#Neal Caffrey x reader

[allofmytoxicity]

Could I send a request for Neal Caffrey x reader, reader x ex!Spencer Reid. Where the reader used to date Spencer when in DC but they broke cause he was too focused on work and she moved to New York to manage a company or something and starts dating Neal. But the BAU works with White Collar on a crime and Spencer gets jealous seeing how happy the reader is with Neal

Pretty Slowly

Neal Caffrey x fem!fianceé!reader

past!Spencer Reid x fem!reader

Word Count: 3.3k

a/n: I feel like I need to put this before the summary on this one because when I saw this ask come in I was on a walk and listening to Benson Boone (as you do) and Pretty Slowly, his new song, came on and the end really gave me inspiration for this.

Summary: You and Spencer used to date years ago, but now you're in New York and dating Neal, so when the BAU come in on a case, your stuck in the past wondering how you got where you are.

5 years.

5 long damn years.

It had been just over 5 damn years since you had last seen Supervisory Special Agent, Doctor Spencer Reid.

And you thought that when you had left D.C. you would only see Spencer again if you were a suspect in a case, but here he was. Standing right in the way of where you wanted to go.

It wasn't as if he could help it, he was just sitting on the edge of a desk, but because of how tall he is, his legs pushed out far enough that if you tried to rush past them, you would trip and fall if you weren't careful.

Now, the whole reason you were here was to give Neal Caffrey, ex-con and your fiancé, a coffee because he had messaged you, pleading you to bring him something better than Bureau crap.

So, here you were, coffee in hand, deciding whether or not it was worth walking across the bullpen to get to Neal who was sitting in Peter's office, looking over a file, or sending him a message saying that you were here and wait in the lobby. And by your judgement, possibly spilling hot coffee all over you and bumping into the reason you don't live in D.C. anymore was not worth it.

That was though, before Neal had turned around and saw you and waved, getting out his phone, and not long after your phone pinged. Getting it out, you saw the message Neal had just quickly typed up.

Hey! Are you bringing that coffee up or do I need to come to you?

You lightly smile at your phone, before firing back a text.

Can you come to me? I'm having a tiny crisis

You look up at Peter's office and watch Neal's shoulders shake slightly with a laugh before he sets the file down and makes his way out of Peter's office, stopping by the shelves of files before making his way towards you.

"Hey." You say, passing Neal the takeaway cup in your hands. Neal takes it and kisses your cheek, finally taking a sip of coffee after he does so.

"Hi," Neal says, swallowing. "What's the crisis that means Peter might kill me for not working?"

You raise your eyebrows at Neal, rolling your eyes as you reply. "Firstly, it's a mini crisis-" and that's all you manage to get out before Neal cuts you off.

"You said it was tiny." He states, a smirk making its way onto his face.

"And you say you totally didn't commit fraud," You deadpan before continuing. "Second, I never said you had to ask about it. I just said to come and get your coffee here because of the tiny crisis."

Neal takes another sip of his coffee and as he swallows, he shakes his head before finally replying. "Very well played Miss Y/l/n."

"It's nearly Caffrey to you." You say, finally kissing Neal on the cheek. "And if you really want to know, ehm, I, uh, nearly bumped into someone today that I thought I left back in D.C."

Neal lets out a sigh, remembering the state you were in when he first met you. You had been freshly broken up with and were barely two weeks into a new job as a museum curator when he and Peter were called to a case of potential art forgery. You, only having been there for a couple of weeks, were the prime suspect, but all they found in the end was a broken woman who didn't really know where her life was headed.

After the case, Neal had manged to get in contact with you to ask you for dinner, just to see how you were doing. You, of course accepted as it kept you from sitting and rotting in bed after work, and after a while of Neal checking in, he finally asked you out and you two had been dating ever since and were now on the way to getting married.

All Neal did was hug you. He didn't know who it was and what effect they may have had on your life, but considering the state he met you in...

He didn't think it was exactly going to be great.

When he did finally release you, you gave him a sad smile before taking a shaky breath, trying not to cry.

"Thanks." You say, taking Neal's free hand and squeezing it for a second.

"It's fine," Neal replies, doing the same action back to you. "Do you want to come and sit in Peter's office with me? I know he might be slightly annoyed but I think if we told him the situation he would be fine."

You softly smile at the gesture and look down at your shoes for a moment, composing yourself. "I would, but I have work."

"You don't have work on a Thursday. Well, at least for now because of what happened." Neal shoots back, sipping his coffee with his eyebrows raised at you.

"I don't, but I do have a meeting this evening though that I need to prepare for." You say right back at him in the same tone.

"You can still sit in Peter's office to prepare." Neal says to you, but the serious look on his face drops then and you sense the relisation just by looking at him, his face full of guilt. "Whoever this is, is in the office right now, aren't they?"

You nod and Neal's eyes start flicking around the bullpen and before long you watch as they land on the ground of BAU agents surround just beside his desk.

"It's the profilers, isn't it?" Neal asks, turning to look at you with sad eyes.

"Yeah." You say in a small voice, not sure of what was going to happen next.

And you still didn't as Neal engulfed you in a bear hug, releasing you soon after before taking you over to the elevators and getting in, where waited until you two were on a different floor to hug you.

Stepping back slightly, Neal still had his arms wrapped around your waist as you dried your eyes slightly.

"Which one?" Neal asked, a worried look on his face.

"The really tall one. Brown curly hair." You say back to him and Neal slowly nods, remembering who it was from when Peter had introduced him to the whole team earlier this morning.

"I'm sorry." Neal says, drying the last of your tears as he does so.

"Neal, it's fine. You never knew and I... I didn't tell you." You reply, a sad smile gracing your face.

"Tell me now then, if you don't mind, because if this guy hurt you, I'm not going to put you in the way of that again." Neal says, holding you just that bit tighter than before, worry clear on his face.

You look down for a moment, smiling softly at the fact Neal wanted to know. That he wanted to keep you safe from things you'd escaped from years ago. That he probably wouldn't let you go until he knew how to help you.

"Spencer nearly died on a case about, uh, five and a half years ago now. After he got out of the hospital, we fought. I didn't want or like to see him like that, and after about two months of going back and forth on the issue, we broke up." You softly say, looking Neal in the eyes. "My whole support system was his team, and because I'd moved to D.C. after college and met Spencer through one of his coworkers, I decided to move here."

Neal nods in understanding ever so often as you talk, your sad eyes looking into his guilty ones.

He knew what you meant. Starting a new life in a different city could change everything for someone, even if it was only moving by a few small states. So, even if it meant not seeing you for most of the day on your day off, Neal wanted to keep you as safe as possible.

"Go home." Neal nearly whispered it was that quiet.

"What?" You ask, asserting your head to it's natural position.

"Go home. Prepare there and I'll check up on you during my lunch break." Neal said, now dragging you once again back to the elevators, before getting you both in one and taking you down to the ground floor.

As you both step out of the elevator you give Neal an 'are you sure?' look and he just nods his head, walking with you through the lobby and towards the entrance to the large FBI building.

Just before you leave, you do give Neal a kiss before walking off, concious in the back of your mind that he's probably waiting until you round the corner of the pavement before he goes back inside.

It was just coming up to 3 o'clock when you answered the door to your's and Neal's shared granny flat above June's.

And it was just coming up to 3 o'clock when you stared back at Spencer for the first time in 5 years.

You two stared at each other for a minute, Spencer faltering so badly in what would've been his usual ramblings about he and Derek, who was with him, being FBI and that they would like to ask you a few questions that Derek had to take over.

"Miss Y/l/n, would you be able to come down to the local FBI office to answer a few questions?" Derek finishes off, looking at you with his sunglasses still on as you stare back at him, hair in a messy bun with a hoodie and leggings replacing your work clothes from earlier this morning.

"Yeah, just let me grab my phone, keys and wallet and stick on my shoes and I'll be right with you." You say, sticking your trainers on haphazardly while you grab your wallet, keys and phone, shoving them in your pocket as you walk out the front door, locking it behind you.

As you walk into the White Collar unit, you can already feel Neal's eyes on you, but you don't dare to look at them as Derek and Spencer take you to an interrogation room where you're sat down and left again.

Not for long though.

The silence of the interrogation room was interrupted by Hotch walking in and holding a file, laying photos out in front of you and reading from the file himself.

"You work at a museum, correct?" Hotch asks as you blankly stare at him and the pictures.

"Yes. I do." You reply, keeping the blank stare.

"And there was recently a body of one of your coworkers found in your museum in a new exhibit that had been added that was covered in pig's blood." Hotch then asks, looking up this time, and gesturing to the pictures in front of you.

"Yes, there was. The body was found in the natural world gallery. I'm one of the curators of it." You reply, properly looking at the photos now, seeing someone you worked alongside, especially on that specific exhibit, dead in it, drenched in blood.

"Alright. Now, do you know of anyone acting suspiciously that could've had access to the new exhibit?" Hotch questions, trying to dig a bit deeper still.

Remembering something, you reply, "I think I do actually. One of the interns, Alexandra I think her name is? She's been asking questions recently about museum closing times, when night shift people change over and all that sort of stuff." You reply, a horrified look on your face this time.

"Thank you Miss Y/l/n, you have been very helpful and we'll look into this coworker of yours." Hotch says as she leaves the room and as he does, Spencer walks straight in while you're getting up from your chair.

"I know you left, but you didn't even send me a message saying you were getting married? What the hell Y/n?" Spencer asks, clearly jealous just by his demeanour and snippiness with you.

