Archive of Our Own

Rose Landry has a problem. Well, several problems to be honest.

At almost 40 weeks pregnant, she is so fucking tired. She feels huge and has near constant pressure on her poor bladder. It’s 3:00 in the morning and her bladder is waking her up for the second time that night. And if it’s not her bladder, it’s a foot or an elbow jabbing into her rib cage.

But whatever. She’s a big A-list actor, she’s used to being tired. She’s used to long, late night shoots and holding her urge to pee until the set took a break.

Her big problem is that she is so fucking horny. Like, needs to be put through a mattress horny. And again, at 40 weeks pregnant with her best friend’s and his husband’s baby, the chances of being put through a mattress are nada. Zilch. Zero.

When she offered to be a surrogate for Shane Hollander and Ilya Rozanov almost two years ago, she would have never guessed what lay ahead for her. Given that it’s her first time being pregnant, she was shocked after the first trimester passed and she was suddenly like a cat in heat. Hormones or extra blood flow or whatever the doctor had said. She could barely go a day without getting herself off, sometimes two or even three times. The amount of underwear she would go through in a week was insane. It was one of the first times she absolutely regretted being single.

Moving into the third trimester, she was really hoping that some of that rabid horniness would start to fade. And it did, for the most part. She’s in the home stretch now and it’s returned with an ugly vengeance. Possibly even worse than before.

Her whole body feels sensitive and there’s a near constant throbbing between her legs.

The absolute worst part is that for the last two weeks she’s been staying with Shane and Ilya in their house in Ottawa. In preparation for the birth and so they could help with anything she needs.

It sounded like a great idea at the time.

But now it’s in the middle of the night, and she is stuck listening to them fuck loudly down the hall. And she feels like she might die. Because this has happened every single night.

She can’t help that her perverted little horned up body is so fucking turned on by it, it’s fucking hot. Every night without fail, her bladder wakes her up near bursting, and as she struggles to get out of bed and shuffle along to the bathroom, she can hear them.

Sometimes it’s low, almost vibrating whimpers accompanied by the creak of their bedframe. Others it’s loud, quick and desperate. Where she can actually hear every fuck and oh my god and Baby and so good. Any every time she could cry with how badly she wants to be fucked like that. Every time she hates herself a little bit for listening, body tense with how hard she tries not to touch herself.

Tonight it’s the worst, though.

She can hear them, like usual. But as she starts her slow waddle to the bathroom, their sounds grow louder. She pauses, because usually the bathroom is the one place where she can go to drown out the sounds.

When she finally gets inside and drops onto the toilet, it sounds like they are right on the other side of the wall.

There’s a thud that makes her jump and also confirms that, yup, they are right on the other side of the wall. Thinking about the layout of the house, she realizes they must be in their shower. Which apparently butts right up against the guest bathroom. Fucking great.

She had tried to gently hint at Shane yesterday that she could mostly hear their nightly activities, but she really didn’t think he understood what she was implying. But maybe he did? And their solution was to go into the shower to drown out their noises…not realizing that it was so much worse. Like she might as well have been in the room with them for how much she is currently hearing. And now visualizing. And oh my god, she is practically throbbing with how turned on she is by it.

She makes a mental note to check out audio porn later because clearly, it’s definitely doing it for her. She does her best to mentally block out the sounds as she empties her bladder and washes her hands. She has almost cleared the bathroom when the thud sounds again followed by a muffled, “Holy fuck. Ilya. You’re so deep.”

Oh my god.

She can’t help it, really, how her body reacts. Partly because she’s been on edge for fucking days, partly because hormones have overtaken her body. Hearing Shane literally sent goosebumps pebbling across her skin. Her nipples ached and her pussy clenched. Her fingers are itching to slide into her shorts and just relieve this ache.

But, it’s Shane. And Ilya. It feels so fucked up.

Another moan. Another thud. A loud slap followed by a gasp. “Look at you, Hollander. So fucking pretty. Take it.”

She feels like she’s on fire. Heat pooling in her low belly. She knows already that her underwear is soaked through. Has been soaked through for weeks.

Rose blinks and finds herself pressed up against the far wall of the bathroom, ear flat against it. God, she’s being such a fucking pervert, a hormonal little horndog.

Technically, she thinks, it’s because of them that she’s currently huge and hormonal and panting like she’s in heat. Her mind is already so hazy with the need to get off, that she lets that idea justify her decision to keep on listening. Ear pressed to the wall, one hand down her shorts and the other rubbing small circles around her hard nipples.

She’s a weak, sad woman and she’ll feel bad about it later. She can’t help but think if they didn’t want her listening then they would surely do a better job being quiet, right?

Her knees buckle, almost whimpering at the first glide of her fingers over her clit. She has to bite her lip to keep the moan from slipping out of her mouth. It feels too good. Better than it probably should. She does her best to keep her breathing quiet, only so she can continue to hear everything that is coming through the wall. It sounds like Shane must be pressed right against the other side. Just drywall, wood and tile separating him and Ilya from her.

“Ilya, baby. Please.”

“Are you close? Tell me.”

“Fuck. Yes, so—so close.” Another thud, followed by a moan.

“Are you going to come on my cock, malysh?”

“Yes. Yes. Ilya—”

“Do you think she can still hear us? You’re not being very quiet, my love.”

A loud, long moan. Rose gasps, the lazy circles she was rubbing on her clit slowing to a stop. Holding her breath, she presses her ear even harder into the wall.

“Oh, you like knowing that she’s been hearing you get fucked. Haven’t you?”

Her mouth drops open.

“No—no, baby.” Shane pleads.

“No? I’m not sure I believe you.”

“Ilyaaaa, please.”

“Maybe I should slow down, let you get quiet again, yes? So she doesn’t hear.”

Holy shit. They were talking about her. This might be the most turned on Rose has ever been. Shane’s reply was too quiet and mostly moans for her to understand what he said back, but considering there is now a heavy, rhythmic thud, thud, thud, against the wall…Ilya definitely was not slowing down. The hand currently down her pants starts to frantically circle around her clit again.

“Fuck, Shane. You just love showing off how good you are.”

Shane is letting out high pitched whimpers coinciding with every thud against the wall.

“Finally Landry can hear what sex with sounds like, that's not disaster.”

“Fuck—fuck off.”

“So. What’s my pretty husband gonna do, hm? I can feel you clenching me. So fucking close right, malysh?”

Shane lets out a high keen. And Rose is openly panting now, desperately close to imploding.

“Can you be quiet? Or is it just—fuck—too fucking good?”

“Too fucking good, Ilya. Please—I—I can’t…fuck. Don’t wanna be quiet—”

“Fuck, Shane.” More thuds. “My perfect. Dirty. Husband.”

“Oh god, Ilya. I’m—” And then he comes, loudly. The loudest Rose has ever heard anyone come in her entire life. She has her other hand pressed tightly over her own mouth now, trying to drown out any sounds and she furiously and desperately rubs her clit. She’s so fucking close, too.

