#aib x reader

You closed the door behind you, sealing the two of you in the room's stale air and muted light. Your footsteps carried you to the immobilized boy, and you knelt before him with a gentleness that would have looked almost tender to anyone who didn't understand what this really was.

Damage control. That's what you'd told yourself at first. He'd stumbled too close to the Beach's secrets, and someone needed to contain the threat until the Hatter decided what to do with him. But somewhere between the first day and the third, the narrative had shifted. Now you came because the hours without him felt thinner. Emptier.

He still hadn't looked up.

You reached into your pocket and took out a small package — snacks one of your subordinates had scavenged from a convenience store during last night's rounds. Cheap things, the kind he'd probably eaten a thousand times in his old life. You held it out to him.

Arisu could refuse. He'd refused before, pride surviving even here. But the boy was surely hungry now. You could almost hear it in the silence between you — the hollow ache beneath his ribs, the body's quiet betrayal of the spirit.

"Ah, right," you murmured, feigning sweetness. He was tied to that chair and gagged. How could he say yes or no? How could he even accept your proposal even if he wanted to? How could he escape the palm of your hand if you didn't give him the opportunity? "I forgot you can't serve yourself." But of course, you hadn't forgotten any of those details.

Your fingers found the knot of the black cloth at the nape of his neck, and you undid it with deliberate, sadistic slowness, feeling the fabric give way, watching his breathing change as the fresh air touched the irritated skin around his mouth, while you felt your heart fill with sick excitement.

The cloth fell into his lap, and Arisu let out a raspy sigh, his jaw trembling from the effort of staying clenched for so long. His struggle just to breathe was something that enchanted you. Simply because of what you had put there and because you could put it back whenever you wanted.

But Arisu didn't speak. He didn't ask for water. He didn't scream for help. He just raised his eyes — and you saw the cold fury there, the calculated contempt of someone who still believed they had some advantage, or at least some kind of unshakable motivation. A motivation you hadn't unraveled. Yet. That was almost electrifying. It fried every neuron in your brain, trying to understand how he still wanted to be in a position to confront you.

Others had given in for so much less, but there, that human being didn't seem to fear you in the slightest. If he did, he was perfectly capable of hiding it. You sometimes wondered if Arisu wasn't a specialist in hearts and not diamonds, as you had associated many times in your head. If that were the case, it would be even more fun, since you were one too.

"Not going to say anything?" You tilted your head, a smug smile on your lips. It was like watching your new favorite toy.

He just held your gaze. His silence was louder than anything that could be said.

"Alright," you sighed, feigning disappointment, but still opening the pack of biscuits. "I'll speak for the both of us."

You opened the wrapper with equal slowness, as if you wanted him to observe the precious meal in front of him — as commercial and cheap as it was, but in a dystopian world like that, the simple was luxury — and took out a biscuit, bringing it to his mouth. The young man turned his face away, his brow furrowed beneath the messy dark strands. Ah, he was still fighting you. How exciting.

"No." Finally, he said something, his voice coming out hoarse, broken, against his own will.

The sound of his voice — that defiant tone even when shattered — made something tighten inside you. A hot excitement that rose from your belly and spread through your arms, your fingers, your eyes, through every small centimeter of your body. It was almost like a kind of mental orgasm.

"Finally," you whispered, and the smile that spread across your face was too wide, too distorted. "I thought you were going to ignore me forever, Arisu."

The cookie was still in your hand, intact, and you stubbornly brought it to his lips again. This time, when he turned away, you were faster and your free hand grabbed his chin with brutality, forcing his face back into place.

"No," he repeated, but the sound came out muffled because your fingers were squeezing his cheeks, pressing them against his teeth. Those cheeks were so soft. You had to be careful, didn't you? You didn't want him to lose the softness of that face from hunger.

