#cravity fic

⚠ DISCLAIMER ⚠ if you're uncomfortable with religious themes (specifically christianity in this instance) or their use in a nsfw/sexually explicit context , it's your responsibility as the reader to click off this work and go read something else . i as the author have no responsibility for your discomfort with the themes i decide to write about

note   shout out to onlyoneof for making cunty catholic guilt yaoi music so i could get through writing n find a title for this fic (˶ˆᗜˆ˵) n thank u to the loml @elifseasonz for beta reading this n supporting me through the absolute crash out that were these past 8 months of writing 🩷 i've been writing this since may 2024 - not bc its particularly long or well thought out tho , im just a terribly slow n bad writer :3 i also wrote most of it while i had the worst cold ever so .. theres that too n some parts of it r probably so rushed (oomf (= my Proof Reader™) said its fast paced </3 life is not worth living anymore /j)

Wonjin considers his life to be rather inconspicuous. He is the most average guy someone could ever meet, and it reflects on all his disastrous first dates ending with no kind of follow up. He never does anything creepy or straight up wrong, but his whole demeanor has a certain ‘I’m a loser virgin’ vibe that tends to scare away even the most desperate of his potential partners.

Jungmo, on the other hand, considers Wonjin’s life to be the finest piece of entertainment he could ever ask for. One would argue it is because that is what his whole job consists of: watching over Wonjin and his more than ordinary day-to-day life, failed dates and all.

Jungmo has never been among the most beloved angels in the ranks of Heaven, both due to his occupation - the more contact a divine being has with humans the more their existence becomes tainted and impure, making guardian angels the bottom of the holy food chain - and, more than anything, because of his tendency to defy the rules that have been imposed on him since his very first day in Heaven.

Most of it consisted in minor offenses, like sneaking to Earth without permission to go visit ‘his’ human, or almost resorting to violence that one time another angel offered to take responsibility over Wonjin instead of him; they all originated from how prone Jungmo was to sin compared to his fellow guardian angels, making him an unstable employee since his first day in Paradise, his status immediately solidified as a liability for both his and Heaven's stability.

Which is how Jungmo finds himself kicked out of Heaven, stranded in a random dark alleyway somewhere. Really, he could be anywhere.

Had he not relentlessly followed Wonjin in his every step for years, Jungmo would have no idea of where to go. Of course, it is only normal for a guardian angel to know where their human lives and be able to teleport themselves there in a matter of seconds.

Wings broken and past their first stage of decay, Jungmo uses the last remaining traces of his powers to manifest his physical form into Wonjin’s room - it takes slightly longer than he is used to, but it still can’t be more than a few minutes.

The digital clock on the bedside table reads 3:33AM, the red symbols flashing and glitching for a moment when Jungmo makes his appearance - human technology is such a fragile thing, even the dying powers of a former angel are able to put it through strain.

Wonjin has always been a heavy sleeper, struggling to wake up even when the sun is up high and his alarm has rang at least ten times.

Which makes it all the more obvious something is off that night.

He struggles to fall asleep, but chalks it up to anxiety for a major upcoming exam he has been stressing over for months; when he wakes up at three in the morning with the eerie sensation of being watched, though, he can't really blame it on his academic anxiety anymore.

His eyes slowly adapt to the darkness, a humanoid shadow standing in the far corner of his room, right beside the door.

Sleep paralysis? Likely, Wonjin thinks, but the hypothesis is quickly shut down when he finds no resistance within his body as he scrambles to grab his glasses from the bedside table and runs his hand along the wall feeling for the light switch.

Had Wonjin been in a sane state of mind, he would have screamed. Except Wonjin feels anything but sane, his mouth just hanging open in silence as he takes in the person - can he even call it that? The tattered wings sprouting from his back suggest the opposite - standing in front of him.

“What the fuck?” It’s all Wonjin can manage, his voice raspy and his throat dry - from sleep or from the shock, he isn't exactly sure.

Jungmo chuckles. He has observed his human for years, to the point he knows every little quirk, habit and shameful sin of his, but he forgot Wonjin is not familiar with his existence at all.

Without the limits of Heaven binding him to being truthful, Jungmo could simply lie about who he is, about why he is there.

Jungmo is free.

