She couldn't help but admire the beautiful image, Looking over the Japanese buildings. The snow fell lightly around her as she looked at the world through her scope, like everything was frozen in time. Literally. It was a rare silence that she got to enjoy on solo missions. But she knew that the silence would be broken soon enough, either by completing the mission. Or by cocky laughter and giggles generating from that obnoxious brit, Tracer. Though she doubted it. The woman was assumed to be beta by most everyone, but Widow had been closer to the woman than any of the others on Talons team. In Fact it was in a tackle that her scent smelt like a mixture of oranges and chocolate, and it was heavenly. She wished she could have basked in that scent. That moment it was clear, Tracer was an omega, she just did a very good job at hiding it.
The target was just a small member of the Shimada Clan. a relatively short man with blonde short hair with the tips painted blue. He had a scar going down his left cheekbone to his chin. Said target was a smuggler for Talon, until he had decided his interests weren't with talon and went to the Shimada's. That was his last mistake. Once you are in talon, the only way out is death. After all, it's sloppy leaving loose ends about.
She waited, as the man made it out to his car, swinging his key chain in a figure eight. One shot, one kill. She never missed. His blood stained the innocent looking white snow, obvious signs of his demise. Another clean kill.
Her mind drifted back to Tracer. She had been a thorn in her side many time’s, and god was she annoying. Delaying and ruining missions, making snarky comments about her obviously looking at something. She had eyes, and used them. Why was that in question? But recently, the comments have been about her getup.
“Why are you wearing only tights? Isn’t that uncomfortable? Or do they have a soft inside?”
Tracer zipped up behind Widowmaker once again.
“Why do you care.” quickly she whipped her rifle around and shot at the perky woman.
“ you might be rather comfortable taking the suit off…” There was a real intent behind those words that silently sent chills creeping up her spine. She could feel her arousal pool in at her lower abdomen, and the tight suit was going to become tighter if she didn't stop this.
“We are fighting Cherie, that is not going to happen.” She spat, not wanting to indulge in the omegas games. But the scent was overpowering, and she was starting to lose control of the situation, though she would never admit it.
“Not like you are going to land a hit anytime soon with that uneven breathing!” that was it, she struck a nerve. And just like that, Widow grappled away and ran, only looking back once to see Tracer with what she could only guess is a look of regret. Widow didn't care if she had a boner now, she was not going to give into a game. If she wanted it. She would need to be straightforward. No insulting games.
She remembered that like it was only minutes ago, only now she had FULL control. And her only arousal was in her clit. Enough to make her blood hotter than normal, but not enough to make her get hard. Just a light pange here and there.
She left to head back to Talon headquarters, but was stopped as she was about to board the ship sent for her.
“ Widow, you're going to your next mission immediately. An undercover agent in the government has come out to the press about supporting Overwatch, and we found evidence that he is a double agent. Eliminate him, then page us once you get out of the country. We will not be able to pick you up once the job is done. They will lock down immediately. Here is your pack to ensure you can last a week on your own while everything blows over. Be careful, and don't hesitate to kill anyone who gets in your way.
You will be landing in kings row, only a few miles away from his living quarters.”
“Why are you always the one to tell me I’m working double shifts Reaper.”
“Being the barer of bad news just comes easily i guess.”
“Thank you for the supplies. Did you get me what I asked for the next time I traveled to kings row?”
“Yep, but don't be reckless. Use one of the safe houses without surveillance near it.”
“I’m no Idiot, shall we be off then?”
The two traveled in their comfortable silence. They had an unspoken friendship, if one could call it that. They did each other favors, respected each other, and vented to one another about the shit talon had them do. It was Reaper who got them to stop reprogramming her. Saying it was “beating a dead horse with a stick, and a waste of resources.” That's where widow offered to pay him back with a favor. And it just became common place for the two of them.
“We are here...good luck out there.”
“Merci.” and like that. She was off.
Finally she found a new perch point to look down at her targets home. she was on top of a skyscraper so nobody could see her, she would need to wait until the sun was fully down and the moon was up. The city shone bright with light, it was rather hard to find a dark enough spot that she won't be found out in. The cold air licked at her exposed skin but did nothing to make her cold. The cold never fazed her. In Fact it was just normal for her. When the sun was on her skin, she felt uncomfortable.
unfortunately, it was windy so it would take a few seconds to match the bullet to it's target. Otherwise she would miss and alert them. After setting up, she grabbed her water bottle and drank with her legs draped over the edge. Everyone moved about in a hurry, as if time was fleeting, and would push each other about. There destination must have been more important than the last person. She scoffed at how anyone would ever live in such dense areas. No privacy, no space, it was hard to even imagine herself in there shoes. After a moment she looked back to the apartment the double agent lived in. it was bigger than your average family home, and he was the only one who lived there. A waste of space.
The flicker of a blue light upon the building next to her caught her attention. Of course, this would be tracer, always coming into the field to cause trouble as per the usual. She readied her weapon as she stood up, looking the woman down. She was simply walking at a casual pace, looking at nothing in particular. Did she even know she stumbled upon her sniper’s nest? No, she was lost both in mind and in form. She was wearing casual blue jeans, with a grey band tee-shirt under her open bomber jacket. Her chest piece was thick under her shirt, gently illuminating the front of her chest and reflecting light off of Tracers slim form and freckled face.
“Stop. why are you here?” Widow was rather shocked to see the girl wasn’t reaching for her pistols, then again, she wasn’t wearing them either.
“Looking for you luv. Figured with a big guy running around, they would send their top sniper. I was hoping to talk to you.”
“You want to have a talk with a Talon agent?”
“I want to talk to the woman standing in front of me, I don't care about Talon. Their just a bunch of overglorified ass hats.”
“I am here to work, not banter. Please leave.”
“Fine we don't have to talk.” said Tracer with a sly grin.
Widowmaker, not to happy with the distraction, returns to her post. The brit was not a threat to the mission. But suddenly, she sat down next to the assassin. Not a foot away from her. Her scent was covered in some chemical, which could only mean one thing. Tracer was in heat, and trying suppressants. The lost expression on her face suddenly made more sense, and Widow felt a pang of heat make a wave through her abdomen and landing at her crotch. Choosing to ignore her impending embarrassment, she looked away from the woman and at her targets home. The lights were still off, which means she is stuck here, with an omega, who will soon loose the effects of suppressants.
“How long ago did you take your pill?”
“Five hours ago, I got a few minutes before I take the next. Funny, I knew you found out about my being an Omega. Back when I tackled you?” Lena was half lidded, and had a faint smile. Her control was slipping, and now it was effecting widow. She had an erection now straining against her suit. Very uncomfortably, and it was very obvious that she was squirming. Wanting to be released from that prison.
“You should take that off before you rip it off.” Lena was giggling at how her cock strained.
Widow couldn't speak. She was focusing on anything to distract herself. The lights were the most obvious thing to distract her.
“Widow, you are going to have a bruise, seriously, take it off, i will leave if you want.”
“Non, you will stay…” she turned to the omega whose heat has just barely a cover of chemical.
Widowmaker was blushing, and struggling to not pant, to not take in all of the brit's scent. Her words were barely heard.
“Please stay. Cherie.”