STORY: Atraco (Patreon)

Disclaimer: All characters in this work are 18 years of age or older. This content is intended for mature audiences only. By proceeding, you acknowledge that you are legally permitted to view explicit material in your jurisdiction and understand that this work contains adult themes.

WORD COUNT: 5k words

SUMMARY: Anna is stuck in the middle of a very sticky situation when what's supossed to be a quick errand at the bank turns into a desperate situation when she sudddenly goes into labor in the middle of a heist.

TAGS: fpreg, birth kink, clothing (panty) birth, birth denial, a rather quick labor, pushing back in, nsfw, +18 content

Every single time that her stomach told her that something wasn't right, Anna didn't have any other choice but to obey. There was this little thing called intuition, and with her, it seemed it worked like clockwork.

That one time when her body just told her not to go into that one place, or when she just knew that it was better if she didn't mess with that one person. There was just something that would settle deep down in her stomach, as if her own body were working to send a warning that this wasn't it. 

She should have listened to it better.

James had insisted that this particular procedure at the bank couldn't wait. It was a simple ordeal: go to the bank, do whatever it was they needed to do —James assured it was going to be something quick— and afterward she could keep going and swing by the hospital for one of her appointments.

Nothing more than just a quick errand. She was just heavily pregnant with a baby that didn't seem to be in any hurry to come out to the world. Anna had the time. She was supposed to be due like a week ago, by her doctor's math, but apparently even the professionals could fail. According to her doctor, she could still go on for a few more weeks, and it wouldn't be something to worry about. 

Yes, that probably was because her doctor wasn't the one who was ridiculously pregnant.

So when she woke up that morning and felt something in her stomach, a quick sensation crawling up her back, she could only lay the blame on the usual discomfort that her body had gotten used to feeling in the last months. 

So yes. She groaned and complained and put on the only piece of clothing that could fit her comfortably in this heat, some old sundress whose fabric stretched over her swollen stomach and barely managed to keep her breasts... well, covered. But it fit, and it didn’t make her feel like she was melting, so that was enough.

Jaime didn’t offer to cover this one for her— not like he could have asked off work, anyway.

So she went. She realized that they had changed the old benches they had for uncomfortable wooden ones; talk about a downgrade. Just thinking about sitting down there was uncomfortable. Anna exhaled, rubbing her stomach as she lowered herself onto the wooden surface. God, she could only pray this didn’t take long. The only thing she wanted was getting out of there and moving to the doctor's office —with the nice, comfy chair and the damn AC— and talking about an induction. 

Yeah, that pretty much summed it up: she wanted this baby out.  

She barely realized what happened when it happened. There was a sudden outburst of screaming, the clatter of something dropping to the ground, and the next thing Anna knew, at least three masked guys covered from head to toe in black were shouting orders and pulling a gun on the cashiers, bringing the few pathetic security guards to their knees. Her brain processed someone's scream, the sudden panicked cry of another person in slow motion.

The realization hit her all at once. She realized that knot at the base of her stomach, that stomach-turning sensation, hadn't been just the normal discomfort of her body. It had been a warning. And she should've listened to her gut.

Anna imagined all the possible outcomes she expected to happen next, to be true: the best one, these men would just drop their guns, uncover their faces, and say it all had been some kind of sick joke, a bit that went too far for some twisted TV show. Or maybe that someone had already pressed some sort of miraculous red button —one with PANIC BUTTON in big letters—and the police were already on their way here, ready to shut it down before it even started.

Anna guessed that the sudden tension in her stomach was just a bad concoction of the divine power of intuition and the adrenaline pumping through her body. There was no way that she was, right now, having a contraction. 

It was just a hunch. The odd feeling that had taken over her body since that morning was a hunch, a gut feeling. Not labor. She couldn't be in labor.

Anna knew that she was eating her own words, that until just a few minutes ago she couldn't wait to have this baby out of her. But this, a pregnant woman in labor in the middle of a damn robbery, was the kind of thing that happened in crappy movies. 

Anna looked back down at her purse. Fucking shit. She pressed her purse closer to her on her lap, arms protectively wrapping around the sphere of her gravid stomach. This couldn't be happening to her. Not right now. 

