#do you know. how fuckin hear wrenching it is to see a great living master and several something chapters later they fuck?????????????????

[malewifingonside]

When will i find a danmei where the mc has a great relationship with their master and they are not the cp

[glitchinthesystemspiderbyte]

[8] Glitch in the System - Slumber Party (Secret Part 3)

By E. Cereal happens.

–

When Sombra woke up, she had to pee.

Bad.

Unfortunately, at some point during the night, her spooning situation with Widowmaker had turned more into a proper cuddle, with the spider’s head resting on her chest and one hand delicately curled around the low scoop of her nightshirt. She breathed with a slow precision even in her sleep, but her expression was lacking the hyperfocus and disinterest that colored her waking hours. Instead she looked calm, composed, and relaxed in a way she’d never seen the sniper look before. Not while conscious; not while aware of the fluctuating emotional connection she could never quite grasp, like water perpetually slipping through her fingers. She knew she’d never understand how that felt, and despite her body pleading with her to get up, she simply couldn’t bear to interrupt Widowmaker’s brief moment of solace.

Ah, Dios, what are you getting yourself into, Sombra?

It had been a long time since she’d shared a bed with anyone. Strangely enough, the life of an international master hacker wasn’t particularly conducive to maintaining healthy companionship. Now fleeting memories pushed their way back into her brain, and the feelings such proximity reminded her of made her blush.

Tentatively lifting her hand to the side of Widowmaker’s face, she brushed a stray piece of hair away from her forehead. The spider opened her eyes, and Sombra watched the slow dawning of the day’s tension and numbness slip back into her face, breaking the brief moment of serenity she’d managed to catch a fleeting glimpse of.

“Sombra,” the spider said, and she expected her to push herself away with the practiced ease she normally exhibited, but Widowmaker stayed where she was - head pressed against the skin of Sombra’s chest, eyes averted, voice a deadpan reminder of her constructed existence as an automaton for hire. It was simultaneously endearing and heart wrenching, and Sombra felt herself warming even as the spider’s skin seemed to cool with every breath she took.

“Morning,” she replied inelegantly, trying not to shift. “Did you sleep all right?”

“I slept…all right,” was the spider’s reply, and Sombra couldn’t quite parse out the meaning behind her hesitation.

“Oh. Good,” she said through the palpable awkwardness beginning to suffuse the room. As an addendum, she added with the least amount of finesse on the planet, “I have to pee.”

“So pee?” Widowmaker replied, less mockingly and more in confusion.

“You’re on me,” Sombra said.

“Oh,” the sniper replied, and Sombra caught a note of embarrassment in her voice as she extricated herself from the sheets entangling her and moved to sit on the side of the bed.

Sombra vanished into the adjoining bathroom across the suite.

She took the opportunity to brush her teeth, and as she was finishing up, she heard a knock on her door. “Ah hell, who’s even up at this hour?” She tossed her toothbrush onto the cluttered counter and stalked out of the room, conscious of the fact that she’d still not put on pants from the night before and hoping whoever was on the other side wouldn’t mind.

Opening the door, she saw Gabriel standing in the hall looking decidedly displeased to be doing so. She kept the door closed enough that he couldn’t see into her room at the potentially compromising scenario she found herself in that morning, the context of which was arguably more incriminating than the pretense of the situation. She had no idea how the rest of Talon would react to their classified papers being handed back to their human weapon and had no interest in finding out before she’d had her morning coffee.

“Yes?”

“I can’t find Widowmaker. Do you know where she is?” he asked, his gruff voice betraying the distaste he found in having to ask Sombra anything at all.

“No clue, boss. Sorry,” she replied, smiling with a forceful innocence only present in someone desperately hoping the person before them couldn’t read their thoughts.

As she stood there, she felt a presence press up behind her, and the subtle warmth of breath on her neck as Widowmaker made her presence known over her shoulder.

