#malex fanfiction Tumblr posts

  • pastelwitchling
    02.12.2021 - 12 hours ago

    I noticed from the first episode of season 3 to episode 10 that Alex bed comforter changed and it's only been a week and a couple of days since then so it's canon in my head that Micheal found out Forrest was in that bed and freaked and bought a whole new comforter and sheet set and just showed up with bags. Alex just smiles and let's him do his work 🤣🤣 I can just imagine him doing that

                   Alex tilted his head as he leaned against the doorframe of his bedroom, watching Michael tear off the sheets of his bed and throw them to the floor. He kicked them for good measure and replaced them with the sheets he’d bought new.

                   Or he was going to before he stopped, considering the bed.

                   “You know what?” he said. “I’ll change the mattress, too.”

                   Alex barked out a laugh, and hugged Michael from behind. “No,” he said, “you won’t. Guerin, it was months ago, and I’ve cleaned up around here a hundred times since then.”

                   “I can still smell him,” Michael growled, holding onto Alex’s forearm to keep them attached. “All over your stuff, Alex. That stupid clean laundry smell –”

                   “Forrest smelled like cinnamon,” Alex said into the crook of Michael’s neck before pressing a kiss there. “That clean laundry smell actually is clean laundry.”

                   Michael turned in his hold, wrapping his arms around his waist. “I can’t stand the thought of someone else touching you, someone else in your house –”

                   “I know,” Alex murmured, his smile dimmer. Michael seemed to hear the rest of his sentence, I know the feeling.

                   Michael winced. “I’m sorry.”

                   “I know that, too,” Alex whispered and kissed his lips. Michael moaned at once, dropping his new sheets, his hands slipping under Alex’s sweater. Alex wrapped his arms around Michael’s shoulders, tilting his head to deepen the kiss.

                   “You know,” Alex said breathlessly as Michael’s fingers wandered around his stomach, back, chest, and sides, “I think I know some other way you can erase anyone else’s trace here.”

                   Michael smirked, the same idea lighting up his eyes. He pulled Alex’s body against his, and cupped Alex’s jaw. His lips hovering over Alex’s, he said, “It’ll take all day. Maybe all week. Just us, sweating and naked and on every surface in the house.”

                   Alex moaned when Michael bent his head down to bite his neck. He pushed a hand through Michael’s curls and curved his body into his.

                   “Anything to ease your mind, baby.”

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  • pastelwitchling
    01.12.2021 - 1 day ago

    Hi, was just wondering if you could write a Malex fic where Alex is suffering from Phantom limb syndrome and Michael is helping him with it

                   Michael woke in the middle of the night to Alex shivering against him, his body drenched in a cold sweat. His immediate thought as he sat up, gently waking Alex with him, was fever.

                   Alex’s fevers were so rare and short-lived, but they got pretty bad when they did come. It didn’t help that Alex was naked from their night together, and the blanket they had around their hips was as thick as paper.

                   “Wake up, baby,” Michael murmured into Alex’s hair, trying not to worry about how damp it was already. “Come on, we’re taking you to Valenti.”

                   “N-No, Guerin,” Alex managed through grit teeth, turning his face into Michael’s shoulder and clutching his waist painfully tight. “’M not sick, I . . . my – my leg.”

                   “Your leg?” Michael threw back the blanket, half-expecting to find an infection had spread from Alex’s stump, but . . . it looked fine. Nothing seemed to be wrong with it, and yet Alex shivered and ached like the bullet was still in his bone.

                   Then he remembered. Something he’d studied back when he’d first caught wind from Maria that Alex had lost his leg, something he’d read in his secretly hopeful desire to be prepared . . . just in case.

                   “Okay,” Michael helped him sit up against him, shushing him softly and raking his hair back off his brow. “Look, you’ve got some phantom limb pain, I’m going to get up – just to get you your medication,” he added quickly when Alex started to whimper, clutching his arm tighter.

                   “No,” Alex said, eyes still shut. “I’ll – I’ll get it, I can get it.”

                   Michael winced. Alex was half asleep and clearly had forgotten that he didn’t have a leg to stand on right now to get much of anything.

                   “Okay, Alex,” he murmured against his ear. “I won’t leave you, I’m right here, okay?” he reached down and started massaging Alex’s right thigh, murmuring how much he loved Alex, how he wouldn’t leave him for a second.

                   Alex hissed as Michael rubbed his thigh, and slowly, Alex’s pills came floating in from the bathroom. Michael reached out for them with his free hand, grabbed a bottle of water off the nightstand, and held them out for Alex.

                   Alex’s eyes were shut, his face turned into Michael’s shoulder. Michael eased him into loosening up by dragging his lips along his forehead, his cheek, down to his jaw.

                   Eventually, Alex could breathe deeply enough to take his medication. Michael pressed a kiss to each of his eyes as the pain slowly eased away, a kiss to his nose as he tried to calm his heartbeat. He kept massaging his hip, his thigh, his knee, kissing his ear, his jaw, his neck.

                   When the pain finally ceased completely, and Alex’s breathing was deep against Michael’s collarbone, his body warm from the extra blanket Michael had added and Michael’s arms around him, Alex stirred in his hold.

                   “I’m sorry,” he murmured, shivering. Michael hugged him tighter.

                   “I’m not,” he said. “I’m glad I was here to protect you.”

                   Alex’s lower lip trembled, and he did something that was even rarer than one of his fevers. He cried, covering his eyes with a hand.

                   “I’m so tired,” he breathed. “I don’t want to be broken anymore.”

                   Michael kissed his temple hard. Sometimes, when Alex was too tired to realize what he was saying, he woke up the next morning embarrassed and remorseful. He hated it when people found out about his deepest weaknesses and fears, the ones he wouldn’t even admit to himself.

                   “You’re perfect,” Michael whispered fiercely to him. “You’re beautiful and perfect.”

                   Alex let Michael pull him down onto the bed, wrapping him tightly in his arms, his back to Michael’s chest.

                   “I love you,” Michael whispered against the nape of his neck, even after he slept. “I love you so much.”

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  • pastelwitchling
    30.11.2021 - 2 days ago

    Hi darling, hope this doesn’t count as fics fix 😅. If you want to write about their first meeting, before the guitar stolen episode and of course the cosmic bond that immediately pushed Michael to Alex. 😍

                   Like most other people in high school, Michael had no idea what to think of the emo kid who wore black eyeshadow and a silver skull ring. He’d seen him walk by in the hallway, heard him answer the occasional question in class – quickly realized that Alex, like him, was much smarter than people thought to expect – and saw him around Max’s crush, Liz Ortecho, at school.

                   And still, there’d always been a strange pull that made Michael want to turn and look whenever Alex walked by. He told himself he didn’t care, told himself he was just curious, but that didn’t stop his eyes from jumping to Alex’s face when he gave one of his rare and genuinely happy laughs. It didn’t stop him from taking note of the fact that Alex smelled like vanilla and that the scent was both unexpected and surprisingly pleasant. It didn’t stop him from looking over at Alex in the cafeteria to see what the strange emo kid was doing.

                   “Stop staring,” Isobel nudged his side with her elbow at one point. “DeLuca will notice.”

                   Heat rushed up Michael’s neck and cheeks, and he suddenly felt embarrassed. Alex, he now saw, was sitting next to Maria and Rosa. Isobel must’ve thought he was staring at one of the girls. “R-Right,” he said. “DeLuca.”

                   He had no idea why he felt a strange attachment to Alex, like he might’ve understood a secret part of Michael that no one else did, but he told himself it was just curiosity. It was curiosity that made his eyes rake Alex’s body without even knowing he was doing it. Curiosity that had him imagining Alex walking up to him, time and time again, and starting up a conversation. Curiosity that had him readying to fight whenever Valenti shot some snark comment at Alex in the hallways when he was without Liz.

                   One day, Alex had bumped shoulders with Michael and gave him a rushed apology as he passed, and Michael thought about it for the rest of the week. But that was normal, right?

                   One thing he was sure wasn’t normal, and one thing he couldn’t account for, was why, walking into the music room one time after class, he found himself standing by the open door, staring openly at Alex who had his back to him as he played the keyboard.

                   It was a song he’d never heard, a song he somehow knew Alex had written himself, but it was his voice that had Michael frozen to the spot, jaw hanging open. He’d heard Alex’s laugh, as melodic as one of the old-timey singers opening an animated Disney film, and he’d heard him speak before. Every time, his clear and strong voice demanded attention, even when it was soft and warm.

                   But when he sang . . . when he sang, it had goosebumps rising along Michael’s arms and legs. It made his heart beat heavily and urge him closer, his shred of rationality the only thing keeping him from exposing himself. It made something warm settle in his gut and suddenly, he found himself wondering what Alex’s voice sounded like, breathy and low, right against his ear.

                   The music stopped, and Alex sighed. As he gathered his music sheets, his back still turned to Michael, he asked, “You staring for a reason, Guerin?”

                   Michael swallowed, blinking, trying to break himself from his reverie. He briefly registered that this was the first time Alex had said his name and that it didn’t sound like it always did; just a name that meant nothing, given to him by people that couldn’t have cared less about him. It sounded like his. It sounded like something Alex knew him by, which made it . . . different.

                   “I – I wasn’t staring,” he shook his head, forcing himself through his haze of thoughts and trying to look away from Alex’s piercing eyes. For an emo kid who most presumed to be shy, no one ever seemed to note that Alex was very steady when he spoke, never breaking eye contact. Then again, Michael remembered that his father was military and heard he was very strict.

                   “You –,” he tried again, “I like your voice.”

                   “Thanks?” Alex said slowly, brows furrowed like he was waiting for the punchline.

                   Michael looked down, drawing on the floor with the tip of his sneaker. “I didn’t know you sang.”

                   “Oh,” he said, and returned to fixing his music sheet. “It’s just a hobby.”

                   Michael hesitated, then took a few steps towards him. “You wrote that song yourself?”

                   “Yeah, look,” he said, impatient. “Whatever stupid joke you want to make, can you please just make it? I have class soon.”

                   Michael thought of the rumors he’d heard circling Alex, the reason stupid jocks made kissing noises at him and the reason girls giggled and whispered whenever they passed him by. He considered mentioning it, reassuring Alex that he didn’t care whether they were true or not, but he didn’t. It just didn’t seem like the time.

                   He felt like anything he said could be interpreted poorly and he would make Alex hate him for good. If he was too nice, Alex would think he was coming onto him or something just because of the rumors. The only way not to push Alex further away, he realized, was to pretend he didn’t care.

                   He put his hands in his pockets. “Relax, Manes. I usually come in here to use the guitar, I didn’t think it’d be occupied.”

                   “Well,” Alex stood, shouldering his backpack. “I left mine in here, so don’t touch it.”

                   Michael’s smirk tightened and something in his chest ached. “Don’t want my greasy fingers on anything?”

                   He, after all, had the fair share of rumors circling him, the words “Poor Michael Guerin” having more than one infuriating and demeaning meaning to them.

                   Alex merely stood and considered Michael a moment. Then he smiled and shook his head, and Michael took the chance to swallow the lump in his throat.

                   Then Alex said, “My music is the one breather I get, Guerin. The only one. I don’t let anyone touch it, and I definitely don’t let anyone listen to my songs, but you’re eerily quiet when you want to be.”

                   A smile tugged at the corner of Michael’s lips before he could help it. Alex was making it very clear that he didn’t care one way or the other about what little money Michael had. Rich or not, he shut himself from the entire world. No one ever bothered to force themselves in past his walls, Michael realized.

                   Will you? Alex seemed to be daring him.

                   He cleared his throat. “I thought you said music was just a hobby.”

                   Alex bit his lower lip and came up to Michael. “And you said you weren’t staring,” he said, his lips a breath from Michael’s. Michael could smell the vanilla so closely now that it made his head spin. Before his body could think to lean in those few extra inches for him, Alex pulled away.

                   “Guess we both lied,” he said, and left Michael alone in the music room.

                   Michael stood there for a long time, and when he tried to take a step forward, he stumbled. Swallowing, Michael searched for what he knew was Alex’s guitar. He couldn’t follow Alex, but what if Alex came to him?

                   Not that it matters, he told himself. This wasn’t just to get Alex talking to him again, or to understand what it was that had passed between them. Michael just wanted to play some music.

                   And if it happened to bring Alex right up to him again, if it happened to get them that close, if it soothed some of the ache of being apart from the youngest Manes man that Michael was starting to realize was a thing with him, then so be it.

    This was so much fun to do.

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  • pastelwitchling
    29.11.2021 - 3 days ago

    Would you be willing to do a malex story where Michael mentions spending like Christmas with his family and so Alex assumes he means Max and Isobel and accepts that he's going to spend the holiday alone but Michael actually meant Alex and he makes sure that Alex knows he's family. Thank you in advance!

                   Michael walked into Alex’s living room to see him setting up the seven-foot tall Christmas tree. He leaned against the doorway, listening with a smile as Alex softly sang “River” by Joni Mitchell while he worked.

                   “You planning on staring at me all night?”

                   “I don’t see why not,” he shrugged, smirking. “You love it when I watch you.”

                   Alex huffed a laugh and smiled over his shoulder at him. “I love it better when you’re actually touching me.”

                   Michael bit his lower lip to keep his grin from widening, and saddled up to his boyfriend. “Well,” he groaned, “if you insist. But only because you begged.”

                   Alex laughed fully at that as Michael wrapped his arms around him from behind and hooked his chin over his shoulder. He closed his eyes and absorbed the beautiful sound, Alex’s warmth, Alex’s voice.

                   “I love you so much,” he breathed into Alex’s sweater before he could help it, and at the blush rising up Alex’s neck and cheeks, he felt the urge to whisper it again into his skin.

                   Instead, and trying to maintain some semblance of self-control, he looked up at the tree. “Started decorating without me?”

                   “Oh,” Alex chuckled quietly. It sounded weaker. “Y-Yeah, I don’t mind. Anyway, did you have dinner yet?”

                   As they ate together, Michael glanced across the table at Alex who was picking at his rice and stew.

                   “You okay?”

                   Alex looked up innocently and blinked. “Mm hm.”

                   He was either lying, or so accustomed to being alone in his misery that being okay even when he wasn’t was just something he was used to.

                    Michael tried to think through everything that had happened in the past few days, everything that he might’ve said or done to upset Alex at all. Alex, he realized, had turned remarkably quiet last night after they’d talked about their plans for Christmas.

                   Alex had said he was finally going to be able to decorate for once, since work with the Air Force was finished. Michael had only said he’d wanted nothing more for Christmas than to celebrate it with his family. He’d hoped Alex would be happy to hear it, eager even, but he’d just looked a little startled, then a whole lot resigned. He’d nodded before he hugged Michael closer to him on the couch and they were lost in whatever Christmas movie they’d put on.

                   Was that the problem? Alex felt like he had to spend the holidays with Michael? Had he been planning on spending it with his brothers? Was he even going to stay in town?

