#Michael Scofield x reader

[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.

[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

-

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

[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.

[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

[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.

[3lle-l-black]

Michael Scofield has so much content, he has so many things to talk about that is an outrage that there aren't thousands of fanfics of him on this site and it's an outrage that I don't know what to write with him

Like????? He's so hot and his looks are the least hot part of him

[enha-stars]

now where are the michael scofield fics

[nonclassyparty]

man with the plan (j.wy) - prologue

Summary: "Don't forget Pretty, I'm serving life plus one. So if I get busted for attempted escape, I'll throw in a homicide in there as well with no problem, that’s like a parking ticket to me." When your brother ends up in jail for a murder he didn't commit, the only thing left for you to do is to find a way to break him out. But after a perfect plan is set in motion, you don't expect a romantic variable to get added into the equation.

Pairing: jung wooyoung x fem. reader, jeong yunho x reader (but if u squint)

Status: coming soon (i hope)

Taglist: if you'd like to be added just reply below! c:

A/N: this is very obviously inspired by prison break ( my favorite show on planet earth), y/n will be very much inspired by michael scofield and i (unfortunately) don't own nor the show nor michael scofield. anyways! wooyoung is the love interest (surprise surprise) but the rest of atz will be present. please let me know if this is something you'd be interested in reading. if i do continue writing it, i plan for it to be written in 3 parts each consisting of 7-9 chapters!

MY MAIN MASTERLIST! // AO3

(prologue)

The buzzing of the tattoo machine is the only thing interrupting the silence in the dark parlor as the needle continues prodding at the skin of your shoulder and makes you grip the chair you sit on.

It used to hurt. A lot. Now, the pain is reduced to a light sting as you suppose you've gotten used to it.

"Almost done. Just finishing touches now." Chao comforts from behind you, soft breath hitting your exposed skin as he wipes away the excess ink.

You only nod in response, never having much to say to him despite his best efforts.

"You know, you've been coming here for almost a year and barely said a word." He comments while he works. "Asking me to work after closing hours and everything, I would've expected to at least get to know you better."

You try to hold back an eye roll as you give him a bland look over your shoulder, eyes coasting over the tattoo of a dragon curling around his neck and disappearing behind his long hair.

"That's why I'm paying you almost double." Is your only response as you play with the sleeves of the button up pooling around your waist.

"So, you're telling me that after tonight, you'll just walk out of here and I'll never see you again?"

"Something like that." You murmur and he huffs behind you.

"I've never done a tattoo this big on a girl before." He continues, always keen on talking even if all he gets is quiet 'mhm's and 'ah's in response. "For a first-timer especially. Usually, it's a name of a boyfriend which they later regret or something artsy but shallow, like a butterfly or some shit."

A smirk tugs on your lips as you peek at him over your shoulder again, "Are you really trying to tell me I'm not like the other girls, right now?"

He grins and it makes his eyes crinkle at the corners. Chao was fairly attractive, handsome in that bad boy-ish type of way where you know he'll definitely put you through hell but you'd have fun with it.

It's unfortunate that you're not in the mood to think about anything like that anymore. You haven't been for the last eighteen months.

"You never even told me what the tatt was all about..." He trails off, bandaging your shoulder up and your eyes fall to the tiles below your feet. "I mean, look at all of this..."

You presume he means the tattoo starting from your lower back, curling around the shoulders and cascading down your arms, stopping at the wrists. The numbers laid over thin lines, intertwined with thicker ones, curling around letters like a snake and creating a piece that no-one can see.

No-one except for you.

It's about my brother's future, you think to yourself.

"It doesn't mean anything. Just thought it would look cool." You chuckle, sliding your hands through the sleeves of your shirt and working on buttoning yourself up, covering the tattoo from the artist who worked relentlessly to stitch it onto you. You turn to him, pulling your hair out from the collar of the shirt as you smile at him. "I guess I'm like all the other girls as well."

Chao stares at you in wonder before his eyes fall to the wad of cash you pull out from your bag and hold out to him.

"Thank you, Chao. You've done a great job."

He sighs again, "It would've been done a lot sooner if it wasn't for your constant nitpicking."

You grin at him while pulling on your jacket and slinging your bag over your shoulder. "What can I say, I'm a perfectionist."

Giving him one last wave, you disappear from the shop.

-

18 months ago;

The collar of your white button up feels like it's strangling you as the buzzer echoes through the stuffy room and two guards appear through the door, dragging him in and sitting him down in the chair opposite of you, making sure to cuff him to the table.

There is only glass separating you but it feels like he's miles away.

Jongho's eyes are dull when they meet your own, dark circles hanging below them and hair messy.

"Y/N..." You have to look the other way, to stop the ugly tears from falling as your heart constricts at his familiar voice.

You haven't seen him since the trial. Didn't have the courage to step anywhere near these walls.

A facility with maximum level security for the biggest scum that roamed your country and wretched chaos on innocent people, inflicted pain and sorrow, terrorized society in the worst of ways.

And now, your brother was one of them.

The person who raised you, took care of you when no-one else did, was serving a life sentence.

Finally gathering the guts to look at him, you clench your jaw and try to ignore the desperation in his eyes. The dark blue uniform engulfs him and is a deep contrast to his usually tanner skin that turned almost ghastly pale just after a week of being in there.

"Did you do it?" You whisper and Jongho looks at you like you just slapped him. His eyes water and he looks absolutely devastated but you have to know. You have to know.

"No." He answers firmly, voice cracking as he blinks away the tears, he never was much of a crier. "No. Of course not."

Of course not.

He says that like it's unimaginable for him.

It was unimaginable to you as well up until three weeks ago.

With a record of petty crimes and a bad temperament, he had a knack for getting himself into trouble that he always managed to get himself out of one way or another. Except this time.

You always knew Jongho was in some deep shit, hanging around people that were bad for him and barely being able to hold onto an honest job for more than a month. 

But that's all he was. A petty criminal with offences that never went past bar fights and getting into discourses with police officers who stop his car for going over the speed limit, not a murderer.

You can't even stop the tear that slides down your cheek as you huff at an attempt to laugh, it comes out choked.

"What about all the evidence then?" Your voice is hoarse as you speak in a hushed tone, recalling the first time you've seen the tape in court.

"I...Y/N, I don't know...All I can think is that someone set me up because I didn't do it, I swear." Jongho stresses, palms laid against the table, desperate for you to believe him. "He was my boss, for fuck's sake."

"He fired you a month before that." You harshly interrupt and he sighs, eyes falling shut as you continue to sniffle with a crumbled face, "What were you doing at his house?"

