And another fandom bites the dust! I had a bit of fun and took some creative liberties with this as the Tenno are an alien (?) race with very little background. Enjoy!
Disclaimer: This was written some time (read: years) ago, before all the fancy updates, so excuse me any inaccuracies. Distraction does not own. Kthx.
-Newbie Initiation-
An alarm blared, the loud, urgent sound spurring the Tenno into a dash, and Mag leaped over a steel storage container in one bound, her fingertips catching on the lip of a rock outcropping that overlooked it. As she hauled herself up, her partner-a Tenno with a Warframe that's triangular helm, flared at the crown of her head, closely resembling the head ridges of a triceratops-paused and looked up, the intricate design on her helm glowing in the artificial light.
The woman un-holstered her pistol from her Warframe's digitalized weapons storage unit, the lines of code twisting and turning until they had formed something solid, and gestured for her companion to be silent as she straightened her shoulders and pointed the gun's muzzle at something over Banshees' left shoulder. Before the other Tenno could even release the nervous breath she had taken three shots were fired, impossibly loud in comparison to the silence with which the duo had been travelling, and there was a dull 'thud' as an inorganic form met the planet's stony surface.
"This quadrant is clear." There was a bit of static over their personal communications link, known simply as a Pers-Com. Mag looked over at Banshee, the smooth blue shell of her helm somehow managing to display curiosity despite the fact that the lower half of it resembled a gas mask and therefore could not reveal such an expression. "Are you nervous, rookie?"
"Tch."
She was, but she'd never admit that to the other woman.
"Just try to keep up."
Mag's tone made the rookie bristle, but she nodded sharply, her helm reducing the battlefield around them to possible routes and faraway heat signs.
"Remember: we aren't here to engage. You are to test out this new Warfame's movement and mapping capability and nothing else."
She also didn't like that she was being restricted like this, but she held her tongue. "…Understood."
The Banshee's specially crafted sonar was proving to be an interesting asset and the hollowed shapes of structures stretched out before the Tenno as she waved her hand, the back of it glowing with the same faint blue light of the hologram that flowed from her palm. Her fingertips twitched and the map rotated slowly to show them the field from all angles.
"We need to get to the highest point. Here." Mag pointed to the sector surrounded by red enemy markers. "This is the extraction point."
Of course it was. The woman moved her hand downwards and the image zoomed in, hurtling past the meters between them and their target and through the walls of the building to show its enemy-infested innards.
"Any shots fired will result in immediate failure of your mission."
"We're deep in enemy territory," Banshee protested, the map fading into darkness as her attention shifted. It wasn't until it disappeared that she realized how taxing it was to maintain. "Don't you think that's a little… Foolhardy?"
"I have your back." Was Mag—was she smirking? It sure sounded like it.
"Fine." She looked up, her visor darkening as the image from before filled her mind's eye and an orb of blue light shot past her, illuminating the best path that they could take. She inhaled, filling her lungs with the oxygen channeled from the toxic atmosphere by her suit and straightened her shoulders, her heart racing beneath her breast. She was proud to say her anxiety didn't reflect in her voice as she said, "I'm ready."
"Lead the way."
Mag kept cycling through her weapons as she trotted at Banshee's heels, the motion easy, practiced—from ranged to melee.
Ranged… Melee.
Ranged… Melee.
Ranged—
She paused as her companion rounded on her, her helm gleaming almost challengingly as her long, thin katana materialized from her weapons storage, the sharp edge of the blade facing outwards.
"Do you mind? I'm trying to focus."
It really was difficult to maintain the Warframe's abilities, considering how alien the second skin was. But that only contributed to a fraction of her ire. What annoyed her most about her fellow Tenno's actions was—
"No, of course not." That tone—that condescending, dismissive, borderline-snarky tone!
Banshee growled wrathfully under her breath and turned her attention back to the maze of corridors, pressing her index and middle finger to her temple as she sent out waves of sound to gain a clearer view of the structure around them.
They were nearing the top and—knock on wood—they hadn't been spotted.
… Yet.
The woman flinched as one of the waves came ricocheting back with enough force to make her ears ring, her helm flooding with literal warning bells. She grabbed Mag's wrist, making the slender Tenno tense and fall still mid-step, her head turning swiftly from side to side as she tried to locate whatever it was that the her companion was sensing.
