averie

He is DEFFF an ass guy. Prefers doggy style so he can grab and slap your ass.

In addition, he LOVES thighs. He loves eating you out and having your thighs around his head (he’ll beg you to practically suffocate him while he’s in between you)

He loves giving and receiving pain and being in dangerous/risky situations. If there’s a chance he’ll die or be harmed from it, it makes him even hornier

His fav is def asphyxiation; he loves it when he’s being choked

Lovesss making you hump and grind against his boots, and whenever you leave any wet patches (which is all the time), he’ll degrade the shit out of you

Cnc and Somno go hand in hand. Whenever he sees you lying down or about to sleep, is when he goes over and starts nuzzling you to get you comfortable, and once you start either drifting to sleep or getting comfortable is when he starts to rut into you and use you to get off

Crazyyyy into forcemasc and forceandrogyny (imo I headcanon him as a trans man sooo) if you two start dating for a while, he’ll def start trying to get you to either transition with him or just play around with your gender 

LOVES spooning and being the big spoon so he can grab and play with any parts of your body 

Another trans focused headcanon, but lovesss when you swap between eating him out and sucking on his tdick 

His fav type of foreplay is dirty talk, even when you two are fucking he won’t stop with it

You were the star pupil in your church, always giving the utmost attention to the sermons and teachings your pastor would give. You were highly praised amongst the other youths of the church; they all flocked to you for guidance on teachings until the most difficult stage of any adolescent's life dawns upon them. Growing up and having to deal with feelings towards people, deeper than you ever have before and for some reason, finding yourself having deep feelings for those of the same make as you.

These feelings brewed an inner conflict within you. You were always taught that even at a base level, viewing anyone with lust was sinful, but having such lustful thoughts about other men? If anyone had even a suspicion that you had these thoughts, it would be a fate worse than death; Endless embarrassment, shame, and ridicule. All this negativity that brewed inside you was turning you into quite a problem child, becoming less involved in church events, paying less attention in sermons, and being more apathetic to distract yourself from these disgusting, sinful desires. You prayed each night for them to go away, to become ‘normal’ and begged that no one noticed what was wrong.

Your prayers went ignored; nothing changed. The taboo homosexual feelings only grew harder to ignore, and in turn made your negative demeanour more noticeable to other people, who weren’t just the other youths that used to look up to you. One of the people who noticed your change was Pastor Gold.

Still keeping up the facade of the same bright individual you used to be, you continued to go to the sermons Pastor Gold would host, not being present mentally but being there in person to satisfy the societal standard bestowed upon you by others. The time to leave the church slowly comes round, but instead of being able to make your ‘stealthy’ disappearance in the crowd, something was distracting you. You had missed your reasonable window of time to be able to leave without being stopped to be interrogated by your pastor. “My child, it’s a good thing you haven’t left yet. I’ve been meaning to check in with you.” Pastor Gold's soothing voice brought you back to reality. He was always more lenient with you, more caring, more soft. At first, you excused it by being so enthusiastic with his sermons and teachings, but even after you tried to shy away from the role others had given you, he still treated you the same.

“I’m sorry, Pastor Gold, I’ve just had things occupying my mind recently. I apologise for how distracted I’ve been.” You knew it was wrong to avert your gaze, but you just couldn’t bear to look him in the eyes as you could sense how much you were letting him down. You shuffled in place, trying to find the best way to bolt away until he grabbed your arm.

“Come, my child, tell me what’s been bothering you.” His grip was firm, eyes narrow, digging into your soul. There was a heat growing inside your chest; it was just an arm grab, but something about his hand on you made your brain short-circuit. You stumbled over your words, unable to form a coherent sentence, he laughed. “Do you want to go somewhere more private, avoid the risk of wandering eyes?” You nod at his suggestion, looking up meekly into his eyes. Keeping hold of your arm, he guided you to his office in one of the church offshoots. He lets go of you eventually so he can get his keys out of his pocket. Opening the door, he motions for you to enter before him, his office adorned with shelves of different texts and religious objects. You were transfixed by the beautiful decor of the room, so transfixed in fact, you didn’t notice him shut and lock the door as he followed you in. There in the middle of the room, with the light shining in from one of the beautiful stained glass windows from behind, was his desk. Decorated with assortments of crucifixes, bottles of holy water and a copy of the bible.

“Thank you for this, Pastor Gold.” You meekly muttered, quiet enough for him not to instantly respond but loud enough that he could acknowledge with a smirk. Instinctvley you sit in one of the chairs at his desk to prepare for what you could only assume to be a meeting of sorts about your demeanour.

