Barry Allen imagines

Not an ordinary damsel || 0.1

Summary: Y/N Y/L/N is one of CCPD's best detectives, and Barry Allen being the only one in the forensics department, causes them to interfere with each other more than they like. You see: Y/N and Barry doesn't like each other so much. But when Y/N suspect Barry to be the Flash, she gets herself into a bit too deep trouble.

Pairing: Barry Allen x Sarcastic!Reader

Warning: Zoom's involved, therefore we don't know about Kid-Flash yet, and Jessie Quick isn't a speedster yet either;) And to those who are sensitive to swearing 'n such, I'm sorry?

A/N: So because I have tons of requests, I will mash some of them up if I think they will work out nicely (and hopefully they will!). In this case, I hope it's ok for you, and <33

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"Allen, you need to run a test for me!" Y/N strode over to Barry's desk and slipped the little plastic bag right in front of him to catch his attention – as if the yelling hadn't done its work.
"What for, detective Y/L/N?" Barry said through gritted teeth, the knuckles of his fists turning slightly white.

"Well, I would use my own, but my machine broke down last night," she said with a fake pout.
"I'll see what I can-"
"Good, I need it the second lunch is over. Thanks, Allen," with that she left. And Barry's annoyance came out with a deep sigh. Gee Y/N, thanks. It's not like I have other things to be done as well, no no, I'll clear my schedule...

Y/N sat by her desk, a half-eaten Belly burger by her side while she was working hard on the questions she would be asking the neighbor of the late Miss Graham. Out of nowhere, a paper attached to one of her pieces of evidence was dumped in front of her – almost into her fries.

"Here it is," she looked up to see the irresistible stone-cold face of Barry Allen, that just made her vexing side itch for a sarcastic remark.
"Oh thank you your gracious, for offering your precious time for my mortal, unimportant business. I will forever be thankful for your goodness," Y/N was about to take the arts of hand-gestures to a whole other level but didn't get the chance to.
"I need to go, uhm... lunch meeting," Barry said and jogged towards the elevator and out of her sight.

This irked Y/N's interest. He always said something back at her. It could be anything from a bad comeback (good ones too, but Y/N wouldn't admit that), to dull attempts at ignoring her: like pretending she hadn't said anything, answering her as if what she said didn't really matter – stuff like that. But Barry never just went, and that with nothing but a lame excuse to leave. Y/N was going to get to the end of this. She was going to find out Barry's little secret. She was a detective, after all, the ones that solved mysteries – now in her case: her colleague's.

Her hands were hammering fast against the keyboard. She was writing a report based on the interview and piece of evidence she had gotten tested earlier. Her eager to get it done so she could continue with her to-do list and in the end: check the lab for any missing Barry Allen, was radiating. The witness could describe the suspect with following adjectives... She looked down at her notes again, praying she would get today's duties done by midnight.

"Thanks, Fred!" Get back to the apt., look for clues, she added to the list in her notebook. Now that the searching-warrant was dealt with, Y/N was off to her colleague's laboratory. Let's see how long that lunch meeting lasted... And as expected, Barry was not to be seen when Y/N opened the door.

Y/N hadn't slept for more than 4 hours that night. Though she wanted to blame it all on Barry Allen, she knew better. It wasn't his fault she hadn't gone to bed before 2 AM. In addition to that, it would be hard to explain how he would be guilty of her watching four episodes of Doctor Who, but he was the one who had occupied Y/N's thoughts before falling asleep. Maybe that's how he ended up in her dreams. But why he had worn nothing but an eye-patch and a pair of old and torn pants was still a mystery.