"Someone told me to go there- I-I thought he was going to give me my job back..." Jongho stutters, his own tears threatening to fall as he presses his lips together. For his lack of excuse or proper explanation, he really does look sincere.

You both sit in silence for a moment, you can almost feel the time you have with him trickling away.

That's all you'll have with him from now on. One hour per week, for the rest of his life and that's only if your time here isn't shared with Yeosang, if he ever decides to muster up the balls to see him.

You're not sure if you're willing to settle for that.

"Swear to me." You finally say, staring at him dead in the eye as his brows furrow, "Swear to me that you didn't do it."

Without a beat, "I didn't do it." Jongho responds, not breaking eye contact. You keep your gaze planted on his face, observing it for any signs of dishonesty. But you fail to find any. "Y/N, I didn't do it. I swear to you."

You stare at him for a second longer before your gaze flies behind him, there are three guards in total in the room. One behind the counter, two by the door.

Your gaze returns to Jongho, who doesn't move a muscle, still looking at you in desperation and what you can only recognize as fear.

He looks a lot younger now, like the Jongho who used to shake every time you two would be on your way to a new foster family. The Jongho that you know was scared to the bones but never wanted to show it for your sake.

You can't lose your older brother.

"Okay."

-

You throw the keys into the bowl near the front door and with a tired sigh kick off your shoes before walking further into your apartment.

The shoulder Chao just worked on ached like hell but the pain almost felt good, served as a reminder that you can't afford to be tired right now.

So without further ado, you walk into your office that when you first moved into the luxurious skyscraper overlooking Han River, was used for working from home or more like, working after you came home from work. 

Now, the office served a different purpose completely.

Your eyes sweep over the filled out wall and window, both covered in an array of information and yellow post-it notes; a product of your relentless work and research over the last eighteen months.

Your hands twitch, you don't want to get rid of it. What if you missed something? What if you made a mistake somewhere? What if something managed to sneak away unnoticed by you?

But having it here, in plain sight where anyone who walks in and is nosy enough to look can see it, can end up being more dangerous than something unforeseen happening. Heck, you already had Mrs. Kim try to enter despite it being locked a couple of times. 

You needed to lose every trace or connection to that prison and the people inside of it, with the exception of Jongho, before Monday.

Besides, what would be the point of Chao and the reason you almost paid him thirty grand? If you don't get rid of this stuff, it would almost be as if you flushed the money down the toilet.

So you grab an empty garbage bag and with a shaky sigh, start ripping down paper after paper, photo after photo and filling out the plastic bag. Article after article flashes before your eyes as the sound of papers ripping fills the room.

'Chungju Detention Center: Level 1', 'Choi Jongho Final Appeal Denied', 'Choi Jongho Convicted To Serve Life For Murder of-', 'Body of Son Changkyu found in his home-', 'Governor's Son Wins Humanitarian Award', 'Life sentence for Kim Hongjoong', 'Park Ha-ru Myth Still Alive Despite Conviction', 'Killer of VP Brother to Serve a Life Sentence at Chungju-'

Once the window is clean and the wall is bare again, only tiny holes from the tacks left as evidence that anything was ever there in the first place and with three bags worth of garbage, you stuff it into the fireplace and throw a match in right after.

You watch the key to your brother's future turn to ashes.

-

The buzzer makes you look up from your hands and you smile a little bit once your eyes meet Jongho's through the glass but it quickly turns to a frown once you notice the enormous bruise running down his jaw.

"Hey." He greets with a stiff smile as the guard cuffs him to the table and turns to walk away.

"What happened?" You jump to question him immediately and Jongho rolls his eyes with a low groan.

"It's not a big deal."

"They beat you up."

"Hey, maybe I was the one who was beating someone else up." He defends trying to lighten up the situation but the frown on your face doesn't budge and he sighs. "I got in a fight with one of the guys in the yard, it's not a big deal, Y/N, shit like that happens here-"

"It can't happen, Jongho. From now on, it can't happen." Now it's Jongho's turn to frown and you sigh, "You'll get thrown into solitary if it gets any worse and then I won't be able to-"

You stop yourself, eyes fleeting to the guard behind the counter. There are no wires surrounding the visitors area due to the building being so old, you would know, you made sure it was the first thing to check once you got your hands on the blueprints. But you can never be too careful.

"I won't be able to see you if you're in solitary." You say, voice gentle and Jongho's eyes soften before he gives you a nod in response.

"Alright, no fighting back, I'll just let them beat me to a pulp then I guess." He shrugs and you roll your eyes. Typical.

"You know that's not what I meant but that smartass attitude is the thing that might be getting you in trouble in the yard in the first place." You quickly retort with a glare as he huffs.

"How's your cellmate?" You ask and Jongho, as he always does when you ask about his roommate, looks confused but today, it's something else as well.

"Oh, I'm actually getting a new one." You freeze at that, blinking rapidly a couple of times.

"What do you mean?"

"They're moving Jisung to the psych ward after he tried to off himself with his bedsheet." Jongho explains like he's talking about the weather and you gape at him, wondering just what goes on in there on the daily if a man trying to kill himself isn't anything out of the ordinary.

But then again, you're not all that worried about Jisung's mental health either but more for the fact that he's gone and now somebody else will take his place.

You can already see a small tiny piece of your tattoo being considered useless now.

But you can't let that bring you down. It's just a small hitch, nothing else.

"Well, do you know who's coming to take his place?" You ask, ignoring the way Jongho eyes you.

He shakes his head in response and your leg starts bouncing in anxiety.

"No, they're moving him in after lunch."

After lunch.

So, you won't know until...

One of the biggest pieces of the plan and it will be unsure until the said plan is set in motion.

Great.

You clear your throat, leaning closer and on instinct, Jongho copies you, "Listen, I won't be able to visit for awhile."

"Why?" Jongho questions, eyes boring into yours and you let out a small breath. "Are you going somewhere?"

"No." Your eyes stray to the two guards by the door, just a couple of feet away. "I just won't be able to visit you for awhile. Maybe. I'm working on preventing that but just in case I don't come next Friday, I wanted you to know."

Jongho eyes you suspiciously before he leans closer again, nose almost touching the glass. "Y/N, what the hell are you doing?"

You bite back a smile, amused that he just knows you, and that only makes Jongho more frustrated. 

"Y/N, did you get yourself in some shit?" He hisses, looking over his shoulder to check if the guard is still by the door, "If you did, call Yeosang. He'll know what to do."

You scoff, "I'm not you to get myself in some shit. Relax, I got a new job."

"New job?" Jongho goes back to being confused, "Why can't you visit then? It's somewhere far away?"

You stare at him before nodding, "Something like that," You whisper.

