AN: Nightmare blunt rotation. i should have made general headcanons instead of little scenarios because I just know some of them ended up OOC. I ALSO COULD NOT find a JJK woman to fit the last part. FUCK IT WE BALL FOR MY FIRST TIME DOING SOMETHING LIKE THIS😭
Word Count: <1k
You think you’re going crazy, but you could have sworn you’ve seen that man way more than what’s considered normal. He’s in the park, at the grocery store, sometimes you see him walking by your house despite having never seen him in your neighborhood before. Maybe he just recently moved here? But no… It seems like he’s noticed how often he’s running into you too with the confused looks he gives you whenever you two bump into each other when turning corners on the sidewalk or the dairy aisle.
This can’t just be a coincidence anymore…
“Oof!””
You’re lost in thought when you feel your head hit something soft yet solid, effectively disorienting you. As you try to gather your bearings, you can hear someone chuckling as they pick your bag off of the floor.
“Oh dear, you should be more careful next time~”
You grumble out a thank you while you shake your head. His voice made you feel yucky, but his smile was so much worse when you could finally see properly as he kindly handed you your bag.
Don’t be mean to someone you just walked into…
“Have we met before?”
He shakes his head as he chuckles again. His soft white strands sway from side-to-side and you find yourself grimacing further.
“No, I don’t think we have. But, it’s nice to finally meet you.”
Your eye twitches as you bite your tongue and try not to recoil in disgust.
- Satoru Gojo, Lygus, Shadow Milk Cookie
Flash!
You turn around when you hear an out-of-place shutter sound with an accompanying flash in your direction. What greets you is a tall man dressed in dark clothing and nervously fumbling with his clunky camera. His face flushes a bright pink when he sees you’ve noticed him trying to discreetly take a photo of you, and it causes him to immediately freeze next to the large plant he was definitely using to hide behind prior to being discovered.
“You know you should ask for permission before taking a photo of someone.”
You hiss out as you walk up to him. You put your hands on your hips and try to give him the meanest glare you can muster despite how your eyes wandered over his body. Sweat beads down his forehead and makes his hair cling to his face as flustered apologies leave his lips.
Oh. He’s cute~
Normally, you would have demanded for the creep to hand over their device so you could personally delete the photo before giving them a good thrashing, but…
“So you gonna ask or what?”
His eyes widen and he’s quickly nodding (once he understands you didn’t just threaten to call the police) as he tries not to drop his camera in excitement. You give him a snarky grin and grab his wrist to drag him to a better spot. You can feel him shaking in your grasp and you think you have him right where you want him.
What an easy man.
- Pure Vanilla Cookie, Phainon, Yuji Itadori
“What a beautiful, young person you are.”
You hear a sultry woman’s voice behind you, but you don’t bother turning around.
She’s probably complimenting someone with her.
A new cafe had opened up in the area and you did dearly want to go with someone you knew, but alas they were all busy. The grand opening was giving out tons of free things and you couldn’t just miss out on it because you were alone.
You stand on the line and continue to scroll through your phone until you feel someone poking your shoulder. Your head whips around and morphs into one of confusion as you come face-to-face with the most gorgeous woman you’ve ever seen.
“Oh, uhm, did you need something?”
You feel out of place in your outfit as you see she’s dressed to the nines and smiling at you, which you reciprocate with much less enthusiasm.
“Need? Oh, no. I was just complimenting you. It doesn’t seem like you’ve heard me…”
Your smile becomes even more wobbly as you feel the saliva in your mouth dry up.
“W-what compliment…”
The lady looks at you in confusion before giving you that confident grin and repeating what you thought you had only imagined mere moments ago.
“You’re the most beautiful person I’ve ever seen.”
You nervously try to laugh it off as a joke, but the woman doesn’t budge. If anything, she’s taken your flustered state as an opportunity to move even closer to you. Your noses are nearly touching as your laugh trails off with the proper words to say in this situation finally coming to your mind.
“Thank you…”
She gives you a wicked smile before placing a finger under your chin and shutting your mouth for you. It only serves to make your face become more red as you hadn’t even realized you were literally staring at her with your mouth agape after muttering those two words. You jolt when the woman’s fingers intertwine with yours but are frozen in embarrassment and shock, leaving you unable to do a thing.
“I heard great things about this place.”
You barely even glance at the line finally moving up a few steps, your eyes locked onto her completely.
“Yet I didn’t think I would find someone even better.”
She gives you a wink that has your heart feeling like it’s going to burst.
I’m going to die…
- Eternal Sugar Cookie, Aglaea, Uro
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More Here -> General ML - Twisted Wonderland ML
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AKA after they escape the Silver Tree, pt. 2
pt. 1 with Mystic Flour, Shadow Milk and Silent Salt can be read here
₊✦Cookie Run: Kingdom | Burning Spice, Eternal Sugar x Reader✦₊
Reuniting with Burning Spice Cookie kind of resembles a horror movie.
He adores you so and would do anything for you, but that doesn't stop him from scaring you to death by destroying whatever landscape or wall stands between you two.
This means that, unless you were standing outside waiting for him, he will wreck through the walls and structures of whatever building you were in and wrap his arms around you the moment he gets close enough; laughing and twirling you around.
To no one's surprise, Eternal Sugar Cookie rushes straight to her garden and throws herself in your arms the moment she has you in her sight.
Aside from the fact that she's happy that you stayed in her garden instead of straying off somewhere dangerous, you welcoming her back swiftly changed her mood from horrible to great. But of course you'd welcome her so readily, you loved her as much as she loved you!
Besides returning to you, there were some matters and cookie's that Eternal Sugar Cookie needed to tend to but for the next week or month or so those could wait. She missed your presence, she missed being so close to you and she missed being wrapped in your arms and having you wrapped up in hers.
<- Back to the masterlist?
