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proxima-writes · 7 months

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Title: No Closer Could I Be To God

Pairing: Post-outbreak!Joel Miller x Female Reader

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 1.3k

Summary:

The closest he’s been to a god in these last few miserable years has been between your thighs.

Dear Reader:

This one is for the homies with religious trauma. If you enjoy this little fic, please comment or reblog! Title art is "Through Cataclysm" by Andreas Birath (b. 1974).

Warnings:

explicit sexual content (18+ MDNI), infidelity, no use of y/n, no reader description or age, single POV - Joel, post-outbreak Jackson, heavy religious themes and imagery, unprotected p in v, oral sex - f receiving, dirty talk, pet names, begging.

Joel Miller gave up on the notion of a benevolent god around the time the light faded from his daughter’s eyes and he was left to hold her lifeless body. Since then, he’s only seen glimpses of that former goodness in the world — in Tess and the way she fought tooth and nail for their survival and in Ellie, once she quit being such a pain in the ass.

But perhaps the closest he’s been to a god in these last few miserable years has been between your thighs.

“Joel!” You cry out, squirming beneath his tight grip. He’s got you laid out on the work bench, thighs hugging his head as he licks and sucks your clit until you’re singing his praises. The storage shed is hot, sweat gathering at his neck and beading at his temple and making his fingers slip against your damp skin.

“Shhh, baby,” he murmurs, dragging his mouth away from your center and licking his lips to gather every drop of you from his flesh. “You’re fuckin’ loud today.”

“Sorry,” you whisper, voice breathy as your chest heaves with desperate breaths. “It’s been too long.”

“I know,” Joel agrees, standing up and leaning forward to steal a kiss, your hot mouth opening immediately for his tongue to explore. You taste like shitty instant coffee and mint, his favorite flavor as long as you're the source. “‘M sorry.”

Your fingers play with the hair at the nape of his neck, nails scratching against his scalp. He drags his lips across your jaw, down your neck, sinking his teeth briefly against your pulse point to make you shiver.

The modest dress you’re wearing is rucked up around your waist and Joel reaches down to slip his fingers past the elastic of your underwear, sinking two digits inside of you and groaning at how tight you are, how warm and wet you get for him. Your quiet whimper reaches his ears and he wishes he could hear you without restraint, wishes he knew how loud you could be. He’s fairly certain it’s as close to a choir of angels he could ever get.

Especially since he’s destined for hell. But that’s neither here nor there. Right now, he’s in heaven.

He removes his fingers, reaching up to slip them past your lips for a quick clean. Your tongue glides across his fingertips and your eyelids flutter shut as he uses his free hand to work his belt open with clumsy movements. He shoves his jeans and boxers down his hips, just enough to expose the hard length of his cock.

Joel pulls his hand away from your face, using his spit slick fingers to pump himself. With his other hand, he reaches into the chest pocket of his flannel shirt for his knife.

Your eyes go wide as he pops the blade open, slipping the cold steel beneath the elastic of your panties and tugging sharply. The fabric snaps, echoing your gasp, your mouth dropped open in surprise. He doesn’t give you long to recover, sliding his cock through your wet folds and smiling in satisfaction as your expression shifts from incredulity to pleasure.

“You ready?” Joel grunts, his tip catching at your entrance. You nod your head rapidly, but he’s in the mood to hear you beg. “Words, sweetheart.”

“Please, Joel,” you murmur. Your lashes glisten with captured tears and the sight makes his blood run hot. “Please, please, please!”

Joel presses forward, sinking into your body with ease. You have one hand on the workbench behind you to support yourself but the other grips his shoulder tightly, fingernails sure to leave little indents in his skin even through the fabric of his shirt.

“Christ,” he hisses, dropping his head into the crook of your neck. “Always feel so fuckin’ good. How is it always so fuckin’ good?”

“Need you to move,” you reply. “Please, Joel.”

And what is he if not your good and faithful servant?

Joel draws his hips back and thrusts sharply, lifting his head to watch your face as he does. This is his favorite part, staring into the Garden of Eden, enjoying his forbidden fruit. You whimper and moan, teeth digging into your bottom lip to keep quiet.

When he feels that knot of pleasure coiling tight in his belly, he curses and chases it all at once. It’s always over too soon when all he wants is to worship at your altar for eternity.

“Angel,” he murmurs, wrapping an arm around your low back as your own circle his shoulders. “Need you to come for me, baby.”

You whine, high and petulant. “No, no, no,” you chant, “Not yet.”

