Hi! This is my first fic, so sorry if it's terrible. This story is rated T but it has themes of abuse in the beginning. Again, I'm really sorry if this sucks! Leave reviews n such, you know what to do.
Anyways, please enjoy You're Safe with Me:
"Mm, Amy."
She shuddered at the words. His hands ran down her body in ways that made her squirm. She was pressed up against the TARDIS wall, naked, and breathing hard.
She whimpered, "Please."
"Please, what Amy?" He said, a devilish look in his eyes.
She was crying now. "Please, stop it."
He looked at her eyes. "Do you truly believe that I will? Because you'd be quite wrong, Amy, quite wrong." He smiled a smile that scared Amy more.
His hands wound down her, picked her up, and threw her to the floor. She was laying on her stomach, her face pressed against the cold hard floor. He pressed his naked form on top of her. "Oh Amy, my Amy, does this feel good?" He asked innocently while holding her down and shoving his penis inside of her.
"No! Please, just, stop it!" She sobbed, feeling violated.
He grabbed a handful of her hair and pulled it so that he could see her tearstained face.
"You are mine right now, I own you, and if you disobey me, I will strike you. And not even your Doctor is going to save you." Rory wiped up Amy's tears. "Now, now, no need to cry. You'll enjoy this." He thrusted into her painfully. She yelped out in pain and began crying again. Still inside her, Rory flipped Amy so that she was lying on her back.
"Oh, Amy," he whispered across her bosom. She wriggled beneath him, trying to get free.
"Rory, please! Stop, I'm begging you, please, Rory, you're hurting me!" She screamed.
"Amy, your pain does not faze me. As long as you are screaming my name."
Her fear had turned to disgust. "You fucking bastard!" She struck him across the face. "I hope that you burn slowly in hell."
Rory only looked pleased. "Oh, Amy, what did I say about disobeying me? And not only did you do that, but you hit me too? Punishment is required."
She lost her confidence after he said that. She tried to run, but he was too fast, and he had her leaning over the railing before she realized what had happened. He tied her there, and she cried even harder. He slowly took off his belt, making the buckles tinkle on purpose. She realized what he was about to do, so she struggled to get out of the bonds faster. She heard it slice through the air and smack against her bum. She cried out in agony. He struck her again, near her inner thighs. Pain shot through her and she fell limp against the railing. He hit her again, and again, but before the fifth one, she heard him readying it, but was stopped short.
"What the hell do you think you are doing?" A familiar voice boomed.
She turned to look. Behind her, the Doctor was beating Rory to a pulp. She stood up, shocked, as the Doctor threw Rory out the TARDIS and locked the door. He pulled levers in order to leave Rory behind, in the past or in the future, it didn't matter. Once he finished that, he hastily walked to Amy. He undid her bonds, and she sobbed into his shoulder, soaking his tweed jacket. Giving her his jacket to cover herself, he picked her up and told the TARDIS to draw a bath for her.
"Hey, Amy, it's okay now, he won't hurt you, I promise." Trying to soothe her, he kissed her forehead.
He was carrying her bridal style and she was still crying against his chest. They entered the bathroom. He removed his jacket from her, and he set her down, softly, into the tub. Too frightened to move, she clung to him. He laughed softly. "I've told you, Amy, it's okay. You're safe with me." She nodded, reassuring herself. The water went up to her neck when she slumped against the tub. She watched as the Doctor unbuttoned his shirt. He wet her hair, and afterward, the Doctor began to shampoo her. His large hands massaged her scalp and soothed her nerves. She sighed in response, finally relaxing. He took a pitcher, filled it with water, and poured it on top of her head, shielding her eyes from the soapy water. He conditioned her hair as well. The substance in his hands smelled of honey and vanilla. He rubbed it into her hair and started washing her body. The Doctor began with her feet. He soaped up a loofah and washed her toes, up to her heels, then to her calves and her knees, climbing up to her thighs. He looked at her watching for her reaction when he slid the loofah to where her legs met her body. She did not protest and instead nodded, giving him the okay to move forward. He washed her southern area and traveled up to her stomach. He skipped her chest for now and washed her arms to her shoulders and on her neck. He washed her back and her bum, and finally went to her chest. She, again, did not protest as he cleaned her. The Doctor rinsed out her hair and watched the soap glide down and off her body. Throughout the cleaning process, the Doctor discovered many bruises exploding on her skin randomly. Amy stood, and then a towel was wrapped around her body, courtesy of the Doctor. He picked her up, once again, bridal style, and carried her to his room. Setting her down easily, he fetched her some of her pajamas and some underwear. When he walked back into his room, he found Amy sitting at the end of the bed staring off into space. He set the clothes next to her, and she got dressed. He watched her movements, slow and painful. It broke his heart to see his Amy in pain. Once she was clothed, she sat down and looked anywhere but the Doctor. Kneeling in front of her the Doctor asked, "Amy, I know this is a stupid question, but are you okay?" He tried to rest his hands on her shoulders, but she flinched, saddening the Doctor even more. He searched her eyes for any emotion, but all he saw was emptiness. She hummed in response, not clearly a yes, but not clearly a no. Amy finally met his eyes and he stood up and hugged her. Strong arms wound around her body and she hooked her legs up by the Doctor's waist. Her face was buried in his neck, taking in the scent of him. His hands stroked her back and he sat down on his bed. He pulled away.
