#Michael scofield imagines

[chiquita99]

*PMS-ing*

Summary: it is that time of the month

⚠️Warning⚠️ None

_____________________________________

You were cozy on the cream suede couch with a fleece blanket and some chocolate, watching The Vampire Diaries.

You had popped some extra strength tylenol and it just started numbing the pain.

Finally some relief ugh.

Your husband wanted to get frisky last night but you couldn't allow that level of intimacy due to pain.

The first day is always the most brutal.

The sound of the front door opening, made you turn your head, even though you knew it was your husband.

"How was your day babe, do you feel better?" Michael asked as he entered the house and removed his jacket.

"I'm alive" you sigh and lay into your soft body billow.

He comes over and kisses the top of your head, then hands you a pack of Hershey kiss chocolates.

"Thank you hun" you smile softly.

"Anything for you sweetheart" he smiled back and sat in the spot next to you.

He wrapped his arm around your shoulder and pulled you into his side, making you let go of your pillow.

He looked at the scene on the TV and asked "what team are you? Damon or Stefan?".

You hummed and then replied " [your choice] ".

"If I were a girl, I'd be team Damon" he smirked.

"Really? Why?" You quizzed and looked at him with your soft eyes.

He gave you a quick peck on the lips.

"Damon would burn the world for his woman. I would also"

You snuggle more into his side and he rests his head against yours.

You both shared a few moments of silence. Taking in the day.

"How was work?" You ask him.

He hummed in thought before responding, "it was pretty okay. I was going over blueprints for a beautiful Mediterranean tower a husband wanted to build his wife"

He looked down to his cheek and gently moved a piece of hair that fell into your face.

You smile at the romantic gesture. It was sweet to see what a person would do for another.

"What would you like for dinner babe?" Michael asked.

"I think I have chicken in the fridge" you tell him and get out of your comfy spot.

"Oh babe, you didn't have to worry about it right this minute" Michael said and got up with you.

He followed you into the kitchen.

You opened the fridge and quickly skimmed the contents.

"Oh f**ks sake" you curse in frustration.

You forgot to pull the chicken from the freezer to thaw.

"What is wrong??" He asked in confusion.

You face palm and shake your head in anger.

Tears then start falling from your eyes.

Michael is stunned and doesn't know what to do.

His eyes glued to you.

"Babe" he says.

"Babe"

He wraps his arms around you and pulls you into his chest.

You start balling and sobbing into his blue dress shirt.

He cooes you like you would a baby, and he strokes your hair.

"We will get chinese food. We can get starbucks. Do you want pizza?.....um do you need a burger?" He starts babbling.

You shake your head no into his chest and cry some more.

"I'll get your chocolate from the livingroom" he says and goes to grab your chocolate in a rush.

He returns in a jiffy and is unwrapping the foil on the chocolate to give to you.

You push his hand away that carried the chocolate.

He still had a bewildered look on his face.

He looks into space before undoing his belt.

"Is it sex you need?" He asked, fumbling the buckle.

Your tears stopped pouring and you couldn't help but let a giggle slip.

"I heard sometimes women get upset when they need more sex. I mean, I can give it right here on the counter"

You put your hand on his and he stops.

"No baby, it is just hormones" you tell him softly.

"I'm sorry" you sniffle.

"Don't say sorry baby. I understand" he tells you and pulls you into a hug again.

"It's a build up of not feeling good last night, forgetting things, and the extra feelings that are present at this time of the month" you say.

"I understand what you're saying" he assures, "pick out delivery, we'll finish your show, do some cuddles and kisses, and if you're up for it.........." he winks at you.

He plants a sweet kiss on your lips.

"Yes, I need some papi time" you giggle

[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

[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.

[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.

[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.

[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?!?)

[amis3k]

[fake-russian-chick]

Guys… You know what I’m here for, right? Yeah, to talk about my current hyper fixation, Prison Break.

As always, spoilers for season 4 under the cut

I’m in the S04E23, and I have a hell of a lot to talk about it.

Firstly, Christina Scofield, I hate you like I never hated another character in my life, I hate you more than I hate Esther Mikaelson, and I never thought that would be possible. How can you think so low of Lincoln?!? Like, I get that you don’t feel maternal love for him, but why do you hate him so much?!? The guy used to go everyday to see you in the hospital, you ungrateful bitch.