Burning Spice | Eternal Sugar
summary. as a storm began to form you stumble upon a band in desperate need of a producer
translations. Tavo akys yra nežemiškos = your eyes are ethereal. Mylimoji = Beloved, Brangioji = Dearest
It was a rainy day, the clouds were turning a dark grey as the approaching thunderstorm only worsened.
The streets of Vilnius were full with panicked mothers who were scrambling to get their children home so they wouldn’t catch the worst cold of their lives. However some teens were laughing, enjoying the beauty of nature’s chaos. One young adult in particular stood out with her unique umbrella in hand— the old sun designs with a ‘hippie’ look to it added to her charm as she tried to get the attention of the passers by, however few acknowledged what she had to say.
You had just opened a small studio for upcoming artists— or even big artists to record their music in, and currently you were on the hunt for said artists— in the worst weather possible..
A group of people also decided to go out in this pure hell of a weather, approaching from behind you as they seaked shelter as soon as humanly possible. You noticed them from the corner of your eye— and as they were about to pass you decided to try your luck one last time. “Excuse me—“
The four of them turned, their sudden attention making your heart stutter. You froze for a second, realizing you’d caught them mid-hurry, and scrambled to get your words out. “I— hi, sorry, I just opened a music studio a few blocks down, and I—” You quickly lifted your umbrella, tilting it to try and shield them from the rain as best you could. “I was wondering if you could maybe take these?” You held out a small stack of flyers, the paper trembling just a bit in your hand. “If you know anyone who might be looking for a place to rehearse or record, I’d really appreciate it. I’ve got, um, a pretty open schedule right now.”
They all looked at you like they’d just seen an angel, exchanging quick glances you didn’t quite catch. The blonde with the slightly long hair took the flyers, his eyes meeting yours for a beat that made your heart feel a little unsteady.
“How much do you charge?” he asked, voice low but curious.
You smiled, trying to keep your tone light. “25€ an hour, but I’m flexible depending on how long or often you want to use the space.” You pulled out your phone, opening Instagram before handing it over. “Here, follow yourself. We can figure something out when it’s not, you know, pouring.”
He nodded, tapping a few buttons before handing your phone back. The group gave you a final nod before turning back to their path.
“Thanks,” the girl of the group called over her shoulder. “We’ll let you know.”
Just a week later after he had sent you a message, they showed up at the studio where you discussed the details of when and what times they’d want the studio and how much you’d charge which all got settled pretty quickly, they weren’t picky at all to your surprise because that was one trait almost all artists had when you worked as an assistant in a studio. It was refreshing to have a few humble people in after a while.
The weeks with them in went smoothly, their style of music was admireable and you soon found out it was very similair to your own music taste which was amazing to hear that you wouldn’t have to endure some bad rappers for who knows how long.
You pressed record as Emilija played the bass of the song, getting lost in the tune. It sort of reminded you of the time you first met— a song you’d listen to in that kind of weather and chaos. Curiosity got the best of you and after 2 weeks of recording you decided to ask. “So, what’s the song for? An album, a single?” You spin in your chair as Emilija sat down with the rest of the group behind you on the dark orange couch, Jokūbas being the only one sitting on the red samira carpet— the worn out designs of it telling stories of the many others doing the same thing— the kind of old thing you’d find at your grandmas house.
“Eurovision, actually. We’ll be competeting against other Lithuanian artists first to see if we even get in next month.” Your jaw was on the floor as Alanas explained. You were producing a song for Eurovision— the biggest song contest in Europe? “Wow— I, uh expected anything but that.” You smiled awkwardly, the others chuckling at your reaction. “Yeah, we’re just a band with a dream.” Alanas jokes but the others just side eye him. “Out of all the jokes he could’ve made..” Jokūbas sighs, but breathes out a laugh nonetheless.
For about a month, you had perfected the song—every detail sculpted into something meaningful and beautiful— memorable even. But as the audition date neared, you were hit with unexpected news; the song needed to be altered, and not in a way you could fix overnight.
“What the fuck are we supposed to do now?” Alanas sighed, leaning against your recording table. “Why didn’t they say anything sooner? Are they that dim witted?” Jokūbas added, making you rub your temples. You pinched the bridge of your nose, trying to think of the fastest way to alter a song this drastically on such short notice. But really, there was no way—you needed time.
With a sudden burst of determination, you grabbed your phone and started scrolling, Emilija standing up to peek at what you were doing.
You dialed a number she didn’t recognize, and after a few rings, a man’s voice picked up. “Hello, this is Rimvydas Černiauskas.” They all froze, eyes widening as if you’d just summoned a ghost. “Holy shit,” Lukas whispered, the group instinctively clinging to each other like a makeshift human shield.
You took a steadying breath before speaking.
“Hello, Mr. Černiauskas, this is [Name] [Last Name], songwriter and producer. I’m currently working with Katarsis on a track we’ve been perfecting for the upcoming selections. We were just informed, quite unexpectedly, that the song requires significant changes. Given the nature of these adjustments, I’d like to respectfully request a delay in the selection process, if at all possible.”
The group continued to clutch each other, silently praying as they awaited his response, their nervous energy crackling in the air.
“I understand your position, but you must realize we’re working on a tight schedule. These selections are already on a strict timeline.” You tightened your grip on the phone, sweat forming on your palms. “I completely understand, sir. Believe me, we wouldn’t make this request if it weren’t absolutely necessary. We just want to make sure the song is the best it can be, not just for us, but for the integrity of the selection itself.”
Another pause, the kind that feels like it stretches for hours. You could practically hear Alanas and Emilija holding their breath behind you.
“I appreciate your commitment to quality,” he said, his tone softening just a fraction. “How much time are you asking for?” You glanced at Lukas, who held up 7 fingers. “Ideally, an extra week would give us the time we need to polish the adjustments properly. But even a few days would make a significant difference.”
You heard the rustle of papers on his end, and the faint creak of a chair as if he was leaning back, weighing the request.