                   Michael swallowed. He wanted to spend Christmas with Alex. It was all he’d had to look forward to after all the business with Jones had ended. Would he not get to?

                   He came around the table, and sat close enough to Alex to bracket him between him his legs. Alex smiled into his spoon, amused. “Yes?”

                   Michael gripped his chin and turned his head, kissing his lips slowly, and tasting the salt of the stew on his tongue. Alex whimpered, tilting his head to deepen the kiss.

                   When they pulled back, Michael took the few seconds of Alex’s haze to admire his long lashes curled against rosy cheeks, the absolute pleasure in his expression. He couldn’t help himself. He leaned in and kissed his cheek, and lingered there, breathing in the warmth of him.

                   “You know you can tell me anything, right?” he whispered against his jaw.

                   “I know,” Alex murmured. It didn’t ease his exhaustion. “I’m fine. Really.”

                   “You’re always fine,” Michael told him. “Even when you’re not fine. I don’t want to be someone you learn to be okay around, Alex.”

                   Alex searched his face, considering. Finally he looked down, shy in a way Michael had never seen of him before. “It’s stupid, you’ll – you’ll get annoyed with me.”

                   Michael tried not to show how much that one sentence hurt. He blamed himself for Alex being afraid to be honest around him, blamed his past taunts and betrayals. No wonder Alex didn’t think Michael would respond kindly.

                   He tried to tell Alex that he had only ever been afraid of permanently losing him, only afraid of getting hurt. In the end, he could make no other response but to lift Alex’s hand to his lips and kiss his fingers.

                   Alex sighed shakily, and took his hand away, rubbing them together. Like he was worried Michael had been about to let go of him anyway.

                   “I . . .,” he shook his head, and huffed, frustrated. “Okay, I guess I just thought that . . . that you and I were going to spend Christmas together.”


                   “But I – I swear,” he said quickly at the look on Michael’s face, blushing furiously, “I’m used to spending the holidays alone, you know? I really, really don’t mind, it’s just because I got, like, double of everything, but – but hey, we could totally use that stuff on New Year’s, everybody’s still way in the Christmas spirit by that time, so it doesn’t bother me, but you asked, and I wasn’t even going to tell you! I just – it’s been weighing on me since yesterday, and I – I feel kind of stupid because I just expected us to spend Christmas together, but I completely get you wanting to –”

                   Michael shut him up by crashing their mouths together, pushing Alex back until his hips hit the couch in the living room. When Michael pulled back, he was panting. “Sorry,” he managed. “I just wanted you to draw breath.”

                   Alex inhaled, grabbing fistfuls of Michael’s jacket and keeping him close. Like he would ever go anywhere.

                   “You kissed me,” he said, worried. “Y-You wouldn’t be annoyed if you kissed me. Right?”

                   Michael huffed a chuckle. “I’d kiss you no matter what.” He shook his head. “But I don’t get it, why aren’t we spending Christmas together?”

                   Now it was Alex’s turn to look confused. “You . . . said so. Yesterday? You said you wanted to spend Christmas with your family.”

                   “Right,” Michael said, “still not catching on. My family, which means –”

                   “Max and Isobel,” Alex nodded. “I know.”

                   “What’re you talking about?” Michael chuckled, brows furrowed. “You know you’re my family, too.”

                   Alex looked legitimately startled. “I – I am?”

                   Now, Michael thought. Now he was hurt. He thought back to Caulfield, when Alex had first saved him by telling him he was his family. And the next day . . . Michael had chosen someone else. He’d made his thoughts about Alex and their relationship painfully clear. It didn’t matter if it was true or not. His reaction to Alex’s confession was seared into both of their memories.

                   Michael’s shoulders fell. “Oh my god . . . I’m – I’m so sorry, Private.”

                   “Guerin?” Alex reached out and took his arm, concern etched on his face. He smiled like this was okay, like any of it could’ve been okay. “It’s okay –”

                   “It’s not okay,” he said, pulling Alex in against him. “You’ve always been my family. I should’ve told you. I should’ve told you every day.”

                   “Okay,” Alex whispered, hugging him back just as tightly. “I know that now, just . . . don’t get upset.”

                   Michael buried his face in the crook of Alex’s neck, breathing him in. They stood there for a long few minutes, just hugging each other.

                   Then Alex asked lightly, “So we’re definitely celebrating Christmas together then, right?”

                   Michael huffed a throaty laugh, and squeezed Alex until he was laughing, too. “Damn straight,” he said. “You didn’t think that mistletoe I hung over your bed was for aesthetic, did you?”

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  • pastelwitchling
    21.11.2021 - 1 week ago

    RIN RIN YOU KNOW THE SCENE IN THE NOTEBOOK WHERE THEY KISS IN THE RAIN? What about a one shot of that but it’s Malex? But Alex isn’t engaged to another man?

    - @manescosmic

    Michael checked his phone again. No new messages or calls.

    It was coming down heavy now, and Alex had yet to make an appearance. Michael paced the length of his airstream, since they’d agreed Alex would spend the night, but now he was wondering if maybe it would’ve been kinder to bring Alex back to his own house since there was less risk of it getting toppled over in the storm.

    But what if Alex was already on his way? What if Michael turned five minutes into an hour because he had Alex take detour after detour. Not that it mattered anyway since Alex wasn’t picking up his calls, and it was torturing him to wonder why. His body was vibrating. The last time Alex ignored his calls was because he’d lost sight of everything but his work on the Lockhart Machine and that insanity nearly got him killed.

    “Whoa,” he murmured to himself, taking a seat at the edge of his bed, his foot tapping nervously on the floor. “Calm down.” There were a million possibilities for Alex being late, a million reasons that had nothing to do with death or injury.

    Yeah, this wasn’t working. Michael had had enough waiting. Had Eduardo Ramos given him a less than subtle threat about coming back to their headquarters for any reason the last time he’d broken in? Absolutely. But this was Alex. Ramos always seemed to make exceptions for Alex.

    Michael grabbed his keys and stormed out of his airstream, not caring about getting soaked, and opened his truck door just as a pair of headlights made their appearance by the junkyard gate. Michael’s shoulders slumped, and he ran a hand through his curls, pushing them back.

    He’d had no idea how hard his heart had been hammering until it calmed and his chest pinched. He breathed shakily.

    Alex stepped out of his car, brows furrowed and expression concerned. At the sight of Michael, he’d left his umbrella behind.

    “I’m so sorry,” he said at once.

    “You can’t do that, Alex,” Michael told him, shaking his head. “You can’t scare me like that, not after the Lockhart Machine –”

    “I know, I know,” Alex said, meeting him halfway and letting Michael pull him into a crushing hug. He spoke into Michael’s neck to be heard over the rain. “I’m sorry, as soon as I realized that my phone died, I tried to get back as quick as I could, I didn’t want you to freak out. I’m sorry, Guerin.”

    Michael wished he could say it was okay, that he didn’t really mind, but he did. He was so sick of not knowing whether or not Alex was safe. It felt like he’d spent every day since that moment in the toolshed not knowing, and it was torture.

    In the end, he could only shake his head and hold Alex tighter. He didn’t care that he was getting soaked, all he cared about was touching as much of Alex as he could, reassuring himself that his airman was alive and safe.

    It was crazy to him, and so, sostupid, but he’d missed him. He’d only been away from Alex a few hours, but he missedhim enough that it had kept him from breathing easy. It was just them in that storm, Michael’s breaths loud and labored against the crook of Alex’s neck, Alex whispering reassurances and apologies into his ear.

    “I love you so much,” Alex whispered into his ear, and Michael whimpered before he could help it. “I love you. Breathe, baby, I’m okay.”

    Michael loved him. He loved how well he understood him. Since that day he’d pulled Alex off the ledge, Alex had come out battered and bruised, but as strong as always a few days later. It was Michael who couldn’t get the image of him on that ledge out of his head. Every time he closed his eyes, he imagined a life without Alex, and it threatened to kill him.

    “Kiss me,” he pleaded against Alex’s neck. “Please, kiss –”

    Michael’s words cut off with a gasp as Alex tilted his chin back enough to slot their mouths together. Michael groaned, tilting his head to deepen the kiss, grabbing onto Alex’s face tightly, refusing to let him move so much as an inch away.

    Despite the heavy rain, Michael’s skin burned. He wrapped his arms around Alex’s body to keep the cold away, slipping a hand beneath his shirt, and Alex moaned at the warmth. Michael was happy to swallow it.

    “Guerin –” he tried, and Michael crashed their mouths together again.

    He opened and closed his mouth against Alex’s again and again, opening his mouth wider every time and tasting Alex’s tongue. Michael reached one hand into Alex’s wet hair, tugging at the roots and the other hand down to Alex’s thigh, pulling it up to his waist.

    Alex winced and was forced to pull away, burying his face in Michael’s shoulder. Michael too late realized that he was pulling on Alex’s one good leg, forcing him to stand on his prosthetic in the damp earth.

    “I’m sorry,” he breathed against Alex’s lips. “I’m sorry, baby.”

    “Don’t stop,” Alex pleaded, hugging Michael’s neck. “I want you to keep kissing me.”

    Michael growled, sliding Alex’s shirt up to his chest and dragging his hands down Alex’s stomach. “Come on,” he breathed, pulling Alex’s shirt back down, though he knew it would do little to warm him since he was already soaked. “Inside. I can’t let my baby get sick.”

    “I don’t care,” Alex murmured, pulling Michael in again. He managed a brush of their lips that had Michael growling, but Michael pulled away, using his powers to pick Alex up and wrapping his legs around his own waist.

    Alex gasped and bucked his hips into Michael’s, making him groan.

    “I got you, Private,” Michael told him, their brows pressed together. “Just hold on tight to me.”

    Alex could only nod, wrapping his arms around Michael’s shoulders in complete trust as Michael took him inside to burn the fear still clinging to his heart with every touch.

    Quick note, guys! If I ever agreed to do a prompt in a post or through messages, I have most likely forgotten about it by now. So just... remind me. Or better yet, if I ever agree to do a prompt or say I’m going to do one and you would like to see my fic for it, please just send the prompt in to my inbox so that I remember.

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  • pastelwitchling
    17.11.2021 - 2 weeks ago

    I was wondering are you still going to write that story of Michael realizing how bad his friends and we'll family too treats Alex and confronts them. I had posted about it last week and you said you'd be doing

    by @feliciahawley2002​

    Michael woke up to Alex’s singing. He smiled into his pillow, and listened to the melody drifting throughout the house, taking a second to soak in his reality.

    Alex, his boyfriend, his everything, was somewhere inside the house that Michael had taken to spending all of his time in. Because Alex was here, and wherever Alex was, Michael was determined to be.

    When he finally managed to pull himself out of bed, motivated only by the desire to fall back to sleep against Alex again, he expected to find his beautiful airman in the kitchen, singing over the coffee machine as it refilled what was sure to be his second cup, some romance paperback on the counter.

    His smile dimmed, however, when he found Alex in the living room instead, in front of his computer, singing leisurely and typing rapidly at something that looked an awful lot like coordinates and coding.

    He slumped against the doorframe. He’d slipped on some sweats, but forwent the shirt and was paying for it now as the cold of the wall seeped into his bare arm.

    “Don’t tell me.”

    Without looking at him, Alex smirked. “Morning, beautiful.”

    Michael blushed and looked away, scratching the back of his neck. “How would you know I’m beautiful if your eyes are on the screen?”

    Alex chuckled. “You’re always beautiful. Besides, if I actually look at you, I’m going to throw this computer out the window and kiss the hell out of you, and I actually do need to finish this –”

    Alex’s words cut off as Michael closed the distance between them, tossing his computer onto the armchair and taking its place on Alex’s lap, his body stretched out eagerly.

    “Kiss me,” he said at once, “take me, freaking bite me, make good on your threats, Private.”

    Alex laughed, his hand falling to Michael’s chest, his other still holding his coffee cup at a safe distance to protect Michael from getting scorched.

    “Easy cowboy,” Alex murmured, and bit his lower lip. He leaned down quickly and pressed a chaste kiss to Michael’s lips which Michael made deeper by sticking a hand in his hair and tugging gently at the roots and keeping them close together.

    Alex pulled away with a moan, his brow pressed to Michael’s. “You’re going to kill me.”

    Michael grinned and tilted his chin up, managing just another brief brush of their lips before Alex was pulling away and taking a sip of his coffee.

    “Are you not going to let me work?”

    His tone was colored in laughter as he reached for his computer, but leaning so closely to him now, Michael noticed the pinch of his brows like he had a permanent throbbing in his temples. He noticed the dark circles under his eyes, and the slight wince he made when he settled back on the couch, like his leg hurt him.

    Michael grumbled incoherently as he shoved the laptop aside like an angry cat would. Alex tried to put it close enough to work again, and again, Michael pushed it away. Alex laughed, but it was cut off by a hiss as he moved on his leg too quickly. Michael sat up immediately, terrified of putting more pressure on Alex’s lap.

    Alex shook his head, jaw clenched. “No, I’m fine, really, I’m fine.”

    Michael glared at the laptop, blaming it for the pain it was putting Alex through. He was done humoring Alex, and instead of competing for a spot on his lap, took the computer out of his hand and narrowed his eyes at the screen.

    “Doesn’t Deep Sky give you days off?” Michael demanded. “I thought Ramos wanted you to rest after the whole thing with Jones.”

    “He did,” Alex nodded, rubbing his thigh. “This isn’t for him.”

    “Then who . . .,” Michael trailed off, and narrowed his eyes. “Wait a minute,” he put the computer down. “These are notes on Max’s DNA signature.” He shook his head, opening the next tab. “And these are records of Patricia DeLuca. Did Liz and Maria ask you to do this?”

    Alex sighed, rubbing the weariness from his eyes. “Liz wanted me to do some cross-referencing, and Maria and Isobel wanted to look through records that might tell them more about Louise and their family history.”

    “They couldn’t look into this themselves?” Michael said. “Liz couldn’t have waited?”

    Alex raised his brow at Michael’s tone. Michael only now realized his voice was rising to a yell.

    “Guerin, she has waited,” he said. “She wanted me to do this weeks ago, but I’ve been too busy with Deep Sky –”

    “So she waited until you finally had a day off so she could make you do this?”

    “Whoa, whoa,” Alex said gently with his hands hovering over Michael’s shoulders. “Guerin, she’s not making me do anything. None of them are, I said I would help. I can’t just back out.”

    Michael tried to hear what Alex was saying, but he couldn’t help but think of Isobel who’d been excited because she had a camping trip with Anatsa planned today, and Maria who’d been eager to get away to a cottage with Gregory, and Liz who just had to know everything as soon as she could, no matter who it was bothering.

    All of Maria and Liz’s speeches about seizing the day and taking time for yourself only seemed to matter for them. They hadn’t seemed to consider what it would cost Alex at all.

    It was always like this, he realized. If anybody needed anything done, they went to Alex. He wondered how many of them cared enough to ask if he had anything he was excited for on his one day off when they could afford several.

