A D.Va, the Faire , a Waffle

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Thank you for stopping by and checking out my story. It’s the first of a three part series.

The game Overwatch figures into this tale, and although I usually try to avoid pinning my stories down to a specific time, this particular story is set around September to December 2017, and by the time it got published, some of the characters, abilities and powers have already changed, but the meta is correct for the period in which this takes place.

Other than that, I hope you enjoy this tale. It features some characters from one of my other stories, so in some shameless cross-promotion, you might want to check out my Spring Break, Weekend Getaway and Foursomes and Moresomes stories.

Like many of my other stories, this one starts slow, so if you’re looking for a quick stroke, this probably isn’t the story for you. (The next chapters pick up in that department, I promise!)

Please remember to vote and send me a message or leave a comment!


Max Brenneman lazily stepped out of the elevator and turned right. A few people milled around the lobby, which buzzed with activity.

It was relatively early, but a few families were taking advantage of the hotel’s complimentary breakfast, and a handful of individuals and couples dotted the room.

He headed straight for the waffle makers, one of which was not being used. He poured himself a cup full of batter, set it in the iron and turned it over, which started the timer. During the next two and a half minutes, he put some overcooked scrambled eggs and a couple of dry sausage patties on a plate. He got himself two helpings of butter and some syrup.

Having spent two weeks in the hotel already, he had it down to a routine.

When his waffle was done, Max put fetched it out of the iron, put it on another plate and headed back down the hall.

There was a group of people waiting by the elevator. When it opened, a family of four got out, then everyone waiting stepped in.

“Can you press five for me, please,” he said to whomever was closest to the buttons.

“Sure thing,” a cheery, feminine voice replied. “What ya got for breakfast?”

“Waffle, eggs, sausage,” Max said absently.

“That’s it?”

“It’s the best thing I could find to eat down there.”

“Maybe you weren’t looking in the right place,” the girl replied. Everyone else in the elevator snickered.

It took a second for the innuendo to sink in. The elevator stopped before he could reply.

“Enjoy your waffle,” the girl smiled mischievously.

“I’m sure it would be better if I had someone to share it with,” he recovered, and then stepped out of the elevator and turned down the hall towards his room.

Just as the door started to close, there was some jostling from the people in the elevator and the girl got out. Startled, Max heard the other people in the elevator laughing. A tall redhead in the back winked before the doors closed again.

“Well, I’m still hungry.” Her voice was mischievous and kind. Max blushed as he got his first look at her. She was a little shorter than he. The first two things he noticed were a pair of full, round breasts that filled out a Battlestar Galactica t-shirt. He had to consciously move his eyes up to meet hers. Her sandy blonde hair was pulled back into a pony-tail and her big brown eyes seemed to bore right into him.

“I’m . . . um . . . down at the end of the hall,” Max stammered as they began walking towards his room.

“Well, I’m Tempest,” she giggled.

He flushed with embarrassment. “Max.”

“It’s nice to meet you, Max.” They stopped outside his door. “Can I hold your waffle?”

“Sure.” He fumbled into the pocket of his flannel pajama bottoms for his room key. “Uh, would you like to come in for breakfast?”


“Of course,” Tempest said sweetly. “How could I turn down such a delicious looking waffle?”

Pushing the door open with his one free hand, Max set the plate with his eggs and sausage on it on the table, then took the other plate from his guest.

His room wasn’t messy, but nor was it spotless. It looked like a single guy had been living there for two weeks. A laptop sat on the table in front of the couch with papers strewn about. A full-tower computer with dual monitors was set up on the desk along with a high-DPI mouse, gamepad and headset. The bed was unmade, but his clothes were in the closet or the dresser, except for a jacket that hung over the back of one of the chairs.

The Residence Inn had provided him with a kitchenette that had a three-quarter-size refrigerator, two-burner cooktop range, microwave oven and a dishwasher. He kept the “do not disturb” sign out most of the time, only having housekeeping in twice a week to change out his towels.

Max could tell his guest was giving his room the once-over and judging him for his living habits and grading his cleanliness. SportsCenter was muted on the TV.

When her gaze fell on the claymore leaned up against the corner, her eyes got wide.

Tempest bahis firmaları set the waffle down on the table next to the other plate and she walked over to the sword. “May I?”

“Of course.” He was judging her reactions as well.