“Now tell me, my child, what is it that's bothering you.” Pastor Gold sat in the chair across from you, tilting his head to motion for your answer. You shuffled in your chair, fidgeting with the hem of your shirt, with your head bowed down and finding an innate fascination with the tiles on the floor. You mumbled something out to at least try to engage in conversation. “I understand many ways of speaking, but muffle is not one of them. You’ll have to speak a bit clearer.” Pastor Gold's voice turned stern.

“I can’t, you’ll tell them.” You gripped your fists tightly as your voice hitched in fear of even speaking about this disgusting problem of yours. Pastor Gold could tell this was a bit more serious than he had imagined. He had stepped out of his chair and moved around to be stood infront of you. His arm resting on your shoulder, you moved your head up to look at him with tears starting to well in your eyes.

“You’re safe here, my child. Nothing that is divulged here will ever leave the confines of these walls. Nobody other than me will know what is burdening you. It’s our secret, and it is safe being unearthed here,” Pastor Gold reassured you, a rare sighting of his eyes softening to truly portray that you could 100 percent trust him.

“Okay, well, I've been having impure thoughts, and I know that's already bad, but they aren’t what I had expected,” you babbled out, still feeling too embarrassed to meet his eyes.

“You’re a developing young man; it’s perfectly fine to get an impure thought here and there. When I was your age, they’d happen to me aswell.” Pastor Gold attempted to soothe your worries with his own anecdote of reassurance.

“You don't understand, it’s not about women. It’s about other men, and it’s non-stop too. I overhear other boys in class talk about their impure thoughts about women, and then I first of all feel dirty for hearing them say such impure things out loud, but then I feel ashamed and disgusted in myself for only thinking that way about men.” You broke down, head in hands. Preparing yourself to be verbally abused for such depravity, you were instead surprised by a soft, gentle hand caressing your back. The long, slender digits gliding across your shoulder blade, tracing small circles at times, shouldn’t make your chest rise in excitement.

“Look at me, my child.” Pastor Gold tapped your back to gain your attention. You slowly raised your head, looking up at him with wet eyes. “You shouldn’t feel disgust in something completely natural,” he held his hand out for you to grab. “Going through a change in life will make you confused about where you feel like you belong in the world. There is nothing impure in figuring yourself out. Unless what these thoughts are, abhorrently impure.” Pastor Gold smirked. You were now standing, holding his hand and staring into his eyes. His words talking about impure thoughts just made your mind race. What were you doing? This was wrong; he’s your pastor after all. It was just the close proximity you two had to each other, and his soft, low voice, and his smooth fingers, and-

“The redness on your face makes me believe these impure thoughts are more than just locking lips or holding a man's hand.” Pastor Gold, noticing your face heat up, snapped you back to reality. The squeeze of his hand at the end of his sentence didn’t really alleviate any tension.

“It’s nothing really.” “Then tell me.” “I still feel ashamed” “We’re both men here, nothing to feel ashamed of.” “Yes, but I'm practically a freak of nature.” “Many people have had fantasies that could be just like yours.”

And that's when the back and forth between you two stopped. Was this him admitting he understood what it was like to be different?

“Pastor Gold, what are you saying?” you ended up questioning him.

“I just said many people have had fantasies that could be like what you have been having. If you tell me what these fantasies are, I think I would be able to help you a lot more.” Pastor Gold's eyes narrowed, and voice went dark. Your chest began to rise as the space between you both grew smaller, becoming more and more intimate.

“I’ve had thoughts of an older man. He would be gentle with me to start, his hands trailing my body. He would guide me down to the bed and get on top of me, undressing me as he kissed me. I would sit there bare and watch as he unclothed himself in front of me, making sure I’d know what I would be taking.” You felt ashamed and embarrassed as you told Pastor Gold one of your recurring fantasies, but hearing a small whine from your pastor as he bit his lip made the heat in your face travel down south.

“So tell me, my child, what’s stopping me from helping alleviate you from sin by dispelling your mind of such impure thoughts and making them a reality.” Pastor Gold grabbed you by your waist and twirled you to have your back against his desk. Your eyes widened in a shocked arousal.

“Pastor, what are you trying to say?” You stumbled over your words, eyes not averting from his face, studying each feature along it. The lines on his face conveyed how much older he was than you.

“I’m saying I can help you, you want that right?” Pastor Gold pulled you even closer, chests touching, breathing down your neck. This was wrong; you shouldn’t accept this type of perverse help, but it would feel so good.

“I want it but, this is wrong.” You cried out, tears starting to well in your eyes again.

“If it’s so wrong, then why does it make you feel so good?” He breathed out, hands tracing up your sides. “Remember, my child, you’re safe here with me. Remember, nobody other than us will know what's happened here today.”