    The longer Michael thought about it, the more he feared that this was his fault, too. That he’d led Alex to believe that if he didn’t work himself to the bone for someone, then he didn’t deserve them. He’d already sacrificed his heart and at times his sanity for Michael. How many other parts of him would he have to give up to keep the others?

    “Don’t do it,” he said quietly. “You don’t need to do this.”

    “Guerin,” Alex tried, reaching for his computer again. Michael tossed it aside, and let Alex’s cup float out of hand.

    Before Alex could ask what he was doing, Michael leaned in, pushing him back until he was lying on the couch, Michael hovering over him and between his legs.

    “I wanna screw you,” he said. “I want us to stay on this couch, all day, naked and wet, and I don’t wanna stop kissing you.” He caught Alex’s gasp as he slotted their mouths together and kissed him deeply. When he pulled back, Alex’s eyes were half-lidded and dazed. “And then I wanna make you breakfast and lunch, and I want to eat dessert off your body.”

    “I – I –”

    “You want that?” Michael ran a hand down Alex’s chest, his stomach, his palm feeling every bulge of his muscles and abs and hip bone. His mouth watered. “You want me to cover your chest in chocolate and lick you clean?”

    Alex bit his lower lip, his pupils blown wide, his work forgotten. He nodded, tilting his chin up for a kiss which Michael happily gave him. He would deal with the others later. Right now, he wasn’t planning on leaving Alex’s side for a second.

      Michael had his hands stuffed in his jacket pockets. He’d told Alex that he was stopping by the Crashdown to pick up their dinner, and he absolutely was on his way there . . . he just had to make a small stop first.

    As he’d hoped and expected, Liz, Maria, and Isobel were all gathered around the bar of the Wild Pony, laughing about something over drinks. He smirked bitterly.

    “Well,” he put an elbow on the table, “you all look well-rested.”

    “Michael, hey!” Maria pulled out a chair. “Grab a glass!”

    “Can’t,” Michael smiled tightly. “Got Alex at home.”

    The women cooed, echoing Michael’s words back to him. Michael clenched his jaw.

    “Why isn’t he here?” Isobel demanded.

    “Yeah, call him,” Liz said. “I need to ask him about the DNA samples anyway.”

    Michael’s eye twitched. “He can’t. He can’t come, he – uh – he fell asleep a few hours ago because he was, you know, so exhausted from work. Not that any of you care.”

    Their smiles faltered.

    “What’s that supposed to mean?” Maria asked.

    “It means you’re all crappy friends,” Michael said. “Sorry, I thought I was being pretty clear.”

    “Michael,” Isobel raised a brow. “You want to watch what you’re –”

    “No, not really,” he smirked tightly. “Alex hasn’t had a single second to breathe since Jones surfaced. Hell, since we surfaced. You can only remember him when you need him, and you know what? I can’t remember the last time he could depend on any of you for anything.” His sniffed. “I can’t remember the last time he could really depend on me. He deserves better than being used.”

    “Michael,” Maria huffed a faint chuckle, her brows furrowed. “We don’t use Alex.”

    She must’ve heard the same guilt in her voice that Michael heard.

    “Really?” Michael smirked. “Then where is he?”

    Nobody had an answer to that.

    Michael hit his fist on the table. “He’s supposed to be your friend. You hurt him again, and I’ll make sure to get him as far away from Roswell as possible. Because guess what? Of all of us here, I’m the one he can’t live without.”

    With their shocked and guilty faces, and Michael was sure more than a little fear at the idea of losing Alex, he turned to leave.

    His airman was waiting for him at home.

    This may have been a little cathartic for me 😂

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  • pastelwitchling
    16.11.2021 - 2 weeks ago

    Hi! Would you be willing to write some malex about Alex being touch-starved?

    Alex wasn’t focusing.

    He knew that decoding the Lockhart Machine’s latest transmissions and understanding exactly what Jones had called to earth was important, but Michael was standing only a few feet away, the scent of rain swallowing the bunker without mercy, and his flannel was open more than halfway, revealing his deliciously hairy chest and Alex kept having to tug on the collar of his shirt to swallow and he couldn’t focus.

    Michael tossed the turquoise he’d been working with aside with a frustrated sigh. “That’s not gonna be any help today.”

    “We have time,” Alex said, unwilling to look at him. Apparently it didn’t matter, because Michael was soon crowding his space to get a closer look at the machine.

    “You got anything out of this?”

    Alex pressed his lips together, trying to edge away from Michael’s warmth and the feel of his strong, tone body against his own. He shut his eyes.

    Oh,he almost said, you mean this stupid machine that’s kept us so busy that we haven’t had a second to ourselves?

    “Nope,” he sighed instead, and pressed the heel of his palm to his eye.

    “You okay?”

    “Mm hm.”

    Michael suddenly took Alex’s chin in his hand, his thumb brushing softly along his jaw. It sent a shock of electricity down Alex’s body embarrassingly quickly. “You look beat,” he said. “Maybe you should go home, get some rest.”

    “No,” Alex said quickly. “No, I’m staying here.”

    Michael was still studying his face, his hand reaching up to cup his cheek. “You sure?”

    Alex’s eyes fell to Michael’s lips and he was starting to nod, Michael’s name a breath away, when Michael’s phone rang suddenly from across the bunker, waking Alex from his haze.

    Michael went to answer, seemingly unperturbed. Alex was sure he was going to kill someone.

    When Michael finished his talk with Isobel, he came back to crowd into Alex, studying the coding he had managed to crack. He looked at the report with furrowed brows. “I thought you said you couldn’t get anything?”

    Alex tilted his head. “Anything else.”

    An awed smile pulled at Michael’s lips that made pride spread throughout Alex’s chest. “You’re amazing.”

    Alex was touched, really he was, but his eyes kept inadvertently drifting to Michael’s chest and his strong arms, and he imagined them pinning him down as Michael thrusted into him –

    He cleared his throat. “Yeah – uh – you know, I am actually pretty tired.” He stood, keeping away from Michael before he caught a second more of his warmth and pounced on him.

    “O-Oh,” Michael looked disappointed. Alex imagined he never actually wanted him to leave. It made him want to stay here at his side for every possible second, but if he actually did . . .

    “Yeah,” he turned away from Michael’s puppy dog eyes on the pretense of grabbing his jacket. “I – I’ll talk to you tomorrow, okay?”

    “Tomorrow?”Michael blinked. “W-We’re not talking tonight?”

    “No, I think I’m just going to bed,” he said, hurrying for the ladder.

    “Okay . . .”

    Alex hesitated at his tone. He turned back to where Michael was picking at the table, dejected, and he closed the distance between them, unable to take that look on his face. He took Michael’s face in his hands and gave him a long, chaste kiss. It had been a mistake.

    He really had been without Michael’s hands on him for way too long, because when Michael gripped his waist and pulled him in against him, the feel of Michael’s body pressed to his own, Alex had to pull away almost pained.

    “Stay,” Michael urged Alex into the space between their mouths. “Just a little longer, we can – we can finish the work here –”

    “I can’t, Guerin,” Alex breathed, pushing away. “I can’t –”

    “Come on,” Michael urged, sliding his hands around Alex’s waist and clawing down his back. “Stay, baby. You know I can’t get anything done without you.”

    Alex shook his head, his jaw clenched. “No, I can’t, I can’t, I can’t.” He stepped out of Michael’s hold, his reach, and shook his head. His words came out in a rush. “I can’t, okay? I’m so freaking touch-deprived that if I stay here, I’m going to tear your clothes off and lick every damn inch of you, so no, you need to work and I need to go take a long, long cold shower. I’ll talk to you tomorrow.”

    He just reached the ladder when the bunker door slammed shut. Michael grabbed Alex’s arm and turned him around, pushing him against the wall. Despite his tight grip and the roughness of his touch, his smile was wide and his eyes half-lidded.

    “So that’s why you’ve been so quiet lately?” he crowded him into the wall, slipping a hand up his shirt as he kept him pinned with the other. “My baby needs sex, huh?”

    Alex probably should’ve had a little more dignity, should’ve pulled away and made some crap excuse about how he was only joking and he didn’t actually need Michael’s hands on him.

    Screw that. Michael was gorgeous and his hands were magic on his body and Alex had wanted this for days.

    “Need it dirty?” Michael breathed against the shell of Alex’s ear. “Rough?” His nails clawed down Alex’s ribs and made him gasp. His other hand reached down and lifted Alex’s thigh, pressing their hips together and making Alex moan and instinctively reach out to bunch Michael’s shirt in his hands.

    “You think I don’t need you, too?” Michael demanded before he tugged at Alex’s earlobe with his teeth. “You think I’m not waiting for you to want me?”

    “I always want you,” Alex breathed before he could help it.

    Michael chuckled against his jaw and bucked his hips into Alex. “Baby.”

    Alex tried to speak, to think, but his mind was filled with lust and want. “Take your clothes off,” he pleaded, fumbling with the buttons on Michael’s flannel and getting distracted with Michael’s chest, smoothing his palm over the hairy skin and reveling in Michael’s shaky exhale. “Please, take them off.”

    Michael bit his lip and pulled back just enough to pull his flannel up over his head. Alex’s mouth hung open as he traced his hands down Michael’s torso. Michael keened, his body following Alex’s fingers like he yearned for his touch, too.

    Alex’s fingers hooked around Michael’s belt and tugged, pulling them against each other, his mouth reaching for Michael’s. Michael tugged on Alex’s lower lip with his teeth before he tore Alex’s shirt off and the two moaned with their naked chests together, the feel of one another’s naked skin.

    Alex’s hand reached up the nape of Michael’s neck, into his curls, his other reaching down his naked back and sticking under the waistband of his jeans. He moaned into Michael’s neck as he took his plump cheek in hand, grabbing onto it like his life depended on it.

    “Alex,” Michael grunted, pushing his hips into Alex’s and grabbing Alex’s ass in full and pushing him harder against the wall. He was so hard under his jeans and his slams into Alex’s hips were relentless. The bunker filled with the sounds of their panting and grunts and moans.

    This, Alex thought in a haze of pleasure. This was what he’d wanted. This was what he would always want. The next time, he decided, he would climb onto Michael’s lap before forcing himself to breathe another second without Michael’s hands on him.

    Alex forced himself to let go of Michael’s ass just to yank his belt off. “More,” he begged breathlessly. “I need all of you, Guerin.”

    Michael slotted their mouths together and swallowed Alex’s moans. He pulled back to a line of spit between their mouths, his face flushed and his eyes glazed.

    “Anything you want, Private,” he rasped out. “Anything.” And he pulled Alex down to the floor of the bunker.

    This was so much fun to do.

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  • pastelwitchling
    15.11.2021 - 2 weeks ago

    Hi, idk if you're still doing prompts for malex, but would you be willing to do something where michael is trying to get Alex to be comfortable with receiving compliments and statements of love and actually believing them? In the show it seems whenever Michael makes a statement like that Alex tends to look away like he doesn't understand what's he's done to deserve it and I'd love to see how you interpret that in your writing! If you're able to, thank you in advance!

    Michael had started to really notice it one morning, half-dazed by sleep and the warmth of Alex’s naked body against his in the early chill.

    Before he even opened his eyes, he was moving to lay halfway over Alex’s back and kiss down his spine. “Morning, beautiful,” he murmured against the nape of Alex’s neck before kissing there, too.

    Alex moaned and scrunched his shoulders, hiding a shy smile. Michael, for whatever reason in that moment, wanted to see his smile more than anything. He tilted up his chin and kissed the corner of Alex’s mouth, giving the skin at his jaw a small bite and making Alex gasp.

    “You’re an animal,” he breathed shakily, burying his face in his pillow and Michael slid down his body.

    “And you’re gorgeous,” Michael groaned, pressing another kiss to Alex’s shoulder blade. He couldn’t believe his luck. He couldn’t believe that he got to have Alex like this, that Alex wanted him like this. Nothing, he knew, could ever compare to these moments.

    “Turn over,” he pleaded, tugging on Alex’s waist. “I want to see you.”

    Alex bit his lower lip and did as he was told, a blush spreading across his cheeks as Michael audibly keened at the sight and pushed his legs apart, climbing in between.

    His mouth hung open as he traced a hand up Alex’s thigh, his hip, the trail of hair down his stomach, his chest. His breath when he spoke was labored. “Do you have . . . any idea . . . how perfect you are?”

    Alex closed his eyes and turned his face away from Michael’s gaze. “Don’t,” he whimpered, and it made Michael want to nip at his waist. Alex gasped and bucked his hips.

                   Michael came up to his face and kissed his forehead. “Look at me,” he growled. Alex wouldn’t. Michael took his face in one hand. “Look at me.”

                   Alex slowly opened his eyes, the dark brown turned to bright hazel by the sunlight pouring in through the windows. A smile tugged at Michael’s lips.

                   “Say you’re beautiful,” he said in a gravelly voice.

                   “Guerin,” he squirmed, his hips seeking friction against Michael’s. Michael swallowed, so tempted to give it to him. But he couldn’t stand this. Looking back on every compliment he’d ever given Alex, the way Alex would look down or look away, the way he’d turn the conversation around or shift the praise to somebody else. No more.

                   “Say it,” Michael whispered, slotting his mouth against Alex’s and kissing him just long enough to make him whine. “Say it, or I’m getting up.”

                   Alex reached out instinctively, taking Michael’s hips in his hands and holding on, keeping him close. Little did Alex know that Michael was completely bluffing. As if he would ever be able to move away.

                   “I’m . . .,” Alex shook his head, shutting his eyes as the blush across his cheeks deepened. “I’m . . . beautiful.”

                   “Good boy,” Michael’s grin widened, and he grinded his hips along Alex’s, making him shiver and making his own jaw drop before he pulled away again. “Damn,” he breathed. “Now say you’re perfect.”


                   Michael laughed. “Too hard for you, Captain Manes?”

                   “Please,” he begged, meeting Michael’s gaze with heavy-lidded hungry. “Touch me.”

                   Michael groaned, biting his lower lip so hard he almost drew blood. He grinded his hips down once, and licked up the side of Alex’s neck. “Say you’re perfect,” he breathed into Michael’s ear.

                   Alex’s whimpers started to sound more like desperate cries. “Guerin, please –”

                   “Say it, Private.”

                   “I don’t want to,” Alex huffed, and turned away. Michael faltered, and Alex took the chance to sit up, turning his back to Michael, his shoulders rising and falling with each heavy breath.

                   Michael sat behind him, his fists curling in the bedsheet.

                   “If I was perfect,” Alex said, “I would never have let you get away in the first place. I wouldn’t have wasted so much time. Every time you tell me how – how beautiful or smart or amazing I am –,” he cut off with a flinch, like the words were ridiculous. “I just keep thinking of how badly I screwed everything up and I feel like a fraud, so please, no more empty compliments and – and trying to get me to buy any of it, it just makes me feel worse.”

                   Michael stared, panting. He’d had no idea. Slowly, like he might approach a scared animal, he put a hand on Alex’s shoulder, letting it fall down his arm. He came up behind him, his legs bracketing Alex’s body as he hugged him, hooking his chin over his shoulder.

