#white collar fic

[thesirencove]

𐙚. ݁₊⋆❀˖° (neal caffrey x reader) WIP soon!

hi y'all !! it's been a while , i'm sorry for that ! classes has been insane and i swear my professors love torturing me . i do , however, have a wip that i've been working on recently that i will be finishing up and posting soon !! i decided to share a little blurb from it (unedited !!!) beforehand to give y'all a little piece of what's to come <3

i hope everyone is doing well , and thank you for your patience !! :)

my requests are still open by the way ! so be sure send in any y'all have :)

upcoming neal caffrey x fem!reader wip :)

sneak peak word count: 222

thirty minutes passed. she tried to text him, but the text never went through. the wifi here never worked, the officiant told her. she nodded, staying silent.

an hour passed, and she tried again. the officiant was getting a little restless. so was she. he felt bad for her, she could tell considering how his eyes shone with pity whenever he looked at her. she sat on the bench, anxious, thinking maybe something happened to him on the case. she felt her nails splitting at she picked and scratched at the stone bench, attempting to calm herself.

more time passed, and it only got darker and darker. it had been hours since their agreed upon time, and neal never came. once eight o’clock hit, she accepted he wasn’t coming.

“i’m sorry for wasting your time,” she said, getting up from her spot on the bench. “it seems my fiancé is occupied by another matter.” it took everything in her for her voice not to break. 

“i’m sorry, sweetheart,” he said. 

“it’s alright. nothing i can do, right?” she responded, a grave smile adorning her face. the man nodded. 

“please let me know if you need anything.” her head fell at the words, and she hear his footsteps in the grass as he walked away. 

her smile wasn’t as bright as this morning.

[aterimber]

Love Me The Same

Happy Holidays, Tumblr!

This year, I was happy (albeit a little slow) to participate in the White Collar Holiday Grab Bag by @operationmorewhitecollar. This fic has also been posted to the AO3 collection, but I figured there's no harm in also posting here, right?

Enjoy!

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Written: 24.11.26 Words: 691 Hurt-ish, White Collar Christmas fic

Written for the White Collar Holiday Grab Bag 2024, based on Prompt #21 Sweaters.

--------------------

Peter carefully placed the star at the top of the tree. He slowly brought his hands away, and subconsciously held his breath, “Easy… easy…”

Ding dong!

“Can you grab that, Hun?”

Peter hung his head as the star fell over before nodding - despite his wife not being able to see him from through the closed kitchen door, “I got it!”

He hurried down the step ladder and over to the door. Peter pulled it open, plastered-on fake smile sliding off his face as he saw his new CI standing there, “What are you doing here?”

Neal blinked at Peter’s tone, his own smile fading, “I-I was invited.” He craned his neck to look around the agent, “Did El not…?”

“El?”

“Peter, what are you doing?” He felt his wife smack him on the shoulder before waving the art thief in, “It’s freezing outside! Come in, Neal.”

He gave Peter a wide berth as he stepped into the house, “Thank-you.”

“Here, let me take that,” Elizabeth slid his jacket off before shoving it into her stunned husband’s hands. She gestured to the couch with a big smile of her own, “Make yourself comfortable. Dinner’s almost ready.”

“It smells great.” Neal shot her his signature smile as he moved to sit down. Once she was safely back behind the swinging kitchen door, he straightened back up and walked the few steps back over to where Peter was still standing, jaw slacked open with surprise.

Neal flicked his eyes up to the kitchen door before leaning in, dropping his voice, “She called and invited me over last week. I swear I thought you knew. I di-”

The near-whispered ramblings were enough to get Peter’s brain unstuck. He held up a hand to cut off the end of the sentence. As Neal’s voice died on his lips, Peter shook his head, “I don’t know how you talked her into this-”

Peter cut himself off as he noticed the red and green reindeer that were staring up at him. He furrowed his brows and instinctively reached forward to touch the out-of-place clothing, “What are you wearing?”

