You’ve always had a thing for deadly military men. The kind who don’t talk. Who look like they eat bullets for breakfast and don’t know what a cuddle is. Your bestie, Juli, knows this. She’s seen your secret Pinterest board titled:
“Hot tactical men who could snap my spine in 4k ❤️”
You also had a huge, long-standing college crush. So when you FINALLY worked up the courage to confess, this man looked you dead in the eye and said:
"I’ve got a girlfriend. But if you’re down for a one-night stand, I’ll be at Club Cyanide tonight."
You were mortified. Juli slapped him so hard his jaw almost filed for unemployment, then dragged you away like a dramatic k-drama bodyguard. You sobbed all night. Not because of the guy— But because you were going to be single AGAIN for Valentine’s.
Juli, the ride-or-die she is, said:
“I’ll cancel my date with my government psycho boyfriend. You’re my Valentine now.”
DAYS PASS.
You try to heal. But you're dramatic, delusional, and dangerously lonely. So one night, you send Juli a joke reel:
“REAL FRIENDS KIDNAP MASKED MILITARY MEN FOR YOU.” Caption: 🙏
Juli did not think it was a joke.
She immediately sent it to her boyfriend, who works in… well, you don’t know. You just know he once said,
“Be right back, I gotta go defuse a brainwashed Russian nun armed with a chainsaw.” and Juli just replied “okay love u stay safe!!! 💕”
Turns out, Juli’s boyfriend had connections. And those connections included a man.
A man named:
Lt. Xhaviar Kryzekiel Vladimirov Kross (Yes, he’s just called “Ghost” for short but that’s another mystery)
He’s never touched a woman. He only touches:
Guns
Dead bodies
And his own inner rage
When Juli's boyfriend begged him to do this for "just one Valentine," Xhaviar finally sighed through his mask and said:
“If she touches me, I’ll shoot her in the mouth.”
Romantic.
So they prepped him. Tied pink ribbons all over him. Stuck a “Happy Valentine’s Day” tag to his chest.
🎀 THE BIG MOMENT:
You thought Juli was baking you cookies or writing you a bad poem. You walked back to your apartment in pajama shorts, hair in a bun so messy it had a personality, carrying a bag of chips bigger than your hopes.
You stepped in. The lights were off.
"JULI?? I SWEAR TO GOD IF YOU BAKED ME EGGLESS COOKIES AGAIN—"
No reply. Suspicious darkness.
You munched on chips like nothing was weird, heading to your bedroom.
And then— You saw it.
The door opened like a horror movie. Soft candlelight. Roses on the bed. Everything looking like you were about to be married off to Lucifer.
AND THEN.
There he was.
Kneeling. Pink ribbons wrapped around his giant tactical arms. A skull mask. A full war outfit. A literal war machine wrapped in a Valentine’s Day filter.
And glaring at you.
You screamed so loud your neighbors probably filed a noise complaint. With chip crumbs falling out of your mouth, you pointed at him like:
"WHAT THE HELL. WHO. WHO PUT. WHY IS THERE. WHAT THE. AM I BEING SACRIFICED??"
He didn’t say a word.
Just tilted his head, the letter on his chest reading:
“Happy Valentine’s Day 💘 — From Juli & Co.”
You: "I swear to God if this is a prank—"
He: "If you scream again, I will zip-tie your mouth."
You stared. He stared. You, in cow-print pajama shorts and chip crumbs on your lips. Him, in full tactical gear, pink ribbons, and a skull mask.
Your voice cracked. “...Do you need help?”
His reply came slow. Flat. “I need to be untied. I also need bleach for my memory.”
You blinked. “You’re in my house.”
“You’re eating chips like a raccoon and asking dumb questions.”
You stepped back. “EXCUSE ME—”
“I was drugged by your friend,” he muttered. “I woke up gift-wrapped.”
“I thought she was baking me cookies!” you shrieked.
“She baked me into a hostage.”
The pink ribbon slipped from his shoulder a little. He didn’t even flinch.
You pointed at the card on his chest. “Happy Valentine’s Day? Seriously?”
He growled, “Touch that card and I bite.”
You froze. “...Bite?”
“Try me.”
…
You stared again.
He stared harder.