The dirty words he spoke made your stomach clench, sending a wave of arousal through you that instantly soaked your panties. You opened your mouth and wrapped your lips around the tip, savoring the salty taste of precum and the smooth texture of his skin.
"Oh, fuck, yes." Mirio growled, placing a hand on the back of your neck, his fingers tangling in your hair. "Take it all, though. I want to see you gag on my cock."
You moaned around his cock, the vibration making him shudder. Then, with a deep breath, you began to descend, inch by inch, until you felt the tip brush your throat. You stopped, your eyes watering from the effort, before slowly ascending again, leaving a trail of shiny saliva on his throbbing shaft.
"More…fuuuck...go deeper." He growled. "I want to feel it in your throat."
You gasped, your heart pounding. The risk of being caught, the feeling of that enormous cock filling your mouth, Mirio's vulgar words, all mixed together in a whirlwind of excitement that made your head spin. You leaned in again, this time more firmly, taking as much of him as you could into your mouth before pushing further, past the point where you could breathe, past the point where you could think.
Your throat tightened around the tip, and Mirio cursed, his fingers tightening in your hair.
"Like this, exactly like this."
Then, without warning, he grabbed your head and pushed you down, forcing you to take him all the way.
Your throat gurgled and tightened around his cock, tears still falling from the effort. Your nostrils flared as you struggled for air, your hands gripping Mirio's thighs, your nails digging into the fabric of his pants.
"Oh, God, yes…" He exclaimed, his hips starting to move, pushing his cock deeper and deeper into your throat. "You're so good, Tara-sensei. So good at sucking my cock."
The words were muffled, filtered by the roar of blood in your ears, the wet sound of your retching as you tried to adjust to that invasion. But you didn't want to stop. You wanted this. You wanted to feel used, desired...alive.
Mirio began to move with more force, his hips moving faster with each thrust, his cock sliding in and out of your throat with a relentless rhythm. You felt saliva dripping from the corners of your mouth, dripping onto his cock, onto your hand, onto the table. It was a mess, but you didn't care. The only thing that mattered was the way Mirio panted, the muscles in his thighs tensing every time you touched him, the way his cock throbbed, ever closer to orgasm.
"Oh, mommy, I'm about to cum" he growled, his voice strained. "Do you want it in your mouth? Do you want to feel it slide down your throat?"
You moaned in response, your eyes closing for a moment as you nodded as hard as you could with your mouth full.
"Then here. Take it all." He ordered, and with one final, violent thrust, he buried it in your throat as his orgasm overwhelmed you.
You felt the first hot spurt hit your throat, full and salty, and instinctively you swallowed, your fingers tightening on Mirio's thighs as he continued to cum, his cock throbbing against your tongue. It was too much, but you didn't want to lose even a drop. You wanted it all.
When Mirio finally withdrew, you remained there, gasping, saliva and cum dripping from your chin, your eyes red and shining. You ran the back of your hand over your lips, looking at Mirio with a mixture of satisfaction and unsated desire.
He watched you, his breathing still labored and his eyes shining with pleasure. "Get up," he said, his voice hoarse. With one swift movement and without further delay, he grabbed your hips and lifted you up, making you sit astride his lap. You gasped when you felt his cock, still hard despite his orgasm, pressing against your pussy through the fabric of your panties. You were soaked, your pussy swollen and your clit thick. Mirio pushed your panties aside with a finger, your juices dripping onto his hand.
"Ooooh, sensei…but…" He looked up at you. He smiled. "But is it for me, sensei?"
You nodded, placing your hands on his shoulders. "Yes. All for you."
Mirio wasted no time. With a decisive movement, he lifted you slightly and positioned the tip of his cock against your entrance. Then, slowly, he began to lower you, as you opened up around him, tight and wet, your inner muscles contracting around his enormous cock.
"Holy shit…" You hissed, your head falling back as you took him all the way. It was too much. It was perfect. You felt full, stretched, possessed in an absurd way.
"Mirio…"
"Move…" He ordered, his hands on your belly. "Show me how you ride me."
You began to move on top of him in a slow, sensual rhythm, your hips swaying back and forth as his cock slid in and out of you. Every time you took him all the way, you felt his tip brush against that sensitive spot inside you, a shiver running down your spine.