“I’m your guardian angel,” he explains. That much is not a lie, he is just omitting an irrelevant fragment of the truth.

Wonjin eyes him skeptically, fixating on his bruised skin, his bloodied clothes and, once again, his decaying wings. The originally white feathers have colored themselves of a sickly dark gray, bordering on an even darker color towards some edges, those that turn completely black falling off in the matter of minutes. A few white spots remain, but the color has started becoming more dull, dirtying itself as if infected with an incurable disease.

“I was kicked out of heaven,” Jungmo confesses, immediately continuing to not leave any room for protest from Wonjin. “Not because of my sins. I was tricked by an evil, jealous angel who blamed their mistakes on me.”

“And what do I have to do with this? Why are you in my room?” Wonjin asks bluntly.

Religion has always been a pretty neutral topic to him, he genuinely has no care for it. That odd guy might be his guardian angel, but Wonjin wants nothing to do with him.

Yet, it intrigues him. He suspects what the angel has said about being kicked out of heaven is not entirely the truth, and that only makes him want to know more about the otherworldly being standing in front of him.

“Well, I told you,” Jungmo says matter-of-factly. “You’re my human. Who else should I look for? You’re the only thing I know about this insignificant mortal world.”

“Fair,” Wonjin mutters. While he might not be completely convinced by what he says, the thought process is completely logical - excluding the whole premise of a supernatural, heavenly being appearing in his room out of nowhere. The absurdity of it all has almost slipped his mind already.

“You know, Wonjin,” Jungmo takes a step forward, and Wonjin is torn between mirroring his actions, drawn closer to the angel by an invisible force he can't quite explain, or get further away from him - though the second option proves itself to be impossible when Wonjin tries scooting back on the bed, and his back meets the headboard with a dull sound.

Jungmo looks down at Wonjin, only one step separating the two of them.

Had Wonjin not known any better, he would think what he sees when he meets Jungmo's unsettling eyes is lust. Surely, that's impossible – after all, angels don't sin, and they are absolutely not capable of committing a sin as deadly as lust, be it in or out of heaven.

“I've been watching you for so long,” Jungmo's thin, delicate fingers grasp Wonjin's jaw with such gentleness he is left doubting they are even there. The angel's pointed nails slightly digging into his skin, though, are enough of a confirmation of the touch being real.

Wonjin is not sure what he expects when Jungmo leans closer, so their faces are mere centimeters apart from each other, making it almost impossible for him to hold the angel's gaze.

Up close, Jungmo's irises are nothing but pits of pure darkness, blending with his pupils to the point the two are indistinguishable. Wonjin doesn't know the reason, but the sight makes his stomach close in on itself.

And if that alone is not enough of a reminder of Jungmo's lack of humanity, the stillness in his body is – no breathing, no heartbeat, everything about Jungmo is unmoving, eternal.

Jungmo’s lips, on the other hand, feel more alive than anything Wonjin has ever experienced.

Alive, gentle, but so desperate, as if Jungmo has been waiting for this moment ever since he laid his eyes on Wonjin.

Could that be the truth? Could he be the reason Jungmo has been banished from heaven? The thought alone makes Wonjin’s stomach churn in a mixture of fear and pride that only spurs him on to kiss Jungmo back with more fervor.

Wonjin gasps at the contact with Jungmo's cold skin, the angel's fingertips sneaking under his shirt and brushing his hips, eliciting whimpers and whines that Wonjin can't help but be slightly ashamed of.

Jungmo is skilled, far too sure in what he is doing for someone who has supposedly led a life void of sin up until that moment, and Wonjin knows that alone should raise all kinds of alarm bells and red flags in him – it does.

Wonjin knows he should be more cautious, yet he decides to ignore his own rationale, getting lost in Jungmo's lips, in his touch and in his body.

.☆⭒ ♱ ⭒☆.

“God,” Wonjin grabs Jungmo’s wrist in an attempt to slow down his motions, his fingers slipping around the angel’s cold skin as he chuckles.

“There is no god here, Wonjin,” Jungmo speeds up his pace, tightening his hold once he reaches Wonjin’s tip and loosening it every time his hand slides down to the base. “That is, unless you’re talking about me.”

