#Michael Scofield x reader

[jansqu]

Get Away Driver

The diner was small, tucked away off the highway, a forgotten place where no one would look twice at a group of weary travelers. The Fox River 8 sat in a corner booth, their clothes still damp with sweat and dirt, their bodies aching from days of running. But for the first time since breaking out, they had something resembling peace.

Plates of food sat in front of them, steam curling into the air like a promise of comfort. The quiet hum of conversation filled the space, the tension from the escape slowly unraveling. It was the first real meal in what felt like forever, and no one was rushing to finish.

Michael sat beside you, his fingers brushing against yours beneath the table. You had been his secret, his ace in the hole—the one person he had kept hidden from the rest of the group, except for Lincoln. His way of keeping you safe. Now, you were here, their escape driver, the missing piece they never saw coming.

C-Note took a bite of his burger and let out a low groan. "Damn, I forgot what real food tastes like."

Sucre laughed, nudging his plate closer. "Feels almost illegal eating like this after everything."

"It is illegal," T-Bag drawled, smirking over his cup of coffee. "In case you forgot, we’re still fugitives."

You rolled your eyes but couldn’t help the small smile tugging at your lips. "Maybe let them enjoy the moment before reminding them, huh?"

The group turned to look at you, curiosity sparking in their expressions.

Abruzzi raised an eyebrow. "And who exactly are you?"

Michael stiffened beside you, but before he could answer, Lincoln leaned back in his chair, arms crossed. "She’s the reason we’re sitting here and not rotting in a cell."

"Wait, wait, wait—" Sucre blinked between you and Michael. "You mean to tell me Pretty here had a whole damn person helping us, and we didn’t even know?"

Michael sighed, finally meeting their gazes. "I kept Y/N a secret for a reason. The fewer people who knew, the safer she was."

Mahone, silent up until now, studied you with sharp eyes. "And you trust her completely?"

Michael’s hand found yours under the table, his fingers lacing through yours. "With my life."

Silence fell over the table for a moment before C-Note let out a low whistle. "Man, you really don’t do anything halfway, do you?"

A chuckle rippled through the group, easing the tension. It wasn’t perfect. The danger hadn’t passed. But for now, in this small moment, surrounded by laughter, food, and the people who had become an unlikely family, it was enough.

You squeezed Michael’s hand, and for the first time in what felt like forever, he smiled��really smiled.

Because for now, they were free.

[twohearts-hs]

Defying the Odds - Michael Scofield x Reader Series

Words in Total: 105k

Pairings: Michael Scofield x Reader: afab x reader

Synopsis: Y/N was a victim of the mob since the age of fifteen, however, falling in love with the wrong guy and having an argument got her 25 years in prison for murder. She had a plan to get out in faith of her husband until she met Michael Scofield, who, despite his plan, fell in love with her. Now she has the mob and Michael Scofield's escape to worry about. Based on Season 1 & 2 of 'Prison Break'.

Warnings: Swearing, Prison, Murder, Pregnancy, Miscarriage, Alcohol, Smut, Steamy Scenes etc. you know the deal...

Hope you enjoy :)

Wattpad Link

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Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Sixteen

Chapter Seventeen

Chapter Eighteen

Chapter Nineteen

Chapter Twenty

Chapter Twenty-One

[kyleoreillylover]

Hell is Easier with You

Michael Scofield x Fem!Black!Reader

Summary: You get hurt while exploring in the vents, and Michael has to take hurt you in order to take care of you. But you realize going through hell is easier with him by your side.

a/n: writing for other things than the wwe now, but lemme know if you also wanna be tagged in those!!

warnings: burn, injury, etc.

The plan was in motion. Every minute, every breath in this cell felt like it was ticking down the clock to Lincoln's execution. It was getting tighter, the pressure, the weight on your shoulders. You and Michael were locked in your cell, side by side. Silent, focused, but there was always that unspoken connection between you both—a bond that ran deeper than the walls around you.

He trusted you, and you trusted him. That’s why when he couldn’t check out the vents himself, you stepped up. There wasn’t time for hesitation, not with Lincoln's life on the line. But you didn’t expect the guards to be in the vents tonight.

Moving silently through the dim light of the prison, you crawled through the tight, suffocating space. It was hot, sweltering, but you had no choice but to push through. You were almost out when you heard the low mutter of voices—guards. You froze, heart pounding, palms sweaty, as they came closer.

Shit.

Your mind raced, body tensing, as you leaned too far into the hot metal pipes lining the vent, trying to avoid being seen. Pain shot through your body as the heat scorched your side.

The smell of burning fabric and flesh hit you instantly, but you bit your lip hard, refusing to scream, refusing to make a sound. Every instinct was telling you to cry out, but you swallowed it down, jaw clenched, eyes watering as you leaned away from the searing metal.

You couldn’t be discovered. Not here. Not now. Not when everything was so close to falling apart. So you gritted your teeth, forced yourself to crawl back, every movement agony, and made your way back to the hole that led into the cell.

When you slipped back into the small space you shared with Michael, the pain was excruciating, but you tried to steady your breath. You couldn’t fall apart now. You didn’t want to worry him—not when he already carried so much.

But as soon as Michael returned, one look at you and he knew something was wrong. He stepped closer, his eyes scanning your face with that familiar intensity, always so aware, always so protective.

"Are you okay?" he asked, voice low but firm. His gaze dropped to the side of your shirt, and he noticed the fabric stuck to your skin, the charred mark spreading across your side.

You flinched under his scrutiny, trying to brush it off. "It's fine. I just—it's nothing, Michael."

But it wasn’t nothing, and he knew it.

“Let me see,” he said, his voice leaving no room for argument. He gently lifted the side of your shirt, wincing when he saw the burn beneath it. His fingers hovered over the edge of the fabric, the torn and melted fabric clinging to your skin.

You tried to pull back, knowing what came next. "Michael, I’m fine—"

“You’re not fine,” he cut you off, his voice still low, but now laced with that familiar edge of concern. He was already moving, grabbing the sheet from the bunk and hanging it up across the cell for privacy. There was no one he trusted, no one allowed to see you like this except him.

“Michael, please—don’t," you whispered, the panic rising in your voice as you realized what he had to do. The pain was overwhelming now, the thought of peeling the fabric from your burned skin enough to make you feel lightheaded. "Just leave it. I’ll handle it."

But Michael knelt down in front of you, calm and steady. “I have to, okay? I need to get this off before it gets worse." He reached for you, pulling you gently into his lap, his arms wrapping around you with a quiet strength. "I’ll be as careful as I can. I promise.”

Tears blurred your vision, the burn throbbing with every heartbeat, but you couldn’t fight him on this. He was right. The fabric had to come off, no matter how much it hurt. And God, it was going to hurt.

He shifted you slightly, making sure your chest was pressed firmly against his, his arms wrapping around your waist to hold you in place. “Breathe, okay? Just breathe. I’ve got you.”

You nodded, though your body tensed in anticipation, your heart pounding so hard you thought it might burst from your chest. Michael’s hand moved to your side, fingers brushing against the edge of the burn. You jerked, the pain sharp, and he tightened his grip on you.

“Shhh,” he whispered softly, his breath warm against your ear. “I know it hurts, but I need you to hold still. Lean into me. I’m right here.”

You buried your face into his shoulder, every muscle in your body trembling as he slowly, carefully began to peel the fabric away from your skin. The pain was unbearable, a burning, searing agony that had you digging your nails into his arm, desperate for some kind of anchor.

A scream bubbled up in your throat, but you couldn’t let it out—not here, not with the guards so close. So you bit down on Michael’s shirt instead, muffling the sound as much as you could, tears streaming down your face.

“It’s okay,” Michael murmured, his voice a steady hum in your ear as he worked. “You’re doing great. Just a little more, I’m almost done. Stay with me.”

You were breathing hard now, your vision swimming as the pain made your head feel light.

"Stay with me," Michael repeated quickly, sensing the shift. He tipped your chin up gently, making you meet his gaze. "Don’t faint on me. Look at me, baby. Look at my eyes."

Your chest heaved as you fought to stay conscious, your gaze locking onto his. You focused on the cool, steady blue of his eyes, the way they always seemed to hold the weight of the world but still found room for you.

"I’m right here," Michael whispered, his thumb brushing against your cheek. "Just stay with me. You love my eyes, remember?"

Despite the pain, you gave a shaky laugh, but it ended in a choked sob as Michael gave the shirt one final rip, peeling it free from your burns.

You cried out, thrashing as the sharp agony ripped through you as you collapsed onto Michael even more than you already were. Michael caught you immediately, pulling you  further into his lap and wrapping his arms around you as tightly as he dared.

"It’s over," he whispered, pressing a kiss to your temple. "It’s done. I’ve got you."

You clung to him, your body trembling from the aftermath of pain and exhaustion. Michael’s hand stroked up and down your back, his touch as light as possible, offering comfort in the only way he knew how.

"You did so good," he whispered, his voice thick with emotion. "I’m so proud of you."

You nuzzled into the crook of his neck, letting his steady heartbeat calm the frantic rhythm of your own. His arms felt like the safest place in the world, and for a moment, you let yourself forget the sting of the burns, the suffocating walls of the prison, and everything else except the feel of Michael holding you.

