CATALYST’S GOO

NSFW or SFW isn't an issue and I'm okay with writing both. I write better gender neutrally or with a female reader.

Please do not request a male reader, especially for NSFW.

DO NOT interact IF you're bigoted or narrow minded.

DO NOT feed my work into generative AI. I am learning how to write.

I'm pretty lenient on what I write.

WILL: NSFW, SFW, light violence, HCS/FICLET, most kinks, x-readers, things like NSFW and SFW alphabets, comforting and hurtful topics.

WILL NOT: Illegal, deranged, strange relationships, piss/scat kinks, age regression, unconsentual topics including CNC, bestiality, character x character, some mental disorders as to not misinterpret them, male reader, and some kinks... but you can ask or dm them anyway if you're unsure if it's okay.

I WILL DELETE YOUR REQUEST IF YOU REQUEST SOMETHING I SPECIFIED I WON’T WRITE. BE RESPECTFUL.

WHO I WILL WRITE FOR BELOW. MAY BE UPDATED.

Alter

Ash

Axle

Catalyst

Conduit

Horizon

Loba

Mad Maggie

Rampart

Valkyrie

Vantage

Wattson

WORK I'VE ALREADY DONE BELOW.

AXLE X GN! READER - SFW RELATIONSHIP HCS/FICLET.

AXLE X GN! READER - FOR SAFETY - SFW FIC.

AXLE X FEM! READER - NSFW RELATIONSHIP HCS/FICLET.

AXLE X GN! READER - KISS IT OFF ME - SFW FIC.

AXLE X FEM! READER - JEALOUS, MUCH? - NSFW FIC.

CATALYST X GN! READER - SFW SLEEPING RELATIONSHIP HCS/FICLET.

CATALYST X GN! READER - SFW DATING + RELATIONSHIP HCS/FICLET.

HORIZON X GN! READER - SFW RELATIONSHIP HCS/FICLET.

VANTAGE X GN! READER - SFW DATING HCS/FICLET.

“I will push you to the brink of madness. Should be fun.” Your girlfriend’s ending quote had left a strange taste in your mouth since she uttered them just hours ago. It had been fleeting, something you didn’t expect her to say after she’d just stepped off the podium that had promoted her latest win and poured into bets across the Outlands, overrun with fans and sponsors who wanted a chance to speak to one of the coolest Apex Legends under the spotlight right now. You still didn’t know what those words meant. Even the tone confused you. You suppose you were lucky not to have to face off against her in the ring. You weren’t a Legend. Isa had her way with words. They clung to people like barnacles wherever she went, wherever she competed. They had an effect that was hard to ignore on her competitors, her judgement always seeming to slam into someone’s chest a lot harder. Maybe it was her fire. Maybe it was her energy. There was just a ferocity about the racer. It invoked a carnal instinct within you that was anything but easy to swat away, the ache that grew between your legs each time you thought about her. It didn’t help that thinking about her only made you more aroused. You’ve never even slept with her before. Why does she make you feel this way?

And so suddenly… — Sighing softly, you drifted your eyes from your phone, clicking the longer “OFF” button to darken the screen to a dim and placing it flat on the wooden bar in front of you where you’d been drawn to pass the time while Isa was gone. Your legs shifted on the stool, one idly bouncing as you tried to collect your bearings. Where even was Isa? Probably cooped up with sponsors, you assumed. She left fairly quickly. “Ay! I ain’t seen ya in a while! Where ya been, eh?” A toned hand suddenly finds itself on your shoulder, nearly making you jump out your seat. The volume also made you wince. Who even has the audacity to be so loud? Being surrounded by boisterous Legends with booming voices was something you haven’t gotten used to yet. “Ha—jeez. I didn’t mean to give ya that big of a scare. Ya look ready to poop your pants!” Turning to face the audacious noisemaker, you find yourself eye-to-eye with Salvo’s infamous Warlord. You had to suppress a tiny gulp from being so close, your body instinctively trying to make yourself a little smaller. Your eagerness to say something died down just as quickly as it built. Her hand was still perched on your shoulder, her fingers curling into the flesh even through your shirt. “I’ve been—uh. Um. Around,” you responded, now hesitant to break the eye contact you unwillingly made already. Having an important connection to an Apex Legend like Isa gave you access to the normally restricted Legend’s common areas, so naturally, you were bound to meet some other Legends. Some were used to seeing you, Maggie being one of them. She had recently garnered an interest for you ever since she found out about your relationship, much to your chagrin. You’d be lying if you said she didn’t scare you. Especially without anyone else around. “Around? Yeah, yeah…“ Maggie turns her head, looking around for a moment, maybe looking for someone, before settling back on you, her hand slowly sliding off your shoulder. She carelessly plunged into the seat beside you, swinging her arm over the rear of the stool as she continued. “Where’s that hoon of yours? Thought you were attached by the hip. Would need bloody surgery to take ya apart.” “Hoon?” “Axle. Hoon. Same thing. Why she ain’t with ya?” Maggie corrected, though partially. You had no clue where Maggie got some of her nicknames. You weren’t going to question the whole “egg” thing either. “Got a drink with her name on it.” “She’s… busy. Probably with sponsors and stuff. The usual stuff after a team wins,” your eyes finally averted, staring down into the bar table. You were too socially awkward for this. Maggie was scary. Your fingertips tightened around your phone’s case.

“What’s with ya and that hoon anyway?” You actually weren’t too sure what made you so special, even now. You didn’t know why Isa decided to pluck you from the overflowing crowd that would do anything just to lick her boots. And yet here you were. You didn’t expect to be asked about it, though. About your relationship. To Maggie, you basically tamed a wild Prowler. And that made you a dot on her radar. “Well?—“ “That’s enough.” A familiar, heavier accented voice radiated through the room, and you exhaled slowly. Maggie abruptly swung her feet onto the polished flooring of the commons area, a sharp grin striking its way across her face as she laid eyes on the racer now standing beside you. Others were filtering into the room as well, some focused on the altercation. “Well, well. Were ya takin’ a nap? Was looking for ya…” “You found me. You can speak to me now,” Isa bit, curtly. You were now practically sandwiched between two women on either side of your stool. And Salvonians, too. This is what you got for trying to relax. “I was hopin’ to down a few drinks with ya, but it looks like to me that you’ve got other plans. What’s got ya all twisted up today?” Maggie caught the bit of venom tainted in Isa’s tone. “Didn’t ya win?” “Nothing. You mind your business.” You suddenly felt a strong grip fall against your already bruised shoulder, the same inches of skin where Maggie had snatched you by earlier. Magenta tinted nails then slid to curl around the back of your collar, tugging you slightly off the chair like a kitten by its scruff. Isa seemed more than insistent for you to get up. Maggie didn’t miss it. “Like I said,” Maggie shrugged, snorting, “other plans. Goin’ too soft for someone with Salvo’s boilin’ blood. Still gonna honor me with a drink when you’re done with whatever this is?” Maggie asked, outstretching her pointer finger to circle around and gesture to Isa as a whole. “I do not like repeating myself. Buy yourself a drink if you have to,” Isa pulled tighter on the back of your collar whilst simultaneously waving Maggie’s finger out of her face, and you were more than happy to obey. She had a flair you didn’t want to fuck around with right now. Your shoes stumbled to a squeak onto the floor, your back colliding with Isa’s chest. She was dragging you away before Maggie could catch her. “Oh, wow. Even you know drinkin’ by ya-self ain’t no fun. I’ll be in the lounge once ya get the stick out ya ass!” Maggie called out, though her voice faded as Isa turned into the hallway, you in hand. Even out of sight, Isa didn’t release you yet. It was only until you reached the hallway of the Legend’s quarters did she let go of your collar, and you stumbled into the bleached wall beside you. Looking back up, you turned to face her. Orrrr.. maybe not. She looks incredibly intimidating right now. You swallowed a noticeably large lump in your throat, peeping something small. “What was that for, Isa? Her and I weren’t—“ “That’s not the point. Keep your excuses to yourself,” Isa replied, placing her hands on her sides in her usual form. “I do not care what you were saying to her. You don’t do it again. I have told you this before, and you continue not to listen. Understand?” Oh, jeez. She really was in some sort of mood. You just nodded, your back pressing against the white wall. Thankfully, nobody else was around to see you get scolded. But this new streak of aggression was making you a little more wet than you’d like to admit. “I asked you something, I don’t remember asking you to nod at me. Properly this time,” Isa raised an unimpressed brow, her lip quirking in irritation. Her hand snaked to curl her fingers around your upper arm. You knew better than to go against her wishes. “I understand.”