Also, loved how Michael was totally ready to first drown and then shoot his own mother for Lincoln and the crew, but I kinda wished he had actually killed someone, maybe Christina herself, but I think that the General would be the perfect choice.

Secondly, WHEN IS MY BABYGIRL SARA GOING TO HAVE MORE THAN AN HOUR OF PEACE AND HAPINNESS?!? Just let her be happy, this woman already suffered so much.

Now, let’s talk about Mahone. Like, I love Mahone so freaking much, he’s my second favorite character, right after T-Bag, but we’ll get on that subject later on. Anyways, Mahone was perfect almost the entire season, but he fucked up now betraying Michael to have his job back, but considering that in the 4 years time-skip he was there with everyone, I imagine he redeemed himself, so I’m gonna wait and see.

Another thing, why in seven hells didn’t they showed us when Michael and Sara finally had sex?!? Me and my sis were waiting for that moment, and they just don’t show us?!? I’m outraged.

Ohh, and C-Note’s and Kellerman’s returns? I FUCKING SCREAMED in my living room. Loved it, and loved to have them back, together with my favorite boy Sucre

And lastly, for the moment everyone knew was coming, let’s discuss my dear T-Bag.

So, after like ten episodes of Teddy being the nice guy, he suddenly remembered that he’s a psycho and went three whole seasons back to how he was in Fox River, even doing the pocket thing? Like, I really don’t get. The writers took three seasons trying to redeem an irredeemable character, by stopping showing scenes of him trying to assault a child, and never again talking about the whole pet thing he used to do in prison, only to now throw all that in the trash by making him be that disgusting with Sara. And, of course, I have to mention what Sara said about T-Bag’s apparent neurologic ED, because I have a lot of questions. He can’t get it up if not by causing pain in someone? He can’t get it up at all? But then, he never had sex with Susan Hollander? And what about the mail woman? She seemed rather satisfied after having sex with him. And, I got a few spoilers, and don’t T-Bag has a son, or something like that? How can he have a son if he can’t get it up? Maybe he can do it, but it’s just hard, or doesn’t last long? So how was that woman so satisfied? Did he learned a few other tricks? Like I said, a lot of questions, and no answers.

I see now that I already wrote way too much, so here I say my goodbyes for now. Tomorrow when I finish the season and watch the movie, I obviously will have a lot to say.

Good night everyone, and kisses from Brazil

[alicepao13]

Hudson and Rex S04E16 - Dog Days Are Over - Part C

More than fine, if that takedown towards the end of the episode is any indication.

"I smell a bad guy."

My god, where are you going?

Sadly, I never paid too much attention to what exactly Scofield's deal was. Apparently the place he was in was like an off-the-books shelter? And Joe did not report the lady who was running it, so that she could keep doing it.

This, I actually attribute to the fact that Charlie wasn't at his best. He didn't give the guy a second glance.

More Criminal Minds.

Flying doggo duo! Okay, sometimes they have some crazy ideas.

Louder, Charlie. She was what?

I still remember my disbelief that this was happening right then and there after I'd re-calculated and set my expectations accordingly mid-season because no way these idiots would be able to get their shit together in a few episodes.

I really like the hesitation before he speaks again, he makes it very obvious that it's difficult for him to come clean.

I'd have worked something else in there. I mean, the performances are good but I'd have written some more. Maybe something less passive too. Also, "want" is not what I'd have used. Or a generalization.

Having said that, if I was in Sarah's shoes, I don't know if I'd have received well the fact that he waited until she was with Michael to make a move either way. I've said it before. Okay, this is a story and with it come certain liberties, for example if the writers say that there's a couple that's meant to be and I'm not referring to this situation specifically, then they're meant to be and the audience has to go with it. But in real life when a guy waits until you get in a relationship with someone else to reveal his feelings, he's probably taken for granted that you'll always be available for him. Anyway, this is a reason why it's good that we see more Charlie's point of view than Sarah's because we can tell it's not that but also like I mentioned before, it does a disservice to Sarah because we don't know what she's thinking a lot of the time.

She's trying to decide which one of them is the bigger idiot.

Yes, of course, I believe you, darling. He made such a pause before saying Michael, maybe he wanted to say something like "that lucky bastard".

I would not have appreciated him bulldozing my life like that at this point when he had stayed silent for so long. Just saying. I'd have cussed him out at least.

"Fuckity fuck fuck."

The music in that scene was great.

