#sergeant hank voight

[chicago-pd-is-weird]

Hank Voight x Fem!Reader - Pt. 1

Request for @maximeseveridecasey - I hope you like it! Part 2 coming soon.

Synopsis: Reader is a bartender at Molly's with a boyfriend who is bad news. Hank Voight is investigating the case, but soon becomes smitten with her.

TW: Reader is victim of abuse

You were tending the bar at 2PM on a Friday. You weren’t sure why the bar was open that early, seeing as the only customers you had were the old men and day drinkers who had nothing better to do. Herman, however, seemed convinced that it was bringing in enough revenue. You didn’t mind, so long as you got a paycheck. You were saving money so you could leave Chicago, and moreover, leave your boyfriend.

It was getting hard to hide the bruises from Herman, Otis, and Gabby. You often wore long sleeves despite it being summertime, and the makeup had on often sweat off in the middle of rush hour, revealing the bruises on your neck and face. If anyone asked, you quickly made up an excuse and changed the subject.

Your thoughts were broken by the little bell ringing as the door opened. A man in his mid-fifties walked in and looked around. You figured it was another day drinker, or one of those people who stopped in because they were meeting up with someone. Nevertheless, you walked over as he sat at the bar. “Hey there, what can I get you?” You smiled.

He hummed, looking you over, then set something on the bar. “Guess.” He pulled his hand away, leaving a badge in its wake.

You looked at him when you heard his unique voice. He sounded like he smoked eight packs a day, yet he didn’t smell like smoke. You glanced at the badge, then sighed, turning and grabbing two shot glasses, putting one in front of him, and one in front of you. Then, you grabbed your liquor of choice and poured two shots. “On the house.” You took your glass and held it up. The man seemed intrigued, but matched you, clinking your glasses together before you both took a shot. “What can I do for you, sergeant?”

He laughed, looking at you as he set the glass back down. “Do you know me or something?”

You shook your head, putting one finger on the star still sitting on the bar. “It says so on your badge. Dead giveaway. Should’ve used someone else’s.” You shrugged and took care of the glasses and liquor before leaning down on the counter, a cocked eyebrow. “What do you need?”

“Do you know Gregory Sanders?”

You stopped at the name of your boyfriend. You sighed deeply, standing straight again and grabbing a cloth to wipe off the bar. It wasn’t dirty, but you wanted to busy yourself. “I don’t think you’d be here if I didn’t.”

“I guess you’re right.”

“You still haven’t introduced yourself, Sergeant.”

A corner of his mouth pulled him to smile. “Hank Voight.”

“(Y/N) (L/N),” you replied, not looking up as you obsessively found something to do with your hands.

“So, tell me about Greg.”

“What do you want to know?”

Hank watched you struggle to find something to do, seemingly amused. “What does he do for work?”

You scoffed. Considering your boyfriend was a full-time gun dealer, it almost made you laugh. “Nothing. I bring the paychecks.”

“Yeah? That might be true to an extent, but you should see his bank statements.”

“I have nothing to do with that.”

“That’s not what I asked… Besides, it’s not you I want. But I could arrest you and bring you in for drinking on the job.”

You scoffed again, rolling your eyes and leaning down on the bar again to look into his eyes. “You could. But you can’t charge me with anything. Go ahead, I’m sure my bosses will be ecstatic that I have to close the bar because of you. Just make sure your house doesn’t catch on fire anytime soon if you do take me in.”

“Right, because this is the firefighter bar?” Hank hummed. “I know those firefighters. I’m sure I could smooth things over.”

“You said your name is… Voight?” You laughed softly when he nodded. “I doubt that. They kind of hate you.”

Hank matched your amusement, chuckling as he pulled a card out of his jacket. “Maybe that’s true too. You’re pretty smart, I’ll give you that.” He slid the card over to you on the bar, then grabbed his badge and clipped it back to his belt. “Find me if you feel like talking.”

With that, he got up and left the bar. You looked down at the card, which was his business card. Taking it, you put it in your jeans pocket just as someone else came up to the bar. You looked up, but frowned when you saw it was Greg himself. You walked over and grabbed his beer of choice. You hated it when he drank, since his tab usually came out of your paycheck. You set it in front of him after opening it. “Hey baby,” you said softly. “What’s going on?”

“Who was that?” He asked. “Travis told me a cop was here.”

“Yeah he was a cop,” you replied with a shrug. “A lot of cops hang out at this bar. It’s owned by firefighters. First responders are all a club.”

“A sergeant?”

You scoffed. “So? Just means he’s allowed to day drink more than the foot patrols.”

He grabbed your arm, squeezing it tightly, right where he had left bruises previously. You gasped and let out a small yelp in pain but couldn’t escape his strong grip. “Shit, that hurts, Greg,” you whispered as your body contorted in an effort to escape him.

“What the hell did you tell him?”

“Nothing, I swear! He came in, asked about you, and I told him I have nothing to do with whatever you do on a daily basis. That I work to support us both!”

Greg squeezed harder, then finally let go, making you recoil and rub your aching arm. You bit your lip as tears brimmed your eyes.

“You better not talk to the cops. You know what will happen.”

“I know,” you whispered.

Greg took a deep swig of his beer before getting up and leaving, Travis leaving with him. You sighed, grabbing the still-full beer and swigging some yourself before putting it below the counter to drink later.

—

When work got out, things really ramped up at the bar. You got busy. Greg didn’t hang out when the bar was busy, because there were so many cops around. You started to sweat again, especially due to the long sleeve and pants you were wearing, rolling up your sleeves to reveal the fresh bruises in an attempt to cool yourself. Nevertheless, your makeup betrayed you and once again showed off the bruises on your neck and your cheeks. You wanted to get to the bathroom to touch it up, but not before Sylvie and Stella caught you. The two looked you over with a frown.

“(Y/N), who does this to you?” Sylvie asked.

“Nobody,” you replied quickly. “I’m just clumsy, you know?” You quickly poured them another shot of whatever they were drinking.

“Come on, (Y/N), there’s twenty cops in this bar who would be happy to help you,” Stella protested.

You sighed and shook your head. “Stella, Sylvie, I appreciate your concern, but I’m fine.”

“Whoever you’re protecting isn’t worth it if they do this to you. They won’t hurt you if you tell us,” Stella protested.

You scoffed. Of course, Greg would hurt you if he ever found out. He would probably kill you. You shook your head and walked away from them to tend to someone else at the bar.

“Hey, (Y/N),” Erin said with a smile as she walked up with Jay. You knew the two pretty well, as they were there with the normal crowd most nights.

“Hey Erin, Jay,” you nodded to each of them. “What’s the choice tonight?”

“Just beer,” Jay said with a smile.

“Coming right up.” You grabbed two beers and popped them open, setting them in front of the two. “Let me know if you need anything else.”

“Actually,” Erin said, reaching out to take your hand. She didn’t want to touch your bruises, so she pulled you gently by the hand to come closer. “You okay?”

You sighed. “Yes, I’m fine. We have this conversation a lot, don’t we?”

“You have new bruises a lot,” Jay replied softly. “We’re just making sure you’re alright.”

“I’m clumsy,” you said with a shrug. “Besides, one of your cop buddies came around today.”

“Yeah?” Erin asked.

“A sergeant,” you replied. “Voight, I think was his name. I guess he’s investigating someone. Thought I had something to do with it. Threatened to arrest me, too.”

Jay and Erin looked at one another, then Jay swigged his beer. Erin hummed and looked back at you. “Voight is our boss. He’s the guy who practically raised me.”

You took a sharp breath. You’d just wanted to change the subject. Now you didn’t want to talk at all. “Sorry I said anything,” you said softly. “I don’t want to get in the way of your investigation.”

“(Y/N), we’re investigating Greg Sanders. You were identified as someone on his contacts list.”

You sighed. “Like I told Voight, he’s my boyfriend, but I don’t have anything to do with whatever he does. All I know is I work when the bar is open, and sleep most of the other time. Greg comes home sometimes to get his… fill. We have sex, I fall asleep then get up for work. That’s it.”

Jay looked up at you. He had those puppy dog eyes that could make the hardest person melt in an instant. “We think he’s pretty rough with you, considering the bruises. We just want to help you, especially if you don’t have anything to do with his… dealings.”

You shrugged and turned away as someone else came up to the bar, letting the conversation end there. You got busy again, filling and re-filling drinks, running and paying tabs, and keeping it as clean as possible.

.

When the bar finally closed for the night, you swept the floor and made sure everything was clean for the next day. It was Saturday, your day off. Christopher walked out from the back, handing you an envelope. You opened it and counted out enough to cover the tab your boyfriend had run up that week, which had been more than half of your paycheck. You sighed as you handed it to him. “For Greg’s tab.”

“You know, he should pay for his own drinks,” Chris said softly. “Is there a reason you’re still with this guy?”

You shrugged as you continued to sweep the floor. You knew he’d kill you if you ever broke up with him. That’s why you had to leave Chicago. You knew this week’s paycheck wouldn’t contribute much to your sad savings for the trip away. You had barely $100 saved up and you’d been saving for three months.

Chris sighed. He tried multiple times, like many others, to reach you. You simply wanted to leave Chicago and go somewhere nobody could find you. “Alright, just let me know if you need anything. All I’m saying is you deserve better.”

—

The next day, you woke up in the afternoon, due to being up until last call. What really annoyed you, though, was an obsessive knocking at your front door. You groaned and threw on some clothes, yelling down to the door. “I’m coming, I’m coming!” You rolled your eyes and muttered under your breath a curse at whoever was on the other side of the door. When you finally opened it, you were shocked to see Travis, who pushed himself past you and inside. “Travis? What the hell is going on?”

“(Y/N), it’s not my fault, I swear it.”

“What? What’s not?”

“There’s a cop and he’s pissed.”

“What cop? Where?” You looked back to the door, which was still open, seeing Hank Voight standing on your porch now. You hadn’t seen him before because of Travis’s frantic nature. “Sergeant Voight, what’s going on?”

Voight pushed into the house with you, shutting the door behind him. “You’re both going to come with me. Either we can do this quietly, or I can bring three squads down and make a big show of it with the cuffs.”

Your eyes landed on Travis. “What the hell did you do? Does Greg know?”

“It’s not my fault! He threatened me!”

You scoffed and looked back to Voight. “I know my rights.”

“That’s the wrong answer, (Y/N). I’m trying to help you.”

“I don’t need your damn help or anybody’s. I’m not going anywhere, so go ahead and drag me out in cuffs. I’d like to see the warrant for my arrest.”

Voight looked you over, then turned his gaze to Travis. “Come on, big boy.”

“I-I didn’t do anything! I brought you here! What more do you want from me, man?!”

“You have a warrant, Travis. Failure to appear in court for your weed possession.” Voight walked over and grabbed Travis, pushing him against the wall with his hands behind his back. “I’m taking you to the station and booking you.”

You rolled your eyes. “What’s the deal, Voight? Cops always make a deal when they try to threaten people with petty things like this. Especially when they’re of your rank and position.”

“Deal is, you both come quietly, or I force you both with me.”

“Why?” You crossed your arms. You hadn’t realized it until then, but you were wearing a short sleeve shirt and a pair of shorts, which showed off all of the bruises on your body. You also didn’t have any makeup on.

Voight brought Travis over, then leaned in to very quietly whisper in your ear. “There’s bugs all over your house. Can’t talk here.”

You let out a breath. “Cameras too,” you muttered before recoiling away from him. “You’re going to have to arrest me, then!”

“So be it,” Voight said with a nod, then took out a radio to call for squad backup. He put cuffs on Travis and led you out to the front porch with him. A single squad came for backup, the two cops taking Travis and cuffing you. Voight put you in his own car, the others taking Travis in theirs.

As you rode with Voight, you looked up at him from the back. “What is this?”

“I know he hurts you,” Voight said. “Erin and Jay are concerned. They wanted me to get you out of there. From the looks of your body, I’m glad I did.”

You blushed, suddenly feeling exposed as you tried to cover yourself, which was impossible due to your cuffs and choice of clothing. “I’ve never told anyone what he does. They don’t know what's going on.”

Voight sighed, glancing to the rear-view mirror. “Plus, your boyfriend is a felon. Drug running across state lines? I’ve heard that he even took a few loads to Canada.”

