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Note: This story contains bizarre, unrealistic and occasionally ridiculous content. It is not suitable for minors. Everyone portrayed in this story is of consenting age.

I have never played Girls Frontline, I based this character off of other GFL fan-fiction by Undertaker33 and PastaTempesta. And yes, I know it’s a mobile game, pretend he’s playing on an emulator or something.

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Chapter I

“Grr… damnit!”

Tom cursed at his computer as the screen flickered.

“Stupid piece of junk… stupid storm!”

Tom was a nondescript guy sitting in a nondescript room. It was a small studio apartment, the kind designed for students. Unimpressive, poorly built, countless layers of “fresh” paint covering every surface. The only “nice” things in the room had been purchased from IKEA. In fact, both the desk supporting Tom’s computer, and the chair supporting Tom, came from the House of Meatballs.

The apartment was almost completely dark, save for the blue glow of the computer monitor which cast Tom’s face in eerie shadows, and the occasional bright flash of lightning illuminating the closed blinds over the unit’s few windows.

As the storm raged on outside, the screen on Tom’s computer showed a militaristic video game with boxes and panels, he appeared to be doing some kind of gacha pull. The game showed a female silhouette holding some kind of weapon, and some flashing stars as a clap of thunder shook the entire two story building. As the screen flashed white, resolving to an image of an anime girl with silver hair in pigtails, a bolt of lightning struck the building outside, crackles of light running down the sides and corners, transformers popping. Back inside, the bolts of electricity followed the wiring in the walls, coalescing on the cord connecting Tom’s computer to the wall, tracing the rope-like cable to the box on the desk.

Tom’s whole world glowed as brightly as the white screen in the game, growing in intensity as time slowed. Tom’s pupil’s dilated trying to adjust to the sudden influx of light until his eyes hurt and his head did too. Suddenly the crackling became a loud pop, and Tom’s world went dark.

Which is not to say that Tom died. He only passed out from electric shock.

An indeterminate amount of time later, Tom slowly regained consciousness.

“Ugh… what the hell?” He said slowly, putting a hand to his head.

He was lying on the floor of his apartment. He was several feet away from his desk chair and wondered idly how he’d gotten there, as his awareness returned.

The room was dark. That is, the room was darker than it had been before.

“Alexa, lights!”

Nothing.

“Alexa, turn on the lights.”

Still nothing.

“Huh… the damn power must have gone out.”

From the darkness an unfamiliar voice responded. It was not the voice of an Amazon product.

“Hello Commander, it’s SPAS-12! Allow me to become your impregnable shield!”

The voice was undoubtably female, but Tom could make out nothing in the dark room.

“What the… who’s there??”

“I told you, it’s SPAS-12, Commander. You can just call me Spas if you want to, sir.”

“How… how did you get in here? The door is locked.”

“Um… you summoned me here sir. To give me my orders?”

“Hang on, let me find a light…”

Tom fumbled around the dark apartment for a bit, digging through drawers and cabinets until he found the camping lantern his parents had sent with him when he left for college. It then took several more minutes of fumbling before he found batteries for it. Finally the compact light source blazed forth, spilling soft blue light into the tiny apartment.

Now the young man was struck with an entirely new shock. Seated in his computer chair was a girl. Well, he had known there was a girl in his place, but he thought it would be like, a burglar or something. Best case scenario it was one of his female neighbors, hopefully the cute brunette from the first floor. What he didn’t expect to see was an extremely cute, busty, silver-haired, red-eyed battle goddess!

SPAS-12 fidgeted in her seat as the man she took to be her new Commander inspected her uniform. (Speaking of uniform, why wasn’t he in his??)

The girl was short, maybe just above 5’3”. (Tom was only 5’9” himself so this was good news.) Her silver hair was braided behind her head and tied in fluffy pigtails with black ribbons. She wore a strange uniform. It started with a dark grey buttoned shirt with a high collar, tied with a red ribbon tie. The blouse was without sleeves, baring flawless creamy-white skin at the shoulders. The outfit had separate sleeves that started at the armpits and ended at her wrists, they matched the blouse and had red and white trim. (Tom did not fail to notice that the uniform top was hugging a very generous bosom.)

Over the shirt was a scoop neck black vest, and a set of elaborate red and black straps around her torso and hips to carry her gear. The harness pieces and other straps and clips held shotgun shells, armor panels, and other battlefield equipment. There was a narrow strip of leather belt just the girl’s impressive chest, and the vest extended to the tops of her hips. Below the vest was a red and white skirt, not quite short enough to be called a mini-skirt, with just a bit of slip showing. A few inches of more perfect skin led to long, very long black stockings. These were fastened to garter belts, also black, and if Tom had looked more closely he’d have noticed that both stockings and garters were a little tight, slightly inadequate for their owner’s thighs. The stockings led down to low heeled boots, black and red with white trim.

(I probably should have just put a photo here, but if you’re reading this you probably know what SPAS-12’s default outfit looks like.)

It’s a testament to how cute Tom found this young woman that he noticed all these details about his houseguest’s clothing before realizing she was carrying a gun. A big gun. A full size combat shotgun. Set nearby was a device that looked like some kind of expanding shield, and she had a set of speed load tubes fastened to the harness at her hip.

“Wh… what? …who?” Tom said dumbly.

The girl hopped to her feet. Taking the weapon by the butt in one hand, letting it rest in her shoulder, while she saluted with the other. Tom was again distracted from the gun as he noticed the girl’s skirt flutter and her breasts wobble in their snug casing.

“SPAS-12 reporting for duty, Commander!”

The pieces of the puzzle were falling into place in Tom’s overstimulated and literally shocked brain.

“At ease soldier. Um, go ahead and sit back down. This is gonna take some time to explain.”

