The train car was a humid capsule of stale coffee and warm bodies. Izuku stood clinging to a metal pole, the floor vibrating under his thin-soled shoes. His mini-skirt was a scrap of denim, his crop top exposing a strip of pale, freckled stomach with every jolt. He felt the cool air of the ventilation directly on his bare pussy underneath.

Katsuki’s chest pressed against his back. Hard. Unyielding. A low growl vibrated into Izuku’s ear. “Feel that, baby boy?”

Izuku did. The thick, insistent ridge of Katsuki’s cock, still confined behind his jeans, ground against the cleft of his ass. Izuku’s breath hitched. His knuckles turned white on the pole.

“Daddy,” he whispered, a plea and an acknowledgment.

Katsuki’s calloused hand slid from his hip, over the front of the tiny skirt. He palmed Izuku’s mound through the denim. “Soaked already. Little slut.”

The train lurched, and Izuku staggered back into him. Katsuki’s other arm banded around his waist, holding him up, holding him in place. His fingers hooked under the skirt’s hem.

“Look at them,” Katsuki murmured, his lips against Izuku’s temple. His gaze swept the car—a dozen weary men in suits, faces buried in phones, avoiding eye contact. “Every one of ‘em. They’re gonna watch.”

Izuku’s heart hammered against his ribs. “Watch what?”

Katsuki’s finger, blunt and demanding, found his hole. He pushed past the tight ring of muscle with a single, practiced thrust. Izuku gasped, a sharp, audible sound in the rumble of the train.

“Watch me fuck my boy’s greedy cunt.” Katsuki’s voice was a dark promise. He curled his finger, a slow, deep crook. “Watch me breed you right here. Let ‘em see my seed drip out of you onto this filthy floor.”

Izuku’s head fell back against Katsuki’s shoulder. A whimper escaped his clenched teeth. His pussy clenched around the intrusion, wet and hot. He was already so ready.

Katsuki added a second finger. The stretch burned, a sweet, familiar ache. “You want that? You want all these business men to see Daddy’s wife get what he’s owed?”

“Yes,” Izuku choked out, his eyes squeezing shut. The train lights flickered overhead. He could feel stares now, prickling on his skin. “Please, Daddy.”

“Eyes open, Izu.” Katsuki’s command was iron. “Look at them. They’re your witnesses.”

Izuku forced his eyes open. A man across the aisle, mid-forties with a tired face, was staring. Their eyes met. The man looked quickly away, his cheeks flushing. Shame. Arousal. Izuku tasted it in his own throat.

Katsuki’s fingers began to move. A slow, relentless fuck. The wet sound was obscene, barely hidden by the train’s noise. “Gonna get you nice and open. Gonna make a space for me. Right here where everyone can see.”

Izuku’s thighs trembled. Pleasure coiled, low and dangerous, with every drag of Katsuki’s knuckles inside him. He was panting, small, ragged breaths. The fabric of Katsuki’s jeans was rough against his ass. The heat of him was everywhere.

“They’re gonna see you come on my fingers first,” Katsuki said, his voice guttural. “Then they’re gonna see me put a baby in you. My good boy. My wife.”

His thumb found Izuku’s clit, a rough, circling pressure. Izuku cried out. The sound was swallowed by the screech of brakes as the train slowed for a station. The doors hissed open. New passengers boarded. No one looked. Everyone saw.

Katsuki didn’t stop. His fingers worked deeper, faster. “Now, baby. Come for them.”

Izuku shattered. His orgasm ripped through him, silent but for the frantic clutch of his cunt around Katsuki’s hand and the violent shudder that racked his slight frame. White spots danced behind his eyes. Katsuki held him upright, his arm a vice, as Izuku rode it out against him, dripping down his father’s wrist.

As the wave receded, leaving him boneless and trembling, Katsuki slowly withdrew his fingers. He brought them to Izuku’s lips. Izuku, without hesitation, took them into his mouth, cleaning them with his tongue, tasting himself—salty, musky, ripe.

Katsuki’s free hand went to his own belt. The metallic *click* of the buckle was deafening. He shifted, positioning Izuku’s hips, pulling the tiny skirt up and out of the way.

The head of Katsuki’s cock, slick with pre-come, pushed between Izuku’s trembling thighs. It slid against his soaked, hairless pussy, the thick ridge rubbing directly over his swollen clit with each shift of the train.

“Look down,” Katsuki grunted into his ear, his hips beginning a slow, grinding roll. “See it, baby boy? See how you’re holding Daddy?”

Izuku looked. His own tiny cunt, bare and glistening, framed the flushed, monstrous head of Katsuki’s dick as it peeked through from behind. The visual sent a shock of shame-soaked arousal straight to his core. He whimpered.

“Anyone in front of you gets a perfect view,” Katsuki said, his voice a dark, pleased rumble. His hands gripped Izuku’s hips, guiding the rhythm. “They see your little pussy getting teased. They see what’s mine.”