“Look, I don’t have anything to do with what he spends his time doing.”

“That’s why I have to protect you. For all he knows, you were arrested. In reality, you’re in protective custody until I put the cuffs on him and put him away for life.”

You scoffed. “Yeah, right… If you really wanted to help me, you’d get me out of the state instead.”

Voight didn’t say anything back, driving you to the district as you looked out the window, wishing you could just start over.

--

2 Weeks Later

--

You were put into protective custody by Hank and the others. Erin often came to check up on you, sometimes with Jay. You always brushed it off and made snide remarks, but it was only because you were afraid he would find you. You were confined to a safehouse on the outskirts of the city for over two weeks before a firm knock came to your door. It wasn't Erin, seeing as she usually brought her key and knocked softly. You were terrified, grabbing a knife from the kitchen and trying to peek through the front window. You could tell it was a man by the way he was standing and the firmness of the knock. You couldn't see his face, though, and that terrified you. You took a breath and positioned yourself behind the door, holding the knife up, then unlocking it and opening it, peeking around to stab whoever may have walked through.

His reflexes were faster than yours. He grabbed your wrist which was holding the knife, but his voice made you stop when you began to struggle. "(Y/N), (Y/N), hey, it's just me, it's Hank."

You let out a breath, dropping the knife as you trembled. You pulled your hand away, panting as your adrenaline pumped. "I-I'm sorry, I thought you were-"

"Don't worry about it," he replied. "I didn't mean to scare you." He gently laid a hand on your shoulder, then pulled you a little closer to him. It was subconscious, but you followed him without protest. He shut the front door and led you to the small sofa, sitting beside you and rubbing your back to calm you, one hand on your knee.

You looked down. Again, you'd been wearing shorts due to the heat of the Chicago summer. Your skin looked much better, still pale, but at least the bruises were fading. You gently set one hand on top of his on your knee. You looked up at him as you finally calmed down. "Why are you here?"

"I came to tell you that you're safe now," he said softly, still rubbing your back with his free hand. "I put Greg in jail, along with everyone in his crew."

You looked into Hank's eyes. The chocolate orbs surrounded you, comforting you. You couldn't quite explain it, but they made your soul feel warm, like how hot chocolate feels on a cold winter's night. You blinked once, then looked down. Tears welled in your eyes. "Is it... really over? He won't get me if I leave here?"

"That's right," Hank replied. "He won't." You took a breath, nodding as the tears threatened to spill. Hank gently reached his hand up to cup your chin with his fingers, making you look up at him. "Hey, don't worry. I said I'd protect you and I still mean it."

You smiled softly, looking over his face. He was an attractive man, something you hadn't quite noticed until then. He matched your smile, bringing his other hand up to stroke a piece of hair from your face. "Let's get dinner to celebrate. Tonight."

You blushed. "Are you sure?"

"Yeah, then I'll help you move your bags from here to wherever you want to go. I hope you're not still planning on leaving Chicago."

You hiked your shoulders, sighing softly. "I don't know anymore. I just want to start over and put all of this behind me."

"I'll set you up in my guest room."

.

Suffice to say, you didn't spend the night in the guest room. The spark you and Hank had over dinner was enough to light an entire forest on fire all at once. You found that you came from similar backgrounds, born and raised in Chicago. You even went to the same school, albeit you were several years younger than him at the time. When Hank got you to his house, the night ended with some bourbon and a lot of gentle kisses. You weren't drunk by any means and Hank had taken his sweet time with you. He made you feel truly loved for the first time in your life. After years of abuse, Hank's love was refreshing.

--

The morning came all too soon when Hank's alarm went off at 5:45. You whimpered softly, Hank groaning and rolling over to shut it off, leaving you cold for a moment before he came back to embrace you. You hummed as you pressed backward into him, loving how his strong arms wrapped you up. He chuckled softly, pressing kisses to your neck as he rubbed your waist. "Good morning," he muttered into your skin.

"It is with you holding me," you replied softly, smiling. The time you'd spent with Hank was some of the best time you'd ever had on Earth. He made you happy.

"Mmn, too bad I have to get to work," he said softly.

"You have some time, don't you?" you asked, turning around in his arms. "Work doesn't start until eight."

"Yeah, but I have ComStat at seven in the Ivory Tower. The life of a Sergeant." He shrugged, nuzzling his nose softly against yours with a gentle smile.

You matched his smile, even giggling a little. You pushed yourself closer to him, connecting your lips with his in a gentle kiss. The passion and love flowed from both of you as he pulled your waist closer.

"Mmn, I think it's going to be a good day, seeing as I'm waking up like this," Hank said, one hand reaching up to cup your face, stroking his thumb over the apple of your cheek.

"I think so too," you replied, still smiling, wider and brighter than ever as you rubbed his chest.

[medicalpdtvshows]

🚨— sergeant hank voight icons — 🚨

chicago p.d. season 1

[oliberries]

I read some Criminal Minds fic about Hotch where the reader was... a little too into the interrogation thing. Nervous but not because they were guilty, but because hot damn. I think Prentiss had to stop the interrogation because she realized what was going on?

Anyways...

Chicago PD fandom. Fic writers. Please God give me that exact thing except Hank Voight. Please please please please. It'd be so much more intense. More manhandling.

[musntbill]

Hank Voight x Fem!Reader

(TW: Some violence and implied sexual abuse/[worse], but nothing explicitly said)

Hank’s eyes surveyed the crime scene. A murder, of someone quite important to the mayoral candidate. This was a high-visibility case, which Hank hated. That meant more people telling him how to do his job.

Hank crouched beside the body, the body of a young girl who had been practically mutilated. Tortured in all of the worst ways. Hank could only imagine what her last moments must have felt like. Something nobody should experience. Something he promised himself he would make the culprit experience, one way or another.

His eyes moved up as he stood, listening to Antonio telling him about the case. “We have no witnesses, apparently. At least, none who are willing to talk.”

Hank huffed in protest. “She was dumped in the middle of the street. Someone has to know something.”

“They won’t cooperate,” Antonio replied, shaking his head as he put his notebook and pen away. “Damn shame, too.” He then walked away to talk to some of the other officers.

Hank looked out over the crowd of people behind the yellow tape. They were watching and chattering amongst themselves, all except one woman. She stood there, facing Sergeant Voight, arms wrapped around herself. She had her hood up, hair blowing in the breeze to cover part of her face. As Hank looked at her, they locked eyes. She seemed to curl into herself as she moved backward, disappearing into the crowd. Hank hummed, musing to himself over the woman and her behavior as he looked over the crowd in an attempt to find her. When he found the effort to be futile, he moved away from the scene in the opposite direction, getting into his car and heading to the district.

— —

The case dragged on, dead end evidence everywhere they looked. Without a witness to put the criminal at the scene, all they had was circumstantial at best. Hank rubbed his forehead with one hand, taking in a deep breath as he poured over the paperwork again. It didn’t help that the folks in the ivory tower were breathing down his neck, watching his every move.

The bullpen was empty, as everyone else had gone home for the night. Hank knew he should leave too, but he needed answers. He needed to find the killer.

“Hank,” came a familiar voice. Strong but gentle, he knew it to be Trudy. He didn’t look up to meet her eyes, simply grunting in response. “Hank,” she insisted.

He sighed, looking up from the files to look at his friend and coworker, only to see a woman beside her, the same woman from the crime scene. She had her hair in front of her face, but her hood was down this time. She still curled into herself, as if at any moment she would be attacked. Hank stood to greet her, looking her over. “You were at the scene.”

“Then you know why I’m here,” the woman replied. “I’m (Y/N).” She reached out to shake his hand.

“(Y/N),” he repeated. “Sergeant Hank Voight.”

“I know,” she replied softly, Trudy nodding to Hank and leaving as (Y/N) sat down across from his desk. “You were there the night Emilia was murdered.”

“Did you know Emilia?”

“Yes. I was her babysitter, back when she was younger. We grew close in the last few years. I just graduated college.”

Hank hummed as he leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms to listen to the girl in front of him. “And?”

“And…” She sighed heavily, rubbing her arms. “I saw them murder her. They said if I talked…” She looked away, flashing back to the terrible memory that had kept her awake.

“Please, please!” She begged, crying and kneeling before the two men who had just mutilated her friend. “Please, please don’t kill me, please! I-I’m a nobody! I don’t have family!”

“Kill the bitch!” The first man said, obviously in a rush, since they’d left Emilia’s body in the street.

“Andy, she’s begging for her life! Let’s just get out of here.”

Andy growled, grabbing (Y/N) by the collar. “If you go to the cops, speak to the cops, or call the cops, you know what I’ll do to you? Huh? I’ll tie you down and cut out your tongue. Then, I’ll do all those nasty things to you that you see in the movies. I’ll make you suffer, more than your friend.”

“(Y/N)?” Hank had since stood, putting a hand on her shoulder and leaning down to her. “What did they say?”

“They said… They’d cut out my tongue… Do horrible things… Then make me suffer, more than Emilia did.” She took in a ragged breath, looking up at Hank.

Finally, he could see the light on her face, her hair moving back to reveal a black eye. Hank tucked her hair behind her ear, gently pressing his fingers to her chin, maneuvering her face so he could see better. “Did they do this to you?”

“Last night, when I was at home, they came in and threatened me again. They said the cops were getting close, and said that if I talked, I was dead.” She swallowed hard, tear welling in her eyes as she looked up at Hank. “They hit me and… And then they left.”

“Is that all they did?”

She swallowed hard, moving back from his grip and looking down, letting her hair fall back into her face. Silence washed over the both of them, (Y/N) pulling tighter into herself, clinging for life as she re-lived the night before.

Hank let out a soft breath, then crouched in front of her. “Hey… You did the right thing,” he reassured her, a tender hand on her leg, the other resting on her arm. “I’ll take care of you.”

She sniffled and took in a deep breath, nodding. “I know your reputation on the street. I asked around about you. If you give me your word… if you promised to protect me… I would believe you.” She looked up a bit, her eyes meeting his.

Hank nodded in response, looking up into her eyes. “I promise.”

[random-weird-fandoms]

5 Stages of Grief

When you accidentally write the 5 stages of grief into a 5-day story...

Well, Hank Voight and the Crackhead Detective is going to be very interesting.

Also, how did this become a lowkey AdamxOC story?? And why do I ship them so much??

Also, also, Day 5 is almost finished, then I have three epilogues to write, then I have to proofread it. I will be printing myself a copy and getting it bound at Staples this weekend! I am so, so excited! :)

I really hope others like this story. It will be too long, by far, to post on Tumblr, so I will make an AO3 and post it on Wattpad too. :)

@creativeimagination206 co-wrote this story!!!

[chicago-pd-is-weird]

Hank Voight x Fem!Reader Oneshot (Part 1)

TW: domestic violence, multiple mentions of suicide

Synopsis: Reader is being abused and feels like she has nowhere else to turn to but a dirty cop named Voight.

Part one of however many because I like this idea and want to run with it a little haha.

Maurice Owens. Gangbanger. Scumbag.

Unfortunately, you needed his help.

You walked up to him, about midnight. His bodyguards stood, showing their guns, but you weren’t scared. You’d had worse than a pistol whip or bullet hit your body. “I’m just here to talk. I don’t have a weapon.”

“Alright, and who are you, huh? Never seen you around this block before,” Maurice replied, motioning his guards to sit back down. “You come looking for something, baby? You lost?”

“I heard you’re out there on the streets. I need to get a hold of someone. Think you can help?”

“Depends on what you can give me in return, baby girl.”

You sighed softly as Maurice eyed you up and down. You didn’t think you looked that good, but some men would bang anything that breathed. “Alright, then. What’s your price for information on a cop?”

“Cop?” Maurice huffed. “I don’t know no cops.”

“Look, I’m not stupid, Maurice. Anybody who’s heard your name knows you’re in bed with some dirty cops. I’m not PD and I’m not here to report them. I want to get a hold of one. A cop who can help me.”

“What’re you trying to do? Run game on the streets?”

You shook your head, sighing again, this time louder. “Look, I just need a cop who can help get me out of a bad situation. I’ve heard the name Voight tossed around by some bangers on my block. Get me him.”

Maurice laughed. “Voight, huh? He’s not the kind of guy you find. He finds you.”