"Spencer, I don't want to talk just now. I want to go home and go to bed. Let's just leave us where we were when I left." You ask Spencer as he stands there stunned while you walk out of the room and it's not 5 seconds before Neal wraps you in his arms when you walk out of the interrogation room.

"Well done." Neal whispers as he places a kiss to your forehead, holding you as if you were about to break.

You hold on to Neal for dear life as you can feel a set of eyes burning into the back of your skull.

"Can we just go home?" You ask Neal after a while, lifting your head up as you do so to look at him, tears in your eyes.

"Peter said I could as soon as we watched the profilers bring you in." Neal said, and you both walked back home to June's where you spent the rest of the night in bed, not really caring about dinner, just cuddling and ignoring responsibilities for a while.

The next morning, you woke up to rainy weather and to find that Neal wasn't beside, but a note was trying and failing to replace his body heat.

Y/n/n,

I've gone to work and I've also called you in sick today. Will be back soon, probably with lunch, but Peter called and said I was working your profilers today.

Love you,

Neal x

You smiled at it, and tracing Neal's loopy handwriting as you read it.

Getting up, you went and took a shower before getting dressed and making yourself breakfast and as you sat and ate the omelet you had made yourself, you got a call from Peter and the only words you didn't want to hear, spilled from his mouth over the phone.

Neal had been shot.

Neal, for as long as anyone had known him, did not like guns, and would actively try to diffuse a situation if it rose to guns.

So, as Peter explained the situation, your mind jumped to the worst, was he dead? Did he at least make it to surgery? What if he went brain dead? All these thoughts rushing through your head, you only just caught Peter saying that Neal was shot in the abdomen, but would be fine by the looks of things.

With the fact that Neal was alive accompanying you, you ran out the house, adrenaline probably the reason you could still sprint after a few blocks in the pouring rain, only needing a short taxi ride to the hospital after most of the adrenaline wore off, not wanting to get completely soaked through. But as you walked into the waiting room and saw Peter, you hugged him, seeing the remnants of dried blood on his shirt that he'd clearly tried to hide from you.

You started to sob in his arms, soaking Peter's shirt with your wet clothes and your tears, not ready to nearly lose another boyfriend to his job.

"It's okay," Peter soothed, smoothing out your hair. "He's out of surgery now and sleeping. The doctors aren't letting us see him because he needs rest."

You lean back and dry your eyes at that, nodding as you do so.

"Say that Neal will be fine Y/n." Peter says, giving you a very dad-like look.

"Neal will be fine." You says back to Peter, sniffling while you do and with that Peter guides you to a seat as you wait for Neal to wake up.

It had felt like an age when the doctor had finally come through and told you that Neal had woken up as your clothes were nearly dry, and as you burst into Neal rooms, you felt happy tears cloud your eyes.

"Hi." You said from the doorway, tears in your eyes at the sight. The sight of your fiancé awake from surgery with a massive bandage around his middle.

"Hey." Neal replies, giving you his signature smirk. "How you doing?"

"I'm doing better now that you're awake. I heard you jumped in front of Spencer and took the bullet for him." You say as you walk into Neal's hospital room even further.

"I did. I'm sorry I scared you. I promise from now on, to not jump in front of people if they're being shot at." Neal says, taking your hand once you were in arms reach and as Peter chapped the door you both looked at him, and you smiled. You had Neal back.

"I'll let you two chat." You say, squeezing Neal's hand, and Peter gives you a thankful look as you walk out and go straight for the entrance, just to give yourself a breather, even if it was in the rain.

Unbeknownst to you for at least a little bit of time, some of the BAU were there as well, including Spencer, who had a scratched up arm and sprained wrist, but was overall fine because Neal took the bullet for him. He was following you outside and got the fright of his life when you turned around and nearly tackled him to the sodden ground.

Releasing him, you sighed, not wanting to waste to much of your life talking to this man.

"Spencer, why are you following me?" You ask, looking down at your feet and then back up at Spencer.

"Because, I want to know why the ex-convict is not getting broken up with over being shot, but I was. You moved out of D.C. because of me Y/n! You could at least tell me why he's being treated differently!" Spencer rages at you, and you are taken aback by how angry he got.

You shake your head, tears coming to your eyes once again and you finally let them spill, your voice shaky. "Because Spencer, Neal said he wouldn't go out of his way to get himself killed again when I told him I was worried. You brushed me off. You brushed me off and told me that it didn't matter because we all die anyway."

"Well, that makes all the difference doesn't it? What he promised, but I didn't. Y/n, that's the most ridiculous shit I've heard all day." Spencer snaps back and as you cry, you try swiping you under eyes of tears, but that doesn't stop the flow of tears as it comes along.

"I have no idea who this Spencer is, but this is not the fucker I know. You're jealous, Spence. And, I know that we used to be two lovers, but that was all we were and I have no idea who the hell we are now. Because we certainly aren't those two people we knew years ago." You say, holding your ground, making your voice sound stronger than it was. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I'm going back to my fiancé and leaving you here for your team deal with. Have a nice life Spencer."

And with that, you pushed your damp hair out of your face, swiped your eyes and walked back in, and leant against a wall close to Neal's room, holding your hands now over your eyes to try and stop the tears.

After a while if felt as if they had stopped and walked back into the room, to see Peter and Neal talking away animatedly. You felt at peace as you plonked yourself down on the bed beside Neal's legs and complete as you held his hand, reminding yourself about how you two first met and how everything happened pretty slowly to begin with.

So, you sat there, not interrupting Peter and Neal's conversation, but content knowing that the one person that had wormed their way into every aspect of your life once, was finally out and put in his place.

For good.

a/n: it's currently after 1am my time currently, so I'm going to bed, so goodnight! enjoy this! I certainly enjoyed writing it.

[itsthewritergal]

I’m in need of fluffy Bucky fics - pleaseeee send them to me??

[white-collar-lawmen-and-conmen]

Heaven Can Wait

Summary: Neal and Y/N Caffrey have an idyllic domestic life until a terrible accident threatens to rip it all away.

Words: 1,957

I can’t find it in my ask history but it was definitely requested.

            Some women dreamed of being stay-at-home mothers. It had been nice for a couple months, until the itch in your legs started and you couldn’t think straight. Before the kids were on solid foods, you were back at work, Neal taking over as a stay-at-home father. Truthfully, you considered as you cooked breakfast, this was probably the best solution for everyone. You made more and had more upward mobility, since you didn’t have a felony record. Still, you were glad that he was happy. Neal hadn’t struck you as a stay-at-home anything while you were dating, but he was an amazing father. It was as if the little ones you welcomed a year ago had cured his fear of staying put.

            Knox couldn’t get enough over-easy eggs, and Ellie seemed to think breakfast was for chumps. You looked over at them both after flipping the pancakes with a tender smile. Your son’s shirt had been on him for less than twenty minutes and it was already gross and smeared with egg yolk, while your daughter’s fingers were already covered in a thin layer of crayon wax. Ironically, the child who loved to make art wasn’t the one named after an artist.

            Neal came into the kitchen with fluffy, towel-ruffled hair, halfway through a yawn. “It smells delicious,” he said, predictably lured by scent straight to the still-hot coffee. He paused by the children to ruffle his son’s hair and kiss his daughter on her head.

            “Da,” Ellie complained about being distracted from her drawing.

            He chuckled before leaving them alone. “Do you want coffee, love?”

            “I assume you do want to eat today?” You checked rhetorically.

            Neal laughed again. “Got it.” He took down two mugs and started pouring one for each of you while you finished the pancakes and plated the scrambled eggs that were just for the two of you. “Same as usual today?”

            “I’ll be home by four,” you promised, reaching over and giving his free hand a little squeeze. As you did, you stole a quick look at the glinting silver band on his ring finger and smiled brightly at the sight of it, suddenly delightfully conscious of the weight of your own.

            “We can last until four,” Neal said, looking back over at the twins. You hadn’t been trying, exactly, but you hadn’t not been trying, and you’d both been thrilled by the news. Your son had been a surprise, but for however hectic life had been with two newborns, it was also that much more rewarding. “I think Ellie’s ready for watercolors, don’t you?”

            “Neal,” you said, giving him a playfully warning look. She’d barely stopped putting crayons in her mouth. Did he really want to start with thin wooden brushes? “Only if you’re careful,” you agreed, seeing the adorably pleading look in his big blue eyes.

            The two of you sat close together at the table, the side of your left leg touching his right one as you both ate, yourself in a rush with half your mind on the time. The pancakes were probably the best you’d made in a while, and Neal appreciatively thanked you for the meal with a kiss on the cheek right before letting you get up and take your plate to the sink.

            “I’ve got it,” he said before you could turn on the water. “Don’t worry about it. You have to go.”

            Smiling gratefully, you downed the rest of your coffee and put the mug down in the sink. “Thank you, darling,” you said, bending over the back of his chair to hug him tightly from behind. He raised a hand to stroke your arm and you kissed his temple before moving on to your little ones. Knox babbled at you a little, not quite ready to say “mama” yet, and Ellie only reluctantly turned her head to you long enough for a kiss before going back to her coloring. “I love you both,” you cooed, stroking her dark hair down the nape of her neck.

            “Love Ma,” Ellie said with a pout, the V coming out a little blunted.

            You grabbed your bag and took one last look at your little family around the table, thanking the stars that you’d been able to hold onto this wonderful man and that you’d been blessed with healthy, sweet children. Now you couldn’t imagine being anywhere else, and looked forward to every time you got to spend time together as a family. Then you were out the door before you got too emotional and went back in for a second round of hugs.

