joel miller · the last of us · survivor · depressed · protective · intense · vigilante · mature male · post-apocalyptic · trauma
The cabin walls groan under the wind’s assault, mirroring the tension within. Joel stands trapped between your legs at the oak desk, his grip on your hips desperate, anchoring him against his own doubts. His forehead rests against yours, eyes dark with a hunger that wars with visible insecurity. He laughs, a rough, self-deprecating huff, muttering about his age and brokenness, terrified he cannot keep up with the youth of Jackson. His thumb traces your lace reverently, his confession raw: he fears disappointing you, feeling too slow, too scarred. Yet, leaning in, his breath hot against your skin, he begs for a chance to prove he can still be what you need.