Joel leans forward to capture your lips with his, the action more of a sharing of breath that lacks any coordination of a proper kiss. He slips his hand between your bodies to circle your clit, the responding moan swallowed by his greedy mouth.

“Good thing you don’t make the rules,” he grunts, hips stuttering as you begin to squeeze around him. He may not inherit the kingdom of god, but he at least got a glimpse of heaven today.

Your legs drop from around his waist and he lifts his head to find your gaze. He always worries what he’ll see — disgust, guilt, and shame have all been reflected back at him before. But today…today you just smile softly, your skin damp with sweat and your lips swollen from his kisses and your teeth.

“Joel,” you murmur, pressing a palm to his cheek. “I have to go.”

Joel nods, knowing you’re right. He’s kept you long enough. Gray light filters through the dirt caked window of the little shed and you should get back to your home to get ready for Sunday service.

“I’ll see you around,” he replies, wrapping a hand behind your neck to pull you forward and give you one last hungry kiss before stepping away to right his pants. He holds a hand out to you to help you down from the work bench and watches as you fix your dress.

You give him one last watery smile before leaving through the flimsy wooden door. It slams back against the frame, the sound sharp to Joel’s ears. He sighs, counting to himself as he catalogs the spiderwebs and rusted tools in the shed.

There’s a flash of white in the corner of his eye. The mangled fabric of your panties sits discarded on the ground, and he leans forward to pick them up, pocketing them. For what, he’s not sure, but he’ll take any piece of you he can get.

Even if it’s just the part you’ve carelessly left behind.

________

Later, your husband stands at the dented podium to deliver his Sunday morning sermon to the good people of Jackson who still turn to religion for comfort and guidance. Joel isn’t one of those people, but he sits on a rough wooden bench across the aisle from you. Your panties are still tucked away in his pocket and he wonders if you’ve cleaned up already, or if you’re still full of him even as you sit there watching your husband.

“…And we see this spoken of in Proverbs 7:25 — ‘Do not let your heart turn to her ways or stray into her paths. Many are the victims she has brought down; her slain are a mighty throng. Her house is a highway to the grave, leading down to the chambers of death’.”

Joel looks towards you as the words settle among the crowd. Your gaze remains steadfastly on your husband, but your hands move restlessly in your lap. When Joel looks up at the podium, he finds your husband’s righteous glare trained on him.

Maybe Joel was wrong. He hasn’t found heaven in you.

He’s just found a deeper hell.

Joel Miller masterlist

All masterlists

#joel miller x reader #joel miller #joel miller fic #joel miller smut #joel miller x female reader #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller x you #joel tlou #no use of y/n #joel x reader #tw infidelity #tw cheating #tw religious themes #tw religious mention #tw religious imagery

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weird-an · 3 months

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Billy: It's Adam and Eve, not Adam and Steve.

Steve: …

Billy: It's Billy and Steve. Who is this Adam guy-

Steve: Are you fucking serious?

#billy heard some protesters yell that and immediately got jelly #tw religious mention #harringrove #billy x steve #billy hargrove #steve x billy

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incorrectbatfam · 1 year

Conversation

Duke: Have you ever read something so explicit that you feel like you need to go to church and stay there for a year?

Cullen: Send it to me.

#source: incorrect skam #duke thomas #signal #cullen row #batfamily #incorrect batfamily quotes #batfam #batboys #batbros #batkids #batsiblings #batman family #incorrect quotes #incorrect dc quotes #dc comics #tw religious mention

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your-mom-friend · 9 months

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I think maybe the saddest thing about extremely religious people is that they genuinely believe that you’ll go to hell if you don’t accept their Lord. I mean this mostly about Muslims, I can’t speak much for Christianity

I was raised in a Muslim country. In the schools there all Muslim students had to attend Islamic studies classes, while the non-Muslim students had moral science classes.

Aside from Islamic history and theology, one of the first things that I was taught that really stuck to me, was that people who rejected the word of Allah would be sent to Jahannam (Hell). Those who were ignorant of the True Religion would be spared but anyone who had heard the Truth of Allah and didn’t accept it? They would go to hell. My teacher even said that in this day and age, with access to the internet, no one has the excuse of being ignorant now.

It terrified me. What about my friends? My school had Hindus and Christian galore. What about them? They were good people. Were they going to hell? Couldn’t I help them? One of my other Muslim friends actually started sobbing about it. “Rem.. I don’t- I don’t want my friends to go to Hell, Rem”

We were Seven. Years. Old.