"Oh, okay. I mean of course, your job is important." He nods and you feel your heart ache inside your chest at his slightly crestfallen face that he tries to cover up. "You're a structural engineer after all, they probably need you to design another fancy building, huh?"

You wish to tell him that you'll be there. You'll be closer to him than he thinks but you can't do any of that until you're properly inside those walls.

"Yeah." You nod, blinking away the tears. You clear your throat, glancing at the clock behind his head. "Hey, Jongho, remember how we used to talk to each other?"

He cocks his head in confusion.

"When we were kids, how we used to talk to each other. For example, when Soyoung was around and we didn't want her to understand." 

Jongho's eyes gain some recognition but the confusion still remains on his face. Hesitantly, he bobs his head, "Yeah."

"Good," You nod, mouth perking up, "You might want to brush up on that."

Jongho opens his mouth to say something more but you're already waving over the guard.

You lean closer to him one more time, staring at his confused face through the glass to whisper;

"See you on Monday."

[sstarmarket]

snippet of waves, a PrisonBreak Michael Scofield x reader x Sara Tancredi fic in which sara and reader navigate the loss of him, with a better ending to what we recieved from the show. reader has the same low lateral inhibitor condition as michael, brain on the same level. i wont say toooooo much so you guys have something to look forward to.

[twohearts-hs]

Defying The Odds: 7 - Michael Scofield x Reader Series

Words in Total: 6.6k

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, Intimacy, 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 sat on her cot, staring at the small velvet box that had arrived for her just moments ago. Her hands trembled as she opened it, revealing a sleek, elegant watch nestled inside. It looked expensive.

            A note was nestled inside of it, and she took it out.

Doll,

Happy birthday

S.

It was just the kind of gift Sebastian would send. But her heart raced with unease as her eyes drifted to the face of the watch. Her heart dropped, watching it.

            This beautiful, sterling silver and 14k gold watch was not telling time.

            Instead, the digital display showed a countdown. Hours, minutes, and seconds tick away ominously.

            Y/N’s blood ran cold. It was her birthday, and of course, Sebastian would know that. He always did. But this was not just a gift. It was a message. A threat. The countdown mocked her, and she knew exactly what it meant – time was running out, and Sebastian was reminding her that no matter where she was, he was always one step ahead.

            Her heart thudded painfully in her chest as the seconds slipped away.

            Just then, she heard footsteps approaching her cell. She quickly closed the box, hiding it under the pillow. Michael stepped into her cell, his presence instantly calming, but Y/N could not shake the anxiety twisting in her gut.

            “Hey,” Michael greeted, his eyes softening as they landed on her. “You ok? You look…distracted.”

            Y/N forced a small smile, trying to steady her breathing. “I’m fine. Just…thinking.”

            Michael raised an eyebrow, sensing something was off. His eyes flickered over her, noticing the tension in her shoulders, the way her hands fidgeted in her lap. “What’s going on?” he asked gently, moving closer. “You’re not yourself.”

            Y/N shook her head, trying to wave it off. “It’s nothing,” she said, her voice a little too tight. “Just got…just got a birthday present.”

            Michael’s eyes widened slightly. “It’s your birthday?” he asked, small smile tugging at the corner of his lips. “Happy birthday.”

            Y/N nodded, trying to keep her voice steady. “Thanks.”

            Michael studied her for a moment, his brow furrowing as he sensed there was more she was not telling him. “So…what’d you get?”

            She hesitated, her fingers brushing over the pillow where the watch was hidden. She couldn’t tell him. Not about the countdown, not about Sebastian’s message. Michael had enough to worry about, the last thing she wanted was to drag him deeper into her mess.

            “It’s just a watch,” she said with a shrug, trying to keep her tone casual. “From my father…I haven’t seen him in a while. He was never really there…ever. So, kind of shocked me,” she whispered, lying through her teeth.

            Michael didn’t seem convinced, but he didn’t push. “A watch, huh?” he said, his voice light. “Well, I didn’t get you anything so…how about I make it up to you later?”

            Y/N raised a brow, the hint of a smile ghosting her lips. “Make it up to me?”

            Michael grinned, stepping closer, his voice dropping as he whispered, “Shower, this afternoon. Just us. I’ll make sure it’s a birthday you won’t forget.”

            Usually, an offer like that would make Y/N’s heart race in a very different way, and she’d never say no to Michael’s intimate invitations. But today…today was different. The weight of Sebastian’s threat hung over her, and she couldn’t shake the feeling of dread that came with the countdown ticking away under the pillow.

            She shook her head, her smile faltering. “I…I can’t, Michael. Not today. Thank you, though.”

            Michael’s expression shifted from playful to concerned in an instant. He tilted his head, his eyes narrowing slightly as he studied her. “You’re turning me down?” he asked, his voice soft, but edged with confusion. “That’s…not like you.”

            Y/N bit her lip, avoiding his gaze. “I’m…Michael, don’t make me say it,” she whispered, looking down.

            “Say what?” he mumbled.

            “I’m on my period,” she whispered the lie.

            Michael looked at her, seeing her body language. “That doesn’t make sense,” he admitted. “Then you’re early. Like really early.” Michael didn’t believe her. He could tell something was wrong – he always could. And the fact that she was pulling away from him, on her birthday no less, set off alarm bells in his mind. He crouched down, taking her hand in his. “Y/N,” he said gently, taking her hand in his. “Talk to me. What’s really going on?”

            Her heart pounded in her chest, and for a moment, she considered telling him the truth. But the fear of Sebastian’s reach, the power he still held over her, made her stay silent. She couldn’t drag Michael into this. She couldn’t let Sebastian win by putting Michael in danger.

            So instead, she forced a smile and shook her head. “I just keep thinking of my dad,” was her response. “How he hasn’t seen me since the trial and now he sends me a birthday present.”

            Michael didn’t look convinced, but he didn’t push her either. He nodded slowly, his eyes never leaving hers. “Ok,” he said softly. “But if something’s bothering you, I want you to tell me. I’m here.”

            Y/N swallowed hard, her throat tight with emotion. “I know,” she whispered. Then she took his hand. “Tomorrow. Showers?” She knew she did not have tomorrow.

            He nodded. Michael lingered for a moment then his hand came to brush a strand of hair from her face. His touch was warm, comforting, and for a brief second, Y/N allowed herself to lean into it, wishing more than anything she could forget the countdown, about Sebastian, about everything.

            But the reality of her situation loomed over, and as Michael pulled away, she felt the weight of it settle back on her shoulders.

            “I’ll see you later,” he said, his voice soft but filled with concern.

            Y/N nodded, watching him leave the cell. The moment he was gone, her hands instinctively reached under the pillow, pulling out the box once again. She opened it, her eyes narrowing as she watched the seconds ticked down.