Not even a second later, she hears Ilya groan, “Fuck, Shane. I love you. Ya tebya lyublyu.” And with that, she tips right over the edge. Shaking and twitching with the force that her orgasm slams into her. It seems to last forever, her hand drops from her mouth and she lets out a long moan. She’s never come this hard in her life. What the fuck?

The other side of the wall has gone quiet. She is feeling too sleepy and satiated to feel too guilty yet. So quickly washing her hands and face, she tucks herself back into bed before immediately falling into the deepest sleep she’s had in weeks.

Rose is having a very good dream.

She’s sitting in the lap of some hot, faceless guy. He is strong, muscular but most importantly, he has a huge fucking cock and dream-Rose is riding him hard. Pushing him back against the sofa they’re on, hands scratching against his enormous chest. He’s biting and sucking down her neck and collarbone, while meeting her thrust for thrust. His hands are digging into her hips and pulling her roughly back onto him with every thrust. It’s fucking glorious.

Every thrust she can feel the heat pool heavier and heavier in her stomach. She’s practically yelling at the man to fuck her harder, faster, just more, more, more. When she finally opens her eyes, determined to latch onto this man’s face and swallow his tongue, she falters for a second when she sees something behind him.

Shane and Ilya. Leaning against the wall on the far side of the room. Just watching.

They are leaning into each other, whispering. She can’t help but notice the sizable bulges in their pants. She rides the man harder, tells him to pull her hair a little. Her eyes never straying from the two men across the room. Ilya makes eye contact with her, a smirk on his face, then drops to his knees. She can’t quite see, but she knows exactly when Ilya puts his mouth on Shane’s cock and holy fuck.

She’s so fucking close, can tell that the orgasm that is building is going to absolute destroy her. The cock inside her hits just right once, twice and she’s almost there—

Knock. Knock. Knock.

Her eyes fly open. She squints. The room is too bright, sun filtering in through the windows. Her legs are all tangled up in the blankets and she’s so hot and sweaty. Her heart is racing and she’s breathing hard.

It takes a second for the dream to slam back into her and she almost whines. It would have been a waste to come in her sleep, but fuck that was so hot. Why did she have to wake up? She does her best to kick the sheets away from her legs, desperate to cool her body down.

Knock. Knock. Knock.

She glares. So that’s what woke her up. The heat between her legs is unbearable, her breasts literally ache, nipples so hard. Of course she has to listen to her hot friend and his hot husband have hot fucking sex every night, but then they cockblock her in her own fucking dreams.

Knock. “Rose? Can I come in?” Shane’s voice seeps through the door.

She clears her throat, “Sure.” God, even her voice sounds wrecked. For one second she panics thinking she was moaning and wailing about dick in her sleep. Maybe that’s why Shane is here.

“Hey,” Shane says as he peeks his head in. He takes in her current state of appearance and apparently finds something alarming. “Oh my god, are you ok?” He’s stepping into the room now, dropping to the floor next to her bed. “It’s almost 11:00 am. You never sleep this late, are you feeling sick?” He’s reaching for Rose’s face now, and she’s not sure what to do.

She can barely make eye contact with him remembering all the things she overheard last night. Remembering what she did last night. And also all the things she dreamt about last night. She feels her face flush as she struggles to push herself up into a seating position.

“Woah. Easy, Rose.” Shane grabs her arm and gently helps her sit up, legs dangling from the end of the bed. The cool air on her legs feels glorious. “You’re sweaty and flushed. I should take your temperature. You could have a fever. Fuck, I’ll go call the doctor, too.” He starts to pull his phone out of his pocket before calling out, “Ilya! Come sit with Rose, and bring water. I need to call the doctor.”

“Wait, Shane. I’m—” Rose tries to back pedal the situation. She’s definitely not sick, just maybe sick in a perverted way because every time she closes her eyes now she’s visualising Ilya sucking Shane off.

But then Ilya flies into the room, practically colliding with Shane, eyes wide.

“What is it? Is baby time?” He looks over at Rose, face hopeful and excited. Shane already has his phone to his ear, she can hear it ringing.

“Guys, I’m—”

“Ilya, I said to bring up water for her. And get the thermometer from our bathroom. I think Rose is getting sick.”

Ilya looks over at Rose, eyebrows raising as he takes in her disheveled appearance. Shane starts to leave a message with the on-call nurse and she feels like screaming. So, that’s what she does.

“Ugh!” She screeches. “I’m not sick! I’m fine!” She slides out of bed. Both men are staring at her, mouths open in shock. “I’m just hugely pregnant. Hormonal. Tired. Hungry. Uncomfortable. Just—just leave me alone right now, please.” She can barely look at them. Embarrassed over her little outburst on top of everything else she was already embarrassed about.

She stomps right past them and slams the bathroom door shut, locks it for good measure. Great job, Landry, she thinks, way to make it one thousand times worse.

Her bladder is near bursting again. After relieving her poor bladder, while washing her hands, she finally gets a glimpse of herself in the mirror. And ok, she guesses she understands why the boys were worried. She’s a hot mess. Hair everywhere, clearly she was tossing and turning all night. Her skin is flushed and clammy, even her pajama top is clingy lightly to her chest, damp with sweat.

Frustrated, she peels everything off and hops into the shower. Hoping the water can get hot enough to wash away her shame. The thing is, she can’t even bring herself to feel that bad about it. Like, ok yes, she absolutely should not have been getting off to the sounds of her friends fucking. But, counterpoint, she is carrying a baby for them. Literally helping them create life. And that baby is making her body do unusual things. Like having insane sex dreams apparently, wow. Who knew she had such an imagination?

She sighs deeply, letting the water soothe her aching back while rinsing shampoo from her hair.

It doesn’t have to be awkward. She can just go downstairs, apologize and pretend everything is fine. She doesn’t have to mention that she heard them (again), or that she may have touched herself about it. It should only be a few more days before the baby makes their arrival anyway. She can totally be cool, calm, and collected. She’s an actor after all, she’s totally got this.

It’s nearly one in the afternoon by the time Rose manages to bring herself downstairs to face Ilya and Shane. She feels more herself after the shower. And ok, maybe it’s mostly because she took the edge off by getting herself off to thoughts of her dream, but whatever.

She’s slowly making her way down the stairs, listening for any clue as to where they might be. Her stomach loudly grumbles, angry at the fact that it’s been over twelve hours since she’s eaten. Something smells faintly like bacon. Maybe they made some for breakfast and she can scrounge the fridge for leftovers because bacon sounds like the best idea right now.

Entering the kitchen, she immediately stumbles to a stop. Are these two fucking glued together, what the fuck? Ilya is bracketing Shane’s body from behind as Shane diligently washes dishes. It’s so domestic, she wants to slowly back away from the room and let them be cute together. Except, it’s them, so it’s never just something cute and domestic.