Neal shrugged, “Christmas sweater.”

“Yeah, I can see it’s a Christmas sweater,” Peter rolled his eyes, “I meant why are you wearing one?”

Neal sunk his hands into his pockets, expression carefully blank - that kind of carefully blank he used when he was trying to hide thinking Peter was an idiot, “It’s Christmas. People usually-”

“Uh-huh, no. I know what normal people do.” Peter squinted his eyes and pointed an accusatory finger at the man, “You don’t wear anything other than one of those… DeVito’s-”

“A Devore?”

“- whatever, without a reason.” Peter let his hand fall as he took a breath and stepped backward, placing his hands on his hips, “I swear to God, Neal, if you’re planning something…”

“Whoa, hey!” Neal held up his hands in mock surrender, “You think I’d be stupid enough to try and con you on the first Christmas I’ve had out of prison in three years?” At Peter’s expression, Neal raised an eyebrow, “By using your wife?”

 Peter ran a hand over his mouth as he seemed to consider that. After a tense moment, he let out a breath, “… Fine.” He didn’t miss the way Neal’s shoulders deflated at that, “But I know you. There’s no way you’ll be able to sit through an entire evening in my house, and not be… tempted.”

“Peter, I-”

“Don’t.” Peter raised the hand that was still holding his jacket and rolled his eyes before tossing it at him, “You are not going to ruin this Christmas. You’re leaving.”

Peter didn’t miss the hurt that flashed across Neal’s face as he caught the jacket, head low.

After a moment - that lasted just long enough for Peter to feel a small pang of guilt, Neal slid his jacket back on and made his way toward the door.

He hesitated after he opened the door, looking like he wanted to say something. Half a second and a slight head shake later, Neal was turning a freshly masked expression back to the agent, “Merry Christmas, Peter.”

[caffreyburke]

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: White Collar (TV 2009) Rating: General Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Peter Burke & Neal Caffrey Characters: Neal Caffrey, Peter Burke, Elizabeth Burke (White Collar) Additional Tags: Hurt/Comfort, Injury, Hurt Neal Caffrey, Whump, Caffrey-Burke Day 2024, #WhiteCollarBingo Summary:

“You fell,” Peter said after a pause, surprise evident in his voice. It wasn’t even a question. “Damn it, Neal, are you hurt? Tell me the truth.”

Or, Neal has to stay with Peter and Elizabeth for a few days after an incident at June's. An easy beginning turns out too good to be true when Neal manages to injure himself. --- Happy Caffrey-Burke Day everyone! This fic is me finally breaking out of a long writing slump. I’m so, so happy I managed to get something in for Caffrey-Burke Day this year :) @operationmorewhitecollar

[icemav86]

new fic (white collar): make you wait (till you’re mine)

ship: Peter/Neal

characters: Peter, Neal, El

rating: explicit

word count: 5.4k

tags: First Time, Dom/sub Undertones, Orgasm Denial, Honor Bondage, Face-Fucking

“Oh, no, no. That’s not how this is going to work. That,” Peter said, tilting his head toward Neal’s erection, “is a punishment. You are going to keep your hands to yourself and think about all the ways you could have gotten a confession before things got so out of hand. Mull it over in a cold shower if you need to.”

Neal gets overly invested in his undercover work. Peter has something to say about it.

make you wait (till you’re mine)

Written for ropememory for the kinkluckydip exchange

[acasualcrossfade]

Whumpril Day 1: Panic Attack

Unraveled

White Collar: Peter Burke and Neal Caffrey

For Day 1 of @whumpril

TW: panic attacks

1.5k, includes spoilers for Season 1

“Nice work, Diana. Couldn’t have done it without you,” Peter said, shaking Diana’s hand. 

Diana smiled back easily. “Always a pleasure, boss.” She nodded towards Neal’s departing form. “Looks like he’s got somewhere to be.”

