Note: Hi hi! So glad to do the Fred Hechinger Fic Exchange! My match was @keeryhours. I hope you love it Sage <3 Thank you @punkrockmlchael for hosting the event
Prompt: Cara wants a mini but gets blessed
Warnings: Smut, Breeding kink/Creampies, Cussing, Calla wants a baby, Chubby reader (Cara loves his women thick I HC it), half-ass mating press since Cara knows Reader can't bend like that, Cara is a noisy man in bed, slight somno(?), L&D
Word count: 1835
By the time Caracalla retired to y'alls bedchambers, you were already naked in the plush silk bed, feathered pillows under your head as a thin sheet covered half of you. You had always been a restless sleeper, most likely pulling and tugging the sheet around till your upper body was shown. Caracalla swallowed at the end of the bed as he shed his own clothing, his cock already hardening as his eyes roamed your fuller curves and breasts. He cursed lightly, seeing how goosebumps rose along your skin and your nipples harden from the upcoming night air. The skies were painted purple, gold, and orange; your favorite time of the day. Your wide hips and rounded belly formed gentle swells under the thin silk sheet, a body Caracalla worshipped like a goddess incarnate. He kept to the foot of the bed, staring at you with dark eyes that bordered on dark hunger. "My love," he murmured, his voice rough with need as he climbed onto the bed. His hands, calloused from the grip of swords and scepters, reached for you tenderly. He pulled the sheet away, exposing your naked skin to the fading light. "Look at you... so perfect, so ripe. Every curve of yours drives me to the edge. I need you, all of you. I need to fill you, to make you mine in every way." His fingers sank into the softness of your thighs, spreading them apart as he positioned himself between your legs.
You felt the heat of his body against yours, "Mmm my love?" "Yes, wife. I'm here." Cara kissed a long your chest till he reached your right nipple. He nuzzled into the plush swell of your breast, sucking gently on the sensitive skin before taking your nipple into his mouth. His tongue swirled around it, teeth grazing just enough to make you arch. "These will swell even more when you're heavy with my child," he whispered against your skin, his hand sliding down to cup your left mound. "Gods, you'll look stunning." His mouth moved to the left, giving it the same dedication as the right. "Cara." You let out a soft whimper, a single hand going to his hair to tug lightly. The man moaned around your flesh, rutting his hips to make his cock drag along your lower belly and sweet cunt. "I can't wait any longer," he said, his voice breaking with desperation. "I've dreamed of this—burying myself inside you, pumping you full until your belly rounds with our baby. A little one with your eyes, my strength. Please, let me breed you." His cock stood hard and thick, veins pulsing along its length, the tip already leaking pre-cum. He rubbed it against your slick pussy, coating himself in your arousal. "Please, my beautiful wife. I need you desperately." Caracalla kissed your lips briefly, cock head teasing your slick entrance as he waited for you. "Please, husband. I want you." With that, he thrust forward, his cock sliding deep into your pussy in one firm stroke. You gasped at the stretch, the way he filled you completely, his girth pressing against your inner walls. He paused, buried to the hilt, his hands gripping your plush hips as if anchoring himself to reality and to you. "I hope the sweet goddess Juno hear my prayers, gives us a child we'll adore to pieces. Your looks, my strength. Juno could grant us a daughter and I'd be very happy." His thrusts deepened, each one deliberate, his cock dragging along your sensitive spots. You moaned, your hands clutching at the pale expanse of his back as he fucked you steadily. Caracalla pulled away, leaving the cold air to make you shiver, he didn't mean harm, he wanted to watch as his shaft disappeared into your sweet cunt.
"I need to cum inside you, flood you with my seed. Begging you, my empress, take it all. Let me impregnate you." One of his thumbs touched right under your clit, just how you liked, massaging the spot and ghosting over the nub every so often so you didn't cum too quickly. The feathers shifted under your writhing bodies, the silks whispering with each rock of his hips. Sundown painted his skin in amber hues, sweat glistening on his chest as he picked up pace. He hooked one of your legs over his shoulder, angling deeper, his balls slapping against your ass with every plunge. "You're so soft, so perfect for carrying my heir," he rasped, his begging turning frantic. "Please, cum with me. Milk my cock, pull every drop into your womb. I want you pregnant—swollen, glowing, ours forever. Gods, yes, just like that." He slammed into you harder, his cock throbbing inside your pussy, the head nudging your cervix with each desperate push. You shattered around him, your pussy clenching in waves, pulling him deeper. Caracalla moaned hard when he finally reached his own climax, never shy to keep quiet at all. Hot spurts of cum flooded your depths, his cock pulsing as he leaned to kiss you slowly and claiming. He laid down onto you after unhooking your leg from his shoulder, still inside you despite how he was softening. You could hear him murmur thanks to you, to the Gods you both worshipped as the sun finally slipped fully away, leaving the moon to bathe the walls in night.