“Alright,” he finally said, exhaling a bit as if making the decision had relieved some of his own tension. “I can extend the deadline by four days, but no more. I expect the final version to be nothing short of impressive.”
A wave of relief crashed over you, nearly buckling your knees. “Thank you, sir. We won’t disappoint.”
“See that you don’t,” he replied, the hint of a grin slipping into his voice before the line clicked dead.
You lowered your phone, a long sigh escaping your lips as you wiped the sweat off your palms. “We have four days, not a second longer.” You looked up to see Lukas coming to hug you with the others. “Shit, [Name] you’re amazing.” Alanas praised. “Yeah we could’ve said goodbye to Eurovision if you didn’t just save us like that as if it was nothing.” Lukas pulled away and put a hand on your shoulder. “Thanks širdutė.”
Your cheeks warmed, but you smiled softly— not knowing what to do and so you put a hand over his that was on your shoulder. “Of course.” He then awkwardly put his hand back in his pockets, making you clear youe throat. “Okay, chop chop we have work to do.” You clasped your hands together and everyone nodded— getting their instruments and walking into the recording room.
sunnystudios
liked by lukas_radz, eurovision, user772631119, katarsisgyvas and 1.7K others
sunnystudios recording sesh w/ @.katarsis :D
210 commented
katarsisgyvas 👍👍 lmao
sunnystudios replied 👍👍👍
That day, you never even thought for a second that you'd be packing for Eurovision, flying to Basel for the semi-finals just two months after Katarsis won the auditions. It all felt like a dream—you hadn’t even expected them to ask you to come along. But then Lukas messaged you, basically announcing that you were coming with.
“But what about the studio? I need money for tickets and hotels which I currently do not have, and my family..” you stammered over the phone, nerves crashing in. But it was like he’d already planned a solution for every worry you might have, and before you knew it, he’d somehow charmed you into saying yes.
Once in Basel, you met so many amazing people. You found yourself spending late nights in Sissal’s hotel room with Miriana, JJ, and Kyle. They were all so sweet and welcoming, treating you as their equal even though your role was a bit more behind the scenes. “Without people like you, our songs wouldn’t come to life,” Sissal once said, her smile warm and genuine, and the words wrapped around you like a comforting hug, washing away your lingering doubts.
You’d head back to your own room afterward, lying on the stiff, unfamiliar bed, thinking about how lucky you were to have met the quiet band. Without them, you’d still be back in Lithuania, hoping for clients to walk into your little studio, just trying to get by.
sunny_y/n
liked by sunnystudios, emoon_bass, ziferblat_band, erikavikman and 4.8K others
sunny_y/n introverts in a room full of extroverts raise your hands ✋
328 commented
emoon_bass ✋✋
lukas_radz ✋
ageofadonxs bye why am I so tall compared to eveyome
bara_vaeb were serving in this pic bro dm it to us
Once the second semi-finals came around, you were nervously fiddling with your fingers, clutching the lithuanian flag in your hands as if it was the last thing you’d ever hold. Everyone seemed so much more relaxed— and even if they were nervous, they didn’t let it show. “Hey, breathe. Even if we don’t get in the finale, we at least got to meet you through all of this.” Emilija smiled softly, putting a hand around your shoulder and listened in for the results as the first qualifier was to be announced.
“The first country to qualify for the grand final is..”
“Lithuania!”
You jumped up in excitement, and Emilija followed a second later as you all celebrated the unbelievable achievement. You hugged each of them tightly, your heart still racing with the rush of it all. But when you reached Lukas, he grabbed you by the waist and put a hand on your cheek, pressing his lips to yours before pulling you into a tight hug. “We did it, Brangioji.”
The others erupted into whistles and cheers, making the whole thing feel even more surreal. You slid back into your seat, now wedged between Lukas and Emilija, your face burning as you stared straight ahead, too stunned to say a word.
As the final country was announced, you noticed Adonxs standing off to the side, clearly devastated. You quickly crossed the room to him, pulling him into a hug. You'd spent a lot of time together during this whirlwind, and you hated to see him like this.
“I’m so sorry, Adam. I know this meant a lot to you,” you said, squeezing his shoulder as you pulled back.
“I’ll be okay,” he managed, offering you a sad smile. “I’m glad your gang made it to the finals. I’ll be cheering for you.”
Before you could say more, Sissal, Miriana, Erika, and JJ swarmed you, still buzzing from the announcement.
“[Name], we saw what happened with you and Lukas! What the hell are you doing go get your man hoe!” JJ teased, throwing an arm around your shoulders and pulling you into a playful hug.
You chuckled, shaking your head. “I’m just—I don’t know what to say. I didn’t think he liked me like that.”
You glanced over your shoulder, catching a glimpse of Lukas smiling softly with the rest of your bandmates, catching your eye as the crowd started to thin out. The night felt like a dream, the kind you hoped you wouldn’t wake up from.
sissaljo
liked by sunny_y/n, ageofadonxs, johannesjjpietsch, nemothings and 47.8K others
sissaljo so happy to have been able to meet all these wonderful people 🤍
19K commneted
sunny_y/n :,) <33
johannesjjpietsch why am i not on any of these pics ????? haha okay
sissaljo replied shut up twink love you the most
(A/N: in the second pic, the blonde is sissal and the brunnete is you, but of course you can imagine yourself however you want <3333)
sunny_studios
liked by alanas.brasas, lukas_radz, emoon_bass, jandriulius, schkodraelektronike and 3.2K others
sunnystudios so so so so proud of my lil gang :,) <3 @.katarsisgyvas
111 commneted
You soon said your goodbyes and headed to your hotel, but in stead of going to your room— you turned to the groups room which was just a floor higher then your own.
With a gentle knock, you patiently waited for someone to open up, and just a moment later Jokūbas opened the door.
