03.2023 | WELCOME BACK! Hello friends old and new! I'm so excited to welcome you all back to SITW! I've made some changes to the plot and added the ability to play supernatural charcaters! So come and check it out! I can't wait to jump back into this little town with all of you!
A strange history surrounds the town, it is a place where mysterious and supernatural things have been known to happen. The reputation of the town reguarly draws in visitors and newcomers alike. While some residents avidly believe in the supernatural, others are far more skeptical. What do you believe?
It was total darkness. Julian couldn’t see his surroundings, but he could feel the closeness of the walls around him. They were incredibly close, unthinkably close, close like a coffin. Panicking, he started to struggle, moving to beat against the sides of his prison. But before he could, a sound made him freeze in terror. Voices. They were soft but close, muffled and in a language that he didn’t understand. Julian stayed completely still, knowing that if he moved a muscle they would hear him and somehow it would be worse than this. This - the crushing, oppressive closeness of the walls. Listening to the voices, trying not to think, he felt like it was getting warmer. Was it getting warmer? Or was it his imagination?
I’ll never be free of this place.
No, it was getting warmer. Julian could feel the heat on his face radiating from the sides of his invisible box. It was a raw, metallic heat - like the heat of a stove or a car on fire. He wanted to shout out in alarm, but the voices were getting louder and rising in anger. The voices were the only thing more terrifying than the box. Julian could feel sweat on his forehead, his pulse racing, his breath coming in short gasps. The sides of the box were now too hot to touch. They were burning. He felt stinging pain in his arm and could smell burning human skin - his skin. The voices were almost deafening now but he couldn’t stay quiet any longer. He had to get out he had to get out he had to-
I’ll never be free of this place.
Julian was already screaming before he sat bolt upright with his eyes wide open. The cool night air met with the sweat on his face, making him shiver. In fact, he couldn’t stop shaking. Julian was almost convulsing as he ran a hand through his hair, getting his bearings. He was at home in Sweetwater, in the glass-domed sunroom which extended off the house. Charlotte called it the Sanctuary. It was a beautiful space with beautiful, abundant plants and large, plush couches that were big enough to curl up on and take a nap. Strings of lights spiraled around the ceiling in an imitation of the night sky. Julian would come out here often - sometimes with Charlotte, sometimes alone. Especially when she was there, he was sure it was his favorite place in the whole world.
I’ll never be free of this place.
Those words were fading now, but he knew them well. That was the first thing that his friend and fellow infantryman had said when they’d been freed as hostages. Sergeant Irwin and Corporal Gladding were laying side by side on the floor of a truck as they were sped off to the nearest field hospital. Medics and other personnel hovered over them, but neither he or Corporal Gladding had said a word. When he finally spoke, those were the only words that his fellow hostage would say.
Julian sat up and put his head in his hands, wiping away sweat and tears. Checking his watch, the glowing green numbers seemed to mock him: 1:30 AM. He exhaled in frustration. He must have fallen asleep out here, though he couldn’t remember when or how. Seeing the glass and half-emptied bottle of whiskey on the side table, he had his answer. Julian sat up now, still shaking, and moved to pour himself a swallow-full and downed it in one.
Calming a little, he longed for Charlotte, wondering if she had heard him screaming and hoping his girls had not. Charlotte likely knew that he was sleeping out here, though she wouldn’t have come to wake him up and send him to bed. That wasn’t her way. One of the things that he adored about Charlotte is that she didn’t micromanage. She took him as he was, and didn’t make a fuss over all the cosmetic details out of place. Thinking about Charlotte made him smile a little. He started to pour another shot of whiskey, resolving to set off to find her when it was finished - that is, if she didn’t find him first.
It was getting absurdly late and Charlotte was still awake. Tomorrow was Saturday and she had a strict Monday to Friday schedule. Perks to owning your own business was setting her own hours. There were exceptions of course for emergencies, there was always the change of a mental crisis emergency and in her time as a psychiatrist she had talked down more than one person from the metaphorical edge.
