#tiny alec hardy

[tinyalechardy]

Guys... he's sleeping with a raw fish. And he's on my little tray. How do I wake him without getting bitten.

[should-david-be-there]

david tennant with south london's greatest dirtbag boyband @bearsintreesofficial??? sounds like a place he should be

(also listen to their new song 'hot chocolate' when it comes out on Thursday :])

[schmweed]

[hermesparis]

losing my mind over alec hardy hours

[munsons-maiden]

𝚃𝚎𝚊𝚜𝚎

𝚙𝚊𝚒𝚛𝚒𝚗𝚐 | DI Alec Hardy x female reader 𝚜𝚞𝚖𝚖𝚊𝚛𝚢 | based on this request: Alec uses handcuffs (smut but it's sweet and soft) 𝚠𝚘𝚛𝚍 𝚌𝚘𝚞𝚗𝚝 | 1.1k 𝚠𝚊𝚛𝚗𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚜 | SMUT (DON'T READ if you're under 18!), a tiny bit of edging, handcuffs 𝚊𝚞𝚝𝚑𝚘𝚛'𝚜 𝚗𝚘𝚝𝚎 | my Alec Hardy sideblog is @bloodytwittah. I also write for Crowley (Good Omens) over at @stargazing-crowley 🖤

“Please.”

Your whisper fills the silence of the office, warm breath mingling with his as you arch into his touches, his kisses, chasing every fleeting brush of his fingertips on your skin like it’s a lifeline and you’re caught in a storm.

Well, he is.

And you’ll happily drown in him, in the way his scent is engulfing you, the pine-needle smell of his cologne forever entangled with the ever-present salt in the air.

“Patience is a virtue,” Alec drawls, a quiet laugh painting his voice.

“And stalling is a vice,” you shoot back, but it comes out rather breathless.

Alec has spent what feels like an eternity kissing you, teasing you, fingertips brushing over all the sweet spots where you so desperately need him the most yet never lingering long enough to do anything but stoke your need for him further, letting you chase those fleeting touches nevertheless with growing despair. And impatience.

You can feel his erection pressing against your leg, the outline of it very visible beneath the navy fabric of his pants, but each time you wrap your legs around his waist to drag him closer, drag him right where you need him, he angles himself away from you with a soft, deep chuckle.

You discarded his tie a while ago, and his white dress shirt is undone, revealing his chest, the fine scar running over his sternum where they fixed his heart mere months ago, and the way his dark hair is messy and ruffled – not by the sea breeze for once but by your fingers – makes him look like he should be on the poster for some highly expensive perfume ad.

“We could consult Reverend Coates about the matter,” Alec chuckles softly now, his hot breath ghosting over the side of your neck, teeth grazing the sensitive skin on your pulse point, the soft scratch of his beard sending pleasant shivers up and down your spine.

Your own quip is swallowed by a string of moans as Alec’s fingers stop tracing circles on the inside of your thighs to wander higher, to the spot just above your clit, and you desperately roll your hips up to grind against his fingertips.

But the moans turn into a frustrated groan as he pulls his fingers out of reach once more.

“So impatient,” he breathes. You can feel his smile against your pulse point.

“Alec Hardy,” you tease softly, “Did I just catch you smiling?”

“Don’t tell anyone. Got a reputation to uphold.”

“And of course we wouldn’t want anyone at Broadchurch PD know you’re not as grumpy as you seem.”

“I am grumpy,” Alec quips with a whisper that sends a shiver of need through your body, “Just not when I’m with you.”

Butterflies soar in your chest at his words, and your fingertips in his hair tighten as you pull him into a searing kiss.

“Still. Payback’s gonna be a bitch,” you announce as you pull away just enough to catch your breath, eyes flitting to the clock on the wall over the closed door to his office. Ever since you’ve started dating Alec Hardy, nightly overtime hours have lost their unbidden-ness.

When Alec chuckles softly in response, resuming to map your throat with his lips knowing damn well what it’s doing to you, you feel your own grin curve your lips.

Two can play this game.

Still grinning, you untangle one of your hands from where you’ve been raking your fingers through his soft chocolate hair and let it roam down, underneath the skirt you chose this morning in the hopes it would come in handy later – and good lord, it does.

“What –“ Alec breathes, pulling away from your throat to stare at you, and your grin turns into a sultry smirk as your own fingers spread the wetness that’s been pooling between your thighs as you let your head fall back a little.

His eyes have been darkened by arousal before, but at your little performance, they’ve grown almost black now. It’s nearly enough to send you over the edge right then and there.

“I’m perfectly capable of finishing the job on my own,” you drawl, letting a lewd moan spill from your lips for effect as your fingertips start circling your clit.

It feels good.

It feels amazing.

It doesn’t feel half as amazing as it would if it were his fingers, though, and the cheeky expression on his handsome features tells you he knows that.

For a few moments, Alec stays where he is, eyes dark and devouring as he watches you, before he closes the few inches between the two of you with another searing kiss, his hands leaving your waist to gently grasp your wrists, pulling your hands away.

There’s no firmness in his grasp. If you wanted to, you could easily tear your hands out of his grip.

He’d never be rough with you. He’d never take control without asking for your permission first – Alec Hardy has never been anything but sweet and gentle with you.

Bantering has always been part of your relationship long before you let him into your bed, and it extends into every aspect of your relationship. Which is probably why sex with Alec Hardy is the best you ever had.

And which is probably one of the reasons why, despite his always-mildly-annoyed, grumpy exterior, it didn’t take long for you to fall for Alec Hardy in the first place.

As he gently pushes your hands behind your back, feverish kisses deepening, his clothed erection brushes against your core, and this time, it’s Alec who moans first, a deep, half-suppressed moan spilling from his throat as you roll your hips against him, desperate for more friction, for more of those sinful, sweet noises from him –

A soft click makes your eyes fly open to meet Alec’s smug little smirk.

“Oh no, you didn’t,” you gasp, eyes wide.

His grin turns even cheekier. “Yeah I did.”

The handcuffs he just closed around your wrists rattle softly as you test them, cool metal against your wrists.

