Overwatch: Atonement, ch.1

Author's Note: Just finished writing most of this in one sitting. Definitely wanna do more OW stuff in the future.

P.S. "Analwatch" was taken.

P.S.S. Edited "D.va" to "D. va" to kill the hyperlinks. Looks shitty but not AS shitty.

[story] [comedy] [futax4] [ass worship] [rimming] [hotdogging] [anal] [oral] [latex] [frotting] [thighfucking] [voyeurism] [masturbation] [Mt. Dew]

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A line of grappling cable snapped out of Widowmaker’s suit, hooking into a far building and allowing the assassin to shoot herself up along its length, curling her weight as she did so that she could loop around it, briefly obscuring herself from sight. Clinging to the brick like the arachnid she’d taken as her namesake, she let out a soft breath and climbed up to the ledge with a light, nimble leap. She scanned the area and the battle below for allies, seeing none immediately.

The fight had not been going well; the payload was almost through and she hadn’t seen a friendly face in far too long. Reaper, in his way, appeared to have simply aborted the mission when it went south, vanishing into a cloud of blackness and slithering out from beneath Reinhardt’s descending hammer. As far as Amèlie could tell, he’d abandoned the fight entirely.

Fixing her goggles into place, Widowmaker crept into a laying position atop the darkened rooftop, looking through the scope of her rifle at the fray below, though it was no longer much of a fray. Junkrat -- the idiot -- had walked straight into a turret, and the passcodes that the opposing team were attempting to shuttle had nearly made it to their destination. There’d be no way to change the course of the battle without serious help. “Sombra?” she hissed into her commlink. “Sombra, are you there?”

Like she was folding out of the ether itself, the hacker girl appeared next to the sniper in a flash of pixels, eliciting a hissed “Merde!”

“You called, señora?” the dusky-skinned outlaw said with a smirk, arms folded playfully across her arms as she reveled in the moment of brief shock normally so hard to get out of the icy, stolid Widowmaker.

Widowmaker flicked her goggles back up, shooting a cold, yellow-eyed stare at the other woman before looking back down the sights of her scope. “The payload’s left my field of vision. Is there a way you can force them out of that tunnel?”

“Si, most likely, if I tried,” Sombra said softly, her voice getting a little more serious now. “Unfortunately for you, I’m not going to. We’re on the losing side... or to be precise, you are.”

Amèlie blinked, glancing back towards the other woman. “What do you--”

Before she could finish, Sombra had touched her finger to the commlink in her ear, leaning into it. “Overwatch, I’ve got her. Forwarding coordinates to your HUD.”

“You betray your allegiances?” Widowmaker whispered, quickly rolling onto her back and curling the rifle with her, immediately pivoting its focus onto the hacker. She didn’t need to wait for an explanation -- all she needed was that smug, all-too-familiar smile on Sombra’s face to pull the trigger.

The bullet zipped harmlessly through another blur of pixels as Sombra blinked away, appearing back beneath the sniper with her own pistol drawn and pointed. “What allegiances?” She wasn’t the only blur, however, as another, more familiar one flashed past, having raced up the side of the building where Widowmaker had laid in wait. That blur slowed, then came to a halt, fading from pale blue to a striking yellow -- the snug bodysuit of the Overwatch agent, Tracer.

“End of the line, luv,” Tracer said, her own sidearm drawn and pointed. “Reaper’s gone. You’ve lost. Gotta know when to throw in the towel.”

Tracer was the last person Widowmaker wanted to see here. Not that she specifically disliked the British agent or considered her to be a threat -- she’d beaten Tracer before -- but because of this feeling, just now. This conflicted sensation where it was hard to tell how she actually felt at all. It went against her training, and... weakened her.

But it didn’t have to. “Lost...?” Widowmaker said, narrowing her eyes and shifting her footing very slightly. Yes, Sombra was behind her, but the girl wasn’t as fast as she was. She could dodge Sombra’s aim before a trigger was pulled. Train her weapon on Tracer, ricochet a round -- let her dodge it, then force the agent to protect Sombra from the rebound. It would give her time to escape. Maybe not win, but escape.

“S’right luv. Hate to break it to ya. But you’re outnumbered.”

