Silent Hill 3: Douglas Cartland/Heather Morris, Orange Set 4: Trust in Your Heart
Title: Promises
Author: rosehiptea
Fandom: Silent Hill 3
Claim: Douglas Cartland/Heather Morris
Prompt Set: Orange
Prompt: 4. Trust in Your Heart
Type: Fanfic
Rating: NC-17
Warnings/Spoilers: May/December romance, explicit. Spoilers for Silent Hill 3.
Disclaimer: These characters belong to Konami, not to me. No copyright infringement is intended or implied.
Summary: After she has her first date with someone else, Douglas finally realizes that he can't keep pushing Heather away.
Word Count: 1,800
Notes: Thank you to dasaod for beta reading. Any mistakes are my own. Previous stories in this storyline are: This World Is With Us, Fallen, Old Enough, First Date
A.N. I will mostly be using the name Cheryl for Heather in these stories, since she stated her intent to go back to it at the end of the game.
Douglas was awake when Cheryl came home at midnight. He hadn’t been able to sleep, not because he was honestly worried that she couldn’t handle herself on a date but because of other emotions he didn’t like to think about. Douglas wouldn’t want to be eighteen again for any amount of money, and as bitter as he was when he looked back on his life he didn’t want to live it over. But if he were younger he could feel the way he did about Cheryl without having to feel horribly guilty. And if she kissed him again, he could-
Stop right there, he told himself mentally. You can’t and you know it, even if she wants you to.
The next morning he left for a job earlier than he really had to, just to avoid seeing her. But when he came home around dinner time she was there of course, offering him some instant rice and asking how his day was. He was amused and just a little suspicious at her domesticity.
"How was your date?" he inevitably asked.
"It was fine," she replied. "He doesn’t kiss as well as you do though."
"Damn it, Cheryl, I told you not to-"
"Not to what? Tell the truth?"
Douglas sighed and ran a hand through his hair. "Not to talk like that about me and you. Look, at least he was a nice boy your own age."
"He was boring, actually. Just went on and on about some band he likes, and the school football team. I don't care about the stupid football team."
"But you do like music," Douglas pointed out. "And I'd sound like an idiot trying to talk about whatever you kids listen to these days."
"I like talking to you, even if you haven't listened to anything new since 1965."
"Now, hold it, I'm not that--"
Cheryl just laughed. "And John doesn't have any stories like you do, about your old friends and being a kid in California."
"But you kissed him."
"What, are you jealous?"
"No!" he said, lying blatantly. "You should... do whatever you want with him. I trust you."
"So if I have my first time in a teenage boy’s back seat, wishing it was you, you’d be totally OK with that?"
"It’s none of my business where you have your first time, Cheryl. And what do you mean, wishing it was me? Why the hell would you wish that?"
Cheryl walked around the table and stood next to him. "I don’t trust many people anymore. Maybe no one, but I trust you."
"That doesn’t mean you should-"
She interrupted him with a kiss. This time he gave in, just a little, deepening it and letting his arm go around her waist.
"There’s more to it than that," she murmured into his ear. "But still... is it so awful and unhealthy for me to want to be with someone who has been there for me, who I know would never hurt me?"
It is when he’s three times your age, he thought. But he didn’t say it; he just let her kiss him again. The next thing he knew she was in his lap, running kisses down his neck and stroking his chest through his shirt.
Realizing how aroused he was getting from her touch, he pushed her away gently and stood up. "This isn’t going to happen, Cheryl."
"Well, not in the kitchen," she said.
"I mean you should just go to bed and forget about this."
"I can’t just keep pretending to forget my feelings, Douglas."
He went into his own room then, feeling torn between his desire for her and his better judgment.
You really wouldn’t ever hurt her, he thought. She’s good for you, and maybe you’re good for her. Better than some teenage boy who only wants one thing.
Which is the same thing you want. Don’t pretend you want to sleep with her for her own good.
His inner struggle lasted until ten o’clock. At that point he gave up and knocked on her bedroom door. She answered it wearing a long T-shirt that he recognized as his. She was sleeping in his clothes?
"Do you need something, Douglas?"
"I guess I thought that would be obvious," he said. Then he turned to leave, but she caught him by his sleeve.
"Come in."
This time when she kissed him he gave in completely, putting his arms around her and drawing her close to him. Her lips were soft and he could smell something like soap and mild perfume. She pulled away for a moment just to laugh.
"Is something funny?" he asked her.
"No, I’m just happy."