Peter chuckled. “Looks like it.” He pointed towards the back of the building.  “We parked out back so I’ll see you back at the office.”

Diana nodded a farewell in return and Peter jogged a few steps to catch up to his CI. Neal seemed to be walking fast; maybe Diana was right and he had somewhere to be?

“Forget something?” Peter called when he was in earshot of Neal, holding up his anklet. Neal had a knack for remembering birthdays and anniversaries, but he always seemed to conveniently forget about his anklet after solving a case. 

As Peter neared the car, he immediately knew something was wrong. Neal was pacing back and forth, and running his hand through his hair. Peter checked the time; was he late for something?

Peter had barely gotten a few steps closer when Neal began shrugging out of his suit jacket, allowing it to fall to the ground in a heap. Neal huffed a breath before leaning heavily on the car, almost like he was going to be sick.

“Neal? Neal?” Peter’s voice had gotten lower and more serious; he’d never seen Neal like this. In the years Peter chased Neal and caught him, twice, he’d never seen Neal look this…unraveled.

Peter knew it’d been hard for Neal after Kate and the plane, so it was to his utter surprise that Neal had come in after one day off, ready to take on a new case. It seemed like working cases like usual helped, and after Mozzie assured Peter he’d be doing the same to keep Neal on track…it seemed that Neal was functioning. 

But more than once, Peter caught Neal staring off into space and when Neal would turn back, his eyes would look shinier than usual. 

Work kept his CI busy enough, but even with a full schedule and a pile of cases, it was clear that keeping busy could only do so much. 

“Neal?” His voice came out softer. He glanced at his outstretched hand, caught between wanting to offer comfort and unsure if it’d be welcomed. 

Up close, Neal looked sick; his face had paled to a significant white. One hand white-knuckled the metal of the car as he panted out short, shallow breaths. Neal’s eyes were a terrified blue as his other hand clawed at his collar. His fingers struggled at his neck, trying and failing to get a grip on his tie to loosen it. 

The tie slid slack and Neal moved on his collar.  His hands shook as he grasped uselessly against the small buttons as he tried and failed to undo the buttons at his collar. He moved to his shirt next, and he yanked it from where he’d carefully tucked it in that morning.

Neal whimpered between uneven pants, his breaths a syncopated staccato.

“Neal?” Peter knew what his training had taught him, but he pushed it aside, trying to focus. This wasn’t some criminal; this was Neal.

Neal finally managed to undo the buttons, gasping in breaths as he pulled his shirt loose and away from his neck. His grip on the car seemed to be the only thing keeping him upright.

Neal snapped back to the nightmarish memory of the explosion; the air stung his nostrils and the heat made it hard to breathe. 

Neal could feel the scorching heat against his back, the stinging impact of his palms against the concrete from being pushed over, and worst of all, the sick realization seeping through him that Kate, his Kate, had been on that plane…

The very plane he was about to board…

He tightened his grip on the car. “I-I’m alright, just-just need…” Neal breathlessly explained. Words tangled and caught in his throat as his vision dotted.

“Whoa, whoa,” Peter started, catching Neal just as the man’s legs buckled. In his arms, Neal shook terribly and his wild blue eyes were wide and unfocused as he gripped Peter’s forearm. “Head between your knees, head between your knees,” Peter coached, helping Neal lower down and sit on the ground of the parking lot.

Neal obeyed with no fight or crude argument, and its absence made Peter’s heart tighten with worry. Peter placed a hand on Neal’s back. “Now deep breaths,” Peter went on. “Like this.”

Peter took a slow, exaggerated breath and let it slowly, loud enough for Neal to hear. 

Neal trembled and his breath stuttered out of him, but Peter could hear Neal’s wheezy breaths as tried to imitate Peter’s.

Peter continued and slowly, slowly, Neal’s breathing evened and with his hand still against Neal’s back, Peter could tell that his shakes had weakened to shivers. His shirt was damp with sweat. 