                   Alex covered Michael’s hands on his stomach with his own. “I’m – I’m sorry,” he shook his head, his eyes shut. “I’m sorry.”

                   Michael waited a moment for Alex to regain his breath before he said, “You’re not the one who screwed everything up.”

                   Alex turned away, already disbelieving. “Guerin –”

                   “I pushed you away,” he said. “I pushed you out every time. When I got scared, you kept coming back for me. You were always there for me, Alex, even when I wouldn’t make it easy to be. When you got scared, I . . . I abandoned you. I wanted easy instead of real. That was never your fault.”

                   Alex scrunched his shoulders, his face hidden. Michael pressed his brow to the back of Alex’s head, breathing him in, his eyes shut.

                   “I’ve done a lot of stuff I regret, Private,” he said, “but letting you think you were anything less than perfect because I was too scared to be with you . . . there’s nothing worse.”

                   Alex turned in his hold at once, crashing their mouths together. Michael tasted salty tears, though that may have been Michael’s own. He didn’t care. Alex murmured apologies against his mouth, but Michael only shook his head, kissing him harder. He wrapped his arms around Alex’s waist, pulling him down and kissing him into the sheets, tilting his head and slotting their mouths together.

                   “I need you to say it,” Michael pleaded the second they pulled apart to breathe. “I need you to know, Alex. I need you to know how perfect you are. How lucky I am. Please say it. Say it for me.”

                   Holding Michael’s gaze, his own pleading, Alex said, “I’m – I’m perfect. I’m perfect, please, just kiss me.”

                   Michael’s wet laugh was cut off as he crashed their mouths together. When he pulled back, he touched Alex’s jaw. “You know how much I love you, don’t you?”

                   Alex smirked, pulling Michael down by his hips this time and not letting him up. “I know,” he said in a raspy voice that sent shivers down Michael’s body. “I am perfect, after all.”

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  • stayextrafrosty
    14.11.2021 - 2 weeks ago
    #malex fanfiction#malex fic#fic request#malex #roswell new mexico fic #michael guerin/alex manes
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  • pastelwitchling
    12.11.2021 - 2 weeks ago

    “You still loved me the whole time I was with Maria?! Why didn’t you tell me?! Baby we could be married by now!”


    Michael looked up from where he’d been making dinner just in time to see Alex storm in and throw his bag onto the stool.

    He set his wooden spoon down, watching him carefully. Alex had days like this. They were what Michael called his “military moments.” It was time for Captain Manes to come out, when incompetence and cruelty had no place and pissed him off more than they normally did.

    Michael wondered if he should’ve been worried or afraid when he’d first really patented the mood, but he’d felt oddly proud and privileged. He doubted anybody else knew about Alex’s military moments, save for maybe his brothers and Air Force team.

    “You gonna tell me?” he greeted.

    “Flint’s an ass,” Alex growled, sat down with a huff, then stood back up to pace. “I just – how? How are we related?”

    “I asked myself the same question,” said Michael. “For most of your family, in fact. Sorry to say though, you and your brothers look too much alike for you to be secretly adopted.” He turned to lean against the counter and grinned. “Except, you know, you’re the pretty one.”

    Alex was unperturbed by the compliment, as he usually was. “I hate this part of it, you know? I hate this part.”

    Michael had been slowly closing the distance between them, his hands folded behind his back in a way that he knew Alex found too cute to ignore.

    He was still smiling as he reached for Alex’s waist, eager to touch him after hours of being apart, but his brows furrowed, confused.

    “What part, Private?”

    Alex hadn’t noticed Michael’s arms held out for him as he shook his head. “The part where someone you love stops loving you, and you have to claw your way back from that. It’s so painful and – and hard and – I’m just sick of it.”

    Michael’s smile faltered. Alex went to sit at the counter and heaved a deep sigh against his palms. Michael had a creeping suspicion he knew what Alex was thinking of, and he opened and closed his mouth on silent sentences, not daring to ask.

    Finally, he managed, “Stops . . . loving you? Like – you mean like –”

    “Yeah,” Alex shrugged his shoulder, like it was no big deal. Or maybe it was because his brows furrowed like he had a headache. “I mean, no offense, okay? Kyle stopped loving me at some point, Maria and Liz, everyone stops loving someone sometime, but I was just really hoping that you were my last battle, you know?”

    Alex sighed, and leaned over the counter. “Are you making dinner?”

    Some of the tension seemed to fade from Alex’s shoulders as he looked over the pot, but Michael felt like his pain had just started.

    “Alex,” he breathed, “is that . . . is that really what you think?”

    “Sorry,” Alex blinked and pointed at the pot. “Is it not dinner?”

    Michael turned Alex’s chair and braced his hands against the counter, caging him in. He was still shaking his head. “You – you think I stopped loving you when I was with Maria?”

    Realization dawned and Alex looked away. “Look, I’m sorry I said anything, okay? Seriously,” he put his hands on Michael’s chest, “it’s not a big deal. I – I had to work harder for it, I know that now. I had to be braver, do more. I couldn’t just expect you to love me because I loved you.”

    “Oh my god,” he whispered. He brushed back Alex’s hair from his temple. “What did I do to you?”

    Alex’s shoulders fell and he smiled tightly. “Guerin, stop being dramatic. I got you back in the end, so –”

    “You never lost me!” he gaped. “Alex, my Alex, I loved you before Maria, during Maria, and after her. She was nothing to me, every damn thing I’d ever done was all to be better for you! Because I – I wanted to be better for you, I wanted to deserve you!”

    Alex’s brows furrowed and he narrowed his eyes, searching for the lie, for the false comfort. But he wouldn’t find it. Michael saw him swallow, any pretense of indifference gone.

    “You – you loved me? Even when you were with her?”

    Michael huffed an incredulous chuckle. Or it might’ve been a cry. “You loved me even when I was with her?!”

    “Are you kidding me?!”

    Michael pulled Alex in, kissing his temple, his ear, his jaw. He felt Alex’s hands on his back, grabbing fistfuls of his flannel shirt, holding him tightly. He was sure his own grip on Alex was bruising.

    “Why didn’t you say anything?” Michael said into his hair before he kissed there, too. “We could’ve been married by now.”

    Alex huffed a laugh, burying his face in the crook of Michael’s neck. Michael’s eyes shut and he pressed his lips to Alex’s shoulder, breathing in his sound, his scent, his warmth.

    “Don’t ever doubt my feelings for you again,” he warned. “Don’t ever think there is anything I would put in front of you. You’re everything, Alex. You’re everything to me.”

    Alex only hugged him tighter, breathing deeply against his neck. A minute passed, then two, then Alex started to pull away. “Okay,” he said, his laugh hoarse. He sniffled. “Okay, I love you and I’m glad you know that, but I really am starving.”

    Michael barked a laugh and kissed his cheek. “So am I.” He kissed Alex’s lips hard. “But I guess we can wait till after dinner.”

    At this, Alex laughed, and Michael knew that was one sound he would never stop loving.

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  • stayextrafrosty
    11.11.2021 - 3 weeks ago
    #malex fanfiction#malex fic#malex #michael guerin/alex manes #michael guerin#alex manes #roswell new mexico fic #roswell new mexico #fic request
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  • pastelwitchling
    10.11.2021 - 3 weeks ago

    I just came up with the most heartbreaking fanfic idea because I like torturing myself. Because of Mondays episode where Michael admits he can control people, what if he made Alex go into the air force by jumping in Alex mind to make him, And he admits it because he didn't want to keep any secrets in their new relationship 😭😭😭

                   Michael stood outside Alex’s front door, rubbing his hands tightly together. His heart hammered in his throat, the porch light doing little to burn away the shadows lingering in Michael’s mind, telling him that this would be the final straw. This would be what broke him and Alex.

                   It was eating away at him the closer he and Alex got to each other. It had been easier to ignore the painful reality when they’d been apart and Michael had been getting news of Alex’s rise in ranks. At the time, the traitorous thought that he’d done Alex a favor whispered in his ear.

                   Look, it had said. Look at how much better off he is without you.

                   And then Alex had lost his leg, and Michael was sure his heart had broken beyond repair. But he’d hidden it well that day, outside his trailer. He’d hidden it then just as he had to hide it now.

                   Let it go, he kept telling himself. What does it matter anymore? It’s over. He’s stronger for what happened.

                   And still, even as he told himself the lie, Michael couldn’t make himself believe it.

                   “It doesn’t matter,” he murmured to no one as he reached for the key he’d been given, then hesitated and raised his fist to knock instead. None of it mattered when Alex opened the door, his smile widening at the sight of Michael.

                   “Hey,” he greeted as Michael pulled him in for a one-armed hug. “Why didn’t you use the key I gave you?”

                   Alex started to pull away, but Michael held him a little longer, burying his face in the crook of Alex’s neck and inhaling him in.

                   “Forgot I had it,” he said. Another lie. It didn’t matter, not when he was engulfed with Alex’s scent, Alex’s warmth. He couldn’t risk losing this. Not ever again.

                   When Alex actually did manage to pull away, his smile was smaller, his brows furrowed. “You okay?”

                   “Yeah,” Michael huffed, rubbing an eye. “Just tired.”

                   “Yeah?” Alex took his face in his hands and caressed his cheekbones with his thumbs, as if trying to take on some of the weight on his shoulders. “At least the day’s over, right?”

                   That’s not how it feels, Michael almost said. It feels like days like these will never be over.

                   However, what he actually did was try for a weary smile and nod. “C’mere.”

                   He pulled Alex in by the waist and gave him a long, deep, slow kiss that had his toes curling in his boots. When they separated, he moved just far enough away that he could keep breathing Alex’s air before he moved in again, cutting off whatever Alex was saying about going inside where it was warm.

                   Michael wrapped his arms around Alex, grabbing fistfuls of his sweater. He loved the sound of their lips parting and coming back together, the taste of Alex’s tongue against his. He wanted to get lost in this feeling forever, of being loved, not just by anyone, but by Alex. His Alex.

                   “Come on,” Alex murmured into the space between their lips, dazed. When Michael tried chasing his mouth again, Alex huffed a deep, throaty laugh that had heat coiling in the pit of Michael’s gut. “Come on, cowboy.”

                   Alex brought them inside and gave Michael one more kiss before gently pushing him onto the couch. It smelled like he had dinner cooking in the kitchen, something for both him and Michael, and Michael’s throat clogged with the thought of Alex thinking of him even after a long day working at Deep Sky.

                   He tugged on Alex’s hand as he sat so that Alex would have to follow, straddling Michael’s hips.

                   Alex was still caressing his face, and Michael hoped he never stopped. “Want me to make it better?” he murmured.

                   Michael exhaled shakily, raising his hands up Alex’s thighs to his hips and leaning down to lick the strip of bare skin just below his sweater. Alex gasped shakily and put a hand in Michael’s curls, tugging at the roots and turning the heat in Michael’s gut to fire.

                   Then Alex suddenly hissed and tilted sideways. Michael caught him, wrapping him in his arms. His eyes were wide, concerned. “D-Did I hurt you?”

                   Alex could only shake his head at first, his fingers digging into his right knee, his jaw clenched so tightly Michael feared he would draw blood.

                   “No,” he finally managed. “No, I’m okay, I’m fine.” His words started shallow and shuddering, but as Michael rubbed his thigh, shushing him softly, his breaths deepened, and he slumped against Michael, head on his shoulder, letting the last of the pain leave him.

                   “Sorry,” he murmured. “I’m sorry, it’s the cold, it’s – it’s been a nightmare on my leg all week.”

                   Michael’s fingers trembled as he kept rubbing Alex’s thigh long after the pain subsided. “I’m sorry,” he muttered, numb as he stared at the pinch of Alex’s brows, like his leg would never really completely stop hurting him.

                   Alex huffed a chuckle and shook his head, pulling Michael’s face to his. His eyes were so fond, so trusting, it made Michael want to cry. “It’s not your fault.”

                   Alex moaned softly as he kissed Michael again, and again, deepening the kiss with every press of his lips. He leaned back on the couch, pulling Michael on top of him, but it was too late. All Michael could think about was the pain in Alex’s leg, the pain that would always be there. All because Michael had been stupid and afraid.

                   He pulled off Alex with a shake of his head, careful of his right knee. “Uh – I’m not really . . . in the mood . . .”

                   Alex blinked, startled, then confused. “O-Oh. Okay?”

                   Alex knew he was lying, if the bulge between Michael’s legs had been any indication. But it was gone now, as was any comfort Michael would’ve had with the idea of touching Alex, no matter how badly he wanted it. He didn’t deserve it.

                   The awkwardness of the moment on the couch followed them to dinner as they sat over their bowls of hot stew. Michael was unable to muster the strength or willpower to talk to Alex about anything or give him anything more than a word’s response.

                   Alex was trying, Michael knew he was, to bring back the lightness they usually had. But even he was struggling as Michael had never, ever not wanted to sleep with him. And he’d definitely never lied about wanting it.

                   “You’re . . .,” Alex started, stopped, then tried again. “You’re happy with me, right?”

                   Michael stopped pushing his food around his plate. Had he really heard that right?


                   “It’s just that,” Alex shook his head. “You’ve been kind of . . . distant lately. I just don’t know if you were expecting something else when we first . . . when . . . I mean, I’ve never really been part of a couple, it’s just been hookups up to this point, so maybe I’m coming on too strong, or –”

                   Michael put his spoon down, staring. “Alex, I really don’t ever want to hear about anybody else you’ve been with. Far as I’m concerned, you’ve always been mine.”

                   Alex’s lips quirked in a small smile before it was gone. He brought his face lower onto his plate and said in a voice so quiet that neither of them should’ve heard. “Then is it my leg?”

                   That. That was what broke Michael.

                   Alex seemed to mistake the long silence for something else because he pursed his lips in that way he usually did when he was trying not to cry. “B-Because I can take stronger medication, I mean I – I hadn’t really been taking it at all lately, so that’s why –”

                   Michael moved out of his chair so fast it almost fell backwards on the tiled floor, crowded between Alex’s legs, and crashed their mouths together.

                   When he pulled back, he was panting like a beast, grinding his hips and his already half-hardened cock into Alex’s. “Feel that? That’s what you do to me. You’re the sexiest person on this or any planet, Private. And you’re all mine. Got it?”

                   Alex bit his lower lip hard, taking tight hold of Michael’s hips, his forehead pressed to Michael’s as he breathed heavily. “Then . . . why? What’s going on with you? Why won’t you tell me? You always tell me.”

                   Michael clenched his jaw so tightly that his nose scrunched. Alex was still touching him. He couldn’t stop touching him, Michael would die.

                   But this had been eating away at him for years, and before he could help it, the words escaped him in a whisper, “Because I’ll lose you.”

                   Alex looked up, frowning. He looked confused, but the first words that left his lips were, “Never.” They were fierce, promising. “Never, Guerin.”

