#admin thalassa

your fingers gently trace across eros!mingyu’s face, dancing against his skin in the darkness. he presses gentle kisses into your neck and you sigh softly, your hands grazing his wings. 

“this is dumb. it isn’t gonna work,” you huff, slamming the old book shut and throwing it across the room.

hmmm, maybe the convenience store’s still open, i could go grab some food, you muse, sinking into the soft blankets of your bed.

all your friends had already left, probably off to find better entertainment rather than wait around for a prospective demon that you tried to summon from a post-it stuck in the back of an old library book. 

you have a test to study for anyways. 

“what do you want.” an irritable voice interrupts your thoughts, causing you to jump up from your bed. 

“who are you? what do you want?” you shout, brandishing a pillow in front of you. 

the figure standing across your room simply shrugs, leaning against the doorway in a picture of staged indifference. “you can call me jihoon. and i’m just trying to finish my job, so what do you want?”

“i have no idea! my friends and i just followed some instructions on a stupid post-it note. i thought it was just a joke, i didn’t realize it actually worked!” your voice trails off, your eyes flicking downwards. “i just live here.” 

demon!jihoon sighs, pushing himself off the wall. 

“i’m sure we can figure something out,” he murmurs, lifting your chin up to meet his gaze. 

guard!hoshi gently knocks on your door. “what are you doing here?” you whisper, flustered, a dressing robe draped messily around your shoulders. 

“i told the other guard to take a break. after all, i’m only acting on captain’s orders.” he smirks, leaning against the doorframe. 

“you can’t just flaunt your position like that,” you sputter.

“hey, it’s me. you know. josh. call me back when you get this. i have a surprise for you. i love you.”

“we can’t keep doing this,” you mutter in the darkness, actor!seungkwan’s arms wrapped around you. 

“what do you mean?” he whispers, pressing his lips to your forehead. 

“the sneaking around. i’m pretty sure the director has started to notice his star disappearing with his stage manager. they’re beginning to put two and two together and when they do, we’ll never hear the end of it,” you hiss. 

seungkwan rolls his eyes, “this whole actor-crew rivalry is stupid. we’re all friends anyways.” 

“yes, but,” you counter, gently poking his cheek, “we’re the ones that actually make the show look good.” 

“you wound me!” he clutches his chest dramatically.

mingyu stares up at the ceiling. he tilts his head to the side, looking at you on the other side of the bed, curled up tightly in the blankets, fast asleep.

he realizes something, something he probably should have known before all this, before you two had agreed to “no strings attached.”

you always spot artist!minghao hanging around the coffee shop, with his head bent down and brows furrowed in concentration while he sketches. 

your conversations are often an exchange of courtesies, rarely lapsing into something more, until he chooses to ask you about your day or to show you one of his newest sketches.

one day, when you go to clean up the empty cup he’s left behind, you spot a folded piece of paper tucked under the plate.