He wanted to tell her she was beautiful when she was happy but he didn't want to sound foolish. Cheryl guided him toward the bed, where she pulled back the covers and sat down. He sat beside her, leaning back against the headboard. She was beautiful, extremely so. Though she had changed her name back to Cheryl, she had kept her hair blonde. It suited her fair coloring and complemented the freckles that sprinkled her cheeks.
Douglas stroked her face. "Are you sure you realize what you’re getting into here?"
"You mean that it's going to hurt? I can handle that."
"No, I meant that this will change things, even if we don't want it to. Even if we only spend one night together."
"Is that your plan, that we should only have one night?"
She was beautiful when she was indignant, too.
"I don’t know," he said. "Don’t ask me to make any promises." Though he had already made any number of promises, even if he hadn’t spoken them out loud.
Cheryl then gave him a look that was almost shy and pulled the shirt off over her head, sitting there in only her underwear. Douglas tried not to leer like some dirty old man, but she had such gorgeous breasts, and lovely long legs.
"Touch me," she said in a soft voice, and he reached out, running his hands gently over her the skin of her arms and watching her smile. She felt so soft under his touch, delicate almost, though he knew her spirit was so tough. He wanted to protect her, whether she needed it or not, and he knew that was one of his unspoken promises.
Slowly, he moved his hands toward her breasts, carefully stroking them, rubbing the firm nipples with his palms. She sighed as if in pleasure and he thought that at least he was doing something right.
She gestured toward his shirt. "Your turn," she said.
He began unbuttoning his shirt. Cheryl had only seen him with his clothes on; he'd been pretty careful about that. What would she think of his slight beer belly or the hair on his chest? He hardly looked like the smooth muscled actors Cheryl liked to stare at on television.
After a moment she reached for his buttons herself. "Come on... it's all right." She pushed his shirt off and threw it to the floor. Then she cuddled up to him and kissed his chest, giggling as if she were embarrassed. He ran his fingers through her sleek hair until he realized she was reaching for his belt buckle. Reluctantly, he let his pants and underwear join the pile on the floor.
"You sure you want to go through with this?" he asked. For an answer she curled her hand around his erection and stroked him. He gasped, and tilted her chin up for another kiss. She pulled away for a moment to take her underwear off, then let herself fall the to the pillows, pulling him down on top of her.
This was happening so fast. You have to make this good for her, he thought to himself. Douglas took a moment to place small kisses on her neck, to lave her nipples with his tongue.
Finally he ran a hand up her thigh, toying with her curls. He was panting softly, unable to believe this was happening, that he was letting it happen.
"I’m ready," she said.
Douglas felt clumsy suddenly, all elbows and knees and hips. But now he didn't want to stop; he was only human. He knelt between her thighs, not asking again if she was sure. But he went very slowly, barely brushing her with his tip before he tried to penetrate slightly. "Does it hurt?"
"A little. Don't stop."
"I don't want to hurt you," he said.
"I told you I could handle it."
He started again, sliding slowly inside her, watching as she winced slightly and then smiled.
"See?" she said.
When he was fully inside her he shuddered with pleasure and buried his face in her neck. She would have a beard rash there in the morning, but he barely had time to think about anything like that, with her so tight around him and her breath in his ear telling him again not to stop.
Douglas was no longer thinking about right and wrong or old and young, just about the way her eyes were closed in pleasure as her hands gripped his back tightly. He began to move his hips, and Cheryl moaned softly. She was looking up into his eyes now. He kept going, keeping his movements gentle. Then he realized that even though he was holding back he was going to come; he couldn’t stop himself. He gave one more thrust and just let it happen. Panting, he looked down into her face, wondering if she was disappointed.
When he moved off her she immediately cuddled against his side, and he held her there for a long moment. She leaned against him heavily, as if she were overwhelmed.
"I’m sorry if I... if you didn’t--"
"Shh. It was good, and we have time to get better," she replied.
Cheryl was counting on having time... he didn’t want to correct her, not now. Giving her one more kiss, he got out of the bed.
"You said we’d have at least one night," she chided him.
"One round is all you get with a guy my age," he replied.
Her face fell. "That wasn’t what I meant."
"I’m going to the bathroom, Cheryl," he said gently. "I’ll come back and lie down with you if you want."
She nodded. When he came back she was smiling again, and he lay down, letting her pillow her head on his chest. He toyed with her hair and stroked her hip distractedly.
"I’m so sleepy," she murmured.
"Just go to sleep then," he said. He didn’t want to face the morning, but he would have to. And no matter what he said about promises, he knew he couldn’t just let her go now.