“By one. And one of you is Sombra.”

“Hey, I--!”

“Not just one, mate,” Tracer lowered her weapon slightly, whistling -- and bringing into attention the soft hum that had been escalating in the background for some time, beneath Amèlie’s notice. Narrowing her eyes, Widowmaker glanced to her side, to the source of the growing sound, to see an enormous pink armored MEKA unit, within which was the almost maniacally grinning face of the former gamer, D. va. “Cavalry’s ‘ere.”

There was a long moment of silence and hesitation then as Widowmaker weighed her options. Flanked from three angles and with nobody on her side, the battle was truly over. “Very well. Do what you will,” she relented, very slowly extending her rifle and lowering it to the ground beneath her.

The mecha landed on the rooftop with a heavy clunk, the front hatch hissing open to allow the exit of the Korean gamer, twirling a sidearm around one finger. “This her?” D. va said, smirking, leaning in close to examine Widowmaker as if looking for imperfections. “Sorry about your bad luck, I’m sure you had us against the ropes.” Backing away slightly, she winked and silently mouthed “git gud” at the cornered sniper.

“So what do we do with you?” Tracer mused, popping one hip to the side cutely and touching one finger to her chin in thought. “Talon will have you broken out of a normal prison within the hour.”

“I suppose nerfing is out of the question?” D. va said, her tongue sticking out of the corner of her mouth as she closed one eye, aiming her sidearm at the defenseless Widowmaker.

“While she’s unarmed?” Tracer said. “No. That’s... no.”

“What do you want to do with her?” Sombra purred, her voice suddenly becoming more suggestive than its usual playful tone. She leaned in closer to Widowmaker from behind, taking gentle hold of her shoulder. “Rumor has it there’s quite a lot of tension between the two of you, si? Maybe you’re having a hard time keeping your mind wandering, to this...” she lightly trailed her fingertips down the open front of Widowmaker’s skintight violet bodysuit, causing shivers along the creamy blue skin between the assassin’s beautiful breasts. “Or... maybe this...?” Pivoting her hand on the French sniper’s back, Sombra turned Amèlie around, looking over her shoulder as she showed off the mouth-wateringly plump, yet firm display of backside. Her other hand drifted back down, feeling Widow tense as she took a handful of one buttcheek and gave it a firm squeeze, the fabric-covered flesh squishing around her fingers while keeping its form.

Lena Oxton, the Overwatch agent known as Tracer, swallowed hard as she watched the unexpected proffer of Widowmaker’s flesh. She’d tried to keep those rumors from spreading, but when Genji had first spotted the way she paused at Widowmaker when flipping through profiles, they’d done so anyway... and they were true. There was an attraction there that she’d been trying to quell ever since she met the assassin. But... now, there she was, perhaps her most remarkable asset on display, and the way Amèlie slightly spread her legs seemed to almost... seemed to almost invite it....

“Bloody ‘ell,” Tracer breathed, licking her lips slightly, her goggled eyes focused on that rear in all of its majesty. The things she’d considered doing to it, and... the things she wanted to do... but she couldn’t. She was a hero. She had morals. Unless Widow wanted it...?

As if in a trance, Lena drew near, slipping her pistol into its holster and dropping to her knees, gazing up at that butt now, her eyes conflicted yet worshipful. Every little curve seemed to draw her in, so snugly-wrapped that its violet coating even hugged to the crevice between those flawless globes. Breathing getting heavier, Tracer leaned in more, finally pressing her cheek against one of Widow’s, feeling it squish inward against the light pressure of her face. Springy, yet firm. Divine.

“Nn...” Amèlie murmured, almost silently, shuddering at the light touch and biting her lower lip. That tiny murmur, that little admission of excitement, was all Tracer needed to keep going, her inhibitions collapsing like the Berlin Wall as she scooted inward on her knees, whimpering as she outright smashed her face into that butt, gasping against the purple fabric as she buried her face between those two glorious, heavenly orbs of ass. She could already feel her own suit begin to tighten, the nearly-liquid yellow cloth straining down below as a certain something began to swell and extend, stiffening, making a decidedly cock-shaped outline against the fabric.

