#(i hate it)

Not because he regrets proposing to you; that will be the best decision he’ll ever make in his life, with befriending you as a kid a close second. But this engagement dinner with his Ma and Pa will kill him, purely because of the horrible, wonderful, sinful, perfect white sundress you’re in. And your hair was all done up and pretty. You looked like an angel, and he couldn’t touch!

So he sat across from you at a fancy Chinese restaurant, his Pa to his left and Ma to your left, trying to conceal how utterly, horribly, terrifyingly horny he was for you.

Ma had been a mess when you both had called with the news, blubbering prayers of thanks to whatever higher power that her baby boy had finally gotten his head outta his ass and proposed to the only girl in his life. The tears had momentarily dried up when the pregnancy came up. When Pa and Ma had arrived to Metropolis, Pa smacked Clark upside the head.

“Fool.”

But bygones were bygones and the Kents were accepting people. Ma could forgive the premarital sex because of a future grandbaby and wedding. And Pa could never be angry at you, he’d known you since you were a girl attached to Clark’s hip.

Clark just really hoped his parents would forgive him for what he was about to do. You’d thrown concerned looks, and his tight smiles had never worked.

“That was delicious!” Ma and Pa enthuse out in front of the restaurant, you chatting back just as excited. Clark hailed a cab.

“Oh shoot, I left my wallet.” Clark fumbles.

You pause. “Oh, the cab can wait, go on baby-“

But it’s all Clark can do to fumble some half-baked excuse of sending Ma and Pa back to your shared apartment together and having you stay with him (“New dad Kryptonian protectiveness”), and soon you’re both scuttling back into the restaurant without Ma and Pa.

“Clark, what are you-“

Clark signals to the host. “My fiancé needs the restroom. Pregnant and all, small bladder.”

“Clark, I don’t!” You gasp, but Clark herds you to the little restroom in the back of the restaurant. Damn him and his strength.

"I need you, darling." Clark crowds you against the wall. "You look so pretty and- and I just wanna feel you, please?"

You should say no. the restroom is nice but it can't be sanitary. There's a restaurant full of people outside. Ma and Pa are surely confused and waiting back at your apartment.

But Clark had looked so good today, with his crisp buttonup and sweater vest and glasses and so much love in his eyes his pupils were hearts. So you hike your pretty white dress up around your hips and tuck your panties into his pants while Clark fumbles at his fly.

"Gonna be tight, couldn't prep you, m"sorry." Clark whispers as his dripping head presses you open. The stretch burns, but it's perfect. Your pussy flutters around his length, gummy walls pressing perfectly against him.

"Fuck- Clark, move." You should wait a bit, just until you adjust to him but you can't wait. the illicitness of the act, how filthy it was to fuck in a restroom, how desperate Clark was? Your mind was already foggy.

Clark immediately listens, bottoming out. His strong hands lift you up and your legs go around his waist as he begins to lift you up and down his length. It's too good and has you biting on his neck. The fat head of his cock drags against the spongy spots. Each thrust knocks against your cervix, just a bit. He's practically using you as a cocksleeve, dragging you up and down with little grunts. Little droplets of arousal stain his grey slacks and there's probably slick on the floor.

"More, m'close baby, c'mon fill me up." You whimper. Clark's hips pick up. He thrusts up as he drops you, getting even deeper. You muffle your scream into his neck. Your orgasm pierces through the fog of pleasure, and your Clark follows.

The comedown is too quick for Clark's liking, but he has to. He gently pulls out with a plop, a flood of cum gushing out from your soft pussy. He gets you both cleaned up enough to get you out through the back and into the air.

hate the new format

" no, uhm, my love, please⸺ let's keep the heels on, yeah? "

kento nanami is a man that's fairly vanilla. he's not entirely on the kinky side; the most that arouses him is the visuals of his tie wrapped around your neck whilst you two make love— or better yet, suck him off.

it's that, or him getting off on worshipping every crevice of your body, revelling in the beauty his wife effortlessly holds.

however, he would frequently notice that his eyes would linger a little on you when you were in heels.

he couldn't put a finger on it; it could've been anything. the resounding click that it makes when your feet make contact with the floor, the way your hips sway so smoothly when you walk, or the way the point of the heels makes you appear a tad more dominant than usual.

nanami didn't know. he couldn't have cared less—all he knew was is that he needed to fuck you in them. like, as soon as humanly possible.

so when you came home from work in the sexiest black stilettos and fuck, such inviting lace tights, the man had to put you down on the couch and was well ready to eat you off the bone.

