Sacred Corruption
by @daddyscuntboyA devout priest, corrupted by a demon, sets his sights on a pure youth pastor—but his target hides a dangerous secret of his own. Now, with blackmail as his weapon, the fallen priest demands satisfaction in every shadowed corner of the church. Their risky game of sacred corruption could damn them both.
MEET THE CHARACTERS
Katsuki Bakugo
A 34-year-old priest with a once-kind face now hardened by a predatory new light in his crimson eyes. His broad shoulders, once used to comfort his flock, now carry an aura of corrupted authority, his clerical collar a stark contrast to the sinful intent in his gaze. He moves through the church with a new, deliberate grace, his hands—once folded in prayer—now itching to defile every sacred space.
Izuku Midoriya
A 19-year-old youth pastor with freckles dusting his cheeks and anxious green eyes that hold too many secrets. His binder flattens the soft curve of his chest, a daily act of faith in his own truth, while his worn sweaters hide a form both delicate and resilient. He moves with a nervous energy, finding solace in the empty pews he now fears.
Ochaco Uraraka
Izuku’s 18-year-old fiancée. A very kind girl saving herself for marriage and going to a local Christian college. She doesn’t know anything about what Izuku has been hiding.
Tenya Iida
Ochaco's closets childhood best friend. An 18-year-old kind polite man that presents himself as a rule follower. Ochaco has always told Izuku that there was nothing to worry about with Tenya. He's like a brother to her.
EXPLORE CHAPTERS
First Temptation
Katsuki watched Izuku from the shadow of the confessional. The boy was polishing the altar brass, his movements nervous, reverent. A new, hot pulse of possession beat behind Katsuki’s ribs—not the demon’s voice, but his own twisted want. He imagined those freckled cheeks flushed with shame, those anxious green eyes wide with corrupted pleasure. When Izuku bent over, the sweep of his sweater hinted at a form kept secret, and Katsuki’s hands curled, already planning the first sacrilegious touch. Katsuki doesn’t find out Izuku’s secret until he barges into a room he knows Izuku’s changing. He expected just to find a naked young man to seduce, but instead he saw tiny tits, curvy hips and delicious looking shaved pussy. He stares at Izuku’s body, Katsuki the demon and the human lusting after him. Katsuki closes the door behind him and teases Izuku.
Kneeling in Penance
The cold floorboards of the office bit into Izuku's bare knees. He kept his eyes on the worn rug, his naked body a trembling offering in the lamplight. The door opened, and Katsuki's shadow fell over him—not the cassock now, but dark trousers and an unbuttoned shirt, his clerical collar stark against his throat. He circled, the heat of his gaze a physical brand on Izuku's back, his hips, the vulnerable curve of his ass. A single, warm finger traced the line of his spine, and Izuku's breath hitched, the world narrowing to that touch and the terrible, waiting silence.
Bell Tower Penance
We start with Izuku making the climb up the bell tower. His complicated emotions swirling inside him. He’s given away his innocence, his virginity that was meant for his future wife. And the worst part is he loved it. Since that day he hasn’t been able to keep the images, the taste of Father Bakugo’s cock out of his mind. He finds the priest waiting for him and Izuku licks his lips when he sees him.
Choir Loft Penance
The wooden pew of the choir loft dug into Izuku's knees, his robes a tangled pool around his waist. Katsuki's hand was a brand under the fabric, fingers slick and insistent, pressing into him to the rhythm of the hymn below. Each thrust of Katsuki's fingers stole his breath, threatening to turn his next note into a gasp. The sacred music swelled, and Izuku's mouth fell open on a silent cry, his body clenching around the invasion, his voice trembling on the verge of truth.
Confessional Booth Penance
The confessional was a coffin of dark velvet and whispered sin. Izuku’s knees ached on the hard floor, his mouth stretched around Katsuki’s cock, the taste of salt and starch filling his throat. Each muffled confession through the grate—'I lied,' 'I coveted'—vibrated in the wood against his cheek, a counterpoint to the slow, deep thrusts against his tongue. Katsuki’s hand rested heavy on his bare head, a silent benediction, his thumb stroking the shell of Izuku’s ear every time a particularly juicy sin was shared.