            The route to work was so familiar that you could probably have done it blindfolded, barring other pedestrians. You took the A train downtown and then went a few blocks eastward. Once out of the subway, you only had to walk for about four minutes to get to your job. It was a pretty convenient location and you liked that it was also near a few good restaurants and a pharmacy.

            You stopped at an intersection to wait to cross, the red hand blinking at you from across the street. The building was in sight, and your mind was transitioning into work mode. Already you were reviewing what you’d done the day prior and thinking over the next steps – what could you get done by lunch? The boss had been in an unusually lighthearted and laissez-faire mood lately, and you had no idea why, but it was nice to work at your own efficient pace without feeling heat at your heels-

            The light turned to the white walk sign. You stepped off the curb after checking the coast was clear and headed across the crosswalk. There was at least one pretty big thing that you could finish by the end of the day if you kept your foot on the gas. A loud screech and the blare of a horn made you turn your head around, but you barely had time to understand what you saw before the car slammed directly into your side and sent you flying away and to the ground.

~~~ Heaven Can Wait ~~~

            Neal had been mopping up the mess Ellie made when she knocked over the little water cup for painting when the phone rang. He couldn’t explain how, but he felt his stomach drop right in that moment. Something was deeply, horribly wrong. It took a beat for him to unfreeze his muscles and answer. The nurse making the call confirmed his bone-deep fear when she said she was at a hospital. He nearly threw up.

            Ellie was crying, and Knox not much better, only kept on this side of docile by a stuffed green monkey. He kept trying to shush Ellie on the subway because he knew people were giving them baleful stares, but his heart wasn’t in it. All he could think of were horrible, unwanted images of his wife laying lifelessly on a stretcher. A car accident. Jesus, what were the odds when you didn’t even drive? Neal kept running his paint-stained hand through his hair, and on occasion bent down over the handles of the twin stroller as his breath hitched to force himself to keep calm for his kids.

            He got looks for bringing two babies to the emergency ward, but didn’t bother trying to explain himself, and when he said your name in an urgent panic, the irritable gaze of the receptionist softened a touch. A nurse was paged. They said words he didn’t understand and a few he did that he wished he didn’t, and finished by pointing him to chairs to wait. His knees nearly buckled as he found a place to sit, the stroller just in front of him.

            Transverse fracture. Fractured hip. Two broken ribs. Internal bleeding.

            Severe head trauma.

            A woman in scrubs came into the room, but not from the direction of the operating theaters. Neal looked up with red-rimmed eyes at the cop, at first not understanding what was happening as the nurse directed the policeman towards him. He distractedly started to push the stroller a few inches back and forth, keeping Knox as calm as he could in the foreign environment with his father so clearly distressed. Ellie, thankfully, had gone to sleep after tiring herself out with tears.

            The policeman explained, briefly, what had happened and gave him papers. A man ran the red light to turn and claimed he hadn’t seen you until it was too late. He said he laid on the horn but you didn’t move. A fury started to bubble in his chest at that, burning brighter than any rage he’d felt since confronting Fowler at the Russian Consulate. He knew damn well that his wife hadn’t just not moved. You hadn’t been given a chance. That pathetic, bullshit excuse ensured Neal would be going after his blood however he could – as soon as his family was taken care of.

            Next of kin notified, and a copy of the incident papers and contact information given, the policeman gave his token condolences with a sympathetic glance at the twins in their stroller. Neal didn’t read the papers. He knew he’d do something stupid if he had the man’s identifying information. Instead he stuffed them into the empty pocket of the babies’ diaper bag in the bottom tray of the stroller.

            It felt like it took hours before he was finally called back to see his wife. A nurse offered to stay with the stroller, but Neal couldn’t bear losing track of his children while he was so affected by nearly losing his partner and refused. She didn’t press, and instead led the three of them down a few halls and to a room with low lights. She held the door for Neal to push the twins inside, and he leaned heavily on the handles as he saw you, the love of his life, lying broken in the bed. The thin blankets laid awkwardly over bulky bandages and a cast around your left arm. Part of your head was wrapped tightly, and as nausea turned his stomach, he couldn’t bring himself to ask yet exactly why. Half of your face was scraped to hell and purple and black bruising had already spread deeply across your cheek.

             “She’s stable,” the nurse said, her eyes looking briefly to his violently shaking hands. She was just repeating what she’d already said now.

            Neal moved the stroller to the side of the bed so that when you woke up you’d be able to see your kids right away. He cautiously bent over the side of the bed, hovering his hand gingerly over the mostly unharmed side of your face. “Y/N,” he whispered, his sight blurring briefly before he blinked and let the tears start to fall.

            You didn’t stir.

            “Sir,” the nurse said softly, about to repeat herself again. “Y/N is in a medically-induced coma.”

All the cautions in the world couldn’t have reached his brain in the waiting room, when all he could hear was his heartbeat and blood rushing in his ears, desperate to see with his own eyes. Neal furrowed his eyebrows, trying to tune her out, hoping not to hear. He couldn’t hear it again. He was barely holding on, barely telling himself over and over again that you were okay now, that your mangled body wasn’t dead before him.

            It was a few minutes before it really hit him that, wherever he put the kids, however gently he touched you, whatever he said to plead with you to wake up and tell him yourself that you were okay – you weren’t going to wake up. And, if he was deeply, devastatingly unlucky, you might never wake up again.

[take-it-on-the-run]

I need a guy that I love more than the fictional ones. Until then I will remain pining over non-existent men on Tumblr.

[sonufabitchhhhh]

You Were My Oppressor, But Now You Are My Handler

- Matthew Keller x Reader (White Collar)

Chapter 1: The Best First Impressions, the Worst of Intentions

Masterlist

Y/n walked out of the elevator that morning with an air of confidence that was only slightly faked, Matthew Keller right on her heals. Y/n knew she needed Keller to know that she was in charge and that he wouldn't be able to pull a fast one on her, so she let her slight insecurities about being his handler slip to the back of her mind.

It was a small comfort to her to see that Keller also seemed a little unsure in his new environment; even if he hid it well, y/n could see he was a little insecure too.

He seemed to relax, however, upon seeing Neal. He stalked over to Neal's desk with a grin, heading over to make some biting remark, no doubt. "So Caffrey, not the only criminal in the feds domain anymore... must be killing you to see me here!"

Seeing the stony look on Neal's face, y/n stepped in before the situation escalated. "Keller! My office! You're here to help, not torment Neal." She spoke in a commanding tone, and walked off towards her office, not waiting to see if he was following. Sure enough though, he was trailing along behind her with a dragged out sigh.

-

After an hour or so of pouring over y/n's latest case, Keller had proven himself to be quite useful, providing insight and information that gave them a new perspective on the case.

Keller seemed genuinely interested in helping, and y/n recalled Peter and Neal's advise. Was Keller as interested as he seemed, or was he working some angle that y/n couldn't see yet? So far he'd been patient, keen to learn the ropes, and had given good input - but was it all just a cover for an ulterior motive?

She decided that if Keller was truly attempting to reform, he'd prove himself over time, not in a day. As Peter said, 'guilty until proven innocent'.

"Hey, I think I found that pattern you were looking for in that Sturges case!" Keller looked up from his desk as y/n passed by, bright eyed and apparently eager to please. Neal sat a desk over and also seemed cautious about Keller's behaviour.

"Huh. Nice work Keller. You ready to go see what Sturges has to stay?" Y/n asked, pleasant enough but not overly sweet; she didn't want to praise him too much and let him think he's got it easy.

Keller nodded and the two headed out the building to her car, getting ready to interrogate their suspect.

-

On the way to their suspect's home, y/n and Keller were quiet. It wasn't a comfortable silence though. It was the kind where both were itching to say something just to end the suffocating lack of conversation, and yet neither knew what to say.

They didn't know each other well. In fact, they'd only met once before. Y/n had been on the task force that had put Keller in prison, but they hadn't actually met during that instance. They did, however, meet a week ago - y/n had visited Keller in prison to talk to him about being his handler and all that their relationship would entail.

It was a short meeting, and now that they're spending more time together, they were at a loss on what to talk about.

"So, uhh-,"

"What's-,"

Both seemingly had the same idea and started to speak at the same time. A little flustered, and laughing awkwardly, they tried to start again.

"No, no, you go first!" Keller insisted despite y/n's protests.

"Oh, I was just going to ask how you're liking your first day on the job! Y'know, enjoying being out of prison?" Y/n asked hesitantly. She didn't want to bring up a potentially sore topic, and was still a little suspicious about Keller being so complacent thus far.

"Oh, it's nice. I'm a free- well, semi-free man! Gotta like that." He answered simply, and the silence became tangible again. After another beat of awkward silence, he continued. "Y'know, I was just gonna say, it's not too bad being with the feds. I mean, it could be worse at least."

"Yeah. Well that's good! I'm glad you're settling in a bit."

Both let the silence sink in again, this time resigning to let it stew until it was time to leave the car. It seemed the pair had a lot to learn about each other, and we're far from partners yet. They'd get there though.

-

A/N: so, this is the first official chapter! I hope you're enjoying the story so far, this part was mostly focused on what y/n and Keller's relationship is currently - which is to say it isn't much of a relationship yet! Anyway, hope you're enjoying, let me know any story suggestions in the comments!

Hope you have a great day/night,

~ SonofaBeach

[middnightlight]

Without Words | Neal Caffrey x Reader

AN: I know that technically what I wrote is nothing like the summary, but we’re going to ignore that 😗 and Neal is a little OC but we’re rolling with it

It was no secret that Neal was a flirt and he took great pleasure in being known for it. There wasn’t a girl in town that didn’t fall for his charms. He would walk up to her, say some pretty lines, and *boom* the girl was on her knees before she even knew what hit her. It would work every time without fail.

Well, almost every time.