She had been in her office until about midnight finishing up some notes so she wouldn't have to work on them during the weekend. When she had gone to their bedroom after finishing she found that Julian was not there. The Sanctuary was the first place that she had gone to look and sure enough she found him there asleep with a bottle of whiskey. She had pulled a blanket over him, kissed his forehead softly, and gone to back to their room.
Only she didn't go to sleep. Despite the late hour she didn't feel all that tired. She read a couple chapters of her book, a random and mindless thing about a vampire romance. While she had plenty of other more intellectually stimulating books, she liked to keep something fluffy around for bedtime. The scene she read was particularly heated and she found herself slowly slipping her hand between her legs.
That was when she heard Julian scream. Her face saddened immediately and she snapped the book shut. She grabbed her robe, an ivory colored silk number with lace trim, and pulled it on as she left the room. Luckily, she didn't hear a peep from the girl's rooms as she passed. She went to the kitchen first, grabbing a tall class of water, some Advil, and a sleeve of crackers before she headed to the Sanctuary.
"Hello, my love," she said softly as she entered the room. She set down the crackers and handing the glass of water and the pain killers to her husband before she sat down beside him and gently rubbed his back, feeling the dampness of the fabric from his sweat. She didn't need to ask what was wrong, she knew.
Julian startled a little when his wife spoke, almost dropping his glass. Since he was discharged from the Marines, his hearing loss had taken some getting used to. Most of the time it wasn’t a problem, but soft noises like Charlotte’s careful footsteps eluded him. However weakly, he couldn’t help but smile when he saw his wife coming through the doorway.
Charlotte was an absolute vision. Even in his current condition, the way that the silk of her robe moved against her skin stirred something inside of him. When he was with other women, he was able to play macho - be the Casanova. Other women fell so easily under his spell, hanging on his every word and looking at him star-struck. But being with other women, however much he enjoyed it, only made him more secure in the knowledge that nobody would ever compare to his wife. With Charlotte, he felt safe enough to be weak, and she was always able to make him strong again.
Julian accepted the water and Advil, taking the pills and draining half the glass. This was a ritual they’d gone through dozens of times, especially during patches where his nightmares were particularly bad. She would always be there - water, meds, and crackers in hand. Charlotte would never complain, never bring it up for discussion in the daylight unless he brought it up first.
Feeling Charlotte’s hand on his back, he realized that every muscle in his body had been locked and tense. He relaxed under her touch, breathing in the sweet, warm smell of her perfume. With every breath, he felt better - both the whiskey and his wife’s presence working their magic. He lay a hand on her thigh, softly stroking her flawless skin with his thumb. Looking up at her equal parts sadness and lust in his eyes, Julian smiled more easily. “Late night? I’d say I’m sorry to have woken you, but the truth is…” His eyes flickered, taking in her whole appearance. “I’m not that sorry.” Aware that he was stinking of liquor and covered in sweat, Julian still leaned in to kiss her - if she’d let him.
It was routine, but just because it was routine didn't make it a bother. She loved taking care of Julian, she loved being there for him just as he was always there for her. They enjoyed their side lovers but no one could ever compare to the relationship and connection that they had to each other. Charlotte had never once questioned that when it came down to it, their marriage was strong and Julian would always put her first.
She gave a small one-shouldered shrug when he asked if it had been a late night. The arousal she had already been feeling grew more prominent with the hint of lust in his gaze and the way he took her in with his eyes. She didn't care about the smell that lingered on it, it had never stopped her before. "You didn't wake me, but I wouldn't have been sorry if you had," she replied in a whisper full of desire.
As he pressed his lips to hers she returned the kiss without hesitation and in a fluid movement she moved to straddle his hips if he didn't stop her, her robe parting and her nightgown pushing further up her thighs as she did so. Her lips never left his and she increased the passion in their kiss, her hands moving to the sides of face, her thumbs just in front of his ears and her fingers in his hair.