“I guess I was right,” Sombra smirked, still holding Widowmaker against her, feeling the assassin tense and breathe out, doing her best not to moan. “I’d say the feeling’s mutual, too, considering how our little araña’s squirming... and how hard she’s getting.” The hacker let out a little giggle, dipping her fingers down to caress along the loaded crotch of Widowmaker’s suit, feeling the big, blue, throbbing thing down there. “How long have you been at that, now, Tracer? Twenty seconds? Thirty? She’s hard as a rock.”

“Mmphhnnammpphhhhahhh~” was the only reply that came back, both of Tracer’s hands now clasping to either side of Widowmaker’s backside, groping and squeezing it while she buried her face in its center. It was difficult to tell exactly what she was doing down there -- but whatever it was, she was enjoying it. And so was Widowmaker.

The assassin herself was doing her best to hold back every wince of excitement and pleasure, her head across Sombra’s shoulders just as Sombra’s was across from hers, making it so that nobody could watch the blissful twitches of her face, the way her eyes would flutter and threaten to roll back. Tracer’s fingers and lips rubbed and pressed along every inch of her ass; kissing, groping, pawing, then finally gently licking, locating Widowmaker’s delicate blue star through the fabric of her suit and slowly, lovingly dragging her tongue along it. The spasm of pleasure was too much to hold back this time, and now she could feel Sombra’s fingertips stroking along her cock.

She almost didn’t even notice the sound of Sombra unclasping something beneath her, letting out a little giggle before sliding her jacket off, tossing it aside. If she didn’t know any better, it was hard to say this wasn’t Sombra’s plan all along the way she was taking to it, her undergarments vanishing in a glimmer of pixels to reveal her firm, perky breasts, then the long expanse of dusky, creamy skin that led down to the stiff thing below, standing entirely at attention now and leaving Sombra in only kneesocks and boots. With both her and Tracer disarmed now, and D. va out of her mecha, maybe escaping this situation wouldn’t be so difficult after all....

...But did she really want to escape...?

No sooner did Sombra reveal her smooth, beautiful figure did she squish herself back up into Widowmaker, looking smoulderingly into the French woman’s gold eyes as she pressed her throbbing girlcock against the silhouette in Widowmaker’s suit, gently squishing up along it before letting out a soft, excited moan, then grinning widely when she felt Amèlie’s own shaft pulse and flex beneath her, trapped inside that suit but still shuddering with pleasure as if the fabric was merely a second skin. “I... what are you... doing....” Widowmaker murmured, closing her eyes, looking away, biting her lip hard as she tried not to cry out.

Nearby, on-looking, and all but forgotten, D. va blinked at the sudden sapphic display of Widowmaker being trapped between her two captors and seeming to enjoy every second of it. “Hah, gay,” she snorted, then fell silent for a moment when she went ignored by the trio. Blinking and quickly glancing from side to side, the blue-suited gamer -- also known as Hana Song -- lowered her voice a little. “I’m not sure if I can fap to this, but-- actually who’m I kidding, I can definitely fap to this.”

Spurred on by the sounds of Tracer desperately breathing through her nose as she worshiped Widowmaker’s ass with her mouth, D. va opened the front hatch of her MEKA suit once more, leaving it open as she crawled inside, splaying out comfortably in the seat and gently palming her hand over the front of her suit, letting out a soft squeak of excitement as she felt her pale cock underneath stiffen further, reacting to her own touch. “Fuccck,” she whispered, arching her back a little as she started to slowly rub herself, her slightly smaller girlcock quickly rising to full stiffness underneath the pliable fabric that covered it. Her other hand reached for the console behind her, clicking it open and withdrawing an ice-cold 2-liter of Mountain Dew.

Sombra slid her hand into the front of Widowmaker’s suit, pulling it away just enough to draw out one breast and cup it gently, massaging the smooth skin with her hand and biting gently into Amèlie’s shoulder, continuing to grind her cock up and down along Widowmaker’s, keeping it trapped between their bodies. Widowmaker herself was, at this point, not in any place to protest or complain as she struggled to keep from going cross-eyed -- she’d now, at last, broken past the barrier of her silent murmurs and groans with an all-out cry of bliss, pleasure building in her too fast, too much, constantly escalating. The idea that it was Tracer behind her, smothering herself with the sniper’s full butt, only made the entire thing more exciting. The way Sombra’s cock throbbed against hers, and the knowledge that the short, slim little gamer was watching not so far away, touching herself more hungrily now, pushing two fingers into her tiny ass through her suit....

