Very early on their relationship Skye realizes that Grant Ward is a territorial man.
Not in the asshole way of trying to control her, God no, she would never go down that road again. No, Ward shows it with other ways, much more pleasurable. His eyes will grow darker, his handsome face will twist into a pout and he’ll sulk all day until they make their way back to their room so he can remind her exactly how much he loves her.
“Take it off.” He growls as he pushes her up against the closed door and she’s startled for all of two seconds. His lips are on hers and her arms find their way around his neck and he said something, right? Because her brain can’t work properly when his lips kiss her neck like that. “You heard me.” He repeats as she tries to catch her breath. “Take. It. Off.” When he reaches for the zipper of her jacket everything falls into place.
Lincoln’s jacket. She’s wearing Lincoln’s jacket. Poor, lovesick Lincoln that’s still helplessly in love with her.
She had borrowed it after the mission was done because she had lost hers and was getting cold. With debriefing and all the fuss she didn’t take it off. Ward’s fingers already work on pulling the zipper and pushing it off of her shoulders and Skye only laughs when he picks her up and carries her to the bed. She knows how this will go down. She knows he’ll mark her with bruises and teethmarks and she’ll draw angry red lines down his back.
She also knows that by the end of it he’ll be soft clay between her fingers again. Because in his place, she would have reacted the same.