mine oh mine

27yo, she/her pavle_rosvo on ao3

[pavle-rosvo]

intro post yay

hi! you can call me rosvo or ro

minors dni

english isn't my first language

i really love to chat, so feel free to message me

you can find me on ao3 and also my main acc for spam

please do not repost or translate any of my work

ty

[pavle-rosvo]

paddy (x eoin) & nobody's son by sabrina carpenter

i was in a silly mood and it was extra funny in my head. also posted on tiktok 🤭

[pavle-rosvo]

paddy x eoin & camilla by jude york

well hi !! also check it out on tiktok please 🥺

[pavle-rosvo]

paddy(eoin) & factories by autoheart

also posted on tt 🥺🤲🏻

[pavle-rosvo]

about a hundred words of boffins for funsies

bofur is close, closer than bilbo had thought he was. his calloused, large fingers trace angular patterns in the ground, dry and dusty between them, and it takes the hobbit a few more moments to see the runes in them.

he sighs, sad because all his life linguistic research and interests were limited to common speech and elvish, whereas he could not even read khuzdul, let alone understand what was written.

but perhaps bofur is writing something insignificant. something unimportant... this thought is quick and rash, because the dwarf, noticing his gaze, looks up — and through his braided beard breaks a smile so bright that bilbo physically feels the tips of his ears heating up.

[pavlerosvo]

Gus/Henry for the win !!

posted it on tiktok but it doesn't really get views 😞 idk what to do

but yeah... i adore the dynamic between these two (as well as between Anders and Freddy, gonna make an edit with them as well). Gus and Henry feel like WWII version of Hartwin tbh. lovely lads

[pavle-rosvo]

modern au! eoin x paddy

from Be a Better Us by @torakowalski

[pavle-rosvo]

paddyeoin as frankenstein and his creature

death of a dear friend could drive anybody mad. but paddy was already there in the beginning, so could you really blame him when with bloodied hands and manic twinkle in his eyes he stood above the tweaking body, storm roaring outside.

he needed eoin back. paddy couldn't bear living without him.

[pavle-rosvo]

paddyeoin as pacific rim jaeger pilots

their first drift together is a revelation. eoin's smile is as bright as the sun and paddy just cannot let him down, smiling back but softer, colours muted. they are in each other's brains and it feels so crazy yet so fucking right.

[pavle-rosvo]

sheriarty & mycelium eyes by sub urban

please give it some support on tt as well if you like it, i would really appreciate it

[pavle-rosvo]

about a hundred words of ys!sheriarty for funsies

sherlock is childish, and to some extent even gullible — james, even if he doesn't notice it right away, doesn't admit it even to himself. what is the use of this particular truth?

and then there's no time for that at all: corpse after corpse, evidence after evidence. they pull on the thread, unwinding the ball more and more, and sherlock runs, runs without stopping, not really able to keep up.

james is genuinely confused, why is everyone so sure that he's the one behind? that he's in the shadows? while he looks from the side, knows his every thought, and is let in the family circle. he's the devil on sherlock's shoulder, but certainly not his shadow.

oh, how he wishes he could put sherlock on his knees.

doing a challenge writing 100 words for 100 days. wish me luck i guess and this was for day 23 hehe

[pavle-rosvo]

about a hundred words of modern lyodunk for funsies

while dusk is gathering behind the glass and the windows in the neighboring houses are lighting up one by one, lyonel and dunk are already preparing dinner. more precisely, they are trying — both are coping with the task with difficulty, even though dunk has been taking care of himself for most of his life. lyonel, as a lord, hardly ever took care of himself, but it's never too late to start.

right now baratheon, having pinned his bangs with the hairpins little egg had given him, is diligently stirring the boiling macaroni. pasta, anyone in this and all adjacent houses would have corrected him. except for dunk. it's more important to him that their dinner doesn't turn into porridge — and even then, he probably would have eaten it anyway.

dunk himself is now concentrating on grating cheese. lyonel sincerely tries not to be distracted from the task assigned to him, but the expression on dunk's face attracts his gaze. and the tense biceps attract his grabby hands. but he's holding on.

only because he knows that well-fed dunk is obedient dunk.

doing a challenge writing 100 words for 100 days. wish me luck i guess and this was day 1 hehe

[pavle-rosvo]

about a hundred words of snowcrow for funsies

in the silence of the library as the fiery red ray of the sun is sinking lower and lower, the only movement that raises dust particles to dance in the air is the turning of the pages by the young man opposite of him. sylus, resting his cheek on his fist, sighs heavily. he's been here for about an hour. completely ignored.

tearing his gaze away from the other's glasses reflecting the pages of the textbook, he lazily looks around. on friday evening, the warmest in recent months, most students want to be anywhere but on campus. with rare exceptions: outside the window behind the rustle of young leaves, he can hear someone calling, the thin clang of a bicycle bell…

next page.

with another sigh, sylus stretches out on the counter, resting his head on his forearm. he knows that zayne is annoyed by his sighs, just as he knows that he is silent and tolerates him out of politeness. probably.

