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illdowhatiwantthanks · 9 hours

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heyyy, so i have a request cause i really love your amelia storys. So could you do a amelia one, where the reader is pregnant and amelia is scared to have sex. The reader goes to her best friend (maybe arizona or christina) for advise. Than the friend and the reader go to a sex shop and buy the readers first dildo. Later amelia finds the reader using the toy and the talk about amelia being scared to have sex while the reader is pregnant. And well smut at the end.

Xoxo

Can do! Hope you enjoy. :)

Playing It Safe

Amelia Shepherd x fem!reader Warnings: 18+ Minors DNI, NSFW, sex, fingering, oral, masturbation, toy usage, sex shop, squirting, language around genitalia, some explicit language, previous Amelia trauma, pregnancy times, established relationship (let me know if I've missed anything!) Word Count: 2.1k

Summary: You're needier than ever during your second trimester, but Amelia has some pregnancy trauma that's getting in the way. Thankfully, you've got people who are willing to help you get what you need.

“Amy,” you prompted as she circled your clit with her tongue. You gently pulled her head up, and she looked up at you expectantly with those beautiful, blue eyes. “I love your mouth, but I need you inside me.”

She furrowed her eyebrows. “I don’t know, babe.” She crossed her arms and rested her chin on your protruding stomach. “It doesn’t feel safe.”

You rolled your eyes. “Amelia, come on. We’ve been over this. Pregnancy sex is perfectly safe. If straight people do it, we can do it.”

“It just…” she stuttered, flopping onto the bed next to you. You sighed, your body drifting down, down from where it had tensed up. You weren’t going to get what you needed. Not today. “It makes me nervous.” She shrugged, and you cupped her face as she lay next to you. How could someone so smart be so stupid.

“You’re a doctor. You should know this. I know this.” Amelia never treated you differently because you were a nurse. You had a different skill set, that was all. But at a time like this, you didn’t mind emphasizing that, of the two of you, Amelia should absolutely be the more educated about pregnancy and safe sex.

Amelia was quiet for a while, looking down and avoiding your eyes. “I keep thinking about Christopher.”

Shit, you thought. It’s not that you’d forgotten about Amelia’s first child, the one who’d died in her arms mere minutes after he was born. Christopher was a part of her. But you sometimes forgot that the hopes and fears that surrounded your pregnancy were different for Amelia than they were for you. Amelia had experience. Not only that, she had trauma. Heart-wrenching, horrible trauma that she’d carry with her the rest of her life, even as she also got to carry and treasure this new child. It wasn’t fair to expect Amelia to be completely rational when it came to pregnancy safety.

You ran your thumb along her cheekbone, your voice soft. “Hey. That’s not gonna happen again. Our baby is perfectly healthy.”

“I just don’t want to take any risks,” Amelia whispered.

“Okay,” you sighed. “Okay. Whatever you need.”

Amelia started moving her hand down your body. “I mean, I can still…”

“It’s fine, Amy,” you said, hoisting yourself out of bed and kissing her on the forehead. “I gotta go to work anyway.”

You felt bad for your patients that night at Grey-Sloan. It wasn’t their fault you were sexually frustrated. You slumped into a rolling chair at the nurse’s station, groaning, and laid your head on the desk.

“Wow.”

You looked up and smiled wryly. It was Arizona–Dr. Robbins, as her patients would call her. For a little while, you and her had been the only out lesbians on the peds floor, so you’d become fast friends. Never dated–you weren’t each other’s type–but you were excellent wingwomen for one another. In fact, it was Arizona who had set you up with Amelia.

She leaned over conspiratorially, so that the people around you wouldn’t overhear your conversation. “That’s a sad lesbian sigh if I’ve ever heard one.”

You shrugged.

“What’s going on?” she prompted. “Trouble in paradise?”

You leaned closer, trying to keep your voice low. “She won’t sleep with me.”

Arizona looked genuinely shocked. “Like, at all!?”

“I mean, she won’t go inside me.”