One of the masked guys, the one who seemed to be leading this whole thing, shouted something. Two of them nodded along and then turned around, walking around the people on the floor and asking for their things, guns aiming dangerously in the air, and hasty voices filling the dense silence. One of them was walking straight towards where she was. 

The familiar tightening of her stomach started again. 

All Anna could see behind the masked face was dead blue eyes staring down at her. 

“Alright, sweetheart. Don't resist, don't be stupid,” the guy spoke, voice muffled by the fabric. “Give me your purse.”

She didn't even have the chance to think about resisting before the guy yanked it away from her hands. Anna lifted her chin to find the guy's face, hands immediately flying to wrap around her stomach, body moving, sliding as far back in her seat as she could. The man's eyes weren't staring at her; they were down. They went wide when they landed on her swollen abdomen.

For a second, she thought he was going to say something, the way his lips twitched at the corner. But his lips formed a thin line before he turned around and continued walking, stripping the next person next to her of their possessions.

Anna's hand twitched over her stomach, thumb brushing over the fabric that stretched over the tense surface. The discomfort was settling in again, a sharp pull of her muscles, her skin itching. Anna exhaled as the discomfort faded.

Breathe in. Breathe out. Remain calm. Don't be stupid. All she had to do was relax. Getting nervous would do her or the baby no good. Of course, she knew that. 

Anna leaned back. Her hands covered her bump, fingers entwining together, brushing against each other in a nervous twitch. Her stomach tensed.

Anna swallowed. She wasn't quite sure where to put her eyes. Staring right at the floor made her feel nauseous. Looking up, around, made her feel anxious. It felt as if she couldn’t focus on anything but the sound of her own blood pumping in her ears, even when she could see the cashier's lips moving in hurried motions and hands trembling in the air as one of the masked guys pointed a gun right at their face. 

Her eyes were on the now tamed and defenseless security guard —stripped of his gun and walkie-talkie— when her vision got obscured by something. Anna's eyes ran along the black fabric of the sweater in front of her until they finally landed on one of the masked guys staring right down at her. She was almost sure it was the same one from earlier.

He smelled of cigarettes and sweat, and when he leaned in, Anna felt like throwing up. The guy motioned to her, waving the bloody gun in his hand carelessly towards her, “Get up,” he said. 

Anna didn't reply. Her brain didn't fully process the request. Get up? Was he talking to her?

Of course he was talking to her. She saw the guy raising his eyebrows beneath the mask as he tilted his head, then lowered himself closer to her. Anna moved away, back hitting the wall.

“I said,” the man repeated. “Get up.”

Anna blinked. This time, her brain wasn't given the time to process before her body was already acting; she barely realized when and why the fuck she stood up —the gun staring right at her and her own survival instinct were both good reasons—but there she was, following this guy. 

“This way,” the man said.

Anna suppressed a moan as she stood up, body protesting at the sudden movement. It was all going too well until he leaned in. Anna's head snapped up to face him, body retreating immediately. Her hands flew to her stomach, wrapping around herself protectively as they continued walking. The only thing she could hear was the sounds of her own steps, dragging slowly and stumbling across the carpeted floor as the man’s grip tightened around her arm, pulling her forward.

Every single worst-case scenario was flying through her mind, like thousands of movies repeating over and over again. What did this man want? What was the worst outcome possible?

Almost as if the man could read her thoughts, his grip on her arm loosened. He was still touching her, making her feel disgusted. Another turn. Anna found herself face-to-face with a door. The man opened it, tilting his head to signal for Anna to walk in.

The man walked in behind her and closed the door. Anna turned around, trying to keep as much distance as possible from him as her heart pounded in her chest.

“Sit down,” the man said. Anna didn’t react. “Or don’t. Whatever. Here’s what's gonna happen: you're going to stay here, you're going to stay quiet and be good. Yeah? After a small team meeting, we decided that having you out there was more of a liability than anything, you know.”

Anna breathed and again, as if the man could read her thoughts, 

“Don’t worry,” he grinned, yellow teeth showing. “Won’t touch you. I'm not that kind of criminal.”