                   Michael swallowed, searching Alex’s eyes and finding nothing but love and protection there. Always love and protection. He took it in for as long as he could before the truth finally came out.

                   “Even if I ruined your life?”

                   Alex blinked, clearly having not expected that. He shook his head. “What do you mean? Guerin,” he tried when Michael pulled away and moved to the other side of the kitchen, not wanting Alex to push him away. “What are you talking about?”

                   Michael had his hands crossed behind his back so Alex couldn’t see him carving into the back of his hand with his nails, forcing the words out.

                   “You know how I found out a long time ago that I could control people into doing things against their will?”

                   Alex nodded, brows furrowed.

                   Michael’s heart threatened to jump out of his chest as he opened his mouth slowly. “W-Well . . . after the whole thing with Rosa . . . I didn’t want you to see me. I was breaking apart with the guilt and the weight of that secret and . . . you kept saying your dad was pushing you to enlist.”

                   Alex’s shoulders slumped. “Oh my god . . .”

                   Michael swallowed and didn’t dare look at Alex again for fear of the anger he knew was coming. He spoke faster. “And the bar fights weren’t doing it and I knew that if you stuck around I’d only push you away for good so I got into your head and made you sign the forms –”

                   “Guerin –”

                   “And I thought – I thought you were doing better out there because you – you were captain before I knew it and you had actual friends that cared about you and if I’d known what was going to happen then I never – I never would’ve –”


                   Michael abruptly cut off, his mouth clamped shut. He didn’t dare look up, didn’t dare face the hatred that was undoubtedly on Alex’s face, the one that matched his appalled voice. Michael had ruined his life. He’d ruined everything.

                   “Look at me.”

                   Michael wouldn’t. Alex came up to him, and gripped his arms so suddenly that he flinched. “Look at me!”

                   Michael was trembling, his eyes burning and filling with tears faster than he knew to stop them. He looked up slowly and saw that Alex looked aghast, his own eyes glassy.

                   “How you been hanging onto this since we were seventeen?” he breathed.

                   Michael’s lower lip trembled. Alex hated him now. It was all over. “I’m so sorry, Alex,” he cried, unable to help himself. “I – I was scared and so stupid and I did – I did so many stupid things, but nothing worse than that. You hated Roswell and you were going to hate me and I was so terrified that you would hate me that I sent you away before you could.”

                   Alex didn’t move for a second, then raised his hands up Michael’s arms to his shoulders, holding fistfuls of his shirt. “Guerin. Guerin.”

                   Alex tried but Michael couldn’t stop heaving, couldn’t stop sobbing, no matter how hard he tried. Alex pressed their foreheads together roughly and held his face in his hands.

                   “You didn’t send me away,” he said steadily. “Okay? You didn’t.”

                   “No, Alex, no,” he sobbed. “I’m not like Isobel, I can force people to do things they would never do, I’m – I’m a monster and I hurt the one person –”

                   “Stop it,” Alex growled, holding him closer. “You didn’t hurt me. Guerin, I was always going to go, I – yes, I was always going to go. Long before I met you, I was going to enlist.”

                   Michael’s breaths came out in shudders and he looked up, frowning, trying to process that information. His eyes were swollen. “W-What?”

                   Alex sighed and let go. He turned away, rubbing his eyes, and Michael, unwilling to be apart from him anymore, followed closely. Alex turned back to face Michael in front of the window, nothing but darkness and the sound of crickets chirping outside.

                   “Ever since my mom left,” he said, “and dad was all I had . . . I thought following in his footsteps would bring him closer to me. Would make him love me when he just didn’t. Even when I wore eyeliner and – and nail polish and let him think I couldn’t care less what he thought . . . even then I was trying to get his attention. I want to pretend I didn’t care whether or not my own dad loved me, Guerin, but I did. Up until the very end, I did. Meeting you stalled my decision, that’s all it did. For all my talk of making music, the one thing I knew I wanted to do was be the airman my father was, and do it better. After he hurt you in – in that toolshed, my mind was made up. I would beat him at his own game, whatever it took.”

    Alex released a shaky breath. “And it took losing you. All you did was push me to make a decision I was always, always going to make. I was always going to end up in the Air Force, I was always going to lose my leg, everything was always going to be this hard because I had been fighting the wrong battles, not because you forced me to fight any of them. I could’ve left, and I didn’t. I could’ve stopped, and I didn’t. I could’ve hated it all, and I did, but . . . I didn’t.”

    He took Michael’s face in his hands, his own fury returned, but not at Michael. “So now, I want you to breathe, Guerin. I love you, and you love me, and I know that, and you didn’t hurt me, understand? You didn’t.”

    Michael searched his face, searching for the false assurance. But he didn’t find it.

    “You . . . you wanted to enlist . . . before me?”

    Alex shook his head, his lips quirking up in half a smile. “I don’t know if you noticed . . . but I was a dumb kid.”

    Michael, stupidly, felt like he would cry again. He’d thought the guilt would kill him, and now it felt like the relief just might. His lower lip trembled and he reached for Alex’s waist, hesitating for a few seconds before he gripped it, pulling Alex close. He couldn’t believe he still got to.

    “I can – I can still have you?”

    Alex huffed something between a cry and a chuckle. “If I can still have you.”

    “You still love me?”

    “More than anything,” Alex promised in a whisper, and Michael surged forward, unable to take it anymore, and kissed him.

    Really, it was more a press of their faces together as Michael didn’t have the breath to do anything more. Alex wrapped his arms around his shoulders as Michael’s face fell to the crook of his neck, holding him so tightly it must’ve hurt, but he didn’t care.

    He breathed Alex in until he couldn’t anymore, unable to believe that the burden he’d been carrying for so long was finally lifted.

    A cry of relief escaped him and Alex held him tighter, shushing softly into his curls. “Breathe, Guerin,” he told him. “Breathe.”

    Michael tried, his whole body trembling until Alex smoothed a hand up and down his back several times.

    “Honestly,” Alex murmured, and shrugged. “Why didn’t you just say something?”

    Something between a sob and a laugh escaped their lips and Michael cuddled deeper into the crook of Alex’s neck. Alex kept telling him to breathe, and for the first time since losing him to the Air Force, Michael felt like he finally could.

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  • pastelwitchling
    08.11.2021 - 3 weeks ago

    Malex prompt! I’m a sucker for hurt/comfort so.. Jones finding out about Malex and using Alex as leverage over Michael?

    Michael woke with a gasp, the edges of his vision blurred and darkening. He felt a burning pain in his side, something eating away at the rest of him the longer he lay there against his bunker wall. And still, one name came to mind, one name left his lips.


    Jones’s face swam to the surface of his mind, invading his private thoughts and finding what Michael would’ve died to protect. His love for Alex.

    “He has a toy I want.”

    The words had rattled Michael’s heart and left his brain in a panic. No, he’d thought before his father had tossed him aside.

    “Alex,” he murmured. “A-Alex. . . .” It was all he could say when Maria found him, all he could say as he pressed the gas pedal onto the floor of the truck in his hurry to get to Deep Sky. Alex wasn’t answering his phone, and Michael tried not to think of the worst.

    “Guerin!” Maria called as she clung to the car door for dear life. “Slow down!”

    He couldn’t. Alex was in danger. His Alex, and all because Michael loved him. Having someone else in the truck should’ve scared him into being more careful, into not swerving at every turn and running past every red light. Maybe he was selfish, but he didn’t care. Jones knew about Alex, and Alex wasn’t answering his phone.

    “If he touches a hair on his head . . .” Michael murmured, his palms burning with the tight grip on the leather steering wheel. It was too late for Jones anyway. He’d threatened Alex. His life was over.

                   When they got to Deep Sky’s headquarters, Michael ignored Maria and whatever she’d said about checking on the others in favor of running to the highest level of the building, where he knew Alex would be.

                   He took the stairs two at a time, calling Alex’s name. He half-expected to come into Alex’s workspace and find him at his desk in front of the Lockhart Machine, tinkering. He’d raise an amused brow at Michael’s theatrics and Michael would envelop him in a crushing hug, breathing him in and assuring himself that his Alex was okay and safe.

                   What he walked into instead was his life held against the wall by an invisible source, barely able to breathe. And there, in front of Alex’s struggling, writhing body, was Michael’s father, his hand held out to Alex, crushing the air out of him.

                   “You know, I have to say, Alexander,” said Jones without taking his eyes off the Lockhart Machine in front of him. “I get why my son has such an interest in you. Even I couldn’t crack this thing, and here you are, getting the better of it in record time. It’s the intelligence, isn’t it?” He smirked. “Like father like son.” He tilted his head at Alex. “Though the pretty face doesn’t hurt either.”

                   Michael took one step inside, and Jones tsked, twisting his wrist so that Alex’s air supply was almost completely cut off. Alex kicked the air uselessly, choking and clawing at his neck, begging his lungs to work.

    “I don’t think so, boy,” he said. “I warned you, didn’t I? I warned you I was stronger.”

    Michael did as he was warned and moved back again, his legs like lead, his hands trembling at the sight of Alex, once again suffocating under his watch by a cruel father and unable to do anything to save him.

    “L-Let him go,” Michael managed, his heart aching at the sight of a struggling Alex.

    “Oh, I will,” Jones said, still studying the Lockhart Machine. “A mind that brilliant, I can’t just set him loose. And it’d be such a waste to kill him. I could use a soldier like you, Manes, when I rebuild this planet.”

    Even through his suffocation, Alex’s hatred radiated off him. He’d known too many monsters to back down ever again.

    “Get . . . bent . . . asshole,” he grit out, and Michael felt a mix of pride in his chest alongside the fear. This was his Alex. Unrelentingly strong and brave. His hero.

    Jones pursed his lips and hummed. He seemed to realize the same thing that Michael did; that Alex would rather die than fight for a monster.

    “Pity,” he murmured, sounding genuinely disappointed. “Fine. Michael. I would’ve preferred to have you both, I could’ve given you both a place in my new world. But if your little human toy here insists on being ignorant, then I suppose one genius is better than none.”

    Without warning, Jones squeezed his fist tighter, and Alex’s breath cut off.

    “NO!” Michael screamed and tried holding out a hand to Alex. It was no use. His power wasn’t strong enough to fight his father’s. “LET HIM GO!”

    “No,” Jones said simply. “Now be quiet. I’m making the demands here.”

    Michael kept his hands held up, focusing on helping Alex down. Breathe, baby, he tried to tell him with his eyes. Just breathe, I’m right here. Hold on for me.

    Alex’s tears fought to the surface despite him, the pain too overwhelming for him to respond.

    Michael swallowed thickly. “What do you want?” he said, without taking his eyes off Jones.

    Jones smirked. He had them right where he wanted them, and it made Michael want to scream.

    “I may not have Alex’s undying loyalty like you do” – he chuckled – “seriously, I looked into his head, and this man really loves you, I’m kind of jealous! But anyway. I may not be allowed to have his mind forever, but you do. You have his notes, his ideas. You can finish working the Lockhart Machine now for me, and in return, I’ll make his death quick and merciful.”

    Michael flinched. “Alex,” he murmured, whispered, pleaded. Alex’s gaze was just as helpless as he tried and failed to take in one deep breath, his face turning red. He was dying, he was losing this battle.

    Or so Michael thought. At first, Michael assumed Alex clawing at his neck was in an effort to revitalize his lungs. But Alex wasn’t pounding his lungs. He was tugging at Tripp’s dog tags around his neck. He was trying to warn Michael, to tell him of his plan.

    My brilliant Alex, he thought, huffing an incredulous chuckle despite himself. It would earn them seconds, and Michael had no idea what Alex was planning to do in that time, but he trusted him.

    “So?” Jones tilted his head, his attention on Michael and not what he assumed was the helpless Air Force captain behind him. “What do you say?”

    Michael held up both hands in Alex’s direction, focusing on one central point; his dog tags.

    “I say,” Michael breathed, his body trembling with the effort to focus, “go to hell, old man.”

    At once, Alex’s dog tags yanked themselves free from Alex’s neck and shot at the back of Jones’s head with the speed of a bullet. Jones, startled, yelped with pain and loosened his own grip on Alex.

    “Ah!” Jones gripped the back of his head as the dog tags clattered to the floor. Alex fell with a grunt, but he was already reaching for something at his belt.

    By the time Jones realized he’d lost control, it was too late. Alex had his gun up and aimed. With steady focus, he shot at Jones’s back, then again at his shoulder.

    “Told you, Guerin,” Alex said darkly, his cool gaze on Jones. “We’re not the same kids we were in high school.”

    Jones gasped as he stumbled forward. He looked over his shoulder with wide, dangerous eyes, but Michael had already had a hand up and was keeping him in place.

    “You’re gonna pay for that one,” Michael growled, “dick.”

                   “No,” Jones hissed with only a slight crack in his voice, ever the steady killer, his glare on Alex. “I won’t.”

                   Jones held up both hands, and instead of Michael and Alex being thrown back, the space where Jones had been standing turning empty. Alex looked around, gun aimed. “How – how did he – oh!”

                   Alex’s words cut off as Michael closed the space between them in a few strides and pulled him in for a crushing hug.

                   “You’re okay,” he breathed, putting a trembling hand in Alex’s hair, the other wrapped tightly around his waist. “You’re okay.”

                   “Yeah,” Alex murmured, hugging Michael back when he was sure the threat was gone. “Guerin, you’re – you’re shaking.”

                   “I thought I –,” Michael heaved. “I thought –”

                   “It’s okay,” Alex stuck his fingers through his curls, making Michael’s eyes flutter. “It’s okay, I’m safe. We’re safe.”

                   “I love you,” he breathed, burying his face in the crook of Alex’s neck. “I’m so sorry, I love you. He came after you because of me. I’m so sorry, Alex –”

                   Alex shushed him softly. He tried to pull away at one point, but Michael held him tighter, hiding his whimper against Alex’s neck. Alex let him cling to him, holding him back just as tightly. Michael took in his vanilla scent, his warmth, his heart beating against his own chest.

                   When he was finally able to let go, he did it with still-trembling hands and a shuddering breath.

                   Alex’s held his face in his hands and Michael turned into his palm, his eyes closed.

                   “Listen to me,” Alex said. “You have to go, get the Lockhart Machine back to the others. They’ll need it.”

                   “No,” Michael shook his head, clinging tighter to Alex’s waist. “No, I wanna stay with you.”

                   Alex’s hold on him tightened, and he brought their foreheads together. “I want you to stay here,” he confessed in a whisper, “but they need you. And I still have work I have to get done here for the cell towers. Hey,” he started when Michael shook his head. “Hey. You’re going to be fine, and you’re going to come back to me, right? You’re coming right back.”

                   “I don’t want to go, Alex.” Michael knew he was being unfair to the others, that he was whining, but he didn’t care. Alex had almost died because of him, because Michael wasn’t around to protect him. It had happened too often before, and he never stopped regretting the last time he’d left Alex alone in danger. He couldn’t do it again. He wouldn’t.

                   Alex kissed him hard, and it woke Michael from his haze and fear. “Look at me. Guerin, look at me.”

