Some day.

The first time you wake up in her body—the exact one like the character you customized, the better version of you—you scream so loud before a phone—assuming it’s hers—rings.

It’s Xavier. He’s upstairs. Ah damn it, how does she usually speak?

You ponder a bit too long before the ringing stops, and he messages you instead.

“What happened, Y/N? Should I go down?”

“Nothing happened! Just a cockroach in my bathroom! No need to come, I got it handled already!”

“Cockroach? You fight nastier wanderers, but you’re screaming because of a cockroach…?”

You don’t reply. Your heart thumps so loud it might jump to your throat; even the watch gives you a warning that your vitals are going haywire. You know where you are: at her apartment, with the dolls you caught from the arcade—that’s right. I did, not the LIs. They really suck at catching dolls. But that’s not the point. This is inside your game. But why are you here? You still don’t know. The last thing you remember in your world is eating half a cup of noodles, saving money for gems.

You ask for sick leave for a week to adjust yourself before facing this world. Everyone knows she’s a hardworking Hunter, so they all message you asking what is wrong and if there’s anything they can do to help. You feel glad she has a better social life than you do in real life.

You cancel all appointments with the LIs. Looking at her schedule—fully packed between work and meetings with five men while still having time for herself—you don’t think you can pull this off.

And so you search her apartment. You get startled several times by the hovering displays you accidentally touch—how your world’s tech can’t compare to this. Everything is almost automated, except cooking and working. You spend three days learning about this world before a bell disturbs your concentration. You take a peek; it’s Zayne.

Damn it—why does it have to be him?

You know how he pays attention to small details, and you’re sure he can see through you. He might “interrogate” you if he finds out you’re not her. Or worse, he’ll admit you to a psychiatric ward if you tell him your truth.

Ah, screw this. You open the door. There he is, in his neat white shirt, sleeves folded at his arms. He walks inside carrying a medical bag.

“Uh, hi? What’s with the bag?” You cautiously scan the contents. He pinches his nose and sighs.

“Did you forget the mandatory examination? You were supposed to come two days ago. I came so I can file the report immediately.” He swiftly takes his stethoscope and puts the blood pressure monitor on the table. “Now sit.”

You immediately sit, avoiding conversation so you won’t be found out. Eventually, you’ll be caught, but at least let it not be now, while you still know nothing about this world.

“Your heart beats faster than usual. Are you stressed or in panic?” You jolt, then smile sheepishly. He narrows his eyes a bit.

“I was just catching a cockroach, Zayne. It flew everywhere and I had to run to catch it.”

“Cockroach, huh…” Zayne doesn’t continue, only his hands working while examining your health. “Is there any discomfort or pain? I know you just came back from a grueling mission.”

No wonder your body aches all over. She might be used to this level of “discomfort,” but you’re used to a more peaceful life.

“I’m fine. Just a minor scratch or two. I already treated them by myself.” You try your best to mimic her usual conversation and tone. Luckily, Zayne just replies with a small sigh.

“You should take care of your body better.” He puts all his medical stuff back, then pulls up his laptop to enter your medical records. “I’m heading back soon. Want to meet up later tonight?”

“Uh, I still need time studying—recuperating. Maybe next week?” You grab your phone, pretending to look at your schedule.

He lifts an eyebrow, then stands immediately. “Fine. We can talk about it later.”

You walk to the front door, seeing him out. “Thanks for coming, Zayne.”

He turns his head, then kisses your forehead quick. “Don’t think you can run for long, Y/N.” Then he clicks the door shut, leaving you stunned.

Wait—I don’t remember raising his affinity this high?!

You put your hands over your mouth and throw your own—her body—onto the bed, rolling around, holding back a scream from the embarrassment of that kiss.

The next day is worse. Rafayel comes in and brings a lot of food, saying his "cutie" needs more nourishment after battling such powerful wanderers by herself. All of them are definitely not your favorite. You hate everything he laid on the table.

“Cutie, why aren’t you eating?” He props his face up with his hands on the table, glancing at you like a playful puppy. “Are you mad at me or something?”

“No? Why would I?” You feel confused about how to answer; you aren’t ready to meet anyone. You can only avoid his gaze every time he looks at you with concern. “I’m just not hungry, Raf.”