“Tracer...” she cooed quietly, closing her eyes, swallowing that final R in her sultry accent. She couldn’t believe she was saying this, but she couldn’t hold back any longer. Didn’t want to. And, in spite of her rigorous Talon “training”... didn’t really feel like she had to. Something had woken up in her, a primal lust that overcame everything, only made stronger but her attachment to the brit and her simmering, long-term desire for her, the fantasies in her subconscious mind that some day something like this might happen. “Take me....”

No further encouragement was needed, though there was a brief pause between the invitation and any action taken upon it. Tracer looked up, pausing, blinking, a combination of hope, lust, and pure wonder in those big, bright eyes of hers. Finally she nodded, gradually lifting up off of her knees to stand behind Amèlie, bringing her hands to the other woman’s sumptuous hips and nuzzling into her neck from behind. “You sure, luv?” she whispered into Widowmaker’s ear, rubbing her lips against it hesitantly but not lunging yet. Already she was trembling from the feeling of her swollen, spandex-clad girlcock squished against the cleft of Widowmaker’s backside.

“...Please,” the assassin whispered, accentuating her words with a slight arch of her back, pressing her ass back against Tracer. Lena’s breath caught at the soft command, and as Widowmaker’s head tilted back to look at her, the two swept one another into a long, deep kiss, embracing like it’d been something they’d been waiting for years to do.

As Tracer’s hand slid up along the front of Widowmaker’s outfit, freeing the other breast and cupping it, exploring it, massaging it, Sombra and D. va seemed content for the moment to just enjoy the show -- the former having drawn back just enough to slip her own deep tan girlcock between the gap in Amèlie’s thighs, thrusting slow and smooth between them as she watched, feeling the soft flesh squeeze and grip around them.

Hana, on the other hand, was fully engrossed in the show, her suit opened in the front now to reveal her pale, smallish girlcock and perky teen breasts, a thin trickle of spilled Mountain Dew spilled between them and running down her flat white stomach. Transfixed, she neglected her freed dick now in favor of easing two fingers in and out of her delicate, clinging anus, carefully forcing in a third, her breathing heavy as she watched the others playtime.

As Tracer and Widowmaker hungrily kissed, their tongues now dancing adoringly in one another’s mouths, the former girl was reaching her free hand down to unfasten a few straps at the front of her suit, unfastening the chronal accelerator but keeping it active, and dropping it carefully at her side. A few more straps, and then her signature yellow flightsuit was opened, the shrinking fabric seeming to peel back just enough to expose her small, perky breasts and achingly rigid girldick. Another kiss, then another, and a lustful, meaningless whisper, and Tracer squished back into place, slipping her cock between her nemesis’ asscheeks and slowly grinding against them, letting out a hoarse little moan when she felt those globes contract around her, squeezing around her. Somewhat conflicting but nonetheless erotic was the sensation of Sombra’s deep thighfucking, each thrust now sawing the tip of the Mexican hacker’s girlcock back and forth along Tracer’s tightened balls.

“Widowmaker, mi cariña, can you bend over for me? I think it’s time we let Tracer have some space, but that doesn’t mean we can’t still have some fun--”

“Wait! No! My turn!” came an exasperated squeak from a flustered, pink-cheeked D. va, her stomach and petite cleavage lightly stained with soda and her slim cock so achingly stiff that it was beginning to leak little trickles of precum from her eager self-fingering. “I’ve had it with everyone rubbing their dick on Widowmaker but me! No more of this RNG bullshit!”

Sombra blinked as the slender, half-naked girl stormed over to them. “RNG?” she murmured.