“Good. Follow me,” Isa suddenly turned around to continue walking down the hallway, her hold on your arm tightening as she kept you walking alongside her with a sharp tug. It felt like she was planning to dislocate your arm. You didn’t seem to have a choice whether you wanted to follow her or not. The warmth of her palm felt like a surge of energy—a heat that plunged right between your legs and spiraled through the twists of your guts. That feeling still clung to you, only amplified by her mean mood. Reaching her door, the distinguishing name plate above the frame gleamed under the aggressive beating of the overhead fluorescents. She pushed you aside to place her palm onto the rectangular biometrics screen, it transforming into a steady blue in the midst of scanning her print. “You remember what I said to you?” Isa inquired, her sharp eyes now darting to yours. Her tone now changed from firm to blank, your mind contorting itself upside down and around in an attempt to read what she was feeling. Normally you were decent. “Huh?” “What I said. Did you not listen?” So, you’re fucked. “I… was. I just don’t remember,” you replied with a hint of shyness, noticing the door now flickering green, hissing open to reveal her room. You had a twinge of relief, thinking she’d maybe step inside and give you a moment of time to think, but she didn’t. She stared at you. “I told you I’d push you. That’s what I said. So you weren’t serious about listening. Okay,” Isa paused to sigh, flicking her chin towards the entrance. “In. Go.” Isa hooked her wrist around your arm again, dragging you inside her room. You saw the light flicker out from the hallway once the door hissed shut again, leaving you two confined. Isa’s room was a mix of black and violet, with several awards on the wall and.. houseplants? Her room was pretty dark, but bright enough to see something. You were promptly thrusted backwards onto her bed, your butt making contact with her previously made blanket, scrunching it up. She stood over you, clearly displeased despite it not being your fault. Isa’s hand darted to your chin, digging her nails into the softness of you. You winced with the sting of contact. Heat pooled feverishly in your lower stomach. You really fucking wanted her. Now you were panicking, from excitement or fear, you weren’t sure. Your words tumbled from your mouth like a landslide, as if you had no control over yourself. “I feel like you’re going to make a habit of disobeying me. Are you?” Isa muttered, almost bored. As if this was some sort of inconvenience. “No—no—of course n—“ “Of course not, what?” Isa interrupted instantly. Her strength grew under your jaw, the projected redness now bound to bloom. “Of course—uh—“ “Of course not, mistress,” Isa corrected finally, pushing you back and releasing her firm hold on your aching jaw. “Correctly, now.” Your hands clutched the sheets below you, your lips stutter for a moment. They froze for one moment then opened after another. You couldn’t believe you were doing this shit. You were not calling her your mistress—

“Of course not, mistress…” “Ah, better. Keep this up,” Isa finally nodded, satisfied. She placed her hands on either side of your head, pulling herself onto the bed and over your hips. She used her left to hold herself up, bringing her right towards her mouth and sinking her teeth into the fabric of her glove to take it off, tossing it onto the nightstand. A few burns littered her wrist, something your eyes locked into immediately. “Eyes on me, not there,” Isa corrected once again as she caught you staring, taking this opportunity to act as a teacher. She nudged your chin up again, forcing you to make eye contact with her. “You will try and stay good for me. Can you do that? Or are you incapable?” Those words shot through your body again, a throb now resonating through your lower half. Shit. Your underwear was getting soaked by the second, your heartbeat racing faster than it had before. “I—I’m capable,” you nodded once again, clearly expressing your excitement. You took her glare with another gulp, clearing your throat. “… mistress.” You couldn’t help the way your thighs rubbed together, despite being confined in your pants, it still provided some stimulation to your needy body. You were halted by the rough push and insertion of her prosthetic between them, the wheel poking the seam. The sudden pressure over your crotch made your hips jerk onto it, eager to chase the feeling. Isa’s palm suddenly pressed onto your lower stomach disapprovingly, enough to stop you. “Nein. I will not tell you again. You receive what I give.” Her knee rifled over your clothed, wet pussy, eager to make a mess of you before your pants came off. You let out a strangled yet needy whine, a soft moaning escaping your lips as her free hand returned to your collar, the pull only making you hornier. “I want this off. All of it. Go,” Isa demanded, releasing you again to watch you. You immediately got to work with taking off your shirt, the cold breeze of the air conditioning erecting goosebumps where it assaulted your skin, but you were sure it would heat up quickly. You threw your shirt onto the other side of the bed. “Bra,” she gestured, rewarding you with another firm few circles with her knee along your covered pussy. The texture was fucking amazing, but you bit back a moan in an attempt to make yourself seem under control. Your hips betrayed you with a sudden stutter along the plastic. You reached back for the clasp of your bra expertly, ignoring the wave of pain in your shoulder from that earlier bruising. You removed the cotton, dropping the strings down your arms and letting your breasts fall free, nipples already pebbled. Isa gave you a quick pinch over one, making you yelp. Your clit twitched as she pushed her prosthetic into it. “Good. Getting antsy?” She had some nerve to ask you that. But she shifted to use both of her hands to work you, rolling your nipples between her fingers. Your palms twitched you grab her.

“Yes, mistress…” you muttered meekly. Of course, you wanted so much more. “Fine. Get down, on your knees. Do not waste time,” Isa’s hands hooked around your thighs, pulling you back towards her and partially onto her lap for a moment, before settling you on the ground where you sat by her legs. Her fingers bunched into your hair, dragging you forward until your cheek was able to rest on her inner thigh. She spread her legs to accommodate you, still sat high on the mattress like your queen, and you were just the puppy. The racer sat back slightly, staring down at you. You really were like a pet for her to teach to do tricks. “Undo me. Hurry,” the racer muttered monotonously. You nodded once again, your shaky hands attaching themselves onto Isa’s belt, the cold metal a sharp contrast to your overheating skin. You flicked the metal prong, sliding the leather strap from the loops. She made it graciously easier on you by lifting her weight, letting you pull her pants down easier. “You know what your tongue is for. Go on,” Isa suddenly encouraged, spreading her thighs further and letting your fingers slide beneath her dark underwear, already plagued with a dark spot, pulling until it pooled at her ankles. “Do not make me wait. Then, you might get your reward. But do well for me first.” Hesitantly tracing her thighs, you held on carefully. You’ve never eaten someone out before, but another impatient tug on your hair brought you closer. You flicked out your tongue for a small kitten lick of her clit. She groaned, more frustrated. “Unless you want nothing at all, then I suggest you pick up the pace,” Isa huffed, now cursed with want. Swelling with more confidence, your hands wrapped around Isa’s hips, keeping her in reach as your tongue stuck out of your mouth, sloppily licking around her wet slit, nose lightly nestled into her pelvis and giving it a tiny nuzzle. The racer hissed with her thighs growing more tense around you with the tongue of your moist tongue. Isa instinctively pressed your head more firmly between her legs, and your mouth hitched onto her clit instead, visibly pulsing with need. Your lips wrapped around to suck her off, the tip of your tongue swirling around that bud of pleasure locked inside your mouth. She let out a soft moan this time and moved to cradle the back of your head, those sounds so very foreign to your ears. It encouraged you to go even farther. Your eyes peeked open to look up at her, seeing her visibly blissed out as you ate her out. The bucking of her hips and increasing volume warned you how utterly close she was getting to spilling in your mouth. Her soft moans were fuel to the fire, burning the flame of pleasure inside of you even brighter.

Isa, laying down with you in the middle of the night as she lazily, tiredly tries pushing you away as you keep smothering and scooting to cuddle her. Her force isn't enough to deter you because she doesn't care enough to push harder, only enough to shove you back on your side of the bed. A little annoying fly isn't worth her energy right now when she has to win tomorrow. 

Eventually, she relents and rolls onto her back after enough nagging, eyes squinting with fatigue in her eyes as she lets you lay over her torso. Her voice gets unimaginably soft when she's exhausted, her accent more obvious when she speaks to you. It's almost cute.  

"Geh weg... ugh." 

There's a new, freshly bandaged gash on her side as your hands smooth over her toned abdomen, as she doesn't sleep with a shirt on. You know where that wound comes from, though Isa has a lot of wounds that she doesn't tell you about, nor does she want you to fuss over because they're "irrelevant" and a "given" with the bloodsport. She swats you away though, in hopes you'll recognize the darkness outside and realize it's time to leave her alone. 

This one is deeper than what she'd normally come home with. The moonlight makes it easy to see the stripes of the newly patched section of her side as it streams through the window. You're able to get a glimpse of a lot of her scars this way, straddled over her waist like this.  

One, of course, now made its home on the side of her stomach. You couldn't see it to its full extent yet because of the bandage, but you're sure it's going to leave a mark. Your palm lightly grazed the frayed edges of the wraps, earning yourself a grunt from the racer. Your eyes looked up.  

The area was still irritated, and of course, the last thing she would do is tell someone. Your spine bent to get your face closer to her stomach, and her palm suddenly stuck itself on your forehead, a small nudge away. 

"... was machst du eigentlich?" 

With gentle insistence, Isa reluctantly retracts her hand, letting it fall back down at her side. She was still annoyed with you, but she was half-asleep and clearly not as strict as she would be if she was wide awake. She looks about ready to close her eyes. 

Your lips then connected onto her skin just beside the bandage, her body jolting with the surprisingly moist contact of your kiss. You could even see the goosebumps that were beginning to form over her pale arm, seemingly ready to push you away again. Her fingers flexed where it laid near your thigh. 

Another scar sat on her shoulder, jagged as a result of a clumsy slash. Your thumb strokes around the mark, it having the audacity to still look angry after all these years. You can recall the day she came back with it, she hadn’t even treated it yet. You insisted on helping her wrap it up. She ended up forced to sit on the toilet while you fetched the first aid kit, more to soothe your worries more than it was by obedience.  

Isa was anything but obedient. 

Her half-lidded eyes traced your descent again until you pecked your lips over that vicious scar. The air conditioning made the kiss cooler once you pulled back, something she didn’t like the feeling from. She didn’t like shivering. She was also growing more exhausted as you went on, your kisses soft and gentle enough to prickle against her skin like subtle electric shocks. 

The most obvious, prideful mark was on her face. The long, horizontal injury that stemmed from the side of her face until it weakened its rampage just past her nose, resembling a lightning strike. Her face scrunches as you carefully cup her cheek, but otherwise makes no movement to wiggle away. You’re surprised she doesn’t.  

Why is she letting you touch her so unrestrictively?  

It’s not like she’s clueless. She knows what you’re preparing to do, the same as the other prominent marks on her body. She just isn't moving. You were ready for a swat, maybe a comment, but you weren't getting anything. You’re only aware that she’s still watching you by the way her fingers clamp around your thigh, her thumb absently stroking your skin. 

Both of your hands drift to her face, settling on both cheeks respectively. You used a finger to tentatively drag along the side of Isa’s face in the direction of her scar, from the side of her face, over her nose, then to the sharp point where it ends. Her warm breath collided with your own in the darkness. 

Softly, you pressed your lips into the beginning point of the mark, continuously dotting the ravaged scar from one point to the other to cover it wholly. Peeking your eyes open before planting another above her nose, Isa briefly shuts her eyes. You don’t know if it’s reflex, or maybe she was waiting for an opportunity to fall into the sweet embrace of sleep. Either way, you continue until you reach the last stretch of the pinkish, marred skin, finally lifting your lips from the sharp point where the scar ends with a small “mm.”  

You were starting to wish you did this with lipstick on. 