"You need to go to the infirmary," Michael said softly, though you could tell he didn’t want to let you go.

You groaned, not wanting to face the questions that would come with the injuries. "What are we even gonna say?"

Michael gave you a small, reassuring smile, though his eyes betrayed his worry. "Don’t worry about that. I’ll take care of it." 

His fingers brushed lightly over your hair, and he kissed the top of your head, lingering for a moment. "For now, just stay with me."

You shifted slightly, still aching but comforted by the way Michael held you so protectively. He rested his chin on your head, his arms never loosening their hold on you.

"You're safe," he whispered. "As long as I’m here, I won’t let anything happen to you."

And in that moment, despite the pain, you knew he meant it.

[the-fo0l]

Micheal Scofield dating hcs

notes: it's criminal crazy kooky insane how little content there is for this show

warnings: gn reader, s1 lore, super soft fluff!!!! also idc if u think its out of charater let me be delulu

he's so babygirl

a very devoted boyfriend (im pretty sure i say that in all my hcs but its true!!)

just so soft and polite and gentle with you aaaaa

doesn't notice just how hard he's fallen for you until he has to be apart from you a long while

such a gentleman, his intentions towards you are always respectful

before you we're offical he had quite the crush on you

sometimes you could notice that cool, calm, witty demeanor of his becoming more bashful and jittery around you

daydreamed a lot about you and your potential future together. what it'd be like to live with you, to start the day by your side, how you'd show affection, how you'd express diffrent emotions, what you'd talk about, your niche interests and quirks— etc

slightly creepy but he did do a bit of research on you to make sure he hit it off with you as best as he could

always says good night and good morning, over text if not in person

just imagine waking up, still cuddling, but with a little distance so he can properly take in your sleepy morning face

him just gazing at you so lovingly, his gentle smile growing a little bigger seeing you open your eyes, then moving one hand from your waist to caress your cheek and murmur "good morning" with his sultry morning voice

GOOD LORDDD

he developed a new-found love for his job when you two started dating cause thanks to it he can properly provide for you

and provide he does

doesn't think you should have to work a day in your life (unless you wanted to)

he'd hate for you to stay at a job you're miserable at

super proud of you for all your accomplishments

when you have to seperate while walking to avoid something in the street, be immediately reaches back to interwine your fingers again

expresses all love languages in some way but 'acts of service' is his main one

amazing at gift giving and romantic gestures

just when you think he can't possibly out-do last year's anniversary/birthday gift he suprises you with something super elaborate and meaningful

absent-mindedly makes origami flowers for you at work. you'll also find them all over your apartment, some hidden, some in plain sight

at some point he started writing messages on them. some with the most loving praise you've ever heard and some w cheesy pickup lines

p.s. he grins ear to ear when he finds out you've got a special box for them all instead of throwing them away

when you're both still a little tired in the morning, or when either of you comes home after a long day, he peppers delicate kisses all over your face, ending with a deeper kiss to your lips

your touch just makes all the headaches of his day-to-day melt away

also takes both your hands and kisses your knuckles while looking at you with all the love and admiration in the world god lord

okay enough with the kissing!

always opens doors for you

compliments you often, and always uses words like stunning or beautiful instead of "hot

loves making you flustered with praise

he's an amazing listener, and he looooves listening to you talk

also, he's quite intense with the eye-contact

he thinks you're the most gorgeos person in the world what can i say

it might seem like he's not paying attention sometimes cause of how lost-in-your-eyes he seems but i assure you he remembers every little thing you say

nods along and hums a little to let you know he's listening

"i remember you said you liked this, so i got it for you" typa guy

you're happy = he's happy

will often sometimes call you to talk about nothing really important, more just for the sake of hearing your voice

and if you're not much of a talker that's fine too, the silent moments you share are never awkward

he's canonically super observant, so if you changed anything about your apperance or if you were in a bad mood he'd notice right away, even if you tried to hide it

great at comfort too, that silky-smooth voice of his knows exactly what to say

he's a very handsome guy (i mean cmon just look at him) so he tends to get hit-on quite a bit

he'd always brushed it off before but ever since he set his sights on you he's been very adamant on very clearly and quickly rejecting others' attempts

when he was making plans to break linc out of prison, a huge amount of his focus went to making sure you were kept safe during the whole process

having you be there from him after news broke and after linc got the death sentence already meant so much to him

so when he trusted you the broad strokes of his plan, and you supported him??? ohmygod this man fell in love with you all over again

yes, he was worried, but he had to tell you, spending days obsessing over prison schematics and getting full body tattoos is rather hard to hide from the love of your life after all

granted, he could have broken up with you and tried to rekindle after he'd escaped, but be fr he could never bring himself to dump you

you never know what may go wrong, and his love for you wasn't exactly a secret, so he took every precaution he could (as in like if someone wanted to harm you cause of your association with him)

he was still super anxious to let go of you

gave you the most passionate and desperate kiss before he went to prison

gets really really homesick for you

calls you whenever he can

would sometimes get teary-eyed from how hard he misses you before falling asleep in his bunk

would lose his mind if something didn't go according to his carefully constructed plan and put you at risk, cause there's not much he can do to control what happens outside foxriver. if t-bag ever found out about you he'd. freak. out.

he's willing to go to great lengths for the people he cares about (it's like the whole plot of the show), so you'd better not play w his beloved

on the rare occasions he has down-time in prison his thoughts always go to you and what you might be up to

he's surrounded by murderers daily and has the gall to be worried about you

sucre would pester him about his love-life a lot. insisting that he recognized yearning in michael's distant expression and saying that no single man could've helped him woo maricruz with that letter (michael writes love letters for you too)

sucre does eventually pull it out of michael and becomes just the biggest supporter of your relationship

this was kinda messy huh

[chiquita99]

Prison Life Can Be Tough**

Summary: You are known as the wife of Michael Scofield. Unfortunately many people in your prison have a hate for him but you are the closest they can get to him. Michael fights for your survival.

⚠️ warnings ⚠️ None

_____________________________________

"Prison life can be tough" the warden states as she rises from her desk and walks to face Scofield.

Michael has his hands on his hips in a thinking matter.

"If I remember correctly, you have two missing toes that can attest to that" She stated.

"You're not listening to my words. Y/N is NOT SAFE HERE" Michael shouts and glares at the she warden dressed in a suit.

He regains composure and continues in a more calm tone.

"Please" he sighs, "please just approve the transfer to another facility. Too many people here have a hit for me and Y/N shouldnt receive that punishment".

The warden makes a face and replies "If I grant her a transfer, everybody's gonna want one".

Michael quickly tosses another option out "What about segregrated housing?"

The warden looks at him peculiarly and advances like predator to prey, "Is there something that I should know about the structural integrity of SHU?".

Michael scoffs in annoyance "I see where this is going".

"I know who you are. And I'm not going to let you turn my prison into the next Fox River" She tells him in a stone cold tone.

"All I'm trying to do, is keep my wife alive. Someone tried to posion her today and have you seen what marks are on her face" he replies and takes a step forward just as she did, "You do know she's pregnant".

"I don't care" she replies just as coldly.

Michael looks away in disbelief.

"In case I haven't made myself clear--Y/N Y/L/N is not getting any preferential treatment" the warden says as a final statement.

[Later]

"Hey baby" Michael smiles as you sit in the chair across from him at the conjugal table.

"Hi my love" you respond.

Michael focuses on the bruising that's on your face.

He raises his hand to your cheek and gently strokes where a nasty red mark sits.

You close your eyes and sigh.

Sigh in relief he is here but also at how unfortunate events have turned out in here.

"I'm sorry this is happening to you" he tells you, not being able to look away from the beating evident on your face.

"It is what it is" you respond.

Michael watches you bring the back of your hand to your mouth. It felt like you had to burp or vomit.

You close your eyes, focusing on something different than how you are feeling right now.

"What is it?" Michael questioned with concern.

"Only nausea" you tell him, "I think it's my stress and the baby".

"I understand baby" he says and puts his hand ontop of yours on the table.

"Anyone who touches you, will lose a lot more than they bargain for" Michael says gruffly.

"Don't be like that Michael. There's no good in both of us incarcerated" you tell him, one hand on your nauseous stomach.

"I'm getting you out of here" he whispers and squeezes your one hand firmly.

You scoff in frustration.

"What did I just say Michael" you tell him.

"We will dissappear in Dominican Republic and you can finish your pregnancy in peace" he smiles softly.

"Our babies will pick plantains off the farms and swim in the ocean while we sunbathe and get drunk off margaritas"

You hum a sweet smile, "I would love it".

"I'm going to make it happen baby" he assures you.

"When are you coming in?" You ask in a whisper.

"Tomorrow" he says.

[random-imagines-blog]

Imagine getting separated from Michael while on the run.

Michael ended up running through the left hallway with Lincoln behind him while you took the right, not looking where you were going because you were so desperate to get away from the monster that is Theodore Bagwell. A lot of the men who were going through these halls had a buzzed haircut, it was easy for you to get confused. But that’s not the way that Michael was going to see things when he realized.

