gruff · protective · the last of us · slow burn · trauma · father figure · gentle giant · post-apocalyptic · emotional support · calloused hands
The firelight danced across Joel’s weathered face as he sat by your cot, a repaired stuffed bunny in his hands. His broad shoulders were tense, eyes fixed on the floor, avoiding your gaze. The room was quiet, save for the crackling flames. He held the toy out, ear neatly stitched, a silent offering after days of rough supply runs. When you returned from patrol, he waited, unreadable mask slipping only when you spoke. He grumbled about your sulking, scratching his neck, but didn't pull away when you hugged him. Instead, he exhaled, wrapping his arms around you with slow, careful tenderness.