“Then tell him to find me.”

“Ambitious, aren’t you? And, what should I tell Voight, should I ever cross paths with him?”

You thought for a moment before nodding to him. “Tell him I’ll be waiting for him. 2PM tomorrow - at Butler Field.”

“Yeah? I doubt he’s going to come just for that. I mean, I wouldn’t.”

“Didn’t I say I need help? Just tell him that. If he doesn’t show, then make sure you catch the news tomorrow night. They’ll be scraping me off sidewalk somewhere in the city.”

Maurice scoffed as you walked away, but whistled to you. “Hey, how are you gonna pay for this info?”

“You only get paid if this works out for me. Otherwise, you won’t have to worry about killing me. I’ll do it myself.”

With that, you walked away, listening to Maurice and his men talk about you.

.

When you got home, you let out a breath before walking around your house and to the back steps, as quietly as possible. Slowly, you moved the knob and opened it. The creak of your back door seemed like a siren compared to the silence in your house. You let out a slow breath, opening it only as much as necessary to slip your wiry figure through it, then closing it just like how you opened it. You bit your lip and turned around, the light turning on behind you. When you turned, he was standing there, arms crossed. You looked up at him like a child who had just been caught in the cookie jar.

“Where did you go?”

“I-I just went for a walk,” you replied, your voice shaking. It was the complete opposite from the way you’d spoke to Maurice just twenty minutes earlier.

“Yeah? At midnight? Without me?”

“You… You were sleeping. I didn’t want to wake you up. I just needed some time to myself, and-“

Shit.

“Time to yourself?! Huh?!” He moved forward quickly, getting into your face and pushing you against the door. His hands gripped your shoulders to pin you against the wood, squeezing hard.

“Ah-Ah, ow! Please, Jeff! P-Please, please!”

“You bitch!” His hand raised, making you close your eyes and brace just as his hand came down on your cheek.

You cried out in pain, hot tears coming to your eyes. You were exhausted despite your adrenaline pumping. You barely ate, barely slept, and his abuse didn’t help. You had bruises from weeks ago that hadn’t healed because you were so unhealthy. “Please, Jeff! Please, stop!” You just wanted it all to be over. Voight was your last hope.

“Why did you leave tonight, huh?! Who were you going to see?!”

“Nobody! I swear, nobody!” You sobbed as his fist found your ribs, making you curl in pain and collapse on the floor.

“Tell me the truth, bitch!”

He kicked you, over and over and over again. Eventually, you blacked out, bloody and bruised.

—

When you woke again, it was mid-morning. Your body ached and your head spun. You slowly say up, wincing softly at the pain. You couldn’t be too loud, or else he would do it again. You pulled yourself up, stumbling to the bathroom to shower and change.

You peeled off your clothes, whimpering softly at every movement. Dark bruises were on your bony shoulders where his hands had dug into you the night before. Your protruding ribs, similarly, had dark bruises all over them. Not to mention all of the other cuts, bruises and scars he’d laid on you the past ten years. The paper trails were scarce, since he’d always contracted an off-the-books nurse when you got real bad. He’d threatened her to keep her quiet, and always got a different one.

As you got into the shower, you felt the water run over you. It was only lukewarm, since you needed a new hot water heater, but you weren’t going to bring it up to Jeff. You shivered as you watched the blood wash from your hair, suddenly bringing your attention to the cut on your temple where his toe had caught you just right. It wasn’t too bad, but head wounds bled a lot, you knew.

After you finished your five-minute shower, you got out and wrapped a towel around yourself. You took care of your dirty clothes right away, then went to your room to find some clean clothes. When you got dressed, you let your hair stay down, to cover the cut on your head, and you wore a long sleeve and pants despite the summer heat. You glanced at the clock - it was nearly 11:15. That meant you had an hour before he got home for lunch to check on you. Despite working a nearby construction job, he always came back to check on you, making it difficult to go anywhere or do anything without him knowing. You sighed, then decided to get lunch together for him.

.

When he arrived at home, you’d already made him lunch and cleaned the evidence from the night before. You ran the wash to get the blood out of your clothes and mopped the floor near the back door. He walked in, sitting down at the table without a word. You put the sandwich and chips in front of him, allowing him to eat while you did dishes from the night before. When he was finished, you took his plate and put a list in front of him. “I’m going shopping this afternoon. Can you write down what you’d like me to get, please?”

Despite your sweet voice, he huffed. “No, just get what you usually get.”

“Okay,” you whispered in reply, walking with the paper and pen into the kitchen to start writing down everything you were low on. “Can I use the debit card, or should I put it on my credit card?”

“Put it on your card. Not mine, bitch. I make the money. Go out and get a job if you want your own money.”

“Okay…” you mumbled again, deciding not to push it.

.

After his lunch hour was over, he got up and left without a word, allowing you to get everything together to go out. You had about thirty minutes to walk to the baseball field, which you knew would take you twenty. You decided, if you were coming back, to simply make your store trip quick.

You walked as fast as you could, your movements slowed by the pain in your body. You’d only eaten a small meal that morning, one egg and a piece of toast, not really hungry in the first place.

As you approached the baseball field, your adrenaline began to pump in a new way, one you hadn’t felt in a long time. There were people all over, seeing as there was a little league game going on. You breathed shakily, sitting up on the bleachers, away from everyone else, pulling your sleeves down over your wrists. You weren’t cold, seeing as the sun was still high in the sky, but you were shaking. The shade provided some shelter from the suns rays which made you look like a ghost because of how pale you were.

You scanned the park, paranoid he would somehow find you there. When a stranger walked up and sat near you, you nearly jumped from your seat. You looked to the man, who had sunglasses on, his hair greying. He was probably around your age, or a bit older, late 40’s. You bit your lip, looking down at the sidearm on his hip, then at the star clipped beside it. You let out a breath. “Are you Voight?” You asked quietly, your voice meek.

“I am. Who are you?”

“(Y/N),” you replied. “I need help.”

“With what?”

“Look, my husband, he-“ You choked up. Suddenly, it was hard to admit. You looked away as tears blurred your vision.

Voight let you have a minute before moving up to sit beside you. “What about him?”

It was now, or never. “He hurts me…” you mumbled, turning your head back at him as tears rolled down your cheeks. “I need help.”

“You ever make a report to the police?”

“What the hell do you think I’m doing?” You huffed, frustrated.

“Look honey, you seem nice, but you should go to the district and make a report.”

You huffed. “Fuck off. I knew this was a mistake.” You got up, wincing in pain as you stumbled off of the bleachers. “Don’t be surprised if you find my body tonight, officer. One way or another.”

You walked away, shaking your head as tears streaked down your face, letting hair fall down to hide it. You heard footsteps behind you, making you stop and whip around, eyes wide. You thought maybe someone would come to put you in your place for talking to a cop, paranoia setting in.

When Voight approached, he put his hands up. “Easy, easy. I’ll help you.”

“What made you change your mind?” You wiped your face, looking up at him.

“Look at you,” he replied softly, pushing the hair behind your ear and taking your chin softly to maneuver your head, examining the cut on your temple. “What else has he done?”

You started to sob, Voight leading you to his car to sit and talk with you for a while. You explained the last ten years to him, which took nearly an hour. When you realized the time, you looked at him. “Please, are you going to help me? Because… if not, I need to get to the store. If-If I come back without groceries, he’ll have a reason beat me again.”

“Let me get you to the store, then,” he said softly. “I can help, but you’ve gotta give me a few days. I got some other things to deal with.”

“Okay…” you mumbled. “Please… don’t abandon me.”

He gently held your chin to look you in the eyes. “I won’t. I promise.”

When your glassy eyes met his deep, brown ones, you nearly got lost for a moment. He made you feel safe and warm, like hot chocolate on a cold Chicago night. You nodded slowly, reaching over to grab his free hand. “Thank you…”

.

Hank drove you to the store, then dropped you off at home just in time. Your husband arrived about ten minutes later. You put the groceries away quickly, starting on dinner. He brought home beer and some friends, like he did every Friday night. You sighed softly, but knew at least he wouldn’t abuse you too much that night until his friends left.

-

You held out hope, for days, that one day cop cars would just show up and take care of your husband. When a week passed by, you snuck out to see Maurice again, walking up to him around eleven at night this time.

“Hey baby girl, you come to pay?”

“I need to get a hold of Voight again.”

Maurice laughed, shaking his head. “You ain’t heard? Nah, baby, he got put in jail.”

You stopped, looking over Maurice again for any sign that he was lying. “No, don’t lie to me.”

“I don’t have no reason to lie, especially when you owe me.”

You huffed, shaking your head. “What did you do? Did you report him?”

“Hell no, I didn’t. Me and Voight, we had a special relationship, baby. Mutually beneficial. Now that he’s in jail, I gotta groom another dog cop into looking the other way.”

You frowned, looking at him intently. “Where is he? Statesville?”

“Yep. Got sent away for a long time, I heard.”

You couldn’t help the tears that had welled in your eyes. Voight had promised you. Was that even still a thing? You debated going to the nearest tall building to jump from, but you just wanted out. “I need another favor.”

“Baby, you ain’t paid for the last two I just gave you.”

“I’ll pay. I’m good for it. You just gotta distract somebody for me. Make sure he can’t come home for the day while I catch the bus over to statesville.”

“Are you insane? That’s a big ask, baby. I don’t even know your name.”

“It’s (Y/N). I need you to keep my husband busy tomorrow. Jeff Greyson. Don’t let him come home for a few extra hours. He likes to drink, and he even used to shoot up when he was in high school. I’m assuming you’re drug runners. Dangle a free sample in front of his nose. I’ll pay you off after this.”

Maurice cocked an eyebrow. “What’s going on that you can’t tell him? You having an affair with Voight?”

You scoffed, looking at him intently. “My husband abuses me. I’m trying to get out. Voight promised he would help. Does he make good on promises?”

Maurice slowly nodded. “Every time.”

“Then I need to see him.”

“Fine, but my rate just doubled, baby.”

—

You finally got into Statesville and were sat at a booth with a phone on either side. Voight was brought in on the other side of the glass and sat down across from you. You picked up the phone, and so did he. “What the hell happened?”

“You knew I was a dirty cop when you met me.”

“Maurice says you’re a man of your word. Is that true, or should I go looking for a tall building for a solution?”

“You need to report this to somebody.”

“I can’t. The investigation could take weeks and if he finds out, he’ll kill me first. I’d rather go out after seeing the city skyline one last time.”

Hank sighed on the other end. “Can you make it to the 21st district?”

You frowned. “I just told you, I-“

“Trudy Platt. Remember that name. I’ll have her find you.”

“Platt… okay…”

“I make good on my promises, (Y/N). It’s just going to take a little longer.”

You sighed, looking back up into his eyes. He was genuine. “Alright…” you mumbled. “Fine… who is she?”

“Trudy Platt is a sergeant in the 21st district. I’ll have her find you and work your case, personally.”

“Okay.”

“Just hold out. Has he hurt you any more?”

“Every day, Hank. Every fucking day.”

Hank sighed a little, but nodded. “Trudy will take care of you.”

—

The next few days went by without event, your hope dwindling with every punch, hit, and cut he put on you. One night, as you sat at home, straddling his lap at his request, a knock came to the front door. You jumped at the sudden knock, looking down at him to see what he wanted to do. He pushed you off him and got up, opening the door. “Can I help you?”

A man looked at him through the door, which he had only opened enough for him to be seen. “Detective Dawson. This is Detective Willhite. Can we come in?”

“No,” Jeff growled. “Do you have a warrant?”

The two detectives looked at once another, then back to Jeff. “Look,” Dawson said. “Some neighbors have called in complaints about a girl screaming here multiple nights in the past few months.”

You furrowed your brow. If that were true, wouldn’t the cops have shown up already?

“I guess the neighbors don’t realize we can still be active even though we’re in our mid and late forties.”

Willhite scoffed. “Oh yeah? Can we talk to your wife? We need to corroborate your story.”

“Sure,” Jeff said, motioning you forward. “Here, (Y/N), tell them.”

“Actually,” Dawson said, looking at you. “Standard procedure is to separate the two of you for questioning. Ma’am, could you step outside?”

“Maybe you should talk to our lawyer, then,” Jeff said with a huff, putting a firm hand on your shoulder. “Have a nice night.”