doing a challenge writing 100 words for 100 days. wish me luck i guess and this was day 5 btw

[pavle-rosvo]

pairing: sylus/reader, sylus/reader/zayne wc: 1.2k

zayne knew about sylus for a long time — he warned you about the leader of onychinus when you were just starting to investigate the core in your chest. did sylus know about zayne? yes, but how much — you couldn't answer. you told him about zayne as your doctor, but most likely mephisto had his full record.

being in close relationships with both of them, you faced a pretty obvious choice. you didn't want to make a decision at all, so you left everything to fate. and to speed up the process, you invited sylus to meet zayne with you. of course, you warned both of them that you'd have a plus one, but that's it.

now you're sitting at a round table in a cafe on one of the three soft chairs, with zayne and sylus on either side of you. innocently introducing them as if they have no idea about each other, you start studying the menu. silence hanging over the table seems to bother only yourself.

after a couple of minutes, waiter comes over and you place your order. while waiting, men attempt to drill a hole in each other with their eyes — you frantically try to figure out how to resolve the tension. yet sylus is ahead of you.

"it suddenly got colder in lincon today. aren't you cold, doctor?" he nods at the light jacket that zayne has carefully draped over the back of his chair.

he only purses his lips in response and casts a brief glance at you. at first, you don't understand what's going on — and just at that moment your drinks arrive.

you know perfectly well that sylus is well-mannered, practically a prince, judging only by his manners. so when he noisily sucks from his cup, you can only raise your eyebrows, almost choking on your own cappuccino. zayne makes a face at the unpleasant sound, but you can clearly see sylus' smirk hidden behind the cup. he twitches his eyebrows, looking into your eyes, and you purse your lips — the hope of peaceful coexistence is gradually fading.

so, behind sylus' not-so-carefully hidden jokes and zayne's dry answers, you spend probably another half hour... until zayne apologizes — to both of you — and runs out of the cafe, justifying himself with an urgent call from work. looking at his retreating back and scarlet ears, you toot with displeasure, turning to sy. he shrugs his shoulders innocently, looking at you with cunning eyes. sighing, you finish your dessert before it finally melts.

you don't believe it when zayne says that he really was called to the hospital — until he sends you a photo with grayson, where they are both in medical coats, with the doors of the operating room in the background. in response, you ask him not to be offended by sylus, because you were sure that he would behave more decently. zayne responds with a funny sticker with a snowman, and that's the end of the dialogue for this time.

when zayne asks you to give sylus a small gift box, you don't protest. you think — did they finally find a common language? therefore, you even present a gift to sylus with some joy when he comes over on his motorcycle. he frowns skeptically, but pulls on the ribbon on the box anyway.

you can't help but laugh in surprise when the lid flies off somewhere to the side, and a volley of confetti mixed with snow shoots into sylus' face. the man slowly looks up at you with tired eyes.

"as if luke and kieran aren't enough for me."

it seems to you that maybe they will stop at this, even though the decision still does not come to you.

in the hospital hallway, you practically jump on the spot when you almost bump into sylus, unsuccessfully hiding behind a cap and mask. he has a small bouquet in his hands — you open your mouth in amazement, ready to ask a few questions that worry you, but he doesn't let you say a word, handing you flowers. he still has one separate blossom in his fingers, and after clearing his throat, he holds it out to zayne, who was walking with you.

"thanks, doc. for your concern… about her."

zayne looks at the white rose, then at sylus, then back at the rose, and hesitantly accepts the offering.

"that's my job. you have nothing to thank me for."

sylus just shrugs. the flowers smell gorgeous. you seem to have missed the moment when they switched to informal communication.

you expect a trick almost every day after that — every time you communicate with one or the other. nothing happens for a while, and you're consumed by the routine, until suddenly sylus tells you to invite zayne to your private dinner. by dutifully completing the task, you are surprised to find that zayne agrees and is even free enough to join you.

you find yourself sitting at the same table with both of them again, but this time you're wearing an evening dress and the atmosphere is more intimate. you keep running through in your head the picture of sylus waiting alone and immediately stopping twirling his keys on his index finger and allowing himself a short grin when he saw both of you in the doorway. preoccupied with this mental picture, you don't notice how zayne is having fun with the other's appliances, freezing either a fork or a glass of sylus, making him pull his hand away at first from the cold and surprise. at the same time, both manage to maintain some kind of small talk, in which you don't really take part, focusing more on the sounds of their mixing voices, low timbre and calm tempo.

a sudden silence breaks you out of this trance — both are looking at you expectantly. both of them have dancing lights in their eyes. you abstractly notice that their emerald and garnet combine beautifully.

before you can ask again or react in any other way, sylus turns his gaze to zayne with a grin, and zayne nods still looking at your face, smiling softly with the corners of his lips. you frown incomprehensibly.

everything turns into a whirlpool — you're lost in what's going on around you, but some things are also crystal clear: zayne leads you out while sylus pays the bill, and then the two of them help you into the backseat of the car. sylus then climbs in from the other side — you watch as he tries not to push his knees into the back of driver's seat, in which zayne takes his place, but with his height this is somewhat problematic.

when the lights in the salon go out, sylus' palm finds your thigh, the area just above your knee that peeks through the slit of your dress. the next moment, zayne's hand finds it too, and their fingers collide; sylus' chuckle, like zayne's hum, almost disappear into the sound of the engine starting, but you can still hear them. it's exciting to think about what awaits you at home.