“Hey, the lover boy has been going crazy over you. You should talk.” He stepped out for a second, giving you a hug. “I’m glad it’s you. We’ve all taken quite the liking to you, [Name].” He ruffled your hair and opened up the door. “Lukas! Someone’s here for you!” He yelled into the room and smiled at you one last time before going inside, letting Lukas out before closing the door behind him.
You stared at your shoes, unsure where to look as you walked down the hotel corridor. Lukas walked beside you, his hands tucked into his jacket pockets, eyes fixed ahead—probably just as nervous as you.
He cleared his throat, glancing down at the carpeted floor. “I’m sorry if what I did was.. too much. Too public, if you know what I mean. I should’ve told you how I feel in private.” He muttered, stepping out into the cold Basel air. “I hope you’re not upset. I noticed you ran off after what I did, and I’ll understand if the feelings aren’t mutual.” He met your gate, his blue eyes contrasting with your own. Reaching out, he took your hands in his, as if about to recite vows for your wedding. “But if you do happen to share these feelings with me, it would be an honour for you to let me be your boyfriend.” He breathed out, his hands cold and slightly shaky as he smiled softly.
You stared at him, speechless as he let go of your hands, giving you some space. His words slowly started to sink in— he liked you, and he was confessing it.
It would have never crossed your mind, but as you let yourself think about it, there’s always been some feelings lingering for him in the back of your mind, you just never let yourself feel them. But now, as the cold air swept through his hair, his eyes staring deep into yours, it all came crashing down on you. It was as if a stronge sense of longing had overcome you— and now it felt impossible to let go. “Tavo akys yra nežemiškos.” He cupped both of your cheeks, rubbing comforting circles on them.
You put your arms around his torso, resting your head on his chest. He didn’t hesitate to pull you closer, wrapping you in his jacket to shield you from the cold— and then you finally spoke. “I don’t know how it happened, nor how you managed to slip into my heart but I think I’ve loved you this whole time.”
You look up at him, a soft smile forming on your lips and when you did he let himself smile too, probably the brightest you’d ever seen. He pressed a kiss to your forehead, cupping your cheek
“I love you more Mylimoji.” He leaned closer, pressing soft kisses against your lips, and in that moment— you knew you were down bad.
lukas_radz
liked by sunny_y/n, emoon_bass, jandriulius, alanas.brasas, ziferblat_band and 9.4K others
Warnings: last part </3, party, alcohol, so much fluff it's almost disgusting
Summary: Reader is Matti's best friend and is brought along to this whole Eurovision mess. His annoying brother is making this trip even messier.
Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8
2.5k words - not proofread
The party starts before you’ve even left the arena.
Someone pops a bottle of something sparkling. Maybe it’s actual champagne, maybe it’s cheap prosecco, but it doesn’t matter. The Icelandic delegation passes it around like a holy relic, taking swigs straight from the bottle and laughing with the kind of relief that only comes after weeks of living on nerves and no sleep. It’s messy, it’s noisy, but it feels like a small, defiant celebration. You didn’t come last, and somehow, that’s enough to make you feel like you won.
By the time you all stumble into the official after party, the energy is somewhere between delirium and euphoria. The air is thick with sweat and perfume and that sweet burn of adrenaline, everyone’s faces flushed, limbs loose, voices raw from too much cheering and not enough water. Glitter sticks to everything. Your arms, your hair, someone’s cheek, like the night itself is determined to leave a mark.
The venue is a cavern of noise and color. The music is so loud you can feel it in your chest, the bass rattling your ribs. The lights flash in bright, dizzy bursts of pink and gold, casting everyone in an otherworldly glow. Delegations from every corner of Europe and beyond are mashed together on the dance floor, sequins catching the light, shoes long since kicked off and forgotten. It’s like the whole contest has melted down into this one wild, feverish moment.
You’re in the thick of it, a plastic cup of something suspiciously sweet in your hand, Sirry’s laughter in your ear on one side and Úlla’s high, bright whoop on the other. Matti’s already climbed up on a table with Baldwin, both of them leading a chaotically off-beat choreo to their own song while the DJ spins JJ's track at double speed. They’re not even close to the beat, but nobody cares. It’s glorious.
And Hálfdán? Hálfdán looks like he’s been waiting for this all night.
He’s in the center of the floor, moving like the music is part of his blood, shoulders loose, head thrown back. His sunglasses are perched back on his nose like they never left his face, and he’s got a paper crown someone shoved onto his head, slanted and ridiculous. He’s glowing. Maybe it’s the lights. Maybe it’s the aftershock of everything. Or maybe it’s just him.
When his eyes find yours, he grins so wide it nearly undoes you. He points straight at you from across the pulsing crowd, then crooks his finger in a slow, dramatic beckon, like you’re a VIP guest at his personal concert.
You try to fight the smile that breaks across your face, but it’s useless. It bubbles up and out of you in a bright, breathless laugh as you push your way through the bodies toward him.
“You,” he says when you’re close enough to hear, catching your wrist and spinning you in a lazy circle. “Look dangerously good.”
He’s teasing, you know he is, but there’s something in his voice. A rawness, a warmth that feels like a promise. It does something to you. The world spins around you in a blur of music and sweat and laughter, and for a moment, it feels like you’re both untouchable.
“You’re drunk,” you say, steadying yourself on his shoulder as the crowd surges around you, the beat thumping in your bones.
He leans in close, his breath warm against your ear. “So are you.”
“Barely,” you protest, though your voice wavers just a little. You’re not as far gone as some of the others, but there’s definitely a dizzy sort of buzz in your head, a heat in your veins that has nothing to do with the music.
He tilts his head, his grin lazy and full of mischief. “Then I guess,” he says, leaning his head down, his voice low, a little rough, “I just find you dangerously good all the time.”
You roll your eyes, because that’s what you’re supposed to do, but your cheeks are warm, and he can see it. You can feel it. His fingers brush along your waist, light and teasing, and your heart stutters in your chest.