“You’re under arrest,” Alec drawls, his Scottish accent growing thicker with his own arousal as he trails sloppy, feverish kisses down the side of your throat, over your collarbone, hands slowly unbuttoning your blouse to unveil the lacy black bra underneath telling him exactly what you were hoping for when you got dressed this morning, “For obstruction of police work.”

“Payback,” you breathe, arching into his kisses and unable to suppress a soft, breathless giggle, “Will be such a bitch, Alec Hardy.”

Your voice breaks as you watch him kneel before you, dark eyes sparking with arousal and affection and just the perfect amount of cheekiness as they hold yours.

He places a single, almost chaste kiss to the inside of your thighs before he breathes, “Then I better start making it up to you now.”

𝚒𝚏 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚎𝚗𝚓𝚘𝚢𝚎𝚍 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚕𝚒𝚝𝚝𝚕𝚎 𝚜𝚝𝚘𝚛𝚢, 𝚙𝚕𝚎𝚊𝚜𝚎 𝚌𝚘𝚗𝚜𝚒𝚍𝚎𝚛 𝚌𝚘𝚖𝚖𝚎𝚗𝚝𝚒𝚗𝚐/𝚛𝚎𝚋𝚕𝚘𝚐𝚐𝚒𝚗𝚐 - 𝚒𝚝'𝚜 𝚠𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚔𝚎𝚎𝚙𝚜 𝚞𝚜 𝚠𝚛𝚒𝚝𝚎𝚛𝚜 𝚐𝚘𝚒𝚗𝚐 🖤

[tinyalechardy]

AAAAAAAHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!

[denaliwrites]

Say You'll Remember Me (Denali's Version)

Alec Hardy x Bad Girl!Reader

Summary: If "whirlwind romance" were in the dictionary, next to its definition would be an image of you and Alec.

Soundtrack: Wildest Dreams by Taylor Swift

Requests: Open!

Warnings: Criminal Activity.

1995

It wasn't like Alec, going and falling in love with one of the people he was sworn to put away.

Yet as you were escorted into the station, all crimson smiles, all confidence, all sauntering hips and deep black leather, he couldn't help the way his heart skipped a beat.

(Little did he know how dangerous that would be for him if this had happened, oh, eighteen years into the future.)

And when your eyes danced across the room just to finally land on him -- tiny, scrawny little Alec Hardy -- oh, he knew he was done for. Not that he minded much... or at all.

Doing your intake was the highest honor that had, in his twenty-six years of life, been bestowed upon him.

"What'd they get a lass like you for?" he asked as he took your fingerprints, his hands surprisingly gentle with your own.

"Defacement," you replied simply with a smirk.

"Of?"

"Churchill's grave."

"Oh," he said, too stunned to move or speak for a moment. It passed quickly, and he resumed his work as if nothing had happened. "One of those counter-culture types, then."

You laughed at that, and it was the most beautiful sound he'd ever heard. He could listen to it forever.

"Something like that," you said once your laughs died down. "I'm not big on the punk scene, though."

"Really?" he asked, looking up at you before quickly looking back down. "You look like you'd fit right in with that lot."

"What can I say? They've got a good look."

He hummed in response, then the two of you fell into silence as he continued processing you.

Once he was done, he escorted you to a cell and guided you in by the waist. You said nothing, but the look you sent him and the smile on those bloodstained lips let him know that you knew -- and you liked it.

The gesture was so small, so insignificant, and yet he couldn't believe he'd done it.

Somewhere in the back of his mind, he wondered about the power dynamics, and if he was abusing what little power he had in this situation. Then he decided that any power he had -- you granted him, and could easily take away if you wanted.

This suspicion was only confirmed upon your release. He was the one to open the cell -- he made sure of it -- and as you passed you winked at him and slipped him a piece of paper. Where you'd gotten it, or a pen, he had no idea, but when he looked at it at the privacy of his desk there definitely was a phone number written on it, as well as a kiss mark from your lipstick.

Oh, how devilish of you.

He called the number that night, and honestly half expected anyone else to answer. Maybe even no one.

Instead, your heavenly voice drifted down the line. "Took you long enough," you said lightly into his ear, and it took every ounce of control he had over his body to keep breathing.

"I had work," he protested, just as lightly.

"A poor excuse. Do you normally keep girls waiting like this?"

"Only the naughty ones."

Wow, he couldn't believe he'd just said that.

"So it's a punishment?" you said with a laugh.

The note of danger in that angelic sound sent a thrill down his spine. "If it is?"

"I'd like to see you try," you said, still laughing.

He wouldn't. He couldn't imagine it, frankly. Though he could imagine you punishing him, and he, much to his surprise, rather liked the idea.

The hell were you doing to him?

"Do you have a place to stay?" he asked.

"I have a phone number, don't I?"

Oh. Right. That you did.

"Would you like to stay at mine anyway?"

You hummed thoughtfully. "Stay with a random cop I only just met yesterday?" you asked teasingly. "What could possibly go wrong?"

"I promise I won't kill ye," he said quickly, fearfully.

"I know," you said. "You couldn't even if you wanted to."

He gave you his address, anyway, and then the conversation lulled and, rather suddenly, you hung up.

"That was rather rude," he mused.

You arrived just as he set his plate down on the table.

Answering the insistent knocking upon his door, he didn't expect to see you, yet there you stood. You were gorgeous as ever, with wild hair tumbling over your shoulders, no doubt whipped to a frenzy by a car's open windows, and lips as red as they were the moment he'd first laid eyes on you.

"Oh," he said, blinking. "You... came?"

"Well, you did invite me," you said, grinning.

"That I did," he said, and stepped aside so that you could enter. He closed the door behind you and followed you as you took a few exploratory steps deeper into the flat. "Have you eaten?" he asked as he passed you to return to the kitchen.

"No," you replied simply, looking around his kitchen curiously, as if you couldn't believe he actually lived here.

"Well, help yourself." He motioned to the pot on the stove as he sat down.

You must've noticed he wasn't eating -- he noticed the look of realization, the way you hurried to fill a plate and sit down beside him.

Your eyes met, and he smiled at the hint of a blush on your cheeks.