"Yes, yes, go… Uuh, stay… don't worry, sensei. I'll take care of you… and your baby. Don't worry."
You increased your pace, your breasts bouncing with every movement, your breathing becoming more and more labored. "You're perfect…" He said. The walls of that library seemed to close in around you, the silence broken only by your beautiful moans and Mirio's raspy breathing. It was all so forbidden, so exciting, that you felt your orgasm approaching with overwhelming force.
"Mirio, I'm about to..." You couldn't finish the sentence. A wave of pleasure erupted inside you, starting from the center of your body and surging outward. Your legs trembled and your fingers gripped his shoulders, as if it were the only thing keeping you anchored to reality.
"Yes, cum for me…" he said, his hips lifting to meet yours and pushing it deeper and deeper. His cock thrust into you with increasingly violent thrusts. "I want to feel you cum all over me. Please, mommy...cum on me..."
And you did. With a strangled cry, your body contracted around him, the muscles inside your pussy squeezing his cock in rhythmic waves as pleasure wracked you. You felt the heat spread inside you, your pussy contracted, and then... you came. It wasn't just an orgasm, but something more intense. You felt a hot jet of juice erupt from you, soaking his cock, his pants, the floor beneath you.
"Sensei, yes....Jesus, I'm cumming too…" Mirio panted, his eyes glued to the spot where you were joined, where his cock was sliding in and out of you, slick with your juices and his cum. "You're…"
He was about to say something when you collapsed against his chest, only your belly separating you, as he flooded your pussy. Your body was still shaking with small post-orgasmic tremors, your breath burning in your throat. Mirio pulled you close, one hand stroking your sweaty hair, the other caressing your belly as if trying to calm you down.
For a long moment, you remained like that, wrapped in the calm silence of the library, his cock still throbbing inside you, half-hard. Then, he slowly withdrew, and you felt your juices and his cum dripping down your thighs, sticky and hot.
"Oh, damn…" you muttered, your voice shaking. "I've never…" Mirio lifted your chin with a finger, forcing you to look at him. His eyes were so sweet, devoid of the predatory hunger they had before, but still aroused. "You've never what?"
You smiled. "I've never done anything so…crazy. It was really intense."
He laughed as he got dressed. "Well, I hope it's not the last time." His cock was visibly hard under the fabric, and he offered a hand to help you up. You straightened your back as much as you could, feeling your juices dripping down your thighs as you adjusted your skirt. You were a mess. Your hair was messy, your lips were swollen and red, but you didn't care.
Mirio approached you with a cheerful expression, narrowing his eyes. "How about… an aperitif tonight?" he asked. "I'd like to… talk to you a bit and… who knows… maybe get to know each other better." He put a hand behind his neck, slightly embarrassed.
You laughed. "Sure, I'd love that. Very much."
And as you walked toward the exit, hand in hand, the secret of that forbidden moment burned between you, a bond that would unite you forever.
***
It was nine-thirty in the evening when Mirio texted you that he was downstairs, waiting. You had gotten ready with almost ritualistic care, as if every gesture had its own weight, and the result was surprising: you looked stunning, as always. The black and white striped dress flowed lightly along your body, loose enough not to be tight at the waist, and your comfortable shoes matched perfectly with your bag, chosen with that effortless elegance that had always been your trademark.
By now you were eight months pregnant. The symptoms, fortunately, had almost disappeared, leaving you with only a little back pain and occasional nervousness.
You walked through the front door and immediately spotted him: Mirio was there, outside his car, leaning against the door, with that casual air that came naturally to him. He was wearing youthful clothes, perfectly in keeping with his lively temperament. As soon as he saw you, he stepped out of the car and came toward you with a smile, greeting you and offering you his hand to help you cross the street.
Shortly afterward, you reached a charming little place not far from your house. You'd never been there before, and it was almost a shame to discover it only that evening, because it immediately struck you. The interior was lit by dozens of scented candles scattered throughout, diffusing a warm glow and a subtle aroma of vanilla and sweet wood. The waiters, almost all men, moved discreetly between the tables, and a soothing quiet hung in the air, as if time had decided to slow down.