“Let the girl speak. We can’t go anywhere until she tells us what’s going on,” Willhite replied.

You let out a shaky breath, looking at the two detectives, nodding. “Yeah, uh, it’s… it’s all good… we’re just…” You cleared your throat. “… Active.” You blinked three times rapidly, three times slower, then three more times rapidly, hoping they’d catch on to it.

Dawson and Willhite looked at one another again, then each drew their guns. “Sir, we’re going to need you to step outside with us,” Dawson said.

Jeff scoffed. “This is completely unjustified. You came to my house and forced me to talk, and now you’re going to arrest me? This is not based in law. You’re going to have a six figure lawsuit on your hands now. Both of you, individually.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Dawson said as he pulled Jeff out of the house, making you yelp as his grasp pushed you into Willhite on accident.

She caught you, taking you out of the way and onto the grass. “Hey, it’s okay now. My name is Jules. That’s Antonio. Platt sent us.”

You started to cry, shaking. You were barely able to breathe because of your injuries as your body convulsed with sobs. Jules helped you lay down on the grass and breathe until the ambulance arrived. Jeff was taken away in a car, while you were taken to the hospital in an ambulance. Jules sat by your side the whole time as they checked you out. Turns out you had multiple broken ribs from a few weeks ago as well as several other ailments from the past ten years that never healed correctly. You cried until you couldn’t cry any more, slowly falling asleep as Jules held your hand, Antonio and Trudy Platt talking to one another in the hallway outside your room.

[chicago-pd-is-weird]

Hank Voight x Fem!Reader - Pt. 2

Request for @maximeseveridecaseyc - I hope you like it!

Synopsis: Part 2 of THIS request - Reader and Voight are taking the next step in their relationship! :)

Eight months went by, your relationship with Hank growing deeper and more passionate every day. Your bruises had healed, and you’d naturally gained some weight, but it was good weight. You were happier and despite still having nightmares, Hank stayed by your side. You often spent your days in his house, as you felt safe there. He urged you to go out on your own, because he didn’t want to restrict you. When you did leave, you went to Molly’s and worked a weekend shift, especially when Hank was wrapped up in a case.

One day, Hank came home to you, a wide smile on his face. It was rare to see him in such a good mood due to his line of work. You walked to the door and greeted him.

“Hey baby,” you said softly, waiting for him to strip his outer jacket and shoes before wrapping your arms around his neck, pressing a soft kiss to his lips.

He looked down at you, his smile only growing. “Hey there,” he replied. “How was your day?”

You laughed. “It was good. Looks like yours was too.”

He kissed you again, rubbing your waist. “Even better now that I’m home with you.”

You smiled, putting a hand up to his face, stroking his cheek with your thumb. “Seems like you’re extra happy today.”

Hank hummed, turning his head to kiss your hand, using one hand to take it and hold it. “Come on, let’s eat dinner. I’m just so happy to see my girlfriend.”

You laughed, using your free hand to rub his chest before he whisked you away to the kitchen. The two of you decided to cook spaghetti. You and Hank worked together on the meal, Hank playfully getting some sauce on his finger and pressing it to your nose. You gasped and laughed, getting him back by saucing him in the cheek. You both laughed, the happiest people in the world in those moments. The rest of the world didn’t exist as the two of you laughed and wiped the sauce from one another’s faces.

You wrapped your arms around his torso, pressing your face into his chest. “You know, when I first met you, I never thought that you’d be such a softie.“

Hank couldn’t help but blush when you called him that. “I hope you don’t go around telling people that. I have to keep my hard-ass reputation.” He laughed, stroking your hair as he held you close.

“No, it’s just for me,” you whispered, pulling back and kissing him deeply.

Hank smiled down at you when you parted. “Yeah, it is.” He reached into his pocket, pulling something out after a moment and keeping it hidden in his hand. “Look, (Y/N), you’re the first person to make me happy since Camille passed on. I want to make sure you stick around. I know it’s really informal but… I want to ask you if you’ll marry me.” Hank opened his hand to reveal a simple engagement ring.

You blushed deeply, gasping softly when he asked, tears welling in your eyes. How could you say no to him? He made you just as happy. You slowly took the ring from his hand, nodding as you looked up at him, slipping it on your ring finger. “Yes… Yes, Hank, I’d love to marry you.” You pushed closer into his embrace as he pulled you as close as possible, kissing you deeply, passion and love pouring from his soul, directly into yours. You felt completely fulfilled by this moment alone.

You wrapped your arms tightly around Hank, practically jumping into his arms. He smiled and pulled you up, setting you up on the counter as he turned off the stove. “You know, I didn’t plan to do this until after dinner, but it was so… perfect.”

You smiled down at him, carting your fingers through his hair and rubbing the nape of his neck. “Yeah, it was perfect,” you affirmed. “I couldn’t think of anything better.”

.

The next day, you went with Hank into work, as you sometimes did, especially because you liked to visit the intelligence unit, who had come to be your close friends and practically family.

It was Antonio who noticed it first. He was a father, and he had taken on something of a parent role to you as well. He looked at your hand, then met your eyes and smiled. “Congratulations,” he said softly, so the others wouldn’t hear.

“Thanks,” you whispered with a nod as you walked over to see Erin and Jay in the break room. “Hey guys.”

Erin smiled when she saw you. “Hey, (Y/N)!” She walked over and gave you a gentle hug. “You seem different.”

You shrugged a little. “What do you mean?” You smiled at her as Jay handed you a cup of coffee, which you held with both hands as you sipped.

Erin hummed, looking you over. “You look like you’re glowing.”

“Well, I had a good night last night,” you said with a small laugh.

Hank came up behind you in the doorway, a rare smile on his face. Erin didn’t see him smile like that often, meeting his eyes for a moment before Hank looked down.

Erin’s eyes turned to you, gasping when she saw the engagement ring on your finger. “No way,” she said with a laugh. “Hank, you sly dog.”

Hank shrugged. “What can I say?”

Jay laughed. “Congratulations.” He walked over, giving you a small hug, then shaking Hank’s hand.

Erin came over and hugged you tightly. “I’m so happy for the two of you.” She smiled, then hugged Hank as well. “I’m glad you make each other happy.”

You turned to look at Hank as he hugged his foster daughter, a bright smile on your face. “Erin, I’d love it if you could be my maid of honor.”

Erin turned quickly to you, smiling. “I’d love to, (Y/N). Anything you need, let me know.”

Hank chuckled. “We talked about it last night. We decided we’d just have a small wedding and elope. Just close friends.”

Antonio walked in, smiling and shaking Hank’s hand. “Congratulations - both of you.” He hugged you tightly, kissing your cheek. “You both deserve it.”

You smiled and hugged Antonio tightly. “Walk me down the aisle?”

Antonio pulled back, looking at you with a look of surprise. “Me? Are you sure?”

“Who else?” You asked with a smile.

—

Three months later, you were dress shopping. Your wedding was set for a month out, making you both excited and nervous. It wasn’t a huge ceremony, but you wanted it to be just right. Hank was the love of your life, your first true love and the man who ultimately treated you like you were worth more than a passing glance. You weren’t a body with Hank, you were a person.

“(Y/N),” Erin said, gently putting a hand on your shoulder. “You ready?”

“Yeah,” you said, walking with Erin into the store, Jay right behind you.

When you walked in, you were greeted by a man and a woman, both of which would be assisting you.

.

After trying on eighteen dresses, you were exhausted. None of them were quite right. You liked a few, hated a few others, and were indifferent on the rest. You were upset that you couldn’t find one you loved and were going to settle on one of the ones you thought were okay instead. That’s when Jay popped out of the aisle. “Hey, (Y/N), try this one.”

“I’m exhausted, Jay,” you groaned. “It’s fine, I’ll just pick one of these.”

“No, I’m serious, this is the last one. Try it.”

“Jay…” you whined. “Come on…”

Erin walked over to Jay, looking at the dress he was holding, then nodding. “Come on, (Y/N), one more.”

You looked at the both of them, then sighed. “Fine. But this is the last one. Then I’m leaving.”

You got into the dress which fit you well in all the right places. You bit your lip as you looked down at it, wondering if it actually looked as good as you thought. When you walked out and stood on the podium, you looked at Erin and Jay on the couch first. “Does it look okay?”

Jay smiled brightly, nodding. Erin gasped and stood up, walking over to you. “(Y/N), you need to see it for yourself.”

You bit your lip as Erin helped you move around to the mirror, your eyes closed tightly. When you finally got the courage to open your eyes and look, you blushed, then tears welled in your eyes. You put your hands to your face, gasping as you started to cry. “It’s… perfect.”

“Told you,” Jay said, standing and joining Erin. “It’s always in the last place you look.”

You laughed, shaking your head and wiping the tears from your face. “That’s only lost things, silly.”

Jay shrugged and chuckled.

—

You and Hank had decided at the last minute to have your wedding on the steps of the 21st district. Seeing as it was a weekend, the foot traffic could be routed through a different door. Trudy was able to take care of it for you. She was so happy for Hank that he had found someone new since Camille had passed. You, Erin, Stella, and Sylvie were a block away at Sylvie's apartment. The girls had personally taken care of your hair and makeup, styling it so that your face was perfectly framed. As you finished assembling your dress and got your shoes on, you looked in the mirror, biting your lip. Everything was perfect, and you were glowing. The engagement ring on your finger was sparkling brightly, and you couldn't help but smile, thinking about Hank, hoping he thought you were beautiful too.

A knock came to the door. Erin walked over and cracked it open, then allowed Antonio inside. Antonio stepped in, nodding to the three bridesmaids, then to you with a small smile. "Beautiful."

"Thanks," you said softly, nodding back at him. "Is everyone ready at the district?"

"Yep, just waiting on you." He walked over, offering his arm. You took it, the two of you walking downstairs and out to his car. Erin, Stella and Sylvie got into another car, driving ahead of you and Antonio so they could get set up. Toni sat in the driver's seat beside you, waiting a few minutes before he started driving. He looked at you. "Hey, how are you feeling?"

You took a deep breath as your eyes shifted to his face. "Butterflies. Lots and lots of butterflies."

Antonio chuckled, gently taking your hand for comfort. "Hank feels the same way - he just won't say so."

"How do you know?" You squeezed his hand.

Antonio laughed. "I haven't seen Hank so frantic in my life. He knows this is a small event, but he wants to make sure it's right. For you. He understands you haven't been married before and he wants you to have a good day."

You smiled softly, thinking about Hank being frantic. You could barely imagine it. The level-headed man you'd come to love, hard on the outside and soft on the inside, how could he be so frantic? You looked out the window as Antonio drove you to the district, the butterflies in your stomach getting stronger with each passing minute.

When you arrived at the district, Antonio kissed your cheek, then got out and opened your door for you, handing you a bouquet he had grabbed from the back seat. It was made up of your favorite flowers. He helped you out, then the two of you walked across the street. At the top of the stairs stood Hank, Alvin and Jay beside him, a third spot left for Antonio. Chief Boden from Firehouse 51 was officiating your wedding, standing in the middle with a small smile. Erin, Stella and Sylvie had since taken their places on the opposite side of Al and Jay, a spot left for you. Each had a grin on their face, except Hank.

Hank's eyes moved all over you. He examined every part of you, from bottom to top. When his eyes finally met yours, he nodded a little, swallowing hard. You wondered if he wanted to back out, but as Antonio led you up the steps toward Hank, you could see he actually had tears in your eyes. You teared up as well, seeing that he was crying just looking at you. The two of you were overwhelmed with emotion as Antonio let you go and into Hank's arms, taking his spot beside Jay. Hank hugged you, mumbling in your ear. "You're beautiful... Inside and out... I can't wait to make you my wife."

You sniffled, trying not to rub your makeup on him. Al handed you a tissue, as if he knew you would need it beforehand. You took it with a silent thanks, pulling away from Hank to dab your eyes, then holding his hands. You barely listened to Boden until your part came, Erin handing you the wedding band for Hank, and Al giving the one for you to Hank. You repeated the words Boden asked you to, then Hank to you. The two of you were still dabbing your tears every so often, voices barely a whisper, as it was all either of you could muster without breaking into tears.

After you exchanged rings, you exchanged vows, promising to love and support one another - no matter what came your way. Each of you promised that your marriage meant more than just a body to sleep beside. Your marriage was the most important thing in your lives, come what may.

