

Tobi was quiet for a moment.

“Miss’s boyfriend … was a ninja?”

“Yes, mm …” You cleared your throat again. “Let’s change the subject. This is your session after all. We have five minutes left. What do you want to talk about, Tobi?”

Tobi watched you maneuver a glass of water toward him on the table separating the two of you.

“Tobi was …” he began, voice cracking, “betrayed.”

Sympathy grazed you. “Oh, I see. Was it a girlfriend?”

Silence. Tobi shook his head.

“No.”

You studied Tobi; his shoulders fell, head hanging. It was startling to see such a chipper soul become so depressed, so demure.

He’s really quite depressed. His almost cartoony demeanor is a mask to conceal deep inner pain, further emphasized by the actual mask he wears.

You treaded carefully.

“Was it … a friend then?”

Tobi’s attention snapped to you and you resisted a startle. You had hit a nerve. Your eyebrows raised, expectant.

“... Yeah,” he answered. “A friend.”

You wanted to reach for him, but your training told you physical touch might be overstimulating if he was in the middle of recalling a traumatic memory. You reached, instead, with your voice. “Tell me about this friend, Tobi. This is a safe place.”

Nonetheless, Tobi was the one to fidget now.

“Tobi is not … used to talking about his feelings,” Tobi brightened when an idea seemed to strike him. “I know! Maybe Miss could share a little to help Tobi open up!”

You blushed. “Oh, well, I don’t …” It’s a good idea, but it might throw me off my game. “You know what? Let’s do it! If it’ll help you!”

“Yay!”

“Hmm … Let’s see,” You pondered, finger to your lip. At times like this, you would simply fabricate your background in order to help clients open up. It was dishonest, but it served the same purpose as the truth and kept things professional.

But this was different; Tobi was a shinobi, and everything in your bones told you he could detect any lie you told. You would surely expose yourself under such conditions, under such pressure.

You sighed, covered it up with a weak smile. “I’ve recently gone through a pretty bad breakup, Tobi. I know what it feels like to be betrayed.”

“Really …?” everything you said seemed so amazing to Tobi.

Your blush deepened. He’s surprised I’ve gotten my heart broken? “Yes. A boyfriend, he … Well, he cheated.”

Tobi emitted a soft “aww.”

“Miss is sad again …” he said. “Tobi doesn’t like her sad.”

“Thank you,” You said. You lowered your gaze, unable to deny the sting of legitimate pain the memory caused. “Fact is, he said that he would … he would always take care of me.”

You couldn’t name it, but the mood changed. You felt Tobi’s presence in the room totally. He regarded you … lovingly? Your brows furrowed, desperate to understand the shift in him.

Silence.

“... Tobi understands,” the cheer in his voice was all but gone. “He made a promise to a friend, a long time ago … Tobi’s friend broke his promise … He betrayed Tobi …”

Your eyes glued to Tobi, intrigued. “How does that make you feel, Tobi?”

“... Confused.”

This is brilliant; usually men won’t admit to feeling out of control.

“You’re doing so well,” You encouraged. “Keep going …!”

You saw movement in your peripheral, and your eyes trailed to see Tobi’s fists clenching at his sides, knuckles whitening.

Your gaze flickered back to Tobi ― but he was already looking at you. You peered closer until you could see a hint of his eye. Your eyes met his one, and there was ―

“It makes Tobi feel … rage.”

Red.

His lone eye flashed scarlet ―

You gasped, reeling back into the couch. Fear gripped your heart.

And as it had come so had it gone; his eye was normal, his demeanor lightened.

“Tobi is sorry!”

“It’s okay,” You caught yourself. Perhaps strong emotions bring on shinobi abilities I don’t understand. And what emotion it was. To see someone so happy go from sorrow to anger so quickly. Who was this guy? “Sometimes, when we bury our feelings, they can come out stronger than we can handle.”

Tobi sighed. “That makes sense. Still, Tobi didn’t mean to scare you.”

“I was only startled,” You leaned forward. “You could never scare me, Tobi.”

You believed him; looking at Tobi, how flustered he’d become at his feelings … You understood he was a ninja, but you couldn’t picture him actually hurting anyone.

Tobi was silent. “Thank you.”

Your eyes trailed to your watch. 10 minutes.

“And that’s all the time we have today, Tobi,” You said, standing. “Make sure to come see me again next week. And make sure you schedule this time.”

“That’s it?” Tobi said, rising as well. “That felt like no time at all to Tobi! Miss is so much fun to talk to!”