He laughed as his eyes scanned Anna’s face. Then they moved lower, towards her stomach. Anna could feel her body tensing, muscles going taut, hand cupping around the base of her stomach. Like an animal bracing itself for impact, waiting for a predator to lean in.

But nothing happened. He nodded. 

“God, you’re huge. You look ready to pop. I bet you get that a lot,” he said, “How far along are you?”

Anna stared at him. There was a moment of silence where she moved her hand up, took a step back to put more distance between her and the man. 

“Cat got your tongue?” he insisted, taking a step further. “Well. I can always guess. You’re carrying so low,” he said, “You're almost there, aren’t you? You can’t be much farther from your due date.”

Anna shrugged. She took another step back. Her leg hit the edge of the desk. Her stomach tensed. Anna's breath hitched in her throat, and her fingers wrinkled the fabric of her dress. God, there couldn't be a worse moment for her to be having a contraction.

The pain expanded from the base of her stomach to around all of her midsection, fire spreading over the muscles of her lower back. Anna exhaled, one of her hands moved back to support herself from the desk as Anna forced herself to steady her breath. 

Shit. The man’s eyes moved from her face to her stomach, dwelling over her, and Anna felt so exposed. The way his eyes squinted, then widened, told her everything she needed to know.

“Oh,” the man said, sucking in a breath, a small smile appearing on his lips. “Oh. So I was right,” he chuckled darkly. “You are ready to pop! Don’t tell me you're in labor, darling. That would be rather inconvenient.”

”I’m not.” Anna lied. Through gritted teeth, she forced herself to stand upright. 

The contraction was starting to ease. 

A part of her wanted to believe that she could convince herself she wasn't in labor. This couldn't be the place where her baby was going to be born.

Except that the little knot forming at the base of her stomach —the one Anna could no longer point to if it was her intuition or anxiety or just another contraction piling up— was telling her otherwise.

The man looked almost delighted. As if he had just hit bingo by guessing that she was, indeed, in labor. He licked his teeth and chuckled, before Anna watched him start walking towards the door. He turned one last time, gun in hand, waving dangerously in the air.

“You stay here for now. I don't really think you want to have that baby here, you know? That would be a big mess-up for all of us,” he said. “Don’t do anything stupid and be good.”

Anna leaned her weight against the desk. She closed her eyes as she heard the door closing behind the man, then the sound of it being locked from the outside.

At least they were on the same page about one thing: neither wanted this baby out here, now.

***

This was not going as Anna would have expected. 

She wasn’t sure what she was expecting, but in her mind, in her own private library of shitty action movies she had seen in her life, this whole robbery deal was supposed to go a bit differently. She thought a matter of this caliber was supposed to be fast, sharp, loud. Main focus: fast. It didn’t feel like they were playing fast and furious out there.

Of course, she tried opening the door as soon as the man left. Didn’t work.

And then, nothing. Anna had tired herself pacing around the office like a caged animal. She tried opening the door over and over again, tried somehow to get to open the small window on the top of the wall —she couldn’t even reach it—, where she could see the feet of the people walking by. It seemed like no one outside the building was aware of what was going on inside.

The only thing that kept Anna on track was the persistent contractions that kept coming. Anna tried to think they were just cramps, just some rightfully anxiety-induced stomach ache. Until she felt it— clear as day, the mass of the baby’s head moving down her birth canal.

And that happened fast. All this labor deal was happening too fast. Anna's mom had told her countless times over and over the story of how she barely made it to the hospital when Anna was born, and how her brother had been born right as they parked in the hospital. Few weeks ago, her doctor had told her this baby was ready to come out any moment now, but that there was no rush. The baby would come out when it was ready. It was not a good thing that the moment it decided to be ready was just now, after weeks of Braxton hicks and false alarms.

But this was happening way too fast. That was the only thing Anna could think about as she leaned forward, fingers gripping at the edge of the desk as her body hunched over itself, stomach hanging low in front of her, another contraction taking over her.

“Oh, god…!” she moaned, shaking her head. “Can’t you just wait a few hours? Just…"

Just nothing. Clearly, neither her body nor her baby was listening to any of her pleas, because as soon as she finished talking, her water broke. It was not a big gush of amniotic fluid bursting out of her and spilling all over the place, just a small sprout of water trickling down her thigh. Not dramatic, just... happening.