After exchanging the rings, Boden talked a bit more before the two of you were finally allowed to kiss one another. Hank pulled you close, a soft yet desperate pull. He touched his nose to yours, finally letting tears stream from his eyes. "I love you," he whispered softly before closing the gap and pressing his lips to yours, kissing you with the same passion, love and energy you had felt the first time he kissed you. You returned it all, holding onto him lovingly, clutching his jacket for life, as if he might leave if you let go. You finally had something good, and it was yours to keep. Love.

When the two of you finally parted, you whispered back, breathless. "I love you too." Finally, the claps and cheers of your wedding party and audience came to your ears. You smiled and faced the small crowd of friends, waving with your free hand, holding your bouquet in the other. You threw it out into the crowd, Kim catching it. She blushed as Adam laughed and put his arm around her shoulders. Then, Hank walked you down the steps, smiling like a fool. The two of you got into his Dodge Durango and drove away, waving. You went to his house, practically already both of yours. The two of you changed into something a little less fancy, but still nice. Then, you shared a few moments together, gentle and loving, before leaving and heading out to Molly's for your reception.

--

When the two of you arrived at Molly's, the party was already in full swing. Trudy and Erin made sure everyone was having a good time. You and Hank walked in, everybody clapping and hollering. Hank held your hand, smiling and even blushing. It was a blush he would pass off as it being too hot. Only you and a select few others knew that his blush was real. The two of you walked around, talking with everyone. Mainly though, Hank did the talking while you just enjoyed holding his hand. The two of you had some casual drinks, but you were already exhausted and looked forward to spending the night in his arms, leaning into him. He cast his arm around your waist and pulled you close, allowing you to lean further into his embrace. His embrace was the best place on the planet, and you never wanted to leave it.

[chicago-pd-is-weird]

Hey could you do a Voight × reader! oneshot where Voight doubts is going to work and feels guilty but reader! shows him their love is not conditional?

Yes! I absolutely can! Thanks for your request, Anon. I’m sorry it took so long! I’ve been in a terrible dry spell for writing.

Read it on AO3 or below the cut:

https://archiveofourown.org/works/60025387/chapters/167731267

Hank sighed as he poured his coffee. It had been a year since he started dating you, but he still had his reservations about their relationship. His relationship with Camille had been so simple. He married her after six months and he wanted to spend his life with her. But she died so young, and then he was lonely again. He was so hesitant to get into a new relationship, but when he met you, he finally was able to open himself back up.

This last year had been nothing but happiness for him. Despite being who he was and not being able to un-cross those lines, you loved him anyways. It was never something he took for granted. He loved you so much for it.

You woke up that morning to the aroma of coffee, mixed with the scent of his pillow, where you were laying. You’d stayed the night, which was unusual, as Hank usually came to your house and was gone by sunrise. You’d surprised him last night, but you didn’t have to be up for work, seeing as you worked an afternoon shift. So, you’d stayed. It was a rare thing. You’d only stayed overnight twice before at his house. Once, on Camille’s birthday, where you just held him all night, and the second on Justin’s birthday, where you did the same.

Last night, though, last night was for pleasure. Hank had finally seemed to jump another hurdle in his head and let you in. You slowly sat up that morning and stretched as you took a moment to think about the night before. The soft kisses. The way his lips brushed over your body. The way he held you. What a thought to wake up to.

The only thing better would be if he were beside you.

But, it seemed like that was another hurdle he had to jump. Staying. Committing to the morning after. And he wasn’t quite there yet. But, you didn’t mind. You loved him no matter what, and you knew how broken he was. You knew it would take time, and progress was indeed being made.

You got up, only in your underwear and his shirt from the night before, slowly walking downstairs and wrapping your arms around his torso from behind. “Hey… good morning,” you said softly, laying your head on his shoulder blade and closing your eyes.

“Morning,” he mumbled back, pouring a second cup of coffee for you, making it up the way you liked it. Then, he gently rubbed your arms. His hands were some combination of soft and calloused, somewhere perfectly in between. He had worked all his life, but these days, he was often stuck behind his desk at work.

You hummed contents as you felt his hands rub your arms, then you slowly let him go. He turned around and looked down at you, cupping your face. You offered a small smile. “Hey baby… I love you.”

“I love you, too,” he mumbled, kissing your forehead, then letting you go. Something was wrong. You could tell that much.

“Hank…?” You watched as he grabbed his coffee and sat down at the table. You grabbed your cup and sat down beside him. “What’s the matter?”

“Did you sleep well?”

You blinked, but nodded in response, sipping your coffee and going quiet. Your question still stood, no matter how much he seemed to want to ignore it.

“Good,” Hank replied, not meeting your eyes as he sipped his coffee and looked over the newspaper that morning. A sad silence seemed to fall over the two of you.

“What’s the matter, baby?” You promoted again, gently putting a hand on his arm and rubbing it.

“I… I have to go into work this morning,” he mumbled, his eyes shifting down as he put the news paper back onto the table.

“I know,” you replied. “I know you do. You always have to.” You furrowed your brow. “What’s up with that? You don’t want to?”

Hank hesitated, glancing at you, then away again. “Well, I don’t want to just leave you and make you feel like… I don’t know.” He shrugged. “I’m usually gone by now from your place, but we’ve never…”

“We’ve never had a morning-after here,” you finished. “I know you have to work, baby. You wouldn’t be ‘just leaving me,’ you’d be going to work.” You rubbed his arm and slid a little closer. “Come here. Let me hold you.”

Hank shrugged but allowed you into his lap. You used one hand to rub his chest, the other stroking the nape of his neck. Then, you slowly leaned down and kissed him, a gentle, long, passionate kiss pouring from you. Your lips and his slowly found a good rhythm and finally, he seemed to relax beneath your touch.

When you pulled back, only a little, you finally were able to meet his deep brown eyes. “Hank, I won’t leave you just because you have to work. And, I get it, all of this is really hard for you after… after Camille.” You leaned down and kissed him softly again, then pulled back to look at him. “I love you. I will always love you. Truly. Unconditionally.”

Tears came to his eyes as he looked up at you and listened to your words. When you said “unconditionally,” he let out a soft sob and pulled you closer. He cried into your collarbone and held you tightly. For the first time in a long time, he finally, truly, felt loved. He’d just jumped another hurdle, the final one. He was all-in on you now. Unconditionally.

[chicago-pd-is-weird]

I don’t ship them, but the one thing that came to mind was S1 E1 when Jules was shot. Antonio, Hank, Erin, all of their reactions. Crazy. Just crazy.

I want to point out that Hank, we expect that kind of reaction out of. Him trying to hurt someone, physically. Erin crying, we can expect that from her. But Antonio? Shoving his hands in Pulpo’s face? Physically wanting to hurt him? It is specifically made a point that Antonio doesn’t vibe with physical harassment/brutality, in both Fire and PD, up till that point (as far as I know - I didn’t watch all of Fire). So, seeing his reaction like that? Crazy. Guttural. Visceral. Insane.

[chicago-pd-is-weird]

Hello! I wanted to ask if you could write an Antonio Dawson imagine where she’s his gf. Based on S3, Ep.14? The reader is Yates’ target. Antonio is worried about her & is more protective over her as everything is unfolding. As the reader is driving to Yates’ location he taunts Antonio through a video call saying he should’ve kept a closer eye on the reader or something along those lines.

At the end the reader shoots & kills him bc he tried to force himself onto her and when she fought back he wanted to kill her. Finally she breaks down when Hank and Antonio arrive but Antonio is there to comfort her & they go home together. Basically he’s there for her & expressing how he didn’t want her to lose her. And how he was thankful he arrived on time. Please & thank you!

Antonio Dawson x Fem!Reader

This was really fun to write, Anon! I took the episode and tailored it some, but I hope you like it nevertheless!

Requested by: Anonymous

Based on: 03x14 of Chicago PD - all ideas that come from it are not mine :)

TW: mentions of gore/violence as seen in the episode, mentions of stalking, attempted sexual assault

You returned home from New York. It was a horrible time, really. You hadn’t been able to recapture Greg Yates, no matter how hard you tried. As you looked out the car window, you felt a gentle hand come to your thigh, comforting you. You looked over to Antonio beside you, realizing how lucky you were to have him. “Hey,” he said softly. “Don’t worry about it. We’ll get him.”

“I know,” you hummed. “He’s heading back to Chicago. I’m sure of it.”

“His mistake. He’s on our land again. That’s how he was caught the first time.”

You took Antonio’s hand in yours, bringing it up to kiss his knuckles as he pulled up outside your apartment building. “I love you. See you later?”

“Let me walk you inside,” Antonio replied, getting out of the car to escort you.

“Come on, Toni, I’m a big girl with a big girl gun.”

Antonio hummed and pulled you close by your waist as you walked. He didn’t respond, but his body language told you everything. He was afraid something may happen to you, especially because Yates had taken a special interest in you in NY. Truthfully, you weren’t sure why, since you were nothing special.

Instead of fighting, you leaned into Antonio’s chest, looking up at him as you got into the elevator. “Toni, you’re scared.”

“Just trying to make sure my girlfriend is still around tomorrow.”

You sighed softly as the elevator got to your floor, taking his hand and pulling him with you and to your apartment. You keyed yourself in, then shut the door, taking off your coat and shoes. “Antonio Dawson, I love you, but you can’t completely shield me from the world. It’s no way to live. If Yates is coming after me, let him. What’s the difference between this and being undercover?”

Antonio sighed deeply, meeting your eyes. His were filled with deep concern, and he wrapped his arms around your waist to pull you close. “It’s completely different,” he replied. “Being undercover, they don’t know anything about you, and they’re not targeting you. This bastard, Yates, he’s targeting you. He knows everything about you. I-I just don’t want you working this one. He’s going to get into your head.”

“Sounds like he’s already in yours,” you said with a shrug, leaning up to kiss his cheek. “Look, Toni, the whole point is to not let him in. To not change. I’m going to keep working, just the way I always have.”

Antonio gently pressed his forehead to yours. “I can’t lose you,” he muttered, shaking his head. “If I lose you… I won’t know how to keep living.”

“You won’t lose me,” you reassured, gently nuzzling his nose with your own. “Hey, come here…” You gently pulled him to the couch, sitting on his lap and smiling a little, properly leaning in to kiss him. The kiss was deep and passionate, but kept a light tone to it, as you finally pulled away, but not far. You smiled again, whispering against his lips. “I love you, and nothing will ever change that. My love for you is so strong, I’d conquer death just to stay by your side.”

He smiled and pulled you back down for another deep kiss, hands wrapped fully around you, pulling your body as close to his as possible.

--

“(Y/N),” Antonio huffed as he followed you into the locker room, making sure nobody else was there before coming to your side. “You should stay at the district. I don’t like the idea of you being out there, with him, and neither does Voight.”

You rolled your eyes. “You’re just being overprotective, Antonio. I am still a detective and a damn good one, too. I’ve been in lots of situations where I’ve needed to be careful.”

“He’s completely obsessed with you,” Antonio replied, shaking his head. “He looked up your neighborhood, where you live!”

“Which means he’ll eventually make a mistake. I can’t let him get in my head and neither can you. Now, come on, there’s been three more murders and one attempted.”

You grabbed your gun and badge, pinning them on your jeans, then pulled on your jacket. Shutting your locker, you gave Antonio one last look, telling him you were completely serious. He sighed and simply followed you, riding with you to the scene. You looked down at your phone as an unknown number popped up. You sent it to voicemail.

It was brutal. Three nurses had been killed, and the fourth had been taken to the hospital. It didn’t look good. They’d been beat and tortured, and one even had a hand cut off. You shuddered a little, seeing how all four women had suffered.

“Alright,” Voight said as you all walked outside. “Antonio, Jay, go check on the person who lives upstairs, Nelly. (Y/N) and I will go back to meet Benson and the others.”

You rode back to the station with Voight to meet the SVU, a little upset he took you out of the field, most likely at Antonio’s suggestion. You sighed as you walked in and to your desk, but put on a smile when Olivia Benson and the others on her team walked into the bullpen. You stood to greet them, getting them up to speed on everything they missed in the last few hours.

.