                   Michael hesitated, and pulled back enough to look Alex in the eye. His own stung, but Alex held him steadily, as he always did.

                   “You and me, we’re going to be together for the rest of our lives,” he promised. “We’re always going have an alien in our backyard, right? This is what we signed up for.”

                   “I want you,” Michael argued through grit teeth. “I don’t want anything else.”

                   “And I want you to be you,” he said. “And you’re not you when you leave your siblings to fight on their own. Your brother needs you, and right now, you’re the only one that can save them. You have to go.”

                   “Alex . . .,” Michael trailed off, and pulled Alex in against him, kissing his neck, the crook, his shoulder. “I love you,” he breathed into his shoulder.

                   “And I love you,” Alex whispered back. “Now go.” He gently but firmly pushed Michael away. His own hands, Michael saw now, were shaking. “Go, Guerin, before I change my mind.”

                   Michael swallowed, hesitated for the longest minute, then forced himself to let go. Alex handed him the Lockhart Machine, Michael’s fingers brushing his own.

                   “Kiss me,” he begged Alex. “Please, Alex, kiss –”

                   Alex didn’t need to be told twice as he took Michael’s face in his hands and crashed their lips together. He pushed his hands through Michael’s curls and curved his body against Michael’s own, making him moan and eager to drop the machine in his hands and tear the airman’s clothes off.

                   Then Alex abruptly pulled back, the two panting against one another’s mouths.

                   “We can continue when you get back,” Alex breathed, pecked his lips once more, and let him go.

                   Despite every fiber in his body begging him not to, Michael turned away and left, promising himself that when he got back, he would finally hold Alex’s hand and never let him go again.

    Feels good to be posting again! I hope to be back for good this time, though I’m still working on another novel and hope to finish it by the end of this month. If you liked this fic even a little bit, please comment and share/reblog, it always makes the world of a difference 💕

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  • escapingreality51
    07.11.2021 - 3 weeks ago

    I’m always in this twilight

    a friend indeed, chapter 3, ao3 link here


    Max and Liz are getting married, and Michael is thrilled he gets to be the best man. When he hears that Alex Manes is coming back to be a bridesman, however, he starts to get nervous. Back in college, Alex and Michael were together in secret and six years later, Michael hasn’t stopped thinking about him. What will happen when Alex and Michael meet each other again?


    Liz kisses Max when they get home, and they have a whispered conversation that is no doubt about Michael as he takes off his jacket and hangs his hat on the wall. Liz walks to their bedroom with a “goodnight, Michael,” thrown over her shoulder, and then the silence hits him. His ears ring with the music of the bar, the thrumming of a night spent talking and drinking and now he is left with the remnants; a headache, a sour taste in his mouth, and a six-year-old grief he can’t seem to let go.
    “Water?” Max asks.
    “Yeah, good idea. Thanks for letting me crash here,” Michael says.
    “No problem.
    Max pours two glasses out and they end up on the couch.
    “You alright?” Max asks, one arm slung over the back of the couch and his face the picture of concern. “You seemed off tonight.”
    Michael takes a sip of water and it’s cold and refreshing and will help the headache tomorrow.
    “I don’t really know how to answer.”
    Max puts his glass on the coffee table. “You can talk to me you know, about anything.”

    3/9, 7.3k update, WIP, rated M, malex, pining with a happy ending

    #amelia writes#my fanfiction #fic: I'm always in this twilight #malex fanfiction #michael guerin x alex manes #alex manes loves michael guerin #michael guerin loves alex manes
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  • echo-bleu
    07.11.2021 - 3 weeks ago
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  • pastelwitchling
    30.10.2021 - 1 mont ago

    The Last Avenger: Alex Manes Appreciation Week Day 6

                   Alex wasn’t the same soldier he used to be. He’d lost his family, then lost a leg, but anyone looking at him now as the black S.H.I.E.L.D. agent fatigues hugged his muscles tightly, the two straps in a giant X across his chest keeping his shield steadily in place against his back, they would think he was the super soldier himself.

                   Alex seemed intent on not showing any weakness or exhaustion. Michael looked around at their friends. No one else wore the fatigues but Alex, but that had all been the point. No one else was supposed to stand out as an Avenger. Alex, they’d told Michael, would be found out no matter what because he would be the one everyone was looking for.

                   “Better I draw that attention to myself and keep you guys off the grid,” Alex had said. “Stop looking at me like that, Guerin, we don’t have a choice.”

                   Michael had hated the idea, using Alex as bait, so when Alex had devised a strategy to get Liz, Kyle, and Michael into Phoenix’s facility to destroy whatever sample they had and find the Lockhart Machine they’d somehow gotten a hold of, Michael had point-blank refused.

                   “I’m not leaving you alone, Alex,” he’d argued.

                   “Then the whole plan goes to tell,” Alex said. “Liz and Kyle can bypass their DNA bait, but we need someone who knows the alien tech inside out. Besides, I’ll have Max and Isobel and Maria –”

                   “I’m the one that’s supposed to protect you!”

                   Instead of getting angry or fighting back, Alex sighed and said, “I’ve been protecting myself for years, Guerin. I know what I’m doing.”

                   Michael wished he’d had some retort to that, especially now as Alex reminded everyone of the plan; he and Max and Isobel and Maria will stay outside to keep the aliens away from the public, while Michael, Liz, and Kyle will get inside and stop the transmissions from there. It was a good plan, better than anything anyone else could’ve come up with, Michael had to confess, with one flaw; he couldn’t leave Alex alone.

                   Now, as Alex and the others prepared to leave, Max squeezed Michael’s shoulder. “I’ll look after him.”

                   Michael could only nod. It was always someone else looking after Alex. Always someone else who was there for him when Michael should’ve been. Michael thought he was the one who had been alone all this time, but he had no idea what loneliness looked like until he saw Alex preparing for a war, knowing that he was going to be defenseless, and acting like it was business as usual. He hated it so much.

                   Before the aircraft moved lower over the city for them to leave, kept invisible to hide from the public of course, Michael pulled Alex aside by the arm.

                   “Yeah?” Alex asked when Michael didn’t say anything, caught on a silent sentence as he took in the sight of Alex and his strength. He was so beautiful.

                   When he couldn’t say anything, Alex gave him a fond little smile, like Michael was the cute one, and gestured over his shoulder. “Guerin, I’ve really got to –”

                   “The first time I fell in love with you wasn’t in that shed,” Michael said, and Alex fell silent. He was listening. “Or in the museum. It – it was in the music room.” He took a step towards Alex, shaking his head. “You were playing the piano. This emo kid who scared everybody just by looking at them, and there you were, playing the most beautiful music I’d ever heard. You were so focused, you didn’t even notice me watching you . . . and then I didn’t even notice that I’d been watching you for hours. I wanted to talk to you so badly, and I had no idea how or why. But I saw your guitar and my stupid brain went, Yeah, that’ll get his attention.”

                   Alex was staring, surprised and touched and sad, and Michael wanted more than anything to pull him away from all of this and take him home and keep him in his arms forever.

                   But he couldn’t, not now, so he huffed a teary-eyed chuckle and took Alex’s hands in his. “See what I mean, Private? I’ve loved you since the second I saw you” – he kissed his fingers, hard – “and I fall deeper and deeper in love with you every single day. I just really, really suck at showing it sometimes. You think you’re scared? Baby.” He wrapped his arms around Alex’s waist and pulled them flush together, their foreheads pressed. “I’m terrified every second that you’re going to realize you deserve so much better than me and leave.”

                   Alex shook his head, his eyes glassy. “I – I didn’t know –”

                   “I didn’t let you,” Michael whispered. “Because I wanted to be as strong as you.”

                   Something between a cry and a laugh escaped Alex’s lips. “Then I guess I’m not as strong as you thought I was.”

                   Michael nodded. “You’re not. You’re stronger.” He took Alex’s face in his hands. “And you will be okay, and this is going to end today, and then you and I are going to go home with our family.”

                   “Home,” Alex breathed, like he had it in his hands right now as he gripped Michael’s waist tightly.

                   Michael kissed him roughly, wanting it to hurt, wanting to feel it even after he let go. When he finally did, his eyes were closed. “Go,” he whispered quickly before he changed his mind. “Go, Alex.”

                   Alex left his embrace, there was the sound of air pressure releasing, Michael was hit with a strong wind, and when he opened his eyes, Alex, his siblings, and Maria were gone.

                   “Okay,” he breathed, and looked to Kyle and Liz who seemed to be waiting for his command now that Alex was gone. “Let’s get into this supersecret lair.”


                   It had been too long since Alex had been in New York. All this time, he’d had to pretend Manhattan had never made it into his resume as a soldier, but little did they know; it all started here. This was where the first mission had happened, where he and his friends realized that they made one hell of a team. This was where the Avengers started.

                   Today, he decided, would be when it all ended. Isobel, Max, and Maria stood close by, but not close enough that anyone watching Alex could associate them with him.

                   “If I was an army of ugly alien egg people,” said Isobel, looking around, “where would I be?”

                   “Back at the cabin,” Alex said, “they came out of nowhere. I think they’re using the Lockhart Machine’s transmissions to sneak in wherever they’d like, so keep your eyes –”


                   No sooner had one person screamed than more and more people joined in, and suddenly there was a crowd with horrified faces running in the opposite direction of where Alex and his friends were facing.

                   Standing tall over their heads, gathering in the clearing the crowds was leaving behind, the Iasi rose, their metallic feet clanking against the gravel and their beady bionic eyes looking for one person; Alex.

                   “Well,” Max murmured, staring, “that’s as good a sign as any.”

                   “Isobel, Maria,” Alex told them. “You know the plan.”

                   “Right,” they both said at once. In case the aliens dared show their faces in front of people and caused havoc, Isobel and Maria were supposed to use mindscapes to calmly and quickly get people away from the block. So while Alex approached with Max subtly moving in from the side, the women set to work.

                   Clearly, the Iasi had been expecting Alex to come alone because they didn’t even touched Isobel and Maria or even noticed Max, their attention fixed on Alex. Exterminate the Avengers. Yeah, like Alex was going to let that happen.

                   He ran toward them at full speed, picking the shield off his back, and used the leverage of a carboard box to leap onto a car, his legs not what they used to be. He threw his shield with a growl and it shot right into the Iasi in the lead before it ricocheted off it and onto its friends. One by one, the line of aliens fell as Alex not only threw his shield, but used it to beat back the Iasi, throwing one onto the other.

                   When Alex had faltered for just a split second because of his leg, the Iasi gathered, and he felt a talon leave claw marks on his cheek. Then the clear sky lit with lightning, and the strong voltage came down over their heads, hitting every single Iasi while missing Alex, turning them to ash and flesh.

                   Alex wiped a piece of translucent flesh off his sleeve and looked around. Max was running towards him, looking pale but otherwise all right. Isobel and Maria seemed to have the same problem as they led people away from the block, getting them out of the apartments. There was a ringing in his ear and the faint echo of the Iasi’s screams and clanging metal.

                   In the distance, to his dismay, he could see more and more Iasi coming out of temporary portals. Unless the Lockhart Machine’s transmissions were changed soon, there’d be too many for even the four of them to fight back.

                   Alex checked his watch as he panted, and pressed the intercom at his ear. “Guys, listen up. Michael and Kyle and Liz should be on their way into the Phoenix headquarters right now. The rest of us have one job. Tear these things apart.”

                   Max reached for his cheek and the gash he could feel bleeding down into his clothes. He brushed off his concern with a weary nod and picked up his shield.

                   “If you get hurt,” he said, “hurt ‘em back.” Max’s eyes darkened and he nodded as he and Alex turned to face the monsters, Alex’s shield up and ready. “You get killed, walk it off.”


                   The hallways of the Phoenix headquarters were not without their security. Michael had imagined large, circular rooms with computers on the walls and high tech everywhere and evil scientists working on genetic mutation or something. Instead, it felt a lot like Caulfield with guards and their guns stationed every couple of feet. Only difference now was that they didn’t have Alex and his military thinking to outwit their opponent.

                   But between him, Liz, Kyle, and his ability to throw men with weapons into the walls and knock them out without touching them, Team Science wasn’t doing too bad.

                   “I hate not knowing how Alex is doing,” Kyle grumbled as they stepped over another body that Michael, in his frustration, had thrown against the ceiling like a ragdoll.

                   “For once,” Michael muttered, “you and I agree on something, Valenti.”

                   By the time they’d made it past the overbuilt security and there was a mess of bodies behind them, they found themselves in front of two large doors. Michael said he would go ahead and when the doors opened, it quickly became apparent that that was the right thing to do.

                   The room they’d stepped into was exactly what Michael had been envisioning; classic evil rich person lair with its many agents on computers and scientists stumbling around with clipboards. Only this lair had soldiers ready to take aim at whoever crashed in first, which happened to be Michael.

                   It was no use. Using his powers, Michael created an invisible wall between him and the soldiers that took hold of the bullets instead of letting them fall. He turned them around when the guns were out of ammo and threatened, “You sent your alien dogs on my boyfriend, assholes! You think I need an excuse to kill you?!”

                   Michael honestly couldn’t have said whether he’d been bluffing or not. Knowing that Alex was out there, at the risk of death, because some pricks in oversized coats were tampering with things they didn’t understand – it made his blood boil.

                   Instead of shooting the guards though, he threw everyone into a wall, and between them and the scientists that ran for their lives, the Lockhart Machine was in full view.

                   “Finally,” Liz ran past Michael to the machine. “Let’s end this.”

                   “End it?” a voice sounded, and they looked over to find one man with his pale hair streaked back and wearing a long black coat step out of the shadows. He had a German accent and the gun he held was smaller than the guns the guards had carried. “I’m afraid we can’t do that yet, Ms. Ortecho.”

                   Liz stepped away from the barrel of the gun, away from the Lockhart Machine as the German stood in front of it.

                   “You see,” he said, “I never got to finish what I started those few years ago,” he smiled, baring his yellow teeth, “when I set out to kill the Avengers.”

                   Liz paled and Michael felt his heart sink into his stomach. He clenched his jaw. “It was you,” he said. “You’re the one who tore Alex apart.”

                   He hummed. “And I’ve kept a close eye on my mistake for a long time. You’ll find, Michael Guerin, that my bullets are a little harder to stop than the others’. Yellow pollen is certainly not easy to find, but I’m a persistent man.”

                   Liz swallowed and Michael pulled her back to stand behind him. “You coated the bullets,” she said.

                   “I did,” he smiled, like this was all some fun game. “I wasn’t willing to risk losing to Captain America a second time. And now I won’t.”

                   “I’m going to kill you,” Michael said quietly. “I’m going to kill you for what you did to him.”

                   “No,” he said softly. “You won’t. Do you know the definition of insanity, Mr. Guerin? I suggest you watch your boyfriend closely.” At once, the giant computer behind him lit with visual feed of Alex, Max, Isobel, and Maria, fighting the Iasi. Michael felt all the blood leave his body at once. Alex was bleeding, his clothes covered in dust and blood. He clenched his fist, the room vibrating.