Anna breathed out. One of her hands moved in between her legs to cup her crotch, trying to stop the liquid from coming out, but she could only stare at the small puddle forming at her feet. “Shit,” she muttered, taking a step back. “God, not fucking now.”

Anna took a step towards one of the wooden benches at the end of the room. God, this place was full of these shitty benches. Odd choice for the comfort of the customers. Terrible choice for her own comfort at this very right moment, she realized as soon as she started to lower herself onto the hard surface. 

A sharp pain shot through her middle as she hit the bench. Anna’s eyes went wide. The baby’s head moved down. Just a bit, but she felt it. One of her hands moved to rest on top of her swollen stomach, and another down, sliding between her legs.

Pressure. Anna was suddenly aware of the pressure. Something big and heavy was settled low in between her legs, not letting her sit straight without having to spread her legs open, her body was leaning forward, trying to erase the pressure on her hips and the pain in her pelvic bone.

She whimpered, trying to stabilize her own breathing. Anna breathed in, then exhaled, at the same time she forced her legs close together, hands pressing at the sides of her thighs. Forcing her legs closer just a bit more, enough to pretend there wasn’t a deep burning beginning to burn between her legs as the head of her baby descended, too fast, too soon. Just enough to prevent her own body from twitching as she tried to ignore the biting thought at the back of her mind that told her the only thing she could do about the pressure was to push.

She wasn’t sure what was worse. Being here, trapped, with a baby that was actively trying to come out of her, or the isolation of not knowing what was happening outside. By this point, she had already hoped anyone would be here, the cops, security.

And Anna wasn’t exactly a fucking midwife, but god, she was not stupid. If there was one thing she was painfully aware of, it was that this was happening. And it was happening fast. And if there was one thing sure on her mind, it was that she had to get out of here soon.

***

Her doctor had told her she would know when she had to push. That her body would not let her down and just take her by surprise, that there would be signs. It was not like she would be able to just ignore that the baby was coming. And that if she needed to push, then she needed to push.

And she had to push. 

Anna let out a sharp exhale, brushing a hand nervously through her hair. She shifted in her place, hips grinding against the wood, legs pressing close together. A wave of discomfort washed over her.

The baby felt so low. So close.

Anna bit her lip as another contraction hit. Her hands gripped the sides of her tense stomach, nails digging against it, and her hips squirmed in place. God, she needed to get out. To get this baby out. To get rid of the pressure growing between her legs, to get away from the burning fire of the baby's head moving lower, stretching her open.

She had thought that nothing else could go worse now. She was wrong. She confirmed that idea when she heard steps coming down the hallway.

A part of her brain was hoping, praying that when that door opened, she could see any kind of uniform— the other part was ready to see a familiar face on the other side. Bingo on the last one.

God, this was the last thing she needed right now. Before she could realize, he was closing the door behind him and making his way towards her.

“How you doing?” the man’s voice drawled. “Just came to check in you're not being stupid. We’re almost done out there, can you believe that?” 

“I'm fine,” Anna muttered.

“Bet you are,” the man nodded. A small smirk crept up his face.

She could feel his eyes roaming over her body. Anna didn't need him to touch her to feel it. The way his eyes drifted over her body, over the swell of her stomach, over the strained fabric at her chest. On the way her gravid stomach fell tight and heavy on top of her thighs.

Anna could feel all his focus in the way her body contorted, in the way she had to force herself to keep still, to keep her hips from shifting and rocking back and forth, to keep her posture perfect and her breath even.

She knew he knew.

And she knew she still had to pretend her stomach wasn’t contracting under her protective hands. That her jaw wasn’t stiff as she bit down hard. That fire wasn't spreading through her middle; that her own body was forcing the baby's head down. That she couldn't feel her pussy spreading open, burning at the feeling of the head stretching her apart.

She had to pretend she couldn’t feel the head right there, that it felt like this baby was just about to slide out of her if she did the wrong move.