“But I bought all your favorites from that 5-star restaurant you like! How could you say you’re not hungry—you’re definitely angry at me!” He huffs and pouts, his hands folded across his chest.

“I—I’ll just take a bite, ok?” You take a spoonful of a soup—the least you hate—and struggle to keep down what you just swallowed.

“I know you’re hungry, eat some more!” He grins happily; you feel guilty.

He then continues to yap about lots of stuff and you just nod while eating the rest of the soup, taking notes on information about her life.

“You’re really not in the mood for eating, huh…” he scratches his neck awkwardly. “Was it because of me?”

You’re at a loss for words, only glancing at him. His eyes are watching you a bit too deeply for your affinity level. He takes your hand and puts his cheek on it, nuzzling your hand. You feel your hand go stiff,not knowing how to respond.

“Did you… hate what happened the day before you went on a mission?”

He stops nuzzling, his eyes looking at yours with a hint of sadness. He moves toward you, his hands on your cheeks. He leans a bit closer, almost kissing you. You clench your eyes closed, waiting for his kiss. But a moment later, nothing happens. You open an eye to see him smiling back like nothing happened.

“Juuust kidding!” He giggles like what he did before was just a prank.

“You—!” You want to get angry, but you can't.

He stands and looms over you, both hands on the table around you with the same smile still plastered, but it doesn’t reach his eyes.

“I wasn’t, though. I’ll be waiting at my studio.” He backs away, taking his clutch before walking to the door. “You better be ready, cutie.”

You’re speechless as he looks back and blinks an eye before leaving and closing the door shut.

“Warning, warning, abnormal vital signs detected!” You jump at the loud notification.

Ah shit, what do I do?? You cover your face with both hands. It was a fun game, surrounded by five men who chased after you, but if you’re really stuck here, you can’t have them all. You sound like a jerk already, thinking about how to reject four of them.

Not to mention Tara and the whole association. Her body has awesome reflexes, but it won’t help you battle wanderers. You used to just press the buttons randomly when you were bored, but now? You’re going to die if they assign you to a solo mission.

Your concentration snaps at the sound of a window clacking. A crow is there—tapping the glass to be let in. Mephisto. Has Sylus been looking at your apartment this whole time?

You open the window and it flaps its wings in. It perches on top of your table, eyeing the food.

“You can eat them.”

Another ring from your phone. Sylus.

“I’m coming over tonight.” And he ends the call. You find yourself in a cold sweat. He could torture you if he finds out you’re not her.

You pace around, thinking of what to do, but your head is stuck. You use the time to clean up the rest of the food and the whole apartment. You don't realize that it has suddenly turned to night.

Another ring. An ominous one. You don’t need to take a peek.

“Open up, Y/N.”

So you do. He is standing right in front of the door; you have to tilt your head up to see his face, not used to his height. His eyes are looking at you, searching for something. He smells like leather and expensive wine, mixed with oud.

“Aren’t you going to let me in?”

You immediately open the door wide, and he enters, sitting straight down on the sofa. He stretches one arm across the back of the couch.

“So, who are you?” He asks straight to the point. Shit.

“Wh-what do you mean, Sy…?” You smile and speak, but your tone and your smile feel so out of place that you know he feels it too.

“Don’t lie to me—it’s no use.” He chuckles and shakes his head as he stands, walking slowly toward you. The closer he gets, the harder you feel your heart pounding. “You might think you mimic her perfectly, but your movements are more fluid. Different.”

“So I ask you again,” he corners you against the wall, both hands pinning you in so you can't escape,“who are you?”

I personally would run if Sylus ever interrogates me. He’s handsome and nice to mc but to everyone else? I might confess every sin I committed if he asks. 😂

“Tch… cruel?” you smirk. “I thought you didn’t mind when I had my way with you?”

He shakes his head, making a sound somewhere between a laugh and groan. “I am letting you,” he insists, tugging lightly at the restraints binding his hands behind him. 

“Really?” you muse, returning your hand, wrapping your fingers firmly around his cock for what must be the nth time. “Sounds an awful lot like you’re complaining.” 

A broken grunt slips from his lips the moment you begin stroking again. Precum leaks steadily from his flushed tip, glistening against the pad of your fingers as you swipe it. A bead of sweat trails from his hairline, proof of just how long you’ve been dragging this out. 