The knot of worry that had taken up residence in his chest loosened as Neal’s breathing slowed. Peter let his hand move to Neal’s shoulder. He expected the man to pull back, but to his surprise, Neal leaned into it slightly.

Slowly, Neal lifted his head. Peter could see the pronounced dark circles around Neal’s eyes, and the way his cheekbones seemed to be sharper. His eyes were an electric blue and they darted around with uncertainty. 

“S-sorry,” Neal apologized. “I-I didn’t mean…they start…I don’t…”

Peter had never heard Neal stutter, let alone trip over his words, but he gave Neal’s shoulder a comforting squeeze. “It’s okay,” Peter assured. “You’re okay.”

Neal’s body shivered and he wiped the back of his hand against his eyes quickly. 

Peter was quiet for a moment, giving Neal the time to process and breathe. “You wanna talk about it?”

Neal silently shook his head. “N-not now,” he managed. His voice came out in a broken choke. 

Peter rubbed Neal’s shoulder. He kept his voice quiet and even. “How about we head back to my place, then? Elizabeth would love the excuse to make some tea.”

It took a long moment, but Neal nodded slowly.

“You think you can stand?”

Again, a slow nod.

Peter knelt, guiding Neal’s arm around his shoulder. “You good? Here, up on three,” Peter explained, and when Neal’s grip tightened on him, Peter paused to give Neal a minute.

“S-sorry,” Neal breathed.  “J-just need a minute.” He took another breath and adjusted his grip on Peter. His eyes refused to meet Peter’s.

“Hey, it’s okay,” Peter nearly whispered. There was something about seeing Neal like this that made him want to treat him ever so gently. Slowly, Peter carefully sat on the ground, letting Neal lean against him. “We’re in no rush.”

Neal seemed to relax minutely at that and took another breath before nodding.

A pang of guilt washed over Peter; he shouldn’t have pushed Neal. He knew Neal well enough to know that even as the best con could only hide so much. This was the proof.

By the time Peter got Neal in the car, the man was quiet and looked more worn than ever, as if dealing with any emotion had sapped him of any of his remaining energy. Neal pinched the bridge of his nose, using his thumb and forefinger to rub at his eyes.

Peter sat in the driver’s seat and nodded towards the glove compartment. “There’s some water in there. And a few granola bars, if you need.”

Neal raised his eyebrows at the sight, and leaned over to reach into the glove compartment. His eyes glinted in surprise as he pulled out a granola bar, giving Peter a peek at Neal’s usual self.

“There’s never snacks,” he piqued. He stifled a stubborn yawn against his sleeve.

Peter shrugged and chose to ignore the way Neal’s ears turned red. “They help on busy cases,” he said casually. “And it’s handy for stakeouts if Elizabeth doesn’t have time to make deviled ham.”

He looked over to see Neal unscrewing the cap on the water bottle before taking a small sip. And then, another. To his relief, Neal seemed to have stopped shaking.

The New York City traffic looked dense. Cars moved slowly, and it took Peter three tries to pull into traffic. He kept his head on a swivel, trying to find room to merge.

And by the time Peter wanted to ask Neal about the whole ordeal, he found Neal leaned against the window, his eyes closed. The sight made Peter’s heart squeeze; he also felt a shiver of worry. Peter had seen the man grumpy and hangry, but never asleep, let alone asleep in his car. 

Neal had at least eaten some of the granola bar and drank some of the water. The remnants of both sat in the cup holder between them.

Peter considered that a win and made a mental note to set up another meeting with Mozzie.

Still, he was glad the man was in one piece. Neal slept on, and Peter was still at a loss of what to do, if letting him sleep would be best, or waking him when they arrived? But, behind his worry was a strong sense of gratefulness and luck.

It could have easily been Neal on that plane, too.  

And although Neal wouldn’t or couldn’t talk about it with him now, Peter knew that like everything else, they’d get through it together.

And for now, that was enough for Detective Peter Burke.