~~~~~~~~~~~~

It had been a great day. The office had finally gotten an espresso machine, which meant that he could have his favorite coffee at his desk instead of that horrible black coffee that Peter always liked.

A case had been solved and the bad guy was arrested, and to top it off, a lost painting had been recovered and it was gorgeous.

Then the girl walked in and it all went to crap.

See, the girl was a beauty. The hair, the clothes, hell her smile. Her smile was the best thing Neal had seen in his life, and apparently, the only thing he was able to focus on (thankfully, Neal was sitting down or else he would’ve fallen straight to the floor).

She walked in and walked towards his desk. “Hi, I’m looking for someone and I was wondering if you could help me?” she asked him, but Neal just stared. “Um, excuse me? Hello?” she waved her hand in front of his face, still thinking about her smile. She mentally groaned. The only thing I wanted to do was find Peter and tell him the good news and I get stuck with a stupid agent.

Peter suddenly walked in and saw her. “Oh! (y/n), you’re here!” She turned around to see Peter walking toward her. “Peter!” She ran towards him and hugged him.

“Woah, (y/n) try not to tackle me to the floor now! What brings you around? I thought you were working in Philidelphia.”

(y/n) nervously laughed. “Well, I was and I’m still working, but I got transferred.”

“Oh, where to?”

“New York.”

This caused Neal to snap out of his daydream. “You’re gonna be working in New York?”

y/n scoffed. “Oh look, he finally snapped out of his daydream.”

Peter quietly laughed. “Ignore him. It would make life a lot easier for you,” he said while Neal pouted at the quip.

“I think that’s gonna be a problem, Peter.” She smiled again and Neal was sure that his heart skipped a beat.

He furrowed his brows. “What do you mean?”

She gestured to herself, saying “I’m gonna be working here,” and then to Peter, “ in your unit.”

Peter smiled. “I should’ve known that transfer was you. Well, welcome to the team, and here’s your first assignment: don’t date Neal. His love life hasn’t exactly been…simple,” he added jokingly.

“That certainly won’t be a problem, Peter.” She looked at Neal and he looked like his puppy just died. “At least for me it won’t be a problem. Don’t know about Pretty Boy over here.”

She glanced between Peter and Neal. “So I guess I’ll see you tomorrow. Bye Peter! Bye Pretty Boy!” she said and exited the office.

“She called me pretty,” Neal said dreamily.

Peter raised his eyebrow. “Seriously Caffrey?”

[ginevranights]

Hi, just had a really long week and I wanna see something happy for once... the Rose is one of my favorite fics, so if it doesn't bother you, can I have a happy ending?

I am absolutely so sorry I never responded to this. It has been a MONTH.

I'm so sorry you had a bad week, and I hope things are going better for you now.

I can tell you the plan I had for a happy ending if you'd like? Basically, the idea was just a short little scene where, after Neal fakes his death and lives in Paris, he goes to where he met the reader, and she appears from the balcony.

"You're supposed to be dead,"

And then just a cute little scene, lots of flirting y'know.

[reids-rendering-reality]

Criminal Collar

Summary: Spencer meets Y/N’s ex-boyfriend and renowned criminal consultant for the White Collar Crime Unit of the FBI, Neal Caffrey.

(A/N: this is a cross-over between White Collar and Criminal Minds. There are no spoilers for WC and you don’t need to have watched it to read this. Also, I know I made Neal a little meaner than he is, but it fits better with my storyline oops)

Type: angst, with the end being fluffy and a little smutty

Warnings: mentions of criminal activity, insecurity, jealousy, making out

Word Count: 2.4K

Reader’s POV

I joined the BAU about one and a half years ago, after leaving the White Collar Crime Unit of the FBI. Honestly, I was kind of glad when Strauss requested my transfer and my new team suits me way better. Especially because I’ve started dating Dr. Spencer Reid 6 months ago and he makes me really happy. However, I guess luck wasn’t on my side this week.

Like it always is when things like this happen, it was a regular day at the FBI. I was working on some paperwork at my desk before JJ would brief us on the new case in half an hour. That was when Hotch appeared from his office.

“Y/L/N, can you come into my office?” he said looking down at me into the bullpen. When I just looked up at him confused for a moment, he continued “now, please.”

I got up slowly, exchanging a few worried glances with Spencer before walking into his office.

“Agent Burke from the White Collar unit has requested you to go downstairs and consult on a case,” Hotch said in his typical ultra-serious voice.

“Do you know what case this is? I am working on this team now,” I said, a little worried that I would have to return to the WCU.

“I don’t know. But don’t worry, you won’t be transferred again. Head down now, we’re leaving in an hour. Spencer will brief the case to you on the jet,” he said while mustering my anxious stance.

When I returned to the bullpen, I quickly organised my desk so that I could leave for the jet right away.

“What did he want?” Spencer asked, suddenly standing next to me which made me jump a little.

“WCU needs a consult on a case, but I’ll be back in time for take-off,” I said, avoiding his eyes and getting ready to leave for the elevator.

I walked past Spencer and didn’t turn around once, but I could feel his eyes on the back of my head. Not only his though, I felt the entire team stare me down as I disappeared into the hall.

 The rest of the week was relatively eventless – for the BAU at least. I gave Burke his consult on the case and headed to Texas with the others. The case was not too difficult or straining.

When we returned to the office, it wasn’t even late. It was midday, and everyone was chattering about happily in the elevator. But when the elevator doors opened, the mood shifted completely. Right there, in the bullpen, sitting at my desk, I saw a figure in a black fedora. My breath hitched and I could feel Spencer look over at me. When we exited the elevator, the figure turned around and revealed his face.

“Is that-“ Morgan began baffled.

“Neal Caffrey,” I finished a clear sour undertone to my voice. Both Morgan and Spencer looked at me weirdly. It was unusual for me to talk in this way, I don’t think they have ever heard it before.

I pushed open the glass doors and hurried away from the others towards the man sitting at my desk.

“Y/N/N! So nice to see you again,” he grinned up at me as I approached him. I could still feel the four pairs of eyes burning into the back of my head.

“Neal, what are you doing here?” I said, my voice even more furious than before. At the same time, my mind was racing about how I would explain all of this to Spencer and the others later.

“Can’t we just talk like we used to? I saw you in Burke’s office on Monday,” he said, still grinning and making no move to get out of the chair.

“Fine, come with me,” I walked away towards the conference room, hearing him following behind me in his typically slow and casual stride.

 Spencer’s POV

I felt my jaw being open during their entire interaction and quickly shut it as they entered the conference room.

“What was that all about?” Prentiss asked curiously.

“That’s Neal Caffrey, the criminal consultant down at the-“ I began to explain almost automatically.

“I know who he is, but how does he know Y/N and why is he here?” Prentiss interrupted me.

“Well, Y/N worked down at the WCU before she was transferred here. I heard a rumour from a friend that works there. Apparently, Y/N was dating him during her time there and when a case ended badly for them, they suspected that she couldn’t work there with him anymore. He did some scandalous things that not only endangered the reputation of their entire team, but also the entire FBI. Some say, Y/N was in on it and didn’t tell anyone. But after a couple of examinations, she was transferred here instead because Strauss thinks she’s invaluable to the FBI,” JJ explained to all of us.

“She dated a criminal? Damn, I never would’ve expected that from her,” Derek said and looked up to the conference room and then said a little more quietly, “quite a change in her type since she came here.”

I looked at him incredulously, before looking at my hands and fidgeting with them.

“Did you know about this, Reid?” Prentiss asked me.

“Me?” I looked up again, “What- uh- no, of course not!”

“How did you not know that your girlfriend’s ex-boyfriend is one of the most famous white-collar criminals?” Morgan asked.

“We haven’t really talked about that stuff,” I said quietly, “it’s not like I would’ve had anything to share.”

“So you’re telling me, you’ve never had the uncomfortable talk about exes with her? For a genius, you do not have a lot of experience with relationships,” Prentiss said, her tone almost joking.

“What do you think they’re talking about in there?” I tried to deflect the topic of conversation away from me while looking up at the conference room, where Neal was just closing the blinds.

 Reader’s POV

“So, why did you come here?” I asked, closing the door to the conference room behind me as Neal looked around.

“Surely you miss the WCU. This place is dark and gloomy. The cases are grim and the undercover operations aren’t nearly as glamorous. Plus, I’m not there,” he grinned at me. I couldn’t help but chuckle at his attempt at flirting with me.

“Cut the crap, I left the WCU for a reason. Don’t make me ask again: why are you here?” I could feel my annoyance rise.

“I’m here because of you. I just want to talk to you. We haven’t seen each other in so long, I wanted to catch up a little,” he paused, walking around the table, “you can’t tell me you haven’t missed me.”

“I haven’t,” I said.

Before I could continue to speak, Neal continued, “right. Like I would believe that,” he looked out the window into the bullpen where the team was standing, trying not to stare too obviously, “but then again, here’s that lanky boy. He keeps looking at you in a certain way. Is he your boyfriend?”