            Five hours…

            Whatever Sebastian had planned, it was coming.

            And she had to be ready.

-

Michael just told the team they had eighteen inches to go until they hit the pipe, which meant they were breaking out Friday. C-Note came in threatening them and asking about another hand. He got signed up by Abruzzi.

            “Now it looks like Darwin wins after all, eh, Fish?”

            Michael heard him but he glanced at the door then around him. Where was Y/N? His brows furrowed in concentration – except it wasn’t just the escape plan on his mind or the fact C-Note was here.

            He focused on his team and said, “Has anyone seen Y/N?” His tone was sharp, breaking the steady rhythm of work.

            Sucre looked from the ground to see Michael’s serious face. “I didn’t see her at lunch. Thought she skipped to read those books she’s been readin’. Maybe she took the day off?”

            “It’s her birthday,” Michael whispered more to himself. “She was frazzled about a gift she was sent from her father.”

            “Then she took the day off for her birthday,” Abruzzi said. “I don’t get that.”

            “She would’ve told me,” Michael said.

            “Y/N? The girl?” C-Note asked.

            “Yeah, Fish and her are an item,” Abruzzi stated. “Welcome to the club.”

            “I don’t think she’s taking the day off. She knows how important the job is,” Michael snapped, his nerves starting to fray.

            Abruzzi glanced over, his cool demeanour shifting slightly as he recognised the growing concern in Michael’s eyes. “She’s smart. If she’s not here, there’s a reason.”

            Lincoln stepped forward, placing a hand on Michael’s shoulder, trying to calm him down. “We’ll find her. She’s probably fine. You know how she is – tougher than all of us.”

            But Michael’s mind was racing. Y/N never missed a PI assignment. Something was wrong…seriously wrong.

            “I’ll go check the yard,” Michael said abruptly, not waiting for a response before making his way toward the door. The rest of the team exchanged glanced but kept working, though the tension was now thick enough to cut through. Michael’s mood had set everyone on edge.

            As he walked through the yard, through the prison hallways…his heart began to pound harder with every passing second. His usual calm, methodical nature was slipping, replacing by a deep, gnawing fear. When he spotted a CO walking by, he moved toward him quickly.

            “Y/N. Y/N Y/L/N. Where is she?” Michael demanded, his voice firmer than usual.

            The guard barely spared him a glance, disinterested. “Why aren’t you at PI?”

            “Y/N? She’s missing,” he pressed further.

            “I don’t know. Ain’t my job to keep tabs on her.”

            Michael clenched his fists, taking a deep breath to control his anger. “She didn’t show up to PI. I need to know where she is.”

            The guard raised an eyebrow. “She’s probably fine, Scofield. Don’t start getting all attached.”

            “Find out where she is,” Michael insisted, stepping closer, his voice low and dangerous. “Now.”

            The guard paused, clearly not used to being challenged. He narrowed his eyes, but eventually relented, pulling out his radio. “Hold on,” he muttered into the device, signalling one of the COs on duty. “Inmate Y/N Y/L/N. Where she at?”

            The radio crackled with static for a moment before a voice responded. “On her way to infirmary. Attacked by another inmate.”

            Michael’s heart dropped, the words hitting him like a punch to the gut. His stomach twisted as his breath caught in his throat.

            “Attacked?” he asked, his voice barely above a whisper. But the guard was already walking away, indifferent. Michael stood frozen for a moment, his mind reeling.

            Without wasting another second, he bolted toward the infirmary, adrenaline coursing through his veins pushing him faster.

-

The yard was buzzing with the usual noise of inmates milling about, and Y/N had just been on her way to PI when it happened. The crowd was dense, and she had her focus ahead, walking with purpose toward the fence where she knew Michael and the others would be waiting. However, the time was up. Had been for a few seconds…

            She barely noticed the person who sidled up behind her until it was too late.

            A sharp, searing pain shot through her abdomen, her breathing catching in her throat. The world seemed to slow as she looked down, seeing the hilt of the knife sticking out of her stomach. Panic flood her senses, but she instinctively gritted her teeth, refusing to show weakness. Her vision blurred as she stumbled, blood soaking through her shirt, hot and sticky against her skin.

            The shank was gone just as quickly as it had appeared, and the person – whoever it was – melted back into the crowd before Y/N could react. She fell to her knees, clutching her stomach, trying to hold herself together.

            Inmates scattered around her, some looking, some ignoring the scene as it were just another day in Fox River. The guards shouted, their radios crackling as they called for medical assistance. Her legs felt weak, like they couldn’t support her anymore, and the pain was becoming unbearable.

            A gurney appeared in her line of sight as she was hoisted up by the guards, her world spinning. She was vaguely aware of the rush toward the infirmary, the walls of the prison blurring as her consciousness began to fade in and out.

            The next thing she knew, she was on her back, staring up at the harsh, sterile lights of the infirmary. Dr. Remington was there, his expression serious as he assessed her injury, his hands already working to stop the bleeding.

            “She’d been stabbed in the stomach,” one of the nurses said quickly, helping Dr. Remington get a better view.

            Y/N looked up, grasping Dr. Remington’s hand. “No painkillers,” she whispered through gritted teeth. “None.”

            Dr. Remington applied pressure to the wound. “We need to get her into surgery,” he muttered, his voice sharp with urgency. “Prep for–“

            Before he could finish, the doors to the infirmary burst open, and Michael bolted in, his eyes wild, searching the room. The moment he saw Y/N lying on the gurney, his breath hitched, and he ran to her side, ignoring everyone else.

            “Y/N,” he breathed, his voice thick with fear. He reached for her hand, squeezing it tight as he looked down at her, his blue eyes filled with worry. “I’m here. I’m right here.”

            Y/N tried to focus on him through the haze of pain, her vision swimming. She managed a weak smile, but every moment sent a fresh wave of agony through her body.

“Michael, I’m fine,” she whispered, though it was clear she was anything but.

“You need to leave, Michael. As much as I love you two, you need to leave,” Dr. Remington said firmly, trying to get Michael to step away so they could work on Y/N. “We need to stabilise her, and you’re in the way. Say your love yous and go, please.”

But Michael didn’t budge. His grip tightened on her head, and he shook his head, his voice low and strained. “I’m not leaving. I’m with her…I’m with her,” he repeated. “I’m with her. She’s mine. I’m her family.”

“Michael, please,” Y/N mumbled, her voice barely audible. “Let them work. I love you.” Her hand came up, to clasp his cheek. “Please.”