“You’re ridiculous,” you murmur.
His grin just grows wider, brighter, and he says, “You like it,” like he already knows the answer.
And maybe you do. Maybe tonight, with the music and the lights and the whole world stripped down to this moment, you don’t mind at all.
For a while, you just dance. Not like professionals. Not like people being watched. Just two idiots with aching feet and tired bodies and enough adrenaline left to keep moving. Hálfdán spins you around, lets your hand go just to catch it again, and you almost trip over your own feet because you’re both laughing too hard to care. The music pounds in your chest, and for a moment, you’re sure you could keep going forever.
Someone spills something sticky and sweet on your shoes, and you’re too breathless to even care. There’s a conga line at one point that weaves through the crowd like a snake, and Úlla snatches your hand, pulling you in. She leans in close, yelling the lyrics of whatever song is playing directly into your ear like it’s the only way to make them real.
It’s chaos. Beautiful, ridiculous chaos, and you're still wearing the smile he gave you.
Eventually, the night starts to catch up with you. Your feet are killing you, and your voice is nearly gone from all the singing and shouting. Hálfdán pulls you in close, his hands warm against your waist, his forehead bumping against yours.
“Ready to call it?” he asks, his voice low and hoarse.
You nod, and he takes your hand. You weave your way out of the club together, past the tangle of bodies and the thump of bass that seems to echo in your bones. Outside, the night air is cool and fresh, a relief after the heat and sweat of the party.
He looks at you, grinning under the streetlights. “Want me to walk you back?”
You just nod again. It’s not really a question.
The city is quiet compared to the chaos you’ve just left. The air outside is cool and quiet, like the universe turned the volume down, and your footsteps sound too loud on the cobblestones. You’re still a little drunk on it all. The music, the laughter, the fact that he’s here, that he’s still holding your hand like he’s afraid to let go.
You walk side by side, not speaking at first. There’s no need to.
He swings your linked hands between you. “You alright?”
“Yeah. You?”
He hums. “Think my feet are bleeding. Worth it, though.”
You smile at the pavement.
It’s a slow walk. Neither of you in a hurry. The streets around the venue are mostly empty now, the crowds thinned out, the city calming down after its wildest night of the year. You take the long way back, past the river where you sat earlier with Sirry, past souvenir shops that are now dark and shuttered.
He’s quiet. But not awkward. Just calm. Steady.
When you reach the hotel, he follows you inside without question, moving alongside you like it’s the most natural thing in the world. The night air clings to your clothes and hair, but the quiet of the hotel lobby feels almost too still after the noise and light of the party. You slip past the doorman, up to the elevator, the soft hum of it carrying you both up to your floor.
Neither of you says much. There’s something soft about the silence, like you’re both too full of everything else to bother with words.
The hallway is dim, carpet muffling your steps. You walk slower than you need to, not wanting the moment to end. He’s beside you the whole time, his shoulder brushing yours, his hand still holding yours like a promise.
You stop at your door, the card key in your hand, suddenly not sure what to do. You’re still buzzing with adrenaline and whatever was in that plastic cup, your chest tight with the kind of warmth that feels too fragile to name.
“I don’t really want to go in yet,” you admit, your voice a little smaller than you meant it to be.
He leans against the wall beside you, one foot propped up, head tilted to look at you. “Then don’t.”
You shift the card key in your hand, heart beating too fast. “And what are we supposed to do instead?”
He smiles, just a little. “I don’t know. We could keep walking around until the sun comes up. Or… I could stay for a bit.”
You swallow. “Stay?”
He nods. “If you want me to.”
It’s stupid how much you do. How much you want to hold on to this night for just a little longer. You press the key card to the reader, the door clicking open.
“Okay,” you say, stepping back to let him in.
He walks past you, pausing just long enough to catch your hand and pull you in with him. The room is dark, quiet except for the hum of the air conditioner and your breathing.
He turns to you in the soft light of the street lamp spilling in through the window. “You know,” he says, voice low, “I can’t believe I hated you two weeks ago.”
You laugh, but it comes out choked, too close to something else. “I know. I can’t either.”
He brushes a thumb along your cheek, like he’s still trying to figure out how you ended up here, together, in the quiet after the storm.
“I don’t hate you now,” he says.
“I don’t hate you either,” you whisper back.
He leans in, his lips brushing your forehead, your cheek, your mouth. “Good,” he murmurs.
You look up at him.
He’s already watching you.
And in that instant, you forget what tired feels like. You forget the crowd, the noise, the months of buildup. All you can feel is his breath against your skin, the way his eyes hold yours like he’s afraid to blink.
His hand comes up to cup your cheek, thumb brushing slowly, carefully, beneath your eye. Like he’s memorizing you. Like he’s tracing every line and freckle now that there are no cameras left to catch you, no music to drown out the way your heart stutters in your chest.
When he kisses you, it’s nothing like the chaos of the night before.
It’s unhurried. Real.
You kiss him back without even thinking, your fingers twisting in the soft fabric of his shirt, grounding yourself in the heat of him. In something solid. Something that’s been simmering ever since that first spark, that first moment you realized he was impossible to ignore.
It deepens, slowly, like the world has narrowed to the two of you in this quiet room. His hands slide to your waist, pulling you closer, your pulse quickening in response. You bury your fingers in his hair, tugging him just a little closer, tasting the last remnants of laughter and victory and all the things you’re not sure how to name.
His lips part against yours, and the world outside the door disappears. There’s nothing but this — the warmth of him, the weight of his hands, the way he kisses you like he has all the time in the world.
But he pulls back before it gets too much.
“Wait,” he murmurs, breathing uneven. “Are you sure?”
You nod, chest aching with how much you mean it. “Yeah.”
His forehead rests against yours. “Okay.”
Then he kisses you again, and this time neither of you stop.
