Hi Ghost, I hope you feel better soon!
If it's okay I'd like to request (I'm not sure if requests are open, feel free to ignore or put on the backburner if not!) Hank Hall x Reader where Reader starts wearing Hank's shirts to bed (because they are big and comfy and if Reader is wearing them Hank isn't so all good reasons) and Hank didn't *think* he had a thing for this but is quickly realising he very much *does* and Reader maybe teases him with it a little ;D
a/n: Oh, anon. First of all, I love you for this. Secondly, I apologize that it took me so long, but I hope you enjoy! <3
The first time it happens, he doesn't get the chance to think about it very much one way or the other. It wasn't intentional or thought through on your part, but after things got heavy and left you both naked, eventually falling asleep wrapped around each other, you woke up in the middle of the night to get some water. Hank's shirt was the closest thing you happened to grab, and there wasn't much sense in taking it off when you climbed back into bed with him.
He'd open his eyes and give up a gruff good morning but it isn't until he starts sliding his hand up your side that he realizes you're wearing his shirt.
Oh, so we're at that stage now where you're just gonna steal all my clothes?
As much as it sounds like a complaint, he says it with a grin on his face.
Hank has a habit of leaving his clothes laying around everywhere. And I mean everywhere. It's kind of a problem, but it makes for easy access. When you get out of the shower, hair still a little damp, in nothing but his shirt, he stops what he’s doing and takes the time to rake his eyes over you.
One sultry sweep up and down before he’s crossing the distance, right into your space, hands sliding up the hem to rest on the bare curve of your hips, slowly hauling you toward him.
As much as he loves having you all to himself, half naked, in his shirt, that in turn tends to keep him half naked as well, it’s when you start wearing them out that it drives him to the brink of the sweetest kind of insanity.
He’s watching you like a hawk (yes, I did this on purpose), making conversation, talking and laughing around your shared group of friends. Wearing his goddamn shirt.
Everyone knows it’s his and that makes you his too. Everyone gets to see that you belong to him and you have every part of him in return. Everything he has to offer. Straight down to the shirt off his back.
He smothers the simmer slowly boiling away at his resolve in a beer bottle, watching the way you moved, the way it was sizes too big for you and swayed in a pool of fabric around your body.
His knuckles went white around the neck of his drink and Dick feigned friendly concern in the place of heartfelt caution. There were a couple of (several) occasions when they’d gotten to drinking and the mood just didn’t sit right with Hank. Those usually resulted in him and Dick taking a couple of swings at each other.
I’m fine. He wanted to rip that shirt off of you.
It was sometime after dinner when you finally relented under his stares.
Am I being punished for something?
The question caught you off guard into laughing, but it was cut short when he caught you by the waist, leaning down to your level, so his nose brushed against yours and his lips were close enough for you to feel what he had to say next. It was then that you noticed how dark his gaze was.
Because I swear, y/n. You’re going to be the death of me. Can’t say I mind when I’d be going out with a bang