Dr. Remington exchanged a glance with one of the nurses, his patience wearing thin. “If you care about her, you’ll step back and let us do our jobs. I need to close that wound before she loses more blood.”

Still, Michael hesitated, his eyes locked on Y/N’s. It was as if he couldn’t bear the thought of leaving her, of not being by her side when she needed him most. But the urgency in Dr. Remington’s voice finally broke through.

“Michael, go,” Y/N whispered again, her hand trembling. “I’ll be ok.”

Reluctantly, Michael nodded and stepped back, though his eyes never left her. His heart raced, his mind spinning with all the worst-case scenarios as Dr. Remington worked quickly to patch up Y/N. The room buzzed with activity, but all Michael could do was watch, his chest tight with fear.

He was escorted back to his cell. However, as the surgery happened, he paced back and forth in his cell. Sucre was watching him as he ran the water, wet his face then went back to pacing.

“Hey, man,” Sucre said quietly, sensing something was wrong the moment Michael walked in. “Where’s Y/N?”

Michael shook his head, running a hand through his hair. “Y/N…got stabbed,” he muttered, his voice thick with emotion.

Sucre’s eyes widened in shock. “What? When? Is she ok?”

“They just got her into surgery. Dr. Remington say she’s stable, but…” Michael trailed off, leaning against the wall, his hands clenched into fists. “I should’ve known. I should’ve done something. She was acting funny this morning. She declined,” he chuckled, “she declined a shower with me. She never does that.”

Sucre stepped closer, his voice calming. “Hey, papi, this isn’t on you. You couldn’t have stopped it.”

Michael sighed, his frustration and fear simmering just beneath the surface. “She’s more than just someone I care about, Sucre. I don’t know when it happened, but she…she means everything to me. I can’t let anything happen to her.”

Sucre nodded, understanding the weight of Michael’s words. “I know, man. I’ve seen how you are around her. She’s different for you.”

Michael leaned his head back against the wall, his eyes closing for a moment. “She told me she loves me and if anything happens to her because of me…or if Sebastian is behind this – I don’t know what I’ll do.”

Sucre smiled. “She loves you?” he repeated, and Michael simply nodded.

“I didn’t get to tell her it back,” he whispered.

“You’ve always got a plan, right? You’ll figure this out. And Y/N’s tough. She’ll pull through.”

Michael’s jaw tightened, but he nodded, appreciating Sucre’s support. “Yeah,” he whispered, though the uncertainty still lingered.

He was about to sit down when the guard approached Michael, escorting him to the infirmary for his insulin shot. The guard’s face was expressionless as he led Michael through the halls, but Michael’s heart was racing, his thoughts still with Y/N.

When they arrived at the infirmary, Michael’s eyes immediately sought her out. She was there, on the other side of the room, resting after the surgery. The bandages were wrapped around her abdomen, and her face was pale, her body motionless. His heart clenched seeing her like this, so vulnerable.

Dr. Remington entered, moving with purpose as he prepared the insulin shot for Michael. However, he could not hold it back much longer.

“Dr. Remington?” Michael asked as he rolled up his sleeve and the doctor sterilised his arm.

“Yes, Scofield?”

“Please,” Michael’s voice wavered, filling with desperation. “Let me see her. Just for ten minutes.”

The doctor delivered the insulin shot before sighing, rubbing the bridge of his nose. “She needs rest. She just got out of surgery, and I don’t want her agitated. She’s been through enough.”

Michael’s expression softened; his voice almost pleading. “I love her, doctor. I can’t just stand here and do nothing. She needs to know I’m here. Please.”

The sincerity in his voice must have hit Remington hard. The doctor studied Michael for a long moment, his stoic expression faltering slightly before he let out a small sigh. “Alright. But don’t do anything to stress her out. She’s still recovering.”

            Michael nodded quickly, his heart leaping. “Thank you.”

            Ten minutes turned into hours as Michael sat beside Y/N, watching her breathe, willing her to wake up. He held her hand, his thumb brushing lightly against her knuckles. Every second felt like an eternity. He was lost in thought, running over everything that could have led to this moment, when finally, her eyes fluttered open.

            “Y/N?” he whispered, leaning closer, his voice filled with concern.

            Her gaze was heavy, still groggy from the medication. She blinked slowly, her lips parting as she mumbled. “They gave me painkillers…I said…I said no.”

            Michael smiled softly, though his heart ached. “You need them. You were stabbed, Y/N. You have to let them help you.”

            She stayed quiet, looking into his blue eyes as his hand came to brush her cheek. “Who did this to you?” he whispered.

            Y/N’s face tightened slguthly as if the weight of what had happened was starting to hit her. Michael could see it – the pain, the fear – but also something deeper. She was holding something back, and he knew it.

            “Y/N?” he whispered.

            Her eyes darted away, avoiding his gaze. She pressed her lips together, refusing to answer.

            “Y/N, please. You need to tell me the truth. If someone’s targeting you, I need to know so I can protect you.”

            She swallowed hard, still not looking at him. “It’s a warning,” she finally muttered, her voice low so he could almost not hear. “The watch counted down. It was gift from Sebastian. He’s warning me. I thought he would never hurt me but he’s more ruthless than I thought he was.”

            Then she closed her eyes again, dosing into sleep.

-

Michael walked beside Y/N, his hand hovering protectively near her back as they made their way down the dimly lit corridor. His eyes flickered to her every few seconds, watching her every move, every slight wince of pain that crossed her face. She walked slowly, still weak from the time spent in the infirmary after the stabbing, but she was determined to get back to her cell on her own terms. Michael, however, was not about to let her do it without his help.

            “You sure you’re ok? Maybe we should stop, just for a minute. I don’t want you to push yourself,” he said, his voice gentle but tinged with worry,

            Y/N rolled her eyes slightly, her patience wearing thin. “Michael, I’m fine. It’s just a few more steps. I don’t need to be carried,” she snapped, though there was no real heat behind her words. She was just frustrated by her own vulnerability, and by how suffocating Michael’s care felt at the moment.

            “I’m not trying to carry you,” Michael replied, giving her a small smile as he kept his pace slow to match hers. “I just…you’ve been through a lot. I want to make sure you’re alright.”

            Y/N sighed heavily, the tension in her chest building as she felt his eyes on her again. “I get that. But I’m not used to someone hovering over like this. It’s–“ she paused, searching for the right words. “It’s just a lot, ok?”

            They reached her cell, and Y/N gratefully sat down on the edge of her bed, exhaling in relief. Her body was still sore from the wound, and the effort of walking from the infirmary had taken more out of her than she’d expected. Michael lingered by the door, watching her with concern.