You ducked your face to conceal another blush and opened the door for Tobi.

“Right back atcha.”

Tobi chuckled and nodded to you one more time before leaving. You shut the door, pressed your forehead to its wood.

Was it just you, or had his voice … changed along with his eye?

You were exhausted, and it didn’t take long for you to lull into a nap, where Tobi’s eye and his deep voice chased you into dreams.

----------------------------------------------

Shower water rained on his back, disguising hushed pants inside white noise.

He hadn’t meant for the mask to slip.

So to speak.

You spoke of your boyfriend, and in his mind all he had morphed into Kakashi, until it was all he could think of, the rage suffocating him.

Jealousy compounded jealousy. Anger surged through him, was softened by the stroke Obito gave to his cock. Your face bloomed, the memory of your blush twitched his cock. And your smile. You had such a nice smile.

Obito closed his eyes, hung his head against the shower wall. While he stroked himself, he imagined it being your hands on his manhood. Tobi, fuck, you’re huge … He grasped, quickened his pace. Scenes in his mind hazed into one another; your boyfriend’s blood decorating the walls as he pinned you to your couch, crashing his lips to yours, fucking himself into your small, frail frame.

Don’t worry, (Y/n), I’ll save you …

The hot water sensitized Obito’s skin; he leaned a hand up against the wall opposite him, jerking harder now. Imaginary you begged in his ear. He buried inside of you, filling your sinfully tight walls with his cum.

“Tobi …!”

He stained the shower wall with his seed, a low grunt emitting from his mouth as he came. He released his cock, turned his hand so his palm revealed the evidence of his climax.

If there was any guilt to be had, it was dull, nominal. He could think only of your flushed, fucked out. You, panting underneath him. He thumbed the head of his sensitizing cock, watched it bounce back in place at his abdomen. A perverse thought crossed him, streaking you in his mind.

I really am a freak, aren’t I …?

“Tobi!” came Deidara’s voice, clipped and upset. “What’s the hold up?”

Obito laughed at himself. Oh, if only you knew, Deidara. He dressed, donned the mask and the character of Tobi once again, both fitting like an arm in a sleeve. He didn’t want to keep Deidara waiting.

He had to see you again.

“And he has the nerve,” Your patient said, another temperamental woman you dared not cross in your futile attempts to help her, “the absolute nerve to insinuate the baby’s not his. Can you believe that?”

You nodded, following. “So you know the baby’s his?”

“How’re you gonna ask me a question like that?”

You sighed, knowing your place. You remained silent as your patient rambled on about her multiple boyfriends, surely one of them being the father of her unborn child.

Admittedly, your head was elsewhere.

You were compelled to tell yourself for the umpteenth time: You were not falling for Tobi.

You told yourself in the mirror, in your diary, before bed. You were not. Your interest was completely professional ― the only reason you thought about him, day and night, was because he fascinated you. That fascination, of course, had nothing to do with your love for broken things, for bad boys, for mystery. But it was also something that could not be assuaged by a quick visit with one of your old boyfriends ― even your most recent ex who had, coincidentally, had stopped calling you.

You wanted only to know what was under that mask for Tobi’s own sake.

Not because you wondered what he looked like, or what his lips looked like, or what it would be like to lean into them and …

“Hello?” Your patient snapped her fingers. “Am I talking to myself here?”

You jumped. “Uh, no, of course not.”

“Then, great super mega therapist,” Your patient crossed her arms, eager for you to disappoint her, “what do you suggest?”

You resisted the urge to pinch the bridge of your eyebrows in frustration. You’ve got to be kidding me. No, no. patience … sometimes people just can’t see what��s right in front of them.

“This is a trust issue,” You replied. “Not a control issue.”

“Care to elaborate?”

“Your boyfriend doesn’t know if you’ve fully chosen him, so he doesn’t want to fully choose you, either,” You clarified. “There’s no point in being with you from his perspective if the moment you get upset you run and go out with another guy.”

Your patient lowered her gaze, uncomfortable. “You think he loves me?”

“Yes, honey, I think he does.”

Three hard knocks at the door stirred you both ―

It flew open.

A man came to the couch, calling out your patient’s name.

“I’m sorry!” he said.

He approached the couch, kneeling as if to propose.

“Oh my god,” Your patient raised from the couch, stars in her eyes. “You came for me!”

“I want this baby, love,” he said, intertwining his knuckles with hers. “I don’t care who’s baby it is. I want us to start a family.”

“Oh …” Your patient cooed. “I love you so much …”

“I love you.”