"I hope you don't expect me to say grace," you said to break the silence that had built around the two of you.

"Oh, goodness no," he replied.

"So you're waiting for me."

"Of course." You were the one in charge here, after all. Well, to him you were, at least.

You took a bite and he followed suit, and the two of you ate in amicable silence.

The rest of the night Alec spent discovering all the ways he could make you tick.

1996

Alec had never had a roommate before, let alone one who found themselves in jail as frequently as you did.

He had had girlfriends before, but you were the first one he hesitated to introduce to his parents -- it wasn't that he didn't love you, it was that he wasn't sure his poor mum would survive meeting you. She was a bit traditional, and you were anything but.

Unfortunately, the universe didn't agree with him.

You were home alone, recovering from a hangover when his mother dropped in unannounced -- and about had a heart attack at the sight of you, with all your leather and spikes, and what a "traditional" woman might say was a scandalous amount of makeup.

"Who are you, then?" Mrs. Hardy asked, because you couldn't possibly be Alec's girlfriend.

You were sensible not to immediately correct that assumption, instead simply offering your name before wandering to the kitchen and popping some painkillers.

"And what are you doing here?" she pressed.

"Oh, I live here."

"Does my boy need help with the rent?" she asked, mostly herself -- at least, you were pretty sure she wasn't asking you. "Enough that he'd seek help from..."

"Hmm?" you prompted in amusement, leaning your hip against the counter.

"Well, someone of your profession. Of course."

"What profession would that be?"

"You know," she said conspiratorily.

"Ma'am," you said with a biting laugh, "I work at the pub down the street."

She looked like she wanted to say, no, that's not right, you couldn't possibly be anything but a prostitute. She must've thought better of it, though.

Alec, blessedly, chose that moment to walk in the door.

You could see on his face, the moment he saw his mother, that he almost considered walking right back out.

Instead, he said "Mum!" and pulled the woman into an embrace. "I see ye've met my girlfriend."

You watched as several decidedly not great emotions passed over her features, before she settled on disbelief. "But... darlin', she's..."

You and Alec both stared at her as she struggled to find a delicate way to say it.

"Isn't she a little... bold, for you?" she asked. You had to admit, that was better than you expected.

"That's why I like her," Alec answered, pulling you into a side hug and kissing your cheek. You giggled and instinctively pulled him into a proper kiss, which he happily returned.

"Well... if ye say so..."

1997

The goal had never been to tame you or cage you, and the longer your relationship lasted the more he saw how ill-fitted to domesticity you were.

He didn't want to admit it, of course. He would've been happy to spend the rest of his life with you.

But he loved you, and he could see just how miserable you were living in the same little flat, going to the same boring job every day, talking to the same boring people and having the same boring sex with the same boring partner, day after day, for years.

You'd always been a troublemaker, it was one of the things he'd first learned about you, and it was one of the first things he'd fallen in love with.

For a while, at the start of the relationship, you'd put in effort not to get into trouble. For him, mostly, but he suspected you also had a genuine desire to turn a new leaf.

But you got bored. And when you were bored, you lashed out.

It was at a point now where Alec thought you probably spent more time in a cell than in his bed.

It broke his heart, that you couldn't be happy with him. But it broke his heart more that he'd unwittingly tried to break you, when he should've released you back into the wild. Hell, he never should've captured you at all.

"I want you out," he said one night.

"... out?" you asked, stunned. Confused. Lost. Hurt.

"I can't do this anymore," he said with a sigh. "The constant stints in jail, the drugs, the drinkin'. It's too much. So you need to leave."

"But..."

"No. You need to leave. That's the end of it. You have a week to sort out another place to stay, but then ye've gotta go. Even if it means ye gotta live on the streets."

It killed him inside that he could see a tiny glimmer of relief in your eyes.

And when he got home from work the next day, you were gone.

2004

Honestly, Alec hadn't expected to run into you again. Ever.

Yet as he walked Daisy through the park, there you were, circling the playground like a lion stalking its prey. There was only one child playing there, screaming gleefully as he sped down the slide. You hovered for a moment, watching vigilantly, before continuing your path around the jungle gym.

You looked... stressed. But happy.

Daisy tore her hand out of his and ran for the boy, no doubt eager to make a friend.

He watched as you realized there was an incoming missile in the form of a little girl, your eyes on his daughter as she neared. You eased the moment you realized it was just a kid coming at your... son? Yet you kept an eye on her, easily adopting the role of guardian for her even though she was a strange child who had, by all accounts, appeared out of nowhere.

He slowly made his way over, his eyes never leaving you. He saw, in rapid succession, your expression change from casual, to realization, to deer in the headlights, to flighty panic.

Yet you were stuck -- whoever this child was, you couldn't leave without him, and he was playing with Daisy in a section it'd be near impossible for you to reach before Alec reached you.

And reach you he did.

He said your name, the first time in years, and you closed your eyes at the sound of it. No doubt willing him to vanish.

"Hey."

It was the best he could've hoped for, honestly.

"You look well," he said, before his attention shifted to the kids. "Is he...?"

"God, no," you said with a nervous laugh. "Please. Me, with a kid? That'd be a disaster. No, he's, er... my friend's kid. I'm babysitting for the day while she's visiting her mum."

"Never really took ye to be a kid person."

"There's a lot about me you never really got the chance to learn."

"That's fair," he replied, watching the kids run around the swingset in a game of tag.

"Why did you do it?" you asked after a few moments of silence. "The real why, not the one you gave me that day."

He didn't want to answer that.

"The reason I gave you that day was the real reason."

"Don't -- don't you fucking dare," you hissed, turning to him. "Why lie?"

Because he knew if he'd told you the truth, you never would've gone. Never would've saved yourself.

"I didn't. I'm not. I was so tired of it all."

"And now?"

"And now I'm married with a kid."

He saw a brief flash of hurt in your eyes -- it was a life you never could've given him. Not for any lack of ability, but you both knew that if you'd somehow miraculously allowed yourself to carry to term, you probably would've walked out eventually. The domestic life just wasn't for you. It would've driven you crazy.