[pavle-rosvo]

pairing: caleb&mc warning: cnc/dubcon, mention of thigh fucking wc: 0.3k

she's not scared. almost is the key word that she swallows, hides from herself, from her own consciousness as far as possible. the taste of the strawberry milk that her brother handed her differs only a bit, but at that moment she already understands and accepts the situation in which she finds herself.

caleb watches every sip she takes.

she goes limp a little earlier than he expects her to — surprisingly, this does not arouse suspicion. gege gently picks up her pliant body and carries it in his arms... huh, to the right here? to his room, apparently. then sheets and a pillow, the smell of his sweat. she doesn't move, just lies there. there are noises: caleb is walking around the room, changing clothes, doing something.

next sensation is mattress bending under someone's weight. then a body presses from behind, close, so close, as if it were an attempt to merge together. she can hear her brother's labored breathing, can feel the warmth of his flushed body. its hottest part is pressing right against her ass.

she couldn't open her eyes even if she wanted to, her mind swimming. last conscious action she can manage is to barely push her hips back into the heat, into the hardness.

caleb freezes for a moment, but he seems to write it off as something unconcious, something she did involuntarily in her sleep. then there's only the coolness of lube on the inside of her thighs, something hot sliding tight between them, pressing against her core, and darkness.

darkness swallows everything.

[pavle-rosvo]

ughhh i just need someone to talk to about them 😩 and tho im not really familiar with cowboy culture buuut i dug around yesterday bc this idea wouldnt leave me alone… so!

spencer coming to the rodeo show somewhere in rural area and cowboy!shayne catching his eye 🥺 just imagine: scorching hot sun, spencer with a drink, couple of onlookers around. spencer's specs reflecting rays of sunshine and shayne meeting his gaze when leaving the arena. them seeing each other again later that day, at a bar in the evening, spencer just sitting and watching everyone dance and shayne joining him at his table in the corner. them talking with each other all night long and then leaving the bar together. and before parting ways shayne puts his hat on spencer's head, and spencer looks up at him with his big doe eyes and a million thoughts running behind them because he's aware of implication behind the gesture. and he doesn't want to turn shayne down

yeah so

[pavle-rosvo]

pairing: sylus/reader, sylus/reader/zayne warning: slight footfetish wc: 0.5k

sylus always had a weakness for beautiful things. people.

sometimes he feels a little crazy — collecting cute trinkets, pretty things, collecting this and that. when money came, the items in his collection became more expensive, more attractive, more dangerous. meeting you marked a new round in his little obsession.

and sometimes sylus just can't take his eyes off your legs — not only his eyes, he rarely misses the opportunity to run his fingertips over your thigh, calf, or ankle. you don't pay attention at first, preoccupied with slightly different, more pressing issues at the beginning of your acquaintance, followed by tactical cooperation, and then the start of your relationship. but over time these moments stop eluding you.

sylus is always willing to kneel for you, to fix the clasp on your shoe or make sure that the strap doesn't chafe. you like to look down at him — unusual picture for you. sometimes you "accidentally" touch his groin with the tip of your shoe — he barely reacts, only a quick sharp glance tells you that danger is close. you just have to reach with your hand.

sylus loves buying you things. shoes especially. loves going shopping with you when you're in the mood, or even bringing you to the atelier to take measurements. holding your foot in the palm of his hand and carefully putting a sandal on it. or a heel. or a boot. coming home and massaging your feet practically for hours on end is his favorite activity.

with the appearance of another person in your relationship, sylus doesn't change his habits. you know it's not a problem for zayne to buy good, comfortable shoes on his own. which is why it's twice as surprising when sylus successfully negotiates with your doctor about shopping together.

that day the three of you are walking through a premium shopping mall. it may not be very noticeable to zayne, but it quickly becomes obvious to you — how much effort sylus is putting in to not start helping him with fitting shoes. and if you couldn't understand his interest in your own feet before, now, looking at zayne's feet hidden by snow white socks (which are also secured with garters, as it turns out a little later — you can almost hear sylus' mouth fill with saliva), it's as if you could even share his passion.

you don't have time to slow down your own fantasy, and your thoughts run, float away on their own: to the large palms sliding down zayne's dark trousers, lower and lower, and then sylus picking up the edge of the pant leg and sliding his fingers up the pale skin to unbutton the garters and pull down the sock carefully. exposing the ankle, then the arch of the foot. to zayne turning his head slightly, looking away, and his ears turning red, and his lips tightening into a thin line. he wouldn't have done anything, and it would've mean so much.

oh, it's your favorite part.