FIC: Felt's Epic Journey [Gundam 00, Felt]
Title: Felt’s Epic Journey
Author: Omnicat v''v
Rating: M / R
Genre: General with a dash of Smutty Humor - or is that Humorous Smut?
Spoilers & Desirable Foreknowledge: Nothing much.
Warnings: Experimentation involving the female sexual identity and everything involved in it. Voyeurism.
Pairings: Mentioned Allelujah Haptism x Sumeragi Lee Noriega and a lot of self-loving for little Felt.
Soundtrack: ‘Girls Just Wanna Have Fun’ sounds about right. x3
Disclaimer: I hold no rights to Gundam 00 and make no profit by writing fanfiction about it. This story is entirely fictional and does not represent my personal opinion on the subject matter. If anything depicted in it goes against your laws, don’t try it at home.
Summary: Through trial and error, a teenage wallflower on a spaceship full of wanted terrorists discovers her sexuality. Not as silly as the title suggests, not as serious as the summary suggests.
Author’s Note: Fanfic: Sex ed for dummies. :P
Felt’s Epic Journey
Growing into womanhood while involved with Celestial Being was... problematic, to say the least. If it had been within Felt Grace’s vocabulary, she might have called the whole collection of circumstances, interactions and emotions ‘a bitch’. But her late parents had always kept her interaction with Marlene Bloody as limited as possible, and Lockon only swore in heavy dialect, so she didn’t know if the expression was really appropriate in this case.
It wasn’t that there were no other young people in the organisation. Plenty of them, in fact. Felt estimated that apart from Ian Vasty, there was probably nobody in the Ptolemaios devision over thirty years old. Still, all of them were either a lot older than her and thus had other, more advanced issues of femininity on their mind, or were quite simply of the wrong gender.
Of course, she had always been independant. With parents who could be sent out on missions and test flights at any time, running a substantial risk of dieing while they were at it, she had been taught to take care of herself from a young age. The challenges of her bodily needs had never posed a problem before, and as far as the hustle and bustle of a space-station with too little room for too many people was concerned, Felt had usually ignored it in favour of her books and computers.
Over the last couple of years, though, Felt had noticed her body and mind, along with its functions and needs, changing. The biological background was no mystery to her; one look through the medical library had provided her with all the information on hormones and their effects she needed. Her first menstruation hadn’t surprised Felt, though she had been sad her mother couldn’t be there to talk her through it. The appearance of painfully sensitive lumps on her chest had been anticipated as well, and she had kept track of their size compared to her torso with a tape measure to make sure she started wearing bras on time.
So far so good; she’d managed to handle things on her own until then. But there were other things, things she had carefully suppressed or avoided but which were becoming increasingly hard to ignore. Things Veda answered with ‘ACCESS DENIED’ and a venomous, red-eyed glare that reminded her of Tieria in a bad mood whenever she tried to look them up.
Sometime after Lockon had revealed his real name and given her a hug, thereby causing a short-lived but vicious meltdown in her brain, Felt Grace realised what it was that had been bothering her for the past three years: she was growing horny.
The subsequent realisation that she was going to need other people to do something about that came around the time Sumeragi and Allelujah had their first slip up, which earned them the dubious honour of serving as Celestial Being’s resident doormats for a record time of two months, before Setsuna couldn’t hold back anymore and screwed up again, and showed Felt the light Veda so cruelly denied her.
Which brought her from the relative comfort of denial back to trouble, in an almost perfect circle. Appropriate or not, Felt was ready to dub everything in sight ‘bitch’.
Apart from the fact that the only boy within her age range returned physical contact of any kind with violence, that the second most suitable male was involved in a not-so-secret-affair with her superior, and that the only other man on the Ptolemaios who didn’t creep her out some way or another was probably at least ten years older than her and treated her accordingly, Felt was also plagued by her female associates.
Christina Sierra was overwhelmingly girlish, from her pant-chasing, lash-fluttering and shopping all the way down to the way she treated Felt; like a live-sized doll. Felt realised Christina probably meant well, but her shameless cuddling, forcefull dress-up parties and other expressions of ‘being female together’ without explanation confused and embarassed Felt more than anything. And it did nothing to alleviate Felt’s unresolved lust that, once she had calculated that the things Sumeragi and Allelujah had been doing should also be possible with two people of the same gender, Christina would never go beyond a casual grope no matter how many ‘coincidental’ opportunities Felt set up for her.