He could see that, just in the brief time he'd been watching you with your friend's kid. You were watchful -- perfectly diligent, perfectly protective... but he could see you itching to do just about anything else instead.

"How have you been?" he asked, pulling himself as well as you out of the thoughts circling in your heads.

"Good," you replied simply, at first. After a moment of thought, you added, "I took up a job in a school. Pays better than the pub."

"His age?"

"Yeah. I see him, sometimes."

"D'ye ken Daisy?"

"Your daughter?"

He nodded.

"I think she's familiar, but I'm sure if she actually were a student at my school I would've run into you sooner."

"Nah, my wife does all the school stuff. Tess, her name is."

"It rings a bell, actually."

"Eh? Small world."

The conversation drifted a bit from there, hitting on a few topics before you plucked up your now exhausted six-year-old charge and carried him home for naptime.

2008

Whoever you thought you might run into at an underground rave, Alec Hardy absolutely did not make the list.

Yet, he was unmistakable.

"Hey babe," you shouted into his ear with a grin, your body moving closer to him in time with the pounding beat of the music playing overhead. "I was wondering where you'd gone!"

"What are you on about? I don't know ye--"

Realization dawned in his eyes, and your grin widened. The last thing he saw before you pulled him into a kiss was a flash of danger in your eyes.

"What the hell?" he all but shouted into your lips.

"Play along, dumbass," you said instead of answering.

He seemed to get the hint, though. He was stiff at first as his hands circled your hips, but the two of you quickly fell back into whatever chemistry you'd had thirteen years ago and he loosened up.

You continued to dance, body grinding against his.

He was still, simply holding you, and when you looked up you saw nothing but adoration in his eyes.

"What?" you asked with a confused smile.

"I wish I'd gotten to see this side of you," he said. "This is how you should've been."

"Coked out?"

"Free."

Several emotions flitted over your face, eventually landing on heartfelt appreciation. "So that's why you broke up with me."

"Yes," was all he said. It was all you needed.

"Why didn't you just say that?"

"Ye would've given up yer freedom 'cause you would've thought that's what I wanted ye to do."

He was right.

"Thank you, Alec," you said quietly, and if not for the tender kiss he placed on your forehead, you would've thought your words lost to the blaring music.

You had to admit, he played the role of "boyfriend" well.

Too well.

It was rather funny, you thought, that he was confused for a patron and arrested along with you.

"I'm never gonna live this down," he moaned into his knees.

"Shut up," you told him with a laugh. "You'll be fine. Officer!" you called, waving your non-cuffed hand to get one of the arresting officers' attention. "Officer, can I get leave from these cuffs to run to the restroom?"

"Can't you hold it?" a gruff voice asked.

"Well, I could try, but then you'll be responsible for all the blood I leave behind."

You had to bite back laughter at the disgusted face the cop made. "Fine, but he stays with you," he said, motioning to Alec.

Alec, to his benefit, didn't protest.

You happily bounced up from the floor, dragging Alec along with you, and made your way to the restroom.

Inside was empty and quiet.

"Oh, this is gonna be a problem," you said thoughtfully.

"If there's anything I can do to help, I'll do it," Alec said, and you were struck by how genuine he was. After all this time, he still loved you -- enough to help you change your tampon, even.

"Oh, that was a lie," you reassured him. "I'm not on my period."

"Then... what are we doing in here?" he asked, looking around like the answer might be written somewhere.

"Busting out, duh."

"Oh, you've gotta be kidding me -- I can't get arrested twice!"

"Yeah, that's why we won't be caught."

He dropped his face into his free hand, and you laughed. Quietly.

"C'mon, Hardy. Help me. You said you would."

"Yeah, when I thought ye needed help takin' care of yer period. I did not agree to help ye evade arrest!"

"Isn't it your career on the line, here?" you asked casually, as you eyed the bathroom window.

You heard a grunt behind you. "Ye always were tricky, weren't ye?"

"Like a fox, babe," you agreed.

He moved to stand beside you, looking at the window thoughtfully. "It should have a hatch release," he said, even though neither of you had found one.

"Could it be... subtle?" you asked. "Like a... tiny button?"

"To open a window?"

"I was hoping we wouldn't need to smash it."

"Sorry, but no such luck."

"Fuck. Okay."

You pulled him close to you, hands working quickly to undo the buttons of his shirt.

"I hardly think now's the time for sex," he gasped. "They'll come lookin' for us any moment."

"Yeah, it also won't help us break the window. You know what will, though? A fist, wrapped up in your shirt."

He really was such a dumbass, sometimes.

Once you got to the sleeve of his cuffed arm, together the two of you made quick work of making the necessary tears to get the shirt off completely.

Alec started wrapping the remains of his shirt around his balled fist, but your hands on his stilled him.

"Let me," you said.

"Now's not the time to be a hero," he replied.

"Please."

"Why?"

"If I get injured, I'm the one who broke the glass. I'm the one who gets in trouble. Your career won't be on the line."

"I'll still have let ye do it."

"Please, there's no 'letting' me do anything."

With that, he let you unravel the shirt from his hand and helped you wind it around yours. Then he double-checked it, and triple-checked it.

"When you're ready," he said after his last inspection.

Without hesitation, you punched a hole in the glass, then started knocking the remains out of the sill.

"Have ye done this before?" he asked, impressed and concerned all at once.

"I will let you believe what you want to believe. Now, c'mon!"

The two of you crawled out of the freshly broken window and ran off into the night, laughing and hand-in-hand.

You were lucky that the shop clerk didn't ask questions or call the police as you and Alec, still cuffed together, stepped up to the counter with a small haul.

Alec, ever the responsible one between you two, held a bottle of water, some painkillers, a sports drink, a protein bar, and your favorite candy.

You, ever the partier, held a bottle of beer and an energy drink.

You paid with the banknotes stashed in your bra and carried your haul out into the night.

The two of you walked a ways before finding a park. You dragged Alec over to the swings with a giggle and happily sat in one. He sighed and rolled his eyes, but sat in the swing next to you anyway.

"You're a right menace, y'ken that?" he groaned.