You had never seen Arizona look more confused. “...Why?”

“She’s afraid it’ll hurt the baby.”

Arizona sat down next to you, rolling close to continue the conversation. “There’s no fucking way she really believes that. She’s a surgeon.”

“I don’t think she really does. She’s just…” You sighed and groaned. “She’s got some trauma.”

Arizona shrugged and mumbled. “I mean, if you really need to, you could just use the strap on yourself.”

You blushed. “We don’t use a strap.”

“Ever?!”

“I don’t know… it just hasn’t come up, I guess.”

She seemed to think deeply about this. “Well, do you have a vibrator or a dildo or anything?”

“No,” you answered quietly, your face getting redder by the minute.

Arizona looked at you like you were an infant, smiling, like you were something cute and tiny. “Aw, you’re just a baby.”

“Shut up. Just because I’m younger than you doesn’t make me a baby.”

“No, you’re right,” she nodded, smirking. “Not owning any sex toys makes you a baby.”

You rolled your eyes.

“What time are you off today?” she said, glancing at her watch.

“7:00,” you answered.

“Me too! It’s a date then.”

“Wait, what?” She’d lost you somewhere along the way.

Arizona squeezed your shoulder. “We’re gonna find you something to put inside yourself.”

You’d never felt more out of your element in your life than you did standing in front of a wall of fake penises with Arizona.

She smiled at your horrified face.

“Little much?” she asked.

You nodded. “I don’t know, Arizona. These all seem way too… real.” You eyed a particularly girthy, veiny dildo and grimaced.

Arizona leaned on your shoulder. “They’re better when they’re attached to boobs,” she admitted. “Here, come here.”

She led you to another aisle where the toys were similar in shape, but much less realistic looking. They were almost futuristic. Sleeker, smaller, more your speed. But there were so many of them.

“I’m feeling overwhelmed,” you told her, staring at all the options.

“You want my advice?” she asked.

You shrugged and nodded.

She pulled a toy down and handed it to you. It was blue and small and bent and there were buttons. You felt like you were in Star Trek. “I’d start with this*,” she explained. “It’s relatively small. It bends, so it can mimic the feeling of fingers.” She looked pointedly at you. “Since that’s what you’re used to.”

You nodded, looking at it. “Yeah, okay. I’ll try it anyway. I just…” You sighed. “It’s not as good, is it?”

“As a partner?!” Arizona shook her head. “But it’ll do the job.”

An hour later, you were sitting in bed, the package opened in front of you, reading the little instruction manual. Sixteen settings. An app!? You just weren’t sure about it. And you felt a little bad for even wanting to use it. You knew you weren’t cheating on Amelia by masturbating. You both did it, you both knew you both did it. You worked long hours, sometimes things just didn’t line up. But this felt different somehow. Illicit.

But, god, you needed it. You’d needed it since last night. Since last week, even, when you’d started to show and Amelia had started treating you like you were made of glass.

You took a deep breath and leaned back against the pillows you’d stacked against the headboard, trying to think sexy thoughts. Amelia thoughts. You thought of her body against yours, the taste of her, her curves you loved to trace.

Your breath started to grow rhythmic, ragged, and you circled your fingers gently over your clit. After a few minutes, your arousal started to pool, and you spread it around, taking a deep breath and grabbing the toy. You looked at it suspiciously, as if it was an alien. It wasn’t Amelia. It didn’t look like Amelia. But, then maybe, like Arizona had said, it would get the job done.

You pressed one of the buttons, choosing a vibration pattern at random, and slowly slid the toy inside of you. You moaned at how good it felt to have something inside you, to once again feel something pressed against your fluttering walls. And while, no, it didn’t feel as good as Amelia’s fingers would, it was new and exciting to be able to control everything, all of it, the whole experience. The speed, the depth, the direction, to cater to your every want and move because it was you on both sides.

You continued stroking your clit as you thrust the toy in and out of you, shaking around it. God, you’d needed this.