Neal glanced at me for a moment, before turning his attention back to the window and closing the blinds with a bright grin.

“That’s none of your business. My life is none of your business anymore. You put me in so much danger without even caring about the consequences. That’s why I transferred here. So please, just leave me alone.”

He now walked over me in casual strides. I mustered him, the memories resurfacing at the sight of him in that typical classy Italian suit, with a pin on his tie. He was always dressed so properly. But the way he behaved was just the opposite. Yet, a tiny little part of me looked at him and saw that attractive man that I had fallen in love with over the years working with him.

He stopped when he was standing right in front of me, brushing a strand of hair out of my face.

“Y/N, don’t you think it’s time to let that go? That was such a long time ago.. I’ve changed, you know?” he looked into my eyes with a sincerity that I would’ve believed one and a half years ago. But working at the BAU taught me a lot about reading people, seeing typical communication and manipulation strategies. I wasn’t falling for his lies anymore.

“Is that all you came here for, Neal? Trying to get me back? Because I won’t ever go back to you. I’ve moved on and I realised that dating you, to begin with, was a huge mistake,” I said with the most confident tone I could muster.

That last part wasn’t entirely true. While he did hurt me, my reputation, and everything I stood for repeatedly, he still was a part of me. We had been in a relationship for years. There were so many good times that I had to let go for my well-being.

To be convincing with my words, I walked past him, towards the door, “it’s time for you to leave.”

After a little bickering back and forth, he finally walked out of the BAU. I could see that the team had left, only Spencer was still sitting at his desk, working on some paperwork. He was waiting for me to go home together, just like always. The sight warmed my heart; Spencer was so good to me.

But of course, Neal wouldn’t just leave without a bang. Walking past Spencer’s desk, he stopped for a second and said, “take care of her. She obviously needs you to get over me.”

Spencer looked up at him with wide eyes as he spoke and didn’t even respond before Neal had left into the elevator. Spencer turned his head and looked up at me.

 We were on the way home to my apartment, just like always when we returned from a case. We sat there in silence, Spencer’s eyes focused intensely on the road as he was driving.

“Spencer?” I asked softly looking over at him. He just gave a tight-lipped hum in response.

“Can we talk? I assume you have questions, but you haven’t said anything yet.”

He cleared his voice before responding calmly and quietly, “I just didn’t want to discuss it at the office. There isn’t anything to talk about. I know about one of your exes now.”

“But what he said to you. And everything. It must-“ I huffed, “you look like it bothers you. Don’t you want to share what you’re feeling? Maybe I can help you process.”

Spencer gave me a quick glance, seemingly ignoring my concerned face with a cold expression.

“What do you want to hear? Do you want to hear how I keep thinking I’m not good enough for you, regardless of what happened today? How that just made me feel worse? Do you want to hear about how embarrassed I was when JJ told us that he is your ex-boyfriend and I, your current boyfriend, didn’t even know about it? Do you want to know about all the other things I’m imagining you hiding from me? How my mind is racing with all my insecurities that you already know about because I tell you things that bother me while you don’t?” he said, his voice getting louder and louder with each question while his grip on the steering wheel tightened.

“Do you want to know about how Morgan even commented on the fact that he is so different from me and your type has changed a lot? How do you think all that makes me feel? When it isn’t coming from you?” he continued angrily.

I didn’t know what to say. To be honest, I was a little speechless. I thought it would bother him, but not like this.

“See? That’s why I didn’t want to open up. It’s not like you have anything to say about it anyway,” he said, his tone ice-cold.

The rest of the car ride was silent. My mind was racing with things I could respond to him, but nothing came to mind. When we arrived at my apartment, I was surprised that he parked the car. I had assumed that after that speech he would just drop me off and go home alone.

Before I could move, Spencer had turned towards me and taken my hand into his gently.

“Can I come inside?” he asked softly, his demeanour completely different from before.

“Yes, of course, Spence,” I replied gently.

Upstairs in my apartment, we sat on the couch together.

“I’m sorry for snapping at you earlier. I’m just really bothered by it. He is everything I’m not. He is attractive, charming, has a good style, and even just muscles. He is-“ Spencer began, but I cut him off.

“and he is a criminal. Listen, Spence, I completely understand how you feel. But, behind his attractive mask, there is so much more, that just isn’t attractive. To me, his personality wasn’t attractive. He didn’t treat me well and only cared about himself. He only cared about the lifestyle he wanted to lead and he could never let go of his criminal past.”

Spencer just looked up at me from his hunched position with his big brown puppy eyes.

“Plus, just because he is attractive doesn’t mean you’re not. God, I think you’re so hot. Your face, your hair, those sweater vests. You’re completely different from him, but that doesn’t mean you aren’t attractive. And when you use that big brain of yours to solve cases and explain things, that no one else knows and that most people don’t even understand. I think you’re incredibly attractive. And your intelligence is very charming, and-,” I began to ramble about all the things I loved about him.

But before I could continue speaking he had grabbed my face and kissed me on the lips passionately. His lips moved against mine, as his hands entangled in my hair. I almost moaned into his mouth as his tongue found mine and my hands reached for the back of his neck.

When we pulled apart, he was breathless and said with a slight pant, “so you think I’m really hot, huh?”

And I didn’t know how to respond to that in any other way than to just slip onto his lap and kiss him again.

[cas-kingdom]

Bad Blood

A/N: Set towards the end of season 3. 

Title: Bad Blood

Summary: After Peter discovers Neal stole the ship’s treasure, you’re worried he’ll be mad at you for keeping the secret.

Words: 2310

The problem with loving your brother so much you couldn’t possibly do something to put him in jail, despite your personal opinions, is that it puts you in an awkward position.

You had never had that problem. From the age of three, you’d gone everywhere with Neal. You’d grown up among thieves and criminals, and that’d been all you’d known. Until Neal was caught, and you’d lived a more subdued life for four years, learning things and picking up what it meant to have a normal life. You’d grown your own opinions, stemming from the simplest of things, and slowly come to realise that there was a life outside your brother’s antics.

Maybe that was why Neal hadn’t told you about the treasure. Perhaps he’d thought you might tell Peter. He should have known, though, that you’d never do that. So, more plausibly, maybe he’d simply wanted to keep you safe. Maybe he hadn’t wanted to put you in that kind of position – stuck between him and Peter. He’d been doing that a lot in the year and a bit he’d been out of jail; keeping secrets, only letting you in on what he thought you needed to know. It was a swerve in your relationship, and it was constantly hitting obstacles.

Peter had taken you aside a while after the fire and asked you if Neal had stolen the treasure. You could still remember the flurry of emotions that had hit you then.

“I need to know,” Peter said. His voice was gentle. He was leaning on his forearms, staring at you from his place behind his desk. His eyebrows were raised, and you would have squirmed uncomfortably if you knew what he was talking about.

You sputtered for a moment, glancing down at the floor, before shaking your head and looking back up at him. “Neal?” you asked. “You- you think Neal stole the treasure?” Peter lifted his chin and leaned back against his seat. “I thought it was all lost in the fire.”

Peter sighed. “We did, too,” he said. “But… we found something that leads us to think otherwise.”

Your frown deepened. You turned your head, just about seeing Neal immersed in conversation with Jones. He glanced up for a moment, your eyes meeting, and he gave you a questioning look. You bit the inside of your cheek and turned back around to look at Peter, who was watching you intently.

“I don’t know, Peter,” you said honestly.

Peter nodded. “If you did…” He tilted his head a little. “Would you tell me?”

It wasn’t an interrogative look that he was giving you. He loved you. Every moment he was with you was spent treating you as his own. But that love included protecting you, even from your brother, and he wanted – needed – to be sure that you weren’t withholding anything from him that could put you behind bars, because he knew he’d rather be behind them himself than let you go.

You bit your lip, absently fidgeting with your fingers. You glanced up and shrugged.

Peter nodded slowly. “Alright,” he said. He couldn’t say he hadn’t expected that response. He drew in a deep breath and stood up, rounding the desk. He leant down and pressed a kiss to the top of your head. “As long as you’re safe, kid. That’s all I ask. Don’t get yourself caught in something I can’t get you out of. And… try get that in your brother’s head, too. You know where I am if you need me.”

Really, it should’ve been obvious to you that Neal had stolen it. You hadn’t wanted it to be – it was for that reason you’d never told Neal that Peter had even asked you about it – but you knew the man better than you knew anyone and anything. If the opportunity was presented, he would grab it up.

You’d cried after overhearing Neal and Mozzie discussing the treasure. They’d been quiet, whispering among themselves, and Neal should have known really that you wouldn’t have been asleep. He’d heard you sob, your pillow over your head, and got up from his chair so fast he’d knocked it over. Eyes wide, heart pumping, mind whirring, he’d slid into the bed beside you. You’d pushed him away, but he’d stayed, he always stayed, and he’d slept with you until morning, your back to him, his hand on your shoulder. You hadn’t talked about it the next day, and you’d been blunt with him since. You figured he’d worried you would tell.

“You have the treasure!”

You could hear Peter’s words. You’d been sat at the table when he’d come in, telling them Elizabeth had been taken, and you’d decided then and there that if Neal didn’t tell him, you would. Thankfully, you hadn’t had to, but the look Peter had given you after that had seared into your brain, and you hadn’t been yourself since. So, the moment Neal had been cleared – officially, anyway – you’d ached to speak to the agent.

“Peter, can we talk?”