You lose track of time. Of the lights outside the window and the hush of the city settling down for the night. Of the faint bass thumping from the afterparty two blocks away, still echoing in your bones like a heartbeat you can’t quite shake.
You don’t know how you ended up here, in this quiet hotel room with glitter stuck to your skin and the faint taste of him still on your lips. The world outside feels far away. Unreal.
Eventually you end up on the bed, tangled in sheets that smell faintly of laundry soap and something sweeter you can’t place. Still fully dressed, shoes kicked off but everything else a blur. You’re both too tired to care. Too wrapped up in the way his fingers trace circles on your hip, in the warmth of his body pressed close to yours.
He tugs the paper crown from his head with a sleepy mutter and drops it on the floor like it’s a piece of the night he doesn’t need anymore. You laugh, just a little, and do the same with your lanyard, letting it fall from your fingers.
Then you curl into his side, breathing him in like you’re trying to memorize the way he smells: sweat and soap and a hint of cologne, something that’s just him. His heartbeat is steady under your cheek, and the slow rise and fall of his chest anchors you in a way you didn’t know you needed.
His hand draws slow, absent-minded shapes against your back. A wordless comfort, a promise you don’t have to hear to believe. Neither of you speak. There’s nothing to say. Nothing you need to explain.
Then you shift slightly, turning your head to look up at him through the dim glow of the bedside lamp.
“Can’t believe I hated you two weeks ago,” you murmur, voice low and soft.
He snorts, eyes still closed but a smile playing at the corners of his mouth. “You were obsessed with me. Don’t lie.”
You shove at his chest, just enough to make him crack one eye open. “You were unbearable.”
“I was charming.”
“You were loud. And cocky. And… so sure of yourself.” You pause, then add, “It was annoying.”
He tilts his head a little, amusement flickering in his half-lidded gaze. “And you couldn’t stay away.”
You sigh, letting your head rest back against him, lips brushing the edge of his jaw. “God, I really couldn’t.”
He hums, the sound deep and content, and pulls you closer, wrapping his arm around you like he’s anchoring you there. “Good thing you didn’t,” he says, his voice soft and a little rough with exhaustion.
You close your eyes, his heartbeat a steady rhythm under your ear. The weight of his arm around you, the warmth of his skin, the quiet of the room around you. It’s all so simple, so easy.
His hand finds yours under the covers, fingers lacing with yours without a word. Like it’s always been that way. Like it always will be.
And yeah. Maybe you did hate him two weeks ago.
But now you’re here, wrapped up in each other like it’s the most natural thing in the world, and you’re not sure how you ever existed before this.
Before him.
✦ . ⁺ . ✦ . ⁺ . ✦ . ⁺ . ✦ . ⁺ . ✦ . ⁺
a/n: please don't be mad at me but this is the end of worst plus one </3. THANK YOU to every single one of you for your endless love and support, i had so so much fun writing this!! <3 and don't worry, i'll keep proving you with hálfdán fics & maybe start writing for other esc people too, we'll see :3
Lukas Radzevicius x Reader where they js cuddle after eurovision :3 thank you so much hehe
too much
warnings: fluff and like slight angst
A/N: um every time I say I don’t have motivation I suddenly can write like I’m quan millz
Translations: ateik čia meile = come here love. labanakt: good night
stress still gnawing at you as you walk to your room, relieved you and your band made it to the final but there was still something missing, you couldn’t put your finger on it.
Maybe it’s the fact lukas hasn’t been able to talk to you all day
Or maybe it’s that your manager keeps on yelling at you because you “revealed your secret relationship with lukas” when it was just YOUR private moment-
Oh shit you didn’t even noticed lukas was already in your room, he was in pajamas and a hoodie
“When did you get here?” You ask slowly rubbing your eye
“As soon as the after party ended”
he sat up straight as you walked over in front of him you bend down and give him a kiss on the forehead
“I need to get changed lukas.” Almost slurring over your words from how tired you are
જ⁀➴
Barely conscious you managed to find some sweatpants and a spaghetti strap shirt after a while.
Settling in bed next to lukas felt like heaven to you. Not being able to be alone with your boyfriend was so annoying, interviewer after interviewer asking you the same questions.
But with just lukas and you, you could ask your own questions.
“Rough day?”
“Kinda..” you mumbled
“ateik čia meile.”
You place your head against his chest
“You’re so pretty.”
“You’re really handsome”
He hums back at your response
“labanakt y/n, I love you.” He whispers softly
“Labanakt lukas mm… I love you too” Your final sentence before you were knocked out with your boyfriend.
Summary: You are just a normal girl working in Vienna in a small Café, when you fought Satoshi’s eye.
Pairing: Satoshi x fem!reader
You were just trying to get through your Tuesday shift at a small Café in Vienna’s 8th district. Mostly locals and a few exhausted journalists who wanted decent coffee came by, people who wanted to leave the chaos of Eurovision behind for a little bit.
He walked in around 11 a.m. on the second day of rehearsals, hood up, his dark hair messy, eyes tired.
“Espresso. Double. And whatever pastry you think is actually good,” He said in English with a soft East-European accent.
You raised an eyebrow, “Bold of you to trust my taste.”
He gave you a small smile, “I have a good feeling about your taste.”
You couldn’t help but blush at his answer, quickly walking away from his table to start working on his order. After a few minutes, and a few deep breaths to calm yourself down, you brought him an espresso and a cherry-almond croissant which sold out fast every day.
That should have been the end of it, but it wasn’t.
———
He came back every morning after the interaction between the two of you. Always the same table by the window, always asking you if you want to keep him company for a few minutes. On the fourth visit, you finally sat with him during your break.
“You’re not going to ask for a selfie or a signature?” he teased, wanting to know if you were aware of who he was.
“Nope. I’m going to ask why a guy performing in front of 180 million people looks more stressed in a café than on stage.” You answered casually, even if you were freaking out on the inside.