The man gave her one last stare. His eyes stopped on her again for a moment that couldn't have been more than a few seconds, but the way his eyes lingered on her contracting stomach made Anna feel like he could just see through the fabric of the dress and see the red skin of her stomach stretching over the tightening muscle. Then he nodded, almost as if confirming something to himself, again, and turned to start walking towards the door.

 “Alright. I’ll get going,” he hummed. “Don’t do anything stupid.”

Her body was pushing. 

Anna's eyes snapped open when she felt the head moving down, mouth parting open as a small trickle of amniotic fluid came out of her as the head moved lower, liquid sliding down the skin of her inner thigh.

“No…!”

She almost let out a gasp. A sound that got stuck at the back of her throat as she forced herself to remain quiet. When she felt the huge round ball of her baby's head spreading her lips open, her swollen pussy stretching around the huge mass. It couldn't come out now.

As if the man could somehow just sense her distress, he turned around as he reached the door. One hand at the handle, piercing eyes staring over his shoulders. His eyes drifted from Anna's face —she was sure her face was red from the effort— down to her stomach, then lower: to the way she was almost sitting sideways, one of her legs almost propped up. She just couldn’t sit straight with the baby's head threatening to begin crowning.

“Everything alright, doll?” he asked, voice low.

“Mhm-hm,” Anna exhaled. She bit the inside of her cheek.

She shifted. Then, forcing her hips back and down, forcing herself to sit straight, feeling the baby’s head pushing back inside, the pressure and the burning coming back as the mass of the head moved back inside.

The man hummed. Then turned back around, opening the door. “Well, then. Behave. We’ll be over soon.”

***

Anna had been staring at the small window at the top of the wall. Up there, letting a few stray sun rays filter into the filthy basement turned office, this place was. Anna wouldn’t have been able to reach there even if she tried, and there was no way they would hear her if she screamed. She had considered maybe trying to break it earlier, but in this condition, her mind was not really thinking too much logically. But focusing on the dirty glass gave her something to distract her brain from everything else.

From the imminent feeling that if she just did one wrong movement, the head was going to pop out of her.

She wasn’t sure if she was imagining it —might as well be— but Anna was sure she could hear the movement outside the street. The sounds of police cars, the faint lightning of blue and red shadows flashing through the small window. It could’ve, right? It had to be. There was no way a national bank robbery with hostages wouldn’t be at the center of the storm. Right now, all the TV channels were probably broadcasting some kind of similar coverage. She could picture the hundreds of journalists with their cameras, standing outside the police perimeter, behind the yellow STOP tape, all of them pointing their lenses at the bank’s front door.

And inside, here, her.

Anna shifted in her seat. A low groan escaped her lips. There was so much pressure, and nothing seemed to work: staying still would send a sharp sting through her pelvis, through her hips, and moving, giving the head any single inch of space, only forced the head down her birth canal, trying to come to a full crown. The only thing keeping this baby inside of her was the flat surface of the wooden bench.

Another contraction rolled through her, muscles tightening. The only thing Anna could do was let out a pitiful moan, eyes closing. She barely had the energy to do that, all her body locked in and focused on trying to ignore the way her stomach would tense, sending sharp waves of pain through her middle. It didn't even feel like her contractions were coming in a pattern now, just one big contraction taking over her middle.

She couldn’t be that far from the actual, factual truth: her body was more than ready to push this baby out, and she was the one trying to force herself to hold it in.

A siren howled outside. Anna’s head snapped up, eyes darting to the small window. She was sure she heard it loud and clear as day, the sound of a siren, then a muffled sound of what seemed to be someone shouting. A commanding voice barking orders somewhere in the distance. 

A crash. Then impact.

Anna's eyes moved from the window to the door. She moved without thinking – leaning forward, one hand pressing against the mound of her belly and the other against the wooden bench to prop herself up. Big mistake. A sharp pain shot through her crotch, forcing a loud moan to escape her lips, body shaking as the heavy mass of the baby’s head moved down again, sliding out again.

The familiar burning returned as soon as she realized what she had done: her lips began to stretch around the baby's head, spreading the burning sensation between her legs. Anna clenched her teeth and let out another strained groan as she forced herself to sit back down.

“Nhghn!” she moaned, feeling the head slide back inside.