Some time later, Antonio and Jay arrived back, Antonio looking distressed as he went straight to Voight’s office. You looked down as your phone buzzed. Unknown number. You sent it to voicemail again.

After a fairly short conversation with Antonio, Voight called you in. You went inside, shutting the door behind you. “What’s going on?”

“We found this at the crime scene where Nelly was kidnapped,” he said, handing you a note.

Too bad you’re at the station, (Y/N). You’re missing all the fun.

You shuddered, looking at the familiar cursive handwriting. You glanced to Antonio and Voight, then set the note on the desk. “So? He’s taunting us. Playing us. We can’t let him win by reacting to this.”

Antonio sighed and put his hands to his head, obviously stressed. Voight looked over Antonio, then looked to you with a soft shrug. “The safest place for you is here.”

“What?” You retorted, frowning. “You can’t bench me, Sarge. That’s hardly fair.”

“No, no, he’s right,” Antonio huffed. “I’m sick of telling you, over and over, (Y/N). You shouldn’t be on this case. You’re too close to it. He’s obsessed with you.”

“I could say the same about you,” you huffed in reply, rolling your eyes and crossing your arms. “I am fine.”

Antonio took a few steps toward you, grabbing your shoulders. “Just please, stay here from now on. Until we catch him. Please.”

“It’s an order,” Voight confirmed. “Sorry, (Y/N), but my number one rule here is that everyone goes home at the end of the night.”

“I thought it was to tell you the truth so you can lie for us?” You rolled your eyes again, shrugging Antonio off you and walking out of the office. You sat at your desk, frustrated by the men benching you, especially when Yates was pining for your attention. They could use you to play him.

.

Everyone went back to their work, trying to find Yates. A few hours went by, and you rubbed your eyes, having been staring at the computer screen nearly the whole time. You let out a deep sigh, but looked up when Kim got the attention of everyone in the bullpen.

“The desk sergeant just called up. A package was just hand-delivered to the front desk, addressed to (Y/N).”

You stood, frowning. Everyone’s gaze shifted to you, then back to Kim, before eventually settling on Sergeant Voight. He looked around and nodded. “Evacuate. Bomb protocol. Someone call in the bomb squad.”

You grabbed your coat, heading outside with the rest of the unit. Antonio stood beside you, a hand on your back. You sighed. “A bomb? Not his style.”

“Maybe, maybe not. He could be trying something new.”

“He probably thinks he has to, since none of you will let me out of the district.”

Antonio sighed again, looking down at you. “It’s to protect you. Why can’t you understand that I just want to protect you?”

“I know you do, and I understand it, but being overbearing like this isn’t protecting me. It hurts me.”

“If it keeps you alive, I’m fine with that,” he said with a small sigh, kissing the top of your head.

You couldn’t help but lean into his shoulder. Because you were among the first out, you were near the back. Your relationship was known, of course, but you liked to keep things private as much as possible. “Jerk,” you mumbled. “I love you.”

“I love you too,” he replied, leaning down to kiss you sweetly before pulling away as Voight and the head of the bomb squad came over.

“It’s not a bomb, we x-rayed it.”

“Then I’m going to open it,” you replied with a shrug, moving from Antonio’s arms and toward the box, which was now outside. You slit the box open with a knife and unfolded the flaps. Your face contorted as you found a human hand inside, figuring it was off of the body from earlier that morning. You slowly reached in, pulling out a note that the hand was holding. Swallowing hard, you opened it.

Why won’t you answer when I call?

You frowned, showing the note to Antonio and Voight, then pulling out your phone as it vibrated in your pocket. You looked to them. “It’s a video call,” you said softly. You hit record on your phone before answering, holding it up so you could be seen in the camera.

“(Y/N),” Yates said, holding the camera out so that you could see him and Nelly. “So nice to see you.”

“What do you want from me?”

“You remind me of someone, that’s all. I like seeing you around.”

You hummed. “Is this what you wanted? Attention?” You turned the camera to show everyone around you. “Cause we’re all here.”

“It’s nice, but what I really want is you. We should meet up sometime. Just the two of us.”

“Let the girl go, maybe we can talk.”

“Mmn…” He hummed and held the girl tighter. “You’ll have to find her.”

“If you wanted her, why kill the others?”

He huffed. “Oh no, you’re trying to get me to confess. You’ve got people there, witnesses. Not only that, but I could probably guess that you’re recording me, aren’t you?”

“Just tell me where you are. We’ll talk.”

“Come and find me.”

With that, the camera dropped, showing a picture frame, then the call cut out. You frowned, furrowing your brow and looking to Voight and Antonio. Mouse started to swear, stomping his foot. “The trace couldn’t go through in time. We don’t have him.”

You sighed, playing back the video. You zoomed in on the picture at the end, then gasped. “Guys… I know where he is.” You turned the phone around to show them a picture of you and Antonio from when you first began dating. “That’s in my apartment.”

Antonio’s eyes widened, and he looked to Voight, who nodded. “Let’s hit it. Get the rest of the team.”

.

You rode beside Antonio, holding his hand and squeezing it. “It’s gonna be alright,” you said softly, though you weren’t sure if you were trying to convince him or yourself. Antonio didn’t say anything, just humming in reply. When you pulled up, the whole team gathered and breached your apartment. There was no sign of Yates, but the girl was stowed away in your closet. You helped her up and stayed with her until she got back to the district.

.

The detectives from NY promptly interviewed Nelly, finding that she was Yates’ birth sister. The mother detailed that she put him up for adoption in South Carolina when he was young, because he had been a psychopath since birth. They found Yates to be in a frenzy now, wanting revenge on his mother. It gave you hope, thinking that you may just be able to catch him. They planned to raid his mother’s place.

“(Y/N),” Voight said, moving to your desk. “You’re not coming.”

You huffed. “Sarge, not this again.”

“Stay here with Nelly and her mother. They need you.”

With that, Vought walked away. You frowned as you watched him go before Antonio came into your view. You looked up at him. “Yeah, I know, he just told me I can’t go. I don’t have to hear it from you.”

Antonio hummed, looking you over as he leaned his hands on your desk, then leaned down to give you a deep, tender kiss. You blushed, but reciprocated. You loved him. How could you resist? Knowing he could die at any point, every time he left the bullpen, especially if you weren’t there to have his back. You gently reached up, standing to meet him again, and massaged his shoulders. “Hey…” you said softly. “Just… Don’t let him hurt you, okay? If he’s obsessed with me, it means you’re also in danger.”

Antonio hummed and pulled you close, rubbing your back as he embraced you. “I won’t let him get to you. Promise.”

“That’s not what I asked, Antonio,” you huffed, holding him tighter. “Please.”

“I love you. I’ll do whatever it takes to fight for you and protect you, until my last breath.”

Tears came to your eyes. You silently hoped that it wasn’t a trap of some kind, swallowing hard. “Okay,” you replied, voice barely above a whisper. “I love you too.”

He kissed your head, then gently cupped your cheeks, wiping your stray tears away. He kissed you again softly before leaving to suit up with the rest of the team. You swallowed hard and let out a shaky breath, wiping your face and sinking back down to your desk.

“Hey, it’ll be alright,” Mouse said, trying to comfort you.

You looked to him, offering a half-hearted smile. “Thanks.” You sniffled and let out another breath, then tried to focus on the paperwork on the case, pouring over it again to ensure nothing was missed.

.

After about a half hour, Nelly came to your desk, frenzied. Someone was calling her phone from her dad’s, but it wasn’t him. It was the man who had kidnapped her. You quickly took the phone and instructed her to go back into the room she’d come from, snapping at Mouse to get him to trace the call. You then lifted the phone to take the video call, seeing Yates with Nelly’s father in-hand.

“So good to see you again,” Yates said with a smile. “Oh, sweet (Y/N), what would I do without you?”

“What did you do for the years before you met me?”

“I dunno…” he hummed.

“I figured out who I remind you of.”

“Yeah?”

You walked into the break room, shutting the door. “Your mother.”

Yates huffed a little, tipping his head. “Yeah? Yeah. I guess you do.” He hummed again and stared intently into the camera, as if he could see into your soul. “So, have you figured out where I am, yet? Or, are you going to let this man just die?”

You looked up as Mouse came to the window with an address. You read it over, connecting the dots. “Yes,” you said into the camera. “Your childhood home.”

“Then come. Come and see me, (Y/N)… Or else, he will die. And come alone. I detest those men who decided to leave you behind. So ungrateful. You deserve the same chance they do. You won’t have to prove yourself to me. I already know you. Everything about you.”

“I’ll come,” you said softly.

“See you soon.” Then, the call ended.

You shuddered, setting the phone on the table before quickly grabbing your coat, running to the parking lot. You grabbed your car, driving to the address and calling Voight to let him know. He told you not to engage, but you knew you couldn’t follow that order. You apologized as you put your foot further onto the gas and sped to Yates’ location.

--

Meanwhile, Antonio pushed the gas pedal as much as he could, knowing you were in danger and might do something stupid. “Dammit, (Y/N),” he mumbled. Suddenly, his phone rang, and he answered the video call, settling his phone in a cradle on his dash so he could pay attention to the road as well as the video.

“Well, well, well,” Yates’s voice rang out. “If it isn’t the infamous Detective Dawson. You should’ve kept a closer eye on her. You know you can’t save her now, right? She’s going to be mine.”

“Like hell she is!”

“But she’s rushing to my side. She’s coming to save me. And then she’ll be mine. She’ll be mine forever. I’ll be the last thing she sees. The last thing she feels. My name will be the last word on her lips. And you? You will be nothing.”

“You really think that? No. She doesn’t love you. None of those girls loved you!”

Yates huffed and rolled his eyes. “Dear Antonio Dawson, doesn’t even know what love is. Love is seeing the life go out in her eyes, slowly fading away, while she grips to you and pleads out your name.”

Antonio hit the gas pedal to the floor, gripping the wheel as tightly as he could. He was so ready to beat Yates to a pulp. “You lay one finger on her, and I’ll kill you myself.”

“It’ll have been worth it in the end, because she’ll join me in the afterlife.” Yates then looked up, smiling. “Oh, she’s here. I’ll see you soon, Antonio.” The call promptly ended.

Antonio punched his steering wheel, growling as he raced across the busy Chicago city to save you.

--

You climbed the steps, your gun gripped between your hands, finger on the trigger. You found Yates in a room upstairs with a large hole in the floor. He was holding Nelly’s father over the hole in a chair, a noose wrapped around his neck. “Hello there,” he said softly. “Oh, (Y/N), please come in.”

“Let him go.”

“I don’t think you want me to do that… You know I’m the only thing that’s holding him up, right?”

You sighed, then pulled your hands up, holstering your gun. “Fine. Then let’s talk. You untie him and let him leave here. Then you and I can talk.”

Yates hummed, looking you over. You disliked the way his eyes roamed your body, swallowing hard. He smiled a little. “Uncomfortable?” He asked. “I’m just undressing you a little. I wonder what you look like under there.”

You bit your inner lip, trying to keep your hands from shaking. “Just let him leave here, and we’ll talk. Just you and me. You know you’re running out of time.”

Yates hummed again, then sighed. “Yes, well, he will have to leave here, won’t he?” And with that, he let the chair go, the man going over. The chair fell to the ground, but the man hung in the hole. You gasped, looking down at him. Yates took the chance to grab you, pushing you against the wall. He let his hands roam your body, including your chest and crotch. You cried out, hands pinned at your sides as he pushed his body weight against you, then eventually pushing you to the ground. “You’re everything I imagined you to be, (Y/N),” he mumbled, pushing his lips to your neck and biting down, making you cry out in pain as his teeth broke your skin. He then sucked and licked at the mark he’d given you, grinding down on you, as he was now on top.

You panicked, whimpering and trying to get to the gun on your hip. He growled and pushed down on you harder. “Stop it. Stop!” He grabbed at your arms to subdue you. “Stop fucking fighting me! Stop it, or I’ll fucking kill you! Just like Nadia! Just like those nurses! Just like all the others!”

In the chaos, finally, you grabbed the gun and pointed it at him, shooting him in the chest. The bullet went straight through his heart.

He fell limp immediately on top of you, his blood pouring onto your body from the wound. You cried out again, tears rolling down your face as you pushed his body weight off you. Then, you stood and pointed the gun at him, your hands shaking, ready to pull the trigger if he moves again, even twitched. You didn’t take your eyes off him.