The friction was maddening. The broad crown caught on his clit with every forward thrust, a rough, perfect pressure. Izuku’s head lolled back against Katsuki’s shoulder. “Daddy… it’s too much…”

“It’s not enough.” Katsuki’s pace increased, the slide between his thighs becoming wetter, louder. The sound was a lewd, sticky slap that echoed in the lull between train noises. “Gonna fuck your thighs ‘til you’re crying for it. ‘Til these suits know exactly what you are.”

Izuku’s eyes fluttered open. The man across the aisle was staring again, his phone forgotten in his lap. His mouth was slightly open. He wasn’t looking away this time.

“He sees,” Izuku breathed, the confession torn from him.

“Good.” Katsuki nipped at his earlobe. “Let him see you take it. Let him see how bad my boywife needs it.” His thrusts grew harder, faster, the thick shaft pistoning between Izuku’s clenched thighs, battering his sensitive flesh. Pre-come and Izuku’s own wetness made a hot, slick mess.

Izuku’s moans came in short, punched-out gasps. His knuckles were bone-white on the pole. The pleasure built, a coiling, relentless spring. “I’m gonna… Daddy, I’m gonna come again…”

“Do it.” The command was a hot breath against his neck. “Come on my cock while I fuck your pretty thighs. Show them all.”

The orgasm hit him like a tidal wave, a deep, gushing release that had nothing to do with shattering and everything to do with flooding. His cunt clenched, then spasmed open, and a hot rush of liquid pulsed out, not just wetness but a hard, visible jet that splashed against Katsuki’s driving cock and beyond.

It hit the watcher’s thigh, a sudden stripe of heat.

Izuku sobbed, a raw, broken sound, his body convulsing through the relentless squeeze and spill. Katsuki’s grip was the only thing keeping him from collapsing, his own muscles turned to liquid by the force of his squirting.

As the tremors subsided, Katsuki stilled. He pulled his cock back, the tip now gleaming and poised at Izuku’s dripping entrance. The air left Izuku’s lungs.

“Spread,” Katsuki growled, his hands moving from Izuku’s hips to the inside of his trembling thighs. “Wider. Show him what he’s looking at.”

Izuku’s breath hitched, but he obeyed, letting his knees fall apart until the cool, indifferent air of the train car hit his most intimate skin. His own hands shook as he reached down, fingers slipping in his wetness, and hooked into the swollen, puffy lips of his cunt, pulling himself open. The exposure was a lightning bolt of shame. “Daddy…”

“There.” Katsuki’s voice was thick with approval. He adjusted his stance, the thick crown of his cock nudging insistently at the fluttering, soaked entrance now obscenely displayed. “He sees it all now, baby boy. He sees your hungry little hole begging for me.”

The man across the aisle made a soft, choked sound. He was leaning forward, his eyes wide and fixed, his own hand subtly moving in his lap.

“Now you take it,” Katsuki commanded, and he pushed forward.

The breach was monumental. Izuku cried out, a sharp, ragged sound, as the broad, unforgiving head stretched him open. The stretch burned, a familiar, brutal fullness that stole the air from his lungs. Katsuki didn’t stop, feeding inch after thick inch into the clenching, dripping heat, a slow, deliberate invasion witnessed by a stranger’s hungry gaze.

“Look at him,” Katsuki grunted, his hips flush against Izuku’s ass, buried to the hilt. “Look at his face while I fill you up.”

Tears welled in Izuku’s eyes. He forced them to focus. The man’s mouth was slack, his breathing visibly quickened. He was staring directly at where Katsuki was sheathed inside him, at the stretched, glistening ring of muscle trying to accommodate the girth.

“He’s hard for you, Izu,” Katsuki whispered, a dark, possessive thrill in his tone. He drew back and slammed home, making Izuku’s body jolt. “He’s jerking his dick watching Daddy fuck his boywife’s cunt. You like that?”

“I—I don’t know,” Izuku whimpered, the confession torn from him. His own arousal was a vicious, contradicting flood, his pussy clamping down greedily around the pounding intrusion.

“You do.” Katsuki set a brutal, driving rhythm, each thrust punching a wet sound from Izuku’s core. “Your filthy little body likes it. Feel it. He’s watching me breed you.”

The train swayed, matching the savage tempo. Izuku’s held-open thighs ached. His fingers were slick, struggling to keep his ruined flesh on display. With every deep plunge, he could see the man’s eyes darken, could see the frantic motion in his lap. It was the most degrading, most arousing thing he’d ever known.

Katsuki’s arms hooked under Izuku’s thighs, and he lifted him as if he weighed nothing, taking two staggering steps with the train’s motion until Izuku’s spread, dripping cunt was suspended inches from the watching man’s face.

“Here,” Katsuki grunted, hefting Izuku’s weight easily, his own hips never stilling. “Get a better look, you fuckin’ creep.”

The man recoiled, his back hitting the seat, eyes wide with shock and a hunger he couldn’t hide. The thick, salty scent of sex and sweat filled the air between them.

Katsuki slammed back into Izuku’s tight heat, the wet slap of flesh echoing in the enclosed space. Each deep, brutal thrust jolted Izuku forward, making his exposed pussy flutter obscenely close to the stranger’s mouth. Drops of clear slick flicked from his stretched entrance, landing on the man’s slack jaw and pressed slacks.