"It's one of my most charming features," you argued, smirking as you popped your beer open and took a sip.

"Why'd ye kiss me?" he asked, staring out over the park.

You shrugged. "The only way you'd ever end up at a rave is if you were undercover or it was some kind of sting operation -- which meant there were dangerous criminals around, and -- I'm sorry, but you do not blend in."

"So you gave me a cover."

"It was that or get stabbed. I'd like to think kissing me isn't as bad as the alternative."

"It was rather unexpected," he said, but you could see him fighting back a smile.

"Speaking of unexpected, when were you gonna tell me you have a key to these cuffs?"

"Oh, never," he said with a laugh.

"Alec Hardy," you said with a dramatic gasp. "Are you arresting me?"

"I could do," he teased, yanking his arm, with enough strength to send you reeling. Instead, though, you were able to catch yourself and swung to face him instead.

When your swing came close enough to his, his legs caught yours and kept you in place while his lips crashed into your own in a bit of a rough -- but sweet -- kiss.

"Alec Hardy," you said again, breathlessly.

He whispered your name into your lips, and you realized it had never sounded as lovely as it did coming from him.

"I love you," you whispered back, and he pulled away to stare longingly, lovingly into your eyes.

"It's not just the coke or booze talkin'?"

"Does it matter if it is? Even if I were completely sober... what could we do? Date again? Get married? You know I'd rather die than settle down."

He did. It was the whole reason he'd let you go.

"What we can do," he started, pulling you into a gentle kiss, "is get ye somewhere safe and comfortable to sober up."

"Your place?" you questioned with a grin.

"Exactly," he responded, and you felt his own smile against your lips. "And then, once yer sober, we can... talk."

With that, the two of you (reluctantly) parted, and Alec led you away into the glimmering city.

No real talking was had for the week you spent at Alec's flat. Sure, words were exchanged, like "What should we have for dinner?" or "What time should I expect you home?" But for the most part, the two of you didn't talk so much as... moan each other's names in a near-constant state of ecstasy.

And boy, did you get great use out of those cuffs.

2013

Of course you'd heard about the Sandbrook case -- even when you and Alec weren't talking, the two of you still kept tabs on each other.

He'd sent you an email when your aunt died. You'd sent him a text when his mum was diagnosed with cancer (luckily, she was fine now, and you'd sent him a text when she'd gone into remission, too).

All that to say that you knew. About the case, sure, but more importantly, about how devastated he was over it. A text wouldn't do. Hell, even a call wouldn't do.

Last you'd heard, he'd relocated to some coastal town called Broadchurch.

So you followed him there.

You hadn't been expecting a murder investigation when you pulled into town, but it was the only thing anyone was talking about, nor were you expecting to organically run into Alec mere minutes after arriving, yet in he walked as you were grabbing a coffee.

"What're you doin' 'ere?" he asked, completely baffled.

The woman beside him looked... well, equally confused. Maybe more? You and Alec just had a habit of running into each other. For her, this was new.

"I heard about Sandbrook," you said simply.

He sighed dramatically, pinching the bridge of his nose. "I don't have time for ye right now."

Ouch.

"Just -- go get set up in the hotel. I'm stayin' there, I'll... I'll see ye." With that, he waved you away. Dismissed you like a dog.

Hmph.

You did get yourself set up in the hotel, of course, but you took your sweet time getting there. There was plenty to do in the town, though the constant mistrustful stares set you a bit on edge.

It was about six when you finally went and got yourself a room, and about ten when you heard a gentle rapping at your door.

"I'm sorry about earlier," was the first thing Alec said as you swung the door open.

You looked him over, now that you had the chance -- he looked haunted, haggard. Sleepless...

"Oh, Alec," you sighed, drawing him into an embrace. He melted into you, holding you tight. "I'm sorry. I should've been there."

"Nothin' ye could've done."

You knew that, of course, and you knew your presence alone wouldn't have chased away that haunted look in his eyes, just as it wasn't doing now, but... you wished it could. You wished it were that easy.

He parted from you with a shaky breath, his eyes rimmed with unshed tears.

And then he yanked you into a desperate kiss.

You didn't protest, and in fact returned it. Neither of you parted as he pushed you back into the room and toed your door shut, nor as the back of your knees hit the bed and you nearly collapsed.

He caught you, held you impossibly close, fingered the hem of your shirt in a silent bid for consent.

You nodded, eagerly, and he made quick work of your clothes -- and you.

You weren't surprised how often Alec came to see you during the Latimer case (okay, maybe you were, a little).

You knew he was just using you for stress relief, but you didn't mind (much). You figured it was penance for being unable to help him during the Sandbrook case. You figured things would go back to normal once this new case was over.

Then the fucker went and had a heart attack or something.

So things returned to normal a bit quicker than you expected.

At least he apologized.

Things were a bit awkward at first once sex was taken off the table. Like the two of you didn't know how to do anything but fuck like rabbits. Eventually, though, you found a groove that worked.

Every night that he came "home," you had dinner, watched a movie, and talked about the bits of your lives you'd missed.

You told him where you'd gone after the breakup. He told you about meeting Tess and having Daisy. You told him about your trip to Tanzania. He told you about becoming Detective Inspector.

"Your life has been much more exciting than mine," he said one night as the two of you lay curled up together in bed.

"Maybe," you said with a shrug. "But you actually did something with yours."

"Naaaah," he growled, making you giggle. "Everyone's different... this is the path I was always gonna be on, and that's the path ye were always gonna be on."

"I guess we're lucky our paths keep crossing from time to time."

"I hope they do far into the future," Alec said with a yawn.

You giggled again. "Go to sleep, dumbass. You have a murder to solve."

"God, don't remind me."

2014

You could feel that Alec was at peace, for once.

Sure, Joe Miller had walked. But Alec knew he'd gotten the right man. And he'd solved the Sandbrook case -- finally gave that family justice and closure. Finally erased that blemish from his conscience.

The two of you celebrated in the only way you really knew how, by making love.

Leaving Broadchurch had always been the plan, for you. You'd stayed, because Alec had needed you to, but you never intended to stay anywhere permanently.