Reaching the air vent, he climbed through. His determination was his guiding light through the plan that he had concocted. The plan to get out of this prison and live a life without you in a place without guards, the threat of the electric chair, or criminals all around. Have beers with Lincoln on the weekends, soak up sun on the beach and feel the sand beneath your toes, make love in a bed with silk sheets.

When Michael, Lincoln and the rest of the men that were in on the plan finally reached the fresh and sunny air, heading over to the getaway vehicle that was parked and ready to go, the mastermind of the plot finally looked behind him to reach for your hand.

But it wasn’t there.

He slowed to a stop and looked around. He could hear commands being given - orders were out to stop him. But he did not hear your voice, nor did he see your face. His eyes squinted against the glare of the sun but he still could not make heads or tails of where you were.

“Michael!” Lincoln shouted. “We’ll come back.”

Michael turned towards the car slowly and made his way, closing his eyes. He knew the chances of coming back here and escaping again were slim to none. But he would come up with something to help you escape. Truly escape.

[mr-panda357]

So I like just started watching prison break completely unprompted but it feels like its literally everywhere on social media rn?! Like my tik Tok fyp keeps showing me stuff related to it and they were all made very recently, so obviously the fandom is alive and well?!? So my question is why there is like a serious lack of fanfics for it? Like I've found hardly anything on here or Ao3. 😔 (at least pertaining to Michael, who as the main character should probably have more stuff about them?!?)

[apprenticestanheight]

heyy pleaze can you do a michael scofield smut but it’s the readers first time and he’s so sweet and caring 😫😫

Hi! I've said this before but I don't currently write for prison break and I don't see myself writing for the show at all any time soon. I hope you find someone else willing to write this fic out for you but that person won't be me seeing as this blog is horror centric these days and will be staying that way.

[hvnlygrl]

⌞ LOVE’S TEETH ⌝

જ⁀➴ pairing | michael scofield x reader

જ⁀➴ warnings | mention of the company, fluff, angsty

જ⁀➴ synopsis | michael scofield was an enigma, one that you’d grown to know and love from the time you were 13. you’d been with him through fox river, sona, ogygia, and everything else in between, with the hopes that it was all finally over. however, a wolf at your doorstep starts the next quest and tears your world to shreds.

જ⁀➴ april 16th | april blurb queue

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

loving michael scofield was like being tied to the edge of a hurricane — erratic, scary, and somehow the most fun thing you’d ever experienced.

you never quite understood anything that was going through his mind at any given time, but you knew there was always something. it took a lot before people finally started giving michael the credit he deserved, his reservedness making others assume that he wasn’t nearly as smart and cunning as he truly was.

but michael was a genius, in every sense of the word. because of his high intelligence, though, he saw every possibility, every outcome, and his mind never stopped reeling about the what if’s.

especially when it came to you helping on things. he spent more time being distraught about the possibility of the enemy capturing you or you getting hurt in the crossfire then he did actually letting you be useful.

you loved michael, loved him more than anything else in the world, but at times he was scary and closed off — you wanted him more than ever in those moments. needed him like a fresh breath of air in a contaminated room.

michael was everything to you, and you were everything to him. he’d spend hours at night thinking about you and the future he wanted for the two of you together. the beautiful house out in some gorgeous farmland, animals and kids and pets and a home with both parents that would stay and love their kids like no other.

he would give his children the life he never received growing up. but until then, he was trapped in the present day reality of all the shit going on around him. not with the wolf that following him everywhere, no matter where he went. it already had his scent — there was no getting away from it forever.

“michael,” you call out to him from across the table, “were you listening to me?”

“what?” he snaps out of his mind, shooting you an apologetic glance, “uh, no, sorry.”

“i was asking what you wanted for dinner,” you repeat softly, “what’s going on in that mind of yours?”

it had been 2 years since ogygia and everything else, but he had a feeling that there was another storm brewing that was coming for the two of you. you shared a quaint apartment, decorated scarcely yet still cozy and comfortable.

“i don’t know,” he sighs as he shakes his head, “it’s probably nothing.”

“michael, i’ve known you since we were 13, if somethings bothering you it never ends up being nothing.”

“i just have this bad feeling — like something’s coming.”

“something or someone?”

“that’s what’s bothering me.”

you nod before getting up from the table and moving to sit on his leg. “hey, whatever it is, we’ll get through it. just like we’ve gotten through everything else.”

he gazes at you silently, his piercing blue eyes committing every part of you to memory just as he’d done a million times before. you lean down until your foreheads are touching, the tips of your noses barely brushing against each other. each of your eyes are closed, simply relishing in the feeling of being in each other’s space.

michael wraps his arms around you tightly as he closes the gap between your lips, kissing you ever so tenderly.

and as fast as the moment turned sweet, it turns sour.

michael pulls away quickly, face full of stress and anger as he hears the footsteps outside the front door. “go,” he motions quietly to the bedroom, “lock box.”

your heart contorts with anger and pure heart break at the fact that every single time you had something good going with michael the company or whoever the fuck it was this time was there to send your world crashing down again.

you follow michael’s instructions speedily and efficiently, already knowing the processes since you’d been through them with him a thousand times over.

you retrieve two gun with silencers, one for yourself and one for him. you load them quickly and hand it off to him, following his lead as he starts getting the exit ready.

just as he’s about to let you out the window to the fire escape, the front door to the apartment is kicked open.

the wolf found him, sinking its teeth into his world of love once again.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

hvnlygrl 2025 ©️

@ultravi0lence14

[jansqu]

Soft morning (Michael Scofield X Reader)

You're awakened by the sun hitting your face.

Lying next to Michael, you feel his strong arm wrapped tightly around you. Even in his sleep, he makes sure to keep you close and safe. For once, he looks completely at ease—his usual concern nowhere to be seen.

Slowly, you lift your hand, placing it against his bare chest. You trace the ink on his skin, following the lines from his shoulders to his abs, then back up to his chest.

"Whatcha doing?"

His voice is thick with sleep, but you can hear the smile in it.

"Admiring," you say softly, not lifting your gaze from his tattoos.

He chuckles. That raspy morning voice of his makes you melt.

Without a word, he moves his hand to your hip, carefully turning you onto your back until he's hovering over you. His eyes search yours, a small smile tugging at his lips.

"And what are you doing?" you ask in return.

He brushes a hand through your hair, his touch gentle.

"Admiring."

Time stretches between you, each second thick with something unspoken. Then, finally, he leans in and presses a soft kiss to your lips.

"We should probably get up and make breakfast," you whisper.

"You sure?" he asks, amusement flickering across his face before he leans in again.

This kiss is deeper, pulling you both into a slow, lingering rhythm. You slide your hands around his neck, bringing him closer as he supports himself on either side of you. His lips travel to your neck, your collarbone, your chin—his nose grazing your skin, sending a shiver down your spine. You wrap an arm around his waist, closing the space between you until his lips finally return to yours.

He pauses for a moment, just looking at you.

You take the chance to say, "I love you."

"I love you more," he murmurs before kissing you again.

Just as you're lost in the moment, a sudden noise breaks the silence—a low crumpling sound.

You both freeze. A beat passes.

"Was that your stomach?" you ask, grinning.

"Maybe," he chuckles.

Laughing, you shake your head. "Okay, now we're definitely getting up for breakfast."

"As you wish," he says, stealing one last kiss before letting you go.

[twohearts-hs]

Defying The Odds: 1 - Michael Scofield x Reader Series

Words in Total: 2.6k

Pairings: Michael Scofield x Reader: afab x reader

Synopsis: Y/N was a victim of the mob since the age of fifteen, however, falling in love with the wrong guy and having an argument got her 25 years in prison for murder. She had a plan to get out in faith of her husband until she met Michael Scofield, who, despite his plan, fell in love with her. Now she has the mob and Michael Scofield's escape to worry about.

Warnings: Swearing, Prison, Murder, etc. you know the deal...

A/N: this is a complete series of ~105k words. Based on Season 1 & 2.

Hope you enjoy :)

Masterlist

Y/N stepped off the transport bus, eyes squinting against the harsh midday sun. Her eyes scanned the area in front of her. Up, down, left, right and then finally straight ahead. In front of her was the largest prison she had ever come across with in her life. However, she knew one thing which Sebastian warned her about…no one got out of Fox River.

            She glanced up at the towering gates of Fox River Penitentiary – a fortress of steel and stone that swallows hope whole. Taking a deep breath, she glanced down to her cuffed hands and feet before glancing to the guards around her.

            Calculating…she was calculating everything around her.

            She could hear the shouting of prisoners echo faintly from inside, a sharp reminder of what lies ahead. However, as much as she could get over going to prison…she did go to summer camp growing up and both were so similar in her opinion. It was the fact that the judge ruled to send her to a male prison due to her crimes.

            Fucking Sebastian… There was one thing she knew for certain, and it was she was going to get her revenge on him.

            Him and his lack of loyalty to her because she was a woman even though she showed her loyalty since the age of fifteen when she used to run drugs at school for him. Now, he needed to get the Feds off his trail and dropped her name. As well, as an argument.

