#savitar

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Barry Allen

Walks into the room and freezes for a second, processing the sight of you in his hoodie.

A slow, warm smile spreads across his face—completely smitten.

“Is that… mine?” he asks, voice soft but amused, his tone carrying that boyish wonder.

He steps closer and tugs gently at the sleeve, grinning: “Looks better on you than it ever did on me.”

Wraps his arms around you from behind, burying his face in your neck and murmuring: “God, I could get used to this.”

Gets a little clingy—presses kiss after kiss on your temple, cheeks, and neck because something about it feels so intimate.

Later, snaps a picture when you’re not looking (with your permission later) because he wants to remember how adorable you look.

When you give it back, he insists: “Keep it. It’s yours now.”

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Harrison Wells (Eobard Thawne)

Notices instantly—his sharp eyes miss nothing—and his lips curl into a knowing smirk.

“My clothes?” he says in that low, velvety voice, stepping dangerously close.

Walks a slow circle around you, letting his gaze linger, deliberately making you squirm.

Fingers brush along the hem or collar, almost teasing, as he murmurs: “Interesting… you wear them well.”

The way he says it feels loaded with double meaning—power, possession, and intimacy all at once.

“Keep it,” he finally says, voice soft but commanding, “because now it’s yours… and everyone should know that.”

Later, he leans close to your ear with that smug whisper: “You have no idea what that does to me.”

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Harry Wells (Earth-2)

Sees you in his shirt and immediately scowls—not because he’s mad, but because he’s flustered.

“What… what are you doing?” comes out more gruff than intended.

Runs a hand through his hair, pacing for a second, then blurts: “You can’t just—steal my clothes like that.”

His voice softens when he sees your grin, and he mutters something like: “You look… good. Damn it.”

Eventually gives up pretending he’s annoyed and pulls you in for a kiss, muttering: “Fine. You win.”

For the rest of the day, he’s quieter, stealing glances at you every chance he gets—clearly loves it even if he’ll never admit it outright.

Later, when no one’s around, he hugs you from behind and whispers, almost grumpy but sincere: “Don’t do that unless you’re ready to drive me crazy.”

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H.R. Wells

Gasps audibly like it’s the most shocking thing in the world: “Oh. My. God. Is that my shirt?!”

Dramatically clutches his chest and stumbles back like he’s fainting.

“You… you look incredible! Like, out-of-this-world fantastic!” he gushes, spinning around you to admire every angle.

Immediately grabs his phone: “I need a picture. No—five pictures. Wait—let me fix your hair first!”

Wraps an arm around you and insists you both take selfies because he’s so proud to show you off.

Gets ridiculously sentimental out of nowhere: “You know… it means a lot that you’d wear my clothes. Like… wow.”

Doesn’t stop complimenting you for the entire day.

At night, while holding you, he whispers softly (for once, genuinely): “I love seeing you in something that’s mine. Makes me feel… close to you.”

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Ralph Dibny

Whistles the second he sees you, flashing that mischievous grin: “Well, hello gorgeous.”

“Is that my shirt or are you just trying to kill me?” he jokes, waggling his eyebrows.

Immediately starts teasing: “Looks way better on you. Should we just burn the rest of my wardrobe?”

Wraps an arm around you dramatically: “Ladies and gentlemen, this is peak fashion—exclusive Dibny Collection.”

Later, when it’s just you two, the jokes stop for a moment—he pulls you close and murmurs: “Seriously though… you look perfect.”

Loves it so much he starts “forgetting” shirts at your place on purpose.

Will brag to the team (in his own Ralph way): “Guess who makes my clothes look like a million bucks?”

Secretly thinks about it for days because it makes him feel connected to you.

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Cisco Ramon

The moment he sees you, he freezes mid-sentence and just… stares.

“Is that—wait—IS THAT MY HOODIE?” he blurts out, practically squeaking.

His grin is instant and huge, like a kid on Christmas: “Oh my God. Oh my God. You look… AMAZING.”

Runs up to you, tugging lightly at the sleeve with this goofy, lovesick smile.

“You’re literally the cutest thing I’ve ever seen. Ever. In life.”

Immediately starts calling you things like “my hoodie model” or “Mrs. Ramon Couture.”

Hugs you tightly, burying his face in your neck and muttering something like: “I’m never washing that hoodie again. It’s yours now.”

Will brag about it later to the team in a nerdy way: “Did you guys know this one looks better in my clothes than I do?”