Charlotte was some kind of woman. He imagined that in the line up of the most beautiful women in history, Charlotte Irwin stood alongside the likes of Mona Lisa and Helen of Troy. There was something about her that commanded respect and demanded adoration. Julian could feel his excitement rising as his hips lifted to press into her, pushing her nightgown even further up so it gathered around her waist. His hands slid up either side of her thighs, tracing her smooth skin until they dipped under her nightgown.
He moved his mouth away from hers, kissing down her neck until he reached her collarbone. Julian gently nipped the skin there, pulling her hips down so she rubbed against him. A barely audible moan sounded in the back of his throat. Smiling, he lifted his face to hers so that he could gaze into her eyes. Meanwhile, his hands roamed under her nightgown, making their way down to where her hips met his in a slow and practiced manner. Julian studied her face, teasing, “Well then, Dr. Irwin. Since I have you, tell me...what occupies your mind at this unholy hour?”
She didn't care that he tasted like sleep and alcohol, it wasn't a new thing and it never really bothered her. All she wanted right now was her husband, just like this. A soft hum sounded in her throat as he kissed down her neck, his fingers tangling into his hair, and bit her lip as he nipped against her skin.
She looked down to lock her eyes with his when he started to move his hand under her clothing. Her tongue wet her lips and her breathing quickened, her gaze filled with need. She smirked at his words, tossing back phrases she used during sessions with her clients.
She rocked her hips towards his hand, desperate for him to touch her, her hands gripping his shoulders. "You Julian, you always occupy my mind...and all the things I know you can so expertly do to me."
Julian grinned his characteristic heartbreaker smile - the kind of smile that had won Charlotte over in the first place. When they met, he had been at his lowest. The physical injuries had been bad enough, but climbing out the black hole of post-traumatic stress disorder was a near constant struggle - even now. But despite the bandages and nervous breakdown, Julian had still managed to be the Lothario that a woman of Charlotte's caliber could fall in love with.
His hand went lower and lower until it slipped between her legs. Grin fading, he forced a serious expression, playing up his off-target imitation of a psychiatrist. “Dr. Irwin," His voice was low and seductive, "this sounds like quite the fixation. We'll have to go a little deeper to analyze this depraved mind of yours.” He emphasized the word deeper by increasing the pressure of his caress, watching with delight at its anticipated effect on Charlotte.
Charlotte's lips parted in a sigh as his hand moved between her legs. She had been fully intending to just take care of herself tonight but it was always better when someone else satisfied her. Well, that wasn't exactly true, there had been times when a lover had definitely left her a disappointed but it was always better when she was with Julian. He knew exactly how to pleasure her in all her favorite ways.
She might have chuckled at his choice of teasing words except that her mind was far to caught up in what he was actually doing and as he increased the pressure she couldn't stop the moan that thrummed against her lips and her hands curled into fists around his shirt at his shoulders. "Yes, please," she whispered in a pleasured beg. Her eyes opened to meet his, the desire was strong in her gaze. "Not just a little deeper, I think this may take some very long and deep work indeed," she said with a smirk.
Julian could feel his member straining against his jeans, but he resolved to take care of his wife’s needs before his own, or at least for as long as he could. He began to increase the tempo and strength of his movements.
Julian knew that he was well practiced, particularly when it came to fulfilling his wife’s desires. Sometimes he liked to think of his other encounters as a way to better perfect his own sexual prowess - something he knew worked to Charlotte’s advantage. He leaned in closer, so their lips were less than an inch apart, but still not touching. Without breaking his gaze with Charlotte’s, his free hand moved to her breast.
“Well then, Doctor, there’s no time to waste. Tell me, do these thoughts make it difficult to focus? Do they give you impulses that are hard to resist?” He leaned even closer so that his lips were barely brushing hers - but still, he did not kiss her.
Charlotte often liked to take control, and she would get to that, don't you worry, but she also loved when Julian controlled her, when she was at his mercy. To be honest, she liked it all sorts of way. She liked it when he was rough and demanding, when they sweetly made love, and when she took over as the one who called all the shots. There wasn't much that she didn't like when it came to intimacy with her husband.