You now sit back slightly to look at Isa’s face entirely. She’s a lot more relaxed this way. The tension in her face doesn’t exist in bed like it does during a game. You don’t think anyone has seen Isa like this except for you. Her hands suddenly slide up your waist, opening her eyes again. So she wasn’t asleep after all.

“Do you feel honored yet?” She asked, now using light force to pull you back down onto her. It was difficult to rival her strength, so you did. Her eyes gleamed. 

“Honored to touch you? Yes,” you responded. She seemed to take that, because the next moment, Isa rolled you right over to your back, submerging you in the fluffy covers and flipping you around until you were facing away from her. You were abruptly reeled back in with her arm thrown over your waist, hooking and bringing you backwards into her body into a comfortable spooning position.  

Her chin was placed over your shoulder, the warmth of her body bled into your back. Clearly, your reign of dominance was over, and now Isa had executed her plan to use you as her thing to get comfortable on. The hairs on the back of your neck struck upwards as she pressed her own kiss to the crook of your neck. You had the urge to jerk forward as she blew on it. 

DATING.

- It’s rare for anyone to catch her eye, especially in a romantic context. It’s no surprise that Tressa prefers to keep to herself. Everyone is either too boisterous or just isn’t her cup of tea (haha please laugh).

- Whether you’re another legend or a regular person, it doesn’t change her anxiousness when it comes to talking to you. Even that is stressful.

- Tressa is by far the most awkward, standoffish, yet most outspoken person ever. It feels like all those terms contradict themselves.

- She won’t know immediately what it is about you that attracts her, but it’s likely your personality more than anything. She values the soul more than the body. She likes people that are as passionate and empathetic as she is.

- Tressa begins watching you and your mannerisms a lot more closely. Normally, she doesn’t care what other people are doing around her. It isn’t her business. But...

- How do you treat animals?

- How do you treat the people around you?

- Are you working towards something big?

- Are you empathetic?

- These are the kinds of questions she internally asks herself. She wants to make sure you are the person she wants, and that she isn’t just imagining you in the wrong light because she might be in love.

- At first, she likes to deny the whole crush because it would mean she’ll actually have to talk about her feelings at some point.

- Thankfully, she has that facial guard to hide her blush.

- It doesn’t actually do much.

- After she begrudgingly accepts that she has a little crush, she consults her girlfriends. Since they know Tressa best, it’s obvious they’d want to get a scoop.

- They’ll stalk your social media pages if you have any and point out anything interesting they find. If you’re a legend, they pay more attention to the points you’re on camera.

- Tressa tells them not to, but it’s inevitable. She gets super embarrassed, but you’ll never know it happened unless she tells you.

- Which she won’t. That's actually just too embarrassing.

- But to date her, you have to be at least cool with her friends. If you’re not, it creates tension. Tressa would never pick a new romantic partner over her longtime friends.

- She also just... isn’t comfortable having to pick and choose between the people that matter most to her just because they don’t get along. And Tressa trusts her friends’ judgements a lot considering they've been stuck like glue for so long.

- They’ll absolutely want to meet you at some point before you officially end up dating. They care a lot about her. They just want to get a look at you personally, get to know you, and see if theres annnyyyyyythingggg about you that Tressa missed...

- Which she also won’t. Tressa is too observant for missing something that would make you incompatible. They’re just protective.

- They’re like giddy teenagers. That’s the best way to describe them.

- You can bet that Tressa will offer you a casual tarot reading. As good of a reader as she is, she wants a read into your soul. Just a peek.

- Definitely fumbles the cards at least once.

- But hey, she can do card tricks. She’s good with her hands.

- Even if tarot and/or astrology isn’t totally your thing, indulging Tressa in her hobbies is a quick way to get to her heart. Show her interest and she’s happy to share.

- And cooking. Cooking is a good way to get to her heart. Tressa doesn’t like to cook at all, so she’d really appreciate someone who does so she doesn’t have to rely on her finger food “meals” all the time. Acts of service is the best way to get to her. It shows that you care enough to do the things that she dislikes to keep the stress from her.

- Once the initial realization that she has a crush is over and she knows she wants to keep seeing you, she makes subtle requests to hang out.

- If you’re a legend and engineering your own gear, she asks if you could come "check out" a small kink in her ferrofluid gauntlets or the apparatus. Of course there isn’t actually an issue with them, as she’s a fantastic engineer herself, but she purposefully misaligns something to make it seem that way so you can come look at them and fix it yourself.

- She blushes if you mention how well they’re made. Because they really are. She just laughs it off and says it’s nothing special. Just—

- “—a craft I’ve mastered. You can even call it witchcraft…”

- She’s a bit surprised if you ask her to show something off with her ferrofluid. Making a mold or something. Of course she'll do it... she knows that she’s good at it, really good, but her hands will shake anyway. She suddenly forgets how to move her fingers properly and ends up dropping it.

- It’s much easier for her to manage if you’re a legend. After all, she sees you every single day.

- She takes in everything that you say. She doesn’t forget even the smallest details of what you tell her.

- For example, if you like a specific kind of chocolate in passing, she might go out of her way to snag some and casually “forget” that she grabbed chocolate that she doesn’t like because the label seemed similar, giving it to you instead in a small, "you can have it..."

- She tries to be cool. She really does. And on the outside, it seems like she is. But internally she’s burning up. She’s not calm, and a touch to her pulse would prove that.

- She has an awfully pale face too. One blush and it’s over for her. It’s easy for her to get flustered.

- She heavily values speaking out against injustice, and she would hope for her partner to do the same. She’s the kind of person to speak up if someone around her was being harassed, knowing them or not. She’s a pay it forward kind of person when it comes to her kindness.

- She’s too awkward to admit she wants to hang out of the blue, however. She wants to build a friendship with you before jumping to any outside activities from the Apex Games. She doesn’t want you to know that she likes you that way yet.

- Once she deems your friendship to be close enough, she finally asks you to “hang out” outside of work, which is the translated version of “let’s go on a date.” She does this a few times.

- During those casual dates, Tressa takes the opportunity to know you a lot better. She asks you questions. Some may relate to personality, some might relate to your hobbies. It helps her get a read on you and understand things like why you joined the Apex Games, if you’re a legend. It isn’t a light decision.

- Is it for fame? Money? Adrenaline? Hurting people? She hopes not. Tressa dislikes violence.

- As it gets more casual, Tressa then decides on a date to specifically ask if you’d want to get into a relationship with her. Of course, she doesn’t tell you the purpose of the date. You’re under the impression that it’s casual again.

- She would eventually settle at somewhere to eat, but not a full-fledged restaurant, because that’s too obvious. Somewhere light, like an ice cream shop or something.

- This is one of the only times out of her entire career she hopes not to get asked for autographs.

- You can expect her to order something just so she can hide her face behind it, barely focused on actually eating. She’ll remember what you order, though. She remembers random things for a disgustingly long time.

- She builds up to it slowly. Her questions get gradually more personal as she goes on. If you humor her and answer truthfully, she continues.

- Her confidence builds as she speaks, and her nerves dissipate slightly. Once it gets darker outside, she leaves and guides you somewhere.

- You’re not allowed to ask where. You’re just reminded to be patient, she can't spoil a surprise.

- It’ll be a place that’s easy to stargaze at and somewhere away from people. She specifically waits for the moon to peek out. Maybe it's a luck charm, maybe she just likes the vibe.

- She’ll sit with you on the rocks, before asking you to give her your hands. Nothing crazy just yet, just hands. You don’t realize what she reaches into her pocket for until you’re already taken by both the wrists.

- Her thumbs trace over the lines of your palms for a second, before putting them together and placing something in your hands you aren’t able to see yet. She was still covering it, but you felt the shape. Something rigid. She begins with light conversation again.

- “There’s something I have been meaning to ask you…”

- Tressa slowly loosens her grip over your hands, letting you see for yourself what she had given you.

- “I would be lying if I said you haven’t meant a lot to me besides just.. being friends…”

- Her words hold reverence, a peek into the want that she harbors. She isn’t good with her words like she is with her actions. At least with her actions, she can just do it.

- “That label never stuck with me. I… didn’t know why.”

- It’s a crystal in your hands, bathed in a soft pink. The edges were sharp on your palms.

- “… this crystal represents new beginnings and the strengthening of current relationships. I think it fits for what I want to say...”

- Tressa might avert her eyes to the side. She’s really bad at this. She wants to curl up and explode right now. How can she sound like she actually knows what she’s doing?

- Or maybe that’s the charm of it. Doing things you’re bad at because you’re in love.

- She’s so corny, even if she doesn’t say it.

- “I want to start something new with you. You’re special to me. And I’m.. uh.. realizing that we’ve gone far beyond a normal friendship now… so.. please. I want you to be mine.”

- Her words kind of come out in a landslide. She doesn’t know what she’s saying anymore besides pouring out her heart.

- Accepting her, she’s quite literally over the moon. She hugs you immediately and it’s hard to peel away. It’s all written in the stars for her.

RELATIONSHIP.

- Extremely chill to hang around with. Tressa enjoys comfortable silence where neither of you feel required to speak to each other.

- Her home is very cozy. Candles, crystals, books, and very witchy decor. She has Halloween decor that she keeps all year long.

- She even has a stereotypical black cat. She’s just as standoffish and wary of people as Tressa is, so it takes a while for her to warm up to you. She blends in with the couch, so you’ll have to be careful not to sit on her. She bites.

- Tressa enjoys dramas, so you can expect her to be constantly on the couch and curled up with a cup of something warm. She sleeps on the couch more than she likes to admit, but she calls it a nap.

- Movie night is every night. She thinks schedules are bullshit.

- She’ll lay down on your lap if you’re next to her. She slumps on you a lot no matter where you are. Standing, sitting, lying down. Tressa will find a way to use you as a pillow. She uses your butt too.

- She’d really appreciate it if you cooked for her. She’s embarrassed to admit that she often doesn’t cook for herself because it’s too tedious and slow to do. Not to mention she messes it up and gets annoyed. Her kitchen is a mess. No matter what you cook, she’ll eat it anyway. She’s just grateful.