No kid deserves that

And as I’ve grown older I’ve only seen more of it. And I feel heartbroken. These are people that truly believe in their faith and within that belief they’re taking the most moral action they are capable of taking. They don’t want people to go to hell. They want people to go to heaven. They are so fearful of their Lord that they’re willing to be the bad guy in this life to see you next to them in Jannah (Heaven). They believe that. With their entire hearts and it crushes me every single time.

I think about it every time my mother talks about modesty. I think about it every time my father reminds me about prayer. Everytime one of the elder relatives reminds us kids to read the Quran.

I think about it every time I remember that I told my sister that I was terrified that one day she wouldn’t keep my sexuality a secret because she believed it would be the morally correct thing to tell my parents and she couldn’t look at me and say that it wouldn’t happen.

And I’m never going to be able to hate them for it, because I’ll know in my heart that they’re doing what they’re doing with the best of intentions even if it fucking kills me and every damn time I think about it it makes me burst into tears

#rem rambles #tw religious mention #tw religious trauma #ex muslim #ex religious #the inherent guilt of existing as a Muslim

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danipedrosas-boatest · 28 days

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Hi, this is very random but please do not make jokes about Fabio’s religion.

This is slightly biased because I’m also Catholic, but please do not make jokes about his faith to support your opinions about the sport. It’s one thing to not know that he’s religious, but it’s a whole other thing to make jokes about it. It’s very offensive.

Fabio has talked about being Catholic before, as well as having tattoos with the cross, a cathedral, and a nun. This clearly means a lot to him and they are not just for aesthetic purposes.

#tw religion #tw religious imagery #tw religious mention #tw catholicism #motogp #moto gp #fabio quartararo #fq20 #yamaha #text #txt

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goodchristianmemes · 2 years

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kurtis

#good christian memes #meme #tw religious mention #lmao #christian memes #tweet #twitter #lol #tweets #kurtis conner #kurtis #kurtistown #noah’s ark

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robo-milky · 11 months

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[Context for Reverend Rook]

Ended up turning this into a lighthearted meme but damn- the brainrot hitting hard… My headache suddenly stopped after I finished this, so I think it’s a miracle???

Either way— to that one niche community of Reverend or Nun! Rook enjoyers— ily and me too <3

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yanderemommabean · 1 year

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Silly letter from August

((I made a little letter idea with August! It's nothing much just him gushing about his crush and such! -Mommabean))

To Whom It Concerns,

I was once promised an afterlife of eternal bliss if I followed the footsteps that my ancestors laid before me. But I feel, since meeting you, I’ve been blessed even more than any religious figure could gift me.

You do more to me than any private church session. You warm me more than any family meal by the fire. You make my eyes widen with awe and joy when you do anything, such as smiling my way or showing me how you handle your animals.

I’m not one to question my faith often, never once, if I'm being quite honest. But being with you has made me question everything lately, and I’ve even considered some rather unholy things just to know what it’s like to love you fully.

You’ve haven’t even been here a year and you’ve captured a soul like me. I wonder who else has been wrangled by your looks and your energy. I envy them if they can sleep at night without you beside them.

I’m a man who’s always hungry, and for you, it only grows. I starve for your kiss, for your touch, to feel your hand in mine as we walk down the aisle or simply lie side by side.

I know this whole thing is nothing but a ramblin man going on and on, but it has a meaning, I promise!

I plan to make you mine. Doesn’t matter what the town thinks, what the church thinks, hell, doesn’t matter what you think. I’m sure we’re meant to be, and I won’t let you slip away. We’ll be together one way or another, and if God is truly watching, he’ll offer his help to get you in my arms.

Your diligent lover,

August.

#tw religious mention #southern yandere #yandere scenarios #yandere imagines #yandere cowboy #yandere male #mommabean #yandere letter #my ocs #august my oc

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wishiwasnevermo · 9 months

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okay every once in a while ill remember some random thing from my upbringing in the church. i don't know if anyone else heard this growing up but, in young women's, so many times when the leaders asked someone to say the prayer and no one volunteered they'd say that the more you pray the hotter your husband will be like 💀💀 hello wtf

i know lots of religions use rewards/punishments to get people to do things, but this one is just so weird to me. yeah anyone else have this experience? i wouldn't be surprised if it's common.

(also not everyone wants a husband 👀)

#mine #cult #ex cult #exlds #exmo #exmormon #tw religious mention #religious trauma

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knight-engale · 2 months

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a strange request.

pairing: kuras/oc, kuras/mc

words: 1.6k

summary: after receiving an odd request from morgan, kuras decides to check on her, concerned for her safety.

warnings: accidental/involuntary voyeurism, references to religious guilt

a/n: inspired by a prompt @popcornaddict500 mentioned to me a while ago. i would have made this an "x reader" sort of thing but due to the nature of the fic, it just didn't work out without being awkward, so instead enjoy my mc i guess lol

Kuras quietly flipped through his patient notes, occasionally writing something down. He was always so busy tending to the sick and injured that it was rare that he had a moment to thoroughly review and update his records. There was always so much catching up to do…so much work to be done.