“I’m—just—fuck—“ 

“Hm..?”

You squeeze, and Sylus moans. His cock throbs hard in your hand and this time he’s unable to stop himself. Thick white cum begins to dribble from his slit before it shooting out, spurting across his chest and your fingers. 

You hand keeps pumping his length, smearing the mess as you watch his orgasm ripple through his body. He twitches, pleasure blurring into overstimulation.

“Well,” you murmur, "you definitely weren’t supposed to cum yet.”

2026 © thewrldx

It’s surreal, and yet it is real - at least as far as any hunter technology can tell. Your Grandmother’s living room, resurrected in every detail, as if the explosion had never happened. And perhaps more unsettling yet, untouched, as if it had sat in perfect stillness, abandoned, except by the dust that has settled to mark the passage of time since the last day you laid eyes on it.

Your breath catches in your throat, it’s involuntary, a slight hitch, before you smooth it over. The flash of a camera, followed by the rapid click of a shutter snaps you out of it. An apologetic looking young hunter steps carefully out of the kitchen, and deferentially bows his head to you, before quickly ducking out the front door, passing under the restricted tape.

As if you can’t believe it, you check your hunter’s watch for perhaps the thirtieth or fortieth time, still, nothing. No energy fluctuations, not even a blip. As if your watch could pick up on something the association couldn’t. As if you would be standing there if they hadn’t already swept the premises for every other possible explanation.

You know you’ll have to leave. You know that Captain Jenna is waiting beyond that front door, along with at least a dozen other agents. All of them hoping for answers you don’t have. You know that you can’t stay, you know that reality is encroaching, and yet you wait, just another moment, wrapped in the stillness - not sure if you’re trapped by grief or weighed down by nostalgia, or some terrible web woven of both.

It’s a deep breath and a step back across the threshold. The sunlight you’ve braced for doesn’t blind you, and it takes a moment for you to realize that it’s because enough time has passed that the late afternoon sun that hung over you when you entered, has begun to sink below the horizon line - sun dogs chasing it in the hazy early evening heat. Your captain looms above the cadets still buzzing around the front lawn taking measurements of various kinds. You walk past them slowly, easily, with a confidence you didn’t know you had.

“Captain.” Your own voice is jarring - it sounds far firmer, steadier, calmer, than you expected. She turns to face you, a look in her eyes you haven’t seen before. Pity? No, it’s kinder than pity, but it resembles it nonetheless.

“How’re you - ?” You cut off her question with a wave of your hand. “I’m fine.” It’s a lie, you both know it’s a lie, and yet you say it anyway. How could anyone be fine at a time like this?

You see her gaze, still studying you, still worrying. It’s the same look she had earlier today when she called you to her office. You’d just come back from a mission, cheeks still flush with exertion and heat. You’d known it was serious by the way her summons was worded. Brief, formal as always, and yet somehow worried. At first you’d thought you were dreaming, or perhaps even hallucinating, or even caught in some strange metaflux. Yet as the day had unfolded it had all become real, far too real.

The house had reappeared. No one was sure of the exact moment when. They had the timestamp from the neighbors confused and panicked phone call. Hunters had arrived on scene only minutes later and secured the perimeter. No life signs inside. Not metaflux disturbances. No wanderers. Just the house, quiet, unassuming, and empty.

She’d broken the news to you matter of factly. Laid out the details as if she were giving you the information for a case. Your heart had pounded in your chest like an animal fighting at the bars of its cage - you hadn’t realized you were holding your breath until she said it. The words you were waiting for - but not the answer you wanted.

“No persons, living or deceased, were found on the premises.”

You’d felt something akin to relief hit you at the same time as the pain. You weren’t sure if it was better this way or not. You weren’t faced with a body, with another funeral, with another open grave staring up at you. But you weren’t given the answers you wanted either. Nor were you met with the smiling face you had so many questions for.

That’s how he ended up with his wrists tied to that chair, his tie loosened and his black button down opened to show his broad, heaving chest. His eye glowed a bright red as he looked up at you. “Are you sure you can handle it, Sylus?” You cooed, running your fingers through his slightly damp hair. The anticipation had him sweating excitedly. The way you stood over him, wine bottle in your hand and that devilish look in your eye had his cock straining against his slacks already. “Of course, sweetie. I can handle it..” he breathed. You bent down and pressed a soft kiss to his lips. “Good. Now tilt your head back and open that pretty mouth.”