- Tressa doesn’t really get jealous at all. She trusts you enough that you won’t run off with someone else. She doesn’t have a real reason to be jealous. She’s transparent, and she expects the same from you. She’s very honest.

- If you have an issue, she expects you to bring it up instead of beating around the bush. She likes blunt words that make things clear if there’s something wrong, and you both can talk through it.

- You’ll have to get used to seeing her casually walking around at home with her full ferrofluid gear on, gauntlets, tubes, and that apparatus. She usually does it just so she doesn’t have to unhook everything just for a snack. Who cares if she accidentally nibbles a little on the ferrofluid residue on her gloves?

- Please don’t eat ferrofluid.

- She lets you do her makeup if she’s not in a rush. Whether you want to perch up on her lap or hover over her, she doesn’t mind. Her hands will usually land on your hips to keep you steady.

- She’ll blush if you change in front of her or expose your undergarment(s), no matter how long you’ve been together. She feels obligated to turn around, even if you insist she doesn’t have to and she’s seen you naked dozens of times.

- She’s very unapologetically clique. She makes a lot of cheesy jokes and references, but a lot of her time it’s just her tone that makes it so endearing to hear.

- She retains her usual demeanor all day, comes home, and deflates. She’ll sit and complain with you about what she has to deal with while you unwind with her. She loves it if you help her unbuckle everything, because that means she can sit back and melt into the couch.

- She’ll love you to death if you run her a bath after a hard day and help her with her various cuts and bruises. She gets them fairly often.

- She also gives and appreciates really good massages. She has all kinds of oils and creams for it too. Her hands are perfect for the job.

- MUSCULAR BACK. PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE LISTEN TO ME ON THIS ONE. SHE HAS IT. I SAW IT. I WAS THERE. PLEASE. If you praise her muscles, she burns up, because it’s the last thing she expects. Her body is impressive from all that blue collar work she’s done for Cleo, and her upper body is strongly built. She’s not bulgingly muscular to the point she looks like a full-time body builder, but it’s obvious if she’s bare.

- If she gets sick, she’s the most concerning patient to take care of. She barely gets up unless she’s going to the bathroom.

- Sometimes she sleeps so still you might have to check her pulse to make sure she’s still breathing. Sleeps like she’s already been taken by the common cold. She’s so lazy.

- Even if she doesn’t want them herself, she’s very gentle with children that come up to her. She sees them as the future to be protected.

- But she will also awkwardly stand there if they end up crawling all over her like a jungle gym, pulling on her gear and grabbing at her hands. She just sighs and accepts her fate until someone wrangles them off.

- Of course, Tressa loves doing readings with you. Tea leaves, tarot, and palm readings are her one true love beside you.

- Even outside of palm readings, she likes touching your hands, especially if you work in something that requires precision and craftsmanship. If your palms are ticklish, you might have issues with that.

- Tressa has a lot of books, some of them being the same book but with a different cover. She’ll get annoyed if she asks you to pick something specific out for her and you grab the wrong edition out of the other dozen. She gets really sassy in a relationship, but in a very lovey way.

- She would never let you put yourself down. Ever. It turns into a lecture where you’re unique in your own way and that it’s disrespect to her that you even say that.

- Overall, a very gentle lazy girlfriend in a relationship, but only if you’re nice to her. She can get a lot meaner if she’s nudged around, but of course, never in a way to actually hurt your feelings.

- Tressa will absolutely show off with her ferrofluid.

The leather hugging the metal of Tressa’s gauntlet lightly smacked against her wrist as she tugged it on, eager to test it after a few more tweaks she had made. She wasn’t totally used to the new changes, so she was recalibrating herself again. Her eyes fixated on the rotating glob of iron escaping from her gauntlet’s side, spewing into the thin air and hovering over her open palm.

“I can make anything if I focus enough. It’s a matter of mentality,” Tressa began, working two fingers in tandem to fold the ferrofluid into itself, molding from a deformed ball of putty into an oval. “But you can call it magic.”

You watched in awe as the oval suddenly flattened with a squeeze of the witch’s fist, extending two fingers to split the flattened pancake into two, then four different patties attached to one another by a common angle.

Tressa was fixated on the structure, her fingers barely moving to stretch the liquid to create a shape resembling a butterfly’s four wings. She formatted the thin abdomen with another firm press, then sat the thicker thorax just on top. She added the final touch with a small extension of two antennae. The final mold sat hovered over her palm, drifted into your vision.

So these new tweaks were working for her. She was having an easier time controlling the retention of the ferrofluid’s mold—

SPLAT!

“Uh,” was the first thing out of Tressa’s mouth, “oops.”

This time, Mara totally doesn't know what she's doing. Getting with someone was already a huge throw-off for her, but sex was another thing. She didn't realize how big of a role it played.

You'd have to bring it up first, hopefully before you end up needy and asking her on the spot.

It sounded awfully simple to her. You had to feel good and release hormones which therefore equaled to emotional and intimate connection to feel closer to your partner. But doesn't she already do that?

Unsurprisingly, she’s a virgin with zero experience. She knows what reproduction and the stuff down there is, though. She isn’t totally left in the dark. It’s better than expected for someone who never took sex ed.

If you’re also inexperienced, you might just be out of luck.

Unless you’re a huge experimentalist, because Mara is unreliable to give the reigns to. You’ll have to lead, at least in the beginning, until she gets comfortable doing her own thing.

She’s very free to experiment and try new things in bed with you. She’s lenient. She wants to understand why this is important to you.

The only obstacle is her curious mind constantly questioning everything. She doesn’t even think of the question before she says it, and she doesn’t have a filter either.

She’s awful with timing. You can expect her to say something wildly blunt out of nowhere.

Remind her to shower beforehand. Please. Mara please shower.

At first, Mara has NO clue where her hands should go. If you’re on top of her, her hands will awkwardly hover over your sides until you guide her on where to hold you. Over time, she automatically holds the underside of your thighs or around your waist depending on how you’re positioned.

She has a tendency to hold on very tightly. You have to remind her to loosen your grip, especially if you bruise easily.

Unless you’re into that.

Mara likes it when you’re sat on her lap. She makes for a good cushion, and you make for a good lap warmer.

She likes it if you ride her thigh, especially because her gear makes it feel much better to grind over. Even without it, she likes the look on your face while she’s loosely holding your waist. She occasionally pulls you forward to test the waters, but otherwise lets you do the work. Just a little grinding could do that to you?

It serves to interest her quick.

She’s more of an admirer at first. She likes to watch before she acts. It helps her learn as well.

Gradually, she gets the hang of the motion with fingering, though with some guidance on where to lift and stroke.

She finds it surprising how sensitive some places are and experiments with them on you, often on a whim.

Her fingers are pretty big. It’s a stretch.

She’s really into picking you up. She’s got a lot of strength. On a table, counter, lap, whatever. She likes you being sat somewhere while she keeps your legs open with her body.

She has the strength to pick you up and eat you out against a wall. Just saying.

She’s not exactly submissive, but she isn’t too dominating either. She doesn’t want you totally helpless because she thinks it’s a little mean, but she also doesn’t hate the thought of keeping you restrained.

So, she likes using one hand to keep both your wrists together while the other works between your thighs.

She has a lot of stamina. She’s a competitor in a bloodsport, of course she does. You’re often worn out before she is, but it doesn’t mean she isn’t satisfied. She teases you for being so tired so quickly.

It’s a bit difficult to turn her on, only because she doesn’t get aroused very often at all. Making out is an easy way to go, though. She likes it if you crawl all over her.

She doesn’t get turned on if she sees you naked. She doesn’t see the body as something to only get aroused by, but she stares a lot more.

In addition to liking to hold you, she likes holding you over her face. She’ll push your thighs down when you get overstimulated and try to wiggle away.

She doesn’t understand overstimulation until you explain it.

She likes gripping thighs. She’s a thigh person. She likes feeling around fatty places to hold onto, but that doesn’t mean she’d be less attracted to a skinnier partner.

She doesn’t really use toys. She prefers things natural and without silicone in the way.

She likes predator/prey aspects, excluding the violent parts. She'd never actually hunt and shoot you with her rifle.

She doesn’t have an issue with having sex outdoors, especially being away from society. She likes being alone with you, and isn’t an exhibitionist.

And she doesn’t want other people seeing you naked either. She’d rather fight a prowler with her bare hands.

Not a quickie person, mostly. She’s whipped if she’s putting this kind of effort in for you, so she wants to take her time.

Please don’t trust her with dirty talk. Sometimes, she inadvertently dirty talks, but she doesn’t know how much some words can turn you on.

She’s a giver more than a receiver. She doesn’t mind anything you do to her, it all turns her on all the same. She lasts a long time, though.

Mara grunts more than moans, and she likes it if you grab onto her. She’s pretty grabby herself.

Incredibly sensitive, no matter how many times or where you touch her. She jolts at any touch around her nipples.

Her aftercare mostly just consists of cuddling and whatever she has around in the room, or in her backpack if you’re outside.

If you’re sore and outside, she’ll tilt her head and ask you to try getting up to continue on. If you can’t, she finally relents and picks you up, swinging you over her shoulder like a sack of potatoes until you’re steady enough to stand on your own.

Echo is sent away to go nibble on grass or something if it’s an outdoors thing. He doesn’t need to see that. He comes back with a whistle.

You saw it coming the moment your fingers hastily hooked onto your waistband and shoved down your pants to being half-sagged down to just below your knees. You didn’t take them all the way off when you were this desperate, and not when Mara was waiting for you to lower yourself down onto her face. It was hard to think clearly when you were so horny and in a middle of a forest where nobody would find you doing something downright stupid. Who has sex in a forest?

You. Apparently.

Throwing a leg over Mara’s waist to straddle her, your knees dug roughly into the mixture of dirt and gravel of the pathway, a contrast to the gentle hands that had found their way to your hips, urging you forward towards her lips. Mara tentatively licked her lips, mouth only slightly open as you hovered over her, patiently waiting for the prize that was nestled between your thighs.