Author: rosehiptea
Fandom: Silent Hill 3
Claim: Douglas Cartland/Heather Morris
Prompt Set: Orange
Prompt: 4. Trust in Your Heart
Type: Fanfic
Rating: NC-17
Warnings/Spoilers: May/December romance, explicit. Spoilers for Silent Hill 3.
Disclaimer: These characters belong to Konami, not to me. No copyright infringement is intended or implied.
Summary: After she has her first date with someone else, Douglas finally realizes that he can't keep pushing Heather away.
Word Count: 1,800
Notes: Thank you to dasaod for beta reading. Any mistakes are my own. Previous stories in this storyline are: This World Is With Us, Fallen, Old Enough, First Date
A.N. I will mostly be using the name Cheryl for Heather in these stories, since she stated her intent to go back to it at the end of the game.
Douglas was awake when Cheryl came home at midnight. He hadn’t been able to sleep, not because he was honestly worried that she couldn’t handle herself on a date but because of other emotions he didn’t like to think about. Douglas wouldn’t want to be eighteen again for any amount of money, and as bitter as he was when he looked back on his life he didn’t want to live it over. But if he were younger he could feel the way he did about Cheryl without having to feel horribly guilty. And if she kissed him again, he could-
Stop right there, he told himself mentally. You can’t and you know it, even if she wants you to.
The next morning he left for a job earlier than he really had to, just to avoid seeing her. But when he came home around dinner time she was there of course, offering him some instant rice and asking how his day was. He was amused and just a little suspicious at her domesticity.
"How was your date?" he inevitably asked.
"It was fine," she replied. "He doesn’t kiss as well as you do though."
"Damn it, Cheryl, I told you not to-"
"Not to what? Tell the truth?"
Douglas sighed and ran a hand through his hair. "Not to talk like that about me and you. Look, at least he was a nice boy your own age."
"He was boring, actually. Just went on and on about some band he likes, and the school football team. I don't care about the stupid football team."
"But you do like music," Douglas pointed out. "And I'd sound like an idiot trying to talk about whatever you kids listen to these days."
"I like talking to you, even if you haven't listened to anything new since 1965."
"Now, hold it, I'm not that--"
Cheryl just laughed. "And John doesn't have any stories like you do, about your old friends and being a kid in California."
"But you kissed him."
"What, are you jealous?"
"No!" he said, lying blatantly. "You should... do whatever you want with him. I trust you."
"So if I have my first time in a teenage boy’s back seat, wishing it was you, you’d be totally OK with that?"
"It’s none of my business where you have your first time, Cheryl. And what do you mean, wishing it was me? Why the hell would you wish that?"
Cheryl walked around the table and stood next to him. "I don’t trust many people anymore. Maybe no one, but I trust you."
"That doesn’t mean you should-"
She interrupted him with a kiss. This time he gave in, just a little, deepening it and letting his arm go around her waist.
"There’s more to it than that," she murmured into his ear. "But still... is it so awful and unhealthy for me to want to be with someone who has been there for me, who I know would never hurt me?"
It is when he’s three times your age, he thought. But he didn’t say it; he just let her kiss him again. The next thing he knew she was in his lap, running kisses down his neck and stroking his chest through his shirt.
Realizing how aroused he was getting from her touch, he pushed her away gently and stood up. "This isn’t going to happen, Cheryl."
"Well, not in the kitchen," she said.
"I mean you should just go to bed and forget about this."
"I can’t just keep pretending to forget my feelings, Douglas."
He went into his own room then, feeling torn between his desire for her and his better judgment.
You really wouldn’t ever hurt her, he thought. She’s good for you, and maybe you’re good for her. Better than some teenage boy who only wants one thing.
Which is the same thing you want. Don’t pretend you want to sleep with her for her own good.
His inner struggle lasted until ten o’clock. At that point he gave up and knocked on her bedroom door. She answered it wearing a long T-shirt that he recognized as his. She was sleeping in his clothes?
"Do you need something, Douglas?"
"I guess I thought that would be obvious," he said. Then he turned to leave, but she caught him by his sleeve.
"Come in."
This time when she kissed him he gave in completely, putting his arms around her and drawing her close to him. Her lips were soft and he could smell something like soap and mild perfume. She pulled away for a moment just to laugh.
"Is something funny?" he asked her.
"No, I’m just happy."