At night, he confesses quietly: “It makes me feel… safe, like you’re mine and I’m yours.”

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Wally West

Walks into the room and stops dead in his tracks—eyes going wide before breaking into the biggest grin.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa—hold up… are you wearing my shirt?” he says, voice a mix of excitement and disbelief.

Zooms over in less than a second, circling you like: “Okay, that’s officially the cutest thing I’ve ever seen in my life.”

Wraps his arms around your waist from behind, nuzzling your neck: “You’re not allowed to take this off. Ever.”

Playfully tugs the hem, teasing: “Careful, you’re making it really hard for me to concentrate on anything else.”

Immediately takes a picture for himself, grinning like an idiot, then sets it as his lock screen without asking.

Jokes: “Guess I’ll have to wear your clothes now to make it fair,” and 100% follows through.

Later, when it’s just the two of you, he kisses you—slow at first, then playful—and murmurs against your lips: “God, you look so good in my stuff.”

Secretly starts leaving extra hoodies at your place on purpose, because he loves seeing you in them.

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Julian Albert

Walks in and immediately stiffens, blinking like he’s not sure what he’s seeing.

“Is that… my sweater?” he asks, voice slightly clipped but laced with something deeper.

Stares for a moment too long, then clears his throat and looks away, pretending to be unaffected—but his ears are bright red.

After a beat, mutters softly, almost to himself: “Blimey, you look… stunning.”

Steps closer, adjusting the collar gently like it’s an excuse to touch you, whispering: “It suits you.”

Gets protective without realizing it—pulling you close when anyone else walks by, as if silently claiming you.

Later, while making tea or sitting together, admits quietly: “There’s something about seeing you like that… something that feels… right.”

When you try to give it back, he shakes his head firmly: “No. Keep it. It’s yours now.”

From then on, you’ll notice him lending you more and more of his clothes—like he secretly wants you to wear them.

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Leonard Snart

Notices instantly the second you walk into the room—his ice-cold eyes flick up and down before meeting yours.

A slow, dangerous smirk spreads across his lips as he leans back casually: “Well, well, well… someone’s been playing dress-up.”

His voice drops lower when he steps closer: “Looks better on you than it ever did on me.”

Fingers graze the edge of the fabric in a subtle, teasing touch as he murmurs: “You planning on giving this back… or should I assume it’s yours now?”

When you shrug and smile innocently, he chuckles darkly: “That’s what I thought.”

Pulls you close with a firm hand on your waist, murmuring in that quiet, commanding tone: “You know what that says, right? It says you’re mine.”

In private, he kisses you—slow, claiming, leaving you breathless—before whispering against your lips: “Don’t let anyone else see you like this. That’s for me.”

After that, he starts “forgetting” his coats or shirts at your place… and smirks every time you put them on.

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Hunter Zolomon

The second he sees you in his clothes, something primal flickers in his eyes.

Doesn’t say a word at first—just stares, intense and unblinking, like he’s burning the image into his mind.

Walks over slowly, every step deliberate, until he’s towering over you.

Voice is low, gravelly, almost a growl when he finally speaks: “Mine.”

Fingers curl around your wrist, pulling you closer, his other hand brushing the hem possessively.

“You wearing this… do you know what it does to me?” he murmurs against your ear, breath hot and ragged.

Doesn’t let go for a long moment, kissing your neck roughly before pressing his forehead to yours.

Keeps repeating in a husky whisper: “Mine. Always mine.”

Later, after things have calmed down, he wraps you up in his arms and mutters, softer this time: “Never take it off. Ever.”

From that day forward, he makes sure his clothes stay in your space—because to him, that’s a claim.

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Savitar (Dark Barry Allen)

When he sees you in his jacket, his entire demeanor changes—his smirk grows feral, predatory.

“You’re wearing my clothes,” he says, voice dripping with dark amusement.

Walks up slowly, circling you like prey, fingers brushing along the fabric in a deliberate tease.

“Do you even realize what that means?” His voice lowers as he leans in close, lips brushing your ear: “It means you belong to me.”

Grabs your chin gently but firmly, making you meet his glowing eyes: “Say it. Say you’re mine.”

When you do, his smile deepens into something wicked and possessive.

Kisses you hard—rough, desperate, and claiming—like he’s marking territory.

Pulls back just long enough to whisper: “You’re never taking this off. Ever.”

Later, he wraps his arms around you from behind, resting his head on your shoulder: “You look perfect like this. Like you were made to wear me.”