“Climb higher! I can’t get you from down there, you know, and… you wanted this… so,” Mara encouraged with a tap of her thumb, and you obliged. You were going to climb higher anyway. “Get up?”

“I am, I am,” you replied, a touch needy.

You shimmied your legs until you were above her face, careful not to smother her or anything. She lowered to palm your thighs now, her grip tightening over the soft, plentiful skin. The warmth of her skin made your thighs open more freely. She just ran so warm.

“Alright. Is this—mngh! Jeez, Mara!—“

She suddenly yanked you down with her fingers crossed over your thighs, effectively locking you in place as your hands aggressively rushed to bunch into the bundles of grass above her visor, gripping wildly tight at the abrupt tug and contact with your pussy.

Your thighs tensed ridiculously fast once her tongue pressed flat against your wetness, her hands readjusting to keep you from squirming too much. Mara stroked her tongue up and down your pussy for a few seconds, growing used to the motion that forced heaves from your lungs. The tip of her tongue then curled around your clit, flicking it to the side once.

You hissed, legs squeezing her waist tightly as they attempted to close. They began to shake steadily under the assault. Your hand moved from the grass to Mara’s dark hair, admiring the gorgeous strands beneath your fingers before clutching a bundle of it into your palm, lightly pulling. A little “mmh” escaped her from where she was voluntarily trapped, vibrating through you.

The pressure on her scalp encouraged her to go further, driving her tongue between the folds of your pussy and dragging along the moist canal, where it tapped just barely against your g-spot. The bucking of your hips signaled what she wanted to find.

You should’ve expected Mara to be relentless. That was your mistake to think she’d go easy on you after all that whining on the hiking trail.

She met your eyes for just a second before thrusting her tongue back inside of you, repeatedly kissing around the area of your g-spot until your eyes clenched shut, the white-hot pleasure shooting through your lower abdomen like a lightning strike. Goosebumps erected rapidly along your exposed skin.

Even after you came, she didn’t leave it alone. Her large hands kept you firmly attached to her face like a barnacle, even as you squirmed. Her tongue continued swiping around your pussy until she finally loosened her hands, letting you lift yourself up on shaky legs, sitting back against her lower waist and relaxing. Your legs felt awfully numb after that.

You lightly smacked her wrist. Lightly.

“That’s for—that! Jeez, Mara. You really want to keep me from using my legs, or what?” You asked, now aiming to catch your breath.

The survivalist just shrugged, not thinking much of it as she licked off some of the juices on her face with a few flicks of her tongue. Besides, you’d made it clear what you liked with her. Who would deny more pleasure?

“What? You asked me to! You’re confusing.”

“You!—oh. Thanks,” you replied somewhat sheepishly, reaching out to slowly take the small plastic bag of food she offered you. It was jerky. Jerky! Not that you disliked it, though. It was nice that she handed it to you.

After a few minutes of nibbling on it, she grew bored of lying down.

“So. Can you get up now?” Mara asked curiously.

“You’re funny.”

As kind as she is, Mary isn’t too great with an actual romantic relationship. 

It takes a lot for her to let someone in, so you’ll have to be patient with her. Her priority will always be her son and the work she’s done to time travel, so it leaves little room for a partner. 

She’s a lot better as a friend because she can control the times that she sees you and when she doesn’t, when she’s okay and when she's not. Since Newton, she isn’t used to the same person being around her this often, even at home or when she’s working. 

She isn’t used to someone knowing every little thing about her. It makes her a little uncomfortable at first, having difficulty fully trusting people since Reid had flung her. 

Once she gets the late gist that you might be in love with her, Mary’s mind rings the emergency sirens and will start hinting to you that she may not be available as a romantic partner very often for you and that she’s dealing with her own issues that you might not want to get into. 

She understands that it’s a dealbreaker, and even if she reciprocates, she values your mental health too much and will let you go if you don’t want to keep seeing her. 

Upon getting into the relationship, you’ll get into the meat of things that other people miss about her. She isn’t as cheerful as she seems while in the ring, out of the ring. 

She’s afraid to lose someone again, and her trauma led to chronic depression so ingrained in her mentality that it strains your relationship. It’s mostly suppressed, but it bubbles up when she's alone.

She doesn’t appreciate her feelings being poked repeatedly, if you ask her about them. She can have a short fuse and become irritable if she’s pressed about a topic she’s already upset about, but she'll always feel extremely guilty if she snaps. 

It can make her jump sometimes if you walk up behind her to touch her or say something without her noticing you first. She likes a warning. 

She’s just gotten so used to the silence of being alone besides having NEWT, but even then, deep down, she knows it isn’t her son. 

Her ADHD can be a double-edged sword for her. She can either work for hours without eating or sleeping, or she doesn’t work at all. She appreciates presence and bits of physical touch as it calms her down. 

She likes words of affirmation and quality time with a sprinkle of acts of service, though she loves them all.  

Mary takes your words seriously. She needs reassurance that she's doing things right and that her vision isn’t just tunneled into her work, shutting you and everyone else out. 

Besides the romantic bit of affirmation, she also appreciates second opinions from you on things, even if they’re small and irrelevant like contrasting two different colored shirts. 

If not in bed, she can often be found dead asleep at her desk, surrounded by papers she never bothers to organize. Somehow, she knows where everything is but knows where nothing is at the same time. 

She’d find it sweet if you either gently shook her awake and helped her to bed or draped a blanket over her. She’ll be out like a light anyway. 

Bonus points if you have the strength to carry her out. 

She’s a night owl. She’ll overstay her time in the lab if it means scribbling down just one more equation, because it’ll nag at her if she doesn’t.  

Knowing it’s impossible to drag her out, it helps to bring her snacks or a small bowl of fruit. She doesn’t expect it, so it’s a neat surprise for her sleep addled brain.  

With how pale her face is, she definitely gets a little red. 

Speaking of facial features, her freckles are adorable up close. She'll get flustered if you start counting them or excessively talking about them. 

She likes it if you play with her hands or hair when she’s just sitting around doing nothing. It helps keep her mind on something. 

She’ll also let you draw on the palm of her hand/glove, but it’s hard for her to keep it still sometimes. 

The kind of person to roll over in bed in the middle of the night to search for a question that’s been bouncing around in her head, or she can't sleep.

She tries not to work in bed as per your request, but she keeps a notepad on her nightstand. Sometimes you hear small scribbles in the middle of the night. 

Probably angles her writing to the moonlight of the window to see what the hell she’s even writing. Either that, or she goes off of feeling. Usually that feeling ends up with chicken scratch handwriting she can’t read.  

She doodles in the margins of papers. 

Gets occasional nightmares. She doesn’t really tell you what they're about, but you can guess what it is by the way she reacts. She keeps an old photo of Newton on her nightstand. 

She likes a steady weight, your hand usually being on her arm, to reassure her that she’s just fine when she wakes up. On worse nights, she gets up to walk and pace before coming back and trying again. Or she works. 

Sometimes she’ll invite you with her to stargaze, sharing a thermos. She doesn’t mind drinking from the same side. 

She rambles if you let her. If you ask her anything related to physics or astronomy, she’s already going on and on about it down to the molecular level of theories of things in the known universe. If you humor her, she can go on for hours. 

She’ll let you touch and style her hair if you want, but it always returns to her original look. She’s always fighting with it. 

Loves flurries of kisses, either giving or receiving, particularly on the face and top of your head. She’ll comment on your shampoo of choice if she smells anything strong.  

Lots of pet names. She rarely ever calls you by your actual name. Petal, dear, and love work just fine. 

Sensitive nose and sneezes quite a bit. She actually gets sick pretty easily too, but she doesn’t like being treated like a baby. You have to wrestle her so she stays in bed and lets you do things for her. 

If you get sick, she’s memorized a few medicinal recipes, primarily soup, that she can make for you. Mary also overloads you with pounds of blankets if you’re cold. She has those old grandma looking ones.  

She’s a hypocrite when it comes to sickness. She doesn’t like it when you nag her, but she has no issues in nagging you. 

“Do you think you could survive if you fell into a black hole? Hypothetically," you asked, breaking the comfortable silence of Mary’s lab. She had been stuck at the whiteboard for the past few minutes, tapping the back of her red marker onto her chin. The board was a mess of scribbles and equations, “Mary?” 

“Dearie, it isn’t really a hypothetical if I actually bested a black hole. Ye know this.” 

The astrophysicist snorted, turning to lightly bonk the top of your head with the back of her marker, sounding a small “ow” from you. It hadn’t been a dumb question when you first thought of it. She hadn’t fallen all the way in, just in orbit, so you didn’t think it counted as falling in. 

“But you didn’t fall in. You were just in orbit! What if you actually fell in?” 

Mary shrugged. Even now, it wasn’t truly known what would happen if you slipped into a black hole. Well. Besides the obvious dying. 

“Well,” she lifted her marker, swirling it around in the air as she prepared to draw you a small picture for you at the corner of the whiteboard. She began with a circle, then drew one too many rings wrapping around it until the ink began erasing itself with the repetition, she drew an arrow towards the outer rings, “I’d probably swoop in through there, that wee accretion disc...” 

Mary then made a point to scribble the central circle darker, symbolizing the singularity. She drew another arrow at the edge of the circle, labeling it the event horizon. She then drew a bigger arrow into the middle of the dark circle. 

“Then I bounce my bum to the point of no return, get sucked in and turn meself into some premium spaghetti,” Mary stood back, admiring her work that was no better than two stick figures, but it got the job done, “uh, the word. There’s a word for it... ah...” 

“Spaghettification?"

Isa isn’t really used to being around shy people. Redline had hammered people into being tough and competitive... so... she doesn't meet many people like you. Much less get into a relationship with someone who’s shy.  

She might’ve overlooked you if you had been any quieter. 

She’ll start calling you her “maus,” German for mouse, in and out of bed to mess with you. If you ask her to stop, she won’t. She likes reminding you of your place. 

She’d actually enjoy a shy partner more than one that is like her. It's more fun for her to press a few buttons and embarrass you under her.