Um, you'll be adopting the puppy on your own, I'm afraid (not).

lol sorry but this is funny. And it's also awkward because it's all done in the precinct, in the middle of the bullpen in fact, like imagine if Michael got angry and started yelling. Some people would have gossip fodder for weeks.

"Is there someone else..." Let's just say that your initial instincts were right, Michael.

The transition after "is there someone else" is the exact same one used from S02E18 when the wife of Sarah's professor asks her if there is a boyfriend.

Cue the pining fool (affectionate). Don't worry, you won't have to suffer for long. Unlike us who still had to suffer for months.

Are you guys going to kiss?

She came! Well, for the audience after the previous scene there's no question whether Sarah would appear there. But Charlie didn't know that. There's a question of how she would know. Maybe Charlie spends a lot of time there when he's sad? It's certainly a great view. And snowy! I love it, really. I love that Rex is there as well.

Of course I would have loved for them not to leave us on a cliffhanger because I totally spent the next five months considering various ways they could screw it up since they hadn't made anything certain. Again, while it's a quite famous show it's a relatively small production (if you were to compare it to your average internationally successful crime show, that is) so for me there are no guarantees and no "they will do this because it's been done this way". I can make a few relatively safe assumptions, like when they started the season that way, I could make the assumption about where they were headed and be quite confident about it, but there are no certainties. I think I've talked before about the season hitting certain plot points that were indicative of where Charlie and Sarah would end up.

I would have been surprised if they actually didn't go there after all this, though. Aside from my shippy heart which would have been shattered (yeah I'm being dramatic), there would have been obvious questions like, what were you doing all this for? However, if they'd started S5 by tentatively going towards them being a couple while not having them be a couple, I'd be satisfied with that too. Certainly, when one of them has already confessed their feelings and the other breaks up, you can't exactly go back to them being just friends with no explanation.

One thing that I will distinguish for this season? For the first time, we didn't end up at the same point we started. That was a nice change as for the last three seasons the only thing that would progress was Charlie and Rex's partnership which mostly happened because John Reardon and Diesel became more familiar with each other and could play off of each other better. As always, I would have liked an arc with a big bad but I'm coming to terms with the fact that it will never happen. I would have liked Charlie's actions to be explored more and into something other than "I'm acting out because the woman I like is with someone else". He's been through a lot in the span of a few seasons. It's not unrealistic to have issues from his experiences on the job. Besides, everyone was at one point or another worried about him. In the season finale everyone was worried about how he was taking the case and about his judgement but then this is magically resolved because he gets together with Sarah and we forget everything.

I liked the moments of tension in this season most of all. I never thought I'd miss that because in a regular crime show, there's usually a lot of that between characters. But yeah, Hudson and Rex needed these moments. And it doesn't have to be manufactured drama, when people work with each other all day, there's bound to be some friction.

I'm looking forward to S5, even though it's long as hell lol

[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.

[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

[mrsgreenworld]

So I've been off the radar here again. Life keeps being crazy and the dizi world has been so freaking disappointing, tbh. Been done with Safir for a while now. And then kinda took a little break from dizis all together. But I checked out a new Gülseren show - Sakla Beni. It's a psychological slaughter house so I don't think I'll be watching it. Got enough psycho mess in my actual life now.

I binge watched Yabani, courtesy of @lolo-deli 😁 It's a decent show that's got a fast moving plot but it's nothing more than that for me.

And then yesterday completely out of the blue I decided to rewatch the first season of Prison Break and was reminded how good shows could actually be. I was reminded how much I love Michael Scofield and why he's one of my favourite characters ever. Besides the fact that he's a freaking genius, he's so damn gorgeous, his eyes alone will one day become my undoing. And then there's his beautiful heart that's bigger than the freaking universe. Imagine being loved by someone like him. It's a privilege I don't believe exists. At least not for me.

[inmatemilkovich]

I'll find a way to get arrested just so I can go to CCJ. Can't stop thinking about you

Wow, hold on there Michael Scofield ! How will you know if the judge will send you here instead of another prison? Imagine you commit a crime and they put you somewhere else, what then? No man, quit it, bad idea. Don't fuck up your life because of me. Much better if you come visit me in person, this way we'll get to know each other, no rush. You can bring me some pizza from time to time, what do you think? I like Vito's pepperoni, extra cheese.

[jansqu]

Michael Scofield Headcanon

Michael as boyfriend and as husband

Boyfriend:

Playful for time to time. most of the time he is tough and serious, but every now and then he likes to tease you. Soft smirks, playful challenges, and a surprisingly sharp sense of humor.