you're slightly puzzled when he asks to keep your shoes on, questioning it as he bunches your skirt up to pull your panties down off of you. "because?" "..because you simply look good in them, is all." he'd play the faux-naïf, pretending as if this wasn't a fantasy of his about to come true. he wasn't fooling anybody, and he could tell from the smirk playing on your lips. your husband would have to hide the embarrassment, placing a light kiss to your ankle. "well," you'd coo, your voice now sugar-sweet as you place your heel under his chin to look up to you, feeling the warmth forming on his face. "we can keep them on, nanami, i don't mind."

nanami may as well have died and been reborn. as your fingers enveloped themselves in his blonde strands, he knew he married the right woman. he spend the rest of his life revering her like this, gladly. he could only mutter:

"god, i love you sweetheart."

I just want to find at least one person who feels the same way I do.

Even if a hundred or a thousand people will hate me for it, I want that one single person who understands what kind of scar this MC left on me.

---

For a long time, I couldn't quite explain why I had such a deep dislike - no, a visceral rejection - of the MC of Love and Deepspace.

It wasn’t just that I found her annoying, rude, or bland - though many users defend her as "just a cute sweetheart" or "not that bad heroine".

No. I think I genuinely hate her.

And recently, after sitting with this feeling for months, I finally figured out why.

She is an empty shell.

A hollow, perfect otome heroine who had everything handed to her by default. She has:

- A loving older adoptive brother who would literally do anything for her because he had to watch her suffer as a child and ended up traumatized (while she conveniently forgot everything - how convenient, right?).

- A serious childhood friend who possibly had feelings for her but had to hide them to avoid hurting her with his evol - and of course she’s the only one who can make him smile again

- A literal husband from the future, who time-traveled just to save her (because even time itself is on this woman’s side).

- Not one but TWO ancient creatures (a mafia boss who created and controls an entire shadowy underworld mafia just to protect her, and a literal mermaid sea god whose soul is tied to hers across lifetimes) both of whom have loved her across lifetimes and would destroy the world for her!

The love interests? Fantastic.

They’re well-designed, emotionally rich, and full of potential.

But the moment you add destiny threads, past life reincarnations, and mythic soulmate-level love, something breaks.

I stop feeling like I’m part of the story.

I don’t feel like the MC.

I don’t feel like I’m influencing or choosing anything.

I don’t feel... close.

It feels like I’m just watching someone else’s picture-perfect story - some unreasonably lucky girl - from behind a screen. And I have absolutely nothing to do with it.

I think what makes it worse is that Infoflds advertises this as otome game from first-person POV.

A dating sim for women.

Isn’t it supposed to fulfill the fantasy of being special?

Of being seen?

But all I felt after a few months of playing and watching her was:

MC is the center of the universe.

And I mean that literally.

From what I understand, the plot eventually reveals that she’s a kind of cosmic entity - a celestial being that gave birth to an entire advanced civilization on another planet. She’s the source of life itself.

Every powerful man or godlike creatures in this world exists and lives because of her.

Loves her. Worships her. Saves her.

Even the player feels like they’re supposed to worship her.

She’s the chosen one. The universe, the love interests, and the story all bend to her - and honestly? It felt like the game was screaming in my face:

"Look at her! Look at everything she has that you never will!"

Yes, I know the mythic destiny trope is just a lazy storytelling shortcut to justify why all the LIs fall so hard so fast.

But still… it hurts.

This game showed me something I didn’t expect:

That I’m a non-MC reader.

Just a side character. A background girl.

And that’s why I adore non-MC stories with a reader.

They mirror how I feel in real life - painfully, but in a cathartic beautiful way.

They say: yes, even if you’re beautiful, loyal, smart, kind - if you weren’t born the Chosen One, if you weren’t written into the myth - then you’ll never be her.

You’ll never be the one they cross time and space for.

You’ll never be the cosmic soulmate.

You’ll never be the MC.

And yes, maybe I’m just a jealous bitter bitch.

Maybe I just fell too hard for the guys and now feel like a miserable outsider.

Maybe I felt like I was being pushed out of a story that never included me to begin with.

But this post - this pain - is real.

If you’ve ever felt like the story wasn’t written for you,

If you’ve ever watched miss Hunter be worshipped and thought:

“Why not me?”

If you’ve ever craved a story where someone like you gets to be seen, wanted, and chosen:

You're not alone.

UPDATE: I never expected this to blow up. Thank you for all the support (and the chaos). I wrote a proper thank you to my fellow non-MC enthusiasts here.

Me when the new chapter ends on yet another cliffhanger