            “Do you need anything? Water? Food? I can–“

            “Michael,” Y/N cut him off, her voice sharper than she intended. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath before looking at him. “I just need some space. You’re being very kind and caring, thank you, but you’re also being too much right now. I can’t handle all this attention. I’m not fragile.”

            His face softened as he stepped closer, lowering himself to sit on the bed next to her. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to overwhelm you. I’m just…I was scared, Y/N. Seeing you like that, not knowing if you were going to make it…it messed with my head.”

            Y/N glanced at him, the raw emotion in his voice pulling at her own guarded heart. She smiled, cupping his cheek and leaning down to kiss the edge of his lips borderline his cheek. Then her hands wrapped around his neck, pulling him in for a hug. Michael dipped his head into her neck, breathing her scent in.

            “You said something to me before you passed out,” he muttered as he pulled away to look at her. “You told me you love me. Is that true?”

            Y/N’s heart skipped a beat. She felt a surge of panic rise in her chest as she remembered the words slipping from her lips in a haze of pain and fear. She had been vulnerable, more so than she ever allowed herself to be. And now, Michael was asking her to confront it.

            She scoffed, trying to brush it off. “I was out it, Michael. I don’t even know what I said.”

            Michael shook his head, not letting her dodge the question easily. “No, Y/N. I know you. You don’t say things like that unless you mean them. So, was it true?”

            Y/N shifted uncomfortably, the walls she’d built around herself trembling under the weight of his gaze. She looked down to her hands, her fingers twisting together as she tried to find the right words. Michael took her hand.

            “Yeah,” she whispered eventually. “Yeah, it’s true.”

            “Good,” he whispered as his fingers tucked hair behind her hair. “Me too.”

            Then she smiled. “How’s the escape plan going?” she changed the topic.

            “Back to business then. After I tell my feelings-“

            “–Michael. I love you. Now tell me what we are doing as I’ve been in the infirmary for three days.”

-

Y/N watched as Michael in the distance buried the watch. She wiped the sweat from her brow as she worked in the yard, pushing through the heat and the soreness still lingering from her recent recovery. PI work was gruelling, but it kept her mind focused, giving her some sense of normalcy amidst the chaos of prison life. She bent down, grabbing another shovel full of dirt, when she saw Bellick approaching from the corner of her eye. She stiffened, already bracing herself for whatever nasty remark he was about to throw her way.

            Bellick sauntered over, a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth as he looked her up and down. “Well, well, look who’s back from the dead. Guess they patched you up real good, huh?” he muttered, voice dripping with mockery.

            Y/N didn’t respond, keeping her focus on the task at hand. She knew better than to engage with him, but Bellick was not one to let things go easily.

            “I heard a rumour, you and Scofield are a thing,” he muttered. “A romantic thing.”

            Y/N ignored him, focusing on her work.

            “Funny thing, though,” he continued, leaning closer. “While you were in the infirmary, Scofield’s wife paid him a little visit. You know…in the conjugal room. Do you know he has a wife…does the wife know about you? Or is this some prison rendezvous? A little fun?”

            Y/N froze, her heart skipping a beat. She clenched her jaw, trying to keep her composure, but Bellick’s words hit harder than she expected.

            The bitch was back…

            She had known about the green card marriage…but the conjugal room? That was where people went to fuck. She shook her head, trying to shake off the images that flooded her mind.

            “Yeah,” Bellick sneered. “I bet you didn’t know about that, did ya? While you’re out injured and alone, Scofield’s getting his rocks off in the conjugal room with his wife. Hell of a guy, huh?”

            Y/N felt a wave of hurt and confusion wash over her, but she forced herself to keep working. She would not let Bellick see her crack. But soon as he walked away, the thoughts gnawed at her, eating away at her focus. Michael and her had not had sex yet, despite their connection. Once in the shower, they were close for T-Bag to ruin it. And now, the thought of him being with someone else, even if it was just a green card wife, made her stomach turn.

            When she finally saw Michael later that day, she couldn’t hold it back any longer. She found him by the fence in the yard, leaning against it with that calm, unreadable expression he always wore. Y/N marched over, the hurt bubbling up before she could stop herself.

            “Michael,” she said, voice sharper than she intended. He looked up, his burrows furrowing instantly.

            “What’s wrong? Are you in pain?” he asked, immediately sensing her agitation.

            “I know I shouldn’t read into this,” she muttered as she leaned against the fence next to him. “I know Bellick will taunt me, lie to me, annoy me…anything to make my life hell. However, he told me your wife came to visit again… In the conjugal room,” she finished.

            Michael’s eyes flickered with recognition, and she saw his expression harden. “Y/N, I–“

            She cut him off, her words spilling out faster than she could think. “I know I’m not giving out, ok? I know, but you have to believe me I don’t want to get caught…fucking. I don’t want to fuck in the showers cause its gross. We are never alone, but the conjugal room…people go there for a secret rendezvous.”

            Michael watched as she rambled and he took her hands in his, kissing it before dropping them. “I didn’t do anything with her,” he replied. “I had to get a key from her and that was the only way. Trust me. I am loyal,” he responded. “Nika…it never happened. It never will happen.”

            Michael reached out, gently grabbing her arm to stop her from worrying. His touch was calm, steady and it immediately grounded her. “Y/N, look at me,” he softly said, his blue eyes locking into hers. “I understand why you’re upset, and I’m sorry you had to hear it from Bellick of all people. But nothing happened. I swear to you.”

            She nodded, rubbing her face before licking her lips.

            “I want it to be you too,” he continued, his voice low and full of emotion. “But when we do this – when we’re together like that – I want it to be right. I don’t want it to be rushed or because we feel like we have to. I want it to be because we both want it, and because we both know it’s what we need.”

            Y/N let out a shakey breath, her heart still racing, but she nodded. He was right. She knew he was right.

            “I’m sorry,” she whispered, running a hand through her hair. “I just…when I heard-“

            “–You don’t need to apologise. I get it. But I’m here with you and when the time is right, we’ll have that moment and it’ll be worth it.”

            Y/N nodded and then smiled. “Ok,” she whispered.

-

The showers were empty, save for the sound of water hitting the tiles, the steam rising and curling around the room. Michael did this every other day at the same time…clearing out the shower, making sure no one would disturb them for a while. It was the only time they were truly alone.

            Y/N stood under the spray, her eyes closed as the warm water cascaded down her body, washing away the grime of the day. She was aware of him standing nearby, across the way, leaning against the wall, watching her intently.

            Her hand brushed over the stitches on her stomach, wincing slightly at the tenderness. She glanced up at Michael, who hadn’t moved from his spot, his eyes fixed on her with a mixture of concern and something else – something deeper, more intimate.