Isa is a total power dom whether you’re shy or not. She always wants to be more dominant than you no matter what position you two are in, as long as she’s in control of your pleasure. 

She likes topping, though will bottom rarely. But that doesn’t mean you’re actually in control.  

Generally is more of a receiver in the beginning, but gradually becomes more into a giver. 

Tit person all the way. She likes to grab and squeeze them, pinching your nipple whenever she feels like it. She’ll do it randomly to keep you on your toes, or to remind you to stay focused. The more sensitive you are to that, the better. 

Likes to pinch in general, whatever skin she’s touching. She uses it to teach you what she likes and how she wants you to act. 

Isa enjoys the learning process of you. A lot. 

She isn’t really into anything too pain related besides pinching, but she naturally has a strong grip, and it often leaves bruises wherever she's holding. So, she leaves marks no matter what. 

She’s normally not one for any public displays at all, but if bruises make you nervous to go out in public with, she might double down and leave more, as long as it doesn’t lower her own reputation. 

If she’s feeling playful with you, she likes to deny or edge your orgasm to make you work for it. 

I.e., Begging. Good luck staying shy. 

Doesn’t appreciate being ordered around. She’s cocky out of her mind. 

She’ll make you thank her afterwards, but her aftercare is decent. She offers water and lingers for a little while. 

Really good (mostly) at hiding her desires from you and can hold herself back for weeks. If being shy means you’re scared to bring up your sexual drive or what you want, she’ll literally make you wait until you grow desperate enough and tell her, because she knows she won’t be the first. 

She takes vocal cues as affirmations that she’s doing you right. She doesn’t like you being shy in her bed because she’ll want noise out of you. Being quiet with her means you aren’t appreciating her efforts. 

100% into power play. 

Uses that finger-tongue combo when she’s eating out and will more than likely shove those fingers in your mouth afterwards. 

Likes to overstimulate just because it gives her a reason to tease you. 

She likes to see you cry.

Likes thigh riding, but only if you’re the one on her thigh. The wheel on her knee does wonders. 

Heavy tongue usage. She likes going down on you, especially if you’re shy about physical affection in private as well. 

Face sitting, liking to receive pleasure rather than give, but she likes it either way. Will pull on your hair. 

The type to hold your thighs open or drag you back towards her if you try shutting them on her out of embarrassment, then complain that you can’t stay still for a “measly few seconds” while she has her fill of you. Her strength is nothing to play around with either. 

“Where are you going? I didn’t tell you to chicken out. Stay.” 

Isa’s hands palmed your bare buttocks to keep you from scooting any further into the headboard, yanking your body towards herself with enough force to elicit a sharp slap throughout the air where you connected to her lower abdomen. Redness bloomed over your skin in shapes suspiciously similar to her hands. 

Her arms hooked around your thighs, fingertips pressuring the bare skin and forming the remnants of light bruising. “Now, sit still. You'll thank me, maus.” 

She didn’t let you stutter. She was too busy craning her head to lick a long stripe from the base of your pussy, up to the nub of your clit where she readjusted to a brief suction between her lips. Her right hand's fingers now rifled through your folds, gathering moisture to now rub against your clit instead, while her tongue drifted towards your entrance.

Almost immediately, the urge to grip onto her hair was high. This daring technique had caused your hips to buck involuntarily towards her face, eyes glancing upward for a moment before her nose nuzzled back into your pelvis where she made herself at home. Fingers dashed to grasp her hair the second her tongue entered your pussy, greedily pulling her head towards yourself in a strangled moan. 

“I didn’t tell you to do that,” Isa lifted her head, her breath dangerously warm over your slit, “off.” 

Isa’s left, which had been occupying the front of your thigh to hold you, suddenly pinched, your hand now obediently lifting with the shot of pain. Mild, of course.  

“Over your head, not your mouth, your head,” she commanded, and once you obliged, she rewarded you with another swirl of her tongue over your pussy. Your moans were only fueling her drive. 

Heat was coiling rapidly in your lower stomach. Your thigh muscles contracted violently, unable to kick them out or relieve them with the way Isa was pressing down on you with her body, tongue curling upwards into that familiar spongey spot inside of you, forcing a cry. She didn’t relent once she discovered your weakness, juices spilling from her lips as she devoured you from below. You never thought she'd be this good at it. 

Her fingers relocated from your clit, now side by side with her tongue to scissor inside you with two fingers, stretching your walls out deliciously and drilling them inside of your wet pussy to your pleasure. The pressure was building embarrassingly fast until your body finally reached its limit, walls clenching--desperate to keep Isa’s fingers and tongue drenched inside of you. You clung to her like a vise, your hips bucking violently into her mouth as she helped you ride out that sweet pleasure over her tongue. Her mouth only halted once you grew too squirmy for her taste, retracting her slick fingers from your pussy and sitting up on her knees. 

“I think we should open that mouth up of yours.” 

Isa’s palm took your chin, keeping you in her grasp as she guided her messy fingers towards your mouth, coaxing you to open up and taste yourself. You were eager to take her fingers, despite it being unexpected. Your tongue obediently spiraled her digits, swallowing before she slowly withdrew.  

“I’d even say you did well for something so mute, maus.” 

Isa praised, before promptly handing you a bottle of water. 

“Put this helmet on. I don’t need you cracking your head open.” 

Isa tosses a scratched helmet towards you, scattered marks suggesting its age.

You turn the dark headpiece around in your hands, tracing your eyes over a few worn down stickers. Some were Redline, while some of them just seemed like random stickers that Isa had just stuck there on a whim, overlapping each other in some places. The barreling wind whisks a few strands of hair from your face. You knew it was probably her old helmet. You miss her glare through your peripheral.

“On, I said. Don’t make me push it onto your head.” 

The Salvonian repeated. Her fingers now slowly curling around the throttle of her motorcycle, twisting to flex the engine as the purr rumbled through the frigid air. The atmosphere was colder tonight on Salvo.  

You both had long walked away from the concentration of people celebrating the anniversary of the Apex Games. Isa had been quick to whisk you from the crowd once she was freed from the clasps of sponsors.

“I am. It’s just a little tight. How did you used to wear this so often?” 

Isa didn’t waste time in snatching the helmet back from you or responding back, quick to plunge the shell over your head. Her fingers spidered over the center top of the helmet, pushing downwards to ensure it was firmly secured over your skull. The warmth of the cushioning hit you immediately, your previously cold ears embraced by the material. 

“Safety. You get used to it.” 

Her palm snapped the clear visor over your eyes, now gesturing you forward towards her motorcycle, boots crunching over gravel. 

The moon, nestled behind the foggy clouds, illuminated Isa’s bike perfectly. It was a sleek midnight color. Isa didn’t care much for the appearance of her bike as long as it worked, but that doesn’t mean you haven't tried to convince her to splash even a little bit of color on it. She has yet to do so. 

But alas, you couldn’t bring that up now. You haven't properly ridden her bike before tonight apart from small trips, and you didn’t want her to take back her offer. 

As much as you reveled in the opportunity, you couldn’t really deny the small twinge of underlying anxiety from riding something so exposed. 

“You’ll sit behind me, here.” 

Isa pat the empty space behind her as she fixed her legs on either side of the bike.  

“Are you sure this is going to be comfortable for you?” 

You asked, noticing how small the space was. It wasn’t like Isa was taking up much space in the first place, but you were expected to almost mold into her back in this position.  

“Yes. Now get on.” 

With a slow exhale, you carefully repeated the motion you had just seen her do, but with much less grace. Either way, your legs ended up on either side of the bike as well. Your hands placed back against the elevated rear of the bike for now. 

“Move your feet off the ground. Hold onto me.” 

The heel of her foot nudged beneath your own, thrusting upwards until your foot was propped up on one footrest, then the other followed on the opposite side. Your arms reached around her torso, brushing against the freezing zipper of her uniform and lowering until you reached the small dip beneath her ribs, squeezing once. Beneath you, the bike rumbled awake again and began moving, tires scraping and rolling off the gravel. 

“Hold on. Fall nicht von meinem Fahrrad. If you do, it'll be your fault."

Isa turned her head ahead, twisting the throttle once again and slowly gaining speed on the asphalt as the breeze kicked up into your visor. She hadn’t told you where you were going yet, only insisted to pull you from the party and allow you to ride on her bike on a supposed whim. 

A sudden kick in speed resulted in a flex in your forearms, briefly squeezing Isa’s waist a second time as your clothing batted clumsily over your skin with the battering wind. The beaming lights of that nearly forgotten gathering behind you slowly pulled further and further from view.  

Whirling your head towards the front again, you were mesmerized by Salvo’s natural beauty. Mountainous hills of sand dunes that stretch farther than the naked eye, paired with towering rock formations that protrude from the earth. Your small twinge of prior anxiety had seemingly vanished with the distraction.  

Once your eyes refocused on the back of the Salvonian’s head in front of you, you finally realized something strange. 

She wasn’t actually wearing a helmet. You could’ve sworn she came in with one. 

Or was that the one you were wearing? 

Oh. Okay. 

“Isa,” you quickly brought up, tapping the side of her ribs to grab her attention from the road. Thankfully, there was nobody else on the road at the time, so she wasn’t distracted from much. “Why aren’t you wearing a helmet?” 

“Helmet?” Isa shrugged absently. “I don’t need one. Du hast meinen Helm.” 

You looked a little flabbergasted for a moment. Sure, Isa had done this for so long, but you didn’t actually expect her to flunk out on the most basic part of riding a motorcycle. A small “huh?” escaped your lips. 

“And you said nothing? I would’ve--” 

“You would’ve nagged. I only avoided the trouble.” 

“Uh--” 

Before you could offer another decent response, Isa’s knuckles flexed as she pulled the handlebar off to the left, guiding the bike off to the side of the road and halting it with a gentle nudge of the brake. 

“Off.”