The cacophony could only mean one thing: a large, swiftly moving object was approaching.
There was no time to think; Banshee acted instinctively, tightening her grip on the senior Warframe and dragging Mag backwards, her gun materializing in her hand as she located a structural weakness in the wall just behind them and—
"Any shots fired will result in immediate failure of your mission."
—used the butt of her standard issue pistol to bash open a gap large enough for both Warframes to slip through and emerge into what seemed to be an abandoned laboratory.
And not a moment too soon for, the instant Mag's tense frame went silent (and tenser still), there was a guttural roar that momentarily blanked both women's displays, their Pers-Coms flooding with static.
The thing paused before their hiding spot—snuffing, scenting—and Banshee pressed instinctively closer to Mag, bracing her hands on the wall on either side of the Tenno's slender waist and blanketing her body over the smaller Warframe. She wasn't conscious of the desire, but she instinctively felt that she had to protect the pyro—by any means necessary.
After what seemed like an eternity, the unknown resumed its path and the pair was allowed to breathe, their muscles going limp with relief. Being taller than her companion, Banshee's helm met Mag's as she slumped and there was a faint clink as the metallic parts of their suits collided and, suddenly, they were made aware of just how closely entwined their frames were.
Mag's chin lifted as she raised her gaze, the smooth curve of her visor somehow managing to express the uncertainty in her voice as she questioned, "Rookie?"
They were close—too close. Even with the second skins that separated them, she could feel the heat of the other woman's slender form and, embarrassingly enough, Banshee found that her own body heated in response.
"… Rookie?" Her faraway voice was hesitant, hushed, and it only added to the newfound intimacy of the moment.
"Hostile presence is growing too substantial for this exercise to continue: stand by for immediate extraction." The voice that filled their helmets made both woman start and Banshee was the first to recoil, her face hot and her insides flip-flopping guiltily.
Why did she feel as though she had done something wrong? Her quick action had saved them both—and yet…
"Understood." Mag's voice was calm, but her companion noted with a painful pang that she kept her visor angled away.
They waited in silence tense silence for further instructions.
A tall blonde, humanoid figure stepped into a room in a cloud of steam, a towel draped around her to hide her nudeness though the cramped, Spartan space was deserted. She sighed and toweled off, folding the cloth into a neat square before setting it on the steel folding chair in front of the desk next to a tiny bunk before crossing the room to a wooden chest of drawers and retrieving from it a tank top and a pair of cotton underwear. After donning both articles, the female fell into her bed with another heavy sigh, crossing her arms behind her head and staring up at the ceiling with stormy gray orbs.
She sighed a third time, shutting pupil-less, almond-shaped eyes tight and muttering, "You're a mess, S'rah."
S'rah Ekko, though more commonly known as Banshee, ran a hand through cropped flaxen locks, the longest part of which brushed the underside of pointed ears, and shifted, trying to get comfortable on the narrow bed—cot, really—standardly issued to each of the myriad rooms in the hive-like barracks.
Her day had been a mess, what with the mission going horribly awry, but a smile made the corner of full lips quirk upwards as she thought back to the admittedly awkward ride back to base. It wasn't the awkwardness in itself that she thought fondly of, but the way Mag had handled the situation—
/ 'Extraction' arrived with ground-shattering force in the form of pill-shaped metal capsules with glass fronts that revealed their leather interiors.
"Good work today, Rookie." It seemed that her companion had managed to shake off whatever had passed between them only moments before because her sharp, serious air was firmly in place.
Banshee blinked, taken aback by the rather unexpected compliment, her hand resting on the lip of her own pod. The other Tenno had already climbed into her own and strapped herself in. "… Thanks."
Mag nodded curtly, directing her attention ahead just as the glass door wall to the deployment capsule slid shut with a hydraulic hiss./
She had spent the entire ride back clenching slender thighs together and fidgeting.
The blonde's mind strayed to the heat of the other Tenno's body, her cheeks growing warm in response to the mere memory of their proximity and the intimacy it forced upon them. She slid a hand almost absentmindedly down her front, resting it on the flat of her stomach and shaking her head at her own foolishness.
She had to have been imagining it. That was the only explanation for the-the closeness she had imagined between them—even for a moment. This was a woman who she knew only by a moniker; someone she worked with and fought alongside without actually knowing on a thing about.