It was a Sunday, and you, Mozzie and Neal were at Peter and Elizabeth’s for lunch. There was a sense of normality around Sunday lunch at the Burkes’. A familiarity that you had been terrified you’d lost for a moment back then.

Elizabeth and Neal were sitting outside, the both of them laughing about something or other, and Mozzie was sleeping on the deck chair he’d brought from June’s – nobody was sure why and nobody had bothered to ask. He was Mozzie, after all. You had been putting the plates away, Satchmo your shadow, and Peter had followed close behind, that smile on his face which told you he was happy. You didn’t really want that smile to disappear, and you knew he probably didn’t have anything to talk to you about, you were just being paranoid, but it would make you feel better, and you were too selfish to let that pass.

Peter glanced over his shoulder as you leaned against the kitchen counter. He nodded. “Sure,” he said, shutting the dishwasher. He turned around and crossed his arms, a look of slight intrigue crossing his face. “What is it?”

You swallowed, rolling your shoulders a little. You saw Satchmo nudge your hand with his wet nose and felt all the better for it. “I don’t…” you started, before feeling the lump in your throat stop your words. Peter, ever the concerned stand-in parent, moved forward immediately, his eyebrows furrowing together, those frown lines creasing his forehead. He stopped beside you, not wanting to invade your privacy yet needing to be there for you all the same, despite his not knowing what it was you wished to say.

He was a patient man, and so he merely stood beside you for a moment, waiting for you to speak up again. The open door was letting in the fresh breeze, the sound of Elizabeth and Neal’s laughter wafting in through it. It was the perfect day.

“I don’t want there to be any bad blood between us,” you said eventually, in a voice softer than Peter ever believed he’d heard.

He took a little while to mull your words over, staring fixedly at a spot on the floor. He shook his head as though preparing his words. “There isn’t any,” he said after a small moment, tilting his head to look down at you. When you didn’t reply, your hand on top of Satchmo’s head, he darkened his frown. “Hey,” he said, almost as softly as you. He pushed himself from the counter to move partly in front of you, taking your hands into his and waiting for you to meet his gaze. “What makes you think that?”

You swallowed again, foolishly feeling tears in the corner of your eyes. “I knew about the treasure.”

Peter made a face of realisation immediately. He squeezed your hands. “You knew about it after I asked about it,” he reassured you, shaking you a little, “you’re fine. I’m fine. We’re fine.”

“Well, I should’ve told you anyway,” you said, sniffling. “I should’ve told you the moment I found out. That’s withholding evidence… or something.”

Peter huffed a short laugh, releasing your hands only to pull you against his chest in a strong hug. “Your mind’s been working on this one for a while, huh?” he said gently, rubbing his hand up and down your back. You rested against him, eyes staring blankly ahead, lips trembling as you tried to hold the tears back. You felt Peter rest his chin on the top of your head. “I’m telling you, kid,” he said, “there’s nothing bad between us. You didn’t know about the treasure when I asked, and you said you didn’t know whether or not you’d tell me if the odd chance you found out later came up. I accepted that. That’s all that matters.” He turned his head a little, looking into the garden. As he’d expected really, Neal was craning his neck, eyes concerned even from this far away. He rose a dark brow, a silent question passing between them, and Peter nodded his head once, causing the younger man to reluctantly turn back to his conversation with Elizabeth.

Peter imagined it was difficult for both you and Neal to have someone like him in your lives. It’d always been you for a long, long while, and allowing someone in, opening up to that person like you had, was something he felt almost honoured for. Holding you in his arms like this, feeling your hands grip his shirt and your head all but bury in his chest, simply because you were worried he was upset with you, made him feel something indescribable. It was a good feeling, though. The feeling he felt when Neal did as he was told without argument, and called him his friend, and just came into work that morning because he’d decided it wasn’t the day to cut his anklet and run.

Things had changed for the Caffreys. He hadn’t known you at all before a year and a bit ago, but even he could tell that. You were letting people in. Trusting people besides yourselves and each other.

He pat you on the back and pulled away from you a little, gently putting a finger under your chin. “I don’t blame you for wanting to keep Neal safe,” he assured you. “I know it was difficult enough to keep it a secret after you found out.”

You nodded, sniffling a little. Of course it’d been difficult. It’d been the reason you’d cried yourself to sleep that night. You hadn’t wanted the task of having to make a decision, and you were only grateful – and relieved, more than anything – that you hadn’t had to.

“I think...” You glanced down for a second, glassy eyes meeting the soft brown ones of Satchmo. “I think I would’ve told you eventually.”

Peter wasn’t sure if he was surprised at that revelation. He lifted his chin a little, dropping his finger from yours. "Really?"

"Somebody would have found out in the end,” you told him. “Better it be you. You’re the only person who cares about Neal enough to fight for him.”

Peter regarded you carefully, watching as you shuffled your feet and chewed anxiously at the inside of your cheek. He hadn’t really thought about it in that way before, but now you’d mentioned it, he could see it.

It was true, what you’d said. Mozzie and Neal’s treasure-hiding hadn’t been the smartest. There’d been enough leads to have found it eventually, and definitely enough to drive whoever was following those leads to them. Those people would not have been so lenient. They wouldn’t have understood Neal’s (partly) turned over leaf. They wouldn’t have understood his kindness, and his compassion, and his general humanity. And they definitely wouldn’t have understood his need to stay in front of the bars if only to keep Y/N happy.

Peter understood it all and more. If you had told him about the treasure before he – and Keller – had found out about it himself, he doubtlessly, with a small amount of consideration and hesitation, would have decided on some way or another to give Neal the lowest possible amount of punishment he could receive for a crime such as this. He wouldn’t have thrown the guy in jail and left you without your brother for another few years of your life, and New York without Neal.

He loved you both too much to do that to either of you, or to him.

“Yeah,” he said eventually, a little distant in his tone. He looked back out at the garden, Neal’s grin threatening to split his face as he laughed along with Elizabeth. Though Peter could still see his aching need to get up and ask what he and you were talking about. That was Neal Caffrey. The first responder to all his little sister’s life choices. All except some, Peter decided, and he didn’t half mind that.

He turned back to you and gave you a smile, letting it widen as you responded with your own, half genuine one. “You’re a good girl, sweetheart,” he said quietly, “and you help me keep that man within his limitations better than anyone. Make sure you talk to him. I’m getting a little tired seeing those puppy dog eyes every day.” Your chest heaved with a breath of amusement at that, and he counted it as a victory as he pulled you towards him once more. “The only way there could be any bad blood between us is if you killed Satchmo. Or Elizabeth. Or me. Now, go out and ask the beauty, the criminal, and the winter sunbather if they want cheesecake or profiteroles for dessert.”

[allofmytoxicity]

White Collar Masterlist

Read this to find out who else I write for, and requests are open!

Not what you were looking for? Go back!

Pretty Slowly (Neal Caffrey x reader and Spencer Reid x ex!reader) - It's been five years since you left D.C., so what happens when your past comes back to haunt you.

Read this to find out who else I write for, and requests are open!

Not what you were looking for? Go back!

[justnerdystuffs]

So ummm I'm calling the White Collar fandom for a sec! Would you read any of the following ideas?

Neal x Artist OC

Neal x FBI! OC with a colourful past

Undercover! Neal x Undercover! OC, like, they're both undercover for different agencies and try to use the other to take some big boss down

Neal x OC fluff with just fluffy playfulness and sweet moments?

Any combination of the above?

I'm indescisve as all hell so please give me any feedback you're willing and able to🙏🙏🙏

[spinsterlocity-writes]

The Swing of Things

Neal Caffrey x Female Reader

Summary - You and Neal go undercover can you keep it together and not derail the operation.

Word Count - 2,091 words

Warnings - crime, talk of threesomes, unrealistic depiction of FBI procedure and gadgets.

A/N - My best friend, @widdershinny wanted a Neal Caffrey fic for her birthday!

You were sitting at your desk trying to go through some numbers on a mortgage fraud case when you heard the tell tale signs of Neal being bored. Sitting next to Neal was usually fun. He was entertaining and sneaking glances at him throughout the day wasn’t a bad way to pass the time and made your crush on him grow a little each day. The only time sitting near him wasn’t fun was when he was bored, he had the tendency to sulk or or fidget.

The constant snap of Neal picking at his impressive rubber band ball was slowly driving you insane.

“Neal!” You ground out. “Will you stop that, please. I’m trying to concentrate.”

“Sorry, I’m just so bored,” he sighed. 

“Wanna help me with this mortgage fraud case?” You asked hopefully. 

“I’m not that bored,” he replied with his nose scrunched up. 

Peter called you and Neal from the front of his office.

“Looks like we have a case, you might be saved from your soul crushing boredom, Caffrey.” You smiled and patted his shoulder. 

“Let’s hope it’s interesting,” he grinned. 

Jones, Diana, and a few other agents were already in the conference room when you arrived with Neal. The grins on Diana and Jones’ faces made you suspicious. You took a seat next to Jones and Neal sat on the window sill close to Peter. 

“What’s with the face?” You whispered to Jones.

“Oh, you’re going to love this,” he said, trying his best not to laugh. 

“Okay. Neal and Y/N we need your help with a case.” Peter said making his way to the tv screen where a pictures of a woman and a man were displayed. 

“This is Miranda Digby and her boyfriend Stephen Arthur,” Peter said. 

“Never trust a man with two first names,” Neal deadpanned and you chuckled. 

“They’re responsible for blackmailing couples at their swingers club,” Peter continued. 