They proceeded to make out … Right in front of you.

You cleared your throat for their attention. “Hey, uh, this isn’t couple’s therapy.”

Your patient broke their kiss to stare at you. “Oh. You don’t do that?”

“No, sorry.”

You ushered them out seconds later with a “Happy babymaking, you two!” before shutting the door and locking it.

Methinks we need stronger locks around here. A few padlocks. Maybe a cross bar.

You composed yourself ― as best you could. You glanced at the clock. 10 minutes to 2pm. Tobi was next.

You adjusted yourself, swiped your lips with some makeup ― not too look good for him, but to be professional. You compiled your notes, of which you had many; deductions, theories, possible inquiries, anything that had come to your mind about Tobi since his last session.

I have to get him to speak more about this friend. He brought it up first, so it must be what’s truly bothering him. Perhaps, this friend is the reason why he hides behind this character he’s created.

You sat down, a bundle of notes in your lap, and waited.

And waited.

You went from your first page of notes to the 100th before smacking it with your face, admitting defeat.

Tobi was late.

Maybe he’s canceled. Panic struck you. He can’t cancel! Not before I ― I mean, he gets to know himself better!

You looked at the clock again. 2:35.

You were ready to cry when there was a knock at the door. You skedaddled, unlocked the door and threw it open.

“Tobi is here!” he cheered, hands up.

“Tobi …” You breathed out, sliding out of the way for him to enter.

“Tobi is sorry for the tardiness,” he said. “There were some nasty chores that came up that needed doing!”

You only grinned at him before realizing how close the two of you were at the door’s threshold. He dwarfed you in height. It sent butterflies dancing around your heart. Oh, gods ... How much lighter you would be in his arms, if he were to ever pick you up and …

He stared. “Hm? Is Miss all right?”

You snapped out of it. “Yes, I’m sorry, Tobi, come sit.”

“That’s good,” Tobi said, “because Tobi has done lots of thinking since his last session with you.”

“Mhm?” You sat on your side while Tobi occupied the couch across from you.

“Tobi wants to ask something …” he began. “It’s been on his mind. When someone hurts your feelings ― really bad ― what are you meant to do?”

You considered him. This is about his old friend, no doubt about it.

“It never really leaves Tobi’s mind,” he went on. “Being hurt. What should Tobi do?”

You shifted the notes away from you, self conscious of them. “Well, Tobi,” you began. “It depends on the level of hurt.”

“Miss means how bad Tobi feels?”

“Exactly,” You answered. “No one gets to tell you how painful something is; if it hurts, it hurts. That’s all there is to it. But the trick is, no matter how painful the situation, we should always head toward forgiveness, toward moving on.”

“Forgiveness,” there was a slight edge to Tobi’s voice now. “Miss means … to forget?”

“I mean to move on,” You said softly. “Totally different things, though people think they’re the same.”

“Tobi … thinks he understands,” Tobi said. “Could Miss … explain more?”

Your therapist’s intuition told you this was a trick; you were being tested. Tobi was gauging you, despite his feigned innocence. Thankfully, he was not the first one to do so, nor would he be the last.

“Sure,” You said. “Nobody intends to forget anything really; it’s not conscious. But forgiveness is always conscious. We can always try to forgive. It doesn’t mean what the other person did to you was okay, it means you refuse to be defined by their actions, only your own!”

“Oh,” Tobi’s voice shuttered.

There were a few beats where no one spoke. You didn’t question it; sometimes, silence was the best thing for a patient, to allow them time for things to settle.

“... Tobi doesn’t think he can do that.”

“Everyone can,” You assured. “But it takes time.”

You could detect Tobi’s discomfort by his movements alone. Silences, coupled with more fidgeting. A head turn here, a head turn there.

“Tobi has something else to say.”

“Go on.”

“Tobi … Tobi did have a girlfriend once!”

You denied the jealousy stinging you with every inch of your being. “Oh?”

“Yes, and Tobi was thinking about …”

“Hm?” You concealed your curiosity, though you felt your body leaning to Tobi. “thinking about what?”

“About … how much you look like her, Miss.”

Your heart skipped. Me? Look like her? You felt it again, something of which you couldn’t be sure because you couldn’t see any of Tobi’s face, but the strange sense that his attention on you was rapt. You were naked in his presence; he could see right through you, not the other way around, despite your efforts.

“I would ―” Your mouth was unusually dry. “I would thank you, but I’m not sure if you and this girlfriend are on good terms, so …”

“We were,” Tobi’s voice was unusually quiet.