Antonio and Voight got there very soon after, seeing the scene, and you shaking. Voight slowly pushed your arms down to lower your gun. Antonio checked the body, confirming he was dead.

“I-I-I had to,” you mumbled, sniffling and breathing shakily as sobs came to your throat. “I had to!”

“I know,” Voight said softly, gently taking your gun from you and putting it in his own waistband. “It’s okay, (Y/N).”

Antonio came to you quickly, checking you over. He examined your chest, where the blood had stained your shirt, but finding no injury, he turned to your neck. “Hey, we’ll get an ambo here to check you out.”

“Antonio…” you whimpered, your knees buckling beneath you.

He caught you with ease, picking you up bridal style and carrying you out of the room and downstairs. He set you down outside in the grass, still holding you up to stand. “It’s okay, (Y/N), it’s okay. He hurt you. It was a clean shoot.”

“I-I…” You sobbed softly into his shoulder as he held you tightly. “H-He…”

“Shh,” he shushed you. “You don’t have to explain to me. It’s okay. It’s all okay.”

--

Hours later, after speaking with internal affairs, the paramedics, and anyone else who had questions, you were finally allowed to go home.

Antonio drove you, holding your hand the whole time. Then, he escorted you up to your apartment and inside, helping you into your bedroom. He helped you undress, taking the blood-stained clothes and throwing them in the trash. He knew exactly how you felt about them, without you even having to say. He helped you into the shower, then let you have some time alone as he made some tea for you.

You turned the shower hotter, as hot as it would go, letting it scald your skin. You didn’t know what else to do. You didn’t know what to feel. You didn’t know what to say. The knot in your stomach intensified, making you sick. You heaved up the contents of your stomach and then some, feeling like you had thrown up your entire insides. Your throat burned as you watched it wash down the drain. You fell to your knees as your body betrayed you, sobbing softly. You simultaneously felt everything and nothing. You were so overwhelmed that you were numb. You sobbed yourself sick, heaving now as nothing else came up. You pushed your head against the shower wall, which was cool in comparison to the water. You sobbed and heaved, trembling on the floor of your shower for what felt like days, though only mere minutes before you regained yourself. Your body was still weak, but you managed to turn the shower off. The steam hugged you, even in the absence of the scalding water. You slowly pushed yourself up to get out, then got a towel to dry yourself. You sat on the toilet, swallowing hard as you played out the scenario in your mind, over and over.

What had you been thinking? Antonio was right. You never should’ve left the district. You would’ve been safe there. You trembled as the air grew cooler, leaving bitter kisses on your wet skin. You swallowed hard again, then stood, stumbling into your bedroom and finding some clothes to put on. You were able to find some underpants, but then you found some old sweatpants of Antonio’s that he had left previously. You also found one of his old CPD shirts from the academy. Putting them on, the smell of him comforted you in his physical absence. It helped to soothe your mind, thus soothing your body.

Moving shakily into the living area of your apartment, you looked around for Antonio. He was in the attached kitchen, looking at something on the counter, then turning around with two mugs of tea in his hands. He stopped when he saw you. “Hey…” he said softly. “You look pale…”

You blinked slowly, suddenly exhausted. You moved to the couch, sitting down on one side of it. Antonio moved in beside you, setting the mugs on your coffee table. He put his hands to your face, his fingers surprisingly cold. It felt good to you. You leaned into his touch and closed your eyes.

“(Y/N)…” he murmured, gently holding your face. “What you did in there… it was the right thing to do…”

“I don’t want to talk about it,” you mumbled. “Please… just… hold me…”

“I can do that,” he whispered, nodding and pulling you into his lap, allowing you to sit sidesaddle. He brushed wet strands of hair from your face, grabbing your mug of tea for you. “Here, sip.”

“Toni…” you mumbled, shaking your head. “I just threw up all of my insides…”

“Just sip. You’ll feel better. Please.”

You sighed, but took a small sip of the tea, swallowing it before resting your head on his shoulder. He set the tea down, and rocked you gently, kissing your head and whispering sweet things in your ear for a while before just rocking you in silence.

“I’m sorry,” you finally whispered, breaking the silence.

“(Y/N)…”

“I should’ve listened to you… to Voight…”

Antonio sighed softly. “What’s done is done… I am always here for you… no matter what you choose. I just… I almost lost you today… I never want to lose you. You and my kids, you’re the best things to ever happen to me. I never want to lose any of you. That’s why I have this job. Taking these guys off the streets so that they don’t hurt you or Diego or Eva.”

“I know,” you mumbled, pushing your face into his neck, accidentally reminding yourself of the bite mark on your own. Your hand moved up to feel at the tender skin, wincing as you ran the pads of your fingers across every groove his teeth had left. You sniffled, trying not to cry again.

“Hey, hey,” Antonio gently grabbed your hand, holding it instead so you couldn’t feel the mark. “Shh, you’re safe now. I’ve got you. I’ve always got you.”

“I love you,” you whispered, sniffling again as a stray tear escaped your eye.

“I love you too, (Y/N).” He rubbed your back with his free hand, just holding you, all night long.

[chicago-pd-is-weird]

Hotchner and Reid reminds me so much of Hank and Antonio from PD. Like their dynamic, but also this one episode I watched in S2 that was about Reid getting kidnapped?? And the way he hugged Hotch at the end and said “I knew you’d understand.” I love them.

[chicago-pd-is-weird]

Hank Voight x Fem!Reader Oneshot (Part 2)

TW: Passing mentions of domestic violence

Synopsis: Reader recovers, but a year later, Hank is out of jail and he takes an interest in Reader. Reader doesn’t know how to feel.

You were discharged from the hospital after a few weeks, seeing as you were in no hurry to leave. After that, you went to District 21 with Trudy, filing multiple police reports and filling out so much paperwork that your head spun afterward. Trudy then took you out to get lunch, but you didn’t eat much. She helped you get onto your feet again, letting you stay with her for a few weeks until you could find a job and an apartment.

Truthfully, the job search was hard considering you had no experience, and you had a fifteen year gap in your resume. When you got back to Trudy’s place that night, you felt defeated. You’d been desperate and it showed, not to mention your still partially nourished, bruised body. You barely ate when left to your own devices, and didn’t eat much of whatever Trudy made you. You were grateful, but used to not eating. As you kicked off your shoes and shrugged off your coat, you let out a breath of relief. Being in Trudy’s house made you feel safe, if nothing else. You nearly took care of your coat and shoes before walking in.

“Hey, how was it today?” Trudy asked from the kitchen, stirring a pot of something.

“No luck,” you replied, sitting at the island and putting your head into your hands. “I’m sorry, I really am trying, I just-“

“Hey, that’s enough of that. Don’t worry about it.”

“I feel like I’m taking advantage of you, Trudy. I’m sorry, I should’ve just stayed with him and-“

Trudy quickly turned from the stove, walking over and pulling your hands from your face with a gentle firmness. “That’s enough, (Y/N). I’d rather you be here to take advantage of me than not be living at all. Why don’t you go get a shower and clear your head? Wash it away.”

You nodded as you looked into her eyes. ‘Wash it away’ was a phrase the both of you often used to shake off the events of any given day. “Thank you…” you mumbled, then slowly pulled from her touch and moved upstairs to take a shower.

When you came back downstairs, Trudy had a soup prepared on the table for you. She’d given you just a small bowl, knowing you didn’t eat much at all. “Hey, feeling a little better?”

“Yeah,” you replied with a small nod as you sat down. “Thanks, this smells really good.”

“It’s broccoli cheddar soup with some mini sausages in it. I have some crackers here, too, so feel free to put some in if you want.” Trudy smiled softly and beside you at the table. “And, if you want more, there’s plenty left.”

“Thank you,” you repeated. “It’s so nice to have you… Voight was right to point me this way.”

“Hank knows everyone in one way or another. He was dealing with a lot the day you reached out to him. I remember him talking about how he almost didn’t show up when you asked.”

“What made him come, then?”

“Well, he thought it was some kind of trap by IAD to prove he was working with Maurice. That he was a dirty cop.” Trudy shrugged as she took a spoonful of soup and blew on it. “But, I convinced him that somebody might really be in trouble, and that’s always worth fighting for. We couldn’t risk it if your story was real. Which it was.”

You looked down at the steaming bowl of soup, wondering where you’d be if Hank hadn’t come that day. Probably dead. You looked back up at Trudy and nodded. “Thank you,” you said softly. “I owe you everything.”

“Don’t mention it.” Trudy offered a small smile, which you returned as you took a bite of the soup. “Hey, listen, there’s a spot open at the district for a civilian records keeper. It’s yours if you want it.”

You looked up. “Really…?”

“Yeah, of course. I already cleared it with the commander.”

You couldn’t help but smile a little wider. “I owe you everything, once again.”

Trudy reached across the table to hold your hand. “I only want to see you happy.”

—

10 months later

—

Finally, everything had gone through for your divorce and restraining order. You’d quickly taken to the position in records and although it was tedious work, you loved having it nevertheless. You’d gotten your own apartment close to the district and worked very hard in the meantime to pay Trudy back for every penny she spotted you while you were down. You often made her meals and brought her lunch, as well as surprised her with little things here and there when possible. Your budget was tight, but you made it work and saved up some money while paying down your credit card debt. You found out how good you really were with numbers at that point, and although you scrimped and saved, you were able to budget all of these things in and still keep money in your new bank account.

As you walked into the 21st District that morning, something seemed off. Many of the officers around had been whispering amongst themselves. You furrowed your brow as you approached the front desk, where Trudy was looking down at some paperwork. “Hey, Sergeant…” you said softly, looking up at her. “What’s going on? Did I miss something?”

She looked down at you. “You didn’t know?”

You shook your head, furrowing your brow.

“Voight’s out of prison.”

You blinked. You hadn’t visited Voight in a long time, not since just after Trudy took you in. “He’s out?”

“And he’s assigned to the Intelligence Unit as the new Sergeant in the 21st District.”

You turned around as the whispering grew silent, Voight walking in the doors behind you. “Ah, it’s good to be back in the 21st. Trudy, nice to see you.”

Trudy nodded. “You too, Hank.”

“And who is that? (Y/N)? You look much better than the last time I saw you.”

You blushed from embarrassment at being called out in front of everyone. You waved a bit and nodded. “Hey, Voight…”

“Sergeant Voight,” the commander’s voice boomed from his office. “In here, now.”

Voight smiled and walked through to the commander’s office, shutting the door. You breathed out, blinking. You weren’t sure why you’d been so tense. Voight had helped you, so he was alright in your book despite being a dirty cop. You bit your lip and looked up at Trudy once again.

Trudy glanced at you, then looked at the other officers. “Get back to work, everyone. Let’s go.” When she looked at you once more, she nodded. “You okay?”

“Yeah, I… I don’t know why I’m so tense. Maybe it’s just the others in the room.”

“Alright. Let me know if you need anything.”

You nodded and walked behind the desk and into the back rooms, starting your morning duties.

—

Weeks went by, and every time Voight came through and smiled at you, you visibly shuddered. You had no idea what was causing it, but you typically mirrored his smile and sometimes waved. It was an odd feeling, almost as if he reminded you of that time when you were under your husband’s thumb. You knew that wasn’t it, but couldn’t find any better explanation for what you had felt every time he was near you.

One day, you were working in the basement, filing some records, when someone came up behind you. You turned your head, jumping a bit when you saw a male figure, whipping your body to match your gaze. When you found it was just Voight, you let out a long breath. “Damn it, you scared me.”

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to. I wanted to check up on you, without anyone’s prying eyes or ears. How have you been?”

You looked him over. His hands were shoved in his pockets and his body was relaxed, looking at your face. You nodded as you met his eyes. “I’ve been alright, Sergeant.” Somehow, you were still tense around him, but that wasn’t quite it. It was a feeling you couldn’t describe. Your stomach was in knots. Your face got hot. You bit your lip. “Trudy helped me get on my feet. Thank you… for everything you did on your end. I’m sorry it was such an inopportune time.”

“Don’t worry about it. I’m just glad it worked out, (Y/N). And, call me Hank.”