            Charged with six murders, all first degree and even if she did do it…they deserved it. It was a secret she was going to bring it to the grave – even if she did not do it. She would never tell anyone that the knife that slit the throats of those six men was her. She was loyal to Sebastian and his organisation – had been since fifteen.

            A officer stood by the entrances, arms crossed, is face twisted into a smirk. His beady eyes scanned over her figure which was not much as she was wearing a male prison suit. However, still a shiver ran through her.

            Y/N’s eyes darted from his twisted face to the tag on his uniform – Bellick. Noted, a pervert.

            “Welcome to your new home, sweetheart. You’ll learn real quick that this ain’t no country club. A woman in a men’s prison…can’t wait to see how this unfolds.”

            Y/N doesn’t respond. She holds her chin high, refusing to give him the satisfaction of seeing fear in her eyes.

            “Not my first rodeo being stuck with a bunch of boys, Officer Bellick,” she responded. “There’s a science to it.”

            “Smart, witty. I read your file, Y/L/N. Did you seduce them before you slit their throat?” he remarked.

            Y/N’s smirk fell, glancing down to the floor then retorting, “Wouldn’t you like to know.”

            “Cockiness is going to get you no where.”

            Behind her stood two guards that pushed her forward and through the heavy iron doors. Once inside, Y/N noticed instantly how the air was stifling, a mix of sweat, grime and despair. The clanging of cells doors slamming shut reverberates through the halls, each sound making her stomach knot a little tighter.

            ‘Do not be afraid,’ she kept telling herself. ‘You’re stronger than this.’

            Y/N kept her gaze straight ahead, her heart pounding in her chest as they lead her deeper into the belly of the prison. She came into the main holding area which was three floors of cells and instantly, eyes were on her.

            Inmates began to holler, whistle and remark her gender as she was a woman in a male prison. She was baffled at the fact she was here and probably they were too.

            ‘Stay strong.’

            It was all Sebastian’s fault. Every little thing was Sebastian fault, simply because she was loyal to him.

            Her eyes glanced down to the long-sleeved shirt and dark pants that did not fit her well enough but made do. However, as her eyes focused on the men around her, she could not help but know that every man in her was a criminal.

            And now she was too.

            The guards behind her were talking and she chose to tune it out, but she could not help but listen in when they said, “She won’t last a week.”

            Bellick came around and stood in front of her. “This is your cell. You’re part of gen pop even though your crimes should send you to ad-seg. Don’t go thinkin’ you’re special ‘cause you’re new, a woman or known as one of world’s deadliest assassins. You’re caught, you’re here, therefore you follow my orders. Rules here are simply: stay in line, keep your mouth shut, and do what you’re told. Got it?”

            Y/N nodded. “Yes, boss,” she stated.

            “Your lawyer did well with arguing you to get your own cell in the name of you being a woman and the several outcomes that lead from that. However, you will join the rest of the men in here for everything.”

            She nodded, though her mind was racing. She needed to stay focused, to keep her wits about her if she was going to survive this place. Additionally, she needed to figure out how everything worked if she was going to survive. Everything has a solution, an equation and a situation.

            Every cell was identical. However, hers seemed extra cramped, even though it looked like every other. The steel doors slides open with a loud screech before she was uncuffed and thrown in.

            “Cell 39. Home sweet home. Get in,” Bellick said.

            Y/N stepped inside, her breath catching in her throat as the bars slammed shut behind her with a finality that sends a chill down her spine. The space is claustrophobic – bare walls, a narrow bed, and a toilet in the corner. It was completely different to her penthouse in New York City where she called home since twenty-one.

            She stood in the centre of the cell, eyes scanning every corner. This was it. This was Fox River…her new reality.

            “Hope you enjoy the view. Yards’s in an hour. Try not to piss anyone off before or during then.”

            Y/N simply nodded, mumbled her reply and watched how Bellick and the guards turned and left her standing there, alone. The sound of their footsteps fading as they disapper down the hall. Y/N slowly lowered herself onto the bed, the thin mattress not giving her justice as the weight of prison settling in.

            She was here until Sebastian could get her out. She had faith because she knew, being in a men’s prison for twenty-five years was not in her cards. She pissed Sebastian off and he threw her in jail.

            Her own husband threw her in jail because he cared about the mob over her. Even if she did or did not kill those men.

            Y/N sits on the edge of her bed, trying to remain clam despite the lingering stares from the other inmates. It’s clear that being a woman in a men’s prison makes her an immediate target. The guards may have brought her to her cell, but she was on her own now.

            There would be a hierarchy and naturally it would turn into a patriarchy unless she made this place her bitch.

-

The clanging of metal doors echos through the hallways as a guard stood in front of her doors.

            “Yard time. Try not to get yourself killed,” he said. The guard gave her a half-hearted smirk, but Y/N ignored it, rolling her shoulders back and stepping out. She won’t give anyone the satisfaction of seeing fear on her face.

            The alarm went off and her door opened. She watched as inmates walked by and Y/N followed at the tail end. As they followed down the corridor, the murmurs and hollering started. Whispers growing louder, snickers turning into open taunts.

            A inmate in front of her turned around, spotting her following behind him. “Well, well, well…what do we have here? Fox River’s new toy?”

            She rolled her eyes.

            “Watch where you’re going or you might trip,” she responded.

            “Oh, she has a mouth. I know better ways-“

            “Mind your damn business,” Y/N barked. “I am not here to make enemies, lovers or friends. Now move on.”

            The guards around her barely react, only nudging her forward. The inmate’s voices swell as they approached the yard doors.

            “Bet she won’t last a day in here,” she heard from beside her.

            “I call dibs,” another one said.

            Y/N simply rolled her eyes.

            The door opens and Y/N stepped out into the yard. It’s crowded with inmates milling about in groups, playing basketball, lifting weights or just lounging around – until they see her. The air seems to shift, every eye on her.

            She scanned the crowd and shook her head, heading to the benches in the corner. As she walked across the open space with her head held high, her footsteps slow and deliberate, refusing to speed up. Y/N scans the yard, already calculating escape routes in her mind if something does go wrong.

            Where was the nearest exit?

            Her eyes circled until she found it. However, the murmurs grow louder, more aggressive.

            As she walked by inmates, she heard remarks. “Hey, sweetheart, you missin’ your girly magazines? Getting your hair done?”

            Y/N’s lip twitched, her fists clenching slightly, but she kept walking. No need to waste words on them.

            When she made it to the bleachers, a man appeared in front of her, blocking her with his greasy smirk, arms out wide like he’s welcoming her. The tension snaps tighter. Everything about him screamed disgusting or even perverted. He was skinny and almost malnourished and then he smirked, and a shiver went through her.

            “Look what we got here…Fox River’s newest little plaything all ready for someone to play with. Must be my lucky day.”

            His words hang in the air like poison. She rose a brow, stopped herself from saying a remark and then locked her gaze on this man, who was unflinching. Her eyes were cold, assessing. She could not afford to show weakness, but she knew exactly what to say.

            “Funny, I didn’t take you for the type to run is mouth without backup. I guess I was wrong.”

            The yard falls into a tense silence, a ripple of surprise at her response. The man’s smirk falters for a second before returning with even more malice.

            “Oh, sweetheart, you’ll find out soon enough. Ain’t nobody here to help you. Not like the women’s wing where it’s all about girl power, is it? You’re the prey here and we are the predators. Now,” he came closer, “you’re a pretty thing and someone like you needs protection in a place like this. T-Bag is the name-“

            “I think I will be quite alright,” Y/N said, getting up from the bleachers but he cut her off.

            “Girl, you’re on my side of town and I do not take no as a answer.”

            “Obviously then you’re a rapist,” she whispered to herself.

            However, he heard that. “What was that, girl?” he said lowly. “Speak louder and to my face or don’t speak at all.”

            Suddenly, a figure stepped out of the crowd that was beginning. He moved quietly but with purpose, standing in front of T-Bag, his back to Y/N.

            “Walk away, T-Bag,” he said lowly.

            T-Bag sneered, but there was something in this man’s eyes when he turned around to look at Y/N with a solemn look. He had kind eyes, she recognised, which was rare in this world, let alone in a prison.

            “Now go,” the man said.

            “Fine,” T-Bag stated with passion, “but we’ll see how long she lasts on her own. This is not a place where you fly solo especially if you’re a woman.”

            As T-Bag disappears into the crowd, the man with the buzzed head and sharp features turned to Y/N, his expression calm but concerned.

            “You ok?” he asked walking over to her and sitting next to her.

            Y/N pushed herself away from him. “I don’t need rescuing.”

            His eyes widened slightly, surprised by the intensity in her voice. He raised his hands in a peaceful gesture.

            “I wasn’t trying to-“

            “-I can handle myself.” Her tone was firm, but there was something in her eyes – a flicker of vulnerability she can not quite hide. She was strong, yes, but she was also exhausted. The constant weight of being in a place where she was always the target is heavier than she lets on.

            This man does not push, he just nods.

            “I know. But it doesn’t hurt to have someone watching your back.”

            “The last time I had someone looking out for me, they made sure I got in here,” she quipped. Their eyes met, the distance between them a half metre, but enough to hear one another. She studied him like she was trying to figure him out. There’s no threat in his eyes, no ulterior motive, Just quiet understanding.

