Can you make a smut story where you move into a neighbourhood and your neighbour is Joel Miller from the last of us

…BLUEBERRY PIE

mechanic!joel miller x neighbour!reader, no use of y/n, swearing, suggestive material, age gap (reader is 26 and joel is 48), smut!, teasing, flashing?, oral (m receiving), blunt!joel, throat fucking lowkey, smut!, unprotected p in v (don’t do this!!!!!),

ive never seen the last of us so i hope this is good !

(masterlist) (nav)

“fuck fuck fuck!” you cried out, slamming your hands on your dashboard. you weren’t going anywhere were you needed to be urgently, but your car wasn’t starting again. you weren’t sure what was wrong with it, and you didn’t have enough time to call a repair man or whatever.

the grocery store was going to close in forty-five minutes, and your cabinets were empty. your head is flung back on the seat, wondering what your next move will be, until you hear a light tapping to your left. you turn to the window, and sure enough, it was your neighbour.

he was a conventionally attractive man, his beard lightly peppered with grey hairs and smile to die for. he wasn’t an annoying neighbour, he lived on his own and only ever had family over.

you roll down the window, plastering a small fake smile on your face. “hi” you say, more eager than you meant to. “y’know, i’ve seen you been having troubles with your car the last few days. i can take it down to my shop if you want my to fix it up” he suggests, leaning on the car.

you take a breath in, eyes darting around the car. there wasn’t many decisions to be made, so you let him. “y’know what, that’d actually be great” you reply, deciding maybe doordash was the way to go for tonight.

“alright, when d’ya need it back?” he asks you. “well, it’s kinda late, you sure?” you ask him. “yeah, don’t you worry your pretty head. where y’off to?” he asks as you step out of the car. “oh just out” you smile. every fibre in his being wants to know where you’re going, who you’re seeing, and what you’re doing. he composes himself, leaning on the door.

“i can start working on it right now if y’d like.” “i mean if it isn’t a burden to you” you say. “sweetheart it’s prob’ly nothing.” he reassures you. “pop the hood, will ya?”

ever since you moved in, he’s been waiting for a moment to strike. however, when he got tired of waiting for that moment, he may or may not have replaced your perfectly fine starter with a faulty one from the shop while you were out. it was a simple excuse to talk to you, no matter how invading it was.

you open the hood of your car, and before he even takes a look he comes with a conclusion. “it’s your starter” you look up at him, the hood of the car ajar, not even propped fully open yet. “oh… did you get a chance to take a look?” you ask with unease lacing your voice. he silently curses himself for being too eager and runs a hand over his face. “yeah, i’ve just seen this uh… problem lots and the lead cause is a faulty starter.” he stammers, and you just shrug.

“so how do we fix that?” you tilt your head. “we gotta change it.” he notices your head tilt even more so he elaborates. “i might have a spare in my garage.” you nod, wanting to question further, but remembering he’s a licensed mechanic.

you weren’t really paying attention to what he was doing. his large hands ran over his hair, and you noticed he didn’t have a ring on. you wanted to ask about it, but you respected his privacy. “hey?” he says, snapping you out of your thoughts. “car’s done.” you smile, “lovely, thank you! how much would it be?” you ask, reaching for your purse to get your wallet.

“don’t worry ‘bout it.” he shrugs slightly. “oh c’mon, i insist.” you state. “absolutely not, it’s nothing. helping a neighbour out.” he smiles. you sigh, “if you’re sure, but i will pay you back.” he stifles a small chuckle.

time skip a few days

ever since that day, you realized all of the ‘coincidences’ you never really did. how whenever you were gardening, joel just happened to be on his patio. or, whenever you needed to walk down to the market, joel needed to walk his dog.

so, if he was watching you, you decided to give him something to watch. it was after you came back home from the tennis court down the street and noticed joel staring at you from his window. you smile when you notice him and he nods. what was this, the eighth time you caught him staring this week? such a perv.

you walk up to your front door, noticing a package sitting on the step. a smile touches your face when you notice joel still staring in your peripheral vision. you bend down to reach the package, exposing your ass about halfway, only for him to see.

you pick it up, unlocking your door and walking in, catching joel’s eye. you set the package down and shut your door, smiling to yourself.

you get in the shower, scrubbing sweat and dirt off your body as you think to yourself about joel’s flustered look, the way his eyes widened…

a few hours later, you finish some work and decide to bake something. baking was always a hobby of yours, most of the time you didn’t eat them but gave them to your family. you prep your ingredients for a blueberry pie.

it doesn’t take you long to make it, moving with practiced ease as you guide your way around the kitchen. after about forty-five minutes, you put the pie in the oven to cook. you sit at your table, scrolling through your pinterest boards and answering texts for a bit.

then, you hear someone knock on your door. you walk to the front door, lo and behold, it’s joel. perfect. you open the door to be greeted by his beautiful eyes.