He studied your face for a few seconds, before he smiled at you once again, “Because on stage I know exactly who I’m supposed to be. Here? I’m just Vlad who misses his grandmother’s food and hasn’t slept properly in two weeks.”
That honesty left you speechless for a moment, “I mean- you are always welcome here if the Eurovision chaos is too much to handle.”
“Well, actually I wanted to ask you something else…” He mumbled, with a smirk.
———
That’s how you found yourself with him at a little park near your café, talking with him for what seemed like hours. He told you about growing up in Cahul and drumming on pots as a kid. You told him about failing your first year of university and secretly loving the chaos of ESC week, even if you pretended to be totally unimpressed by it.
And then, all of a sudden, he kissed you. At first it was soft, then deeper, his hand sliding into your hair like he’d been thinking about it for days. When you pulled back, breathing hard, he rested his forehead against yours.
“I really shouldn’t be doing this right now,” he whispered.
“Then stop.” You muttered back, your voice filled with a hint of disappointment.
He kissed you harder instead.
———
A few days later the Grand Final took place in the Vienna Stadthalle. You watched from home like a normal person, when Moldova placed 8th. A few minutes after the voting had ended, Satoshi shared his location with you, clearly wanting to see you. When you arrived he was already waiting. He was still in his stage outfit, buzzing with adrenaline. Satoshi pulled you into a tight hug, lifted you off the ground, and kissed you like no one was watching. But someone was and the blurry photo went viral overnight.
That's why the official press conference the next day was intense.
A British reporter went straight in, “Satoshi, care to comment on the pictures with the anonymous girl?”
Satoshi leaned forward, calm but firm, “She’s Austrian. She has nothing to do with music or Eurovision. She’s just a really good person who made this crazy week feel normal. We spent some time together and I like her a lot.”
Another question reporter stood up, “Is it serious?”
He smiled, “I hope it becomes serious.”
And that’s all it took to go viral once more. Fans made edits on TikTok to his song ‘Viva, Moldova’, using the picture of you two kissing and his statement at the press conference.
A.N; I don’t really know how to feel about this but I still wanted to share it:)
Due to the Eurovision 2026 nostalgia already getting the best of me, I might be opening like last year x reader requests for every artist we've seen on stage this year!
I can make either small drabbles based on your prompt, or longer one shots/headcanons.
The ones I definitely have already open are: Akylas, Søren, all the girls, Lion, Satoshi.
Depending on there request, I'll decide whether to write it or not.
AN: Guess who’s back! Yeah, it’s me heh. Guys I’m so sorry for abandoning you for a year, everything has been a bit hectic with my family and my studies and stuff, still is, but I’m trying to manage my time better (key word: trying). Anyway, I leave you with another part of Oh No because I was somehow able to watch ESC again this year and my brain rot came back, gifting me with a smudge of inspiration that I had to wring out as much as I could.
Warnings: none I think? Bad English (I’m sorry, I promise I’m trying), implied thoughts (iykwim), I don’t know if there are any curse words here but I warn y’all just in case.
Pairings: Bojan Cvjetićanin x fem!actress!reader + a tiny bit of Bojan x Käärijä + a tiny bit of Käärijä x fem!actress!reader
Words: 1700+
Part 1, Part 2
Without further a due, here is part 3! Hope you enjoy!
As soon as Jere woke up, his first thought was about having lunch with Bojan and the Slovene’s girlfriend. His stomach did somersaults at the idea.
He cursed to himself when he took a look at his phone, seeing that it was later than he would’ve wanted.
He got ready as quickly as he could, taking a little more time choosing his outfit, since he wanted to look presentable and, when he was done, took everything he would need to go out and exited his room.
He knocked twice on Bojan’s room door and waited patiently (not) for someone to open the door.
“Just a second!” He heard a feminine voice from inside, sounding breathless.
The girl opened the door with a smile on her face and Jere couldn’t help but notice the light freckles across her nose bridge and cheeks. Since when did she have those? He hadn’t noticed the night before.
“Sorry, we slept in,” she said sheepishly.
“Don’t worry.” He smiled back.
When he looked towards the rest of the room, he could make out Bojan putting a shirt on and closing the closet door, smiling at Jere when he noticed him.
“Good morning!” The Slovene exclaimed cheerfully while the girl went towards the bathroom.
“Just gonna put on some makeup to fix my zombie face,” she excused herself.
“No need fix,” Jere murmured under his breath at the same time Bojan grumbled something along the lines of “what zombie face? You look like a princess in the mornings”.
She giggled cutely and singsonged a “thank you boys”, making the two men flush and widen their eyes at each other.
Bojan and Jere looked at different restaurants in the Slovene’s phone to decide where they would go beforehand while the girl finished up in the bathroom.
Exiting the hotel lobby with both Bojan and his girlfriend made him feel floaty and he couldn’t keep the dopey smile out of his face, small chuckles leaving his throat at any stupid comment one of them would make.
~~
She couldn’t help but smile as soon as she woke up, the warmth enveloping her being way too familiar for her not to know who it was embracing her from behind.
The girl stretched and snorted when Bojan grumbled something incoherent, a bad headache probably on the way to full development after the night before.
“Good morning, my love,” she whispered against his temple before kissing the warm skin there.
The grumbles grew louder in volume and she chuckled, amused, getting up and heading for the bathroom.
Finishing her morning routine was easy, as she had been doing it automatically for years. However, the fact that there was a dull ache at the back of her head made her choose to be safe and not sorry, taking out a couple of pills and swallowing one herself.
The girl took the room card and, when she was out in the corridor (pyjama-clad and all), she fist bumped when she saw what she caught a glimpse of the day before: a water fountain -with paper cups and all!
She took one of the cups and filled it with fresh water, making her way into the room again and leaving the glass and the pill on the bedside table for Bojan.
Then she checked the time.
“Shit!” She turned towards the bed and climbed on it, gently shaking her boyfriend awake. “Come on, my love.”