***

“And so that’s where you are now.”

Spas was listening intently. Her shotgun was propped against the desk, mostly forgotten. She had both hands folded in her lap as she listened.

“Okay, Commander!” she replied with a big grin.

Tom rubbed his eyes with the palm of one hand.

“It’s just Tom, Spas, I’m not a Commander.”

“Okay, Tom!” she said with the same level of cheeriness.

“You don’t uh… you don’t have any questions or anything?”

“Hmmm…” The pale girl looked up at the ceiling briefly, before her stomach reminded her of the most important question with a fierce rumble.

“Oh! Do you have any food?”

“Sure thing, Spas. Come sit over here, I think I have some chips left, and I can make some ramen. I should be able to start the stove with some matches, if I can find them…”

***

Quite a while later, the silver-haired girl was loudly slurping up the last of a bowl of instant ramen. The last of her *last* bowl of ramen, that is. She had eaten all the ramen Tom had, in fact.

*How could a girl this size eat 7 packages of instant ramen?* Tom wondered.

The silver-haired girl lifted the bowl and brought it to her lips, the red ribbon tied around her collar dancing as she chugged down the last of the sodium-rich broth.

*ulp*

*ulp*

*ulp*

"*Haaaa*" Spas sighed contentedly, leaning back in her chair and resting a hand on her middle. Her shield and other accoutrements were left by the desk with her gun, and Tom now had a clear view of the way Spa’s stuffed stomach pressed against her uniform vest, straining the clasps.

“That was really good Comm- Tom!” Spas said with a big smile. “Do uh… do you have any more?”

Tom chuckled, somewhat nervously.

“Heh, sorry Spas, that’s all the ramen I have. Really all the *anything* I have, you already ate the chips *and* the pretzels.”

“Oooh yeah,” Spas said, mouth dropping open and close to drooling. “Those pretzels were great…”

She started to rub her tummy now, remembering the salty snacks.

“Uh… yeah. Well anyway we’re out of food unless you want to eat raw condiments, which I can promise you don’t. I’ll go out shopping tomorrow.”

“Oh…” The short girl looked down so dejectedly that it nearly broke Tom’s heart. Despite her cleaning out his ramen stockpile in one sitting he wished desperately that he had more food for the cute young woman.

“Can I come with you shopping?” She asked, looking up at him eagerly.

“Sure you can, Spas.” Tom put the dirty dishes in the sink, and asked, “Do you have some clothes to sleep in?”

“Of course, let me grab them from my pack–"

The girl stood and reached behind her to an imaginary space, and nothing happened.

“That’s weird, why can’t I access my pack?”

“There’s no magic pack technology here, Spas.”

“Oh right, I forgot!” Spas grinned at Tom in a way that made his heart skip a beat, bouncing on her toes and sending everything jiggling again.

“I uh… I can loan you something for tonight, then I guess we can buy you some clothes while we’re out tomorrow…”

“New clothes, really!?” Spas’ red eyes glowed with an intensity almost as bright as they had while she was eating.

“Well sure. You can’t sleep in that uh… uniform.”

“Good point…” Spas clasped her hands together at her waist and twisted back and forth. Her uniform-clad breasts wobbled and swayed hypnotically and Tom had to force himself to look his guest in the eyes.

“Let me grab you some sleep clothes, I’ll be right back.”

Tom returned with a T-shirt and sleep pants, thankfully his spare set were clean. Spas took them with a smile and started immediately undoing the buttons of her uniform top.

“Wait, not out here!”

“Huh?”

Tom blushed and coughed into one hand, the other covering his eyes.

“You should uh, change in the bathroom.”

He pointed at the one door that didn’t lead outside.

“Oh… Sorry, Tom. In the barracks at G&K it’s all us girls, T-dolls, so we just change wherever.”

The pale cutie frolicked into the bathroom to change. A little while later she emerged, and Tom was once again stunned by her appearance. Somehow the boring baggy sleep clothes made this strange girl even more attractive. She had taken out her hair ribbons and the silver locks cascaded around her face in waves. The oversized band shirt that was baggy on him draped snugly over her bosom, the faint outlines leaving little doubt as to the abundance within. The shirt hung down past Spas’ hips, but as she twisted to look at herself around the bulges of her chest, she commented.

“How does it look? It’s a little snug in the hips…”

Spas fixed a sudden glare on Tom, her red eyes daring him to make a crack about her weight or appetite.

“You look great, Spas.” Tom said with sincerity. He gestured at his bed. You can sleep here and I’ll sleep on the couch.

“What? No, I couldn’t let you do that!!”

“Nonsense. I insist.”

“But I’m a soldier, I’m used to sleeping on the ground, out in the war-torn wreckage of the battlefield!”

“All the more reason for you to take advantage of the comfort you’ve so clearly earned.”

Spas turned her head side to side, internal conflict raging.

“But… but…”

Tom stepped up to the shorter girl and put a hand on her shoulder. It was soft to the touch, even through the cotton of his sleep shirt. He deployed what little “game” he had.

“Take the bed, Spas. I’d never get any sleep anyway, if I made such a pretty girl sleep on my couch.”

Spas’ creamy white face turned bright pink, and she looked down at the floor. She probably saw more of the logo on Tom’s shirt stretched over her chest than she saw of the floor, Tom thought.

“O– okay… t-thanks Tom. And thanks for dinner too. I hope I get to try lots more of your American food while I’m here.”

“Sure thing, Spas.” Tom took another bold move and placed a hand on the girl’s head, ruffling her hair. To his surprise she didn’t pull away, but rolled her head in his hand appreciatively, almost purring.

Tom cleared his throat, drawing his hand away. “Okay, sleep well.”

“Sleep well, Tom!”


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