"Blimey, Amelia, I thought-I thought you and Rory were getting along fine! Wha-how long has this being going on?"
She sniffled. "Doctor, it's fine, it's okay, I'm okay," she smiled, trying to be brave, "I think it started after you dropped me off and told him that I kissed you. Times overlap so I don't know how long collectively."
"Amelia," he said frowning, "I am so sorry to have caused this!"
"Doctor, no, don't you go and think it's your fault, because it isn't. My fault and mine alone. I came on to you in the fist place. I'm the one to blame," she tried to reassure him.
"Amy, Amelia, dear God, Amelia," the Doctor said, and pulled her into his arms.
She came gladly to him and began to sob. Hard, loud sobs full of hatred and grief and pain, so much pain, the Doctor could hear the pain in her cries. She cried till she had no more tears to cry, and she remained in the time lord's hold for a while, listening to the double beat of his hearts.
As he pulled away from the hug he asked, "Amy, do you want to sleep in my bed tonight?" She nodded. "Do you want me in here too?" Amy thought, but not for long, for she nodded again. "Okay," he said, slipping off his shoes and clothes until he was only in his boxers. While undressing, he told her to climb up into bed. He lifted the covers up to surround the both of them. He held Amy close, not caring that her hair was still soaking wet and sticking to him. Amy was grateful for the companionship, and that she didn't have to sleep alone tonight. The lights were dim and their eyelids grew heavy with sleep. After a kiss on the forehead and a sweet goodnight, Amy drifted off. The Doctor inhaled the scent of her, filling his nostrils with a smell that sent him into dreamless slumber.
...
The Doctor heard the soft breathing of Amy when he woke up. He opened his eyes, vaguely aware that they had probably slept most of the day away. He didn't mind. Sliding off the bed, the Doctor walked around the room thinking to himself. When he looked over at Amy, she looked peaceful. Her chest rose and fell in rhythmic patterns, and he noticed that her face was softer, that there were aspects of her he hadn't fully noticed. For instance, the speckling of freckles across her cheeks and nose. Long, rust-colored eyelashes casting dark, spidery shadows across her cheekbones. Just her face in general. He hadn't had the chance to appreciate her beauty. He climbed back onto the bed, trying not to wake Amy. He propped himself up on his side. He leaned over. His face hovered over her's for a while, he was studying her, memorizing her. She woke with the Doctor's breath on her cheeks. She didn't open her eyes right away. The Doctor watched, fascinated by the process of regaining consciousness. Her green eyes looked up at him affectionately. He grinned the goofy grin that brightened Amy's day.
"Morning, Pond," he greeted.
"Doctor," Amy regarded groggily. "Doctor, can't we just stay in bed please? I don't wanna get up and I want you next to me."
He obeyed her wish and collapsed on top of her with his head on her belly. He stared up at the ceiling whilst Amy ran her thing fingers through his hair. He sat up and looked at Amy, her tired eyes glancing across his room, and he snuggled up to her. Their foreheads were pressed together and she smiled in comfort.
"Amelia?" poked the Doctor, "Let me heal you, please."
She opened her eyes and looked into the all-knowing eyes of the man before her.
"How do you mean? Use your regeneration energy or however you do it?"
"Yes," was the reply.
"Okay," she agreed.
The Doctor leaned in, and soon his and Amy's lips were melding together. The warmth and tingling he felt from his body transferred into Amy's and she soon felt less sore and more alive and awake than she had in months. Even though the transfer was over, the pair kept kissing, they needed that kiss. That kiss held all kinds of feelings between the two. Sadness and loss and heartbreak and anger and wonder. And when they finally pulled away, Amy kissed him on the top of his nose and whispered, "You're safe with me, Doctor, and I'm safe with you."