Upon a further glance, Ilya is whispering into Shane’s ear and kissing Shane's neck. His hands are under Shane’s shirt doing something and Shane—well, Shane has been washing the same dish for the last three minutes that Rose has been standing here. The last straw is when she notices Ilya slowly circle his hips against Shane’s ass.

She’s fucking had it. “Oh my god! Seriously you guys!” She yells.

It’s funny how fast they jump apart. Ilya bumps his hip into the opposite counter while Shane sends soap bubbles everywhere with how fast he drops the dish into the sink and flings himself around.

“R-Rose! We didn’t hear you come down.” Shane gasps, his face red and the front of his body absolutely drenched from the sink. Ilya is looking too smug. She narrows her eyes at him, folding her arms atop her enormous pregnant belly.

Sighing, she says, “Well, obviously. It’s not enough I hear you guys all night, I have to see it during the day now, too? When I’m so fucking hungry. I haven’t eaten since dinner yesterday.” She makes her way to the fridge, poking through all Shane’s neatly labeled tupperware.

The men are whispering frantically to each other. She rolls her eyes, pulling out a jar of almond butter from the fridge. When she turns around they’re standing side by side directly opposite of her. Two sets of eyes assessing her, weird. Pulling a spoon from the drawer, she digs into the almond butter. Sighing happily around the spoon.

“So,” Shane drags out.

“You’ve been listening to us fuck.” Ilya finishes.

Shane elbows him and says, “Ilya!”

Then she realizes what she had just said. Well, there goes pretending everything is fine. Her mouth is sticky with almond butter, but she still sounds offended when she says, “Um, no. More like you’ve been fucking in places where I can hear you. There’s a difference. I can’t get away from it!”

She rubs her belly, fuck she needs to eat real food. “Look, can we please table this for now? I’m starving.”

That seems to jolt them out of whatever they were thinking.

“We made lunch. BLTs, ok?” Shane says as he pulls a covered tray of bacon out of the fridge. Ilya was already pulling out plates and condiments.

“Yes, but—”

“But you want extra bacon, no tomato, add avocado, on sourdough with extra mayo?” Ilya asks, looking way too proud of himself.

Yes. Yes, that’s exactly what she wants. She could almost cry.

“Don’t forget my chips either.”

Ilya replies by holding up a giant bag of salt and vinegar chips. “Already done.” He says.

“And I’m not sharing.”

They both laugh. “Yes, Rose. We know.”

She really does love these boys. Even if the combo of them and her pregnancy hormones are wreaking havoc on her mental state. She smiles, “Good. Thank you.”

“We thought we could eat outside. Why don’t you go sit on the patio and we’ll bring everything out?” Shane says, as he hands her a glass of cold ginger ale. She nods and starts her slow shuffle to the backyard.

Anya is already outside and comes sprinting to greet Rose.

“Hi, pretty girl.” Rose says, reaching out to scratch behind her ears. “Your Dads can’t keep their hands to themselves.” Anya tilts her head, tongue flopping out of her mouth almost like she’s saying Girl, tell me about it.

Once she’s seated, with her feet propped up on the chair next to her, Anya is right back in her space. Nuzzling her cute, wet nose into the side of her hip. Any chance she gets, Anya loves to cuddle with the baby bump. She’s going to be a great big sister.

At the sound of the back door sliding open, Anya immediately abandons her to go greet her Dads, Ilya cooing at her in Russian the entire time. He drops an enormous plate in front of Rose with her sandwich, lots of chips, and two pickles before lifting up her feet and plopping down in the chair next to her. Before she can protest, he brings her feet to rest on his thighs, rubbing her ankles before he digs into his own lunch.

Shane sits across from her and reaches out with a small, plastic cup with pills. “Here, before you forget.”

She takes it. Ugh, prenatal vitamins. “Ew, but thanks.”

They eat in relative silence for a while. Rose can feel her irritation fizzling away with every bite of her sandwich. The baby is clearly enjoying the meal, too, as they start a little dance party against her ribs. It brings a smile to her face every time even though it’s so fucking uncomfortable. She makes a weird half smile, half grimace as one particular kick makes her wince.

Ilya, who finished his lunch in approximately three bites, is now rubbing her aching feet and feels her tense. “What is it? What’s wrong? Am I hurting you?” He’s so cute with how concerned he is.

“No, just a foot in my rib cage. Little one is having a party in here.” She reaches for his hand and pulls it to rest on the giant swell of her belly. Seconds later they’re rewarded with several quick bumps against his large palm. Ilya practically melts, cradling her stomach with both hands now.

“Shane. Shane, lyubimyy. Come here.” Ilya whispers in awe. It’s not the first time he’s felt the baby move, but every time he reacts like it’s singularly the most amazing thing that’s ever happened to him.

Now there are four hands and one wet nose touching her bump. Shane and Ilya are whispering softly to each other and to the baby, and looking at each other with so much love in their eyes. Her vision is immediately blurry with tears. Between their schedules and her own schedule, they haven’t spent much time together throughout the pregnancy. Only getting updates from her appointments and mostly texted images of the sonograms.

The past few weeks have been a gift, really, to see how excited they are. How ready both of them are to welcome a new little human into their family.

Her eyes are burning with tears, her throat tight trying to keep a sob from escaping because she doesn’t want to disrupt or intrude on this heartwarming scene.

She hiccups.

The sound breaks the moment as well as her hold on her tears. She’s full blown sobbing now. Hands covering her face as tears pour down her cheeks, hiccuping as she’s gasping for breath. The hands on her belly withdraw, but Anya’s wet nose seems to press deeper into her hip, almost with concern.

“I’m sorry.” She hiccups. “I’m so sorry. I can’t—I can’t stop crying.”

Shane bends over to give her a hug while Ilya sits back down and goes back to gently rubbing her feet. “You guys are just so—hiccup—so fucking cute. And so—so in love and I’m so happy you’re having this baby, and I get to be a part of it—” She cuts off with another sob, still digging her hands into her eyes.

She takes a deep breath as she finally calms down, tears slowly stopping. Shane is still wrapped around her, gently rubbing her arms.

“Ugh, I’m sorry I’m making everything weird. It’s the hormones.”

Shane gives her a kiss to the top of the head before sitting back down. “You’re not making it weird, Rose. This is a big thing you’re doing for us. Sacrificing your body, your time. You’re incredible.”

“Yes, what Shane said.” Ilya pipes in, still blessedly digging into the arches of her feet. “So,” he tilts his head from side to side, a little smirk on his face, “maybe we can forgive you for listening to us fuck all the time.” That little shit.

She breathes out a surprised laugh. Sitting up a little straighter as she points her finger back and forth between the both of them. “Oh, no. No. You’re not pinning this on me.” She points to her belly. “This little one wakes me up all through the night. It is absolutely not my fault if I can hear you both going at it all night from my room.”