Reverently, she hefted the weapon, which was almost five feet long. She partially withdrew it from the leather scabbard, inspecting the blade. He could tell that she was used to handling swords, and not in the euphemistic way. It wasn’t an actual fighting-quality sword, but it was a nice show piece to be worn decoratively.

“Going off to fight the English?” she asked with a wicked grin.

“There’s a renaissance festival down the road near Dayton.”

“Well, shit, I wish we’d known that.” Max raised an eyebrow at Tempest’s willingness to blurt out profanity in front of someone she had just met and that she was the kind of girl who would be interested in going to a ren faire.

She sheathed the sword and gently set it back in its place. Max retrieved an extra fork and knife from the drawer. “Would you like your own plate?”

“No, thank you,” she replied.

“Would you like something to drink? I’ve got cherry Pepsi, generic orange pop, lemon iced tea, cheap beer and water.”

“Um . . .unsweet tea please.”

“Sweetener? I think there’s some pink packets and maybe a Splenda around somewhere.”

“No, thanks.”

Max got himself a Wild Cherry Pepsi in a can out of the fridge along with a bottle of AriZona Ice Tea for his guest. They sat down at the small table across from one another.

Max spread butter over the waffle, which was rapidly cooling. “So what brings you Columbus?”

“One of my sisters is getting married next month. She lives up here, so we’re taking her out for her bachelorette weekend. What about you?”

“I’m here on business.”

They each cut into opposite sides of the waffle. She took a couple of bites, probably just to say she was sharing his waffle, but not enough to actually deprive Max of his breakfast.

“Can I offer you some cold sausage?” Max asked just to see how far he could push her.

“Maybe if you warmed it up for me,” Tempest shot back evenly, her eyes dancing with delight, as if trying to decide which innuendo to pursue, but she instead went for conventional conversation. “What do you do for a living?”

“Do you want the long answer or the short answer?”

“Um . . . the short answer.”

“I’m a trainer for a computer database program that’s used at universities and non-profit companies.”

“That sounds exciting.” Max couldn’t tell if she was being sarcastic or not.

“I go out for one to four weeks at a time to either do new product training or refreshers on all aspects of the program. It does everything from admissions to scheduling to payroll to fundraising.” He left it at that for fear of boring her to death. “What about you?”

“I’m a sophomore at NC State.”

“What are you studying?” Quickly doing the math, Max figured he was six or seven years older than she.

“I’m in the electrical engineering program. I want to get into medical robotics.”

Their conversation was interrupted by her cell phone buzzing and calling out, “Heroes never die!” in a woman’s German accent. She let out an audible snort after reading the text message and then quickly tapped out a response. “Nosy bitches.”


“My sisters,” Tempest replied.

“How many do you have?”

“Six. Only five are here this weekend, though. The oldest is in the Navy and is flying somewhere over the Pacific or some shit like that. Plus a brother.”

This girl is full of surprises, Max thought to himself.

“They’re threatening to leave me if I don’t . . .” Tempest paused to read her text verbatim. ” ‘Give him a quick handjob and get the fuck out of there.’ “

If she was embarrassed, she didn’t show it. Max felt his face redden. She tapped away at the screen on her smartphone. “I told them I’m going to ditch them and go to the ren faire with you. After all, you let me play with your sword.”

Max nearly spat waffle out all over his guest.

Another text came in for her. She glanced at the screen, but set it down, intent on paying attention to her host.

“Mercy main?” Max asked conversationally. He started on the sausage. She took one more bite of the waffle and then set her fork down.

“Not me,” Tempest snorted. “That ringtone is for my sister, Brooke. She’s the healer in all our games. I like Reinhardt or D.Va. You?”

“Soldier or Pharah mostly, but I’m also pretty good with Mei and Bastion.”

“Thank God you’re not a Hanzo main; I’d have to walk out of here and tell my sisters that you’re a worthless sack of shit,” she rolled her eyes derisively. “Hanzo’s a cunt.”

So she plays Overwatch, likes BSG and would go to a ren faire. Max thought to himself. I guess I’m not too much of a nerd for her after all. I just won’t mention that I sometimes play Hanzo so I can get the play of the game.

Her phone buzzed again. kaçak iddaa Tempest giggled and typed out another reply before setting her phone down once more.