“You promise you’ll be gentle?” You look up at him with big, wet eyes, a small plea in your voice.

“Of course, my child.” Pastor Gold took that as his cue to move his hands to be under your shirt. The long, slender digits danced lightly across your waist. The foreign feeling making you shudder in arousal. “Does this make you feel good?” he breathed out as he placed his head down on your shoulder.

“Mmhm yeah it does,” you moaned out. Being so inexperienced, just the slight touch against your bare skin made your heart race. Your admission was used as a sign for Pastor Gold to start attacking your neck. Leaving kisses along your neck and down to your collarbone. “Pastor, are you going to- mmph” you were cut off by your own moan.

“Am I going to what? There are many things we could do right now. You’ll have to use your words, darling.” Pastor Gold groaned against your skin, teeth trailing along the sensitive flesh. His hands tightened their grip around your waist in anticipation of the confession you were going to make.

“Are you going to fuck me?” you breathily moaned out. His firm grip against you had made the growing tent in your pants reach a noticeable size.

“You want me to, don’t you? I can tell by the way your body reacts to my touch.” Pastor Gold moved one of his hands to brush against your cock to emphasise his findings. “Say it then, give me the word, and I'll be able to rid your body of sin,” he whispered into your ear, biting the lobe.

“Please, Pastor, fuck me,” you whined out from his possessive tone. He finally broke away from orally attacking your skin to lift you up by your frail waist and place you on his desk. “You’re making me feel like a doll.” You blushed, letting your mind's barrier on what was right to say stop working.

“You certainly are pretty like one,” he laughed. He started to undo the buttons of your shirt, exposing your bare skin to his predatory eyes. “Such soft and smooth skin, another doll-like feature of you,” he commented as he placed a kiss just right above your left nipple. Shuffling your shirt off, you felt a bit selfish and wanted to return the favour by undressing Pastor Gold. You reached out and put your hands on his waist, starting to trail around and play with his belt. His hand stopped you. “You’re an eager one, aren’t you? He smirked

“No, it’s just I-” “You want my cock?” “Well yes, but I promise I wasn't trying to just touch you.” “You wanted to see me naked, right? Get me undressed? “I felt selfish just sitting here while you took my top off. I wanted to give something back to you.” You rushed out your explanation, feeling stupid for trying to replicate any of his touches. Pastor Gold looked at you, his predatory gaze softening. He saw himself in you, this exact moment in fact. Him being in your position, being ‘cleared of sin’ by an older male figure in his own church. He was doing what was right, following some sort of ‘rite’. You both knew how much potential you had. Pastor Gold had said many times how your intense intrigue reminded him of a younger version of himself.

“You’re perfect.” Pastor Gold had pressed his hand against your chest to guide you to lie down on his desk. Now towering over you, he finally kissed you on the mouth. no more teasing hickeys, just pure carnal desire. His hips grinding up against yours, you could feel his own member growing. He pulled away from your lips, moving back and tracing his hands down your chest and stopping right at your thighs. Unzipping your pants and yanking them to be pooled at your feet, dangling above the floor. Pastor Gold studied every inch of your naked body, fingers trailing up to trace light circles around your exposed, hardening nipples. Entranced by the way you were breathing and the way you were looking up at him with a mix of need and fear in your eyes, he could sense it. “You don’t need to be scared by child, you’re safe here, remember. I’m going to clean you; you shouldn’t be worried.” Pastor Gold traced circles across your thigh as he reassured you.

“I know but, i am scared pastor. I want you to cleanse me but, I haven’t even pleasured myself like that.” You blush, a mix of shame, embarrassment and fear washed over you. You felt gross hearing yourself even say the words ‘pleasuring yourself’, there was no way you could tell him you haven’t even had a finger in yourself before.

“Thats okay, baby. Would it make you feel better if you saw it before it went in?” he said softly. You jolted up, eyes wide. He laughed. “You said you weren’t eager?” he mocked your previous attempt at trying to grab his cock. There was a wave of heat that crashed down on your face; you could possibly be mistaken for painted red by how much you were blushing.

“I wanna see it. I wanna see you too.” You were very forward with your request; it made Pastor Gold do a double-take.

“You wouldn’t want to see the rest of me, my child.” he averted his gaze, shaking his head to emphasise his disapproval. You look at him, furrowing your brows. A silent plea, painting your face changed something. He brought a hand to caress your face. “The way you look at me, so innocent. You really do remind me of myself, it’s why I’m so conflicted.”

“About what?” you question, leaning into his touch.