                   “Insanity, I think,” said the German, unperturbed, “would be to watch your family die by one hand, and bring your next one back for the same fate.” A dark, pleased look came over his face. “I will destroy the man that stopped me once, but not by killing him. Not yet. First, I’ll make him watch as I tear off your limbs and burn you from the –”

                   Whatever German Guy was going to say next was cut off as he seized, the sound of a faint buzzing behind him. When he fell, Michael and Liz saw Kyle standing behind him with a taser in his hand.

                   At their looks of surprise, he shrugged a shoulder. “I owed Alex one.”

                   They didn’t waste any time. Right away, Liz and Kyle broke through the DNA samples Phoenix had used as bait, injecting it with a serum they’d created and rendering it to dead cells. After that it was up to Michael. He glanced up every so often, watching as Alex and Max struggled under the weight of the Iasi, as the pain in his leg got worse and worse, as he fought like the leader of the Avengers would but exhaustion beat through him regardless.

                   “I’m coming, baby,” he murmured, working through the last of the turquoise shielding. “I’m coming.”

                   Finally, Michael broke through the wall and the Lockhart Machine blinked several times.

                   “What did you do?” Kyle asked. “It’s not shutting off.”

                   “It’s not supposed to yet,” Michael said, eyes on the screen. “We’ve got to send those bastards to the other end of the galaxy first, then leave them stranded.” He and the others waited with bated breath as the Iasi fought, then very suddenly, one by one, the aliens turned away from Alex and Max, from Isobel and Maria, and looked around as if they could hear something no one else could.

                   Without raising another talon, they created portals in thin air and leapt into them like their lives depended on it. Soon they were gone, all of them. The threat was gone.

                   Michael pressed the intercom at his ear. “You look like you need a good, long night, Private.”

                   Alex laughed, and it brought a wide smile to Michael’s lips. He shook his head. “What, me? I could do this all day.”

                   Michael couldn’t help it. He laughed, too.


                   Alex couldn’t believe it when he and the others had made it back to the aircraft, beaten and bruised but otherwise okay. He could believe even less than he was sitting across the unconscious man who had been responsible for the death of his family.

                   His friends stood around him now, wary and quiet, but they sounded like they were underwater in comparison to the screams of the Avengers. Their laughter, their hopes – all gone, because of him.

                   So swiftly and before anyone realized he was reaching for it, Alex undid the gun from Agent Hill’s belt and was holding the barrel against Hans Yelksson’s forehead.

                   “Alex!” Liz warned.

                   “You don’t want to do this,” Kyle told him.

                   “No,” Alex said. “I really, really do.” His hand trembled with rage.

                   “Alex,” Max told him, “just think about this.”

                   “You’ll be as bad as him,” Maria said.

                   “I already am.”

                   “Alex, don’t,” Liz urged.

                   “Leave him,” Fury told the others. “Just leave him.”

                   He didn’t sound worried that Alex would kill Hans. Maybe he wanted Hans dead, too, or maybe he didn’t think Alex would actually do it. Alex put his finger on the trigger.

                   “Good people died because of him,” Alex said darkly. “Heroes. He has to pay.”

                   Pleas and urges in Alex’s ears made no difference. Then Michael’s hand fell on top of his on the gun, and Michael’s lips brushed his ear.

                   “Hey,” he said softly, and it cut through the noise like a knife. “C’mon, baby. Put it down.”

                   Alex’s jaw clenched. “Guerin –”

                   “Put it down,” Michael ran his other hand down Alex’s back. Then he whispered, “I don’t want you to do this. Not you.”

                   “He deserves it,” Alex’s breaths were ragged. “He killed my friends.”

                   Michael pressed his forehead to Alex’s temple, his breaths easing the knot slightly in Alex’s chest. “Put it down, Private,” he whispered, slowly tugging at the gun from Alex’s hand. “For me. Please, baby, do it for me.”

                   Alex blinked the tears from his eyes and slowly let Michael take the gun. He turned his face into the crook of Michael’s neck, his eyes shut.

                   “I don’t want to be here anymore,” he breathed. “Get me out of here, Guerin.”

                   Michael held him tight and wouldn’t let him see Hans again. The man who had ruined his life for the longest time, Alex was assured, would suffer for the rest of his life in a four-by-four windowless cell.

                   “I’ll be checking in on him,” Fury had told him. “Your job’s done here, Cap.”

                   Alex was the last to step off the S.H.I.E.L.D. aircraft, so Michael was also the last. He shook hands with Agent Hill, gave a nod to Fury, and walked off.

                   “Will you regret it?” Michael asked as the aircraft turned invisible and disappeared above the clouds. “We’ll never have their tech, their resources. Must’ve been some perks to being an Avenger.”

                   Alex smiled at Michael. “Yeah,” he said, “but none of them compared to you, Michael Guerin.” He took Michael’s face in his hands, his thumbs brushing his cheeks. He kissed his lips and Michael’s arms came around him, holding him tight, steady, safe. Alex’s smile turned soft and certain.

                   “I’m home.”


    This was one hell of a journey, and I’ve been imagining it for so long. I can’t believe I’ve finally finished. I have a lot of writing to do and I’m running a little late, but it was worth it to finish this ending that I’m very happy with. No one deserves an Avengers storyline more than Alex. He’s my hero, and I’m so happy to have been able to participate in appreciating him this week, not that I don’t appreciate him every second of every day. I hope you enjoyed reading this story as much as I enjoyed writing it. If you did, please comment and reblog/share as it always makes the world of a difference ❤🤍💙

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  • manesalex
    30.10.2021 - 1 mont ago

    a little bit of everything

    Everyone sees different sides of Alex; or, all of our characters interacting with Alex. for @alexmanesappreciation

    Warnings for some hints of smut. Also, this is in no way Maria-friendly.


    Liz looks up from her microscope at the sound of someone walking into the lab. To her surprise, it’s Alex, looking unsure. “If you’re looking for Michael,” she offers. “He won’t be here for another hour or so.” She’s seen more of Alex since he and Michael got together than in the past few years Alex has been in Roswell, but only because Michael is always inviting him to join him in the lab. She would complain about the way it impacts their work, but, well, she’s never seen Michael this happy. Nor has she seen him as comfortable in himself, rarely bothering with the macho cowboy posturing anymore.

    “I was actually looking for you,” Alex says.

    “I don’t know how much help I can be. I’m pretty sure Mikey understands all of this just as well as I do,” she replies, noting the way Alex smiles at her nickname for Michael.

    “Actually, I had a personal question,” Alex says, looking uncomfortable.

    “Shoot,” Liz replies, setting aside her notebook and turning her full attention toward him.

    “It’s just… You have a lot more experience with serious relationships than I do and you know Michael really well and-- I don’t want to fuck things up with him.” In the more than twenty years she’s known him, Alex has never been this vulnerable with her, usually defaulting to the humor that both of them handle better than feelings.

    “I don’t think you could,” Liz replies. She’d thought Michael and Maria had made a good match, but she can’t say that she hasn’t noticed that Michael responds to Alex the way Max responds to her.

    “I have. I spent more than a decade doing exactly that.”

    Liz sighs. She hasn’t been in love with Max nearly that long, but she knows she’s done her fair share of messing their relationship up. “What’s your question?”

    “Is it too soon to ask him to move in with me?” Alex asks. And then, before she can answer, “We’ve only been together a couple of months and I know that’s so fast, but I’ve also been in love with him since I was seventeen and I know he’s it for me, but--”

    “You don’t want to push him away by moving too fast?” she asks.


    “For me and Max? Now would be too soon, yeah. I’m not ready to share a space with him. We just got back together and I wasn’t there when we were together for an entire year.”

    “So I should wait.”

    “Not necessarily,” Liz replies. “I’m pretty sure Michael’s trying to match your pace for the same reasons you’re worried about going too fast for him. You should ask him. But make sure he knows he can say no if he wants.”


    “Do me a favor though?” Liz asks with an evil grin. “Before you propose to him, let me know? I have a pool to win.”

    Alex just laughs at that. “You got it.”


    “You’ve made Michael really happy, you know,” Max starts when he walks into Alex’s office at Project Shepard.

    “If you’re about to give me a shovel talk,” Alex replies, tone flat. “You don’t need to bother. I’m not going to hurt Michael. Not if I can help it.”

    “No! Of course not, man. I just-- I wanted to know how you do it so I can make Liz that happy.”

    “I’m pretty sure I’m the last person you want to ask for advice on what does it for Liz,” Alex tilts his head and grins, looking like he’s about two seconds away from laughing.

    Max can feel his entire face heating up at that, “No, I mean, I don’t-- It’s not--”

    “It’s okay, Evans,” Alex’s tone is far kinder now. “You’re the romantic. You’re telling me your poetry isn’t making Liz swoon?”

    Max ducks his head in response, “I’m… I haven’t shown her any of it?”

    Alex looks surprised at that, “You write romantic poetry and you’re not sharing it with Liz? I mean, I get that being vulnerable is hard and I know Liz isn’t exactly a romantic, but I’m sure she’ll understand the sentiment behind it. And she’ll be happy you’re being vulnerable with her.

    “But,” he pauses, “Beyond that, have you tried asking her what she wants? What would make her happier?”

    Max can feel his face heating up again, this time in shame. “No?”

    “Come on, Evans,” Alex sighs. “Just ask her. I’m probably not one to talk because I still struggle with that with Michael, but… Talk to her. Liz can answer your questions better than I can. And, if you want your relationship to last, you’re gonna need communication.”

    “So I just ask her?” Max asks.

    “Yes,” Alex replies, as if it’s the simplest thing in the world. “Just ask her. Talk to Liz about what she wants and what you want. I know you adore her, but, if you don’t know what she wants, how the hell are you supposed to give it to her?”

    “Is that what you do with Michael?” Max asks.

    Alex sighs, “Michael and I have our own issues, but, yeah. We talk about things. We’re working on it, anyway.”

    “Huh,” is the only reply that Max can come up with. “Thanks for the advice.”


    "Can I give you some advice?"

    Isobel raises an eyebrow at Alex, but, after a moment, she nods. She doesn’t know him, not really. He’s only ever been the guy her brother is in love with, at least to her, even when he’s helped her and Max as well.

    "I don't know if you feel forever about Anatsa, and, if you do, ignore what I'm gonna say, but--" he pauses, looks away, and takes a breath, before saying, "I know what it's like when trauma makes the thought of being with someone you love terrifying. And you should take however long you want or need to deal with that." He turns to look at her, "I just… I don't want you to make the same mistake I did. If there's someone you feel that way about, let them know what's going on."

    “You seem pretty happy now,” she replies, trying her hardest to dismiss the nagging worry that this comment brought her back to.

    “I am,” Alex grins at her and, wow, yeah, she can see why her brother fell head-over-heels in love with him. And then his expression turns more serious, “But I almost wasn’t. Michael knew how I felt and still-- I didn’t explain what was going on in my head. And I hurt him so much that he almost--” He cuts himself off, clearly upset. “If I’m right, just tell him how you feel. He’ll understand why you’re not ready yet,”

    Isobel knows exactly who Alex is referring to and that alone tells her that maybe he’s right after all.


    Michael used to hate mornings. They were consistently his least favorite time of the day. If he could have his way, he’d sleep until at least noon.

    But, since he’s been with Alex, well, he’s found a new appreciation for mornings.

    On weekdays, Alex sets his alarm absurdly early and gets out of bed instantly, but Michael gets to bury his face in Alex’s pillow until it’s time for him to get up and go to work. And, when he does get up, there’s usually a thermos of coffee waiting for him, along with a little note from Alex.

    Michael is pretty sure he’ll never really enjoy weekday mornings, but Alex makes them considerably better.

    Weekend mornings are another matter though. Michael is well aware Alex can get up at ungodly hours of the morning without any effort, but, on the weekend, Alex whines about the sunlight and presses his face against Michael’s chest as if he’s trying to hide from it. He’ll do that until Michael wraps his arms around him and uses his powers to close the blinds. Which usually earns him a sleepy “Thank you,” followed by a kiss to whichever patch of his skin Alex’s mouth is closest to.

    Affection seems to come easier for Alex first thing in the morning, when he’s not yet thinking of all the things that need to be done. Once he’s awake, his hands don’t seem to stop wandering. Neither does his mouth, for that matter. And Michael is more than happy to reciprocate.

    Eventually, when they’re both sated, Michael forces himself to get up first, laughing when Alex inevitably grumbles and reaches for him, trying to pull him back to bed. Most of the time, Michael lets him.

    When he does get out of bed though, he usually turns on the coffee pot and makes breakfast, bringing it to Alex in bed. And then he gets treated to a sleep-warm and sex-haired Alex Manes who usually insists on thanking him for breakfast and then, well, Michael and Alex usually don’t get out of bed until sometime in the early afternoon.

    So, yeah, Michael is really starting to love mornings. Or weekend mornings, anyway.

    This morning, however, is different. He and Alex are going to meet Alex’s mom for lunch.

    “Do I look okay?” Michael asks, trying to tame his hair in the full length mirror.

    He can hear the smile in Alex’s voice when he says, “You look very handsome. But you didn’t need to ask Isobel to help you pick an outfit, you know. I think you look even better in your own clothes.”

    Michael doesn’t ask how Alex knew Isobel had picked his clothes out. He simply explains, “Isobel knows how to make a good impression with parents.”

    “My mom is going to love you, you know,” Alex says, wrapping his arms around Michael from behind and resting a chin on his shoulder. “No matter what you’re wearing.”

    Michael can’t resist leaning back into Alex’s embrace, but he still asks, “How do you know?” as he adjusts his collar in the mirror.

    “Because I love you. And because you make me happier than I even knew was possible,” Alex’s eyes meet Michael’s in the mirror and Michael smiles in spite of himself.

    “What if she doesn’t?” Michael asks him. He can’t help but wonder if Alex’s mother will see all the things about him that aren’t good enough for Alex, if she’ll make Alex see them too.

    “If she doesn’t, she’ll be missing out,” Alex says simply, pressing a kiss to Michael’s jaw. “And I’ll love you just as much as I do now.”

    “Promise?” Michael asks with a nervous smile.



    Maria’s always been able to count on Alex to be there for her, to be the support she needs when her mom is lost in her own head and the rest of the world seems so unfair. So, when Alex left for war, she was angry with him, even if he did still call and write regularly. She had to do everything on her own and, well, maybe she resented him a bit for that.

    When he came back home, things returned to the way they’ve always been, Alex helping with her mom and getting Liz to show up for her.

    And then Maria started to see a new side to Michael, a guy who took care of her the way she’s always wanted someone to. And, if she found out that Alex has been in love with him for the past decade at the same time, well, Alex has always been able to handle things so well on his own. Maria needs someone to show up for her.

    Alex understood, of course. Why else would he forgive her so easily? If he was so in love with Michael, why would he encourage her to give Michael another chance?