            “Betrayal hurts especially from someone you love,” he responded.

            “What do you want from me? Mock me, a conversation with me?”

            He shook his head, leaning in slightly, his voice low so only she could hear. “Nothing. Just…be careful. This place has a way of testing you in ways you don’t expect.”

            For the first time. Y/N’s anger softened, just a fraction. There’s something about him – calculated, calm, but with an undercurrent of sincerity that makes her feel…safer than she had since she arrived.

            “Y/N,” she said, putting her hand out. “Y/N Y/L/N.”

            His smile came up lightly as he took her hand. “Michael Scofield.”

            She nodded, not saying anything at first, but simply processing.

            “Michael, I don’t need you to fight my battles,” she told him. Michael tilted his head, offering a small smile, more an acknowledgment than anything else.

            “I believe you.”

            Y/N glanced at him, surprised by his response. Most men would’ve pushed, tried to prove their strength or dominance. But not him.

            Y/N had studied men for the longest time. She knew how they acted, moved, whispered, purred and what motivated them. They were predictable and easy to read, but him…this man in front her. He was not open book rather he was a locked library.

            She exhales slowly, feeling the weight of prison and its dangers pressing in on her again.

            “Thanks,” she whispered, then glancing up from looking at her feet, “for stepping in. But next time, don’t. I don’t need a man to fight my battles when I am completely able to fight my own.”

            Michael nodded, his expression respectful, as if he was already learned to read her boundaries.

            “Understood.”

            Y/N finally cracked the tiniest of smiles, something she had not done in days. “You’re different, aren’t you?’

            Michael just shrugs, his eyes full of quiet understanding. “Just trying to survive. Same as you.”

            Y/N nodded. “Then can I propose we survive this together then? Because you Michael Scofield…are a different type of man and I know men quite well.”

            He nodded. “Deal.”

-

I hope you enjoyed! I had so much fun writing this.

Let me know your thoughts, opinions and comments! :)

Lots of love,

Ava <3

-

Taglist:

(let me know if you want to be tagged)

@enha-stars

[chiquita99]

*Just Buisness*

Summary: you are the prison's doctor and have caught feelings for Michael Scofield. You see him leave the Conjugal Visiting room with a beautiful women and can't help but feel led on Michael.

⚠️Warnings⚠️ None

_______________________________________

"Good morning doc" Michael says as he enters the exam room.

"Morning" you reply, not evening making eye contact with him.

Your eyes skimmed his chart as if you weren't familiar with his daily meds you administered. But really, you just needed an excuse to advert eye contact.

Michael can already pick up on your uneasiness.

His sight is locked on you and he takes a step towards you, hands in pockets.

"Take a seat please" you instruct him and gesture to the exam table.

You sign the document, saying you will present the medication for Scofield.

"Y/N" Michael says softly.

You have your back turned to him, putting his capsules in a small paper cup from the medical cabinet.

He reluctantly goes and takes a seat on the exam table.

You turn to bring him his medication.

As you outstretched your hand to give him his medication, his fingers grazed yours.

You craved his touch.

You craved more.

But then the thoughts of him touching another woman, made you repel and draw back your hand.

Michael took the paper cup with its contents.

His blue eyes looking in the cup and then at yours that were refusing to meet his.

"Y/N..." Michael says softly, honing in on what might be the cause of this tension between you two.

You clear your throat and then reply "Michael..."

You finally meet his icy blue gaze and it makes you want to melt and attack his lips with yours, but you have to stay firm.

There was a moment of silence before he says "yesterday we were knocking over cotton balls and cotton swabs with our aggressive kissing....like we were starved of such contact...."

He sighs in confusion "....and now....it is like it didn't even happen"

You scoff at his ignorance.

"Are you using me for gratification? You need the sex? You're so desperate that you don't even try to hide who visits you" you tell him in frustration.

He shakes his head in disbelief.

"You can tell me the truth" you tell him, slight anger in your voice.

He doesn't meet your gaze now.

"You're a convict and I'm a doctor.....did you really think we were--"

He grabbed the side of your face and pushed his tongue past your lips.

You froze in surprise.

His kiss was strong, warm, and persistent to not finish with you.

His hand slid behind your head and pulled you into him even more.

Eventually you need a small gasp of air.

Michael was first to speak.

"She wasn't of importance" he told you, stroking his thumb along your cheek.

His blue eyes bore into yours, just inches from your face.

"Then why was she on your visitor list?" You asked.

"It is just business, y/n" he replied.

"Don't feed me that bull--" you were cut off by another kiss.

"Baby" he smiled, "no attitude".

"Or what" you remark.

He smirks and tells you "I will show what papi can do"

You bite your lip and look away a little pink in the cheeks.

He tilts your chin up to look at him.

"I only want you baby. You're my one and only"

"I am the one and only. I will chemically castrate you otherwise" you wink at him, noting the medical cabinet with many possibilities.

He softly chuckles.

You spot the pill cup and a nurse walking by the window.

You take his hand that holds the paper cup.

"Time to get going" you tell him.

He gives his smouldering smile.

The one that makes you want to rip his clothes off.

He takes his pills in a quick motion and then kisses your forehead as he crinkles the cup and stands up.

"See you later baby" he says.

"See you later Mike" you smile.

[enha-stars]

now where are the michael scofield fics

[deebris]

Choices

Alexander Mahone x Wife reader

Synopsis: In the Sona prison, Mahone receives an unexpected visit from his wife, who secretly traveled from the United States to Panama, under the guise of her work at the embassy. Seeing his terrible condition, you tries to convince him to testify in court in exchange for a better place to stay, closer to you and the baby you're expecting—news he only learns at that moment.

Warnings: Drugs, pregnancy, angst, It takes place during the 3rd season of Prison Break.

Word count: 3k

“Mahone, you have a visitor!” The loudspeaker's voice echoed across the yard, cutting through the hot, heavy air of Sona.

The announcement put Alex on high alert. A visitor? Confusion and distrust swirled in his mind. As far as he knew, no one besides his lawyer had been looking for him, and he had seen him just the day before. Still, he followed the guard to the transfer area, where prisoners were taken to the makeshift “cage” meant for visits.

The guard, with a careless posture, remained at a safe distance, as everyone there preferred to keep their distance from the inmates. Narrowing his eyes against the blazing sun, Alex asked the guards as they prepared him for escort, “Who came to see me?”

No answer.

“Hey! I asked something!” Irritation and anxiety leaked into his voice, but he was only met with a rough shove on the shoulder, signaling that he should start walking.

The damp hallways of Sona were nothing new, but the route they were taking now puzzled him. Instead of turning right as usual, the guard led him left. “Where are you taking me?” He asked, louder now, almost frantic.

“You’ll find out.” The guard's tone was indifferent, as though Mahone's growing anxiety was irrelevant.

Alex’s mind raced. This had all the signs of a trap. If the Company was involved, he knew his already dire situation could only get worse.

Soon they arrived at a metal door. It opened with brutality, and Alex was shoved inside before he could protest.

The room was dark, barely lit by a hanging lamp, but the smell and temperature were different from the usual areas in Sona. He blinked a few times to adjust his vision, and then he heard it.

“Alex?”

The voice was sweet, like an unexpected balm. That voice. Her voice. The same one he used to hear first thing every morning, before everything fell apart, before Scofield, before Sona.

“Y/n…” He whispered, incredulous, thinking he was having another hallucination.

You quickly stood up from the chair when you saw him. He looked so tired, so beaten down. He was a shadow of the man you once knew. “What did they do to you?” You lamented, your fingers hesitantly tracing his hair, smoothing over his sweaty skin in search of injuries.

For a moment, Alex froze. It couldn’t be that you were here, in front of him. Was it a dream? An overwhelming relief flooded his body, weakening his legs, as though he might collapse any second. He started to pull away from you, as if refusing to let himself see you there, and that’s when you knew he wasn’t mentally stable.

“Alex.” You repeated his name, this time with affirmation, as you tried to calm him like a frightened animal. “Sweetheart, it’s me.”

“My love…” His voice came out shaky, broken, before you pulled him into a tight embrace. He buried his face in your shoulder, inhaling your scent like a man who had found air after nearly drowning. Despite his condition, he realized you were different, though he couldn’t tell how.

“I thought I wouldn’t see you again,” you murmured in his ear. When you pulled away, you noticed his red eyes, his worn-out skin. “A federal agent came to our house.”

The words made Alex sit up alert, his gaze quickly darting to the guard standing outside. This wasn’t normal.

“How did you get in here?” He asked, a mix of concern and admiration in his voice.

“American embassy.” You gave a melancholic smile. “They think it’s a consular visit, so they didn’t question much.”

Alex nodded, almost smiling at the irony. “Of course.” He remembered your position, your ability to find loopholes in rigid systems.

You guided him to a chair, and he collapsed into it without resistance. “I brought water,” you said, opening the bottle and bringing it to his lips. He drank desperately, as if he’d never tasted anything so pure.

“I heard things about this place, so I came prepared,” you continued, showing him a package of food. “Eat.”