Holds on to Little Things. If you give him a note, a keychain, or even a random receipt from a date, he keeps it. It’s not about material things; it’s about memories.

Late-Night Conversations. Since he struggles with sleep, he loves lying in bed with you, just talking about anything—your childhood, your dreams, your favorite memories. He loves hearing your voice and knowing you’re there.

Comforting you after a nightmare. Holds you tight in his arms. "It´s ok, it´s ok" "You`re safe" Strokes your back and head.

Sketches You. You might catch him sketching when he thinks you’re asleep or busy. At first, he won’t admit it, but eventually, you’ll find little doodles of you in his notebooks, sometimes with tiny notes beside them.

Never let´s you go sleep angry. The few times you fight over something, he always makes sure to make up before going to sleep. He absolutely hates the idea of not getting to hug you when falling a sleep.

Husband:

Still Protective, But Softer. Marriage doesn’t change his protective instincts, but he’s learned to let his guard down more with you. He trusts you completely, which is rare for him.

Remembers Every Little Detail. Your favorite meal? He’ll surprise you with it. A random comment you made about wanting to visit a certain place? He’s already planning how to take you there.

Will Choose You, Always. If there’s ever a choice, no matter what, it will always be you. No hesitation, no second thoughts. You are his home, his heart, and the one thing he will fight for until his last breath.

Still Sketches You. As a boyfriend, he doodled you in notebooks. As a husband, he sketches full portraits of you when he thinks you’re not looking. Sometimes, they’re just of your hands intertwined with his, or the way you look when you’re lost in thought.

Wears His Wedding Band Even When He Shouldn’t. If he ever has to take it off (for safety reasons), he keeps it on a chain around his neck or in a pocket—he never lets it out of his sight.

Fixes Things Around the House. If something breaks, you don’t even have to ask. He’ll have it fixed before you even realize it was a problem.

[kiss-my-freckle]

Poseidon: Michael vs Sara

It's insane to me that fans are actually questioning who had it worse in Poseidon's storyline, Michael or Sara. I don't even consider that a real question. A disgusting joke, really.

"I used to think the worst feeling in the world was losing someone you loved, but I was wrong. The worst feeling is the moment that you realize that you've lost yourself." - Elena Gilbert, The Vampire Diaries

Michael

Michael's last four years were spent in solitary confinement because he tried to escape Ogygia Prison as soon as he got there. Take a roll of masking tape or painters tape into the biggest room of your house and mark yourself a 9ft x 6ft area. Stand inside of that area, then imagine living in it for four years.

This was Michael's home for four years. He told Ramal what he did while in solitary confinement. A string a day pulled from his uniform. 365 days per year, multiply that by four. A total of 1460 days that he spent in solitary cofinement, a total of 1460 strings that he pulled from his uniform.

I'm actually quite surprised that he didn't go insane.

Imagine everyday life in that cell. On days when Michael was the only prisoner in solitary, they would've been spent alone and in silence. Left to his own thoughts, he likely spent hours fantasizing… about going home, about holding his son. On days when he wasn't the only prisoner in solitary, he'd actually have the luxury of conversations with another human being, someone who could bring his spirits up and help him pass the time. This is as hopeless as hopeless can get, as lonely as lonely can get. One should wonder how many times he thought about giving up.

"No, that's just a memory." He was being denied his identity, so an "S" for Scofled was carved into the wall, and likely acted as a beacon of hope for him. He became so invisible that he might as well have never existed at all. Jacob was erasing him from history, literally. They couldn't even get his real face to show up on the internet when they typed in his name. He lost his very identity because he couldn't even admit to his real name while being recorded by C-Note. He only admitted his real name on Ja's cell phone because he believed he was going to die. He got stuck wearing the mask of Kaniel Outis, so he was Kaniel Outis.

In the three years that he actually worked for Poseidon, he believed that his escapes were sanctioned by the CIA because the CIA is capable of doing some pretty dirty stuff. Even though it was dirty work, Michael would've at least believed it was for good because it was for the CIA. It wasn't until Poseidon killed Gaines and framed him for the murder that he realized none of their work was sanctioned, that Poseidon went rogue. So every rogue agent, every dissident, every terrorist that Michael helped escape from prison wasn't sanctioned by the CIA. This goes against everything Michael believes in, which would've affected him on a spiritual level. Certainly a lot of guilt to carry there. Fans might as well imagine Michael finding out that he was working for the General while being blind to the fact that he was working for the General because that's basically what it amounts to. He would've preferred death, honestly.