When Amelia burst into the bedroom, still in her scrubs, you froze, face beet red, hands between your legs. She wasn't supposed to be home. Not this early.

She stared at you in shock, and neither of you spoke for a moment.

“What are you doing!?” she said, sounding somewhere between sad and angry. It was pretty clear exactly what you were doing.

“Amy, I–”

She shook her head in frustration, sitting on the edge of the bed. You tossed the toy aside and covered yourself with the sheets, feeling more self-conscious than you ever had around her.

You felt like crying. All you’d been trying to do was meet your own needs, so that Amelia wouldn’t have to. You didn’t want to make her any more anxious than she already was, but it seemed like you’d done just that.

She looked in your direction, but not in your eyes, and you saw that hers were full of tears.

“Amy…” you breathed, moving toward her.

“I’m sorry,” she said, wiping tears from underneath her eyelids. “I know it’s safe. In my head, I know it, but I’m just–” She sucked in a shuddering breath. “I’m so scared, all the time. And I know you need me, and I’m just–I’m sorry.”

“Hey,” you said, drawing close and wiping a tear from her cheek. “It’s okay. I’m sorry. I should have been better about telling you what I needed and, well, what I was doing to get it.”

She breathed deeply, seeming to calm down a bit, as she looked you over.

“Did you finish?” she asked, smiling slightly.

“What?”

“Just now. Did you finish?”

“Uh… no. No, but that’s oka–”

Amelia’s lips crashed into yours, hot and salty from her tears, and you pulled away a bit, surprised.

“Amy, it’s okay,” you assured her, holding her face in your hands. “You don’t have to.”

“I want to,” she said, her voice rough with lust and emotion. “I’m so tired of being scared.”

You looked into her eyes as she pushed you down on your back. They were lustful, determined, and just a little bit sorry. You brushed a strand of her hair behind her ear, running a thumb along her brow bone.

“Everything’s gonna be okay, honey,” you told her, quietly. “The baby’s safe and healthy.”

“I know,” she said, pressing her lips to yours and slipping her tongue into your mouth, her hands squeezing your hips.

And she didn’t look away. She kept her eyes–so beautiful, so brave–on yours as she pressed her fingers inside of you. You gasped, arching your back into her, so happy, so relieved to have her inside you again. The toy was just that–a toy, a tool. Amelia was a goddess.

Amelia whined, too, planting sloppy kisses all over your neck, your collarbone, your chest. “I missed this,” Amelia huffed, high on the way your body pulsed around her, tight and desperate and already so close to the edge. “I missed you.” Her breath was hot on your skin, her lips red and puffy from colliding with yours so furiously.

You felt yourself barrelling toward the cliff of an orgasm and grabbed her arms for dear life. “Amy,” you moaned. “Amy, I’m gonna–”

She grinned as you fell apart, quaking and throbbing around her, your hips thrusting, back arching. But, then–something neither of you had expected or experienced before–a tiny stream of fluid, flooding out of your body. You cried out, coming harder than you’d ever come in your life, way too far gone, too lost in your orgasm, to think about what the hell was going on down there.

When you finally came down, Amelia stared at you, gaping–her face a mixture of shock, self-satisfaction, and pure, dumb happiness.

“Holy shit,” she said, biting her lip and bouncing a little.

You propped yourself up, alarmed at how wet the bed was. “Did I–”

“Yeah,” Amelia laughed, running her hands through her hair. “You sure did, baby. Holy shit.”

You stared at the wet spot. That had never happened before. You weren’t sure you liked it.

“Jesus,” you said, your eyebrows furrowed. “I–”

Amelia crashed her mouth into yours, wrapping her arms around your neck.

“Never,” she said, pulling away breathlessly, “let me say I’m too afraid to fuck you again. Never.”

“It’s okay if you are,” you assured her, running your hands up and down her back.

“Nope,” she argued, shaking her head. “If that’s on the table, trauma can suck it.”

You laughed and kissed her again, happy to have her body close to yours–with no inhibitions–once more.

*This is the toy, in case you’re wondering. 😉