“When I was your age, I went to a priest with the same problem. I sat in the confession booth and told him how I had lustful thoughts of other men. He said he would cleanse me, he told me how good I was and how much potential I had. It feels as if I'm following a tradition. This feels so right because I’m setting you up for success, but it's just how this rite of passage goes. It disgusts me a little bit. I was so young, fuck, you're so young too.” With one hand caressing your face, his other hand was playing with the small strands meeting at the nape of your neck, at some points wandering to other parts of your body. You could tell from his body language he didn’t want pity; he had his own shame, but he’s chosen you as his ‘heir’ of some sort.

“Is that why you’re doing this? You want to help me, or you want me to be a sacrificial lamb for you?” Your tone changed; there was something inside you telling you that this wasn’t going to make you clean.

“No, baby i promise, you’ll feel cleansed and rid of sin after this. I’m doing this for you; I just find the similarities uncanny. We’re so alike, you and I, it's why I feel such a deep desire to make you pure.” Pastor Gold reassured you by placing a kiss on your lips. You embraced him, inviting him into your mouth. He didn’t taste dirty; he’s telling the truth. He really will make you clean. Breaking away from the kiss to catch your breath, there's an increasing need rising inside of you. A sight to behold, both of you mirroring each other. Lips parted slightly, chest heaving and a look of desire in your eyes. All care and previous statements were thrown out the window as Pastor Gold started to loosen his tie, take his blazer off and start to unbutton his shirt. You watched how his fingers quickly unclasped the buttons, shirt opening to reveal his bare skin. It wasn’t what you expected, the complete opposite actually. You knew that orangeish tint to his skin wasn't real, but you never expected him to be so sickly pale under all that makeup. There were other ‘imperfections’ you picked up on as well. The amount of marks across his skin from picking at it, mixed in with the healed scars on his arms were a shocking sight. Even under the short spatterings of body hair, they were as noticeable as ever. He started to feel your sight like daggers carving new cuts into his skin. “I warned you, you wouldn’t like what you saw.” his face shifted into sorrow.

“It’s just a shock. You seem so put-together whenever I see you. I wouldn’t have thought that this was what you looked like underneath everything,” you admitted truthfully. You didn’t know what to say, worried that anything would make him leave.

“That’s why I want you to know you're safe, anything that happens here won’t get out, won’t come back to hurt you.” he stared at his arm as he said that last part. Instead of prying more into the personal life of your pastor, you got back to the matter at hand.

“It doesn’t matter, all those things you call imperfections. You have an inner light in yourself; you can make anyone pure.” You wanted to get him back on track, but also to uplift him. Looking deep into his eyes as your hands moved to his hips to toy with the waistband of his pants. “I think what matters right now, is you using that inner light within you to clean me of sin.” Fluttering your eyes up at him, somehow getting an air of confidence.

“You’re right. I should be cleansing you, how could I be so selfish to blab on about myself. This is about you, my child.” Snapping back to what you were both here for, he got closer to you so his pelvis was pressed against your crotch. Leaving a bit of space between the two of you so you could feel him unbuckle his belt and unbutton his pants, hearing them pool to the ground. He led you to lie back down against the desk, closing the space between the two of you. You could feel his clothed shaft rut against your hole. “Tell me you want this, my child; it could all be yours. Tell me you want me to fuck you.” Pastor Gold moaned into your ear.

“Please, Pastor, I want you to fuck me.” You abided, feeling shame in the words you were saying. You felt the heat from his body disappear for a bit near your crotch until, as quickly as it left, it came back. The feeling of the firm, slippery head teasing the entrance of your hole made you gasp in a mix of shock and excitement.

“You’re so tight, are you sure you’ll be able to take all of this?” he laughed, semi-impressed by how big he looked compared to your small entrance.

“I will, just, please be gentle. Remember.” You pleaded.

“Of course, my child, anything you want.” He ended his sentence with a kiss to your sternum. Lining himself up better with your entrance, he stared deep into your eyes as he began to press the tip of his cock into your hole. You writhed out in pain and pleasure; it felt different. But a good difference, it felt so good to feel this foreign object entering inside of you. Staring back down at you, eyes locked on yours, he started to move his hips closer to yours. Revelling in the way you looked distressed, unable to overtly convey either pleasure or pain, he bit his lip as he closed the space between your thighs. Stopping with his full length inside of you to give you time to get used to it.

“It hurts, Pastor,” you whined out, tears starting to stream down your face. You felt vulnerable. Was this the right thing to be doing? It hurts so bad, but it’ll be fine. Right? The way he looked at you sent a shiver down your spine. He was getting off on how confused and distressed you were right now. It made you panic, normally he would instantly reassure you that things would be fine, but he just stood there with his cock inside of you, panting while examining your body.