So why did it hurt so much when Alec told you he was leaving?

And why did it hurt so much when you watched his train rattle away?

2017

Alec kept the house in Broadchurch -- mostly for you. He knew you weren't a creature of habit, of settling down and growing roots, but he offered it as a sort of base of operations, with no strings attached. You'd taken the offer, simply because it felt like if you didn't, you'd never hear from him again.

Not that he contacted you anyway.

Until one day, when he'd called you to tell you he was moving back to Broadchurch and would need his house back. You were welcome to stay, he assured you, but he also made it seem like maybe you shouldn't. He was bringing his daughter with him, and she seemed to be in a difficult period of her life.

You wondered if Alec remembered how the two of you had met. Apparently not, given he thought his daughter being a troublemaker would bother you.

So you'd stayed, and they'd moved back in.

Things were tense at first, especially given his first big case upon his return, but eventually it all evened out. You even got on surprisingly well with Daisy, all things considered.

2018

You hadn't meant to stay. It had just sort of... happened. And you hadn't meant to fall back into a relationship with Alec. That had just sort of happened, too.

Yet... you were happy.

For the first time in your life, staying... wasn't so bad. You even thought you could rather do more of it. Maybe not a lot. But... some.

2019

You admired the glittering ring on your finger as reflected lights danced on the ceiling and walls of your tiny little home in Broadchurch.

Alec held you in his arms, and you had your legs draped over his lap. Some old black and white film played on the TV. It was dark and rainy. The night couldn't have been more perfect, even if he hadn't proposed to you on top of it all.

Eventually the two of you moved to your bed, and Alec held you impossibly close, his arms tight but tender around you.

"All I ask," he sighed sleepily, "is that if ye leave, ye always come home to me."

And come home to him you did.

[should-david-be-there]

it's not Blackpool or Broadchurch but it'll do

[doctorcrowleywho]

December 4.“Your hands are freezing!” ( Alec Hardy x reader)

25 Days of Ficmas - Day 4

“Your hands are freezing!” ( Alec Hardy x reader)  

Word count -   1369  

Warnings - A few cuss words and lots of fluff!

Pairing(s) - Alec Hardy x Gn! Reader

Summary - A cliche meeting makes Alec turn soft for you.

If there was one thing D.I. Alec Hardy was known for, it was being a Scrooge. It wasn’t that he hated Christmas or anything like that. Contrary to popular belief he loved the holiday, some of his favorite moments with Daisy were during Christmas time. There was nothing better than seeing his little girl's face light up as she opened up what ‘Santa’ dropped off for her the night before. 

However, what Alec did hate was how loud and bright everything was. Sure, you could have Christmas spirit, but why did people have to be so proud about it? That’s why he always decided to work during the holiday season. It just seemed easier. Crime never slept and neither did the worst cop in Britain. 

On the other hand, you absolutely loved the holiday season. Seeing everyone you loved so full of love and joy just made your heart swell. But, Christmas had been recently hard for you these last couple of years. You had moved to Broadchurch for a fresh start, and even though you got one it was just that…things were a bit different. Well different than you imagined. 

Everyone was so tightly knit, but that’s what you get for moving to a small town. There was even a time when some people even gave you the stink eye because they thought you moved there for the murder trial. Which, wasn’t true at all, but you try to convince a gossiping town.

You did manage to make a few friends though, which you were so thankful for. One of them- Ellie Miller was absolutely lovely. She made sure to bring you lunches during your shifts at the local coffee shop and told you all the gossip she could think of. Which, mostly was about her obnoxious boss Alec Hardy. 

In your opinion, Alec sounded like an absolute ass, and you haven’t even met him. And honestly, you hoped and prayed you never did. Because, if he can manage to annoy Ellie at times then he must be one insanely grouchy person. 

That night you had volunteered to stay late to decorate the coffee shop for Christmas. Apparently, no one else wanted to stay and help, so you were on your own. It was going pretty much how you expected it to. The radio was on full blast with Christmas tunes as you sang along stringing lights and putting silly little window stickers everywhere you could. 

The shop was looking cuter than it ever has in a million years (obviously you should know). Plus, if people were going to complain then they’d have to fight you. You quickly glanced at the time and cursed to yourself. How the hell was it suddenly ten at night? That means you’ve been there for nearly five hours after your already long shift. 

By this time of night, there was no way you were going to catch a bus, and you didn’t want to have to pay for an uber. So, you decided it was best if you walked back to your tiny home. Now, this wasn’t the ideal option, being it was absolutely freezing outside. But, you really didn’t have any other choice. 

Pulling on your winter coat you locked up the shop, braced for the cold, and headed on your way. Walking at night never exactly scared you, but knowing the history of this town you made sure your defenses were up. 

Maybe that's why you punched the stranger with whom you collided a couple of minutes after you left the shop. 

“Oi what was that for!” A thick Scottish accent hissed out rubbing his arm.

Alec always walked back to his home after work, he was used to working late. In fact, he found it strange if he ever was able to leave on time. But, that was typical Alec. An absolute workaholic until the end.

This night was a bit different because he forgot his jacket and it was absolutely bloody freezing outside. But, he had to tough it out unless he wanted to sleep at the office again, which he has done. Let me tell you, office carpet does not make a fantastic mattress. 

“Oh jesus, I’m sorry I thought you were,” you paused awkwardly realizing this guy wasn’t a threat in the slightest. Good job, you just punched an innocent stranger in the arm. “Just, ahem sorry.” You finally coughed out.

“Nope don’t worry- not a threat-just trying to walk home-which um if you’re this jumpy would you like me to walk ya home?” he got out in a series of awkwardness that you barely understood.  

Your eyebrows furrowed together as you considered this stranger's offer, he seemed sweet enough. To be fair he was quite handsome, the moonlight illuminated his face beautifully. He had soft messy brown hair, chocolate puppy dog eyes that seemed to hold the weight of the world, and a beard that looked scratchier than sandpaper. Your perfect man.

“Before I say yes to your tempting offer, can you first tell me your name?” You said giving him a gentle friendly smile. 