God, she was stuck. Her body was screaming at her to push, she wasn't sure how was it even possible that she had managed to just hold it in for so long, maybe it was just the pure stubbornness of not giving that guy the satisfaction, maybe was the fine silver lining of hope she was still clinging to that maybe, just maybe, she was going to be able to somewhat manage to give birth in outside here. Not here, like this, now.

But god, she wanted to push so bad. 

A thump. 

Anna could hear the sounds of a commotion: a door being forced open, a shout. Her heart throbbing in her throat.

She needed to push. 

“Nhghbn…” Anna whimpered, shaking her head. "Just...please just hold on one second...!"

Her hips jerked, body twisting forward. Another wave of pain shot through her when the head slid further out, spreading her lips even further as the head began to crown. Her legs trembled when she lifted her hips slightly, unable to resist the urge to push. The head slid down even when she didn't make an effort.

A hushed conversation. Heavy boots stomping against the carpeted floor.

Anna swallowed. Leaned forward a bit more. Just a bit. Just enough not to feel the pressure anymore. The head crowned. Her swollen lips bulged around it, a gush of amniotic liquid gushing out of her, liquid dripping between her legs and staining the fabric of her dress. Her hips bucked, and Anna lifted up. The wet fabric of her dress stuck to the back of her thighs, and the head pressed against the wet fabric of her underwear.

Outside the door, steps came closer. She recognized one of the two voices. Someone shouting an insult.

The door snapped open. 

Her guy walked in. Outside, another guy rushed in the opposite direction. Far away, more and more commotion.

“Get up,” the man growled, striding towards her. 

Anna was one second away from pulling back down, forcing herself to sit back against the wooden bench, forcing the baby back in, but she didn’t stand a chance when the man leaned forward and grabbed her arm. The gloved hand tightened around her forearm, and he yanked her up. Anna let out a scream.

Her lips stretched painfully around the baby’s head as it came to a full crown, legs trembling as they gave up beneath her. The tight grip of the man's hand was the only thing that kept her from collapsing on her knees on the floor. Instead, she lowered herself almost graciously to the floor, a whimper escaping her at the feeling of the baby’s head coming out too fast, too hard, pussy burning. The only thing that kept the head from coming fully out was her own panties.

Anna wailed as she bore down, shifting onto all fours on the floor, her huge stomach hanging beneath her. The wet fabric of her dress clung to the backs of her thighs. She pressed her chin to her chest and pushed.

The head didn’t move anywhere, of course. Neither did the man behind her. She could feel his presence behind her, still for a moment. She didn't want to turn around. Didn’t need —and not like she could— to know the way his eyes were staring at the bulge between her legs, pupils wide at the scene in front of him. She knew he knew that Anna no longer could stop what was happening, that her body had reached a point of no return because this baby was coming now. 

The man moved her hand from her arm to lift Anna's dress up, peeling off the fabric from where it stuck to the wet skin of her legs to uncover the growing bulge between her legs.

“It’s coming!” she moaned, squirming in place. “Help...nhgn…mgnnhn…me!”

Anna’s body gave another involuntary push. She didn’t need to turn around to feel the man’s eyes stuck on the crowning head almost dangling between her legs, seeing the way the head slipped out barely a few inches each time her body contracted and pushed, only to be met with the restrictive fabric of her underwear, to slide back in as soon as the contraction ended.

Even if she tried, she wasn’t sure she was going to be able to reach behind herself, to even try to move down her panties. The man pulled her underwear down. A contraction took over Anna’s body, and she pushed. The head popped out of her with a gush of amniotic fluid. She let out a loud moan as she gave in. Not like Anna could do anything but push now, legs trembling as the head dangled between her legs. Her body couldn’t stop pushing. 

Anna leaned forward, forehead pressing against the cold tile of the floor, and she pushed. A gush of amniotic fluid escaped her pussy as the baby slid out of her, right into the man’s hands.

Anna stood up slowly, leaning back against the wooden bench, heart thumping in her chest. The man handed her the crying baby, and Anna cradled the small bundle of joy to her chest, her breath still coming in short, shaky bursts. The crying softened as it settled against her chest, skin to skin, their warmth shared in the stillness of the room.

Outside, the sirens had faded into the background, forgotten now.