“Oh,” You blushed. “Then ― then thank you …!”

Tobi didn’t answer. More silence, but this bout of it felt more intimate for reasons beyond you.

You smiled, hung your head.

“Miss …”

“Hm?”

“Can … Can you do Tobi a favor?”

Anything.

His voice was even quieter now. The heat accumulating in your body startled you. “Y― yes?”

“Could Miss take her glasses off for Tobi?”

What? You had never had a patient ask something of you ― not like this. However, you did so, crossing the frames and putting them in your lap.

Tobi “wowed,” his head cocking. “You’re awfully pretty, Miss …”

You fiddled with the legs of your glasses. His compliment was so sincere ― he was so sincere ― and you felt so seen.

“... Could I see more?”

You didn’t catch the “I” instead of “Tobi,” only the insinuation of his requests. Tobi was engrossed by you, and you felt as though you could not speak. You felt drugged, almost, under his focus.

“More?” You repeated. “What ― what do you mean?”

“I mean,” Tobi’s voice was hardly above a whisper. “Could you … spread your legs for me?”

Under any other circumstances, under any other patient, you would end things immediately, banish him from the room or flee from it yourself. Call the authorities, even. But this was Tobi, and something in his voice ― his smooth, deep voice ― you found it impossible to object.

You fevered as you bent your fingers underneath the hem of your skirt and peeled it upwards, spreading your legs as you had been asked.

By now, your pink panties must have been in view, cupping your throbbing cunt.

“Such a pretty pair of panties …”

This, you thought, somewhere, in the part of your brain still sane and functional, was not professional.

But you couldn’t bring yourself to care as Tobi held you under his heated gaze. You could’ve sworn you saw his eye flash red once more, but …

“Touch yourself, Miss,” he ordered softly.

“What?”

His red eye met you through the mask.

“You know you want to.”

That’s … that’s not the point.

Your hand seemed to move on its own as it grazed past your thigh, teasing the sensitive inner skin, until the pad of your finger pressed into your clothed pussy.

Tobi breathed sharply. It spurred you on. You rubbed fingers against the cloth, you clit hidden from view. You parted your legs wider, gaze heavily lidded as you became entranced by your ministrations.

Your eyes fluttered as you snuck a hand into your panties. You teased yourself with ghostly touches.

“Yes,” Tobi breathed. “Show me, show me …”

You circled your clit, a new thrum of pleasure sweeping through you. Your other hand came to tug at your breast, the strip of your shirt falling past your shoulder. Your eyes closed at last, your ears treated to the concentrated sounds of Tobi’s clipped breath.

“(Y/n).”

A moan, from him. Your head fell into the cushions of the couch, spreading your legs farther apart.

“Oh, Tobi, fuck …”

“(Y/n) …”

You opened your eyes, half-expecting to see Tobi’s cock cradled in his hands.

“Show me more.”

You knew what he wanted. You needed to show him everything. You shoved the band of your panties to the side, revealing your wet lips to him.

“No,” he murmured, holding out a hand. “Give them to me.”

You retrieved your wet fingers, lifted your lower half to remove your panties. What am I doing?

He took them from you.

“Good girl,” he said. “Keep going.”

You spread your legs for him again, reclaiming your hungry clit and rolled it between wet fingers. “A ― ahh …” You played with yourself as Tobi held your underwear hostage. You found your erect nipple beneath the fabric of your shirt and teased it, hardening the nub. Tobi leaned in, elbows on his knees, cheering you on with a silence “yes” here and there. Your vision blurred, but surely the bulge between his legs hadn’t always been there?

A dark chuckle, followed by a falsetto of what should’ve been his true voice. “So very pretty, miss …”

You felt your stomach tightening. You dipped a finger into your entrance, bucked up so Tobi’s view was clear. Another strangled grunt from him and your head hit the couch, his name on your lips as you clenched around your finger and abused your throbbing clit with your thumb.

The thrums of pleasure were forever. You couldn’t hear Tobi anymore. You slit your eyes open after a moment, the reality of what you had done still far from dawning. A weight came across your body, compelling you to open your eyes further.

You looked up, and Tobi was on top of you.

Nestled between the gap in your thighs. One hand was at the hem of your skirt, while the other cradled your head.

“Amazing show, Miss (L/n),” he said. “I look forward to our next meeting. I think I just may make a breakthrough.”

Your blurred vision was not cured until several blinks later. Your eyes cleared, and he was gone. When you recovered, the sun was departing, bathing you in the orange light of its departure.

