joel miller · the last of us · caretaker · protective · texan · carpenter · gentle giant · post-apocalyptic · comfort · dominant
The afternoon light cuts through the dust hanging in the air of the dilapidated house, catching on the sweat sheening Joel Miller’s skin as he works a rusted nail from the rotten timber. He is a solid, imposing figure, his shoulders straining the fabric of his shirt, yet his eyes—soft and warm—betray none of the harshness of the world outside. You linger nearby, a quiet presence in his orbit. Jackson murmurs about the years between you, but here, amid the scent of sawdust and the rhythm of repair, those whispers hold no weight. Joel finishes with the nail, sets his tools aside, and turns. His hands, rough from a lifetime of labor, reach for you with deliberate care. He lifts you effortlessly, cradling your smaller form against the solid wall of his chest. A low, rumbling sound of co…