Wonjin’s moans grow in volume and pitch, it’s all too much, too overwhelming, and it feels like nothing he has ever experienced before - though he is pretty sure he is about to cum at any moment. If only Jungmo tightens his fist just a little more and…

“Am I your god, Wonjin?” Jungmo suddenly stops, his hands completely leaving Wonjin’s body as he relishes in his human’s delicious whines and protests.

Jungmo brings his fingers, slick and stained in precum, to Wonjin’s chin, tilting it upwards so their eyes can meet. Any and all protests Wonjin could have die in his mouth as he once again gets lost in the endless pits that are Jungmo’s eyes.

“Answer me, Wonjin,” Jungmo whispers, leaning down to kiss along Wonjin’s jawline, until his lips are right by his ear and his free hand is barely grazing Wonjin’s cock. “Tell me I am your god, and I’ll let you cum.”

Wonjin lets out a shaky, hesitant breath, barely able to keep his eyes open as he weakly reaches for Jungmo’s hand, the angel promptly moving it further away from his cock with a smirk.

“Yes,” Wonjin is quick to force himself to answer, intertwining his fingers with Jungmo’s and pulling him closer, reaching for a kiss that Jungmo once again withholds from him.

“Yes what? I want to hear you say it.”

“You’re my god, Jungmo,” Wonjin’s voice is barely above a whisper, cracking at every other word he speaks. “My one and only god.”

Jungmo’s acknowledgement for Wonjin’s blind devotion comes in the form of his hand slipping out of Wonjin’s hold, and wrapping once again around his sensitive cock.

It doesn’t take long for Wonjin to get close again, his voice melting into an incomprehensible ramble of “I’m gonna cum” repeating until Jungmo has to shush him, reassuring him that he’s not going to rip that orgasm away from him again. A part of him is tempted to, but the need to see Wonjin finally fall apart in his hands is stronger.

“Go ahead,” Jungmo whispers, relishing in the shiver that pervades Wonjin as his hands grip Jungmo’s arms in a desperate attempt to ground himself. “Cum for your one and only god.”

Wonjin’s mind goes blank, he doesn’t know for how long. His body is still shaking once he regains enough of a sense of self to open his eyes, laying his head on Jungmo’s shoulder as he catches his breath.

Jungmo’s fingers are dripping in his human’s cum. He brings them closer to his face, inspecting the sticky substance with curiosity before hesitantly licking some of it off of his digits.

The slightly salty taste of Wonjin’s cum has Jungmo biting back a moan at the realization he’s consuming a part of him, in some twisted, fucked up way.

Jungmo wants more, but he knows Wonjin can’t handle another orgasm, so he settles for the next best thing. Is it really ‘settling’, though, when Wonjin’s lips are just as addicting, as he squeezes Jungmo’s hand in his and smiles into the kiss.

Wonjin is quick to get drowsy, pulling Jungmo under the covers and mumbling something along the lines of “Don’t you dare go anywhere” as he drifts off to sleep, his hand still gripping Jungmo’s.

Jungmo observes Wonjin’s sleeping frame, so much closer than he has ever been able to before.

The sun has started rising, shining through the sheer curtains and painting Wonjin’s beautiful features in its soft orange hues.

It’s all worth it.

Even as Jungmo’s wings rot past the point of no return, the last of his feathers falling off and shriveling into dust, into nothingness, leaving the skeletal frame sprouting from his back bare and vulnerable. Even as a pain he has never experienced before curses through him.

All it takes for Jungmo to think the eternal suffering that awaits him is worth it is a look at his lover peacefully sleeping underneath him.

You couldn’t sleep.

Every time you closed your eyes you saw the tangible fear in Minhee’s when Wonbin broke the chair right beside his head. This school really brought the worst out of everybody. What kind of exam would require students to hurt each other otherwise?

Something had been off since the beginning. The drug to knock you out during the bus ride to the boarding school. The creepy forest all around the place that made sure you had no place to run to. The nutrition supplement you had to take with every breakfast. Your confiscated phones, so you had no way to contact your families. The never-sent letters. Slowly it was all adding up.

Then the ‘classes’ started and it got worse: the psychological games that were supposed to teach you about life, the punishments like getting locked up or not getting food if you went against the crazy rules. You and your 12 classmates only had each other yet the teachers kept trying to turn you against each other in their manipulating little games. You weren’t sure anymore what they were trying to teach you: to trust each other or not to?