“I’m sorry for my sisters’s crass attitudes and for allowing them to interrupt our meal,” Tempest said formally. “But I’ve got to get going if we’re going to make our spa appointment. I think we’ve got a full day planned, but if you’re free, I would like very much if you would join me for breakfast tomorrow.”

“I would be delighted, my lady.” Max stood along with his guest. He opened the door for her. “May I walk you to your room?”

“You’d better not; Gabi, she’s the bitchiest—and the bride—will give you hell if you show up at our door,” Tempest said apologetically. “Thank you for the company. Enjoy the ren faire.”

Max gave her an exaggerated bow. “I look forward to sharing another waffle with you.”

Tempest surprised him by giving him a quick peck on the cheek, and then laughed playfully.

Then she turned and headed down the hall towards the elevator.

His eyes lingered on her round backside as she walked away. Max went back into his room and sat down at the table to finish off his waffle when he realised he didn’t know how to get in touch with her. Mentally kicking himself, he flung the door open and stepped into the hallway, but she was gone.

And he was suddenly in need of a cold shower.


In his dream, there was a loud buzzing. It took Max a few seconds to shake the sleep out of his eyes as it hit him that the phone next to his bed was actually ringing.

He fumbled around in the darkness, reaching towards the flashing light.

“Hello?” he mumbled.

“Goddammit, are you alive? Answer the door!” Then the line went dead.

Blinking the sleep out of his eyes, Max stumbled out of the bed, but not before turning on one of the reading lights over the nightstand. He then made his way across the room. As soon as he entered the outer room, he heard someone pounding on the door from the hallway.

After fumbling with the chain, Max opened the door and found Tempest silhouetted against the light streaming in from the hallway. She strode into the room and planted a deep, sloppy kiss on Max’s lips as the door shut behind her.

She smelled of smoke and tasted of tequila.

Max stumbled back as Tempest threw herself into his arms. Her ample breasts were squashed flat against his chest and she stuck her tongue into his mouth.

As suddenly as she had come on to him, Tempest pulled away, giggling.

“Do your sisters know where you are?” Max asked cautiously. His head was swimming with confusion. It didn’t help that not 60 seconds before, he had been sound asleep.

Tempest snorted. “Nope. I told them I was going to get a drink from the front desk.”

“Maybe you should let them know where you went.”

“Those bitches know I’m going to get laid,” she declared with a predatory look in her eyes. Part of Max was aroused. Part worried. He didn’t want to take advantage of the young woman in her current state, but he also didn’t know if he could resist the beautiful, aggressive girl in his arms.

She went in to kiss him again, but Max put his arms around her, deflecting the press of her lips against his cheek instead. He shifted into babysitter mode.

They made their way towards the bed. Max caught a glimpse of the clock; it was almost three.

Despite her advances, Max sensed her movements slowing down. He lay her down on the bed, and she made what was probably supposed to be a seductive look. Instead, her eyes were glazing over.

“I’m going to get you something to drink.” Max said, stepping away from her for a moment. Tempest fell back into the pillows.

He filled glass with water and fished a couple of ibuprofen out of his medicine kit. After some coaxing, she took them, then promptly lay her head down on the pillow and blacked out.

Breathing a sigh of relief, Max sat on the edge of the bed and tried to decide how best to take care of this new dilemma.

In the soft light, Max took in the sight before him.

Tempest’s sandy blond hair was woven into a loose braid that hung down past her shoulders. She was made up for a night out on the town. A tight, v-neck top showed off her full, supple breasts. Her hips were round, with a full backside that filled out her jeans nicely. She had a little bit of a pooch around her belly, but her waist narrowed to highlight her curves; just the kind of girl Max liked.

She wasn’t carrying a purse. She did, however, have her cell phone in her back pocket.

Max swiped at the entry screen, trying to unlock it so he could get to her contacts. It was passcode protected. He pressed her index finger against the Home button to see if that would unlock it. Then her thumb.

No luck.

He thought about calling the front desk and asking them to ring her room, but he didn’t even know her last name.

With no other real course of action, he shook her until she groggily opened her kaçak bahis eyes.

“Tempest? Honey, what room are you staying in?” It took him several tries to get a response.

“Seven one six,” she mumbled, then promptly passed out again.

Taking a deep breath, Max, went to the outer room and dialed room 716 from the phone on the desk.