Shane’s face is bright red, but of course Ilya looks shamelessly proud. He gives a little shrug, “My Shane is nervous about being a Dad. He is also up during the night reading parenting books and googling things like ‘best pediatricians in Ottawa’ or making spreadsheets with the best routes to the hospital depending on the date and time you go into labor. So,” He smiles wide. “I do what I need to do to help him fucking relax. Right, Hollander?”

“Ilya.” Shane scolds, face still flushed with embarrassment. “We’re sorry you had to hear that, Rose. We’ll be more conscientious from now on.” Rose notices that he’s not exactly promising to stop. She can’t even get mad because if someone was railing her like that every night she wouldn’t be able to stop either.

“Oh, um. Thanks.” She feels herself flush a little bit and immediately looks away from them both. Still remembering all the things she overheard.

Next to her, Ilya’s hands pause on her feet as he hums. She briefly looks up and has to immediately look away because he is assessing her. He’s way, way too good at reading people and right now she feels like she has a big flashing sign above her head that says: I made myself come last night while listening to my gay, ex-boyfriend and his husband fuck.

“Hm, I think you liked it.” He says slowly.

Her mouth literally drops open, face flushing deep red. She feels hot all over.

“Ilya, stop being an asshole.” Shane starts to scold his husband but then he turns to look at Rose and says, “Oh.” He blinks a few times. Wow, she must be so fucking obvious if Shane is picking up on whatever Ilya sensed as well.

“Oh my god.” Rose says, burying her face into her hands. If they can be so shameless, then she can do that, too. “Ok, fine. Fine.” She says, sitting back up and looking between the two of them.

“It was fucking hot, ok? Like insanely hot. I’ve never heard anything like that before.”

Ilya practically beams. Shane looks like he’s trying not to smile. God, he loves being the best at something.

“Ugh. I hate you both.” She whines, pulling her feet away from Ilya’s lap. She gestures at her large belly with her hands. “I haven’t had sex in forever and my hormones have me fucking dying. I’m sorry I’m such a pervert.” Ilya laughs and Rose feels lighter, her embarrassment still there but slowly fading.

Shane is quiet, though. When she finally looks over at him, she can’t quite read the expression on his face. Ilya, though, must see something.

“Malysh.” He practically purrs. And even though it’s not directed at her, Rose doesn’t miss how her body erupts in goosebumps.

Shane startles out of his thoughts. He looks at Ilya for a long time, then looks over at Rose, he swallows. “So you, like, got off on listening to us?”

Rose stomach drops. She immediately feels like she’s going to throw up. Oh, god. He hates her. She’s going to lose one of her best friends because she was a horny pervert. She’s on the verge of tears.

“Oh my god. Shane, no.” She starts frantically apologizing. “No, I’m so sorry. I swear I didn’t—” Except, she did, didn’t she? “I mean. I didn’t mean to really. I was in the bathroom last night and then I heard you guys and—and I just couldn’t help it. I’m so, so sorry. Please don’t hate me. I swear I’ll never do it again.” If she wasn’t one hundred weeks pregnant, she’d probably be groveling on the floor at Shane’s feet. Then again, if she wasn’t pregnant, they most certainly would not be in the situation to begin with.

“Relax, Landry. He’s not mad.” Ilya’s eyes gleam dangerously, locked onto Shane. “He’s turned on. You like the idea of showing off, yes?” He spoke that last question to Shane, who can only nod, eyes never leaving Ilya’s.

“See? We’re all perverts here.” Ilya says, a little too casually.

Oh. Oh.

Looking at Shane now, she can see it. His skin flushed not in embarrassment but with heat and his eyes darker. Her horned-up body can’t help but think: fuck, that’s hot.

She relaxes a little, “So, you don’t hate me?”

That seems to break the tension. Shane and Ilya stop eye fucking each other to look back at her, their expressions softening into something gentle.

“No, oh my god. Of course not, Rose.” Shane says. “I can’t begin to imagine the changes that are happening to your body. And you’re doing it for us, I’d never, ever be able to hate you.”

“Yes, what Shane said.” Ilya says, again, but he adds, “We love you. But also, don’t get any ideas. Shane is still mine.”

She scoffs. “Oh, fuck you.”

They all laugh, tension dissipating.

“Ugh, I cannot wait to get this baby out and be a normal person again.” She says, rubbing her belly. She tries to stand up and immediately plops back down. “And to also be able to get up from furniture without help.” Ilya helps her up, all of them heading inside.

“Oh! I was reading about this thing called the Miles Circuit last night.” Shane says, bringing all their lunch dishes into the kitchen. “It’s a 90-minute circuit with a sequence of positions to help get the baby in the best position for labor. Do you want to try it?”

Rose had just plopped onto their massive couch with the intent of staying there for most of the day. No, she definitely did not want to do that. Anya immediately joins her, cuddling into her side.

“Or we can go try some curb walking. I read that it can help get the baby to drop and encourage labor. My Mom also sent herself into early labor with me by gardening all morning. I know we don’t have a garden but we could go out back and figure something out.” He continues to offer suggestions, loading the dishwasher and coming back over to where her, Ilya and Anya are all sprawled out on the couch.

“Shane.” She says.

“Yes?”

“Please shut up.”

Ilya bursts out laughing.

“I’m desperate but I’m not that desperate that I’m gonna crawl around your backyard and what, pick up sticks? I want to lay on the couch while someone hand feeds me grapes. Oh, and skittles. Wait, do you have any more of those dark chocolate pretzels?”

Ilya lovingly grabs her knee and gives it a squeeze. “I’ll go get more.”

She beams, “Thank you!”

They end up having a pretty normal afternoon after that. And by some miracle, it’s the first night she doesn’t wake up hearing insane sex noises. She’s relieved, even if some part of her deep, deep down kind of misses it.

It lasts three nights.

Three nights where Rose is woken up several times by her bladder or the squiggly little baby in her belly and hears nothing but silence. Thank fucking god.

She’s not sure if they are abstaining or just doing their absolute best to keep the volume down. If only she could stop thinking about it. Her horny little brain, especially when she’s asleep, is only too happy to supply the memories of their noises. The sight of Ilya pressing against Shane, or that moment outside when they were practically devouring each other with their eyes.

Her dreams have been fucking insane. It makes the dream she had almost four nights ago seem like nothing. All of her dreams have been different variations of stumbling upon Shane and Ilya fucking somewhere and it’s been some of the hottest stuff her brain has ever come up with. Like, wow. Maybe she missed her calling as a romance writer or writing scripts for porn videos.

Her dream tonight was different, though. In this dream she was Shane. Shane with her huge pregnant belly. Sitting on Ilya’s cock while he slowly fucked up into her, well, into Shane and the whole time he was telling him how perfect he looked growing with their child. How hot it was to see his belly so swollen and heavy, and that he couldn’t wait to get him pregnant again and again and again. So she guesses she has a bit of breeding kink now. That’s new.