“They get their targets to agree to pay to spend a night with them. When the couples refuse they threaten to post their interest in illicit activities to their social media accounts and inform their employers. They get this information by hacking their victims’ phones while propositioning them. Y/N and Neal, we need you to pose as a couple and get them to make you their next targets,” he concluded. 

You coughed as you choked on your spit. “What?!” You asked as you patted your chest, ignoring Jones’ chuckles. 

Peter rubbed his forehead and said, “You guys are the only members of the team they haven’t seen. Diana and Jones are already so-called members but Miranda and Stephen didn’t take to them and the agents they were with.”

“You have my sympathies, Y/N. I had to flirt with Caffrey for a case,” she said with a smirk. 

“You wound me,” Neal said, placing his hand on his heart. 

“We can’t do this without you guys,” Peter said, looking at you earnestly.

“You know no one can say no to you when you look at them like that, right?” You asked, slumping on your chair a little. 

“I know, that’s why I do it,” he smiled. 

You narrowed your eyes at him. “Fine,” you replied. 

The rest of the day was spent going over the plan to take down Miranda and Stephen and reviewing there membership records. Fake social media accounts, employment and bank records were set up for you and Neal. You were making contact the next night. When the couple tried to blackmail you, Peter and the rest of the team would come in and arrest them. 

You entered the infamous van wearing your favorite first date outfit. It flattered your favorite parts and minimized the parts you’re not so happy with. Neal turned as the door opened, his eyes widening slightly.

“You clean up nice,” he grinned. 

“I don’t look like a FBI agent when I’m off the clock, Caffrey,” you rolled your eyes. 

“You don’t look bad when you’re at work,” he replied. “You just look professional.”

“I hope you have better compliments than that when we’re inside,” you chuckled. 

“Oh, don’t you worry about that,” he said with a dazzling smile

You tried to ignore the heat in your cheeks and gave Neal a once over. He wore a charcoal gray suit, baby blue shirt, and black tie. He looked dashing, as always. 

“You look alright too, I guess,” you smirked. 

Neal shook his head and chuckled. 

Peter handed you an earpiece and a watch with a recording device. “Ready?” He asked. 

“Ready,” you nodded once. 

“Jones, Diana, and a few other agents are already inside. They’re waiting for my signal to take Stephen and Miranda down. You’ll be fine,” Peter assured you. 

“Thanks, boss,” you smirked. Peter rolled his eyes and smiled. 

You and Neal exited the van and crossed the street to the club. When you arrived at the front door he placed his hand on the small of your back and your stomach fluttered. This May be harder than I thought you said to yourself. You entered the club and saw people mingling and drinking, nothing suggested the nefarious dealings of the club owners. After you reached the bar and ordered drinks you covertly scanned the room for Miranda and Stephen. 

You leaned close to Neal and looked at him lovingly. 

“Miranda is on your six,” you said caressing the hair behind his ear. 

Neal took your hand resting on the bar and played with your fingers and gave you a soft smile. 

“Stephen is on the other side of the room, three o’clock. He looks interested,” he said and moved closer to you. 

Neal nuzzled your neck as his hand slid down your back and stopped just above your behind. You gasped as your stomach fluttered again. He looked up, made eye contact with Stephen, and smirked. You felt his heart beating rapidly against you. 

“You okay, Caffrey? Your heart’s beating awfully fast,” you whispered. 

“I’m fine. My heart always beats a little faster around you,” he pulled back and looked you in the eye. You gulped. “Stephen is signaling Miranda,” he said.

You pushed yourself even closer to him and rested your forehead on his shoulder. Your mind was reeling from his confession and you wondered if it was just part of the act. You raised your head and gave Miranda a shy look. She looked to your left and tilted her head towards you and Neal. 

You pulled away from Neal and looked at the floor.

“Miranda just signaled back. Do...do you mean it?” Neal lifted your chin with his index finger and you looked into his eyes. 

“Every word,” he replied with a soft smile and ran his thumb over your bottom lip.

You opened your mouth to speak but were interrupted by Stephen. 

“What a lovely couple,” Stephen gushed as he put a hand on one of your shoulders and the other on Neal’s. 

“Absolutely stunning,” Miranda replied and  looked you and Neal up and down. 

“Thank you,” you said shyly. 

“Can we buy you a drink?” Neal asked as he shifted and put his arm around your waist. 

“No need, we own the place,” Stephen bragged with a smile.  “Your drinks are on us,” he said, removing his hands from your shoulders. 

“Thanks so much,” you smiled and batted your eyelashes. 

“Yes, thank you. That’s very kind,” Neal smiled. 

“I’m Stephen Arthur and this is my other half and business partner, Miranda Digby,” he smiled and shook your hands.

“Pleasure to meet you both! I’m Nick Halden and this is my other half, Amanda Gordon,” Neal beamed. 

“It’s nice to meet you,” you smiled. 

“Miranda and Amanda! What a pair! I feel like we were destined to meet,” Miranda squealed. 

“Would you like to join us somewhere a little quieter so we can get to know each other?” Stephen asked. 

You looked at Neal and smiled. “What do you think, honey?”

Neal chuckled and pulled you closer to his side. “It sounds like a party,” He grinned. 

Stephen and Miranda led you into a private room. The red walls and low lighting were supposed to ooze sex appeal but to you it just felt sleazy. Stephen and Miranda took a seat in chairs in front of the coffee table and sofa. You and Neal made yourself comfortable on the sofa. You tried not to think of all the disgusting things that may have happened on it. 

“So, what brings you here?” Miranda asked as she crossed her legs. 

“We heard about this place through word of mouth. We’re new to this and a friend suggested we come here,” Neal said, putting his arm around your shoulders. 

“Oh really, who? Stephen asked as he shifted in his seat. 

“Greg Harrison,” Neal smiled. 

“How is Greg? He hasn’t been in for a while,” Miranda said. 

“He’s fine. He and Ariana found a lovely couple to spend time with,” Neal replied. 

“Oh, I’m glad. They are wonderful,” Miranda beamed. 

“So, would you mind telling us what you’re interested in,” Stephen asked as he ran his hand up and down Miranda’s thigh. 

“Well, Amanda was curious and I like to watch,” Neal said as he caressed your arm. 

You were going to kill Neal. You were going to get a snack because operations always made you hungry, then you were going to go to June’s and kill him. 

“It’s always the shy ones,” Stephen said and licked his bottom lip. 

“So you’ve never done this before,” Miranda asked. 

“Not with a couple, no,” Neal smirked.

“He’s watched me with men and women but never a couple. It’s something I’ve been dying to try,” you replied with a sultry look. 

Stephen rose from his chair and sat down beside you. “I think that can be arranged,” he said as he ran his thumb along your cheekbone. 

“Say when and where,” you replied in a breathy voice and looked down at his lips. 

“There’s just one teensy little thing,” Miranda interrupted as she swirled her glass around. 

“There is? What?” Neal asked. 

“The fee,” Miranda smiled. 

“Do you mean membership dues?” You asked. 

“There are those and the fee to be with us, specifically,” she replied. 

“How much?” Neal asked with an arched eyebrow. 

“$20,000. And don’t say you don’t have the money we have all of your bank information,” Miranda sat back in her chair with a smirk. 

“What?! How?!” You balked. 

“This handy device right here,” Stephen said and pulled some sort of skimmer or cloning device out of his pocket. 

“That’s right. Pay up or we inform your bosses and all your little friends on social media about all the naughty things you’re into,” Miranda smirked and crossed her arms. 

“Honey,” you looked at Neal and appeared scared out of your mind. “I can’t lose my job! My family follows me on some social media! They can’t find out about this!”

Neal kissed the top of your head. “It’s okay, sweetheart. Fine, we’ll pay,” he sighed. 

Miranda pulled her phone from her purse, entered something and showed the phone to you and Neal to verify your bank details. You both nodded. 

“Pleasure doing business with you,” she said with a cocky smirk. 

“FBI, put your hands up!” Diana and Jones yelled as they burst through the door with two other agents. 

Stephen and Miranda were marched out of the club. You and Neal followed behind them and the other agents. Once outside you took a deep breath and walked away from the commotion. 

“You okay?” Neal asked. 

“Yep,” you nodded. “Be honest with me. Did you really mean what you said in there?” You asked, looking Neal in the eye. 

“What? That I like to watch?” He asked with a smile. 

“Neeaallll. Be serious,” you tried to scold without laughing. 

“Okay, okay. Yes. I have a massive crush on you,” he admitted with a small smile.

“Oh,” you replied, looked down at the ground, and rubbed the tip of your shoe along the pavement. “I might just have a massive crush on you too.”

“Really?!” Neal grinned.

“Mhmm.” You shrugged and looked up at him. 

“Y/N, would you like to go on a date with me?”

You took a deep breath, pretended to think about it, and exhaled.

“I’d love to,” you smiled. 

You both walked back towards the van. “We’ll have to look up the policy on co-workers dating while working for the FBI,” Neal said. 

“Let’s just see how this first date goes, Caffrey,” you laughed. 

[white-collar-lawmen-and-conmen]

Imagine Neal Sharing His New Year's Resolution

            “Any resolutions for the new year?” He asked, one brow cocked, his voice as smooth as the wine in his cup.

            You gave him a small smile. It was hard not to be completely see-through with Neal, especially when he asked such a cliché question. Didn’t everyone make resolutions? But they were always the same, in your experience. Every year you told yourself you’d start saving more of your paycheck, or lose the few pounds that you’d gained when winter set in. But those were habitual changes in your year, now – not the kind of thing that you’d say really, actually mattered when it came to ringing in a brighter and more colorful future.