It was then that the female realized that her hand had strayed even lower, along the softer scales of her abdomen, and, upon flexing her fingers, she inhaled sharply, caught off-guard by just how… damp she was.
When the hell had that happened?
S'rah swore quietly and began to remove her hand, only to pause and bite her lip, her eyelids lowering alluringly. She petted herself idly through the thin layer of fabric, not really aiming to pleasure herself, but still receiving a little electric jolt when her fingers strayed against a particularly sensitive part of her anatomy.
What was she doing? She knew nothing about the Tenno within the Warframe… Yet here she was touching herself to the thought of the other female.
She knew nothing about the Tenno within the Warframe… But that wasn't entirely true.
Mag was strong. Loyal. Fierce.
Where others approached the battlefield like a puzzle, the fire-wielding Warframe utilized her brute strength and astonishing control over the elements to force her way through. In that sense, she was a unit all of her own, relying on her own combat prowess to save the day.
S'rah supposed she admired that.
She breathed out slowly, dipping her hand into her underwear and cupping her sex skin-on-skin. Her fingers brushed against her slit, spreading the excitement that dampened her lower lips as she continued to pet herself absentmindedly.
Mag was obstinate. Proud. Blunt to the point of rudeness.
The other Warframe users tended to keep to themselves, but Mag actively forced the reclusive, waning race out of their stasis chambers and into the common area. Her sharp tongue didn't make her many friends, but then the Tenno didn't seem to care. She didn't need anyone else.
S'rah supposed she envied that.
Her hips bucked, her body instinctively seeking to prolong pleasure.
Mag was… Mag was gorgeous. Despite the fact that S'rah had never seen the other Tenno outside of her Warframe, there was no mistaking the slender, feminine frame or the grace with which the pyro carried herself. She also didn't know the female's actual name and that was probably for the best.
The blonde parted the slick folds of her sex, pressing long, slim fingers into the velvet depth and moaning breathlessly, a little bolt of excitement zipping from synapse to synapse. Not only was she wet, but sensitive as well… The intensity of the pleasure caused by simply entering herself made her pause, breathing quickly as her free hand clutched the sheets in an attempt to ground herself.
She released a strangled cry as she brushed her thumb against the hypersensitive bundle of nerves at the top of her slit, spreading her thighs wider as her spine arched. Just what was it about—
The communicator sitting on the metal desk chirped, its rounded front lighting up as a familiar voice poured out of it: "Rookie?"
Mag.
Rather than stop the Tenno increased her pace, panting quietly in the dim light afforded by the faintly glowing surface of the containment device that housed her Warframe.
She couldn't help it: the command in the veteran Warframe's tone made her hips twitch and S'rah swore quietly, heat suffusing the sweet spot between her thighs as she curved her fingers, her breath leaving in ragged pants as her pace sped up, her hips bucking as pleasure made the muscles in her thigh quiver.
Almost… She was so close.
"Rookie, do you copy?"
S'rah swore under her breath, her eyes rolling back in her head as waves of pleasure battered her senses. She had to bite her lip to stop from crying out, a pointed canine piercing through soft flesh and flooding her mouth with a bitter taste as she rode out her orgasm, gasping and whining. When at last the tremors had stopped, she sagged bonelessly, her eyelids fluttering shut as she sighed in a decidedly satisfied manner. She stretched, muscles flexing beneath pallid blue skin, and her legs fell open to reveal her pleasantly tingling core, the heat of her body dispersing slowly in the afterglow.
That was—
"Banshee."
There was no time to regain her breath; the young female feigned a yawn as she slammed her hand down on top of the device and answered, voice husky with 'sleep,' "What is it?"
There was a pause and, for a ridiculous, nerve-wracking moment, Banshee thought the veteran Warframe knew exactly what she had been doing and, more importantly, exactly who she had been thinking about during.
But that was impossible… Right?
But then Mag scoffed in that haughty, infuriating, sexy—wait, what? While she was reeling from that sudden shift in perspective, S'rah just barely heard the other Tenno say, "… meet on the deck."
Were they deploying again? She had missed everything else. "U-understood."
There was another pause during which the blonde held her breath, daring the other woman to comment on her absentmindedness.
"I'll see you upstairs, Rookie."
'Click.'
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