Swinging her legs out of bed, she walks slowly to the bathroom. There’s silence coming from the other wall. So she quickly relieves herself and tries to get right back to bed. Sleep eludes her, though. She doesn’t know how long she lays awake trying not to think about the dream she just woke up from or how incredibly wet she was. Eventually she gives up, making her way downstairs to get a cup of tea and a snack.

Maybe if she wasn’t so tired or maybe if her brain wasn’t thinking about all the moaning in her dreams, she would have noticed the actual moaning coming from the direction of the kitchen area. Unfortunately for Rose, though, her brain doesn’t register the sounds until she’s standing right in front of it.

They’re hard to make out at first, her eyes adjusting to the darkness. The only light coming into the room was from the moon and the glow of Shane’s laptop screen. But holy fucking shit.

Shane is laid flat out on their dining table, completely naked with Ilya between his legs. One of those legs is thrown over Ilya’s shoulder, both of his arms pulling Shane’s hips even closer to him as he swallows Shane’s cock whole. Rose’s mouth drops wide open as she watches Ilya’s nose meet the small patch of Shane’s pubic hair. Shane’s hands are fisting in Ilya’s curls as his hips thrust up and he lets out a long, low moan.

She’s hypnotized.

Her eyes locked onto Ilya’s lips wrapped around his husband’s cock. She’s not supposed to be seeing this. She’s definitely not supposed to be liking it. Even as she’s trying to unfreeze her feet and walk away, she can feel her nipples hardening. Rubbing her legs together in a sad, desperate attempt to soothe the throbbing ache between them. She lets out a whimper.

Oh, fuck.

Everyone freezes.

Ilya looks up, the light from the laptop making his eyes look bright and wild as he immediately holds eye contact with her—with Shane’s cock still in his mouth. And wow, he even manages to smirk with his mouth full. His eyes are sparkling, like he’s enjoying this. Shane hasn’t moved, one arm thrown over his eyes, his chest rapidly rising with his fast breathing.

It’s not until Ilya starts to slide his mouth off of Shane (while still looking at her!) that she manages to avert her gaze. Looking down at her bare feet, she starts back out of the room. She can hear them both moving around now, the rustle of fabric and clothes being put back on.

“I’m so sorry.” She manages to squeak out, backpedaling the fuck out of there. She collides hard with the wall behind her. Covering her eyes with her hand, she tries to feel her way out of the room with the other. “I’m so, so sorry. I’ll just—I’m gonna go.” The wall feels never ending, she just needs to make it back to the stairs and waddle her way back up and she can hide forever trying to ignore the throbbing between her legs.

“Wait, um—” Shane starts to say, “You can…stay, if you want.”

She stops. Turning around she slowly peeks between her fingers. They are both covered now. Ilya half dressed in shorts and no shirt. Shane only managed to put his boxer briefs back on.

“What?” Rose asks in disbelief. She is looking back and forth between the both of them, trying to understand what is happening.

It’s hard to tell in this light, but Shane’s blush deepens. She can mostly tell in the way that his eyes start to flutter quickly and he starts to focus on a spot right beside her face and not actually looking at her. “You could watch,” he swallows, then slowly looks back at her. “If you want.” He repeats that line again and it’s jumping around in her brain. If she wants? She’s never wanted anything more in her entire life.

Ilya walks up behind Shane, pulls him back against his chest. One of his arms wraps around Shane to grab at his hip, giving it a small squeeze. Rose can’t help but drink in the sight of them. The hard line of Shane’s dick is still visible in his black briefs. Shane looks drunk on lust. His head has fallen back to rest against Ilya’s shoulder, and he’s watching her with half-lidded eyes as his husband is kissing down his neck.

“What my husband has forgotten to mention,” He says slowly, almost whispering the words against Shane’s neck, “is that he wants you to watch.” Another pause then he adds, “We want you to watch.” He finally looks at Rose then, one eyebrow raised in question.

“What?” It seems all other words have left her brain because seriously, what. the. fuck? They can’t be serious. The horny part of her wants to crawl across the floor and beg them to tape her eyes open so she doesn’t miss one single second, but the smaller, more logical part of her is unsure.

Ilya gives a small shrug. “Turns out my Shanya is ah—what is word—person that is excited being watched…?”

“Exhibitionist.” Shane pipes in, his voice low and quiet.

“Da, yes. That.” Ilya bites his shoulder. “My pretty little exhibitionist, has not stopped thinking about you overhearing us.” He smirks against Shane’s skin. “It has been…hot. So hard to keep quiet the last few days, too.”

Oh my god. Rose feels like her body is on fire. She has to be dreaming, right?

“Seems like…fate, yes? That you stumbled in on us tonight.”

Hm, Rose isn’t sure if she’d call it fate. More like inevitable with the how much the two of them fuck, but whatever. She swallows, mouth dry, still just staring at them.

“So, you can stay, but hands to yourself. Looking only, Landry. I do not share.”

She laughs. Maybe it’s the nerves but she literally throws her head back and laughs and laughs. The thought of Ilya still being jealous of her and Shane is hilarious. Because this Shane standing in front of her, this Shane that she has seen and heard for the past two weeks is leagues away from the timid Shane Hollander she briefly dated in 2016.

“Sorry,” She tries to get her giggles under control. “Sorry. I just—it’s so funny remembering Shane and I used to date. And now having audio and visual confirmation of just how much I wasn’t doing it for him.” She holds up both hands. “No touching, I promise.”

Shane looks slightly more lucid now. “So, you’ll stay?” He asks softly.

She nods. God, this pregnancy has made her certifiably insane.

Shane inhales sharply, dropping his head further into Ilya’s shoulder. His husband, however, looks way, way too pleased. She watches as his licks straight up the side of Shane’s neck before nibbling his ear lobe into his mouth. Oh, wow.

“Verbal confirmation, Rose.” Ilya whispers.

“Yes, please.” She can’t believe she’s doing this. Watching Ilya stick his tongue into Shane’s ear feels like a religious experience.

It feels like it happens in the span of a blink. One moment they’re standing in their dining area discussing this insane, but hot idea and the next she’s settled into one end of their large couch while Ilya sits on the other end, pulling Shane into his lap. Between her legs is absolutely throbbing, but she feels like the second she touches herself she’ll come on the spot.

Ilya is leaning far back on the couch, Shane’s back resting against his expansive chest so they are both facing her, watching her. It’s both invigorating and too much because she feels their eyes everywhere.

Shane’s eyes keep stopping on the swell of her belly, his eyes dark and halfway gone. The moonlight streaming through the windows is brighter here, letting her see the redness of his flushed skin as Ilya lightly slides his hand down Shane’s side to slowly stroke him over the fabric of his briefs. Wow.

Nipping at Shane’s neck again, Ilya says, “Look at her, Shane. Look at her belly. You wish that was you, yes?”