            “I bet you have a good one,” you said instead of answering, looking meaningfully down towards his shoes.

            Neal chuckled and shifted his weight so he could idly swing his left foot a bit, consciously feeling the weight of the anklet. “Yeah. This one’s a long time coming.”

            “Four years, almost,” you agreed. It was hard to believe it had only been four years. At the same time, it was hard to think back on how it had been four whole years since you’d met this wonderful, infuriating man. “You can get a whole new start, if that’s what you want.”

            Neal didn’t answer right away, instead lifting his cup to his lips and sipping on the dark red. You sent him a short glance, admiring for just a moment how the light caught the angles of his face. There was just enough light to clearly see him, but it was low enough to make his profile almost dreamlike, especially as your mind briefly wandered to the year after next and wondered if he’d still be around to celebrate.

            The party behind you made a loud cheer, bringing you back to the present and reminding you that this was a good night. A Sunday evening with friends and colleagues, just happily enjoying life and marking the change in the calendar. It was arbitrary. And because it was arbitrary, it was meaningful – because it put some purpose and some love back into a day you otherwise would’ve spent alone. Standing out here on the deck, with a chilly breeze sweeping your hair from your forehead, the warmth of family had started to fade. The sounds of a winning hand indoors brought it all back, and you breathed in, deep and content.

            Neal lowered his glass and stepped a bit forward, turning to look at you. You tilted your head curiously and fought the impulse to move a foot back. The depth in his eyes had caught you off guard – you were so used to his playful and charismatic personality that it surprised you when he was truly serious.

            “I’ve spent the better part of four years wanting a new start, as a free man,” Neal said, each word tinged with equal parts regret and nostalgia. “But lately I think – I know,” he graciously amended, “I don’t need to run to feel free.”

            For a second you stared, searching his eyes for the caveat or the condition. You couldn’t find one. “You’re going to stay?” You whispered, keeping your voice low like it was a secret. Maybe it was – the way Peter occasionally looked at Neal, you knew the man was making a mental scrapbook of last times.

            “I think my resolution is to stop running,” Neal whispered back.

[boredoutofmymindwriting]

Hi my lovely followers! I know it's been a while (who am I kidding it's been ages) but I'm graduating on Monday and hopefully I'll have more time to write then. I'd really appreciate it if you guys would send some requests that I could start of with. I'll probably post a prompt list to get you some ideas what to request from.

Love y'all - Jo

[sonufabitchhhhh]

You Were My Oppressor, But Now You Are My Handler

- Matthew Keller x Reader (White Collar)

Prologue

Masterlist

-

Agent y/n s/n walked out of Hughs' office, contemplating a very life changing decision. To most people, it wouldn't seem so impactful, but after witnessing how Peter's life changed after taking on consultant Neal Caffrey, y/n knew it was a big deal. It was with that thought that y/n decided to go talk to Peter before making any final decisions.

"Hey Peter, can I talk to you in your office please?" Y/n asked without giving anything away to idle ears. "And Neal, you can come too, if you don't mind." Peter gestured towards his office, and made towards it, Caffrey seeming more than eager to follow and be in the loop.

"Y/n, why don't you sit down." Peter started. "So, what's all this about?"

"Well, I've been made an offer," both men were leaned in awaiting to hear what y/n had to say, "to be Matthew Keller's handler as he works as a consultant for the F.B.I."

Neal was slack jawed, shocked that Keller was getting out of prison so easy; sure it's the same treatment Neal himself has had, but Keller! Really?!

Peter was a lot calmer, only slightly less surprised that Keller was getting this offer. Neal had proven himself to be such an asset to the F.B.I. it's no surprise the bureau would jump for joy at the thought of having two of them under their belt.

But Peter also knew that a C.I. was a lot of work. And between his and Neal's gut, he trusted Keller a lot less than he trusted Neal.

"I should warn you y/n, having a consultant is a lot of responsibility." Peter supplied, wanting to make sure he gave the facts straight. "Now that's not to say you can't handle it, I'm sure you're more than capable, but these guys... they're slippery. And Keller..."

"He's untrustworthy." Neal finished.

Peter continued on. "If you feel willing to take Keller on, I say go for it! But make sure you have a constant eye on him. Don't trust him. At least not right away. He may give you a reason to trust him in time, but in the beginning it's best to assume guilty until proven innocent."

"Peter's right." Neal didn't seem happy about the prospect of Keller cutting a deal, but seemed willing to help advise y/n all the same. "By the sounds of it, the bureau's got their heart set on Keller, so if not you, someone else will take him on. Y/n, if you become Keller's handler, you'll at least have me around to ask about him - I've known Keller a long time, and I know what he's like. And I'm willing to sell him out, we're not exactly friends."

Y/n contemplated their words, thinking long and hard about the implications of being Keller's handler.

"Guess I better go tell Hughs the good news!" Y/n stood up smiling. On her way out the door, y/n stopped and added, "Oh, and Caffrey? I hope you make friends with Keller eventually, you'll be seeing a lot more of him!"

-

A/N: hey, so this is the first part to my Keller x Reader story! It's sad that there's not more fics for him, I'm a sucker for the villains. Anyway, I hope you like this, and if you have any suggestions for the story, lmk in the comments!

P.s. the title is a lyric by Muse from a song called The Handler, just thought I'd let you know!

Hope you have a great day/night,

~ SonofaBeach

[supernaturallymarvellous]

It Started With Coffee....

A/N: Shanna, the wonderful owner of @sdavid09 decided to host a “What if…” challenge.  This is my third entry out of three prompts that I requested.  My prompt was “What if you were a secretary at the FBI and Neal goes overboard while trying to impress you?”.  This is my first foray into writing for White Collar so be kind to me with any criticisms please!

Word Count: 835

Pairing: Neal Caffrey x Reader

Warnings: None.

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Your role as a secretary within the Department of White Collar Crime brought you into daily contact with Neal Caffrey. You often found yourself assisting him when he stood in front of the file cabinets, staring at them as if he had no idea of how the system worked. You typed his reports, helped him fine tune his understanding of how the team functioned and, more importantly, treated him as more than just an ex-con. You saw him for the wonderful man that he was - the man that, without fail, made you smile each and every day.

It seemed obvious to everyone, including you, that Neal had developed somewhat of a crush on you. You’d have been lying to yourself if you said you didn’t feel the same way. You were, after all, of a similar age to him and your interests ran along the same lines; art, foreign travel, good food and drink…..all things you and Neal could wax lyrical about for hours on end. His feelings towards you soon became the highlight of office gossip and impossible for others to ignore. Working in a relatively small team came with its downsides as well as its benefits, one of those downsides being that everyone knew everyone else’s business! The fact that Neal had taken an interest in you, and that you weren’t exactly pushing him away, was all that anyone seemed to discuss over the water cooler.

It started with coffee. Over the course of the first few weeks, ever since Neal had joined the division, you had bonded over your love of good coffee and now, every morning saw a travel mug filled with a delicious Italian roast placed on your desk, waiting for your arrival. More often than not, it was also accompanied by some form of delicious pastry treat.

You tried not to read too much into this sweet gesture, not wanting to let your small crush develop into something more. The thought of falling in love and getting your heart broken by the charming and charismatic man you worked alongside terrified you more than you would ever confess to anyone. Neal however was of an entirely different mindset. Determined to win you over, he began to set in motion a series of increasing elaborate declarations of love that he knew you wouldn’t be able to resist.

From that moment on, it seemed as though everything Neal did was in an effort to impress you. Simple lunchtime trips to the nearest deli turned into short dates before you both had to rush back to the office. If Neal was called out of the office on a case with Peter and couldn’t be there for lunch, a meal would arrive at your desk - the most delicious food would be delivered by an exhausted looking bike courier, sometimes even hand-cooked by Neal if he’d had the time.

Elaborate bouquets of flowers found their way to your workstation on a weekly basis. Each time a new bunch arrived, they were accompanied by a personalised message; usually a meaningful quote but sometimes a poem, and always written in Neal’s perfect flowing handwriting. For Neal it was a natural progression from flowers to jewellery. Nothing too extravagant as he knew you favoured a more simple and elegant style, but always something incredibly beautiful - like the delicate bracelet he had given you a few days previously, adorned with tiny diamonds!

Despite your intentions, you quickly found yourself hoping that Neal’s crush was more than that, hoping that the gifts he was giving you and the time he was spending with you meant that you were more than just a way of passing his time until someone better suited to him came along. Surely no one would try so hard unless they were serious in their intentions? However, self doubt left you questioning your thoughts and hoping that everything would become clear soon.

Things were clarified for you when you walked into work early on a Monday morning. A crisp white envelope lay on top of your computer keyboard, your name printed in sharp, black ink. Smiling to yourself, you glanced around the office, noticing that you were alone and glad of that fact as it spared you having to explain why you were blushing. You knew it was from Neal and at first, thought that it would just be tickets to an opera that you had been discussing with him not long ago. It wasn’t until you slipped a finger under the flap of the envelope and pulled out its contents that you realised just how much Neal cared for you.

Inside were two small laminated rectangles, one bearing your picture, the other Neal’s. They were lifetime membership cards to the Metropolitan Museum of Art, a place that meant so much to both of you and where you had spent many happy afternoons wiling away the hours. What made the gift even more special however was the note that was attached:

“Say you’ll be mine….forever.”

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