“Can’t sleep?”

The soft rumble of voice startled you. Your shoulders tensed up as you turned away from the window because you knew you were breaking just another rule too: no coming out of your room after curfew. But you couldn’t stay and listen to the other girls’ stable breathing, not when it all felt like a living nightmare. Maybe Serim felt the same as a little sigh left his mouth while sitting down beside you. You let his warmth soak you in the cold night even though you probably just imagined it because you didn’t touch at all.

You shook your head no, fingers nipping on the edge of your long nightgown over your pulled up legs. It was just as much as yours as the bed you had slept in. The school provided the same variety of uniforms (yes, even your pajamas had the school logo on it) for the girls and a separate set for the boys. Having the same classes, eating the same meals, choosing from the same limited options, sometimes it felt like they were trying to transform you into the same generalized idea of a student.

“I’m worried about Hyeongjun. He hasn’t been the same since he was locked up,” you shared one of your many concerns as you thought of the chatty boy who had been uncharacteristically silent even since he was released. He wasn’t willing to tell you what they had done to him though. “And these tests? They keep getting worse. Minhee could have been seriously hurt.”

You had learned soon enough that breaking rules came with punishments. Sometimes collective ones. Like when Jungmo, Allen and Haneul had tried to run away, all of you had to go after them into the dark woods to bring them back. Or when Sieun refused to eat the lunch because it was burnt, somebody else had to eat hers too. So it was better not to try your luck, not when the teachers were watching. But now, punishments weren’t even necessary when the games they came up with were just as brutal. And was it really fair when Mrs Lee said that anything could have been done in order to pass a test when somebody cheated easily and shamelessly while others would have never done that?

“The teachers said we will soon be ready for phase two. Hopefully, it will be over then,” Serim spoke up quietly, his face casted in shadows but even in the dark, you could clearly see his warm, chocolate brown eyes.

All of you had been strangers in the beginning of the term but you two had gotten close when you sprained your ankle during a PE class and he carried you back to the base, slowing down his own time but making sure you finished before the deadline too. Otherwise you couldn’t have gotten dinner that day, just one of the numerous unreasonable motivational techniques of this place.

Serim was like your safe haven in this hell of a school. He was a natural leader: attentive, considerate and having a good sense for strategies. He knew when to speak up and when to stay quiet. No wonder the others, with some exceptions, followed him well. Yet, he kept saying that you were just as good: that you had ideas and observations he would have never come to on his own. Whether he was right or not, one thing was sure: you looked out for each other, you made a good team.

“Even you don’t believe that,” you called him out on his overly optimistic and groundless claim about the next phase because it was unlikely things were going to just magically get better once the teachers deem you ready to move on. From what, to where? Who knows?

Nevertheless, the corner of your lips curled upwards because you knew that Serim just wanted to make you feel better and less worried. You appreciated his efforts albeit they were fruitless. At least it made you smile.

“No, I don’t,” he admitted, reciprocating your small smile with his own as he playfully nudged your shoulder with his, your bodies brushing over the two layers of clothes in-between yet you felt your cheeks heat up. At least the dark helped you hide it.

Still, you felt the tension around you melt away, your shoulders relaxing as Serim reached for your hand, his bigger one enveloping yours in a comforting squeeze.

“But we will get through it together,” he promised and you believed him. Watching the moonlight draw patterns on the boy’s pretty face, you felt more at ease than before. But also restless because you knew you were breaking one more rule.

life can be funny sometimes, but you and minhee definitely weren’t laughing when you saw your names listed together for a project. you shot each other glares from across the lecture hall. it was bad enough that you both decided to attend the same college, and chose the same major. now you had to work together? you were cursing the universe as your professor dismissed you, trying to leave the hall as fast as you could.

of course, you weren’t moving fast enough, because you soon felt minhee’s presence beside you.

“listen, i don’t want to be your partner either, but this is a big part of our grade.” minhee rolled his eyes when he noticed you were ignoring him, “you know what? fine, i’ll write the essay, you draw the visuals. i’ve always been a better writer than you, anyway.”

“as if.” you finally looked at him, “you are not better at writing than i am, kang. you’re not better than me at anything.”