You couldn’t even convince yourself it had been a dream; your panties were still gone.

---------------------------------------

You hadn’t seen Tobi in weeks.

Patients came and went, but they bored you. You diagnosed both them and their problems with ease. The only one who stuck ― who haunted your every movement, your every conscious and unconscious hour ― was Tobi.

You were good at what you did, but still, you felt a fraud; the guilt of your … performance ― your amazing show, as Tobi had put it ― had weighed on you. How had he convinced you to do something so … raunchy? Why didn’t you stop him?

And what was worse: you had no distractions. Work was more of a reminder than anything else. Your ex-boyfriend had completely ceased any and all contact with you, and while under normal circumstances you would have been relieved to not be pulled into such toxicity again, his utter silence had come to worry you.

No peace for the wicked. Three attacks had come to the village in a little over two weeks. Chaos inside you and out.

You … you were beginning to think it was all Tobi’s doing.

But you could prove nothing. If you had any sense at all you would march to the village’s police force and report everything you knew, not what you could prove.

But … You didn’t want to. You only wanted him to return to you.

You were just a little obsessed.

By “obsessed” you meant: surely, Tobi had done something to your brain. You looked in the mirror and saw your face concealed by an orange, spiraling mask. You could hear his laugh before being dragged into sleep. Sometimes, shadows hugged you from behind, and you would turn to see nothing there. Nothing at all.

Day and night, Tobi ran through your mind. The idea of him scaring your ex away thrilled you, flattered you, more than it could ever frighten you.

You tapped the couch cushion with an agitated finger. The entire day had been a blur, four or five patients, the last having left only 10 minutes ago. Something about … wanting to insure a circus, or being run over by a clown or … something. To be totally honest, you couldn’t bring yourself to remember.

Your world began and ended with the possibility of a knock at your door. You stared at it, the chocolate color imprinted in your mind. Static formed around your vision.

There was no knock.

The knob ― twisted.

You jerked. The hair on your arm stood at attention as the knob jerked. You swallowed dryness as the dark shape of Tobi emerged, tangerine mask the only splash of color in a world of black.

Despite your eagerness, it was a while before you acknowledged his presence

“Long time no see.”

Tobi creaked the door closed.

“How did you know it was open?”

Your curiosity filled the pause; which voice would Tobi meet you with?

“Something … just told me it would be.”

Ah, deep voice it is then.

Tobi faced you. “I wasn’t intending to be gone so long.”

“Hm,” was your reply. You looked away, arms crossed. You knew you had no right to be so … wifey. Like he was your long suffering husband who’d missed one dinner too many. But Tobi’s sudden drop from earth had affected you with an almost feverish longing, and the hold he had on you, suddenly, drove you angry. “It’s your money you’re wasting.”

“Does that mean you miss me when I’m gone?”

You didn’t give into his teasing.

“I have lots of other clients, Tobi,” Your truth cocktailed with lies. “Lots to keep me occupied.”

“Mhm,” Tobi said, his voice dipped mockingly “Occupied …”

You rolled your eyes as Tobi amused himself across from you. An answer to your hypothesis; you couldn’t lie to him.

“Oh, come on, Miss (L/n),” Tobi said. “What happened to your sense of humor?”

You looked to him. “These … attacks.”

He cocked his head. “Hm?”

“Do they have anything to do with you?”

Tobi was quiet.

“My ex,” You continued. “He used to hound me to come back to him ― and usually I would ― right up until you started seeing me. What about that?”

The pause was longer than the last. Anxiety pumped your heart.

“... No.”

You didn’t know if you believed that ― could he lie to you?

“No to what?” You pressed. “The attacks or my ex?”

A giggle.

“Yes.”

This cheeky motherfucker ―

You fled from the couch, anger along with curiosity and a kaleidoscope of feelings Tobi aroused in you propelling each step away.

“(Y/n).”

You faced him.

“... I’m sorry.”

You were quiet.

“Let me make it up to you.”

“Oh really?” You said. “How?”

He faced you now, tapping the blazed wood of his mask. “I’ll show you.”

Your eyes flashed.

“You’ve wanted to know what I look like since the beginning, right?” he said. “Come.”

And there it was again; the same voice, compelling you to anything ― anything. You came around, hands trembling, to sit beside him.

He took your hands, guiding them to either side of his mask.

You breath knifed. Your fingers cradled the spiraling lines of the mask’s edge. Slowly, you began to lift, the mystery of Tobi unwinding with each inch.