“Hi, are you one of Tempest’s sisters?” Max asked nervously.

“Yes, are you Max from the elevator?”

“I am. She’s here and passed out.”

He heard the other girl snort and giggle at the same time. “We thought that’s where she went. What room are you in? We’ll come and get her.”

“Five zero two. Get off the elevator, turn right and I’m at the end of the hallway.”

“We’ll be right down.”

A few minutes later, there was a knock at the door. It was much softer than Tempest’s. Two young women stood expectantly in the hallway.

“Max? Hi, I’m Gabrielle,” the shorter girl said, her voice polite but without pretense. She was a slender Asian woman with a pixie cut, stylish wire-framed glasses and a no-horseshit look on her face. She looked to be closer to Max’s age than Tempest’s.

The taller girl had a full head of auburn hair that hung down to her waist. She had a thick athletic build. Both looked like they had hastily changed into t-shirts and sweatpants. He vaguely recognised them from the elevator encounter the day before. “This is my sister, Serafina.”

“Hi, nice to meet you,” Max let them in.

“Maybe if our bitch sister could hold her liquor, we’d be meeting under more pleasant circumstances.” Gabrielle sounded annoyed, and Max wondered if everyone in her family swore freely all the time. Of course, it didn’t help that it was 3 AM and the girls had apparently been drinking a lot.

Serafina looked amused as Max led them to back room, where Tempest had collapsed on the bed.

“Do you need help?” Max asked, trying to be useful. “I could carry her back to your room.”

“No, thanks,” Serafina smiled sweetly. “But we appreciate it. We can get her.”

The two girls tried to wake their sister, but didn’t have much luck.

Serafina, who was a full head taller than Max, lifted Tempest off the bed by one arm. Gabrielle slipped under the other and they got their sister up. Tempest’s head hung limply to the side.

Her eyes fluttered open.

“Come on, Stormy, time to get you home,” Gabrielle said sternly. Obviously, she was the big sister, and used to being in charge. “Walk if you can.”

They made their way to the door, which Max held open. Tempest took a couple of steps, but was mostly dead weight. “Are you sure you don’t need any help?”

“We’ve gotten her out of worse,” Serafina said, a flash of sadness in her eyes. “But thank you for your kindness, Max.”

“You’re welcome,” he said, feeling kind of useless. He handed Tempest’s phone to Gabrielle. “Tell her to call me if she needs a waffle in the morning.”

“I’m sure we’ll all be needing a waffle in the morning,” Gabrielle muttered under her breath. “Soak some of the alcohol out of this bitch’s stomach . . .”

Max closed the door behind the girls, then stumbled back to the bed. It took him a long time to get back to sleep.


No alarm went off on Sunday morning, but Max was up early anyway, his internal clock rousing him a little before 8:30.

After throwing on a t-shirt, flannel pants and a ballcap, Max wandered down to the breakfast area, not really expecting to see any of the girls. He fixed himself a plate full of food, then sat down at one of the tables to eat, with one eye on the elevators.

There was no sign of the sisters. He didn’t know why he was so intent on meeting up with Tempest, but he rationalised it to himself by thinking that he wanted to make sure she was okay.

Max finished his breakfast and then returned to his room. He thought to call them, since he knew their room number, but decided that it would come off as desperate, so he booted up his laptop and decided to work for a while.

A little before noon, there was a soft knock on the door. Max jumped out of his chair.

Reaching for the handle, he had to pause for a moment to catch his breath and try to will his heart rate down.

Tempest smiled sheepishly when he finally opened the door. Her hair was pulled back in a sloppy pony tail. She didn’t have any makeup on, and wore an oversized pair of scrub pants along with a faded Star Wars t-shirt.

“Hi,” she whispered.

“Hi, . . . um, how are you feeling this morning?” Max stammered.

“Better, now,” she spoke much slower and softer than the night before.

Neither spoke for a long moment.

“I . . . uh, wanted to apologise for showing up drunk on you last night,” she flushed with embarrassment. “And I . . . I need to thank you for not taking advantage of me . . . I haven’t had a night like that in a long time.

Max was at a loss for words. He tried to form a response, but his body didn’t seem to work.

“If you think less of me . . . I understand.”

He reached out when she started to back away. Taking her hand in his, Max pulled her in to a big hug. She seemed tense at first, but soon returned his affection.

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