But Sumeragi Lee Noriega, Ptolemaios’s tactical forecaster and impromptu captain, was even worse. Just when Felt thought she’d found a way to handle her randiness on her own (just hold on to the armrests of her seat, push her lower body down into the upholstry and rock back and forth), Sumeragi took her aside and told her not to do ‘that’ on the bridge. Complete with nonsensical hand gestures and Meaningful Looks. When Sumeragi informed her later that day that unless Felt wanted to end up like her and Allelujah she’d best not do ‘it’ in the mess hall either, the looks and gestures had been joined by hushed whispers and a scarlet blush.
For Sumeragi’s sake, Felt had agreed never to rub anything in public again. She had started to enjoy the seat-grinding on the bridge quite a bit and found that with the dining table as a counterweight she could produce the same sensations on the cafeteria benches, but the effect it had on Sumeragi didn’t seem entirely healthy. The couch in her personal quarters had no armrests nor ledges to hold onto, though, and hanging upside down with the showerhead clutched between her legs was not an option either, because to enable Celestial Being’s members to shower in space the locker rooms had gravity. The showers in Wang Liu Mei’s mansion in the tropics had detachable heads, but who knew when they would get to go to Earth again?
No, Ms Sumeragi was not helping Felt.
Not voluntarily, at least. There were only so many skin-tight pilot suits, pop-out tops and ‘tea parties’ Felt’s hormonal body could take before it rebelled against her logical brain and took over power by means of a figuratively bloody coup d’état. The new regime encouraged the stalking of both Sumeragi and Allelujah, since they were the only two on board Ptolemaios to have openly (albeit forcibly) admitted to having a sexual relationship going. It made them easiest to spy on.
It took a while, but Felt eventually figured out how to tell if they were going to have or were having sex; Sumeragi’s strategic abilities proved to work for love affairs as well as military operations. Then it took a while before Felt managed to get visual information as well as the auditory that was proving so aggravating-yet-addictive. And then it took an even longer while before she saw them do anything that might be replicated with only one person.
(She would have tried some of the activities for two, if it wasn’t for the minor detail that when she tried to desinfect the penis-shaped latex object she’d ‘borrowed’ from Christina’s room, the contraption had melted, leaving Felt with an embarrassing secret to keep but without anything resembling the male reproductive organs.)
By that time, Felt was beginning to feel quite despondent, and her discovery didn’t alleviate her mood either. When Felt saw them in the shower, Sumeragi and Allelujah were both totally naked (they weren’t always), with him standing and her leaning against the wall with her legs around his waist. The sights and sounds she was privy to from her place in the laundry basket were distracting, making her feel feverish, but Felt managed to pay enough attention to notice that Sumeragi seemed to enjoy it very much when Allelujah played with her breasts, especially when he took them in his mouth. And Felt may be unworldly as hell, but she knew enough to know that the sheer size of Sumeragi’s breasts must have pleased Allelujah as well.
Once back in her own room, Felt tried taking her own breasts into her mouth, but only managed to make her neck muscles scream in protest. If she hadn’t been so desperately sexed up by then, she might have given up on the breast thing just as she had the bottom-rubbing. It wasn’t too long ago that they were too sensitive to touch without feeling pain, and she had never gotten pleasure from her daily ritual of tucking everything into place in the stiff, anti-bounce bra she always wore in space. But sexed up she was, and so she went out looking for other ways to get pleasure out of her breasts, just like Ms Sumeragi. The difference of three cupsizes be damned.
With the mouth-on-breast thing scrapped from the list, the logical next option was to use her hands. Late at night, when her shifts had ended and everyone else would be asleep, Felt began experimenting.
She started by pressing her flat palms against the mounds of flesh-covered glandular tissue, applying evenly distributed pressure to see if anything happened. It did, but only when she pressed hard enough to make the old pain return. Adjusting the angle her hands made relative to her torso, Felt tried again, pushing up, down, to the side and towards the center. When that failed to deliver results, she tried pushing one way with her left hand and in a different direction with the other. Still nothing.