He was so absorbed in his record-keeping that he almost didn't notice the sound of someone knocking at the door. Only when it became more insistent did he look up. He quietly tucked his notes away and went to answer it.

“Good afternoon, how may I help you…” His golden eyes turned downward, his eyebrows lifting slightly when he realized who it was. “Ah, hello Morgan. Come in.”

He stepped aside, allowing the young woman to enter. She looked rather embarrassed, pulling her cloak a little more tightly around herself as she came into the office.

“Hello, Kuras… Thank you for letting me in.”

“Of course. How are your accommodations at the Wet Wick treating you?”

“It's been fine… Relatively comfortable, though I do wish I had ear plugs.”

Kuras gave that comment a small smile, his eyes shining pleasantly. “Is that why you've come to me?”

“No… I, um. You said I could see you if I needed anything, right?”

“That is correct.”

“Then…could you tell me if there's any…sources of water near the city…?” Morgan fidgeted with the hem of her cloak, her pale green eyes fixated on the floor as if it was the most interesting thing in the room. Kuras looked at her in surprise for the second time today.

“Sources of water? There is the river, I suppose… Why do you need one?”

“Ah…just…just because. It can't be the river, though… I need it to be more private than that. And cleaner.”

“I see. Unfortunately, I cannot recall any other water sources… There are public wells scattered around the city, which are free to anyone. Could you not use one of those?”

“No… It has to be bigger than that, and private. Please.”

Kuras considered her for a long moment. She was clearly distressed about this issue. He felt bad about disappointing her, but there wasn't much of a choice. He eventually let out a quiet sigh. Words came from his mouth before he could stop them.

“...There is one place I'm aware of that may provide the privacy you desire. However, I cannot in good conscience recommend it to you. I highly doubt it would be…safe.” He regretted speaking even as the words left him.

Morgan looked up. A few locks of her dark blue hair fell in front of her face. “What is it? The spot you're thinking of?”

He sighed quietly. “There is a freshwater spring outside of the city, to the west. It is fairly secluded.”

“That's perfect! To the west, you said?”

“Yes…but Morgan, I cannot stress enough that the safety of this spot is dubious. There is no shelter there; it is open and exposed to anything that may be nearby. Soulless are more common outside the city. I ask you to not go there.”

“If you didn't want me to go there, you shouldn't have told me about it.”

Kuras didn't have a good response for that. She was right; he shouldn't have mentioned it. But he couldn't retract it now. She looked determined to go out to the spring regardless of his warnings.

“Unless you have anything else to tell me, I should get going now. Thank you for your help.”

“...I've nothing else to tell you. I only request that you think about this. Lowtown may not be the safest of places, but it's still better than being alone and exposed out in the wastes. For your own well-being, I urge you to reconsider. The wells and river may not be ideal, but-”

“I appreciate your concern, but I can't do that. I'll be fine. Won't be outside the city very long at all.” Morgan didn't give him a chance to respond to that before leaving. Kuras stared at the door for a while after she left.

She was going to get herself killed, and it was going to be his fault. More needless death that he had failed to prevent.