Keeping his gaze locked on you, Sylus slowly let his head fall back and his lips parted. Your eyes darkened as you gazed at him so obedient for you. You gently tipped the bottle towards his lips and let the wine flow into his mouth. His eyes fluttered as the taste hit his tongue. You bit your lip and tilted the bottle more, pouring more liquid down his throat. His eyes became focused on the wine as he started struggling to keep up. You gripped his chin tightly, causing wine to drip down his neck and chest. “Mmm keep your eyes on me, Sylus, not the bottle.” You demanded softly. His eyes slowly moved back to your face, the black of his pupils nearly overtaking the red. You hummed in approval. “Yes…just like that.” He groaned, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he swallowed hard.

You could feel yourself getting wetter as the room filled with the sounds of his gulps and groaning. Little “hah….hah”s escaped him with every swallow. His hands tensed against his restraints as you slotted your knee between his thighs. “Cmon baby..finish it.” You ordered. Sylus groaned louder as he chugged, the wine he missed poured down his chin, staining his shirt and pants. His chest heaved as he panted. His hips bucked against your leg, trying to get any sort of friction on his aching length.

Finally the bottle was emptied and Sylus gazed dreamily at you, his hair sweaty and his mouth dropped open and panting. You smiled sweetly at him but gripped his chin tightly. “What a good boy. I’m so proud of you, Sy.” He moaned and his eyes fluttered closed at the praise. “Please….please can you…may I have a kiss, ma’am?” He panted. You grinned and plopped down on his lap. He tensed up with let out a sharp gasp as you landed purposely on his hardened length. You kissed him hard, swallowing his moans and the taste of the wine on his tongue. “You taste delicious, baby.” You teased. Sylus whined and let his head fall into the crook of your neck. “Please touch me, sweetie. I….I need you so badly.” Sylus begged. You quickly stood off his lap and gripped his hair in your hand. Tugging it back, you put your other hand on your hip and looked at him with a raised eyebrow. “Is that how you’re supposed to address me, Sylus? Are you forgetting the rules?” He grunted as you tugged his head back but his cock throbbed almost painfully in his pants. “N-no…..I’m sorry, Miss. Please…..please ma’am…could you please touch me? I promise I’ll be a good boy.” You released his hair and gently patted his face. “That’s better. I think you’ve earned a little something for being so good.”

Sylus let out a sigh of relief as you freed his hard cock from his pants. You stroked him a couple times, making him grit his teeth and tug on the restraints as he tried to stop himself from coming too soon. You knelt in front of him and pressed a gentle kiss to his tip. “You want me to suck your cock don’t you, Sy?” You teased, tapping the tip of his cock against your tongue a couple times. Sylus whined and looked down at you with pleading eyes, nodding fast. You shook your head and tsk tsked at him. “Oh Sylus, you know I need to hear you say it out loud. Now tell me what you want, baby.” Sylus’s head fell back against the chair. “Fuck…please suck my cock, miss. I want to feel your perfect mouth on my cock….please..I need it..” He begged. Satisfied with his reply, you took his tip into your mouth, swirling your tongue around it slowly. Sylus cursed loudly and his back arched off the chair. You sucked down more of him, coating his cock in your spit. Sylus had to force himself to not thrust himself into your mouth but it was taking all of his focus. You could feel him throbbing in your mouth and knew he wouldn’t last long. Stroking what you couldn’t fit into your mouth, you looked up at him with big, wet eyes. “Oh yes please keep looking up at me like that, ma’am. You look so good like this…so beautiful. Please can I cum, miss? Please let me cum…” He rasped, his voice hoarse from the grunts he failed to suppress.

You hummed a muffled “mhmm” around him and raked your nails down his torso just like he liked. That was all the permission Sylus needed. His head slammed against the back of the chair as he came down your throat. He growled out your name loudly as you swallowed every last warm drop of his seed. You swallowed hard around him, then pulled off him with a pop. You cleaned him up with soft licks and pressed gentle kisses to his tip as he came down from his high. He sighed as you untied him and quickly pulled you into his arms.