Chin … lips … nose … eyes.

Eyes.

One eye flared scarlet, specks of blackness swimming in the optic. The other eye was purple and forever ringed, bedecked with perennial loops spinning into eternity. A part of his face was as spiraled as his mask, the result of some injury you could not place nor name.

A mystery within a mystery.

The mask plopped to the floor.

Tobi’s lips curled into a smirk. “I haven’t shown anyone my face sin ―”

Whatever Tobi was going to say died away as you flung yourself onto him, your lips locking with his.

He pulled away for only a split second, surprised by your moxy, before pulling you into a second, deeper kiss.

You crawled atop him. Tobi’s hands feasted on you, satiating themselves on your breasts to your hips, coming to squeeze at your thighs, scooting you up farther onto him. Your surprised whimper broke the kiss for only a second before Tobi retrieved you again with his mouth.

You startled at cold fingers on your skin, before realizing Tobi's hands had gone beyond to fiddle with your bra. His lips peppered your chin. A thought came to you as you fluttered your eyes closed.

“Do you still have them?”

Tobi raised to look up at you, cocked his head.

“My …” You blushed red. “Underwear.”

“ … Yes.”

You glared but there was no bite to it. “Give them back.”

A dark chuckle.

“Come and get them.”

You crashed lips to his for the third time, flicking his lips to let you in. You pushed him into the couch as his hands toyed with the clasp of your bra. In agony, you broke the kiss just to fling your shirt away and dispose of your bra, revealing your tits to him.

Tobi’s gaze was predatory as he raised to follow you but you pressed him down again, breasts crushing to his chest. You leaned into him, nether regions against his, feeling the hardness evident there. You grinded into him, earning a soft grunt in return.

“Nevermind,” Your breath warmed his earlobe. “I don’t think I’ll need them.”

You peppered Tobi’s chin until you nibbled his lips, tongue coming to play with his. He hugged you to him as he flipped you. You let out a girlish squeal ― so strong ― before Tobi released the kiss, trailing down your neck, nibbling at the jut of your collarbone, his hands traveling south.

“All I could think about,” Tobi’s words kissed your nipple, flicking it with his tongue, “since you put on that little show for me …”

You mewled as his hand slithered into your panties, fingers introduced to your wet folds.

You let your head swing back to avoid Tobi’s taunting glare, his smirk too evil to bear.

“So very wet, Miss …”

Two different voices mingled in Tobi’s laugh as he stroked your clit, his teeth grazing over your abused nipple.

“Have you touched yourself since, Miss?”

He bit you.

“Aa ―ahh!”

“Have you made yourself come since …?”

A long, tortured stroke at your clit.

“Ahh!” You arched into him. “Yes!”

Tobi grunted, shifting downward on you. He tugged your skirt down your thighs, pulling your panties along. He kneeled at the couch, robbing you of your clothes, and for a second you think he will knick another pair of panties from you when he flings your skirt and underwear away, widening your legs so he might be accepted between them.

Fingers trailed up your one inner thigh as Tobi kissed up the other. He kissed his smirk into your mons pubis, dancing around your clit, always so close ―

Before widening your lips and licking at your clit.

“Tobi …!”

Tobi’s thumb came to play with your clit as he licked, a soft hum as he savored the taste of you. Your clit became the victim of both his thumb and his tongue as he played with you. Your legs squeezed his head, mewling as his tongue lapped up what threatened to leak from your folds.

“T ― Tobi …!” You barely managed to speak at all. “I want …”

Tobi stopped, looked up to you as you propped on an elbow.

“I want …” You were too flustered to move much; you angled your foot past Tobi’s thigh, to his crotch.

The side of Tobi’s lips quirked. He seemed to catch onto your meaning as he raised from the floor and gestured for you to stand. You did so.

“No,” he said, laying down again. “Use my mouth.”

Your eyes flashed wide. You walked toward him, his hands coming to guide you as you straddled him. Your eyes rolled back as you rested against Tobi’s face, his lips coming to kiss and suck at your labia.

You moaned out as Tobi ate you, the rest of his body clear as day to you, still clothed but muscles pronounced against the black wrappings of his outfit. He sucked hard at your clit and you fell forward, steadying yourself against the hardness of his chest. Your eyes wandered to his bulge, his erection tempting your fingers.

You reached forward, brain hazed by Tobi’s sucking and licking, lapping up all of your juices. You threatened to lose your balance again as he hummed against your labia, his hands coming to your waist to steady you on his own. You reached, grasped his cock through his trousers ―

Tobi pulled you forward and you gasped at the sudden jerk.