            “How are your stitches?” he asked, his voice soft but carrying in the quiet room.

            Y/N smirked, knowing exactly what he was thinking but was too cautious to act on. Her lips curled into a teasing smile as she tilted her head back, letting the water run over her neck. “Why don’t you come over and check it for yourself, boy genius?”

            Michael’s jaw tightened, and she could see the flicker of temptation in his eyes. She was flirting, pushing him in that playful way she always did, but this time she could tell he was fighting with himself, not wanting to hurt her or do anything reckless.

            “You know I can’t. Doc’s orders,” he said quietly, though his eyes betrayed how much he wanted.

            “Doc said no extraneous activity. Showering with me isn’t extraneous, plus you still owe me a birthday present,” she challenged, her voice low and sultry as she took a step back, letting the water hit her chest and stomach, droplets glistening against her skin. “Because I know you want to. And I’m not as fragile as you think, Michael Scofield. Come on…I want you here.”

            Her words were a temptation he could barely resist. Slowly, Michael began to undress, peeling his shirt and slipping out his prison uniform. He was methodical, almost careful in the way he moved, but his eyes never left hers. Y/N watched with him with a mix of anticipation and hunger, her heart beating faster as she him bare himself for her.

            She loved that tattoo. It was a work of art, but it was also her ticket out of her.

            When he stepped into the shower, the steam enveloped them both, cocooning them in the warmth of water. He stood just inches away from her, the heat of his body radiating toward her, but he didn’t touch her. His eyes travelled down her body, lingering on her stomach where the stitches marred her skin.

            “You should be careful,” he murmured, his voice rougher now, a bit strained. “I don’t want to hurt you.”

            Y/N smirked again, this time stepping closer, so that their bodies were almost touching. Her hand came to wrap around his waist, and she leaned her head against his chest. His hand came up cradling her head as he held her. “You won’t hurt me,” she whispered, lifting her hand to trace the lines on his chest, her fingers moving slowly, sensually. “I want you to touch me, Michael. I’m fine. Just… touch me.”

            Michael swallowed hard, his hands twitching at his sides, but he hesitated. He looked down at her, his gaze drawn to the delicate stitches on her abdomen, but when he glanced back up at her face, he saw the desire in her eyes, the trust. Slowly, he raised his hand, brushing the back of his fingers against her skin, trailing lightly over her stomach, careful to avoid the stitches but not afraid to touch her anymore.

            Y/N closed her eyes at the sensation, leaning into his touch as if she had been waiting for the moment forever. “See?” she whispered, her voice almost a purr. “I’m not going to break.”

            His hands moved to her side, gentle but firm, and he pulled her closer, their bodies finally pressing together under the warm spray of the shower. Michael’s breath hitched as he felt her against him, her skin soft and slick from water. He was being so careful, so restrained, but Y/N wanted more.

            “Michael,” she murmured, her hands sliding up his arms to his shoulders, pulling him down to her level. “Don’t hold back.”

            He exhaled sharply, his control slipping as he finally gave in, his hands moving with more confidence now, tracing the curve of her waist, the small of her back. He leaned down, brushing his lips against the damp skin of her neck, breathing in the scent of her, the heat of her body overwhelming his senses.

            Y/N titled her head back, letting the water and his touch consume her. She had never felt so close to him, so vulnerable and yet so powerful all at once. His touch was reverent, almost worshipful, but there was a fire in his movements now, a desperation he could no longer hide.

            “Michael,” she whispered, and he looked into her eyes. Y/N spread her legs and took his hand pressing it against her heat…her womanhood. “Please,” she whispered as she pressed a kiss to his jaw.

            Michael swallowed hard, knowing exactly what she wanted. Therefore, licking his lips be pushed his finger down, spreading her lips before touching her clit. A moan came from her as she grasped his arm. He watched at her breath rose and fell from its breath.

            “Michael,” she moaned, and he knew what she wanted.

            Slowly, he moved his fingers against her clit, spreading the lips and grasping her womanhood. His spare hand came to cup her jaw and cheek, bringing her lips to his as his fingers worked wonders below.

            “I’ve wanted this for so long,” she whispered against his skin, her breath hot against his neck. He gripped her cheek, nodding along.

“So have I,” he breathed as he played with her wetness…with her heat.

Michael inserted two fingers in her, feeling her arousal as he pumped it slowly before his thumb went to her clit.

Their lips met, slow at first, tentative but soon enough the tension exploded between them, and it quickly deepened. Her hands roamed his body, careful, but possessive as she melted into the pleasure. She felt like she finally got something from him…the connection she had been craving for so long.

His speed picked up and she turned into a moaning mess. Michael simply smiled, looking down to her pleading eyes.

“Good girl,” he whispered, kissing her lips.

In that moment, nothing else mattered – the prison, the danger, the stitches. It was just the two of them, wrapped in the heat of the water and the intensity of their emotions.

And just like that she came.

-

The steam still lingered in the air, swirling around them as Y/N stood in front of the small mirror, methodically applying her cream to her skin, her movements slow and deliberate. Her body still hummed and buzzed from the post orgasmic bliss she was in…the intimacy from the shower and the way Michael touched her, held her, loved her. She wanted to return the favour, but he denied, scared about her stitches.

            However, as she stood in front of the mirror, she could feel his eyes on her, watching her from across the room, half-dressed and completely entranced.

            She glanced at him through the mirror, catching his soft smile, the way his eyes seemed to light up whenever they landed on her. It was a look she had not seen often – one of pure affection, one that made her feel like she was the only person in the world.

            He touched her, fingered her and granted her pleasure. She was in heaven.

            “You’re staring,” she teased, running her fingers through her damp hair, combing I tout with slow strokes.

            Michael chuckled, pulling his shirt over his shoulders but leaving it unbuttoned as he leaned against the wall, his gaze never wavering. “I can’t help it,” he said softly, his voice full of warmth. “You’re beautiful.”

            She smiled, but quickly turned her attention back to the mirror. “Beautiful for prison, you should see me outside of her. All dolled up, in leather, silk or lace,” she mused. “Stockings and lingerie from Paris. Louboutin and lashes.”

            Michael bit his lip and chuckled, coming up to her. “I don’t need you in that shit,” he mused, kissing her cheek. “I like you natural.” Then he went back to dressing himself.

            After a moment of quiet, she glanced back at him, her tone shifting to something more serious. “Michael…I overheard you talking to Lincoln yesterday,” she started, her fingers pausing as she smoothed the cream over her arms. “You seemed…off. There was bad news, wasn’t there.”

            His smile faltered just a little, his expression darkening as her question hit. He sighed, running a hand through his buzzed hair as he pushed away from the wall and came to stand behind her again. Y/N turned to face him, her eyes searching his for answers. She could tell something was weighing on him, something big.