Shane whimpers, but his eyes stay on her pregnant belly. Rose’s mouth drops open because oh my god.

“Show him, Rose. Please.”

It takes her a second to understand what Ilya is asking, but the second her brain processes it she’s sliding her shirt up to expose her bump. The cool air against her skin is such a contrast to how scorching hot she feels everywhere else.

“Fuck.” Ilya says, trailing his hand from Shane’s cock to settle on his smooth, flat stomach. “Do you wish that was you, malysh?”

Shane whimpers, nodding.

“Are you jealous?”

Rose watches in absolute amazement as Shane closes his eyes and practically whines saying, “Ilya, fuck.”

“Tell us, Shanya.”

“Fuck. Yes, I’m jealous. Wish it was me. Please, just touch me—fuck me.”

“Ah, but we don’t want the show over too fast, right?

“I don’t—fuck—I don’t care. Need you.”

“What do you need?”

“Need you to fuck a baby in me.”

Rose and Ilya both moan at that, Ilya breathing out, “You’re gonna kill me, Hollander.”

How is she ever going to have sex again? It might not ever compare to what she’s feeling right now. To see the compatibility between Shane and Ilya, just how dynamic and perfect they are together.

Ilya practically rips Shane’s underwear off, pulling a bottle of lube from between the couch cushions. He pours a generous amount on his fingers and then Rose watches as his hand slides behind Shane, must press against or inside him because he slumps forward pushing his hips further back into Ilya. And Rose just watches. Her eyes burning with the need to blink but wow, wow, wow.

Ilya is speaking to Shane in Russian and Shane is understanding because he’s nodding and whimpering and panting, and Rose is dying. More turned on than she’s been in her entire life.

“Fuck, Shane. I’d keep you pregnant all the time if I could.”

Why is that so fucking hot? She can’t take it anymore and starts to slide her fingers under the waistband of her underwear before sliding them through her wetness. It’s obscene, really, how fucking wet she is and it only increases as she watches Shane start to fuck himself on Ilya’s fingers.

Her eyes don’t know where to look. At Shane’s blissed out face, eyes wet and gone and desperate. At the way that Ilya is watching, enthralled, at the way Shane’s hips and ass bounce back against him, like it’s the only thing worth living for. Or, the way Shane’s huge, hard cock is bouncing back against his stomach with every movement of his hips. It’s red and leaking pre-cum and Rose is hit with the thought that that cock has been in her mouth and inside her and never, ever looked like that.

She’s so hypnotized by the movement of his cock that she doesn’t even notice Ilya ridding himself of his own shorts or that he’d started to press his cock inside of Shane until he pulls Shane back roughly against him, sliding inside in one thrust. It’s only when Shane’s ass is fully seated in Ilya’s lap and they pause, moaning loudly that she takes in the whole scene.

They are so fucking beautiful. Both their skin is pink and dewy with sweat. Wherever possible, their bodies are completely flush together. Shane’s back pressed into Ilya’s chest, his ass fit into the space of Ilya’s lap like it was a missing puzzle piece. When her gaze travels up their torsos and finally lands on their faces—oh. They were both locked onto her. It felt like the fire between her legs was rapidly engulfing her entire body.

Shane looks proud, almost a small smirk on his face. Ilya, however, looks dangerous. His eyes gleaming at her over Shane’s shoulder, his mouth pulling into his own smirk as he mouths the word mine at her before sinking his teeth into the meat of Shane’s shoulder as he rolls his hips.

It’s hard to tell who gasps louder, her or Shane. Probably Shane, but both Ilya and Shane seem to appreciate her reaction. Ilya continues to roll his hips, hands digging into Shane’s hips to keep him still.

“Tell him, Rose.”

Rose blinks. Her mind is so sluggishly slow and drunk on lust. It’s not until Ilya repeats himself again that she realizes he’s speaking to her. Licking her lips, she looks up at him and waits for him to elaborate because her brain has already forgotten what he said. Still thinking about the shape his lips made as he mouthed mine, mine, mine.

“Tell him how good he looks.”

Oh. Oh.

She swallows, looks at Shane. He’s practically shaking, his want and need vibrating across the surface of his skin. Her mouth is so dry, and she feels like she has one million things she wants to say and also like she’s forgotten every word in the English language. And to be honest, she’s never been great with dirty talk. Feeling stupid and too self conscious to really vocalize her internal thoughts, but this is different. Right?

“So—fuck—so good Shane. Like you’re right where you belong.” The words tumble out of her and she watches in slow motion as they travel across the couch for the boys to hear. A satisfying smile pulls across Ilya’s face as Shane whines, head dropping further into Ilya’s shoulder.

Ilya hums. “Is she right, malysh? Is this where you belong?” He punctuates that last word with two quick thrusts. Shane just nods.

“Seeing you like this, both of you—together.” She continues, breathing heavy. “It’s—fuck—so perfect. It’s beautiful.”

“Please, Ilya.” Shane finally speaks. His voice is so quiet and raspy. “Need you to move.”

Rose watches, eyes wide, as Ilya relaxes his grip on Shane’s hips. He doesn’t even have a chance to move before Shane is taking full advantage, bouncing his ass back hard into Ilya and it might be the sexiest thing that Rose has ever seen in her life. The way that Shane is moving and the way that Ilya is scrambling to fucking hold on, he looks like he is seconds away from imploding. They’re both a moaning, panting, whimpering mess.

“Shane—fuck—Shanya, please. Fuck. Too good.”

Shane moans with the praise, falling to his forearms, face buried into the couch as he still fucks himself back into Ilya. Rose is practically drooling. God help her when she’s no longer pregnant and is free to fuck whomever she pleases because wow. She’s fucking inspired. She can’t help but send a little prayer to please please pretty please let the next man she sleeps with not be gay.

She’s just starting to press lazy circles into her clit when Ilya presses forward, his hands pressing hard onto Shane’s back, pushing him even deeper into the surface of the couch. She literally feels like she’s on fire with the need to come.

Their fucking has slowed to deep rolls of their hips. Ilya literally bent in half so he can whisper to Shane in Russian. Shane is frantically nodding his head and there’s no better word for it—whining.

Her fingers have barely any traction, she’s so fucking wet. The movement of her fingers is so desperate and messy and uncoordinated, she can barely focus as she watches Ilya sit back on his heels, pulling Shane with him, one arm strong across his chest so they are once again nestled together. Shane’s back to Ilya’s chest. Shane’s head lolls back onto Ilya’s shoulder and he looks fucking gone.

His eyes are half lidded and darker than she’s ever seen. His face flushed and bright and sweaty. “Ilya, please. Need to come.”

“Hm,” Ilya purrs. “What do you think, Rose Landry? Should we let our Shane come yet.”

He’s looking at her over Shane’s shoulder while slowly fucking into him and her mind goes blank. She’s licking her lips, furiously rubbing her clit as her eyes bounce all over the two men in front of her.