He hesitated for a moment, almost as if he didn’t like his name enough to tell anyone. But, he finally got it out “Alec, it’s Alec Hardy.” he said offering you his hand to shake. 

Hearing his name was all you needed to have your mouth fall to the floor. This was Alec? That wasn’t possible! The Alec you heard about was mean and stubborn and annoyingly grumpy. This man was kind and sweet and handsome (yes you admit it, you had eyes didn’t you?). 

“Alec? The same Alec Hardy that works with Ellie Miller?” You asked probably sounding a bit more excited than you ever should.

Alec raised an eyebrow eyeing you up and down. Not in a rude way more in an ‘I’m trying to figure you out’ kind of way.  “Yeah….why?” 

“Oh, she’s my friend! It’s nice to finally meet the man she talks so much about- I’m Y/N by the way,” you said smiling brightly as you finally took his hand that was still awkwardly out. “Your hands are freezing!” you gasped out immediately cupping both of his hands in your own, concern pooling in your eyes. 

Seeing you like this made Alec practically melt, who gave you the right to care this much? You guys just met, and maybe that’s what was so precious about it. The fact that you could find it in your heart to care for a stranger like this. 

It was at that moment Alec felt himself fall, just like all those romance books and movies Daisy watches. He used to pretend that the hated them, but deep down he wished he could find someone that made him feel all of those silly little butterflies. Perhaps he found it in you. 

“Forgot a jacket.” he chuckled simply as his gaze softened. 

“Oh in this weather? And you call yourself a detective?” you gave him a joking ‘are you crazy?’ look making him chuckle even more.

“Worst one in Britain I’m afraid.” he shook his head, and he didn’t dare remove his hands from yours. Not when they felt so right being there. 

Slowly, you gazed down at your hands. Now it was your turn for your heart to do flips. You gently took one of his hands and pulled his sweater sleeve over it creating a mitten of sorts. Then you took the other one and lace your fingers with his before guiding it into your jacket pocket. All the while he was staring at you with a look of dumbfounded adoration. 

“Not the best solution but at least you’ll warm up a little bit.” you laughed suddenly feeling a little awkward. 

“I like it,” he mumbled squeezing your hand gently. “, come on let's get you home.” he raised his eyebrows encouraging you to lead the way. 

“Right off we go then, Alec.” you glanced over at him as you two walked in comfortable silence. He gave you the softest smile somehow letting you know that he liked his name when it came from your lips. 

This was going to be a wonderful Christmas.

[lestatslestits]

You May Have My Precious Bones On My Return

Finishing @flashfictionfridayofficial with literally one minute to spare. I cannot overemphasize how un-proofread this is.

The prayer is taken from the Anglican Book of Prayer

Anyways.

After having Jocelyn Knight make up his will for him, Alec Hardy makes one more stop before going home.

Prompt:

By the time he reaches the vicarage he is so short of breath that he has to lean against the doorframe while he waits for his knock to be answered. Reverend Paul Coates is still hastily tying the belt on his robe when he opens the door. His hair is a nearly-blond cloud atop his head. He’s clearly been asleep.

To be fair, it’s two in the morning.

“Alec! What are you—bloody hell, you look wrecked.”

“Language,” Alec Hardy breathes the word out, unable to keep a hint of amusement from his voice. His knees start to give way underneath him and he feels his face tighten into an involuntary grimace. He’s dizzy, astoundingly so, but he hopes he’s got enough proprioception to keep from banging his head against the floor when he goes down.

Instead of hitting the ground, he’s caught in an ungainly manner by a pair of arms around his ribcage. This doesn’t make it easier to breathe.

“I’ve got you,” says a voice that sounds far too close. He feels the arms that are keeping him upright renegotiate their grip on him. Then he doesn’t feel anything.

*

He feels something cool against his left temple. When Alec forces his eyelids open, there’s a solemn and worried face peering down at him. Paul is sponging his face down with a damp cloth. “Are you with me again?”

“How long was I out?” Alec asks. He’s lying on a sofa inside of the vicarage. He makes an attempt to sit up but is forced back down with a hand on his shoulder.

“About three minutes. I’m going to ring for an ambulance.”

“No!” This tiny outburst is enough to leave him gasping for breath. He’s not making a strong argument for himself, he knows. “No ambulances. No hospital. I’m going in soon enough either way, but not tonight.”

“I think you ought to get checked over. Has this happened before?”

‘All the time’ is not an encouraging answer, so instead Alec says, “It’s chronic, yeah. Heart’s gone bad. Got an operation scheduled, got loose ends to tie up first.”

“Loose ends?” Paul is clearly unimpressed. Then he seems to process the intent behind those words and frowns. “You mean—“

“Will’s sorted. I’ve given evidence at the trial, said my piece. Couple more things to take care of, and then it won’t matter what happens.”

Paul looks like he wants to argue, but can’t think of anything to say. So instead he asks, “Does Ellie know?”

“I can’t tell her now. Not with the trial ongoing. She’ll worry, or worse: want to be there. She’s got enough on as it is.”

The reverend heaves an enormous sigh, but seems to understand that his hands are tied: he’ll have to hold this in strict confidence, whether he likes it or not. Alec thinks maybe it’s why he’s come all this way—the walk from Jocelyn’s house had felt like a death march, even with frequent stops in order to try to fill his lungs with enough air to keep up the pace. But Paul will feel obligated not to pass the information on, and he needs someone to know.

This probably isn’t what they mean by “confession.”

“Have you—um—“ the reverend trips over an inquiry that he has no tactful way to voice, “Have you come for absolution before…?”

He considers the question, unasked though it is. “Not really. With luck I’ll have absolved myself of my only regret by the time I go in. Suppose I just needed to say it all out loud. Jocelyn Knight’s done my will. She doesn’t know why. If something—well, just thought somebody ought to know.”

“Ellie ought to know.”

“She’ll find out afterwards. If not from me, then from someone.”

“Christ, you’re stubborn.”

“Are you allowed to say that?”

“I think the Almighty will make an exception when it comes to dealing with you,” Paul says. But he says it with the barest hint of a kind smile, then adds, “Listen, can I pray for you?”