“No.”

He went back to work on you, squeezing your thighs into his hands. You licked your lips, tempted even more by the imprint of his cock.

You reached again, handled his erection ―

Smack!

Your ass stung from the force. You squealed as in a blink, Tobi had turned you around so your back was facing his body. You looked down, his mismatched eyes narrowing at you.

You opened your mouth to fight ― before Tobi flicked his tongue against your clit, his nose pressing into you. You straddled the couch’s arm, leaning over him. You licked your lips, the sting against your skin still mingling deliciously with Tobi’s adventurous tongue.

He missed nothing, his tongue expertly catching up any juices that flowed from you. You grasped the couch, hard. Oh, you’d be bone dry by the time he was done with you.

Your stomach tightened. You leaned harder into Tobi’s mouth, surely suffocating him now, but it did nothing but spur him on as he forced you to him, focusing all of his attention on your abused clit.

“Ah ―Aaaah!” You rocked into him. Your orgasm fell over you and into Tobi’s mouth, your juices watering his tongue as you convulsed above him. You lost yourself entirely in the throes of climax, yet it didn’t matter; Tobi’s grip held you in place as he drank from you, still wagging his tongue against your clit.

You clenched again and again, burying a hand in the black of Tobi’s hair as your climax rode itself out. You relaxed against him, felt him emerge from underneath you.

“Delicious, Miss …”

Your back fell against the couch as Tobi came to tower you. He kissed your forehead. He reached downward, zipping down his fly. His cock sprang free and a new thrum of pleasure sang through you, but not before Tobi grabbed you, switching places with you and placing you above him once more. Your pussy moistened his cock.

“Now,” he said. “Where were we?”

Your movements were sloppy, disoriented as you lifted your hips, maneuvered Tobi’s cock at your entrance ― and shuddered a breath as you fell forward, feeling his cock disappear between your thighs. You pressed hands against the hardness of Tobi’s chest for purchase. Your eyes widened as the full extent of Tobi’s length sheathed into you. The position made your heart flutter. You were riding him.

Tobi’s hands found your waist again as you moved ― a light gasp escaped your lips as you bounced, miniscule movements not nearly enough to unsteady Tobi.

“Ooh ~” Tobi sang. “Oh, miss~”

His high voice followed by a deep laugh. Your hands traveled from his pectorals to his throat, squeezing hard as you rode him. You felt him intake a sharp breath, as though caught unawares. He gripped you harder, slammed you down on his cock, earning another gasp from you.

Skin slapped as you met Tobi while he met you. You were sure you would have Tobi’s hands imprinted on your waist forevermore as you bounced, circled your hips on him. You pressed thumbs into the dip of his throat, curled your lips at the strangled moan he gave seconds after.

Tobi’s hands traveled from your waist to the stinging skin of your ass, kneading hard at the flesh. His mismatched eyes flickered to your wild breasts, bouncing and swinging with your harsh pace.

“So rough~”

You bucked down onto him, the squeal he gave in return bordering on girlish ―

“Oh, miss, you’re so good ~”

A blink and you were underneath him, his weight forced on you.

“If I had known you were like this the whole time, miss,” Tobi said, pausing to lick the plump of your lips, “I wouldn’t have waited so long.”

And he thrust, hard, into you. Your lips parted to gasp, only to be filled with Tobi’s two fingers. You sucked on his dual digits as he pounded you, throwing a leg over his shoulder to open you wider to him.

Your skin stung as he hit against you, slapped endlessly with each hard thrust. Your eyes roll as Tobi’s hand returned the favor, clasp over your throat.

“No,” his deep voice commanded. “Look at me.”

Mouth agape, you obeyed. Tobi’s hand rolled over your helpless clit. You arched into his hold, eyes fluttering on his wicked smile from above. You gasped as he tightened his hold on your throat ―so strong. He swiped your clit, swiping as his hips crash into yours ― again, again, again ―

“To ―Tobi …!”

“Such a tight little willing cunt,” Tobi growled. He sunk you into the couch with each powerful thrust, pulling out until the tip of his cock tickled your entrance, only to slam back into you with a bruising pace. “Just like I thought …”

You mewled and whined underneath him, the force of his pounding overwhelming. You felt the tightness return to your stomach as Tobi praised your cunt for taking him so well, his fingers dancing over your clit. You choked out against his grip, resisting another eye-roll as it becomes too much ―

Only for Tobi to pull out entirely, leaving you disturbingly barren.

