Call of Duty Oneshots

Home for a Day (Turner Smut!)

He wasn't supposed to come back to England. You'd been told he would stay over east and fight until the war was over or he died- whichever came first. Therefore, when you received his letter, you immediately found a way to get there to see him. If it was the last thing you did, you were determined to find him.

As you stood at the docks, watching men being let off the giant steel ships, your heart thumped nervously. Would he be the same man as before? Would he look the same, act the same? Would he remember you? That last one was ridiculous, but women in your neighborhood had spoken about their husbands and fathers not remembering their household upon returning. You were sure it was nonsense, but there were always doubts.

You gazed around and past the masculine faces as they milled about, searching for a ride home or possible loved ones. Most of them were likely looking for a place to hunker down for the night as their faces showed exhaustion. Some were freshly missing limbs- legs or arms or hands- and you had to cautiously, without being rude, look away.

Then you saw his face through the crowd first. It was straight, lips in a natural pout as they were when he usually focused. He was walking alone, without friends or comrades like some other soldiers, but he didn't look like he minded. You waved a hand, hoping he'd gotten your letter in time before returning back to England.

His eyes shifted to where you stood, dressed in the dress you'd traveled in; you'd wanted to come straight to the docks. His lips turned upwards into a smile, the widest and happiest you'd ever seen, and then he picked up the speed of his walk.

You had just enough time to open your arms when he came up and lifted you. He swung you in a circle, holding your waist tightly and breathing in your scent with a small wail of delight. You began to cry, holding his head as if it were the only thing left to hold. You returned the small wail as he brought you back down.

"I," he kissed you, "can't," another kiss, "believe," another kiss, "you're here!"

He kissed you long and lovingly, suctioning you to him with a hand behind your head. You hugged his neck tightly, missing every inch of him.

"Am I dreaming?" Joseph demanded, cupping both your cheeks with lightly calloused hands.

"No, no," you whispered, tears streaming down your cheeks as you stroked his. "I'm here!"

"God," he brought you in for another tight hug, sucking in a loud breath. "I missed you so much!"

"Not as much as I missed you," you gently pulled away from him, hands gripping both of his biceps- which had grown much larger and muscular since the last time you'd felt them. "Come, I have a hotel room reserved for the entire first week you're back here."

~~~

The first thing he did when entering the small hotel room was throw his big bag to the side and clutch you tightly back in his arms and kiss you hard. He clutched your thighs as he lifted you onto the small desk next to the door and you let out a whimper into his kiss.

You were the one to get off the desk and lead him to the queen-sized bed not a far distance away. He continued to touch you the entire time, the motions he made sending warmth through your body. His hands missed you...his body. The physical sights of him missing you were obvious, especially as you fell back onto the mattress and felt his groin clash with your spread legs.

Your dress slipped down, revealing a thigh that Turner grasped at as he stalled above you. While his other hand propped him up from you, he gazed down at your heated state with warm, wise eyes. Though war had taken it's toll on his features, the love in Turner's deep brown eyes was more real than anything in the entire world.