“Get rekt!” she hissed, pouncing on the hacker girl with all the lustful, competitive rage of a Dorito-coated gremlin and causing both women to topple backwards -- landing in a somewhat suggestive pose on the rooftop, arms half-draped around one another, legs slightly spread, growling quietly at another before finally lunging inward, locking each other in and angry kiss with both their cocks on display, bobbing and twitching a few inches away from one another. “Mmmmphh....”

Widowmaker, too distracted by Tracer to care about what was happening, performed the last instruction that had made its way through her fogged mind, which was to lean down, hesitantly breaking her embrace with Tracer and getting onto her hands and knees, pushing her butt back a little and spreading her legs, giving Tracer one last longing glance before facing forward, her buttcheeks clenching down again as she felt Tracer start to more eagerly grind and thrust between them. Focusing her attention on what was in front of her, she briefly took in the sight of the two clinging, kissing girls, scooting in a little and reaching out to gently wrap her fingers around both of their stiff cocks, giving them slow, generous strokes before leaning in to take a light lick at Sombra’s, then at Hana’s, cooing and nibbling the edge of D. va’s slightly snug foreskin.

“I... I can’t believe I’m doing this...” Tracer moaned softly, her eyes wide as she squeezed and rubbed both of Widow’s asscheeks, squeezing them together so that she could fuck the snug valley, going faster and faster, more frantic. She needed more though. As amazing as this was, and as convinced as she was that she could just rut her girlcock against this valley of azure flesh until the day she died, she needed to go further. Needed to go beyond the point of no return.

Breathing heavily, Tracer drew her cock back a little, hooking her fingers in the fabric of Widowmaker’s suit and ripping a hole in it, not large enough that Amèlie’s poor cock would be able to escape the front of it, but big enough that Lena could dip down to lovingly drag her tongue along the sniper’s now-exposed anus, whimpering lovingly into it as she dragged her tongue around that smooth pucker in rapid circles, slathering it with her saliva -- and then pulling up once more. “Deep breath, luv,” she warned briefly, mounting Widowmaker more completely and lining her cock up with that slick little blue hole. Exhaling slowly herself, she prodded against it, then pushed inside, that snug opening swallowing her tip before slowly stretching around the rest of her. It was only a few moments of gentle-yet-insistent pushing that Tracer’s shaft was sheathed completely, enveloped in its entirety by the tightly-squeezing muscles of Widowmaker’s perfect ass.

Amèlie herself let out a husky, rolling moan of almost drunken ecstasy. Her mind had all but blanked as it shattered past the training and conditioning that had made her the way she was. It left her in a primitive state, unsure of who she wanted to be but knowing what she wanted -- she rocked her ass back and forth, slamming her butt back against Tracer’s hips as her mouth sunk down onto Sombra’s cock now, tongue coiling around it as she dove down deeper, taking the big thing down her throat. One hand rapidly stroked D. va’s smaller shaft while the other reached back to spread one buttcheek, as much to let Tracer know she was welcome as out of any real necessity, since she was currently not in a position to do much talking.

The sniper kept her eyes upward, focused on the vision of D. va and Sombra kissing hungrily, almost competitively, as if vying for superiority while they traded off turns with their cock in Widowmaker’s mouth. That turn shift came now, but as the assassin wrapped her hand instead around Sombra’s shaft, the kiss broke, and D. va’s high-pitched little voice rang out. “H-hey... blue chick... can you do this instead...?” she was breathless and panting, but knew what she wanted, reaching down to lift and cover her cock, presenting instead the pale pink star of her ass. Far too ecstatically addled by the feeling of her own backside being sweetly, deeply drilled by Tracer, Widowmaker didn’t ask any questions or hesitate in the least bit -- she lunged forward, all but sealing her lips to the gamer girl’s petite butt and dragging her tongue along that sweet star, lapping at it again and again, getting it slick the way Tracer had to hers before attempting to force her tongue inside. Still, simultaneously, she rapidly jerked off a squirming, spasming, whimpering Sombra, the hacker’s facade of chill seeming to have dropped entirely.

“Holy f-fuckinnn’--” D. va whimpered, shuddering, eyes rolling back as she buried her face into Sombra’s chest, spasming as her ass was eaten with such devotion. “Praise kek!” she finally gasped out, twitching when she’d almost had enough to recoiling, spasming from a mini-climax -- but she couldn’t cum yet, not until she’d gotten what she wanted.