Another knock at the door pulled him out of his thoughts. More work, no doubt. He took a deep, regretful breath to steel himself before answering the door again.

~~~

Half an hour passed before Kuras had a chance to slip away. He wouldn't usually leave during the middle of the day like this, but Ais was looking after the clinic for now, and…he couldn't get the idea of Morgan, alone and without any protection, out of his head. The guilt was eating him alive. He never should have told her about the spring.

His only consolation was the hope that, if she had been attacked, she'd only be injured and not killed. Injuries could be mended, but death was far more difficult to fix.

That hope is what drove Kuras as he swept through the city streets. Perhaps there was a chance that she was alright, and he'd been worried for nothing. However, if she wasn't, at least he'd likely be able to save her.

People in the streets practically jumped out of his way as he went by. Few people wanted to be in the way of someone so imposing who was walking with such purpose. It made the trek to the west side of the city much easier. He hesitated to leave it, though. The fear of what he may find if a Soulless had gotten to her was uncomfortable, to put it lightly. But he'd come so far already. There was no point in turning back…and he would surely regret it if he did. He'd rather know, even if he wasn't sure he'd like what he found.

Eventually he found the courage to continue on his little mission and left the city borders. He knew the way to the spring by heart, so it didn't take long. The little spring was surrounded by moderately sized stones and tall, if scraggly, shrubs, giving some semblance of privacy. Just what Morgan had desired. None of the shrubs or stones seemed to have been disturbed. There was no sign of Soulless in the nearby area.

More importantly, he could hear humming. It was unmistakably Morgan's voice. He took great care to be as surreptitious as possible as he approached.

There, standing in the shallower areas of the water, was Morgan, bathing herself. She was unharmed, and apparently not even slightly frightened or bothered by the riskiness of her current situation. Her clothes were neatly folded near her, and a bucket and washcloth were settled within arm’s reach. Heat rose in Kuras's cheeks as she stood up straight and stretched.

He had, of course, seen her naked body before when he saved her from dying out in the wastes. But that had been under purely professional circumstances. There had been nothing particularly attractive about cutting away her clothes and stitching her back together.

This, though? This was…different. This time, she was awake and well. This time, it was impossible to not notice the delicateness of her waist or the way her back arched when she raised her arms over her head. He couldn't help but stare a little at her generous thighs and wide hips, the way they swayed gently as she washed herself. The way the water rolled down every curve and contour of her body as she emptied the bucket onto herself was captivating. And her breasts…they were the most perfect pair he'd ever seen. Her whole body was perfect, really. It had been ages since he'd seen a body so beautiful. So divine, in the literal sense of the word; she could have been easily mistaken for one of his own kind in a human form.

The more he stared, the faster his heart began to beat. The warmer his face became. He couldn't tear his eyes away from the living work of art standing in the spring. His gaze lingered on her while she ran her washcloth along her flawless golden-bronze skin. Even her hands and forearms, discolored and crisscrossed with gold fissures, were beautiful, regardless of the curse he sensed in them. A living work of art indeed.

But she was no mere painting, either. No painting had ever made him feel quite like this. This…mortal. This fallible. If he was being honest with himself, not many people made him feel this way nowadays, either. Very few could awaken this deep, sinful hunger in him. And yet she, this woman he'd known for less than a full week…

Morgan's head began to turn in his direction. Kuras ducked down, hoping he was fast enough that she hadn't spotted him. If she had, she didn't cry out in surprise or even speak a word. He sat on the hard, dusty ground, trying to settle himself. As if accidentally seeing her in such a vulnerable situation wasn't bad enough, his mind couldn't shake the mental image of her, either. He almost couldn't help but feel…dirty. Dirty, and greatly intrigued, captivated by the spell her image put on him.

He would…have to consider these feelings more later. Privately. And perhaps, if he concluded that he hadn't done anything wrong in thinking of her in such a sinful way…perhaps he'd say something to her. He wasn't sure what he would say, but he felt the need to express his...appreciation of her beauty somehow. Perhaps this was a rare mercy, a god-given opportunity to fill the void of loneliness in his ancient heart. Only time would tell.

#touchstarved game #touchstarved fanfic #touchstarved kuras #touchstarved oc #kuras x mc #tw voyeurism #tw religious mention #morgan the oracle #the oracle's angel #morkuras #this is so self indulgent..#*pats kuras* this baby can fit so much catholic guilt

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cecilnightvalepalmer · 1 month

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~TransMormon OC~

New OC for my AU time!

This is Hallie! She's a transcis woman (born female but feels like she should be transfem in some way), transmormon, and transBYU!

When she was 12 years old, she had a near death experience when her and her mother got mugged and she got her throat slit. Fortunately, she was saved after being sewn up and resuscitated! She swears that she saw God / Heaven though, and has never been able to live it down, as she was raised in an atheist family due to her mother's religious trauma.

She's a heavy metal fan and enjoys a band called Dead Girlz, which is popular in the universe of my OCs! The main singer is a Satanist though so it does give her a little bit of dysphoria listening to it on bad days!

One day, while she was 16, she was home alone and some Mormon Missonaries knocked on her door, thay had a conversation with her and left, but it left her with a hole in her heart that she couldn't quite place.

After that she did some research and joined the radqueer community, labeling herself as TransMormon and deciding she wanted to attend BYU and move to Utah!

After turning 18, her current age, she moved out and is currently living in Oklahoma, where her and her mother have lived all her life, saving up to move to Utah!

She considers herself to be TransMormon as her beliefs don't line up with the church but due to her near-death experience and experience with door-knockers, she decided that she believes in the Mormon faith!

The radqueer community is where she feels safest, and although she isn't a big poster, she still has moots, like High, that she interacts with often!

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