            Michael hesitated, his gaze shifting away for a moment before he spoke. “Yeah,” he admitted, his voice low. “According to my calculations I’ve made…we’re one person too many for the escape.” His brows furrowed when he said it, the weight of the problem settling between them. “We need to drop a person. We only have twenty minutes to get the window open and crawl across.”

            Y/N’s heart sank at the words. She knew the escape plan was already delicate, every detail critical to their success, and now they had to make the impossible choice of who to leave behind. “Who…who are you thinking?” she asked, her voice barely above a whisper, her mind racing with possibilities.

            Before she could spiral into worry, Michael stepped closer, wrapping his arms around her from behind. His hands slid slowly up her sides, gentle but firm, his touch instantly grounding her. He leaned in, pressing a soft kiss to the side of her neck, his breath warm against her skin.

            “Don’t worry about it,” he murmured, his lips brushing against her ear as he spoke. “I’ll figure it out.”

            “T-Bag,” she whispered. “Get rid of him.”

            Y/N’s body relaxed slightly under his touch, the tension in her shoulders easing as his hands moved up to rest on her stomach. She leaned back against him, letting the warmth of his body and the steady rhythm of his breathing calm her racing thoughts.

            “I trust you,” she whispered, her voice soft, her fingers clutching the fabric of his shirt.

            Michael smiled, pressing a kiss to the top of her head, his arms tightening around her as if to protect her from all the chaos outside of the small, stolen moment of peace. “Good,” he whispered back, his lips brushing against her hair. “Because I won’t let anything happen to you. Not ever.”

            And now for this fleeting moment, Y/N believed him.

-

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 @wonuskie @believeinthefireflies95

[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.

[slytherbun]

ruining - prison break: series

mfm pairing: michael scofield x reader and lincoln burrows x reader. brother pairing: michael scofield x lincoln burrows.

summary of series: eight years and five months is enough time to experience major life choices and decisions. it's also plenty to miss out on when getting caught and arrested. the biggest surprise of all though is when you're transported to a level-one maximum security prison strictly for males.

warning: this is somewhat a canon version of the story but not all of the storylines will feature or add up in this series. it will obviously not follow all of the prison break's original plots because of the way it has to be written to include reader.

another warning: there will be a slow burn between lincoln and reader due to the first season's events.

note: the brother's relationship will remain close and not be affected with their pursuance in reader.

another note: lincoln doesn't receive enough love so i wanted to make it a poly series. and i know the show is older and it won't get as many views but i hope this series will inspire you to watch the show on hulu! :)

season one

chapter zero: prologue

chapter one: coming soon.

and more chapters . . .

[random-imagines-blog]

Imagine trying to help Michael Scofield with his illness.

After all of this time, all of the worrying, you finally knew what was wrong with Michael. He had been trying to hide his sickness, but as his partner, you had been able to see right through it. Taking him to the hospital. Hypothalamic Hamartoma.

And he would need to get surgery to remove the tumor from his brain. “I’m not doing it,” Michael would say, stubborn til the last, no matter how much you tried to get him to do it. “I’m not giving up now. We have to finish everything.”

“You’re not going to be able to do a goddamn thing if you’re dead,” You said, frowning. “Or even in the best case scenario, passing out all of the time. This is serious, not just losing a toe or a burn.”

“There’s no time!” Michael would argue, his eyes turned on you. He was in pain, it was evident, and he was fighting against it so hard. “I’ve just got to - get through the next couple of days, the next couple of stages-”

“If this was about wills, babe, I know that you would win. You can fight through anything but sometimes you have to lose a battle in order to win the war,” You would say, resting your head upon his shoulder. You just wanted to get through to him. You wanted him to live. You wanted him for the rest of your life. “And I’ll take care of you after, you know I will. And you’ll get better then we can figure all this out then-”

“I can’t,” Michael said, softly. “We have to break into the Company.”

“Fine,” You said, frowning, holding him closer. “But if anything happens to you, I’m bringing you back and saying I told you so. I mean it.”

“I know,” He said, and rubbed your arm gently, trying to reassure you that he knew what he was doing, despite the fact that neither of you knew how bad it could really get.

Requested by: @chughead101​

[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!

[rreader]

Goodbye, my Love.

Pairing: Michael Scofield x Reader Fandom: Prison Break Warnings: angst :’)

Summary: Before going into Fox River, Michael has one last person to say goodbye to.

A/N: don’t judge me, I just couldn’t stop myself. It’s just something short and angsty, but I just asdfghjkl, I love this man so much. (added Michael to my fandoms page)

                                                           *****

“Yeah, mom, I'm home,” you smiled, standing in front of your door and rummaging through your handbag, to find your keys. “Yes, I'm opening the door right now. Okay, mom. Yeah. I love you, too. Goodnight,” you pushed open the door and shook your head.

No matter your age, your mom still wanted you to call when you got home safely.

A treasure, that woman.

You switched on the lights and threw the mail carelessly onto the small round-table next to the door, then you walked into the living room, still wearing your heels and dress, that you had been wearing in the bar.

Suddenly, the lamp in the living room got turned on. The one, next to your armchair. And while you were scared shitless for the first 3 seconds, a relieved sigh escaped you when you saw who it was.

“Michael..”

He smiled and got up from the chair, walking over to you, so he could greet you with a tight hug.

“You scared me, you know?” your arms went around his neck and you buried your face in the crook of his neck. God, you loved his perfume so much. 

“I'm sorry. Didn't mean to.”

“I know.. Are you alright, though? I thought you were on a business trip?” you leaned back a bit, so you could look into his eyes, but his arms stayed right where they were, around your mid, holding you where you were. And the way he looked at you, like he was trying to remember this moment. 

Trying to remember how you felt in his arms. The way your eyes shined when you looked at him, your beautiful smile. Every single detail. 

“Came back an hour ago and wanted to see you.”

One of your hands came up on the side of his face, your thumb brushing over his cheekbone.

You knew that something was up, you always did with him.

Michael might always try his hardest to put on a mask to hide his feelings, but especially with you, that just didn't work. And to be honest, you didn’t want him to.

“Talk to me.. what's wrong?”

“Nothing,” he kissed your forehead, then pulled you back again, for another hug. “I love you, (Y/N). You know I do, right?”

“Michael, stop.. now you’re actually scaring me.”

He did stop talking. He only held you in his arms, breathing in the smell of your hair, for what felt like hours, before giving you a final, passionate kiss and whispering a “goodbye” into your ear.

Then he walked out of your door.

If only you had known then, that this would be the last time you'd see him for years.