"No what?" You tilted your head, studying him the way an entomologist would study a rare insect under a magnifying glass. To you, Arisu was your new favorite specimen. "You don't want to eat? You don't want to live? Why did you come to the Beach if you don't want to live, Arisu?"

Your thumb slid across his lower lip and teeth, forcing an opening for the food to enter whether he wanted it or not. The cookie touched his tongue before he could close his mouth, and you pushed it in without hesitation. Your little insect needed that more than he'd like to admit.

Arisu tried to spit it out. You saw the movement of his jaw, the clear intention to expel it, and your other hand came up to cover his mouth over the cookie, forcing the food to stay inside.

"Chew," you ordered, your voice sweet, even if your actions didn't match it. "Or I'll hold your nose too."

His eyes widened — not in fear, but in indignation. That spark of intelligence you loved so much, now burning in powerless fury. He hated every second of it. And you loved every little millisecond. Every millisecond in which you could provoke a new reaction from him was almost like a gift.

However, when Arisu didn't obey, you did exactly what you had threatened. Your thumb and forefinger slid up to his nose, pinching his nostrils shut with sadistic precision.

"Seven seconds," you murmured, as if counting down for a naughty child. "Six. Five. Can you last four more seconds without air, Arisu? Three."

His breathing stopped. You saw his chest rise, the air trapped in his lungs, the internal struggle between dignity and instinct. And then, when his eyes began to water, when his body gave in to the involuntary, he chewed.

His jaw moved in slow, reluctant motions, as if each bite were an announcement of defeat. Even though they had barely glistened, the tears that had held themselves back from falling quickened your heart. For a moment, you wanted to know if Arisu had ever cried during any of the games. If he had ever been destroyed by something other than you. And that made you bite your lower lip in senseless anger.

You let go of his nose and he gasped, choking on the partially chewed cookie. Hearing him choke was almost exciting. You even felt the heat between your legs.

"Oh no, no," you almost sang. "You ate so nicely. Don't ruin it now. You know how hard it's been to get good food?"

Arisu swallowed. You saw his throat contract, his Adam's apple bobbing in a slow movement, and you felt such pure pleasure that you almost closed your eyes.

"One more," you announced without questioning how the young man trapped before you felt about you, and the second cookie was already between your fingers. Did he even like that flavor? Or did he hate you so much that the flavor didn't even matter anymore?

This time, Arisu didn't turn away. He learned fast — always so fast, you'd give him that. His mouth opened in a mechanical motion, his eyes fixed on some distant point behind you, as if he could disconnect from the experience itself. But you would make sure he was there. That he saw you.

You pushed the cookie in, and before he could chew on his own, your fingers found his jaw again — but this time to guide the movements. He would connect with the situation, whether he wanted to or not. He would see you, whether he wanted to or not.

"Left, right. Again, left, right," you whispered with perverse affection, moving his jaw like a puppet, forcing the rhythm of chewing. "Not so fast, Arisu. Savor it. I got this from a convenience store near Shibuya station, you know? Have you ever eaten one of these? You definitely have, right? You look like the type who'd stuff himself with cheap snacks and eat nothing else locked in his room. You look so much like a loser — but the best kind. My type."

The words flowed like poison you were injecting into his bloodstream while your fingers worked his jaw, his teeth grinding against the cookie in a rhythm you completely controlled, grinding in anguish because he could no longer disconnect from you. Swallowing came after — you pressed his chin upward with your palm, forcing his throat to open.

Arisu swallowed with a wet sound that made your fingers tremble with happiness.

"Perfect," you exhaled, and the word came out almost like a moan. Was it possible to moan just from this? "You're so obedient. So smart to understand how everything works."

You gave a little affectionate pat to one of the immobilized young man's cheeks.

"I want your brain, Arisu." Your voice dropped to a thread, intimate and disturbing. That was a pure, direct, immaculate desire. "Not just the answers you give me. I want to know how you get to them. I want your neural pathways, the synapses, the way dopamine explodes in your brain when you decipher a puzzle. Can you feel it? Can you imagine what it's like, from my perspective?"