Her hips rocked against his hand as she felt herself growing closer and closer to release. His hands on her body and his face being so close made her mind feel foggy and she wasn't even able to reply to him more than a sensual whimper and a small nod of her head. If he didn't stop she'd soon topple over the edge.
Julian broke his serious expression, grinning as Charlotte whimpered under his touch. He knew Charlotte’s pleasure was headed to its peak and he could no longer restrain his own desires. He gently withdrew his hand, closing the distance between his mouth and hers. Once his hands were free, he moved quickly - unbuckling his belt and unclasping his jeans in rapid succession. The moment his hand left his zipper, a sound like a gunshot split the calm of the evening.
His instincts and training took over. Without thinking, Julian moved Charlotte off his lap by flipping her onto her back and slamming her onto the sofa, lying flat on top of her to protect against invisible gunfire. Adrenaline flooded his system as he began to come back to his senses, realizing what had happened. It was only a car backfiring. He was lucky it had been a soft landing - for Charlotte’s sake.
For a long time, Charlotte had been trying to get him to use grounding exercises when he woke from a nightmare or had some sort of episode that detached him from the present. Sometimes - like now - it would be a loud noise, or something close to him that moved too fast. Grounding was supposed to bring you back to your senses - listing things that you can see, feel, hear, smell and taste. He did it now.
List five things you can see: The soft shine of Charlotte’s hair in the moonlight, the long curl of her lashes, the elegant sloping of her brows, the depth behind her eyes.
List four things you can feel: The curves of her body against him, the lingering feeling of her on his fingers, the pumping of adrenaline through his body, the desperate throbbing of his desire.
List three things you can hear: The soft and rapid sound of Charlotte’s breathing, the soft rustling of silk against her skin, the thundering of his heart.
List two things you can smell: The musk of his sweat, the sweet smell of her perfume.
List one thing you can taste: The lingering of her lips on his.
“I’m okay.” He said softly, both to her and to himself - calming down. “I’m okay, I’m okay.” Julian lifted himself so that he was still on top of her, but not crushing her. He looked deeply into Charlotte’s eyes, checking to make sure that he hadn’t ruined the moment. He hoped he hadn’t, particularly since the adrenaline was amplifying his appetite. Julian gently stroked the side of her face. “Are you alright?”
Charlotte flushed with excitement and smiled as Julian started to undo his pants. Yes. She needed him desperately.
Only the moment was taken away by a sudden loud sound and she quickly found herself on her back on the couch with her husband crushing her. Her lungs were restricted though she was able to able to breath, her breaths were shorter. She knew what had happened of course, this wasn't the first time.
She waited patiently, her hands pinned in a way that she couldn't really move them in order to help. So she stayed still and calm, letting him bring himself back to her as she looked up at him with a gentle, loving smile.
Soon enough he spoke and lifted himself a bit, allowing her draw in a deeper breath and unpin her hands. Her hands stroked his chest. "There you are," she said tenderly. "I'm just fine, my love," she assured him, gently turning her face towards his touch. She moved her hand to take his and brought it to her lips, placing a soft kiss against each of his fingertips before drawing his one of his fingers between her lips. As her tongue caressed the pad of his finger she could subtly taste herself on his skin and let out a soft moan.
Julian exhaled in pleasure in frustration. He wasn’t going to let his own demons get in the way of what he so desperately wanted. As her tongue traced his fingers, he propped himself up on one knee, flinging Charlotte’s robe open and slipping his hand back between her legs. His movements were more urgent now, fueled by adrenaline and a ferocious need to be near her.
He yanked her underwear down her legs and plunged his fingers inside her, aiming to reawaken what he’d stirred in her minutes before. “Alright then, Dr. Irwin,” he said with a growl in his voice, moving his mouth to whisper into Charlotte’s ear, “If you’re ready to proceed…” When he was certain she had reached excitement, he lifted up onto his knees, taking in the sight of her as he slipped his jeans and boxers down.