Alex took the bread with trembling hands, devouring it without thinking, without caring about being polite, but he suddenly stopped. He placed his hand over yours, a gesture filled with repressed emotion.

“Thank you…” He murmured, his voice heavy with guilt and gratitude.

You tried to smile, but you couldn’t hide the tears. It was devastating to see him in this condition, and lately, you had been feeling more emotionally sensitive than usual. Carefully, you pulled a small vial from your pocket, placing it in his palm.

Alex froze, staring at the pills. He knew what they were. He knew the relief they would bring. But he also knew the shame they would bring to both of you.

“I know you're not well.” Your voice was soft but firm. “Just... do what you need to.”

He closed his eyes, swallowing one of the pills with water, and didn’t thank you. Alex couldn’t bring himself to, knowing how much you hated this, and seeing the situation he’d put you in made him feel disgusting.

When he opened his eyes, you were already preparing the rest of the food, trying to push aside the weight hanging in the air. You couldn’t take him out of Sona, but you would do anything to ease his pain, even if just for a few moments.

Alex accepted every gesture of care you offered, allowing himself to relax under the comforting touch of your hands. Feeling your fingers brushing the hair from his face while he ate brought an unexpected warmth, a long-lost familiarity. It was as though, for a brief moment, the brutality of this place didn’t exist.

“How much time do we have?” He asked, hesitantly, as if fearing the answer would be a final blow to his hope.

“An hour.” Your answer was gentle, but practical. You took a change of clothes from your bag, something you had hidden along with the water and food. “I brought this. You might not be able to take a shower, but changing into something clean might help a little.”

Alex looked at the clothes with a mixture of gratitude and sadness before beginning to change. You tried to look away to spare him the discomfort of your pity, but your eyes inevitably fell on his physical condition. He had always been strong, but what used to be defined muscles were now starting to give way to protruding ribs. It was incredible what just a few days could do to a human being.

"It's funny," you commented, trying to break the heavy silence. "Technically, I should be here to check if the prison offers adequate conditions."

Alex let out a bitter laugh as he pulled the clean shirt over his shoulders. "Are you going to send a report?" The question came laced with sarcasm.

"I will," your reply was dry, almost ironic. However, your gaze remained fixed on him, watching every small sign of wear and tear. Seeing your husband like this, so vulnerable and distant from the man you knew, was almost unbearable. But you couldn’t allow him to notice.

The silence that followed was full of unsaid meanings, a mutual understanding of what this place was doing to him—and, by extension, to you.

It wasn’t long before Alex pulled you closer, his body pressed against his as you sought comfort in each other. He kept a firm arm around your waist as if afraid you might disappear at any moment. His chin rested softly on your head, and the sound of his breathing was the only consolation in the silence of that place. Alex wanted to freeze time, memorize your scent, the feeling of having you there, before returning to the hell that was Sona.

"I managed to get lawyers this week. They are working on your case." Your voice broke the silence that had settled between you two, bringing up a topic he didn’t want to discuss. "I’m going to try to ask for a transfer, to move you to another prison."

The words hit like a blow. He was many things, but innocent wasn’t one of them. Yes, he was here for a crime he didn’t commit, but what about the ghosts of the past? The atrocities he had committed when he was still with the FBI? He wondered why you kept fighting for him, even knowing what he was capable of.

"If I go back to the States, I’ll get a life sentence..." he murmured, his voice laden with discouragement as he turned his gaze away.

"No, you won’t." Your firmness contrasted with his resignation. You touched his face, forcing him to look at you. "I met with a former colleague of yours. The government is willing to make a deal if you cooperate."

"Eight years, Alex."

The mention of the deal didn’t bring relief. On the contrary, he shook his head in denial, cutting you off before you could continue. "I heard that this morning. I’m not going to stay in prison for eight years." His voice was sharp, filled with contained anger. "Scofield set me up on that boat. He put me here; he’s going to get me out."

Michael Scofield’s name came out with so much venom that it made you blink, surprised. But you quickly regained your composure.

"His brother found me," you said, trying to soften the tone, which didn’t go unnoticed.

"Lincoln Burrows?" Alex furrowed his brows, suspicious. "What did he want with you?"

"I’m not sure," you hesitated, crossing your fingers, fearing his reaction. "He asked me to visit Michael, but he didn’t explain why. He just... asked."

He turned away, his mind racing. Michael had never been straightforward with him. Always calculating, manipulative. Lincoln showing up right now, hours before something big was going to happen, wasn’t a coincidence. This was a move.

Michael knew you were an ambassador. Your position could be the key to helping them disappear, to return to the U.S. as free men. This couldn’t be a slip-up. Either it was an attempt to distract Alex and keep him out of the way, or it was a clue—an invitation for him to join the plan.

"He put me here!" Alex exploded, his fist slamming onto the table with force before he managed to control himself. He closed his eyes, breathing deeply, trying to tame the anger. "Sorry." His voice came out softer, almost a whisper. "But if that’s the case, you’re going to have to visit all the idiots who came here. The embassy is going to ask questions when they see your reports."

"It’s fine." Your reply came calmly, as always. This irritated him, but it also comforted him. You never lost your composure, and most of your arguments were because of him.

"You shouldn’t worry about me." He shook his head, turning away once more. "You have your life out there. Your job, our house... I’ve lost everything. You need to move on."

"Alexander!" Your voice cut through the air, strong and determined, freezing him. It was rare to hear you in that tone, full of emotion and authority. "You need to get out of here, do you hear me?!"

You gripped his shirt tightly, your gaze locked on his with intensity. Something in your determination broke his defenses, making it impossible for him to hide in self-pity.

"I’m pregnant..." You finally whispered, your voice trembling. "And..." The sentence died before you could finish it, the weight of the revelation visible on your face.

Alex froze, shock written all over his face.

"Eight years, Alex!" You continued, your voice echoing through the room, but this time you weren’t calm at all. "I’m willing to wait for you for eight years, even after everything you’ve done! Even after the crimes you committed! Do you think it’s easy to come here and say what I’m telling you? I should feel like the worst person in the world for giving you another chance."

The words hung in the air, heavy. He tried to process what he had just heard, but the impact was overwhelming. The world around him disappeared, leaving only you, who now looked at him with repulsion, and the revelation of a new life growing between you, and your unwavering determination.

Alex felt a lump in his throat, his thoughts a whirlwind. You were willing to wait? Despite everything he had done, the man he was... you still believed in him. And that hit him deeper than any word or gesture before.

"You..." He started, but his voice faltered. He closed his eyes, searching for the strength to speak. "I... I don’t even know what to say."

"Then, don’t say anything." Your voice came out muffled as you buried your face in his chest, tears silently streaming down. "Just promise me you’ll think about it before you give a definitive no. A relatively light sentence, in a prison close to home... You’ll be able to see our baby grow."

Alex remained silent, the words reverberating in his mind like echoes of a truth he couldn’t face. Instead of responding, he simply held you against him, as if that gesture could protect you from an invisible danger — or perhaps something he couldn’t comprehend. And in that moment, something inside him changed; the gravity of reality enveloped him, bringing with it a weight he had never felt before.

"It’s... watching as a spectator in the VIP section, unable to participate in anything." He murmured, his voice heavy with sarcasm and bitterness. He leaned back, resting one hand on the back of the chair as he looked at the beams of light slipping through the window.

"It’s still something." His voice trembled, tears once again streaming down. You felt the weight of his words as rejection. He was denying the chance you had, the only real chance to rebuild your life together. Unable to maintain his gaze, you turned your eyes away.

"This is all because of the baby, isn’t it?" Although the question might sound passive-aggressive, as if he were accusing you of something, Alex remained calm, his voice laden with caution. You were the only person who, at that moment, seemed to genuinely care about him, the only one he wanted a chance to ask for forgiveness. "You wouldn’t accept me if you weren’t pregnant. Please, be honest." His voice trembled in the last sentence, a desperate plea for honesty.

The silence that followed terrified him. He saw your expression change, as if his words had broken something inside of you. But before fear could take over, the flame of anger reignited in his chest. How could he think that? How could he believe your intentions were so cold, so calculated? That you only wanted him back because of the baby, and not because of him?

Suddenly, you stood up. The urgency in your movements revealed the mix of frustration and pain. The things you had brought for him were left on the table carelessly, and you adjusted the strap of your bag on your shoulder.

Alex made no move to stop you. He knew he had two hours to leave there, and that he needed to return to his plan before it was too late. But there was something he couldn’t ignore: the sound of your ragged breathing as you tried to hold back your tears.

Before you could fully cross the door, he grabbed your arm. For a brief moment, his eyes fell on the ring on your finger, before shifting away again.

"Goodbye, Alex." His voice sounded cold, but he felt the hurt hidden beneath the words. You weren’t giving up on him — he knew that. But he also knew something inside you had broken. "They’re going to search you when you leave, so hide the pills well." His warning was heard, making him look at the bottle.

"I love you. Stay safe." These were the only words you could find to reassure him, to dispel his doubts and reaffirm that you were there for him — for him and for the family you were building together. And, in that moment, he understood.

You whispered the words like a breath, and before he could respond, you disappeared through the door, leaving him alone with his own demons.