Not that she’d expected results that way - Allelujah had clearly had his fingers curled inwards - but it was worth a try before doing exactly what she’d seen him doing with Sumeragi’s breasts. If her estimations were correct, variation was important for the generation of enjoyment.
It was... awkward. Felt felt decidedly silly and kept glancing at the door as she sat up in bed, manhandling her breasts. How was she going to explain this sudden interest in the front of her pyjama top?
After a few evenings of shoving, prodding and poking, Felt was struck with the idea of taking said top off while she was doing it. When Sumeragi and Allelujah came together in a place other than their respective bedrooms, they often tried so hard to keep hidden that they didn’t even take off their clothes, and the hurry and secrecy only seemed to arouse them more. But perhaps, because Felt was alone, it was best for her to undress?
Staring down at her naked chest, Felt’s hopes returned remarkably quickly. Uncovered, they seemed to invite her to touch them in ways that hadn’t even entered her mind while she still had her clothes on. Her heartbeat sped up as she gently cupped her own flesh, just like it did whenever she observed Sumeragi and Allelujah. Images of their entwined bodies and echoes of their breathless voices arose in her mind while she caressed her breasts, brushing lightly over and around them. Before long, her nipples tautened and hardened, gradually becoming so sensitive that even a simple circle around them with her index finger or a scraping motion over them with her thumb took her breath away.
Night after night Felt experimented with different gestures and touches, trying out techniques she thought up during the day. Putting on her bra became much more interesting and time-consuming, but her daydreaming and the realisation that the friction provided by space suits and shirts of all kinds could be just as stimulating as the ever more skillful ministrations of her fingers earned Felt the concern of many of her team mates. For some reason, playing ‘hide and seek’ with them about her ‘symptoms’ of fidgetiness, hot and cold spells and mystery itches, only added to the intensity of the sensations.
It wasn’t long before Felt would unzip her suit and stick her hands up her shirt as soon as the bedroom door closed behind her after a long day of boring shifts and slowly building tension in her belly. At first, the tension wouldn’t go away no matter what she did, leaving her flustered and frustrated and in need of a cold shower, but the more familiar with her breasts Felt became the closer she thought she came to finally puncturing a hole in the balloon of her lust, until late one night, after half an hour of sweet, laborious torture, one final twist of a nipple made the muscles in her back contract and the ones in her legs turn to goo, and she let out a cry of surprise as the tension in her belly burst, flooding her entire body with molten extasy.
It was a victory she would revel in for weeks. Allelujah and Sumeragi got a kiss on the cheek and a hug, respectively, for their contribution, and Felt sent Veda a positively gloating report with ‘HA, I DID IT! I DID IT AND YOU COULDN’T STOP ME, YOU PRUDE!’ in the document header. And of course she repeated her masterpiece many, many times.
Over time, as the opportunities to learn came and went, Felt discovered additional ‘flavours’, such as the breathtaking effect of ice on heated skin (after a day in Wang Liu Mei’s pool) and of external vibrations combined with certain breathing patterns. After a rather painful incident involving Haro’s unforgiving ear flap, though, she decided never to use anything but her fingers to pinch her nipples with. Somewhere along the way she even discovered that the fingers of one hand were enough to cause the pleasant friction between her legs, and that she didn’t need an entire chair, which was a welcome addition to her ‘arsenal’.
If anyone on board the Ptolemaios noticed Felt’s struggles, failures and successes, they never commented on it. It didn’t matter to Felt, though. She had always depended on herself first and foremost, and as long as she was part of an independant terrorist organisation that sought to revolutionize the world through armed intervention, that was unlikely to change. The knowledge of what kind of woman she was, was enough to make her chest swell with pride, and she walked with her shoulders thrown back and her breasts pointing proudly forward.
It wasn’t easy to turn from a girl into a woman in the lair of Celestial Being. But at the end of the day, Felt could only conclude that she liked the challenge.
PSAN: Kindly ignore the lack of respect for canon and timelines. O:)