“that’s not what our marks said last semester.” minhee snickered as your face fell into a scowl.

“you’re not writing that essay.” you huffed, and minhee raised an eyebrow at this.

“so, what then? do you want to do it together?” he joked, but he became serious when you nodded, “what? no way, y/n. i’m not spending my weekend with you of all people. i have a life, you know. i have something called friends, i’m not sure if you’re familiar with those.”

“by 'friends', do you mean hyeongjun?” you shot back, “i believe that’s just a friend. singular.”

“whatever. when and where are we meeting? i’d like to get it done all in one day, so let’s not meet too late, alright?”

“pushy much?” you pulled out your phone to check your calender, “i’m free tomorrow around noon. yunjin is going home for the weekend, so you can just come to my dorm. make sure you shower first, though. you smell.”

you could hear minhee cursing you out as you walked away from him, a grin forming on your face.

➳ the next day. noon.

minhee was knocking at your door exactly at noon.

i guess he really meant it when he said he wanted to be done as quick as possible, you thought.

opening the door, it took everything in you to not let your jaw drop. you’d never seen minhee dressed down before, and it was a miracle that he actually looked… good.

“are you gonna let me in, or are you just gonna stand there looking stupid?” his voice was laced with annoyance.

shaking your head to clear your thoughts, you moved out of the way so he could walk in, “don’t be an asshole. i think we established that neither of us want to be doing this, so don’t make it worse than it has to be.” you closed the door, leading minhee over to the small desk in the corner of the room.

minhee said nothing as he sat down, before he pulled his laptop out, and then his notes. sitting beside him, you couldn’t bring yourself to look away from him as he did so. you hated to admit it, but kang minhee was attractive. 

“see something you like?” minhee’s voice broke you out of your thoughts for the second time since he’d been there, but this time, you could tell he was smirking.

shooting him a glare, you scoffed, “you wish, kang. don’t be so full of yourself, it isn’t a good look.”

“what if i did? wish you’d look at me like that more often, i mean.” minhee challenged, “what then?”

“what the fuck are you talking about? do you feel okay?” you spoke, despite the shock coursing through your veins.

“i feel fine.” minhee leaned closer to you, “what about you? how do you feel?”

refusing to back down, you stayed where you were, “fine.”

minhee just smirked as he leaned even closer. you could feel his breath on your face, and you’d be lying if you said you weren’t anticipating his next move.

“is it okay…” he placed his hand on your cheek, “if i kiss you?”

“ew, don’t be gross.” you grinned before closing the gap between your lips.

pulling away after a few seconds, you and minhee could do nothing but stare at each other. had all of the hatred between the two of you blossomed into attraction? neither of you were sure.

“that was a one time thing. that’s not happening again.” you finally broke the silence.

“never again.” minhee agreed with a nod, beginning to type away on his laptop.

as you began to work beside him, you couldn’t hold back the smile that was forming on your lips.

on the other hand, deep down, he knew he was just jealous and hurt. he had imagined his entire future with you by his side, and now that things had changed, he wasn’t sure how to react. you weren’t to blame, and neither was wonjin. in some ways, he blamed himself for not telling you how he felt that night at prom. part of him wonders if you ever felt the same towards him, and part of him isn’t sure he wants to know the truth.

with all of these thoughts swirling inside his head, it started to drive him insane. it wasn't good for him to be feeling this way towards his best friend. resentment and anger for something you simply couldn't control. he used to talk to you every day, and now he ignores your texts on the daily.

who was he becoming? even he himself didn't know.

☆ ☆ ☆

he wasn’t sure how he got here, standing outside your house, but he knew there was no turning back. as his knuckles hit the door with your super secret knock, he knew you’d realize it was him in a heartbeat.

he was right, as you opened the door not even a minute later. you didn’t say anything, you didn’t have anything to say. he didn’t look like himself. the bags under his eyes were darker than normal, and his hair was messy, not styled like usual.

“y/n..” he breathed, “i need to talk to you.. i know i probably don’t deserve it.. but could you spare me a minute?”

you nodded, stepping out onto the balcony so you were standing in front of him. you had your arms crossed over your chest, waiting for him to tell you something. truthfully, you weren’t quite sure what you wanted to hear from him..

and nothing could have prepared you for this.