Alex remained still, staring at the empty space in front of him. The sound of the door closing echoed in his mind, as loud as the weight of the decisions he needed to make.

He ran a hand over his face, exhaling slowly. The flame inside him burned stronger now, but he wasn’t sure if it was courage or desperation. One thing he was certain of: whatever he did next, it wouldn’t be just for him.

The silence in the room seemed to weigh even heavier after you left. Alex stood there, still feeling the remnants of your presence, the echo of the words you exchanged, the gentle touch of your hand, a constant reminder that the things he feared could truly happen. What was he to do with the love you offered him? And with the anger of being seen as a weak man, dependent on a situation he couldn’t control?

He knew he had to make decisions, and quickly. The battle he was fighting was not just against the system, nor against the past. It was against the image he had of himself. He knew something inside him had turned over when he heard the words you didn’t dare finish. You were willing to wait, to keep loving him despite everything, and he wondered if he deserved that sacrifice.

He glanced once more at the table, where the small bottle of pills rested as a reminder of the situation he was trying to hide. Maybe that was the most precious thing he had now — a way to escape, to regain control. But the words you said kept coming back to his mind: “I’m pregnant...”

Alex felt the pressure in his chest grow. It wasn’t just his freedom’s future that was at stake now. It was the future of the family that, somehow, he still held a hope of building.

With a heavy sigh, he grabbed the bottle of pills and hid it in his sleeve, thinking about what to do next. The fight wasn’t over, but maybe there was a way out. Maybe it wasn’t too late to save what was left of his dignity — and maybe, just maybe, to do something right for once.

[oopsnewaccount]

Teddy Bear/Theodore Bagwell

⚠️DISCLAIMER - IN MY HEAD AND IN MY FIXS HE IS NOT A RAPIST OR PEDO AND THIS IS BECAUSE I WOULD DO HORRIBLY SLUTTY THINGS TO HIM IF GIVEN THE CHANCE AND I NEED TO GET MY HORNINESS OUT SOMEHOW AND THERE IS NO CONTENT FOR THIS MAN. LADIES AND GENTLEMEN I AM THIRSTY. THIS MAN MAKES ME FERAL.⚠️

Summary: You started sleeping in T-Bag's room because you needed him for comfort. You continued because you needed him for... something else.

Warnings: SMUT. Mentions of violence, PTSD.

...

The first time you slept in T-Bag's room was because you needed him. You were hard to read, you learned to be in prison. You maintained a level of secrecy designed to ensure your weaknesses could not be found. You watched more than you did, listened more than you spoke, and generally tried to make sure that you had a good read on those around you even if they knew nothing of you. It was how you operated.

When Gretchen took you... it was brutality like you had never seen. You tried to avoid looking at the ugly scars on your back, you slept with a gun beside you and a knife under your pillow. You hated the feeling of anything touching your wrists after being shackled for so long. Death would have been a dream locked up under her watch.

When you and LJ were handed over you isolated for days, only opening the door to your room in the compound when Michael or Sarah left food outside for you. When you and T-Bag broke into a charity event to steal the SCYLA card you thought for sure Gretchen had found you once again and you grabbed him and yanked him into a storage closet with you. In the cramped dark closet with a confused T-Bag you began to panic, gripping his arms until you're knuckles turned white. It took him a moment to understand what was happening. Slowly he wrapped his arms around you, running his hand through your hair and pressing your face into his neck. He hushed you, mumbling in your ear that it wasn't Gretchen, she was dead.

"Teddy's got you, sweetheart. Nobody is ever going to hurt you again, I'm here now."

It was that night that you knocked on T-Bag's door for the first time. You had laid in your bed tossing and turning for hours. If it was only an inability to sleep you would have just laid in bed, but it was also a suffocating feeling of paranoia. You felt like she was there with you.

You werent sure why it was him you needed, you suspected it was because he was the only one who had seen you panic like that. You had never been held by Sarah or Sucre or Alex or anyone else. You had never spoke more than what was necessary to any of them. You hadnt to T-Bag either, but you enjoyed his company. He made you crack a smile with his stupid one liners and witty comebacks.

You were half expecting T-Bag to be asleep. You jumped a bit when he opened the door, hair tousled and eyes half closed. He was wearing a tank top and boxers and took a moment to realize it was you standing outside his door.

"What a surprise. What can I do for you, Señorita?"

You weren't quite sure what to say. "I don't want to be alone," You admitted, chewing on your lip.

To your surprise, T-Bag didn't wink or make a suggestive comment, he simply stepped aside, motioning for you to enter.

You walked into his room, perching on the side of his bed. It was cold in his room, your legs and arms becoming littered with gooseflesh under your shorts and t shirt.

T-Bag laid down beside you, holding open the blanket for you to lay down with him. "You want to talk? Or just cuddle with Teddy?"

The childish language and third person referencing should have irritated you, but honestly, it was comforting. He seemed genuine, in his own T-Bag kind of way. So, you laid down beside him, facing away. You pulled one arm around you and laid your head over his other arm, just above his prosthetic. "Well now, making yourself comfortable, huh?"

You smiled, glad he couldn't see it. "What, is your arm gonna go numb?"

T-Bag chuckled, nuzzling his face into your neck. You hoped he didn't notice you shudder.

"I s'pose not."

You slept a bit that night, feeling warm and protected. You disappeared before he woke up.

...

The second time you slept in his bed was a few nights later. You went to him earlier that night, this time he greeted you with a smile and guided you in with his arm around you.

You did the same thing the next night, and the next, and a few more times. The difference was how late you stayed into the morning.

He never tried anything with you, never even initiated. He did wake up with a stiff cock in his shorts a few times, but most men did. He usually just rolled over. It was odd, seeing T-Bag be so careful with you. He'd always made comments before, and still did during the day - but not at night, not when you came to him in need.

...

This night was different. You needed Teddy to sleep, now. He referred to himself as Teddy Bear teasingly, but he was right. You needed his comfort, his warmth. And now, you needed something else.

You were completely naked under a large t shirt tonight. Your heart beat fast as you walked down the hallway. Your hair was down, your skin smooth from being freshly shaved and lotioned.

You knocked on the door, as always, and were greeted by a smiling Teddy, as always.

"I was beginning to worry you weren't coming, Sugar. I was getting a little tired."

You said nothing as you climbed in bed with him and waited to feel his warmth behind you. He settled in, onw arm under your head, one tucked around your waist, his face buried in your neck. He breathed in deeply, "You smell sweet," he mumbled. "It's nice."

"Thanks," You let your hand drop down to Teddy's, running your fingers over his wrist, "mind if I turn off the light?"

"'Course not."

You planned this, of course. Leaned up you made sure to stretch extra far, your shirt riding up under Teddy's hand and leaving it laying on your bare hip. You felt Teddy's fingers stiffen, realizing your shorts weren't under your shirt like they always were, nor were your underwear.

His voice lowered in your ear, hand locked onto your hip. "I think you forgot something, Miss Y/N."

"Did I forget anything else?"

Teddy didn't move at first, almost waiting for you to take it back. Slowly, his fingertips moved up your side, under your shirt, and up to your bare breasts. He sucked in a slow, deep breath as his hand finally came to softly squeeze your breast. He fondled your breast a few more times before moving to your nipple. He growled into your neck when you shifted to an angle that allowed him to touch your other breast.

"Y/N," his tone was strained, like it was physically difficult for him to get the words out, "If you're backing out you gotta do it now, darlin'."

You slowly moved his hand from under your shirt and sat up beside him. You watched him close his eyes, taking several controlled breaths. He laid on his back, rubbing his face with his hands. If you were a cruel woman, you'd let him suffer. Instead, you smiled softly to yourself and lifted your shirt over your head, dropping over Teddy's face.

In the time it took him to fumble with the shirt you pulled out the stiff cock peeking from the hole in his boxers and got on all fours, making a show of your ass and arching your back.

Teddy let out a low groan when he saw you, on all fours beside him, eyes sparkling with a naughty smirk as you licked the red tip of his cock. His eyes were frighteningly dark now, that tongue of his peaking out on his lip and his hand fisted in the blanket.

You took a few inches of him into your mouth, using your hand to stroke what you weren't sure you could fit. Teddy let his head fall back on his pillow, low groans and curses falling from his lips as you sucked. He looked up every once in a while, he needed to take in the view he had of your breasts just grazing the mattress and your ass in the air.

It took a lot of willpower, but after a few moments Teddy put two fingers under your chin and gently pushed your head up and off of his cock. He sat up, pulled off his tank top, lifted his hips, and tossed off his shorts. Then he laid back on the bed, shimmying down into the mattress, and grinned at you. His tongue darted out onto his lip - that tongue thing drove you crazy.

"C'mon over, darlin'. Sit down, give Teddy a taste."

You felt a shiver run down your body at the thought. You felt a bit insecure, but there was no way you'd be turning down that offer. You swung a leg over him and faced the wall, a knee on either side of his head. His eyes glinted up at you as he grabbed your hips and tugged you down onto his mouth.

