15 Works by crisschen
Listing Works
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“Are you seeing anyone?” She asked.
Tim blinked. Silence.
“It’s just…” She continued “If I’m alone with a very handsome cop in my kitchen, I feel like I should know whether I’m getting myself into trouble.”
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The skin under his eye had gone dark and ugly, a bloom of violet and blue spreading across the hard plane of his cheekbone. The split at his upper lip was red and angry, the bruise on his other cheek shadowing half his face in a way that should have made him look rougher than he already did and somehow only made him look more painfully, unfairly handsome.
She wanted to fix all the hurt on his face, sure, but a darker, more selfish part of her liked the way he looked ruined for her. It was a messy, vibrating kind of love.
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The uniform worked like an architect, rebuilding him in right angles. It mapped out the geography of his shoulders with a cruel, buttoned-down precision that made her throat dry.
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Seven days. Seven full days since Tim's mother had arrived with her suitcases and her warm smile and her apparent plan to never, ever leave. And look, Lucy liked the woman. She did. Joy Bradford was kind and funny and not at all what Lucy might have expected from the tight, guarded way Tim treated his past. She made incredible French toast. She asked Lucy about her day and genuinely listened to the answer. She was a lovely houseguest.
She was also the reason Lucy hadn't been touched in a week and it was becoming a medical emergency.
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He looked up, and the tears started. His lip shook. He wiped his face roughly, like he was mad at himself for crying.
He was sixteen, broad shoulders, sharp jawline, starting to look more and more like Tim. But right then, with red eyes, blotchy skin, and fresh bruises, he looked like a kid again.
“Mom...”
That was all it took. One word, and Lucy knew. She saw it written all over him. Beneath the bruises, behind the fear. The truth he hadn’t wanted her to find out like this.
OR
When Lucy and Tim get a call from their teenager’s school about a fight, they brace for trouble, but nothing prepares them for the real reason behind their son’s outburst.
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Work’s been brutal, and Lucy’s been on edge all week. When it finally boils over, Tim’s the one who takes the hit. But he doesn’t leave, he listens. And in the quiet that follows, they figure out what they really mean to each other.
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His voice was almost reverent now. “Touch yourself.”
She froze.
“I…” she began, voice thin, already breaking.
She wasn’t used to this. Not being this exposed. Not being seen.
Tim caught her wrist when she hesitated, not cruel but firm, and guided her hand between her thighs. “Now,” he ordered, voice low and sharp. “I said touch yourself.”
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She didn’t want to move. Didn’t want to break the moment. But her voice betrayed her, slipping out in a whisper.
“What are we doing?”
Tim’s breath hitched, and he leaned back just far enough to meet her eyes. His voice was low, honest. “I don’t know.”
(Prompt fill from Tumblr: Chenford rewrite of 4x22 where Tamara doesn't come home)
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Post 7x18 - Lucy is awake!!
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They walked in silence, their steps naturally syncing. Tim broke it with a smirk. “So. This just proves you’re the best rookie I’ve ever trained.”
Lucy laughed softly. “You’re right, it does,” she said. The words came easy.
But under the surface, something deeper stirred. Pride. Gratitude. A warmth she couldn’t name.
Then she said it. The words were right there, pressing against her tongue.
“But am I your favourite?”
OR
a post-7x17 continuation because I needed more
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He took a breath, like he’d been holding it all morning. Like saying it out loud might change everything.
“I want real walls, Lucy. Ones that keep the world out. I want to wake up next to you in silence, just us. No interruptions, no intrusions.”
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There was something in the set of his mouth, not quite a smirk, but close. Confident. Controlled. A look that didn’t chase or coax. It waited. Daring her to make the first move.
Lucy held his gaze across the table, utterly still.
OR
post 7x16 - what happened after the episode faded to black
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Across from her, Tim didn’t move. He didn’t speak. It was the kind of silence that didn’t press for words, but welcomed whatever truth might rise to meet it.
“I’ve been going to therapy, y’know?”
a continuation of the conversation had at the end of 7x16
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For a second, she just held it there, letting the heat of her palm soak in. Then her fingers began to move, soft at first, slow little circles meant to tease, but he didn’t react. Not even a flicker. He was too deep in the game, laser-locked on whatever was happening on the screen to notice the pressure building just beneath her touch.
That’s when she knew. He wasn’t going to stop her.
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Lucy: What are you doing tonight?
Tim: Call of Duty. Why? -
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7x18 synopsis - Lucy and Tim learn to adapt to her new schedule
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Lucy’s first full week as a Sergeant leaves her exhausted, furious, and desperate to remind Tim exactly where he belongs, under her, inside her, and never too far away.