My SuperVillain System: Building Legion of SSS-Ranked SuperHeroines
Chapter 114- Birth of a Yandere

Chapter 114: Chapter 114- Birth of a Yandere

The green aura pulsed like a broken heartbeat—spasming across the ruined floor, the collapsed walls, and over their slick, tangled bodies.

It flickered wildly, bathing everything in a sickly emerald that made their sweat shine like oil.

The dome above groaned and breathed, thick with heat, ash, and sex.

Every breath was humid. Heavy. Saturated with the scent of her amidst the burning place.

Seleyena.

Feral. Untethered. Destroyed inside and trying to fuck the pain away.

Her thighs straddled his waist, shaking violently, the skin smeared with soot and streaked in dried cum—his and hers, both.

Her inner thighs still glistened, slick and glossy, coated in the mess he’d left inside her earlier.

His seed dripped slowly from both her holes, leaving lazy white trails down the back of her ass and along the curve of her slit.

It clung to her skin, sticky and gluing her folds together in places.

Her cunt looked abused—flushed and swollen, pink turned to angry red, twitching with each clench of her core.

Her asshole wasn’t any better.

Slightly open, twitching, the ring sore and raw from being stretched and filled not long ago.

She was still leaking, and she didn’t care.

She found herself amidst fire, near death, and finally realized the grief she would feel if something were to happen to him—all this pain she had would be nothing.

His absence would be more painful than this body of hers.

She looked ruined—but in pain and fear of not wanting to lose him again.

Hair matted to her cheeks, clinging to sweat-slick skin. Her lips were parted, drooling breath in short, erratic gasps.

Her eyes were wide—red-rimmed, tear-filled, glassy with something between grief and madness. They didn’t focus.

Just floated toward his face like he was the only real thing left in a world set on fire.

And she was smiling.

A soft, broken curve of lips.

Her voice cracked out in a hiccupping sob.

"Cruxius... hic... d-do y-you want me to pleasure you, huh?"

She didn’t wait for an answer.

Her hands, trembling but precise, slid down to his cock again—half-hard, which got burned once, once coated in his own fluids vaporized, but now her leaking pussy after so much grind, wetting him again.

Her fingers directly went on her own pussy as if she’d lost every shame, rubbed her own finger to take out the wet, sticky fluid out of it before gripping his cock loosely, her thumb brushing against the base, smearing her own fluid over the shaft.

As if Cruxius’ method made her realize how she could even use her own pussy’s fluid as lubricant.

Then she moved.

"Ungh..." She lifted herself, shaking thighs tensing.

His cock slipped free from between her ass cheeks which clamped with a wet, obscene sound.

A soft splat followed as her own cum slid free from her cunt and hit his shaft.

But she didn’t flinch.

Didn’t even blink.

She leaned back just a little, lifting her hips high enough to show herself—completely.

Her fingers reached between her legs, two of them spreading her puffy, soaked pussy’s folds wide apart.

"Y-you l-like going inside me...didn’t you."

It was filthy. Not the kind of filth born from lust alone, but something deeper—worse. Too raw to be beautiful, too desperate to be anything but real.

Her fingers were rough—almost cruel—as she stretched herself open, her pussy twitching from overstimulation, glistening, dripping, almost pulsing with heat.

She looked wrecked. Bare. Unhinged. And yet her other hand moved without pause, gripping his cock like it belonged to her—squeezing hard, syncing with each pounding beat of his heart.

"S-STOP, SELEYENA! CONTROL YOURSELF!" Cruxius barked, panic laced in his voice. He could feel it—that sharp spiral down into madness.

Even though the healing aura around them patched up the wounds on their bodies, it couldn’t touch what was fraying in her mind.

"Eh?" Her head tilted slightly. Her eyes caught his like a trap snapping shut.

She froze.

Then smirked—just a little. Lips trembling. Eyes glassy.

"...I forgot," she murmured, biting her lower lip till it bled. "You... hic... like the other hole, don’t you?"

Then she laughed.

A broken, breathy thing that cracked like glass underfoot—thin, sharp, ready to shred whatever touched it.

"Huh? Seleyena, snap out of it!" Cruxius lunged forward, grabbing her arms, shaking her, trying to pull her back to him—the real her.

But she didn’t care.

"W-wait... sob... just let me love you," she whispered, and her body shifted. She slid his cock down her slick cunt—dragging it, smearing that mix of sex and sorrow, until the head rested against her other hole.

Red. Swollen. Abused.

Still sore from the last time.

But her fingers didn’t falter.

She held herself open and pushed—slow, painful, her breath hitching as she forced him past that tight ring.

"Nnnhh... hic... ahhng..."

Her hands slapped against his chest for balance, fingers clutching, body trembling as she sank down inch by torturous inch.

"Seleyena, no—"

Too late.

She forced him in.

A sharp, cracked scream ripped from her throat—animalistic, raw, ripped from a place so deep it didn’t feel human.

"NNNGHH! Ahh—hic—ah!"

Her entire frame shook, buckled. Sweat rolled down her face, trailing through soot and ash, mixing with the tears. Her teeth sunk into her own lip, drawing more blood, but still she didn’t stop. She wouldn’t.

She forced herself further—gritting, groaning, choking on air.

"Stop! You’re too dry—fuck—Seleyena, you’ll tear—"

"NO!" she screamed, voice warping, breaking. "I can take it! I... I want it! hic... I want you!"

She trembled, wild and feral, but her hips kept moving. Grinding. Slow, brutal, aching movements that screamed with both desire and devastation. She was crying, sobbing, but her body refused to quit.

Her sweat soaked into the floor, steaming in the emerald glow of the healing aura that kept her from collapsing entirely—restoring stamina she shouldn’t have had, letting her keep going even when her body begged her to stop.

Her hand grabbed his, yanked it to her chest.

"You like these too, don’t you?" she hissed, voice ragged, eyes fever-bright. She forced his fingers to clutch her breasts, made him squeeze her nipples, hard—too hard.

Then she pinched one herself—twisted.

"Aaahhhnngghhh—!?"

The scream echoed—half pain, half ecstasy, all chaos.

"Pull them!" she howled. "Do it!"

Cruxius froze—just for a second.

But she didn’t let him hesitate.

She guided his hands, made him tug her nipples until her back arched, her breasts bounced violently with every thrust.

Her sobs turned rhythmic, timed to the punishing pace of her hips as she ground down on him.

"Yes—yes—like that—yes!" she cried, tears spilling, body shaking.

She slammed her hips down harder—ugly, desperate movements that weren’t meant to seduce, only to feel.

Her ass clenched around him like a vice, her breath hitched and shattered, her voice cracking in a mess of pleasure and grief.

"I love you... hic... I love you... I live for you...!"

Her nails raked down his arms, carving red lines into his skin.

She grabbed his other hand, shoved it to her other breast, made him grope her like she needed to feel his possession just to stay whole.

"You’re mine!" she wailed. "Mine! hic... m-mine..."

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