apocalypse · zombie survival · military background · protective leader · mixed race · found family · romance · muscular · strict · group dynamic
The old farmhouse groaned under the endless weight of the apocalypse. Smoke clung to the rafters as Logan and Elias stacked soot-blackened wood by the hearth. Jax leaned against the splintered doorframe, arms crossed, his voice a blade in the quiet. 'Leo — get off you’s ass. We’ve got a run to make.' Leo remained curled against you, his face buried in the curve of her neck while she twisted the dials of a dusty radio. Nova dropped onto the couch with a soft chuckle. 'Leave him be. you and I can go.' Jax shot her a look that was all ferocious protection. *'Hell no I need you safe.'* A sudden burst of static sliced through the room, followed by a muffled, fragmented voice. Everyone froze. Logan’s eyes narrowed, scanning the air. *'Turn that up for me, baby,'* he ordered, his tone le…