The entire world believed he was a terrorist working with ISIL, and he was getting abused by the guards because of it. Even C-Note questioned who they were breaking out of prison, Michael Scofield or Kaniel Outis.

A person that believes their spouse is dead will mourn and eventually move on as Sara did with Jacob. A person in Michael's shoes, in his knowing that his wife is alive and out there... a constant longing to be with her, and knowing there's absolutely nothing he can do about it.

Michael might as well have been fixed in cement. There is no "moving on" in solitary confinement for four years. Ogygia Prison was his tomb.

"Kaniel Outis" was the perfect name choice for him because Michael became Nobody. To everyone he loved, he was dead and buried. He never once held his son. The only people he's had in his life in the last four years were the friendships he built while in Ogygia. Whip essentially became his brother, and Poseidon left both of them to die in that prison.

"I used to think the worst feeling in the world was losing someone you loved, but I was wrong. The worst feeling is the moment that you realize that you've lost yourself." - Elena Gilbert, The Vampire Diaries

Quote callback. Michael not only lost his wife, he lost himself. He outwardly admitted that somewhere in there, he became a ghost.

Sara

Was Sara thrown into prison while she was pregnant? Yes. Did she nearly lose her child because she was fed rat poison? Yes. Did the love of her life die right in front of her? Yes.

This is Sara following all of those events. She's watching the video Michael made for her and Lincoln.

This is Sara three years later. She and her son were free to live a normal life. She wasn't a fugitive, she wasn't living a life on the run. Her freedom was the entire reason Michael agreed to work for Poseidon in the first place. This was stated out of Michael's own mouth at least three times.

"Poseidon told me Kellerman didn't have the authority or jurisdiction to exonerate our crimes. He used that as a legal fulcrum. Told me he could put us all away for life within the mandate of the law unless… unless I went to work for him."

"And he needed my help breaking out people imprisoned all over the world. Terrorists, political dissidents, rogue agents. And if I did it, you and Sara, you'd go free. Your record's expunged."

"He told me if I didn't agree to come work for him, he'd go after you and Linc, put you both in jail. And then he proved it to me."

This is Sara four years later. Fans need to stop acting like she was incapable of surviving without Michael. Did she mourn him? Most certainly. But she was able to move on. She not ony got remarried, she more than proved she had no problem living without Michael because it came out of Jacob's own mouth, and she agreed with all of it.

"Do you remember our honeymoon? How you opened up. Told me you carried shame for what you did at Fox River. How some days you wished you'd never heard the name Michael Scofield. Even admitted to lying, keeping it all from me. How you finally came clean and put it all behind you? I forgave you for the lies. Your past. Accepted you. Loved you and Mike."

THIS is how well Sara moved on.

"I used to think the worst feeling in the world was losing someone you loved, but I was wrong. The worst feeling is the moment that you realize that you've lost yourself." - Elena Gilbert, The Vampire Diaries

Quote callback. Sara lost her husband. She did not lose herself.

She was a wife, a mother, a daughter-in-law, and a friend. She was not alone, and she had no reason to be hopeless. Sara had everything that Michael did not, which was the entire point of him working for Poseidon and the very reason Michael had it worse than she did. Because he didn't want her to have it worse than he did. He wanted her to have a life, and she did... for seven years.

UNTIL is your Michael - Sara parallel

Jacob was Sara's husband, the two of them were raising Michael together, and the three of them were a happy family UNTIL she learned the truth about Jacob. So no, she didn't spend years living with a monster. She lived according to what she believed, as did Michael.

Michael worked for Poseidon for three years, and believed everything that he was doing for him was sanctioned by the CIA UNTIL he learned the truth - that Jacob had gone rogue.

A disgusting joke because Michael had it worse, by far.

[phonecaseboss]

The Filming of Prison Break at Cinespace

Breaking Out in Chicago When Prison Break first hit television screens in 2005, it quickly became one of the most gripping and high-stakes dramas on network TV. With its intricate plot, tense action, and the unforgettable brotherly bond between Michael Scofield (Wentworth Miller) and Lincoln Burrows (Dominic Purcell), the show captured the imaginations of millions. Packed with suspense, shocking…