[penna-nomen]

This week's word is perfect for my WIP, titled Overcomplications, which involves planning multiple parties and events. Here's my sentence:

Their one concession to simplicity for the impromptu party was to make it a potluck, with guests invited to bring a dish they felt fit the fantasy theme.

This week’s word is…

✨ PARTY ✨

Find the word in any WIP and share the sentence containing it. Reply, reblog, stick it in the tags, tag us in a new post, or keep it private. All fandoms, all ships, all writers welcome.

[mysterycitrus]

where are the supporting casts in batman fic. why is everyone just hanging out at the manor. why are the only leaguers mentioned clark and diana and maaaaaybe ollie if his parenting is getting slammed. where is everyone. why does no one have any friends. why do the friends they do have no rich inner lives outside of batangst. is gotham city trapped under the gd simpsons movie dome. dick grayson blink twice if ur being held hostage

[lefish]

Ok, so you know all those cross over fics where one of the bats is undercover as neal caffrey, right?

So the idea is El gets kidnapped by someone and it’s being live streamed to the fbi people and neal!tim says to peter something along the lines of “i can do something to save el, but you’re not going to like it, so I just need a yes or no. Do you trust me peter?” And peter takes a long moment before saying “ i trust you neal”

so tim is like “bet, ima step out to make a reallly quick phone call then ima be right back”. And tim calls jason and is like “ can you go rescue my friend please” and jason agrees cuz he’s not doing anything and is in the area, so like 20 minutes later the goddamm red hood shows up at whatever wearhouse or basement el is in and beats up her kiddnapers and looks into the camera and is like “ ive done my part baby bird, ill be sure to get what im owed” or some shit cuz he’s dramatic.

So obviously peter and el and the rest of the fbi people freak out cuz “holy shit thats the fucking red hood!!” and “neal what the fuck do you owe him???!!?”

and jason just wants tim to take a nap, eat a proper meal and watch all three legally blonde movies with him or some dumb brotherly bonding shit like that.

If someone writes this please tell me :)))))



[suburbonlegends]

Hey I'm gonna go on a rant:

it's like. insane to me how much in "Front Man" Neal was just straight up lied to so that he could be put directly in danger. Agent Rice fully grills him, criticizing, dehumanizing (you're a tool in my belt, keep your mouth shut) Neal when he first talks to the dad so that she can cover up the fact that Neal almost found out that HE was the demands!!! She then belittled him into submission because if Neal did too much, you know, actual investigating in the case he was brought in on to help investigate, he would've found out that he wasn't actually brought in on good faith. He was brought in to be disposed of!! She brought him to Gless only to be like "See? I have him, he's the goods we can exchange for information." Neal was a living, breathing form of cash in a briefcase.

And then she lies, like almost immediately afterwards, to Neal telling him he's going to go undercover "clubbing." She went to Hughes that morning KNOWING that evening she was going to put Neal on the spit roast. She lied to Hughes, to Peter, to Neal at every step of the way. She heard Neal be like "oh yeah this man wants me dead" and was like yeah that's fine, I'm still completely okay with letting him have you. She picked Neal up from his home knowing fully well that there was a high probability of Neal not coming back (she would've been a fucking idiot to genuinely believe all Wilkes wanted was a face to face) and she didn't say a goddamn word.

Like I'm just so boggled by how orchestrated the betrayal for Neal was. And then she has. the. ever. loving. fucking. audacity. to come up to him at the end and be like "No hard feelings?"

and listen I know this whole rant is about Rice but fucking Peter at the end giving her the pass "In the end we got it done" because the show simply CANNOT allow for this episode to have long lasting repercussions even though it's like. by far the biggest betrayal Neal faces for a good chunk of the show. Peter went HOURSSSSSS not even knowing if Neal was ALIVE what do you MEAN "in the end we got it done" Neal was KIDNAPPED, TASED, BEATEN, NEARLY SHOT, nearly watched someone else get murdered in front of him AAAAAAAAAAAAAAA.

out of all the episodes that get the consequences pushed under the rug so that the plot can be pushed forward, this is one that hurts me a lot.