Shifting away from Widowmaker a little, Hana gently slapped the French assassin’s hand away from Sombra’s cock with a flustered “heck off, scrublord!” climbing into the hacker’s lap with a sort of hyperactive desire that was scary to even try to get in the way of. Relenting quickly, Widowmaker simply flattened herself out against the roof, pushing her ass back even more so that she could appreciate the deep, frantically sweet butt-fucking she was getting from Tracer. This ended up being quite similar to what D. va herself had in mind.

Climbing her small frame into Sombra’s lap and then turning to face the other two, D. va panted softly as she lowered herself down onto the Mexican girl’s big, throbbing girlcock, sitting down on it completely and letting out a primal squeal of excitement, satisfaction, and mild discomfort. “HYaaaAaaAUugh...!”

“That too big for you, niña?” Sombra purred, wrapping her arms around the smaller girl and fondling one little breast, taking quickly to the new position and thrusting her hips upward, taking a long pump into that tight, creamy hole.

“Too big? Pshh...!” D. va whined, wincing as she lifted herself up a bit, planting her feet on Sombra’s thighs. “This... is...” she let out another little wavering moan, slamming herself back down, her own cock bobbing and twitching with borderline-climactic joy. “...EASY MO--mmphhh!”

The gamer’s proclamation was broken and stolen away by a hard kiss from Widowmaker, the assassin having lunged up to meet her once more, needing to cling to something, anything, while she was so passionately fucked. Rather than spreading her backside her hand now reached back to clasp tight to Tracer’s, holding tight to her while she hungrily, messily kissed D. va, both women getting a chance to bond as they were both fucked, albeit in different ways. While Widowmaker was assuredly the one being fucked, D. va blurred those lines by frantically hopping and bouncing in Sombra’s lap, taking the other girl’s cock as much as she was receiving it, her own small shaft bouncing in lazy circles as she wildly power-bottomed.

Positions locked, nothing seemed to change or rearrange after that -- merely escalate. With all four girls already on the brink of explosion by the time they’d gotten to this point it was only a matter of time before that explosion had to come. All four girls linked through their chain of scandal and lust, they picked up speed and force, moaning and screaming out into the night sky or into one another’s soft, wet lips. Tracer fucked Widowmaker while Sombra fucked D. va, both girls in the middle bound by their lips and tongues, gently pawing at each other as their orgasms built... and finally released.

Two such eruptions of seed had obvious destinations, as Tracer and Sombra both had their cocks occupied in their hole of choice, each burst of hot spunk filling up the back entrances of Widowmaker and D. va, respectively, flooding them with creamy cum. Hana’s free-floating girlcock simply unleashed itself into the air like fireworks, which, in this instance, meant that she completely coated Amèlie’s top half, streaming down her neck and chest to coat her exposed sapphire breasts. Widowmaker herself remained trapped in her suit, however -- a suit that suddenly became a great deal warmer and stickier on the inside as shot after shot of her cum flooded it, making a gooey, sizzling mess of her own latex-trapped cock and and the surrounding area, coating her stomach and even managing to burble out the front cleavage-window of the outfit. Each wild orgasm was accompanied by just as much screaming and twitching and pawing and panting, cacophonous, and seeming to last an eternity.

Finally, it seemed to lower down to a simmer, and relentless fucking gave way to exhausted snuggling, Tracer’s cock popping out of Widowmaker’s backside only to squish back between her buns as the assassin was cuddled from behind. D. va remained corked on Sombra, sitting down fully on her cock and laying back with a gasp of “Wasted,” her anus slowly contracting and spasming around its big invader while Widowmaker lazily lapped at the cum that was drooling out of it and down Sombra’s balls.

In that long moment there was no thought about what had happened, what any of this meant for Overwatch or the affairs of the world. Just this glow, this buzz of pleasure that wouldn’t go away.

At long last, a voice broke the silence, though not a voice of anyone present. This voice was soft -- concerned, perhaps confused, and decidedly Swiss.

“Um... we got the codes though. I see you apprehended Widowmaker?” Mercy said, offering an awkward smile.