Wentworth Miller Imagines

Fox river 8 (M.S)

The area I live in is secluded, usually when my mum does come to visit I spend time with her at some run down diner a few miles south from where I live.

I park up my car and I'm surprised to see for once Janet has some customers who aren't me. I'm guessing anyways, judging by the massive van parked outside.

"The usual Y/N?" She smiles. "You know it." I reply back helping myself to the sweets on her counter. Over time I've become very fond of Janet. She was the first person I met when I moved here. She helped me get home when I was lost. I've always been dopey.

"Where's your mum?" She asks, knowing all to well I don't get along with her. "At home, probably trying to set me up on another dating website." We both laugh at how cheesy my life is. "I see you've got customers today." I whisper, bopping my head towards 5 men, their outfits co ordinating. She nods smiling and carries on cooking my food.

I forgot to mention the diners very tiny so there's not more than 4 tables around. I walk to the only vacant table that's roughly half a meter away from all the men. It's so weird to see the diner packed, it's something you wouldn't imagine.

The men tense as I sit at my table, almost suspicious. I ignore them and pull my phone out of my pocket. Reading an article about taxes and all that stressful rubbish, my phone screen is scattered with pictures of 8 men. I look up to their faces, then look straight down. The guy with the piercing blue eyes notices and starts to rally the rest of his friends up. I look away acting like nothing happened and then out of nowhere I'm lifted off my chair and into somebody's chest.

"GET OFF OF ME!" I scream at the man named Theodore Bagwell. I'd be lying if I said I wasn't petrified after reading an article about him. "Now, now pretty, this isn't going to hurt unless you let it." He speaks, with a strong southern accent. "T-bag, let her go." Blue eyes speaks. Or should I say scofield.

"She knows, papi." The Puerto Rican man speaks. I start thrashing and kicking but it's no use. Janet's in the back and can't hear me with his hand on my mouth. "It doesn't mean we do anything to her. She's a girl man." The older brother Burrows speaks. He looks like a giant, with bruises and cuts that are old but still haven't stopped bleeding.

"We don't have to kill her, I have other things in mind." That pervert T-bag breathes onto my neck. I use all the power I have to knee him in his bloody and broken arm, the one missing a hand. The force so hard he drops me to the ground and I try to run but blue eyes stops me. He holds onto my shoulders, eyes locked into mine. I shrug his hands off me and to my surprise he moves them.

"We're leaving, you stay." He whispers. Can I mention mesmerisingly. I nod and he escorts me back to my seat as the rest start leaving. "I'm sorry about this." Is the last thing he says and leaves.

A few hours later

I never called the police and ended up eating my breakfast at the diner. I felt bad for Janet and paid on the guys behalf acting like they left the money on the table. My mum texted saying she left to go back home in New York, finally. After finishing some final bits and pieces of my grocery shopping I return home and not a single light or fuse is working. Talk about one hell of a hectic day. I guess that's the struggle of living in Utah.

There's a knock on my door and I'm just as shocked, or maybe blue eyes even more to be seeing each other again. This time dressed as electricians. "You can't be serious." I seeth, directly at no-hand Bagwell. "Looks like fate has joined us at the hip once again, pretty." He smirks and the guys let themselves in.

"Give me one good reason why I shouldn't turn you in right now." I look to blue eyes. "Because we have $5 million and you can take a share out of it. Given that it is your home and you haven't handed us in yet." I look at him in complete and utter irritation, but something about them wants me to help them.

"Do whatever, just don't break any vases." I sigh as they laugh. "I promise no broken vases." Scofield speaks, his eyes still locked onto mine. "Do you think you could make us a meal if it's not to much to ask." Lincoln asks. "I can't cook, make it yourself." Is the final thing I say before trudging upstairs, with a bunch of criminals roaming around my home.

A little while later there's a knock on my door. I admit showering wasn't the best thing to do whilst they were in my house, but if a girls got issues she has to deal with them, besides my doors locked. "One second." I shout. I pull on a shirt and open the doors to blue eyes as I almost finish buttoning up my jeans. "What's wrong?" I ask not looking towards him.

"We can't cook either." He laughs. "I'll order you take out." I internally die, he's so cute. "I never introduced myself properly. I'm Michael Scofield." He grins boyishly. Oh my God even his teeth are amazing. "Y/N." I smile back at him. His sits next to me on my bed as I pull my phone out. In the middle of my call he started nodding along to what toppings to and not to get. It was utterly amusing given the situation. I hadn't noticed before but when the call ended he was holding my hand tightly. He notices that I've seen but doesn't move away. Instead he pushes his head closer to mine.

His eyes flicker from my eyes to my lips and then back to my eyes. My breath quickens. His hand raises in that corny move the girls hair out of her face move, and subsequently his soft hand cups my right cheek. I melt in the spot, like a little school girl telling her crush she loves him. His gaze lowers back to my lips and after years his gentle lips come in contact with mine. The best part, I don't stop him one bit at all.

His hand wanders around my body and then to my inner thigh. I feel his fingers tap on the skin as he kisses me. God, he's amazing. A few moments of blissful pleasure and he lifts himself off the top of me. "Can't ever be to careful." He smirks, and pulls that perfect metal wrapper out of his pocket. The same cube shaped wrapper that dictates the deed for the next hour.

And he's back on top of me again.

A/N

Just so you don't get confused the metal wrappers a condom. I just don't like the word 'condom' loool x