    Things with Michael hadn’t ended up working out anyway, so it didn’t matter, in the end. Michael needed too much from her and, really, that wasn’t what she wanted. Now Alex has what he wants and Maria has a man who will support her in every way she needs.

    So she’s surprised when Alex comes into The Wild Pony one day, his usual friendly smile gone, his face cold and almost blank, an expression she’s never seen on him before. It’s the first time she’s ever seen him look like a soldier. At first, she thinks something is wrong with him. That is, she thinks that until he speaks, “I need you to be kinder to Michael. I know that you threw yourself off of the Crashdown roof and he saved you in broad daylight. He could have been caught, but he put your safety before his own.”

    He pauses before adding, “I don’t know how things ended between you two, but I know Michael. He is the most loving person I’ve ever met. And he deserves to be treated better than you treat him. Is that understood?”

    Maria is so shocked that it takes a minute for her to manage a, “Yes?”

    And then Alex gives her a tight grin and a, “Thank you,” before walking out of the bar again.


    “Haven’t you seen this before?” Kyle asks as the opening credits start to play. He grabs a handful of popcorn from the bowl on Alex’s coffee table.

    “Of course he has,” Michael replies from Alex’s other side, sounding offended. “You’re the only one here who hasn’t seen a single Star Wars movie.”

    “He’s right. This is vital pop culture knowledge we’re helping you with,” Alex says, barely glancing at Kyle before turning to grin at Michael, grabbing his arm and pulling it over his shoulder.

    Michael is looking at Alex like he hung the moon and,well, Kyle knows how lucky he is that Alex trusts him with this, trusts him to witness his happiness and his love for Michael.

    After all, Kyle is well aware he made a lot of mistakes when he was younger. Mistakes he's still trying to make amends for. But the biggest mistake of all was how he treated Alex.

    Outside of his parents, Alex was the only one who didn't seem to care about what Kyle could do for them, the status he could provide, the popularity that he brought with him.

    And he turned on him. He doesn't know that he'll forget the look on Alex's face the first time he directed a homophobic slur at him. The momentary heartbreak, quickly covered by the faux toughness Kyle knows he learned from his brothers. And all for the approval of some jocks whose names Kyle can barely remember anymore.

    Now, well, now Kyle is trying to make up for it, though he knows he'll never really deserve Alex's forgiveness. He’s grateful for it anyway, and he strives to keep on deserving it.

    He knows that Alex has every reason to refuse to have anything to do with him, outside of their fathers’ legacies and their shared involvement in protecting the aliens.

    But, instead, Alex has started to come to him for advice, has started to offer his support to Kyle too. Whether or not Alex realizes it, he’s the best friend Kyle has and Kyle knows how lucky he is.

    “So, that’s Captain Kirk, right?” Kyle asks, well aware that the man who just appeared onscreen is Luke Skywalker.

    Michael throws a handful of popcorn at him, but it’s worth it for the offended look on Alex’s face and the way Alex quickly starts telling him all about Luke Skywalker.


    If Rosa is being honest with herself, she’s avoided Alex Manes since Max brought her back.

    It’s not that they weren’t friends. It’s just that she knew Alex as the shy, sweet boy she taught how to use black eyeliner and who started borrowing her nail polish before he got his own. She remembers him telling her that he’s gay and that fear in his eyes that she’d react just like his father would, just like Kyle had. And she remembers the way he cried when she hugged him.

    So she’s not sure she wants to get to know whoever he’s become.

    Of course, she could only hide from him so long.

    “I know you’ve been avoiding me,” Alex starts, walking up to the counter of the Crashdown. It’s past closing time, but her dad gave Alex a key back when he was a kid who didn’t have anywhere safe to go. Apparently, he still has it.

    Rosa just shrugs, focusing on marrying the ketchups.

    “I know I’ve changed and I get why you’re--” he pauses and she looks up at him for just a moment to find that his eyes are shining with tears. But he pushes them down and holds out the guitar that’s in his hand. “Your dad gave this to me after you--” he swallows. “After you died. And I know you’ve been using art to try to help cope with everything, but Michael told me about your new abilities and I thought-- I thought maybe it could help with both.”

    “Don’t you need it?” Rosa asks.

    He smiles at her, tears still visible in his eyes, “I couldn’t ever seem to make myself play it anyway.”

    That’s when Rosa reaches out and takes it, her fingers brushing his, “Thank you.”

    “No problem.”

    She takes a breath before saying, “I’m rusty as hell. You think maybe you could help me pick it back up?”

    Alex’s responding grin is brilliant, even if she can still see the tears in his eyes, “I’d like that. Text me when you’re free?”

    “Got it,” she grins back at him, watching as he heads back out to the street, locking the door behind him.

    She thinks maybe the Alex she knew never really disappeared at all.

    #alexweek21#alexappreciation21#roswell fic#rnm fic #alex manes fic #malex fic#malex fanfiction #roswell new mexico #alex manes #actual cinnamon roll #protect him at all costs #michael x alex #otp: home can be a person #*myfic
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  • pastelwitchling
    29.10.2021 - 1 mont ago

    The Last Avenger: Alex Manes Appreciation Week Day 5

                   Alex stood before the wide windows of the S.H.I.E.L.D. aircraft, arms crossed, feeling like an idiot.

                   How could he have told Michael any of that stuff? It wasn’t like there was anything he could do to fix it. Michael couldn’t force himself to love Alex more than he already did. It had been Alex’s burden to bear, he was never supposed to push it on the one person he’d been fighting so hard to protect.

                   “Stupid,” he muttered, hitting his forehead against the glass. “Stupid, stupid, stupid –”

                   “Well,” a voice sounded and materialized at his side. It was Fury. “At least now we know you’re definitely human. We had an office pool going.”

                   “Funny,” Alex said, rubbing his forehead. He was sure it was red now. Great. How would he explain that to Michael?

                   “I like him,” he said. “The cowboy. Suits you.”

                   “Yeah?” Alex sighed. “What makes you say that?”

                   “I have no idea,” he confessed. “Just sounded like the thing to say to break the ice.” He heaved a groan. “I guess, for starters, I’ve never seen anyone worship anyone else like he worships you.”

                   Alex swallowed thickly, and shut his eyes. “And how many couples have you actually met travelling around in this thing?” he asked, nudging the toe of his foot against the steel wall.

                   “You might be surprised,” he grinned. Alex said nothing, turning the words over in his head.

                   “So you really did it, huh?” Fury said after a while. “You really left, you really planned on staying out.”

                   Alex shook his head, bone-tired. “I’d lost too much to stick around.”

                   He nodded. “I would’ve let you stay lost, you know.”

                   “Please,” Alex rolled his eyes. “Spare me the I’ve always cared about you speech, okay? I’ve heard it from just about everybody who’s ever let me down, I don’t need to add you to the list. You wanted soldiers and you lost them, that’s what upsets you.”

                   He turned to stare at him. “Is that why I keep Hill closer than most? Is that why I kept Romanoff in my confidence?” Fury shook his head. “No, Alex. Soldiers are a dime in a dozen. Losing so many of my friends . . . that was what hurt.”

                   Alex clenched his jaw, his eyes burning. One tragedy in his mind to another. “I can still hear their screams,” he said. “Smell the fire . . . feel the blood.”

                   “You don’t forget crap like that,” Fury said grimly.

                   “You know,” his voice fell to a murmur, “every day I say their names so that I never forget them.”

                   “Mason Scott,” Fury suddenly said. “Eugene Laurent, Everly James, Nur al-Dean, Jackson Willer, and Roshani Khatri. Like I said, a lot of good friends.”

                   Alex held his gaze for a long while, something cracking in him that he’d told himself would never break again. A silence passed between them like the kind that had passed so many years ago, when he and Fury could somehow communicate without talking. When he’d first been talked into joining the Avengers, and when he’d sworn that the next time he left, he wouldn’t just leave. He would disappear.

                   Then an alert from a single computer sounded, and Alex’s head whipped around. Fury looked like he was going to ask what was wrong, but didn’t he already feel it? The tension in the air? How close they were to danger? Then again, maybe that was why Alex was the Avenger.

                   Before Fury could get a word out, one computer after the other sounded the alarms, sirens turned on, and Agent Hill hurried up to where Fury and Alex were standing.

                   “We’ve found them,” she said with a  glance at Alex. “The tracking system the captain set up worked. We know where Phoenix is.”

                   “Let me guess,” Alex said grimly, looking out the window again. “New York?”

                   “Yeah,” Agent Hill sounded surprised. “How did you know?”

                   He pointed at something just below the clouds. “Because I’m looking at the Empire State Building right now.”

                   The airship started to descend, and below, they could see Manhattan stretched out below them. So many lives at risk.

                   “Call the others,” Fury ordered.

                   “There’s no need,” Liz suddenly said, showing up.

                   “We’re already here,” Max said at her side.

                   “We sent word out to the rest of the team,” Maria said with crossed arms.

                   Isobel showed up to Fury’s other side and smirked. “Just like Alex told us to.”

                   “I had a feeling,” Alex pinched the bridge of his nose.

                   “Don’t you always,” Kyle appeared with a grin.

                   “Guys,” Alex tried, “listen, this is going to be very, very dangerous. I can’t promise you’ll all be safe. If you want to pull out now –”

                   “Don’t, Private,” Michael said as he came up. His smirk was dark but his gaze was intent. “Just don’t. We’re with you, till the end of the line.”

                   In his words, the fierceness of his tone, Alex heard his secret message. I’m with you for good. I’m not leaving.

                   Alex swallowed and looked away, unable to take the hammering in his heart. He remembered moments after losing the other Avengers, how alone he’d felt. He’d been sure that no one would ever fill the hole in his heart, but looking around at his friends now and their brave faces, looking at Michael and knowing that he was there, it felt as close as he would ever get to healing.

                   “It’s your call, Cap,” said Fury, Agent Hill standing straight at his side.

                   Alex looked down at the shield he’d set against the wall next to him. A little more.

                   “In that case,” he picked up his shield and drew himself up. “Avengers.” His friends followed in his lead, ready for the command. So Alex gave it. “Assemble.”


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  • manesalex
    29.10.2021 - 1 mont ago

    We’d be together

    Michael and Alex on Alex’s couch. A missing scene from All the smiles that are ever gonna haunt me. for @alexmanesappreciation

    All you need to know to understand this is that these horny idiots got distracted by each other, burned dinner, tossed it into the sink, and went right back to what they were doing.

    Warnings for so much smut. This is entirely smut.


    Michael’s stubble is rough against Alex’s skin as his mouth presses kisses to Alex’s jaw. Somehow, that slight burn against his skin makes this feel more real, reminds him that Michael is here. Alive. And, somehow, he wants Alex.

    One of Michael’s hands is on his jaw, holding him carefully, like he’s fragile, and the other is pressing against his lower back, pinky just dipping below the edge of his jeans as the rest of his fingers reach under Alex’s shirt. Alex wants to feel those hands everywhere, wants to memorize the too-hot feel of his skin against Alex’s own.

    Alex rocks his hips, grinding against Michael’s lap, desperate for more and the groan Michael lets out in response only makes Alex want to do it again.

    Michael pulls away from his mouth for a moment and Alex starts to chase his lips. But Michael speaks, “Can I?” His right hand is lifting Alex’s shirt just a bit, but he’s waiting for permission for more.

    Alex nods, helping Michael pull the shirt over his head and tossing it to the side, desperate to get more of those intoxicating kisses, desperate for more of everything.

    And it seems like Michael is just as desperate, pulling Alex closer with both hands on Alex’s hips, until he’s right where Michael clearly wants him. Not that Alex minds, not when he can feel Michael’s hard length through his jeans, not when it’s pressing against him. He just wants more.

    He digs both hands in Michael’s curls, marveling at how soft they are for just a moment before he’s capturing Michael’s lips with his own again, tearing desperately and ineffectually at Michael’s shirt.

    Michael pulls his hands away from Alex’s hips, just long enough to unbutton his shirt and toss it aside, pulling his t-shirt over his head and tossing it to the side after it. And then his lips are against Alex’s again for just a moment before he’s trailing them along Alex’s jaw, toward his neck.

    Alex clings to Michael’s shoulders as he rocks his hips, desperate for friction, desperate for more of this man.

    “Oh, fuck, Alex,” Michael groans against Alex’s throat

    “That’s the idea,” Alex manages.

    He can feel Michael’s wicked grin against his skin, “Oh, really?”

    Alex just nods and, a moment later, he can feel Michael’s hands on his pants, practically tearing them open.

    Then they’re a mess of uncoordinated limbs, both trying to get the rest of their clothes off as fast as possible, but it’s worth the awkwardness for the moment Michael pulls him back onto his lap, a happy smile on his face.

    Just knowing that he’s the one who put it there, who made Michael smile like that, is enough for Alex to be sure that he’ll spend the rest of his life trying to keep making Michael smile like that, if only Michael lets him.

    And then Michael is pulling him in for a kiss, soft and sweet, and more gentle than anything Alex has ever known. He barely notices the sound of a packet tearing, too focused on Michael to notice much else.

    But he does notice the slide of Michael’s fingers, already coated in lube, against him, one slowly pushing inside of him, sliding in and out.

    Michael is still kissing him when he presses a second finger in to join the first and Alex can feel his smile against his mouth when Alex presses back against him, trying to move him faster, desperate for more.

    Michael takes his time though, working Alex open slowly, eventually adding a third finger, deliberately brushing against Alex’s prostate every once in a while, seemingly delighting in the noises that escape Alex.

    And, finally, finally, Michael slides his fingers out of Alex, grabbing a condom and another packet of lube.

    Alex watches and tries to catch his breath as Michael slides the condom on before coating his cock in lube.

    Neither one of them is particularly coordinated in their desperation, but they both just grin at each other and, well, Alex has never felt safe like this. Safe to be himself. He knows Michael has seen him at his worst and still wants him.

    Finally, Alex is lowering himself onto Michael, taking him in until Michael is in him to the hilt.

    The look on Michael’s face, the wonder, the heat, it overwhelms Alex. The thought that he could affect Michael like this.

    He holds onto Michael’s shoulders, using them to help balance him as he moves, slowly at first. Michael’s hands are tight on his hips, not guiding him, just clinging onto him as he rides him.

    Eventually, Alex can’t keep that slow and steady pace any longer, moving faster and faster, desperate for more.

    Michael wraps his hand around Alex’s cock, moving in time with Alex, drawing desperate cries from Alex’s lips.

    He can feel him, Michael shuddering with pleasure as he comes inside of him, burying his face against Alex’s throat when he’s done.

    Alex comes moments later, crying out and collapsing forward against Michael.

    To his surprise, Michael just holds him, rubbing his clean hand up and down his back.

    They stay like that for a while, dinner forgotten, just basking in each other’s touch.

    #alexweek21#alexappreciation21#roswell fic#rnm fic#malex fic#malex fanfiction#malex #roswell new mexico #michael guerin #i love (1) actual disaster #alex manes #actual cinnamon roll #protect him at all costs #michael x alex #otp: home can be a person #*myfic
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