“See that?” Katsuki growled, his voice raw. “See how his hole sucks me back in? That’s my boywife’s cunt. Built for my cock. Made for breeding.”

Izuku sobbed, his hands flying to Katsuki’s forearms for balance, his head thrown back. The exposure was absolute. He could feel the man’s panicked, hot breath against his most intimate flesh.

“You wanna touch?” Katsuki taunted the man, his pace becoming punishing. “You wanna stick your fingers in where I’m fucking? Bet you do. Bet you’re imagining it’s your dick.”

The man made a strangled noise, his hand moving frantically in his lap, his gaze glued to the mesmerizing, violent union of their bodies.

“Daddy, please,” Izuku whimpered, the plea meaningless, his body arching into each thrust.

“He loves it,” Katsuki snarled, not to Izuku, but to the watcher. “Look at his face. He’s crying, but that pretty pussy is milking me like a goddamn vise. You see how wet he is? That’s for me. All for me.”

Another hard drive of Katsuki’s hips sent a fresh spatter of fluid onto the man’s white shirt. The man flinched but didn’t pull away, his own breathing ragged.

“Gonna pump him so full of cum it leaks out,” Katsuki promised, the words a dark, possessive chant. “Gonna plant my kid so deep in this boywhore that everyone knows who he belongs to. You’re just getting a front-row seat to the main event.”

Izuku’s climax began to coil again, a terrifying inevitability pulled from the depths of his shame. The audience, the crude narration, the brutal fullness—it fused into a single, white-hot point of pleasure. “I’m… I’m gonna…”

“Do it,” Katsuki commanded, his voice cracking with his own strain. “Soak this bastard’s face. Let him taste what he can’t have.”

The man’s eyes shot to Katsuki’s, panicked and questioning.

“You heard me,” Katsuki grunted, pistoning his hips, making Izuku’s suspended body jolt. “That pretty cunny’s about to drown you. Clamp your mouth over it or wear it.”

A violent tremble wracked Izuku. “No, Daddy, please, he can’t—”

“He can.” Katsuki’s voice left no room. The man, his face pale but his eyes dark with a sick fascination, hesitated for only a second before he leaned forward, his hands coming up to grip Izuku’s shaking thighs, and sealed his mouth over Izuku’s dripping, stretched-open pussy.

The contact was electric, obscene. A strangled scream tore from Izuku’s throat. The man’s mouth was hot, wet, and wrong—a stranger’s lips and tongue pressed directly against his most sensitive, abused flesh while his father’s cock hammered into him from behind. The dual sensation shattered him.

“That’s it,” Katsuki snarled, his pace turning feral. “Suck on my boy’s cunt. Taste how good I make him.”

Izuku’s orgasm exploded, a white-hot detonation of shame and pleasure. He convulsed, a raw, continuous scream ripping from his lungs as he squirted, a hot, copious flood directly into the waiting, sucking mouth beneath him.

The man gulped, choked, but didn’t pull away, his fingers digging bruises into Izuku’s thighs as he swallowed what Izuku’s body violently gave up.

Katsuki roared, his own control snapping. He buried himself to the root, his hips stuttering as he pumped his release deep into Izuku’s clenching channel, painting his insides with hot, claiming stripes of cum. He held there, grinding, as Izuku’s body milked him through the last pulses.

The train’s brakes hissed. The announcement for the next station crackled overhead.

Katsuki pulled out, his spent cock slick and glistening. Izuku’s own release and his father’s seed immediately began to leak from his gaping, used hole, dripping down onto the man’s chin and soiled shirt. The man finally fell back, sputtering, wiping his mouth with the back of a trembling hand.

“Get out,” Katsuki said, his voice low and spent but no less commanding. He lowered Izuku’s boneless body, holding him upright against his chest. “This is your stop. Forget the face. Remember the cunt.”

The man scrambled up, fumbling for his briefcase, and stumbled toward the opening doors without a backward glance, his suit pants stained and reeking.

The doors slid shut. The train car was empty save for them. The only sounds were the rumble of the tracks and Izuku’s ragged, hitching sobs.

Katsuki turned them, leaning back against the cool metal pole, cradling Izuku against him. One broad hand splayed possessively over Izuku’s lower belly, pressing through the thin crop top. “Deep,” he murmured, his lips against Izuku’s temple. “Pumped it so deep into you, baby boy. You feel it?”

Izuku could only nod, a weak, shuddering movement. He felt hollowed out and impossibly full, his body throbbing, his cunt aching and leaking down his thighs. The stranger’s saliva was still a cold, evaporating patch on his sensitive skin.

“Gonna take,” Katsuki whispered, the words a dark promise. “All that seed, Izu? It’s gonna catch. You’ll be swellin’ up with my kid right here, where that fuckin’ nobody watched me put it in you.”

He shifted his hand, dipping his fingertips into the waistband of Izuku’s skirt, tracing the sticky, oversensitive skin of his pubic mound. “My pregnant little boywife. Everyone’s gonna know.”