“hey, sorry to bother you, but i think one of my packages got shipped here?” he asks. you remember the parcel you picked up earlier, teasing joel. “oh- oh yeah i think it did. come on in, it’s cold out.” you invite him in. the autumn weather was always chilly in the afternoons. you placed the parcel on your table earlier whilst examining it.

“here you are mr. miller” you smile, handing him the package. your voice and the name you called him made him hard. he tried to cover it by placing the package over his crotch, when the oven beeps. your blueberry pie was done, so you excuse yourself to get it. “smells lovely” joel informs you, to which you smile.

“would you like to try some?” you ask, turning your head to meet his. “that’d be wonderful.” he says. you inform him that it’s hot, and grab two plates to put two slices of pie on. “can i get you a glass of wine?” you ask, placing the plates down. “well- i… why not, thank you.” he says. you grab two wine glasses and pour a rosé into them, then two forks.

you sit across from joel, placing the wine and forks down. the two of you talk and eat, practically a date. it might’ve been the few glasses of white wine you had earlier, but you were hot and bothered. apparently your eyes lingered on him for a bit too long, and he notices.

“y’staring, sweetheart.” he whispered. shit. “ ‘s rude.” you look down at your half eaten pie, then back at him. “was not” you say, batting your lashes at him. “really? then explain why i’m so hard.” his bluntness catches you off guard. “y’invite me in, butter me up, bat those pretty lashes at me, of course i’m as hard as a rock.” your breath catches in your throat.

“y’want me to do something about it?” you ask, tilting your head. he sits back, giving you a look of approval. “be my guest” he says, and you don’t waste time.

you’re on your knees, undoing his jeans. he’s made a tent in his boxers, and you run your hand over it. he was bigger than you expected. nonetheless, you take his boxers off, wanting to make him proud. his member is already leaking precum, to which you lick up.

you flick your tongue over his slit, a jolt of pleasure running through him. his hands tangle in your hair, holding your head ever so slightly. you take him halfway in your mouth, warming his cock. your head slowly bobs up and down, feeling him grow even more excited.

“fuuuucck.” he groans, slowly pushing his hips up more. he slightly thrusts more and more into your mouth until he’s face fucking you. just the feeling of him down your throat makes you wet in your panties. you feel for something to grind against, anything, but are met with nothing.

you moan, sending a vibration on his dick to which he thrusts harder. broken words and groans escape his lips until he’s holding your head while his seed coats your throat. his breaths get heavier as you get up and wipe your lips with paper towel.

“get on the couch” he instructs. you just stand there, watching him fully take his jeans off. “couch. now.” his tone is authoritative now, only making you wetter. you obey, walking over to the couch and sitting down.

he isn’t wearing any clothes as he pulls your shirt off. “shit” he licks his lips at the sight. he lays you down on the couch horizontally, pulling your leggings down. there’s an obvious wet patch on your panties, to which he smirks.

he cups your cunt, softly running his fingers over your clit. you whimper at the softest of touches as he pulls your panties down. “fuck… you’re teasing me all the time- you don’t know how long i’ve waited for this.” he says, pushing two fingers inside of you. you gasp at the sudden change of pressure, grabbing onto his shoulders for support.

“fuck… joel please” you groan, and he smiles at the sound of his name on your lips. “please what?” you groan again. “please fuck me… fuck i need you so bad please…!” you whine. he takes his fingers out of you, replacing them with his cock.

you groan at the pleasurable stretch. his thrust start slow, but grow faster over time. your moans are filling the room as he repeatedly pushes into your cervix.

“j-joel…! i’m gonna cum!” you moan, dragging your nails across his back. “fuck show me how good you feel sweetheart… that’s right” he groans. “fuckin’ cum for me… what a good girl.” he coo’s at your fucked-out state, riding out his high as his seed paints your insides. “fuck…” you moan quietly.

“y’gotta start making me blueberry pie more often sweetheart.”

tessa’s notes… rushed as heck i’m sorry 😮‍💨

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© tessasturns