It’s not until Shane speaks, his voice desperate and quiet and full of want, that she processes what Ilya was asking of her. “Rose, please. Please let him make me come.”

She nods, saying, “Fuck, yes. Yes, please. I want to see it.”

Ilya starts to pick up the pace of his thrusts, biting and sucking at the skin and muscle of Shane’s shoulder. Rose can already see the hickeys and bruises blossoming over Shane’s skin.

“Fuck.” Shane moans. “Fuck, I’m so close.”

“Watch her, Shane. Look at her and show her how hard I make you come.”

Oh my god. Oh my god. The heat pooling in her belly right now is unreal. It feels like her jaw has permanently unhinged as it drops open once again and she moans, pressing her fingers even harder into the aching, wet mess between her thighs.

They’re both moving frantically now, rhythm failing as they are both working towards their pleasure. Shane is shaking as Ilya is desperately trying to grab and hold on to every part of Shane at the same time.

“Fuck, Shane. I can feel you clenching, fucking come now. Then I’m going to come fucking all over you.”

Rose watches as Shane’s eyes widen and he says, “No, fuck. Inside me. Need you to put a baby in me.” Shane’s eyes are locked onto her belly again.

“Fuuuck.” Ilya groans, his hips moving even faster, “Fuck, yes. You’d be—so fucking—hot—pregnant—”, each word punctuated with a hard thrust and from there it delvolves into a symphony of grunts and groans and whimpers and fucking slapping of skin against skin. They’re both looking at her, focusing on the swell of her stomach, as they lose themselves in each other's bodies, and Rose can no longer stave off her impending orgasm.

She hurtles over the edge, her body spasming and clenching so hard around nothing, but it feels so fucking good. She tries to keep her eyes open, her back arching as she keeps coming and coming and coming. The longest and hardest she’s ever come in her life.

Sinking back into the sofa, she blinks her eyes open just in time to see Shane come apart. She watches as Ilya fucks him through it, white ropes of come splashing straight up onto his chest and belly from the force of his orgasm. His eyes are open and glassy and he’s whispering words like, fuck and I love you and So good and Ilya Ilya Ilya and thank you.

Wow. If she didn’t feel like all her limbs were replaced with overcooked spaghetti noodles she almost feels like she could come again from the sight of that alone.

Ilya tips over the edge immediately after, his head buried in the space between Shane’s neck and shoulder. Their bodies so impossibly close as he moans and praises Shane in Russian over and over and over again.

They finally slump back against the couch. All three of them out breath and panting. The room smelled like sweat and sex.

“Wow.” Shane says a moment later.

Rose can’t help it, she fucking giggles.

Ilya and Shane share a look for a moment before they smile and start giggling too.

“That was…” Rose can’t stop giggling. “Wow.”

“Yes, wow.” Ilya agrees.

She can’t stop smiling. Her body feels relaxed and happy and loose. It must be seconds later that she leans her head back, closes her eyes and promptly falls asleep.

She’s woken up by the disorienting feeling that she is floating. There’s an arm under her back and knees, and she’s pressed against a hard chest. Squinting her eyes open, she sees Ilya. Ilya is carrying her upstairs to bed.

“No, Ilya.” She croaks, “I can walk.”

He shushes her. “Let’s get you to bed. You’ll sleep better than on the couch.”

She grumbles a bit but doesn’t object. “Where is Shane?”

“All tucked into bed. Your turn now.” He smiles, slowly lowering her legs so her feet can find the floor. Her mind is still half asleep, but Ilya is standing in front of her looking like he is trying to find the words to say something. She immediately feels awkward, like maybe she has overstepped or frayed something between their friendship. She’s used to having a Shane Hollander buffer between her and Ilya. Not that they aren’t friends or don’t get along, she’s just realizing she’s rarely experienced Ilya Rozanov without Shane by his side.

Reaching a hand up to rub the back of his neck, he clears his throat, gaze falling to the floor between their feet. “Um, I just wanted to say thank you.”

She must look super confused because he takes a step closer, hand reaching towards her belly before pausing with a quick look for her permission. His hand settles gently on her bump. “Thank you for this. And also thank you for that.” His head tilts to the side on the second thank you, gesturing to what just happened downstairs.

“Oh, um. You’re welcome?” She can’t help the way her voice goes up at the end. Because what the fuck?

“So many people still don’t understand how or why we are together. It messes with Shane’s head sometimes.”

Oh. That’s so sad.

“The things you said about us belonging together. It meant a lot to Shane…” Ilya pauses for a moment, “...and to me.”

Before she can stop herself, she’s hugging him so tightly. It’s a bit awkward with the watermelon sized lump pressed between them, but she does her best.

“No, Ilya. You can thank me for helping you both grow your family, but please don’t thank me for, um, what happened downstairs. I love you both so much and seeing you together in any capacity, sexual or not, it’s so stupidly obvious how much you both belong with each other.” She gives him a little squeeze before pulling away. “Honestly, everyone is probably a little jealous. Fuck, I’m jealous. I’d kill to find someone who loved me like half as much as you both love each other.”

He smiles wetly.

“I’m sorry the rest of the world is full of idiots.” She says, sliding into her bed. Ilya is pulling the blankets over her as she settles into the soft pillows. Her eyelids feel so heavy, her brain is already drifting off to sleep but she keeps talking, her voice soft and slurred in her drowsiness. “I’m so happy for you both. That you have each other and that you’re gonna be Dads. Probably the best Dads ever.” She can’t keep her eyes open any longer, she doesn’t even know if Ilya is still in the room with her. “Love…you…both…”, the words leave her mouth slowly as she drifts off to sleep.

The last thing she hears is a whispered, “Thank you, Rose Landry.” before she is out like a light. Into a deep, dreamless sleep.

Rose wakes up to sunlight streaming through the windows. She feels so sleepy, comfy and just good. The first time she’s felt satiated in months. She stretches languidly, looking at her phone and seeing it’s past noon. Wow.

Last night’s detour downstairs certainly kept them all up late into the morning but she hasn’t slept this soundly or this late into the day in a while. Slowly pushing herself up, she swings her legs off the edge of the bed, taking a second to just breathe.

Her body feels so relaxed. She almost forgot she was pregnant for a moment. Gently rubbing a hand across her belly, she stands up. And, well, gravity does what gravity does. She immediately feels the pressure of her belly settle deep into her hips and pelvis. Huh.

The pressure feels lower and heavier this morning. That’s interesting. Taking one step towards the bathroom she feels the pressure shift just slightly, feels a small pop and then she’s peeing. Oh my god, she’s peeing herself. But wait, she has no control over this so it can only be—“Oh my god.” She whispers to herself. “Oh my god. Oh my god!” Standing there frozen, her pants completely soaked through as liquid continues to trickle out of her. Holy fuck, ok.

