This is not part of the plan.
Having sex with Jemma Simmons had not been part of the plan.
Having raptuous sex with Jemma Simmons and then falling asleep in Simmons' bunk, their arms wrapped around each other, sweet nothings whispered into the night had most definitely not been part of the plan. Of any realistic plan, if she's being honest with herself.
But there they are.
She doesn't know how she's still awake, because physical exertion after a lenghty and intense bout of sex is a thing, but sleep is eluding her. Skye reluctantly lifts her head from the pillow to assess the situation... 'assess the situation...spoken like a true Robocop...what have I become?' she snorts out loud.
Skye sighs, head falling back on her pillow, rubbing a tired hand over her eyes. She's been staring at the brick and pipes ceiling for hours. Might have been minutes, but it feels like hours to her.
The gently snoring lump currently turning her back to her, nestled between the brick wall and her own body is her. 'Yup, I'm screwed' she thinks. 'In all the good ways, too'. She rolls her eyes at the double entendre she can conjure so easily in her mind when she's been a blubbering mess around Simmons for weeks. Who knew a tiny Brit would be the one effectively disrupting her ever-impeccable flirt game?
She is ectastic, though still dumbfounded, about this turn of event, there is no doubt about that. She had stopped hoping for this kind of development between them when Bobbi I'm-a-badass-who-accidentaly-looks-like-an-Amazon-princess Morse had shown up at the Playground, on the heel of Jemma's cover being blown to pieces, strutting in the base as if she owned it and still looking humble and, quite frankly, like a very nice person. The hero worship was so clearly etched on Jemma's face that Skye had pretexted she was busy with something DC had assigned her to, just so she could avoid the dread that was settling in the pit of her stomach and wallow in her self-pity in an isolated room, away from the adoring crowd. Hell, even May had been very pleased by Bobbi's addition to the team.
She had been jealous. She can admit to that now, even if at that time, she had chalked up the overprotectiveness and lack of enthusiasm for Bobbi's arrival as a reluctance to see even more changes to their team.
She suddenly turns on her side, her front to Jemma's back, seeking the warmth of the Brit.
'Funny how actually using Jemma's name and not a variation of Agent Simmons or Simmons sounds both foreign and so familiar to me'. She can't help it, she smiles. A smile that reeks of contentment. Contentment and barely concealed surprise at how they finally managed to overstep thatboundary. She tries to be quiet and move stealthily, not wanting to wake Jemma up from sleep, especially not when she knows it's been a while since she's been able to sleep properly. She manages to get herself closer, so that her whole body is almost flush against the smaller woman, leaving only inches between them. 'Thank God for the ninja training I've been doing with May'.
Once she's settled alongside Jemma, she carefully rearranges the covers that had slipped during the past couple of hours and were now crumpled around Jemma's waist. From her vantage point, and as she tilts her head down Jemma's body, Skye is powerless to stop the oggling she knows she's doing. She's always found her to be incredibly alluring, the soft curve of her hips a perfect companion to the fullness of her breasts. Skye's wandering hand mirrors the direction her thoughts are taking as she finds the tip of her fingers ghosting over the dip of her hip, travelling upwards to finally rest her hand, palm down on the deceitfully firm planes of her stomach.
Skye has to admit that her undercover job had really forced her to maintain a very strict fitness routine, hardening muscles that were, until then, only used to hold bunzen burners. She's grateful Jemma excels at preparation, though, as she managed to escape relatively unscathed from the ordeal. That's why she's taking her time in drinking in the sight of her, laying under her hand, breathing, alive, and thoroughly fucked into oblivion. She knows it's irrational but feeling her engulfed in her arms quiets the restlessness that had taken residence in Skye's mind for the past months.
When she's sure the hand she has on Jemma is not bothering her in her sleep, she finally indulges in what she has spent months fantasizing about. She completely aligns herself to the sleeping beauty 'how fitting', and ever so slowly, she takes advantage of her being taller to move her head from her pillow to Jemma's, completely invading her space, effectively spooning her, and resting her face just inches from the skin of her neck, inches from the spot where she spent hours earlier biting, licking, and kissing, inches from where she can't refrain herself to drop a gentle kiss any longer. She closes her eyes with a sigh, sending a quick thank to the hair deities who inspired Jemma to chop off her long locks because she can nuzzle her neck effortlessly 'and let's face it, she looks so fuckin hot like this'. With a final move, she presses her entire body even flusher against Jemma, interweaving their legs under the covers. She's inhaling her scent, uniquely Jemma, she thinks, a comforting mix of her perfume, her lab desinfectant and herself. She can actually smell herself on the woman she's lovingly cradling and it's driving her crazy with lust, happiness and a possessiveness she's not sure she even had in her. She's never been possessive with any of her lovers, but she knows without the shadow of a doubt that she's already there with Simmons.
As she breathes in her hair, nuzzling her long, almost regal neck, then kissing a temple that is adorned by a myriad of freckles she never knew were there and soft deltoïds 'Jemma would be so proud'. She realises that she likes being a little bit taller, in the moments when they are just the two of them, because when she is next to her, in broad daylight, or in the lab, or at the briefing table, she might be the one wearing boots that boost her verticality but Skye still feels like she is the small of the two and Jemma is the proverbial Sun. She's always been in awe of her intellect, mild manners, empathy and optimistic personality. But when they are like that, pressed together, in the warm cocoon of Jemma's otherwise slighty rough blankets, she can't stop the thought that they fit perfectly. She may be a bit messed up, she may have flaws, but she knows she's somehow a good fit to the genius softly snoring in her arms. They are a good fit.
She can feel her mind succumbing to the stillness of the night and the warmth of their bodies. The slight buzzing noise of the electricity running through the wires and engines powering the Playground, combined with the smell of sex still permeating the room gives the small space an almost ethereal atmosphere, dragging her thoughts back to the previous activities of the night.
A talk that had led to a long-overdue kiss. A talk that had led to them, frantically shedding their clothes off. A talk that had led to the ever mild and polite scientist litterally body-slamming Skye into the door that separated Simmons' safe haven to the rest of the base. As she remembers how forceful and demanding Jemma had been,'and how into it I have been, for fuck's sake', she cannot stifle a giggle, a full tingle travelling her still naked body, because who knew Jemma was such a stud behind closed doors 'I sure didn't'.
She finally relaxes enough to snuggle into Jemma's back, soflty rubbing her nose in between her scapulae, getting drunk on her scent, when she feels the older woman stirring under her arms. She holds her breath, cringing at how her need for her had disrupted the sleep she was craving.
"Skye? what's going on? " A rough voice cuts through the quietude, british accent in full effect. Skye could slap herself.
Skye drops a kiss to the expanse of skin in front of her and whisper quietly "Go back to sleep, love, it's still early"
"Hmmmm... ok".
The scientist readjusts their position in a semi-sleepy haze and drags Skye's arm all the way over her, so that her hand rests just above her heart. In a gesture that speak volumes, especially when she's half-asleep, subconscious and basic instincts taking over, Jemma brings the hand she's holding to her mouth to kiss soft knuckles, one by one. Just like that, she drops it back above her breast, a quiet "love you, skye. 'night" leaving her lips before she falls back into a deep sleep.
Skye smiles. Sleep came within seconds.