“Nooooo,” he whined, “five more minutes.”
“We’re gonna be late for lunch with Jere,” she explained, making him sit up instantly.
“Ugh, my head hurts,” Bojan complained, running a hand down his face and messing up his already messy bed hair.
“Swallow this, it’ll help.”
“You’re an angel sent from Heaven, dear.” He kissed her cheek and took the pill with a big gulp of water.
She chuckled while searching for something cute to wear, deciding on a floral dress, to match the spring weather (although cold, so a jacket would have to do).
There were knocks on the door and she laughed at Bojan trying to put on clothes quickly while getting detangled from the bedsheets.
~~
They finally found a restaurant they all wanted to try and they were lucky enough to be told that it wasn’t full.
“What are you gonna order?” The girl asked her boyfriend, a small pout on her lips when she couldn’t choose just one dish from the menu.
“Probably the chops,” Bojan answered.
“Of course, you Balkan dad.” Her chuckles made Jere smile with a confused tilt of his head.
“What is Balkan dad?”
Both the girl and the Slovene crossed glances and started full on laughing, a couple of heads turning in their direction.
“It’s a stereotype,” she started, but continued explaining when he just stared at her, “apparently, all dads in the Balkan countries behave the same way; and that includes loving barbecued meat!”
“Ah,” he let out eloquently.
The conversation kept flowing after they ordered their food, the sound of their amused laughter filling the small restaurant with lively energy.
“I do! I love Rammstein!” She tried to convince the other two after Käärijä mentioned his favourite band.
“There’s no way, I’ve never heard you listening to them, ever,” Bojan countered
“That’s cause I always wear headphones, duh!”
Jere was wheezing when they kept going back and forth, his cheeks hurting from how much he was smiling that day.
He chanced a look at Bojan when he couldn’t hear them arguing anymore and caught him staring with a soft smile.
“What?” He couldn’t help but ask. The smile on the other man’s face grew wider and he flushed a little.
“Nothing.”
“For real though.” The girl seemed to not have seen any of it. “A lot of people on TikTok edited me to Sonne when the last episode of The Enemy came out.”
“I get it,” Bojan agreed, suddenly, “The Enemy was way too good and the vibes of that song kinda fit.”
When Jere didn’t answer them, the Slovene turned to him with bright eyes and started explaining the plot of a show his girlfriend starred in.
“Stoooop, stop it, Bojan.” She pushed his arm as if to get his attention. “That’s enough, you don’t have to tell him everything.”
Her face was so red, and the rapper stared at the way her eyes seemed shinier.
“She looks beautiful when she blushes, right?” The Slovene teased when he saw the face Jere was making.
“No! Yes, yes,” he stuttered, blood running towards his face, “very pretty.”
She blushed harder at the comment, her eyes looking anywhere but at the two men.
“Okay, that’s enough, the both of you,” she stammered out, a small smile on her lips making it obvious that she wasn’t mad.
“Sorry, love, can’t help it,” Bojan said with a childish grin.
The conversation went towards the rehearsals and the schedules the Slovene and Fin had the next day, trying to make plans to hang out but finding they couldn’t due to everything being overlapped.
“Excuse me, I apologise but we really need a table and, since you have finished already, would you mind continuing your conversation by the bar or somewhere else, please?” A waitress asked them politely with a sorry smile on her face.
“Sure, sorry miss, we’ll be leaving now!” She announced with a flourish.
They kept discussing the next days’ schedules and ended up with a dinner plan and the idea that the girl could take turns to see the both of them during the day, as she insisted on watching them both practice.
“So, Jere, up to join us for a Netflix and chill session?”
“Bojan!” The girl stared at her boyfriend, bewildered, frantically looking around the lobby of their hotel to see if anyone else had heard.
The expression on the Fin’s face must have told the other man that he actually knew what that meant and a smirk started stretching Bojan’s lips.
“Just kidding,” the Slovene singer relented after a good laugh.
“We could watch something on Netflix, though, if you want, Jere.” The girl smiled at him, a pink hue decorating her cheeks.
Käärijä chanced another look at Bojan’s little smirk and looked away immediately after they crossed glances, slowly nodding at the girl and following the couple towards their hotel room.
He was sure Bojan knew that something was up with him, and he worried a bit (a lot) about making the other man uncomfortable.
He didn’t want to lose their friendship just because he developed a small (?) crush on him and his girlfriend. However, he told himself it didn’t seem like Bojan was mad at him; in fact, it looked exactly the opposite, as if the other singer wanted to get a reaction out of him.
He didn’t want to speculate or overthink too much, though, so he let it be for the moment.
When the subject of his thoughts opened the door with his key card, he immediately regretted his decision. There was no way the three of them would fit in that bed.
“Do you guys want snacks? We can order room service- or… didn’t we have a bunch of chocolate stuff around here somewhere, babe?” The girl started walking around and searching for something in the small fridge.
“What do you wanna watch?” Bojan asked him with a small smile directed towards his cute (what? Stop it!) girlfriend.
“You want, is fine,” he answered, trying hard to control where his eyes went.
When the girl stood back up with a quiet ‘aha!’, Bojan had already decided what to watch, setting up the laptop.
“Guys,” she started, biting her lip, “shouldn’t we at least change from our outside clothes? We sleep there, Bojan.”
“That’s very true.” He raised a hand towards his face and pushed away his hair, leaving it tousled (cute- no!). “Do you want some of my clothes, Jere? So that you don’t have to go all the way to your room.”
“Okay,” he said, ears flushing at the thought.
The girl went inside the bathroom with a set of clothes and Bojan handed him a pair of sweats and a black shirt with a smile, turning around and starting to take off his own clothes.
“Don’t look, don’t look, don’t look!” He told himself, widening his eyes and quickly turning around, changing as fast as he possibly could.
AN2: hope you enjoyed it! If you want any more parts, give it some love!