Mirio helped you sit on a soft sofa next to a large mirror framed in light wood, then sat down next to you, with that smile that seemed to say more than a thousand words.
"Have you seen how cute this place is?"
You looked at it, amused. "Yes, indeed! It's very… welcoming."
He nodded slowly, letting his gaze wander for a moment amid the dim lights of the room, then returned to you. First he lingered on your mouth, then on your eyes, clear and blue, and he looked at you as if he'd never seen them before. You were sitting next to him, so close that a slight movement was enough for your shoulders to touch. Then he moved closer, put an arm around your waist, and gently pulled you to him.
You smiled, that smile that said it all without words.
"So, tell me a little about yourself... Who are you? How did you become a teacher? And Shimura...mmm this surname reminds me of a lot of things. "
You burst into a heartfelt laugh, shrugging. "Look, if I had to tell you my entire resume, we'd never finish! I'll just tell you that, when I was younger, I was the best in my school. Nana Shimura was my aunt. Unfortunately, she died when I was very young... And yes, I'm also related to that famous Shigaraki Tomura..."
Your eyes lit up for a moment, as if that memory still belonged to you. "But unlike him, I've always been a kind and honest pro hero, and my dream, from the beginning, has been to teach. My Quirk is based on defense: I create invisible layers in the air, which I can move at will based on precise coordinates. It allows me to protect myself with ease, control my breathing—because without concentration, nothing would work—and create perfect escape routes, should things go wrong."
His gaze remained on you, attentive, almost absorbed. In that moment, you realized how rare it was to find someone willing to truly listen, not just out of politeness, but out of genuine interest. It seemed almost unbelievable.
"Okay," he said finally, with a half-smile, "I don't really understand how your Quirk works... but maybe, one day, you'll show me."
You laughed softly. "Sure! And what about you? Tell me a little about yourself, please."
He nodded, then—without warning—he stood up. His voice filled the room, clear and confident, as if he wanted to capture everyone's attention. And he succeeded.
The gazes turned toward him, surprised, intrigued. You too remained still, unsure whether to laugh or hide behind the menu. The children at the nearby tables stopped eating and turned, enthralled, as Mirio enthusiastically explained how he had been a Pro Hero for five years, that he had accomplished extraordinary feats and saved countless people. With a lively smile, he explained that his hero name was Lemillion, that he was 28 years old, and that what he loved most was hearing children cheer for him. Then, with theatrical gestures and irresistible mimicry, he told of the time he'd saved a group of passengers from a plane crash. Every word was accompanied by exaggerated grimaces, tongue sticking out, and sudden changes in voice. The laughter erupted in a contagious chorus: the children were laughing out loud, the parents were smiling in amusement… and you, watching him, couldn't look away.
You looked at him, shocked but amused, as you clapped along with the others. Mirio, beaming, returned to his seat next to you, satisfied and with that bright smile that could infect anyone. But, just as the buzz of the place filled the air again, your gaze slipped past him, toward the large window that looked out onto the outside.
And there, in an instant, the world seemed to stop.
Your stomach tightened, the blood rushed to your head, and a barely whispered "Oh, no..." escaped your lips as you instinctively lowered your gaze.
It was only a moment, but it was enough: you had seen Katsuki—the father of your child—walking hand in hand with the girl he had cheated on you with.
"What's up, Tara? Are you feeling okay?" Mirio asked, noticing the sudden change in your expression. His voice had a sincere, almost anxious tone.
"Look," you simply murmured.
He frowned. "What should I look at, sensei?"
"If you turn around, you'll find out for yourself."
He turned slowly, scanning the tables and the dim lights of the place, until his gaze landed on Katsuki Bakugo. He recognized him instantly.
"Oh, no..." he murmured, running a hand over his neck, visibly uncomfortable. Then he looked back at you, his expression soft and caring. "Do you want to go somewhere else?"
You shook your head silently, then leaned a little closer to Mirio, seeking refuge in his calm, reassuring presence.
But Katsuki had already seen you—even before he'd crossed the threshold of the bar.
For a moment that seemed endless, your eyes met through the glass. There was no hint of surprise or mirth in his eyes: just that tense, impenetrable expression you knew all too well. He was watching you, his gaze cutting like a sharpened katana.