Anonymous said: “Just thinking about Gabe being all bitchy when trying to sub until Doomfist just gets fet up and grabs Gabe’s balls and gives them a nice long squeeze. Suddenly, Gabe is a lot more cooperative.”

He’s been on his better behavior the past weeks, but this time around there’s a distinct restlessness to be felt. He doesn’t want to lie still, doesn’t want to stop growling, doesn’t listen – and Akande’s only explanation for it is the new pair of eyes on him; Jesse McCree’s mouth dropped open as he stars, cheeks a dull brick red beneath his scruff.

Gabriel had been docile enough with just Widowmaker and Sombra around to watch his degradation – he had learned to accept their gazes on him; one cool and disinterested in his pained little grunts as he got deep dicked, the other very much gloating and intrigued.

The new set of eyes, however, makes him skittish like a young horse; even Akande’s rough, big hand harshly at the back of his neck doesn’t make him stop squirming, and complaining.

“Not in front of the ingrate,” he hisses, voice hoarse, ass clenching; squeezing down, trying to force the meaty cock out of the clinging passage after Akande had so much trouble cramming it in there.

McCree’s dark eyes flinch at the insult, but he wisely keeps quiet; his arms are cuffed behind his back; his jeans are tenting prominently beneath the heavy buckle of his belt.

He is more than interested in the proceedings, even standing between his two captors. Widow looks annoyed, her sharp nails drumming against the desk just centimeters from Reaper’s head. She wants to get the report over with, dump the cowboy in a cell and go do whatever she does for leisure.

“You’re not in charge here,” Akande reminds him mildly. He angles his hips forward, tries to press more into the spasming, tight ring of muscle. It does not quite work. He roughly takes Gabriel’s hands and yanks them back; places them on the generous, meaty cheeks of his fat ass.

“Spread.”

Gabriel snarls like an animal. He does not as he is told, and his eyes are fixated on McCree like he wants to rip his eyes out for looking. Akande feels like there is something going on here that he is not quite privy of – but he will find out soon enough. After he’s shown Gabriel who has the upper hand.

It is not difficult to let his hand jerk down below, fingers curling mean and harsh around the heavy, swinging sac of his testicles, but the reaction is instantaneous and gratifying: Gabriel choking on his won spit and going stock still, back arched, insides trembling.

Sombra cackles.

“Bull doesn’t like to be grabbed by the balls, hm?” she coos, but a gaze from Akande makes her shut up quickly, the gloating grin vanishing from her face. She looks away. A pack member acknowledging the leader’s dominance.

McCree is still staring, eyes glassy, pants tenting. Akande thinks he can almost see a wet patch forming in the front.

He squeezes the warm weight in his fist and pulls. Gabriel whines high and pathetic before he can tamp down on it. He goes up to the balls of his feet, then very quickly reverts, hips dipping, hunching down, trying to follow the mean pull on his heavy, plump sac.

Akande keeps pulling, dick inside the clenching hole, but not satisfied with the depth yet; there is a lot left out that he could still cram inside.

“I said spread. Or I’m gonna see what I can do to those big balls you’re so proud of.”

There’s not another peep of protest as Gabriel scrambles to grab his ass, spreading it open; making the swollen rim of his hole stretch around Akande’s cock for him to start fucking inside deeper.

“Good boy,” Akande murmurs, finally letting go of his testicles and patting his leg like he would a dog’s head.

His dark eyes lift to McCree’s vacant face, a smug smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. 

“Very well. I’ve not gotten to welcome our newest guest yet…”