“No ―!” You gasped, your orgasm sinking beyond the horizon. Tobi’s hand left you and you raised ― only for him to twist you over. You tits jiggled and squeeze against the cushions as Tobi wrung your hands around, holding them at your back.

You relented all control, eyes closing; does this mean he’s not stopping?

You felt the heat of his cock against your skin, slipping through the plush slip of your ass, then ―

Your pained squeal mingled with Tobi’s laughter as his cock slipped into your puckered ass.

“Tobi …!”

He paid you no mind, gripped your hips, thrusting before you could adjust to his length. You bit into your tongue as he dragged your ass back to meet him.

“Perfect …”

You tried to bury yourself in the cushions ― only to be pulled back by Tobi’s grip on your hair. You arched, this time only to accommodate his hold on you. The thrusts shifted from painful to painfully pleasurable, and you moaned in his hold, rocking back into his hands.

“Good,” Tobi said. “Don’t pretend like you don’t like it, miss.”

You could feel the plush of your ass bouncing against his abdomen, the tightness coming back but of a different kind. You clenched your ass involuntarily, choked as Tobi’s weight came over your back, his hand shadowing your cunt, palming your clit.

“You wanna come?” he breathed in your ear. “Want your patient to make you cum?”

You balance against the couch’s arm with a loud moan, Tobi’s hold on your hair flipping your head back.

“Yes! Gods, Tobi, please ―!”

Your hands fist over the loose cushions as Tobi pounded you with all his force. He released your hair as you came with a scream, your head falling into the couch. Your orgasm speared you along with his cock, and yet he kept on, thrusting hard into you.

“Yes …!” Tobi hissed.

It had felt as though you had been fucked forever when he finally pulled out. You twisted your head to see him leave the couch, but there was no need; Tobi lifted your head, his grip strong enough to make you abandon the couch and land on your knees in front of him.

A sinful thrum of pleasure fluttered your pussy as you knew what was to come. Tobi fisted his cock above your face. You closed your eyes.

With a deep groan, his cum painted your skin ― your lips, your chin, the upper plains of your chest. You licked up some of the heated coating that frosted your lips.

Once finished, Tobi still stood above you, head hung back, completely clothed, and it occurred to you that the two of you were at the moment opposites in every way. You occupied yourself, devouring the bitterness of his seed as he settled into post-coital bliss.

It was you who raised to meet him, wrapping arms around his waist, head tilted to see him.

“Come back,” You said. “Just one more time.”

Tobi tilted his head at you, inquisitive but quiet. He seemed more human to you now, but no less a mystery.

“You’ve seen too much.”

“I won’t tell a soul,” You said, tightening your grip. Who would you tell? Who cared? “I promise. I just … want you.”

Let me come with you. Whatever it was Tobi did, whether it was underground, corrupt, illegal, you didn’t care. You wanted whatever this was to last, you wanted to know Tobi, intimately, forever. You wanted to be the help he needed, his partner, his …

Tobi’s hand came to cup your head, a gesture that came with pain due to the many grips on your scalp, but his hold was gentle.

“I want to help you …” You said. “You know I can; in more ways than one, if you want …”

Tobi's mismatched gaze roamed to the floor. He considered what you were saying. Then, he smiled.

It saw it come before it came. Would he kill you? Or …?

“You remind me so much of her,” Tobi said. “She would’ve wanted to help me, too …”

You choose not to delay your demise, whatever shape it came in. You brought a hand up to his cheek, turning his gaze back to you ―

You admired the purple of his eye, the scarlet of the other ―

Blackness.

-----------------------------------

You had gone completely limp in his hold. He held at the small of your back, your body arched against him as though dipped in a dance.

“Sorry, Miss …” Tobi said, his lighter voice alleviating the tension he felt in his chest. “But this is what you’re good at. Tobi can’t take you away.”

He settled you on the couch, retrieved the folded blanket that was lingering on its back and sheltered your naked body with it.

“You can’t ever know Tobi, and you won’t remember him, either,” Tobi said. “Tobi thinks it’s better this way. Because, in the end … You can’t ever know Tobi. We’re all just playing parts.”

He saw an older Rin in your sleeping face, saw you as your lips parted and snuggled into the interior of the couch.

“This was good for Tobi, though,” Tobi said as he approached the door. “Tobi … enjoyed talking about his feelings.”

Tobi took one more lingering look at you, before readjusting the mask he wore at all times and left the door, locking it behind him.

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