Extinguishing your small flare of irritation, your legs plopped themselves back on the ground, feeling slightly jelly from the ride. You hadn’t realized how airless the ride had made you feel. You slowly peeled the headpiece off of your head, shaking it briefly to fix your hair in place before carding through it with your fingers. Hugging Isa’s helmet beneath your arm, you caught a glimpse at the spectacle before you. 

Isa had parked on a small but lofty plateau-like rock, right in front of a shaved down extension of the formation that almost resembled an outstretched wooden plank, though was supported by the bulbous rock beneath it. Essentially, just a very narrow path that led to nothing but a break-off into the crisp air.  

“You’re staring too much. Come on.” 

Isa interrupted your gawking and swiped her helmet back to place it on top of the bike to keep your hands free. As you both approached the extension, with you lagging slightly, you peeked downward over the ridges of rubble. You liked to think that you weren’t afraid of heights, but this challenged that thought. You hadn’t even realized how high you had gotten either. Either way, it was a far drop... assuming you fell. 

“Go first. I’ll be behind you.” 

“Go--” you glanced back at the extension of rock. Then her. Then the rock. This was what she wanted to show you? “Go on that? I'm probably gonna end up falling!"

“You won’t. Like I said, I’ll be right behind you.”

Hesitantly stepping forth towards the extension, there was a brief flash of worry with Isa being right behind you. Then again, if she wanted to push you, you likely would’ve been gone by now. With that self-assurance, you put a foot forward.  

“I used to come up and sit here for the adrenaline boost.” Isa stopped you just before the edge, where the updraft hit hard if you dared to look over, and paired with mildly jelly legs, it would probably end poorly. She kept a hand on your arm, before relaxing and maneuvering towards your side. “I want you to experience it too. Sit.” 

Sit? Yeah, right. 

You slowly flumped down onto the mass after a few seconds, legs left dangling from the break-off. You couldn’t help but look down, faced with an even better scope of the dunes that seemed a lot smaller now individually. You felt a small rush of adrenaline ignite in your veins, like a jerry can being emptied onto a blazing flame. Isa slotted herself beside you. 

“I found this place off the side of a track. It was quiet. Not many visitors.” She began disclosing another bit of her time in Redline. She didn’t talk about her time much. “I sat here sometimes.” 

Isa bent her elbow around your side, a reassurance that she wouldn’t let you fall off, at least, not so easily. Time passed slowly here. Her grip was stronger than you remember. You very slightly leaned onto your knees, looking around the profound desert surface. 

“It is beautiful. Thank you for... bringing me here, Isa.” 

The Salvonian glanced at your side profile briefly, then back down. She didn’t say anything immediately. Her arm flexed again, tightening ever so slightly until her palm placed flat on your side. 

“Stop it with that. Just look.” 

“Why do you keep doing that?” You suddenly questioned. 

You murmured idly, eyes flickering upwards until you met her again. You were surprised to find that she was already looking at you. 

“What?” 

“That,” you demonstrated, slowly clamping your fingers over her side and squeezing repeatedly. Not necessarily in the ticklish way, but to show what you meant. 

“It’s dangerous here. If you fall, you will die. I shouldn’t have to explain that to you.” 

Isa shook her head, lightly swatting your hand off her as her dark strands flicking to the side for a moment. She was oddly averting from you. You weren't that intimidating.

Only when you looked away from her did she clear her throat. 

“For safety.” 

Could probably win the Guinness World Record for being utterly clueless on what she’s doing. She misunderstood the whole, “would you like to be my partner” thing at first. 

At first, didn’t understand the difference between a platonic relationship and a romantic relationship. She kinda just thought they were the same thing, so she’s automatically a little confused about what you both are. 

“Huh? But you are my partner. Echo thinks so. I think so. You think so. Why are you asking me again?” 

You’ll have to teach her some things. The only affection she grew up with came from her mother, and even then, Vantage was taught not to worry about everything regarding the outside world including traditional love and affection. 

She knows what it is, but she never imagined herself in that situation until you came along. 

Clumsy kisser, but she gets a pass because she’s learning. She’s easy to melt into, but she doesn’t know how to keep it going in the way that’s considered sexy or attractive. She almost suffocates you sometimes because she doesn’t  know how much is enough, so she’ll look at you all confused. 

Speaking of suffocating, she can hold her breath for a long time, and she’s an excellent swimmer. Despite her home planet being an ice world, she’s made some interesting decisions to break and jump into freezing water. 

Also... she kinda just... doesn’t understand how people aren’t able to swim or climb. She thinks you were just born knowing those things. 

She’ll try to teach you if you’d like, but she’s not a fantastic teacher. She gets brownie points for being a motivator. 

She’ll question everything in your house, no matter how many times she’s been there already. She doesn’t get the hint when to stop. 

Starer, but not on purpose. 

She also doesn’t find the talk or look of nakedness embarrassing or anything. She just looks at it naturally because... that’s your body. 

No concept of TMI either. She’ll tell you EVERYTHING that’s on her mind whether it’s embarrassing or not. 

Fat lack of social skills, so when it comes to professional talk, you might have to help her out.  

Runs really warm, so she’s a good hugger and natural cuddler, but she can get overly into it if she’s really happy. 

A crazy good sense of smell. She can identify any scent within a mile. It gets a little weird, too. If you’re eating something unfamiliar to her, she leans over and gets a whiff of it and tells you a few of the ingredients in there that you don’t even remember putting in there.  

Will drag you hiking with her. She knows a lot of cool spots in the Outlands and loves walking through nature. She might accidentally leave you behind with how much and how long she can walk without a break. 

It’s also a good time for her to let Echo out to free roam. It’s no secret that he’s spoiled, so she lets you pet him any time you want. He likes to sniff at your food, though. The apple really doesn’t fall far from the tree. 

Thinks bugs are really cool to see because they do so much for the ecosystem despite being seen as gross by society. She’s the type to randomly pick up a bug to show it to you, confused on why you backed away so much. 

Insect dislikers beware. 

Knows everything about plants and how to use them to her advantage in survival. 

That includes medicine. If you get hurt, she has no issue in slicing the stem of a plant she finds and wrapping your wound with a clean cloth. 

She’ll also inadvertently rub it in, but only because she wouldn’t have made that mistake. 

“How did you do that? The branch was right below you... and... you... didn’t... see that?” 

Always keeps a pack of jerky in her backpack whenever she or Echo gets hungry. With you in the mix, she packs a little more. 

Echo is with you guys literally all the time. She doesn’t believe in letting someone babysit him or put him in a cage, as animals deserve to roam free like they were meant to do. 

Xiomara is one of those people with a bunch of random and rather strange animal facts memorized. You two could be in silence for a few minutes and she’ll turn over-- 

“Did you know that Vultures pee on their legs to cool down and get rid of parasites? Cool, huh?” 

Doesn’t know how to use a stove, so don’t let her touch yours. 

Will put her hand over the heat just to feel it. 

You can get her attention with things like quality time. She likes taking you places, even if she doesn’t have a reason to, as long as it has nature in it. She doesn’t like zoos though. 

Learned to love physical touch. Once she gets the gist of being a good kisser, she’ll be unstoppable. She likes giving and receiving things like hugs, cuddles, and holding hands. 

She does get sweaty from time to time, though. And as embarrassing as it sounds, you have to remind her that bathing is necessary. 

A lot more concerned for her mother than she looks. It’s concealed with all the publicity she gets, but it’s the entire reason she joined the Apex Games. She’s often overshadowed as young and inexperienced with the battlefield rather than viewed as someone trying to raise awareness about her mother’s situation, and it does anger her. It gives her a habit of some passive aggressiveness whenever she’s too overwhelmed. She doesn’t mean to do it, but it kinda just slips out. 

She acknowledges that it’s an issue if you speak to her about it, but it’s just one of her negative traits and something that would come up in your time together.

Leaves crunched and molded into the earth below with each step you took, trying not to fall again after your last battle earlier with a random branch that had taken out your ankles. Xiomara had no issue walking ahead with Echo perched on her shoulder, with the wombat occasionally flying off and returning a few minutes later to snack on the jerky that Xiomara had left for it in an open food box. 

“Oh! Look!” 

Xiomara suddenly halted her steps, nearly causing you to stumble into her back. The survivalist crouched, ushering you down with a hand. You complied, your knees noticeably aching with how long it had been since you got a proper rest. You blinked, staring at the rock that was between you two. You assumed she was just going to show you some cool plant you found just like earlier, harboring the gorgeous viridescent petals that seemed to gleam with the embrace of the sun. 

Once Xiomara carefully flipped the rock with her palm, you were presented with anything but beautiful. 

Long, segmented, probably venomous. 

A centipede. 

Your body immediately sprung back, your butt making contact with the dirt. That’s the second time today this forest has taken the breath out of you. Xiomara collected the creature into her hands, allowing it to scuttle between her fingers and upwards on her wrist. 

“What?” 

“You’re holding a centipede! That’s what!” 

“So what? They’re cool! See?” 

Xiomara shrugs, extending her hands to let you see it for yourself. The centipede was kinda just... chilling on your partner’s hand. It wasn’t doing anything, but it was surely freaking you out. Too many legs. 

“Oh--no, no, no! You keep that from me!” 

Your butt scooted backwards from Xiomara. She finally lowered her hand, using her free hand to lift the rock again, and letting the centipede wiggle back into its home.  

“You’re being a baby. It’s more scared of you than you are of it.” 

Xiomara extended a hand, effortlessly guiding you back to your feet.  

“Let’s keep going. Even if you are scared of a little bug.” 

Tressa seriously has the hibernating instincts of a bear in winter, but she actually just hibernates all year round. You’ll never see eyebags under her eyes unless she’s dedicated to a project she absolutely cannot put down. 

She’s a little puzzled about the bed situation at first. She trusts you enough to sleep in her bed, but she doesn’t know how to actually... manage the positions part of the sleeping situation. 

In short, she’s used to taking up the entire bed and all the covers. Good luck with THAT. 

Safe to say, Tressa really values her personal space. 

Thankfully, her blanket is huge, not to mention soft. A lot of her payouts go towards her own comfort, besides her efforts to rehabilitate Cleo.  