He wanted to tell her she was beautiful when she was happy but he didn't want to sound foolish. Cheryl guided him toward the bed, where she pulled back the covers and sat down. He sat beside her, leaning back against the headboard. She was beautiful, extremely so. Though she had changed her name back to Cheryl, she had kept her hair blonde. It suited her fair coloring and complemented the freckles that sprinkled her cheeks.
Douglas stroked her face. "Are you sure you realize what you’re getting into here?"
"You mean that it's going to hurt? I can handle that."
"No, I meant that this will change things, even if we don't want it to. Even if we only spend one night together."
"Is that your plan, that we should only have one night?"
She was beautiful when she was indignant, too.
"I don’t know," he said. "Don’t ask me to make any promises." Though he had already made any number of promises, even if he hadn’t spoken them out loud.
Cheryl then gave him a look that was almost shy and pulled the shirt off over her head, sitting there in only her underwear. Douglas tried not to leer like some dirty old man, but she had such gorgeous breasts, and lovely long legs.
"Touch me," she said in a soft voice, and he reached out, running his hands gently over her the skin of her arms and watching her smile. She felt so soft under his touch, delicate almost, though he knew her spirit was so tough. He wanted to protect her, whether she needed it or not, and he knew that was one of his unspoken promises.
Slowly, he moved his hands toward her breasts, carefully stroking them, rubbing the firm nipples with his palms. She sighed as if in pleasure and he thought that at least he was doing something right.
She gestured toward his shirt. "Your turn," she said.
He began unbuttoning his shirt. Cheryl had only seen him with his clothes on; he'd been pretty careful about that. What would she think of his slight beer belly or the hair on his chest? He hardly looked like the smooth muscled actors Cheryl liked to stare at on television.
After a moment she reached for his buttons herself. "Come on... it's all right." She pushed his shirt off and threw it to the floor. Then she cuddled up to him and kissed his chest, giggling as if she were embarrassed. He ran his fingers through her sleek hair until he realized she was reaching for his belt buckle. Reluctantly, he let his pants and underwear join the pile on the floor.
"You sure you want to go through with this?" he asked. For an answer she curled her hand around his erection and stroked him. He gasped, and tilted her chin up for another kiss. She pulled away for a moment to take her underwear off, then let herself fall the to the pillows, pulling him down on top of her.
This was happening so fast. You have to make this good for her, he thought to himself. Douglas took a moment to place small kisses on her neck, to lave her nipples with his tongue.
Finally he ran a hand up her thigh, toying with her curls. He was panting softly, unable to believe this was happening, that he was letting it happen.
"I’m ready," she said.
Douglas felt clumsy suddenly, all elbows and knees and hips. But now he didn't want to stop; he was only human. He knelt between her thighs, not asking again if she was sure. But he went very slowly, barely brushing her with his tip before he tried to penetrate slightly. "Does it hurt?"
"A little. Don't stop."
"I don't want to hurt you," he said.
"I told you I could handle it."
He started again, sliding slowly inside her, watching as she winced slightly and then smiled.
"See?" she said.
When he was fully inside her he shuddered with pleasure and buried his face in her neck. She would have a beard rash there in the morning, but he barely had time to think about anything like that, with her so tight around him and her breath in his ear telling him again not to stop.
Douglas was no longer thinking about right and wrong or old and young, just about the way her eyes were closed in pleasure as her hands gripped his back tightly. He began to move his hips, and Cheryl moaned softly. She was looking up into his eyes now. He kept going, keeping his movements gentle. Then he realized that even though he was holding back he was going to come; he couldn’t stop himself. He gave one more thrust and just let it happen. Panting, he looked down into her face, wondering if she was disappointed.
When he moved off her she immediately cuddled against his side, and he held her there for a long moment. She leaned against him heavily, as if she were overwhelmed.
"I’m sorry if I... if you didn’t--"
"Shh. It was good, and we have time to get better," she replied.
Cheryl was counting on having time... he didn’t want to correct her, not now. Giving her one more kiss, he got out of the bed.
"You said we’d have at least one night," she chided him.
"One round is all you get with a guy my age," he replied.
Her face fell. "That wasn’t what I meant."
"I’m going to the bathroom, Cheryl," he said gently. "I’ll come back and lie down with you if you want."
She nodded. When he came back she was smiling again, and he lay down, letting her pillow her head on his chest. He toyed with her hair and stroked her hip distractedly.
"I’m so sleepy," she murmured.
"Just go to sleep then," he said. He didn’t want to face the morning, but he would have to. And no matter what he said about promises, he knew he couldn’t just let her go now.