[nicedeviledhamrightthere]

This is from my main blog, and my whole heart is currently in filling as many of these with White Collar as possible so if anyone has any requests...feel free to send them on over! Be as specific or vague as you like.

hurt/comfort bingo 2024

I'm a sucker for bingo cards. I fail at them usually, but I can't help signing up anyway.

I'm willing to accept requests for these - I can't promise I'll fill them, but I can promise I will try. Sometimes my brain says no to certain circumstances, and will not twist the plot into something viable no matter how badly I want to do it. Please be kind and patient, and if your request isn't filled...it isn't because I didn't want to. Sometimes I hang on to things because they eventually strike something in me, it just might take some time. (Or wine. I've been drinking a lot less wine lately which also means less really fun ideas flowing all over the place. lol)

I'll write any of these for Hotch/Morgan or White Collar (Peter & Neal, gen - no ship, but any character pairing platonic).

Completed Fics:

'cause i'm near: peter & neal (white collar) for prompts: recovery room, hand holding, staying at their bedside

need you tonight: hotch/morgan (criminal minds) for prompt: late-night call (nsfw)

i'm wearing my heart like a crown: peter & neal (white collar) for prompt: you always know what to say

[ataraxetta]

Listen White Collar is so fun. It's so clever and funny and touching and sweet. Yes it's the same storyline over and over like all the USA shows from back in the heyday of USA network, and yes every single time I gasp with shock and awe and seal clap cos it works for me every time. Me, every single episode falling all over myself because Neal is so beautiful and Peter/Elizabeth/Neal are so in love and also Sara Ellis best character I love her so much and if she had been introduced before I latched too hard onto OT3 I'd be writing curtain fic and also Neal is so beautiful. *chinhands* why NOT watch a 15 year old show and check out a 15 year old fandom a lil bit?

[whumpdoyoumean]

Whumptober #20

part 1

xxx it's not your fault

Neal is slumped on the ground against the wall. His right arm is held tight against his stomach, and it looks like that's where the blood is coming from. Peter pulls out his phone, quickly dialing Jones as he crouches in front of Neal, setting the flashlight down on the ground.

"He's here," Peter says as soon as Jones answers. "We need an ambulance to his anklet coordinates, now."

He hangs up, shoving his phone in his pocket before reaching forward to give Neal's shoulder a gentle shake.

"Neal. Neal!"

Neal groans, lifting his head from where it's dipped down toward his chest. Peter can see now that there's a huge bruise forming over his left eyes and his lip is split.

"I knew you'd find me," Neal rasps. "Would've called but m' phone broke."

So that's why he'd stopped moving once he was outside of the perimeter. He'd gone just far enough to set the anklet off and then waited, knowing Peter would come find him and get help.

"Move your arm," he says, trying to ignore the guilt that rushes over him. He grabs Neal's hand when he doesn't move. "Come on, let me see."

Neal allows Peter to pull his arm away from his body, letting out a hiss of pain.

"Careful," he groans, and Peter realizes that the blood isn't from a wound on Neal's flank like he'd initially feared. That doesn't offer much relief, though; there's a huge gash on Neal's forearm, and it's bleeding badly.

"Ambulance is on the way," Peter says gently, reaching forward to pull the tie from around Neal's neck. He loops it around Neal's arm. Neal lets out a cry as Peter ties a tight knot.

"Sorry, about that," Peter murmurs. "Sorry, just trying to slow that bleeding down some."

Neal nods breathlessly, eyes screwed shut. There are little beads of sweat as his hairline and across his upper lip, though whether it's from the pain, or, god forbid, and early sign of hypovolemia, Peter's not sure. He puts a hand on Neal's shoulder. The man is trembling.

"What happened, Neal?"

Neal opens his eyes, staring down at his shoes.