ᏁᎥᏁᏋ ᎷᎧᏁᏖᏂᏕ ᏝᏗᏖᏋᏒ
"Emperor! It's time!" a maid had called as she ran into the throne room where Geta and He had been discussing crops. "'tis time? Now? The baby is coming?" Caracalla was already out of his throne, following the woman to the birthing room. The chamber smelled thickly of warm oil and crushed herbs. Curtains had been drawn tight against the palace corridors, muting the distant noise of Rome beyond the walls. You gripped the carved wood of the birthing stool as another contraction rolled through you like a crashing wave, "Where the fuck is he?" “Breathe, domina, breathe,” the midwife urged softly, her hands steady at your hips. Easy for her to fucking say. A groan ripped from your throat as the pressure built again. Sweat clung to the back of your neck and dampened the loose linen clinging to your body. Your thicker frame trembled with the effort of holding yourself upright. As if summoned by the words alone, the door opened. Caracalla and the maid you had sent walking in. He crossed the room quickly. “I was told—” Another contraction slammed into you, making you cry out, clutching the midwife’s arm. Caracalla froze, helpless and unsure. “Good, good,” the midwife murmured. “The child comes soon.” You shook your head weakly to no one in particular. “It feels like I’m dying.” Caracalla crouched beside you, gripping your hand hard enough to ground you. “You are not dying,” he said fiercely. “You are giving Rome its future.”
“Rome can wait, Rome is not important right now.” you snapped breathlessly, side eyeing him. The midwives exchanged amused looks as one urged "Push now." You bore down with a strained cry, every muscle in your body burning with effort. "Again, my Empress!" The room blurred through sweat and tears as you pushed with all your might. Your grip on Caracalla tightened until his knuckles whitened, even he was starting to hurt. A sharp, sudden cry cut through the chamber but your body hadn't relaxed. "A Princess!" One of the maids beamed, wrapping the small infant in sheer linen. Your chest heaved as relief flooded through you, despite the tension. "No… There has to be more, I can't relax." Your voice wavered, blurry from stress and tears. Caracalla blinked, "Another?” you could only manage a nod, eyes squeezing as another cry left you till you felt the woosh of relief, now there was two cries in the air that wasn't yours. "A Prince!" the woman cheered softly, doing as the first. A daughter and son. "You did beautifully, my wife." Cara smiled and once you looked dover, you could see your husband had been crying. "Cara…" you murmured before he was kissing you. He watched as the healer cut the cords, smiling at how two little bundles.
Every part of you felt heavy, like your bones had turned to stone, but the weight on your chest made it worth it, once you had finally laid down. Your daughter stirred in your arms, wrapped in soft linen, her tiny mouth puckering as if already searching for something to complain about. “Well,” you murmured weakly, brushing a fingertip across her cheek, “someone already has her father’s temper.” Across the bed, Caracalla looked up immediately "That is totally unfair." he would've complained more but the rest of the protest was lost when the own bundle in his arms wiggled slightly. The emperor of Rome—conqueror, soldier, feared ruler—sat hunched awkwardly on the edge of the bed with a newborn boy tucked carefully against his chest like something made of spun glass. Caracalla looked terrified to move as if one movement would break his son. "I think our boy likes you." You murmured, adjusting babygirl to be more comfortable. "He has a strong grip." Cara whispered, staring at he little fist that was curled in his tunic with surprising determination. Then he looked over at you and something in his eyes softened in a way few people in the empire would ever witness. “You frightened me,” he said quietly. “I was told you were screaming.” “I was screaming, my love.” “Yes,” he said flatly. “I noticed.” You rolled your eyes weakly, but the small smile tugging at your lips betrayed you. The baby in your arms made a tiny squeaking noise, stretching her little fingers. A small giggle escaped you, your finger allowing her to curl the tiny hand around. "They are already stronger than men." You laughed softly, though the motion made your sore body protest. “Oh gods, you’ve already started.” Caracalla ignored the tease, smiling as he rubbed his thumb over the tiny fist in his tunic. The boy responded immediately, tightening his hold with a small grunt. "Love, did you see that? He grabbed me tighter." "Yeah, that's what most babies do." Caracalla looked between the two infants like a man trying to understand something enormous. Eventually Caracalla shifted closer on the bed so the two of you were nearly shoulder to shoulder. The babies rested between you, small bundles of warmth. When you looked up at him again, the fierce emperor everyone feared had vanished, in place was a tired man whom had just to come to the realization that he had a family he loved oh so fiercely. Your head tilted against his shoulder as exhaustion pulled at you, "Rest, wife. The babies will be watched after." The last thing you felt before sleep took you was the warmth of your children between you—and Caracalla’s arm carefully settling around all three of you, as if guarding the most precious things in the empire.