You pulled your face away from his cheek and walked to the corner of the room where there was a small set of plastic-wrapped bottles. Tearing the plastic, you grabbed one of the bottles and approached Arisu again, bringing it to his lips. He drank by instinct, knowing you would force him to drink if he refused and it would be worse. Much worse. Water spilled down his chin, soaking his shirt stained with cookie crumbs.

"When your visa is about to expire tomorrow," you continued, your voice now almost casual, as if you were talking about the most mundane thing, "should I take you to the rooftop? Just to see the laser hit the middle of your forehead while the last image you have is me?"

Arisu coughed, water in his lungs, and you stroked his hair with the same hand that had forced him to eat. He was your little dog, your prey, your property.

"And then, maybe, I'd open your head. Just to see. Just to know if it was as beautiful inside as I imagined."

The words hung in the air, heavy and real, and you saw something break inside him. Not the resistance — that would always be there, burning in his eyes. But the hope. The last spark that this was a nightmare from which he would never wake up.

"Or I could maybe take you to a game with me today. What do you think?" You leaned in front of him, your hands on each arm of the chair, resting on top of his, on his wounded wrists that had strained so hard to escape that they had left marks. "Show me your potential, Arisu. And I'll let you live. That will convince the Hatter of your value. To me, you don't really need to prove anything. I already have enough. So? Do you want to live?"

CatBoy Chishiya! 🐾 Who loves slow lazy breeding. The intimate and provocative nature of continuously fucking you till you’re leaking is what is appealing to him. He enjoys the sound of your sopping cunt as you struggle to take in his swollen cock. It’s so endearing to watch his thick cum drip out of your abused pussy.

CatBoy Chishiya! 🐾 Who either wakes you up by lying on your chest, or eating you out in the morning. When he’s obedient, his reward is the taste between your thighs and there’s nothing else in the world he’d prefer over that. In routine like fashion he gropes your panties-clad mound and leans his face in to purr against the thin fabric. He knows how much you savor it, how much you love feeling the vibrations moving from your pussy to your belly, making your whole body tremble in pleasure. He glances up at you from below the blanket just to see your face flushing and your eyelashes flutter. He buries his face back in your swollen pussy before you’re even fully awake, a lewd moan slips from your shaky lips. Your body spasms violently and your head rolls back as you cum on his slightly abrasive tongue. He keeps on licking you through your orgasm, sucking every drop of your sweet juices until you're so overstimulated that you can't keep still for one second. He's chuckling at his point, dark brown eyes crinkling in both amusement and adoration, his arms leaves your trembling thighs to wrap around your waist, while he breathes on your quaking cunt. At first you believe its wrong—why would you let your own pet take advantage of you? Although this question started dissipating when you started returning the favor.

CatBoy Chishiya! 🐾 Who is absolutely the best kitty! That is, until he gets needy. He tries his best to keep his composure. Really, with all certainty he does! But the entire house smells like you, which makes everything ten times more difficult. Even when he tries to calm himself by stuffing his head in your pillow, he could still smell your sweet scent! His cock always gets really hard, so painfully hard. So the best solution is to hump your pillows until this heat passed.

CatBoy Chishiya! 🐾 Who quietly begs you to help him one night, the throbbing being unbearable.

"You want me to make you feel better?”

His ears perk up almost instantly and his eyes light up with your words. "Mhm, please yes—yes please…” He kitten licks at your neck and his hips rut closer to yours.

He didn’t last more than a few minutes rutting against your ass, softly whining as he whispered how good it felt. He kneads at your soft belly as he ruts into you like he would never obtain the opportunity to again, refusing to acknowledge that he’s going feral over his owner. But he can’t help it when you’re sucking him back in with every thrust, forcing his cock to twitch and jerk between your soft thighs. He can’t believe how perfect you are for him, like you were made to satiate his hunger.