"Owen Kang is dead."

For the second time in just a few minutes, his heart feels like it drops into his stomach. Owen Kang, witness in their current case.

"He – what?"

Neal looks up at Peter, and his eyes are shining with tears.

"He called me about an hour ago, told me he wanted to talk. I was going to tell you, Peter, really I was. But he begged me, and I just – I thought it would be fine. We were just a few blocks south of here, and this guy just-just came out of nowhere. His face was covered and he had gloves on and I knew. I knew he was there for Owen, and I pulled out my phone but he grabbed it from me and smashed it..." He trails off, pulling his lower lip between his teeth as tears roll down his cheeks.

"It's okay," Peter assures him. "Take your time."

"He went for Owen and I – I tried to stop him. That's why he cut me." He winces, as if remembering the moment the knife bit into flesh. "He wasn't actually going for me, I just got in the way. The second time I got in the way is when he hit me."

Neal's breathing starts to quicken and he closes his eyes. Peter tightens his grip on his shoulder. When Neal speaks again, his voice is quiet and strained.

"The guy hit like a boxer. By the time I came to, he was gone and Owen was...And my phone was broken, and the edge of the radius was closer than any people were, so."

He'd been knocked unconscious, then, long enough for the man to kill Owen and escape, which means that on top of the wound on his arm he's probably got a concussion. Concern and guilt, and anger at whoever did this, all twist in Peter's gut.

"You could've been killed," he says, and Neal lets out a miserable laugh.

"If he'd wanted to kill me, I would've been." He looks up at Peter, and his expression is one of anguish. "If I had just called you..."

"Don't," Peter says.

"Peter, a man is dead because of me." It's like all the strength drains from Neal and he slumps forward, dissolving into sobs as Peter wraps him in a hug, pulling him tight against his chest.

"It's not your fault," Peter says, relieved when he hears the approaching sirens of an ambulance. "Neal, it is not your fault. It's gonna be okay." He rubs one hand down the back of Neal's head. "Everything is gonna be fine."

xxx

[penna-nomen]

This is a fun fic, and I love the elements of sound and music!

This month’s Drabble for @operationmorewhitecollar‘s prompt, “term”

not gonna lie I struggled with this one haha but once I started going the “science/music terminology” route, this came out. 😅

I hope you enjoy! ♥️

And I hope you all are having a great weekend so far. 🥰

Summary:

Mozzie has his hypothesis behind why Neal calls Peter so often. Neal comes to his own conclusion.

[acasualcrossfade]

For WIP weekend, New Tinsel or Reckless--whichever one you feel like working on more at the moment :)

Eeee thanks for helping me write!! Actually worked on both today so I'll share a quick peek from each :)

New Tinsel--> the quick stop at Eddie's dorm

Eddie’s dorm looked a bit cleaner and organized since the last time Steve visited. There weren’t any clothes on the floor or hanging over the post of either bed. Even the top of the mini fridge in the corner was clear of clutter and organized.

“Gareth,” Eddie explained. “He’s pretty serious about leaving things neat and clean before he leaves.”

Reckless --> White Collar Whumpril fic

“P-Peter, s’hurts,” Neal gasped. His eyes were screwed shut in pain, and beads of sweat ran down his temples. Neal’s breath was too fast, and Peter felt each pant of breath as Neal curled tighter.

“Where’s that ambulance?” Peter shouted to his team, scrambling to help Neal to stay on his side.

“Around the corner,” Diana called, already heading for the stairs. “I’ll meet them.”

Peter nodded his thanks and turned his attention back to Neal.

[warren-keplers-funk-band]

white collar (2009) and the man from u.n.c.l.e (2015) fusion fic... napoleon solo the art thief gets released into agent illya kuryakin's custody to help him solve cases... i'm cooking tell me i'm not

[murdockbuckley]

i can't explain it but batfam × white collar crossover fics are on the same level as peter parker field trip to stark industries fics