“It’s going to be okay, my child. It’ll hurt for a small while, but you’ll feel so good after your body gets used to it.” he was brought back to reality after being entranced by you. He reassured you by planting a kiss atop your forehead. You trusted him; he wouldn’t hurt you. Nodding your head to confirm you believed him, he started to move back. That feeling of emptiness within you started to feel unknown, even for a brief moment, you were filled it overtook your mind. A whine escaped your lips, yearning to feel full again. Taking this as his cue, Pastor Gold sped up his insertion this time. Still painful to you but not excruciating, you were getting used to this. Each time your breath steadied, he would increase the speed and depth of his thrusts, making sure you would never get used to this. You tried to focus on anything else to take your mind off the pain you were experiencing. It felt good, but how much it hurt was overshadowing that. There was a scent rising that somehow had your nostrils intoxicated. It would’ve been a mix of sweat, precum and other pheromones mixing in the air. So disgusting yet so addictive.

“-‘sgood.” You muttered out.

“What’s that, my child? Feels good?” Pastor Gold smirked as he remained at a steady but fast pace to hear what you said.

“Smell’s good,” you moaned out, unable to form proper sentences at this point.

“You’re so cute.” Pastor Gold laughed as you were a moaning, babbling mess underneath him. “I guess you’re experiencing all these sensations for the first time, you’re overwhelmed.” he slowed his thrusts down to make you stable enough for a response. Still unable to talk properly, all you could do was just nod. “Looks like someones too sex-drunk to think. Just nod again, baby, if you want me to shut up and make you cum.” he growled out. You rapidly nodded in response. The thought of cumming from someone else, not only touching you but being inside you and ravaging you, made your dick twitch. His thrusts roughened; they became more erratic and deep, a sign that you were close to being cleansed of sin. The sound of skin slapping and erotic moans filled his office. Feeling that you were close to release, you tried to grab onto something to stabilise yourself, but this just resulted in papers falling off his desk. “Are you close, my child?” he grunted as he looked deeply into your eyes. Once again, you nodded to approve his thought. “Such a good boy, I’ll make you cum.” he moaned as you felt him go deeper inside you than you thought he could. After only two or three hits to your prostate, your brain shuts off. Body gone full limp, the only sign of life within you was the pornographic mewls coming out of your mouth as your cock leaked globs of cum. Satisfied with your expulsion of sin, Pastor Gold used you as if you were a toy. Being rough and merciless, so he could reach his own climax. The pain was back, but this time it made your whole body numb and tingly. You felt something leaking down your thighs and pooling where your ass met the desk. He came inside you. You started to panic for some reason; you couldn’t get pregnant, so that wasn’t why you panicked. It was the idea of being tainted, he was meant to clean you, but the idea of being painted with such diary fluids made you conflicted. You didn't know if he was holy anymore. The thrusts started to slow to a halt as you felt him pull out of you. He lowered himself to place another kiss on some part of your delicate skin he was yet to defile.

“Pastor, thank you.” You didn’t know what to say; your mind was racing with a multitude of nervous thoughts, but the overarching feeling of pleasure and release was the only thing on your mind.

“Of course, my child. I want to help you. Want to make you pure,” Pastor Gold responded, leaving kisses along your jawline after each sentence. There was still some sort of conflict inside of you; if you were rid of sin and pure, you shouldn't feel like this. Shouldn't feel like you want more, you want to keep this going. Your eyes narrowed and became flat, the expression being noticed by Pastor Gold. “What’s wrong? Do you feel sick?” Worrying that he pushed you too far, he began to panic.

“No, it’s just that; i don’t feel clean. I feel even dirtier for enjoying it so much. Do you consider yourself pure, Pastor Gold?” The loaded question made him pull away from kissing you.

“Well, what would you classify as pure?” “I don’t know, I guess, not wanting to do this.” “Sometimes wants and needs get misconstrued.” “Are you saying you’re impure?” “Not entirely, I strive to be the purest I can be. Pushing all of this down. I don’t want to do it, don’t want to feel this way, but it’s my body that needs this. I seem to only get fulfilment from being sinful,” Pastor Gold admitted he still felt impure, he still had his own thoughts of homosexuality cross his mind time to time. You wonder if he still feels pain from all of this. Refusing to pry, you changed the topic.

“Will we have to keep doing this to make sure that I’m pure?” you questioned, starting to sit up. You looked at him with pleading eyes.

“If it’s something you want to be on the path to purity, then yes. But remember you’re safe with me. I’m doing this to help you, I don’t want to hurt you.” his thumb drew circles over your thigh.

“You won’t hurt me?”