Now it’s Alec’s turn to sigh. “Not sure I believe in it.”

“You don’t have to: I’m good at believing.”

“Alright then.” He watches as Paul bows his head and closes his eyes. He does not mirror the action, just studies the reverend with curiosity as he prays out loud, a supplication he’s clearly committed to memory.

“Almighty God, our heavenly Father, graciously comfort your servant Alec in his suffering, and bless the means used for his cure. Though at times he may be afraid, fill his heart with confidence that he may yet put his trust in you; through Jesus Christ our Lord. Amen.”

“Amen,” Alec repeats without really meaning to. He bobs his head in silent gratitude as Paul looks up at him. “I should be on my way,” he says, and tries again to rise.

“Absolutely not. If you won’t let me call an ambulance, the least you can do is rest here until daylight. Then I’ll drive you back. I can’t let you wander off, it will keep me from sleeping. And as you know, I’ve already got insomnia.”

Alec agrees to these terms. Paul fetches him a blanket and a glass of water. He says to give a shout if he needs anything. Left alone in the dark and silence, the words of the reverend’s prayer ricochet in his brain and make him uneasy. When he can’t lie still any longer he gets up and paces the floor like a caged animal as minutes tick into hours.

*

When Reverend Paul Coates awakens several hours later, he finds that Alec Hardy has already slipped out of the vicarage and towards whatever awaits him in the coming days. He sighs, lifts another prayer up to Heaven, and prepares to begin his day.

[threehours-aday]

hiya, folks!

i'm not new to tumblr, but i might be new to you, so here's a tiny bit 'bout myself:

i go by minee (pronounced the same as meanie) but you can also call me min, allie, or plainly alex

you may find me on social as alexander phung, which is my pen name, but i don't actually like being referred to by that

i am still underage at this moment, so no nsfw contents (and no sex jokes, if you may; i've had quite enough of those)

my fandoms: mcu, broadchurch, x-men (film series), good omens, wilde (1997), sherlock holmes (downey films), sherlock (bbc), harry potter

my favourite artists/actors so we can hype together: james mcavoy, benedict cumberbatch, jude law, michael sheen, david tennant, tom hiddleston, robert downey jr., anya taylor-joy, bitter ruin (band), exo (boy band), seventeen (boy band), billie eilish, finneas, lorne balfe

i love rice because i am asian, but i eat more pasta than rice tbh

i was one of those twelve-year-olds on wattpad

i don't take requests

i adore some pairings more than others:

mcu: stuckony, ironstrange/strangeiron, frostiron, pepperony, clintasha, black pepper, strike team delta, spideypool

broadchurch/masters of sex: bill masters/alec hardy, alec hardy/ellie miller

x-men: cherik, cherigan, jeanororo

good omens: ineffable husbands, vinylatte, ineffable bureaucracy

wilde (1997): robbie ross/john gray

sherlock holmes/sherlock: johnlock, mystrade

harry potter: drarry, dramione, krumione, pansmione, blairon

i also have some no-goes:

mcu: st*rker, iron w*tch

x-men: ch*ven, max*cest, myst*to

harry potter: lup*rry, h*rbus, h*rrius

sherlock: h*lmescest

list of my works by fandom and language

1, broadchurch/masters of sex

of unburnt toast and unmicrowaved tea (🇬🇧)

no more apples (🇬🇧)

frigid (pull me down) (🇬🇧)

2, marvel cinematic universe

series: the things i let die (and what else i find) (🇬🇧)

needles and pinches

child in a seacave (cold, cold, cold)

beware (it's heading our way)

nếu mai này mình không thức giấc (🇻🇳)

3, wilde (1997)

smitten (loved) (🇬🇧)

4, good omens

angel (🇬🇧)

5, x-men (film series)

antartica (🇬🇧)

6, sherlock

demolished (🇬🇧)

7, original works

tối qua lạnh một ý thơ nhạt nhoà (🇻🇳)

give me love, give me pain (🇻🇳)

yours (🇬🇧)

enquiry of us (🇬🇧)

trên bờ sóng vỗ (🇻🇳)

[ofpineapplesanddawns]

Could you do falling asleep to your partner's heartbeat with Alec and the partner of your choice?

Let's go with the Vardy au! I haven't written for it in ages.

For new people, this is the au where Hardy is a vampire and is with Lucian.

On with the fic!

--

The night was calm and that made Hardy happy, because it meant he didn't have to get out of bed. Plus, he was sure he left his phone in the living room.

He sighed softly, moving in bed, resting his head on Lucian's chest. The lycan was sleeping soundly, an arm loosely holding Hardy close to him. Lucian was warm, which was great for a vampire like Hardy, it was comforting.

He shifted a bit, and could hear the man's heart beating, it was just a little faster than a human's own, but probably because of his nature it was better that way. He quietly listened to Lucian's heart, closing his eyes, finding himself relaxing...

But when he opened his eyes, he realized the world looked much bigger, stranger.

Ah, it seems he turned into a bat.

He looked towards Lucian, who was clearly still asleep, not having any idea that his boyfriend was tiny and cute. He was about to change back into a man when he paused, resting his ear against Lucian's chest. His heartbeat was louder, and his body felt warmer like this.

He closed his eyes and decided to deal with things in the morning.

[tinyalechardy]

... little blighter was working when I got home. Does that mean he was up all night working!?!?!?! Do i ground him!?

[should-david-be-there]

david tennant w just a regular, completely normal, definitely not a stooge, audience member/hen party member/international tourist/loud snack eater/stalls row j seat 1 occupant

[castlesinchaos]

Pretty funky fresh that when told she has to assume the doctor is dead, Yasmin Khan, women who claims to love the doctor only as a friend, said “why? why must I assume that?” with the EXACT SAME intensity that Beth Latimer screamed “why must I accept it!” In the face of her most cherished ones death. Pretty cute. Pretty gay.

[anniviech]

He kept people in the belief that he was afraid of water - just so no one would ever guess him to be the weirdo who enjoys skinny-dipping at night, iin case he ever got spotted.

-- This is what happens when @cherazor playing Sims and telling me about it results in cracky head-canons. Yep.