Her room is also reallllyyyy cozy. Candles, soft lighting, and a whole lot of her own trinkets. She has full shelves of books and different crystals she uses for different rituals of hers. Both of her nightstands are messy with different tarot boxes and a few books she puts to the side.  

If you’re living with her, she’ll clear a side out for you. She’ll let you pick a side if she’s feeling nice that day. 

She’ll be attached to a side to sleep on, so don’t bother trying to change it up. She’s already mildly annoyed with having to share her bed in the first place, but it isn’t the malicious kind of annoyed. 

She likes to read right before bed and has dropped a book on her face a few times. She’s actually pretty used to it. 

She likes quiet, but the comfortable kind of quiet, when you’re both doing something, but it isn’t an awkward silence. 

She’ll let you clean off her makeup. 

If you prefer tea... she’ll offer it to you before she goes on with her nightly routine. She has a coffee machine as well, but she doesn’t use it. 

She has a dedicated tea cabinet. You can literally find any blend you want if you look for it. It’s gotta be there somewhere. 

After longer competition days, she likes to start a bath before bed, and she makes that water steaming and scalding before she gets in. She tosses a few oils in it, some candles, and then pops some bubbles in that tub. She doesn’t get out for a while. 

How does she handle that kind of heat but not the cuddling heat? You’ll never know. 

Not a big cuddler. She’s okay if you want to lean on her side while she’s reading or doing something else, but otherwise doesn’t like being held in place. Not because she doesn’t care about you, she’ll adjust slightly if you’re a physical affection kind of person, but she isn’t used to sharing her space so much with another person, much less a partner. 

You’ll have to ask to cuddle at first, or at least give her enough of a cue. She’ll always let you in, but she really appreciates the ask. She’ll lift her arm and let you slip under it if she’s lying on her back. 

She’s awkward the first few times. Very awkward. Yes, Tressa is introverted, but she’s more awkward than she is shy. She has no romantic experience or cuddling experience. 

She is observant, however. She remembers small things about you that you like or makes you more comfortable.  

Tressa is really... REALLY good (trust me on this one) with her fingers from her terraforming work. If you like scalp massages, you’re in heaven. She doesn’t have much experience with giving massages, but if she does it absentmindedly while propping a book, she can make someone fall asleep quick. 

She won’t really notice either. Unless she’s planning on going to sleep as well.  

She likes to keep her hands busy to keep herself focused, but if you benefit from it, that’s just a plus.  

If she’s not reading, she’ll offer to show you around her tarot if you’re interested. Referring back to her fingers, she can do impressive card tricks, but she likes to use an older deck for that to not ruin newer ones. 

It warms her up a bit to impress you. 

When she finally sleeps, she leans into her side of the bed and drags most of the blanket with her. You’ll have to lean into the center of the bed if you want even a sliver of blanket. 

If you put cold feet on her even one time, you’re risking a literal hex. 

Both a light and a hard sleeper. It depends on the kind of day she had. It also determines if she curls up or splays herself out to conveniently take up the entire mattress. 

Takes a bunch of naps during the day. Even at the most random times, don’t be surprised to see her snuggled into those covers. She’ll let you in if you nudge her, and she’ll very slowly roll over like she’s hauling five bags of potatoes. Adds a groan in there too for extra effect to make sure you know that you’ve annoyed her. 

She sleeps like she’s dead.  

She really likes sleeping on her stomach and propping her chin on a pillow if she doesn’t want to move. She’s lazy like that. 

She doesn’t like cuddling in the middle of the night. She gets too hot. 

If you wake up due to a nightmare, she doesn’t mind staying up to help you fall back asleep. She’ll offer a cup if you want, and maybe a tea leaf reading to comfort and distract you. After all, she’s been doing it for so long. 

She also doesn’t get up for just anyone. 

Rarely, she’ll have nightmares herself. She gets hot and squirms around for a while until she finally wakes up and tosses the blanket away from herself. If she feels comfortable enough to talk, it’s often about the same thing, relating to her childhood, when one of her best friends had died. A girl named Margo. 

If she or you can’t sleep, she resorts to sitting out on the balcony with a hot cup. She’ll go on a talk about different stars and constellations if you let her. Astrology is her whole thing. 

She’ll get fun with it if you know absolutely nothing. She’ll point to a few stars and tell you to connect the dots and tell her what you see. She’s not above teasing either.

“One.” 

Tressa points to a prominent dot in the sky. She raises her finger towards another. 

“Two. Three. Four...” 

The witch points to them all, totaling to about... seventeen, as she sets her hands back down, cradling a warm cup of earl grey instead. She takes a sip as she gestures for you to tell her what you see. You lean in as if the stars would grow any larger, squinting through your exhaustion to verify the amount of dots and trying to see the shape of them combined. This was way more entertaining than sleeping anyway.  

“It... sort of... resembles a guy lying down. I’m not seeing anything special here, Tressa...” 

The witch places down her cup on the small, ornate table, side eyeing you for a moment before explaining it. She won’t shame you for not being as knowledgeable as she was. Besides, astrology isn’t always someone’s cup of tea. 

“It represents the Maiden. It means to analyze and adapt whenever conflict arises.” 

“Huh. But it does kind of look like a guy lying down.” 

Tressa narrows her eyes before fixating back at the beautiful arrangement of specks. The night sky was awfully bright tonight. The witch hummed, before returning her gaze to your own. 

As long as possible, Isa would prefer to keep you far from her work, and especially from racing, as much as she loves the thrill of having a rival and someone to compete with. After Weaver passed, Isa felt a sense of disbelief that her rival had really passed away. 

Since joining the Apex Games, that’s been her replacement for a thrill.  

She wouldn’t want you to end up similar to her parents, with her father dying and her mother ending up depressed. Competing is an escape for her to punch her feelings into when she’s anxious or upset. 

Lots of pride, you’ll drown in it. She’d risk any part of her body if it won her the game, trophy, badge, whatever.  

Isa accepts any challenge and you’ll kinda just have to... deal with that, even if it’s dangerous and you don’t like it. Ping Pong, a race, a tabletop game, a literal bloodsport, she’d do it all.  

She gets WAY too competitive about it. 

Had added way too much force to her racket during a casual game of Ping Pong, sending the ball hurling towards a wall, ricocheting off, and trickshotting Mirage in the eye. He ended up with a black eye for a little while.  

It’s good to pull her away sometimes, even if she does get annoyed about it. 

Able to take care of herself of course, but obviously holds a toxic mindset towards competition. 

Her pride can blind her from her partner’s feelings. It’s one of her red flag traits. Again, something you’ll have to just deal with. Talking about it is like mopping up water from a running tub. If your relationship is long term and you’ve known her for a while, she might ease up if you mention it.  

Her big no is trying to keep her from the Apex Games though. When you first got into a relationship with her and even before that, Isa made it apparent that her work meant a lot to her. It’s what she lives for. 

In a domestic setting, Isa is pretty bad at the normal things like cleaning. She can clean decently, but she will always complain about how tedious it is.  

She only makes simple meals, but she’s able to make a lot more sophisticated meals if she puts her mind to it. She normally doesn’t bother. If it energizes her, then she’s alright. 

Don’t even ask her about settling. She’s not a marriage person either. She doesn’t see a point in the label. 

Not a kid person, but she’s still not awfully terrible at babysitting. Still, she shouldn’t be the number one pick to leave a child with. 

She’s a sweet cuddler if she’s exhausted. She wouldn’t admit liking ANY warmth, and would probably bring out the stubborn, “I’m just resting my eyes, I work hard,” as she slowlllyyyy puts more weight on your shoulder... and suddenly begins a soft snore. It isn’t loud, but it’s easy to tell when she falls asleep and her breathing grows deeper. 

Isa sleeps deeply, especially after the amount of energy she spends during the day. She sleeps like a rock. 

Mumbles in her sleep. 

But she gets very pissed if you somehow manage to wake her up. 

In the mornings, she likes to wake up before you do and go for a run. She insists that it warms her up before she goes to compete. 

Not fond of pet names unless they’re semi-degrading towards you. If you call her any pet name, especially in public, you’re not making it home safe, and not in the sexy way. 

Her love language includes quality time and gift giving. Gifts let her have a way to remember you while she’s out and about, while quality time is something she wants to hold onto for as long as possible before it’s inevitably ripped away from her. She became more needy for it after her parents had been lost to Redline, but she doesn’t say that. 

PDA is a no. She knows she’ll get teased, and she doesn’t have time for that. 

If you want a kiss in private, she makes a game of it. Can you do this? Can you do that? Can you beat me in rock, paper, scissors?  

She gets annoying about it too. Sometimes she might purposefully make things more difficult for you just to see your face puff up. She rewards you with a good peck, though. Her black lipstick is really hard to wipe off. 

Holds things away from you for fun while encouraging you to try harder to get it back from her. 

Doesn’t initiate hugs, but if you initiate them quick enough, she’ll let you cling to her for a few extra seconds.  

She likes massages, specifically over her back muscles and trapezius. 

Shockingly.. really good at art? Give her a marker and she marks your arm up with little doodles. She probably could’ve made it as a tattoo artist as well. 

NEVER challenge her to air hockey. Your fingers will end up smashed and you’ll be lucky not to break them. 

Can grill absolutely killer burgers and complain if you don’t know how and state that it’s a basic skill. 

Definitely reeks of motor oil sometimes.  

She keeps a workshop in the lowest part of the house for her attachments and dealing with her prosthetics. Will come up from time to time to grab a bite before slinking herself back down the stairs, spending most of her time in there. She doesn’t really let you in there, but if she does, she explicitly warns you not to touch anything.  

Rarely will have bouts of phantom pain in her legs, but she won’t seek you out for it. She ranks a 2/10 on the communication scale. 

If you cut yourself or get yourself minimally injured somehow, she isn’t the coddling type. For you, she’d help you wrap it up before telling you to stop complaining about it. 

“Real winners don’t whine. Steh auf.” 

Overall, kind of like a big, standoffish cat. You have to let her come to you first.