You let your head fall back as he started on you. He kept his prosthetic arm locked onto your waist and he lowered his other hand behind you, playing with himself as he ate. His tongue was everything you'd dreamed it would be. It went deeply into your cunt a few times, then came back and circled around your clit. He nibbled and sucked and licked as you rocked a bit on his face, desperate for more of whatever the hell he was doing to you. One of your hands was pressed against the wall, the other scratching lightly at his scalp. He moaned against you, still rubbing himself behind you.

It was a slow building orgasm, the heat in your lower belly growing and your body beginning to tingle. You were trying your best to keep the volume down, the last thing you needed was everyone making fun of you two come morning, but the closer you got to cumming the harder silence became. You felt your thighs beginning to shake around his head, and you tried to raise up and catch a break, afraid you would cry out. Teddy's arm roughly yanked you back down, locking around your hip. He released his cock, bringing his hand up to smack your ass, scolding you for pulling away. Then, he reached up and pushed two fingers into you, still sucking on your clit. Your whole body began to quake as he gently massaged the inside of your cunt. He chuckled as you froze, body completely rigid as you fell over the edge. You covered your own mouth with your hand, letting out a choked cry and continuing to rock on his face. He withdrew his fingers and became more gentle with his licking, easing you through your orgasm until you were trembling over him. On shaking legs you rose up off of him, shuddering as he pressed one more kiss to your clit. You plopped down beside him, cheeks flushed and hair tousled. He sat up, pushing your hair behind your ear and leaning in, almost kissing you.

"You taste as good as you look, pretty girl." He leaned in a little closer, brushing his lips against yours. You were too impatient to wait, pressing your lips against his mouth, still wet from you. He reached up and cradled the back of your head in his hand, rubbing circles in the spot behind your ear. You held his face in your hands, heart racing. You kissed for a few moments, soft moans leaving your mouth into his. He began speaking between kisses, unable to keep the smile from his face. "You know how hard it was keeping my hands to myself, Miss Y/N?"

He settled between your legs, the tip of his dick brushing up against your inner thigh. "Sleeping next to you every night? That ass up against me? I swear I could hear that pretty pussy calling my name."

He laid against you, propped up on his elbows, still kissing you as he spoke, "This ain't gonna be the last time, darlin'. I'm gonna need to taste you again, and I'm gonna need to feel you again."

You reached down between you, rubbing him against your wet pussy.

"That's my good girl," he growled, pushing himself into you slowly. "I told you your Teddy Bear was gonna take of you."

You let out a whine. You hadnt noticed the slight curve in Teddy's dick, but you did now. It was rubbing against that delicious spot that his fingers had found earlier, sending shudders and heat through your body every time he hit it. Teddy fucked you in slow, deep, controlled thrusts. He nuzzled his head against your neck, sucking on your skin and mumbling dirty things. Your nails dug into his back and your legs locked around his waist as you tried to muffle your cries.

"Aw now baby don't go holding it in. Let everybody out there hear Teddy make you feel good. Make sure they know you're mine now. All mine, Miss Y/N. That pussy is too good to be anyone else's. You belong with me."

His works were a mixture of sexy and sweet. You felt like he might really mean them. You hoped he meant them.

You let out a pathetic whine as he pulled out of you and he chuckled, shaking loose from your hold and sitting back on his knees. He motioned for you to sit up as well, and then for you to turn around. You sat on your knees, once again facing the wall. Teddy settled behind you, kissing your neck and holding you around the waist with his prosthetic arm. His other hand brought his cock to your pussy from behind, and you arched your back, laying your head on his shoulder. Teddy chuckled, "What a good fucking girl sticking that big ass out for her Teddy Bear."

He pushed in much faster this time now that you had grown accustomed to his size. You cried out as he began thrusting into you much harder and faster, his hand coming up to grip around your throat. He applied enough pressure to give you little pinpricks in your vision, but not enough to hurt you. Teddy would never hurt you.

"You take this big dick so good," he grunted in your ear, his voiced sounding strained now. "Is all this for me? Hm? Who's are you?"

"Yours, yours Teddy," You choked out, inhibited by both his hand and his dick.

"That's my pretty girl. All for me, all Teddy's."

He released your neck and waist and you fell forward on all fours, once again arching your back for him. He hit a new spot now, and you knew you wouldn't last long.

"Fuck, darlin'. Ain't no view of you I don't like." Teddy smacked your ass, still thrusting into you almost too deep to handle. "In fact you look so damn good right now I don't think I'm gonna be able to handle it much longer. Where you want me?"

"Inside," You moaned. You'd get a Plan B tomorrow...

"Dirty, dirty girl," he groaned. "Just look at that pretty pussy grippin' Teddy's big dick. You're gonna take it all, pretty girl. I'm gonna fill you up."

Teddy's filthy mouth was sending your mind spinning, you felt like you couldn’t breathe. You arched into him just a little more until he hit the spot you needed, and then it hit you like a train. You couldn't keep this cry in, your body once again trembling. You felt your pussy pulse around his cock and your slick ran down your inner thighs. Teddy gave a strangled groan behind you, not expecting your pussy to grip him the way it did. You felt his dick stiffen and then twitch inside of you, hot cum filling you. He continued thrusting into you, his hand rubbing your ass. His moans and groans sent shivers through you - you loved a man that made a little noise. When he finally slowly pulled out he sat back, spreading your pussy open with his hand.

"Push out for me, darlin'."

You did, blushing when you felt a river of his cum gush out of you and down your thighs. Teddy let out a long moan watching it, and then delivered your ass one more good smack. "Too fuckn' good, pretty girl."

After a moment you fell onto your side, body still tingling and pussy swollen. Teddy got off the bed, leaning down and pressing another slow kiss to your lips before taking your hands and pulling you off the bed. You whined when you stood. You were exhausted now.

"You hush now," he scolded playfully. "C'mon."

You did not follow him to the door, raising an eyebrow when he turned around to look at you.

"Well we gotta shower off now, darlin'. We made a mess of ourselves."

"We're naked, Teddy."

He scoffed, opening the door. "Nobody's awake right now, pretty girl. And if they are, they're fuckin' too."

He walked out, leaving the door open behind him. You hesitated for a moment, but you were all sweaty and sticky... and you didn't want to pass up the opportunity to see Teddy all wet and dripping...

You followed behind him, trying to be quiet and hoping nobody saw you, shiny with sweat, red ass from Teddy's smacks, flushed face and messy hair and wet tracks leading from your pussy down you legs. You sprinted down the hallway and to the bathroom where Teddy had already turned on the shower and stepped in. You locked the door behind you and joined him.

Teddy was really a very sexy man. Strong, but not too muscular. His face was so sharp and dark and his eyes just seemed to radiate power. He had a little bit of chest hair, and now that you were looking, his cock was pretty impressive even soft.

He was already covered in soap, so he handed off the bottle and wash cloth to you. You flushed a bit as you washed yourself, noticing Teddy leaned against the shower wall with his arms crossing and his bottom lip in his teeth as he watched the soap cascade down your body. After you had cleaned off, he held his arms out to you, wrapping you in his tight embrace. His prosthetic arm wrapped around your waist, pressing you tightly against him. You let your head rest against his chest and he leaned his on yours. With his hand he gently massaged the back of your neck.

"I'm going to take care of you, pretty girl. You're all mine. Nobody's ever going to hurt you again."

You pulled back a bit, gently touching his face and pulling him into another deep kiss. You smiled against his lips when you felt his cock twitch against you.

...

When you made it back to Teddy's bed, laying on his chest while he played with your hair, you replayed the whole night in your mind over and over. You would probably replay it forever.

"You know what, Miss Y/N?"

"What, Teddy?"

"I think you spend an awful lot of time walking back and forth between our rooms - and I spend an awful lot of time waiting for you. It'd save us both a lot of energy if you just stayed with me."

"You asking me to move in, Teddy?"

He smiled, gently taking your chin in his hand and pulling you in for a soft kiss. "I am. I can keep you safe and satisfied much easier if you're always by my side. You know I'll take good care of you. You're my pretty girl."

You bit your lip, feeling your cheeks flush once again. "And after this is all over?"

Teddy softly touched the side of your face, "I'm thinking a nice, warm beach. You and me. We can make a good life somewhere close to the ocean. Far away from all of this foolishness."

You pressed one more kiss against his lips, then laid your head back on his chest.

"I like that idea."

Just you and your Teddy Bear.

[apprenticestanheight]

Oh my god finally someone who writes Prison Break requests ‼️‼️‼️

Im desperate for some Michael Scofield x sub!m!reader smut🫠

Doesn't have to be much plot, maybe just something like reunion sex? So like they haven't seen each other in a while and it's just really compassionate worshipping devouring intimate moments? Somewhere in a hotel room where he told reader to meet him ykyk

I've never done a request before, forgive me if it's not detailed enough, i just really love your writing and im having brainrot atm🫠

Have a lovely day/night ‼️

- 🌻 Anon (if its not taken)

hi! I'm sorry to say, but I don't currently write for prison break. My blog is primarily horror focused atm (with exceptions being made to like. three specific niches outside of horror as a genre) so I am going to have to deny this request.

I hope you find someone willing to write it though--I know that the sphere for prison break writers is on the smaller side here, but I'm sure there's someone!