“What do you need, Gabriel?” she asked, and Sombra wasn’t sure if she was making up the added hint of venom that coated the spider’s words.

“Oh, there you are,” he replied, and Sombra had the momentary pleasure of watching his face twist in confusion at a thing he hadn’t predicted nor could be readily explain. “What are you doing here?”

“Slumber party,” Widowmaker replied, shrugging fluidly as though nothing were amiss or suspicious at all.

Gabriel looked between the two women curiously, eyes flicking from one to the other before he apparently decided to leave the details to ignorance. “Great, well, Akande needs to debrief you when you have a moment.” Nodding at Sombra and the sniper, he turned and walked down the hall.

Shutting the door, Sombra looked back at Widowmaker and raised an eyebrow. “Well done, araña,” she said sarcastically.

“I should be going,” Widowmaker replied, seeming unconvinced by her own words, the storm of indecision whirling around her a palpable sensation.

“Sure,” Sombra shrugged, stepping away from the door, but the sniper didn’t move towards it just yet.

“What’s wrong?” the hacker asked, leaning against the door frame. She’d given up on her indecency, letting her shirt fall where it may.

“Nothing is wrong,” Widowmaker replied, shifting restlessly on her feet.

“Bullshit, Lacroix. I read people for a living, remember?” Sombra smirked, crossing her arms as she attempted to gain a modicum of control over a situation she wasn’t sure she’d ever had any handle on to begin with. It had been a nice few minutes before Gabe had shown up, at least.

“Well stop,” came Widowmaker’s unexpectedly raw reply, her expression conveying annoyance and, to a small degree, hurt. “Stop trying to figure me out.”

“Sorry,” Sombra relented, uncertain where her fight had run off to all of a sudden. She felt more tired than she had when she’d gone to bed, but still didn’t regret what she’d done, even if it was making their situation extremely awkward.

“I’m not a project,” Widowmaker continued, eyes averted, voice hard as she looked anywhere but at the woman in front of her. “I’m not a thing for you to unlock.”

“I know,” Sombra replied, trying to convince herself of that as she spoke the words. Everything was a project to her, to some degree. If that was a character flaw, well, then at least it was a flaw that got results.

Widowmaker might have a point, though. Maybe the best way to approach her situation wasn’t as a code to crack, but a bridge to build. She wasn’t as good at that, but everyone had to start somewhere on the path to excellence, right?

“Look,” she sighed, now realizing where Widowmaker’s reluctance was coming from and electing to address it head on rather than dance around it for the next week. “I didn’t give you that file because of some ulterior motive, or some secret double-agent spy backstabbing bullshit reason. I gave it to you because it was yours to know.” She shrugged, walking across her room to rummage through her drawers and finally locate a pair of pants to pull on over her bare legs. “I have a lot of information that belongs to other people. A lot. It wasn’t something I decided on lightly, but I did, and now it’s yours - no strings attached.” Slipping her pants on one leg at a time, she buttoned them at her hips and smoothed her shirt over the hem. “Believe what you want, but I just couldn’t sit on it anymore.”

“I don’t know what to do now,” was Widowmaker’s surprisingly soft reply.

“Yeah,” Sombra shrugged, admitting her own inexperience in the matter. “Me either.”

They stood for a moment, Widowmaker stock still and unmoving as Sombra idly picked lint off her sleeve. Eventually the silence became overbearing, and Sombra sighed.

“If there’s anything I’ve learned about new problems, it’s that tackling them all at once isn’t always the best idea - especially if they’re complex ones. Sometimes the best thing to do is untangle the most pressing part of the problem and deal with it a day at a time.” She looked up at Widowmaker, surprised to see she was looking at her now instead of avoiding her eyes. “What do you need right now?”

“I’m hungry,” she replied, her voice returned to the deadpan delivery Sombra was used to hearing from her.

“Then let’s get some fuckin’ cereal, araña.” Grinning, she opened her door and followed Widowmaker down the stairs and into the kitchen for breakfast.

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