“i’m in love with you, y/n.. or, i was.. i don’t know, i’m still figuring it out.” he fidgeted with the sleeves of his hoodie, “i knew i had a crush on you since we were younger, but i thought maybe it was because you were always so nice to me. i wasn’t used to that until i met you.. but when we got older, i knew for a fact that what i was feeling towards you was more than a best friend type of love.. and when i asked you to prom, i wanted to tell you, i really did.. but junho talked me out of it, and-”

“minhee, i can’t do this right now.” you had tears in your eyes, for reasons unbeknownst to minhee, and even yourself.

“i need to say this now, or i’m afraid i’m gonna explode..” he took a deep breath, now looking at his feet, “it hurts seeing you with wonjin because he’s living the life i had imagined with you. part of me is hoping you’ll break up with him right now and come be with me.. that maybe you’ll realize you’ve been in love with me this whole time too, and that i’m everything you want.. but it never fucking works like that, does it? because the other part of me knows that wonjin is inside right now, and he’s waiting for you, right? and you’ll go back to him because you love him.. you love him, and not me, right?”

at first, you didn’t know what to say to minhee. seeing him this way was both heartbreaking and terrifying. you knew he had been going through something, but this was the last thing you would have imagined to leave his mouth.

“for fucks sake, minhee.. i do love you, okay? i do! but it isn't in the way i love wonjin, and i think it’s unfair that you’re painting me to be a bad guy! like i somehow planned to ruin your life, and for what? for fun? does that shit seem like fun? you know me better than anyone, how could you ever think for a second that i did this on purpose?” you had your fists clenched, tears streaming down your cheeks, but this time you knew why.

“i didn’t mean for it to come out that way, y/n.. i’m just.. not thinking straight lately.” he turned his back to you, ready to walk back down the stairs and away from your house.

“minhee, i’m setting you free, okay? you need to move on and find someone who loves you back in the same way..” you spoke slowly, and you swore you heard minhee sniffle, “now please, get home safely.”

now, here you were, in college. you had both applied, and gotten in, to the same college. you’d had this plan since you were younger, and now that it had all worked out, you felt like you were dreaming. you had everything. your dream college, your best friend by your side, and a loving boyfriend.

you’d started dating your boyfriend, wonjin, about a month into your first semester of college. you’d gotten along very well right off the bat, and started dating about two weeks after meeting him. according to minhee, you were moving too fast. he kept telling you to be careful, or that you should focus on your studies more. it wasn’t like minhee to go against what you were doing with your life, but you figured he was just looking out for you.

however that couldn’t be further from the truth.

minhee had been telling himself for a long time that he couldn’t fall in love with you. after all, you’d said many times that he was like a brother to you. as much as it hurt him to hear, it was enough to make him push his feelings aside for a little while. but, when he had asked you to prom senior year and you had said yes, it started to become harder and harder for him to suppress what he was feeling. he knew you had just said yes because you were best friends and did everything together, but he would be lying if he said he gain a little bit of hope that maybe you liked him too.

so, on prom night, minhee had planned to tell you how he felt. he was determined to find out if your friendship could turn into something more. anything more than it was now. however, after consulting his friend junho, he quickly changed his mind.

what if he ruined everything between you two?

what if you couldn’t look at him the same anymore?

that left minhee where he was now, sitting in a diner booth across from you and wonjin. honestly, it made him sick to watch you two share a milkshake while he just had a lousy cup of soda in front of him. he didn’t understand how you could let wonjin take all of your time, especially when all of your time used to be given to him. he felt guilty, knowing that you were happy and that he couldn’t be happy for you, but he couldn’t help how he was feeling.

“minhee,” you called across the table, pulling him from his thoughts, “are you okay?”

“huh, oh.. yeah.” he didn’t look at you, the straw in his cup becoming the most interesting thing in the world.

“you’ve been really quiet.. do you feel okay?” he could feel the concern in your voice, and it made his stomach twist, but you watched as he shook his head.

“you know what, i actually feel kind of sick now that you mention it.. i think i’m gonna head home..” he stood, placing money for his meal on the table before leaving.

as he walked out the door, he could hear wonjin asking why he left. he wasn’t there long enough to hear your reply, but whatever it was, he knew you’d never say the truth.