“Shane! Ilya!” She yells. They had several plans for when labor started, but funnily enough not one of them included what to do if her water burst fucking everywhere. She’s excited. She’s nervous. She kind of feels like crying because she’s making a huge mess.

Her back starts to tighten and she can feel the tightness grow and travel across her midsection, belly hardening. Oof, that’s uncomfortable. She still can’t hear anything from the boys.

“Guys! Shane! Ilya!” She yells out again.

She hears a heavy thud downstairs and two thunderous sets of feet pounding up the stairs. The door flies open as they both fight to push through the door at the same time then freeze, eyes wide, when they see her.

“Um, I think it’s time?” She says, voice shaky.

They’re looking at the puddle of water at her feet and she watches as their eyes travel up her body until finally landing on her face almost in unison. Now she really feels like crying because their eyes are so open and so full of love and excitement.

“Baby time?” Ilya says so softly, she can only just make out his words.

She nods, eyes watering.

Shane reaches out, squeezing Ilya’s hand before walking over to Rose. He cradles her face in his hands, thumbs rubbing gently along her cheek. “Thank you, Rose. Fuck. I love you so much. You’re incredible.” He says and he pulls her into a hug, cradling her head gently into his chest. They are both crying. She feels Ilya step up behind her and reach out to hug them both, then he pulls back suddenly with a gasp.

“Shane, our hospital bags. We need to pack. Rose, too.” He starts to pace, pulling out his phone. “I’ll call Yuna and David so someone can come grab Anya.” He looks back up at Shane and Rose, complete panic on his face. “The carseat. I never took it for inspection. We need to make sure it’s safe.” He’s halfway out of the room before he turns back, “Oh, no. Shane.” He whines. “My flu shot. They said it takes two weeks for efficiency. It’s only been twelve days.” His eyes close as he brings his hands through his hair. “What if I get sick and make the baby sick?”

He finally takes a breath. Rose and Shane share a look before they both burst out laughing.

Ilya can only stare at them, mouth open, offended. Every time Rose tries to speak, she just starts laughing even harder and from the looks of it, Shane is the same way. Ilya folds his arms across his chest and says, “Yes, yes. I’m glad this is so entertaining for you.”

Shane walks over to him, kisses him on the lips gently before resting their foreheads together.
“Relax, Ilya. I’ve had our bags, and Rose’s, packed for weeks now. I took the carseat for inspection last weekend. A quick text to my parents and they’ll come grab Anya right away. It’ll be ok, I promise.”

“But—the flu shot.”

Rose watches as Shane’s shoulders shake with laughter again and hears him say, “We’ll be ok, Ilya. Let’s go have a baby.”

“How are you so calm right now?”

“I really don’t know.” Shane says, “I think seeing you freak out made me realize that we’ve got everything under control.”

“Oh, you’re welcome.” Ilya says dryly, rolling his eyes. He rubs his hand against his sternum, “Fuck, is this how you feel all the time? My brain won’t shut up.”

Shane just smiles, turning back to reach for Rose. “Come on, let’s get you cleaned up. We’ll call the doctor and make our way to the hospital.”

Shane and Ilya are both shirtless, doing skin to skin with their beautiful baby boy.

And for the first time in like three weeks, Rose doesn’t feel like a rabid dog seeing their bare chests.

“Oh my god, you guys. The relief of not being pregnant anymore is the best feeling.” She sighs happily, flopping back into the pillows of her bed. She can’t wait to go home and lay on her stomach.

“Oh, so has the pervert been exorcised from your brain then?” Ilya laughs.

She rolls her eyes, but smiles and says, “I think so, mostly.”

“Do not worry. Once you are cleared for activities, we will help you find someone to finally get laid.” Ilya’s eyebrows wiggle suggestively.

She puffs out a laugh. Honestly after this year long celibacy, she is about to enter her Rose Landry Slut Era.

Knock, Knock.

All three of them look up as a woman steps into the room.

The most beautiful woman Rose has ever seen in her entire life.

She’s tall, hair a mess of reddish curls. When her eyes land on Shane, Ilya and the baby, her face breaks into the most devastating smile. Her light blue eyes sparkling with tears.

“Ilyusha. Shanya. Look at you.” She coos softly. Quietly walking over to them, she kisses them each on both cheeks before looking down at the baby. “Congrats, my loves.”

“Sveta,” Ilya whispers. “I did not know you were coming.”

“I was not going to miss seeing my new little nephew. He’s so perfect.”

Then the woman turns her full gaze on Rose, and Rose feels like she’s dreaming. Those bright eyes and her wide smile now assessing her. She wishes she wasn’t still wearing a hospital gown. Wishes she had gotten a chance to shower and wash her hair. Who knows what she even looks like, and she honestly did not care one bit until this literal goddess walked into their room.

“You must be Rose Landry, then. I have heard a lot about you.” She says with a smile, leaning in to kiss both of her cheeks, too. “You did a great job with the little one.” Her voice is gentle and warm. And, oh.

Rose’s heart stutters, feels her cheeks flush a little. Her tongue suddenly feels too big for her mouth and her brain is completely empty. Come on, Landry, fucking say something. You look like an idiot.

She swallows, tries to sit up a bit straighter. “Um, Hi.” Did her voice just fucking squeak?

“I’m Sveta. Ilya’s friend from Russia.” Somehow her smile gets wider. The light from the window behind her is making her glow like a literal angel and Rose’s belly is full of butterflies.

“Hi.” Rose says again, her eyes stuck on Sveta’s beautiful face. Her smiling lips and sparkling eyes. Her stomach does a series of flips. Maybe the horny part of her brain hasn’t been exorcised? Because Rose suddenly can’t stop thinking about kissing Sveta. About grabbing her curls and pulling her beautiful face forward so she can lick into her mouth and kiss down her neck and slide her hands up her shirt and maybe straddle her lap and—woah.

She blinks rapidly. Sveta has already turned back to Shane and Ilya. Shane was holding out the baby to her, slowly transferring him into Sveta’s arms. She coos, speaking softly in Russian, before walking to the other side of the room, settling into an armchair.

Rose can hear the three of them talking, but it sounds like they are miles away. Her eyes tracking every little movement Sveta makes, the way her lips move as she talks, the way she throws her head back as she laughs, exposing the long lines of her neck.

She swallows, reaching for her water and taking several large sips. What is happening?

Someone gently touches the back of her hand and she almost launches out of the bed in surprise. It’s so hard to look away from Sveta, but when she finally looks over and sees Ilya’s fingertips gently squeezing her wrist, she looks up at him and wishes the bed would just swallow her whole.

Because Ilya Rozanov is too fucking observant for his own good. And from the shit eating grin he is wearing, it’s clear that he is reading every single thing she is thinking and spiraling about right now. He quickly glances at Sveta, who is still talking to the baby, and back at Rose. Rose immediately blushes.

His smile widens, then he winks.

Oh, no.