You nodded. “Of course… Hank.” You crossed your arms over your chest, rubbing them. “How is intelligence? I heard you have Dawson and Willhite up there. They’re good. They helped get me out of there.”

“That’s why I chose them. My unit will be only the best, the handpicked people.” He hummed, looking around, then back at you. “In fact, I was wondering if you’d like to come work upstairs with me.”

“U-Upstairs? In Intelligence? I hardly think I’m qualified to-“

“You’d do fine. Just think about it,” he said with a small shrug. “If you want to, I’ll clear it with Trudy and the commander.” He turned around as you walked past him, back upstairs behind you. “Just give me an answer in a few days.”

“Wait,” you said softly, stopping halfway up the steps and turning to look at him. “Why me?”

He moved up so he was on the same step as you, your bodies nearly touching, making you blush deeply. “Because, (Y/N),” he whispered. “You’re smart, you’re kind, and you’re beautiful. I love seeing your face every day.” He leaned down, pressing a soft kiss to your cheek. “Take a few days to think about it, then find me.” With that, he moved up the stairs and back into the district.

You stood, gripping the railing, left speechless. Your stomach turned now, but not in a bad way. Your knees were weak, your breath taken away by the former dirty cop. One hand moved to touch your cheek where his lips had landed, and you were frozen in time for several moments, replaying the interaction in your mind. It wasn’t until someone opened the door and found you on the steps were you pulled back to reality, clearing your throat and pardoning yourself past them. You went to the bathroom and locked yourself in a stall, regulating your breathing as you figured out what you felt for the Sergeant.

You hadn’t been able to put a word to the feelings you’d been facing the last few weeks ever since Voight came back. You’d never felt them before, or rather, not in over ten years. Not since your former husband has wooed you the first time. You were terrified of this feeling of… love? Is that even what you’d call it? You took half an hour to think, regulating your breathing as you brought yourself back down to reality.

When you exited the bathroom, Trudy caught your gaze, motioning you over. You nodded and walked to her desk just as Voight passed by with Dawson and Willhite. You caught Vought’s eyes and he nodded with a small smile, just as he usually did. You couldn’t help but smile back. He liked your smile. It made you want to smile more.

Trudy caught this interaction, then put her hand on your shoulder. “Alright. Dinner tonight. My place. You’re going to spill it.”

You looked at Trudy, blushing heavily. “I… okay.”

.

After shift that day, Trudy drove you to her place, where she started dinner. Once she had it cooking, you sitting at the island, she turned to face you. “Alright. Spill it.”

You laughed awkwardly, having not said much this entire time. “Spill what?”

“You and Voight. Didn’t he go down into records?”

“Y-Yeah? So?” You blushed simply thinking about the interaction you’d had with the Sergeant just hours before, and the offer he’d made you.

“So… spill it. What happened that made you run into the bathroom so quickly after?”

“I, uh…” You bit your lip, not meeting her eyes as you stated at the granite countertop below you. “Uh…”

“(Y/N)? Are you alright?”

You looked up quickly. “Yes, yes, I’m alright. It’s alright. Nothing… nothing and happened. At least, I didn’t think it was bad.”

“So what did happen, then?”

“He, uh, just wanted to talk to me for a minute about how I was doing and all of that. And he offered me a spot in Intelligence.”

“Uh huh?” Trudy asked, urging for more.

“And… so I asked why me, and he said because I’m… I’m beautiful… and kind and smart and… he likes seeing my face every day…” You blushed deeply, your voice growing softer with each passing word. “And then he… he kissed my cheek…”

Trudy’s mouth dropped in shock. She had no idea Hank Voight would ever make a move like that. “He kissed your cheek??”

“Y-Yeah… is… is that bad? Should I, uhm, say something or…?”

“Well, were you okay with it?”

You nodded a little. “I think so, yeah… It caught me by surprise. I’ve been so tense around him but… I don’t think it was fear. I think I was just nervous. He’s… he’s attractive.” You shrugged. “Am I… trauma bonding to him? Because of Jeff? Should I… tell him to stop?”

“Hey, (Y/N), I won’t tell you who you can and can’t date. Hank is… he’s a good man, despite the dirty cop run he had. He was grieving. He lost his wife to cancer, what, three years ago now? I’m just glad he’s moving on and focusing on other things.”

“He… lost his wife to cancer?” You frowned. “That’s so sad… I could never replace his wife.”

Trudy hummed and nodded, turning to the stove to stir the pan. “You won’t replace Camille. Nobody can. But maybe you can help him find happiness again and get back on the right path. The only reason he ever went off the deep end was because she wasn’t there to hold him back anymore. He had to pay for her cancer treatments somehow, and he just never stopped taking the bribes.”

You frowned and looked down. “Maybe this is a bad idea… Maybe he’s not over her and he’s going to use me to grieve more…”

“Hey, Hank wouldn’t do that,” Trudy said, coming over to the island and holding one of your hands. “He’s a good guy. If you tell him to back off, he will. Maybe you should talk to him and tell him what you’re thinking. If it’s a no, then he’ll respect your choice.”

You sighed. “I just… I think I… have butterflies around him but I haven’t felt like this in over ten years. I mean, I don’t even know how to date anymore.”

Trudy laughed softly, shaking her head. “Tomorrow, why don’t you grab lunch for the two of you and just eat in his office. Very informal, and you can talk to him, alright?”

You nodded slowly, looking at Trudy. She seemed to be harboring some excitement for you, or maybe for Hank. You knew Trudy knew Hank for a long time and personally. “Why not you?”

She seemed taken aback by the question, stopping and staring at you. “What?”

“Why not you and Hank? You guys know one another. Seems like you know a lot about him, at least.”

She scoffed. “It’s my job to know a lot about everybody.” She stood and went back to the stove. “Hank and I just aren’t like that with each other. Never have been, even before he met Camille.”

“You’re saying you never had a crush on him?”

Trudy rolled her eyes and looked at you over her shoulder. “I never said that, but it wasn’t anything. When a male is kind to you in a hostile world, you tend to latch on to those things. I was young, and nothing ever came of it. We settled into a friendship role, maybe even a family role.” She hiked her shoulders and turned off the stove. “I could never see myself with him, even then. I just convinced myself I could.”

You hummed, then moved off the stool to set the table as Trudy finished putting dinner together. The two of you ate together and had some wine before you went home, lying awake in bed and contemplating what to say to Hank Voight the next day.

—

When he walked by you the next morning, you smiled, a more genuine smile than forced one. It made him look twice, seeing you smile genuinely. His lips pulled up in a smile just the same, barely watching here he was walking as he nearly ran into a beat officer. You laughed a little, both of you blushing as you shared a small moment that nobody else seemed to notice, not even Trudy, seeing as she was in the back at the time.

You thought about Hank’s offer once again. You’d be able to see him every day. But, he would be your boss. How would that even work? You hummed as you went to work, a small grin still on your face.

—

When lunch rolled around, you checked your watch, then moved upstairs and tapped Trudy’s arm softly. “Buzz me up?” You grabbed your lunch cooler from under the counter and slung it over your shoulder.

“Sure,” she replied, nodding to you.

You walked over to the cage, opening the door when Trudy buzzed you in. Then, you climbed the steps and looked around. You’d only been up to Intelligence a few times, only to bring files up. You typically never got further than Antonio’s desk before someone took them from you and sent you packing. That day, most of the Intelligence unit was gone. Only detectives Olinsky and Halstead were left, both sitting at their desks, chatting to one another. Hank was in his office, working on some paperwork.

Mustering all the confidence you had, you walked straight through the bullpen and into the doorway of Hank’s office. You knocked on the doorframe softly as he looked up, smiling at him. “Hey. Have you eaten yet?”

Hank hummed and sat up in his seat, having been leaning over before. “No, I haven’t,” he said softly, motioning you inside.

You shut the door behind you, sitting down across from him and pulling things from the cooler you’d since set down. “I figured we could talk and eat,” you replied. “Turkey or ham?”

Hank looked you over. “You didn’t have to do this, (Y/N).”

You blushed, but pulled out a chilled water bottle and set it in front of him. “Turkey or Ham?” You insisted.

Hank was silent for a moment, meeting your eyes. Your previously mustered confidence was the only thing holding you together, and it was quickly fading as Hank challenged your kindness. He didn’t mean to, it was simply his demeanor. “Ham,” he finally said.

You held out the chilled ham sandwich you’d prepared that morning, allowing him to take it as you cleared your throat, taking a moment to breathe before speaking again. “I just wanted to talk to you, ya know?”

“Okay,” Hank said, nodding and taking a bite from the sandwich. “About what?”

“About yesterday.” You took a bite of your sandwich as well to buy yourself some time. Everything you’d thought of went out the window as the butterflies set in. Hank’s presence was enough to make your head spin, let alone being in a room alone with him. “I, uh, thought about your offer a lot.”

“Mmhm?” Hank hummed as he chewed another bite, looking at you.

You blushed when you met his eyes, looking at your feet, using your free hand to wipe something off of your pants. “Yeah, I… I think… I think what happened was you offered me two things.”

Hank nodded, still looking at you. “I guess maybe I did.”

You looked up to meet his eyes. “Then you know… that those two offers conflict.”

His chocolate eyes ran their way over your figure, then back to your face as Hank nodded. “I suppose they do.”

“So you understand… I can only accept one of those offers. Not because I don’t want both, but because I can’t have both.”

“Which one, then?” Hank asked bluntly, his voice quieter as the tension became thicker between the two of you. He leaned forward in his seat again as he set down his sandwich.

You bit your lip, your chest growing tighter as you swallowed hard. “I… can’t join Intelligence.”

Hank stared at you, a small smile pulling at the corner of his mouth. “I understand,” he said softly. “I think that’s a wise choice, though maybe I’m just partial to that option.”

You blushed, nodding slowly, looking down again and picking a hair off your sleeve, then looking back up. “You… really want someone as broken as me?”

Hank let out a small laugh. “(Y/N), you’re not broken. I mean, you’re one of the strongest people I know. What you overcame and what you did to overcome it, that’s ballsy, to say the least. I mean, making Maurice Owens find you a dirty cop to help solve your issues?”

“Yeah,” you muttered, remembering you still hadn’t paid him back for that.

When your eyes moved to the floor once again, Hank noticed the troubled look on your face. “What’s the matter?”

“I forgot that I owe Maurice for a few favors. I don’t even know what he wants.” You sighed. “Shit… probably sex or money.”

Hank shook his head, getting up from his seat and walking over, then crouching in front of you, taking your chin gently in his fingers. You met his eyes again. “Don’t worry about it. I’ll pay Maurice off.”

“But… Are you still out there? Dirty?” You suddenly had second thoughts. If Hank was a dirty cop, he would take you down with him. On the other hand, you couldn’t go much lower than you’d already gone with Jeff.

“Don’t worry about it,” he said softly. “When the time comes, I’ll explain, okay?”

“I just… if we get serious, and you’re dirty, it could-“

“I would never let that happen. Do you trust me?”

You scoffed a little, a small smile pulling at your lips. “I trusted you with my life. It would be silly to stop now.”

“Then know that when I say I would never let anything happen to you because of me, I mean it. I’ll protect you.” His opposite hand was placed on your knee, his eyes looking intently into yours. “I’ll pay Maurice off on your behalf, alright?”

“You really don’t have to do that, Hank, I… I owe him a lot. He said it was doubled at one point… I-“

Hank gently shushed you, rubbing his thumb over your bottom lip as he cupped your face. “I’ve got it. Trust me.”

You nodded slowly. “Okay,” you whispered, leaning into his hand. His touches were so gentle, more so than any man you’d experienced before. For having a bad reputation, Voight didn’t seem all that bad. He was certainly better than Jeff. You understood why Trudy was close with him despite his dirty dealings.

“Okay,” he affirmed, smiling at you. You couldn’t help but smile back, and for just a moment, the world went away. Your horrible past, Voight’s horrible past, the debts you owed to Maurice, it all went away. You gazed into his chocolate brown eyes, his hands now gently holding yours, his smile wrapping you up and making you feel safer than ever. You knew you were making the right choice at that point. “Thank you, Hank.”

[chicago-pd-is-weird]

Then you’d be completely correct and also I would cry very much. 😭 It’s so true I didn’t even have to read your reblog to think of them immediately.

i think 'I trust you with my life but not your own' as a trope is one of the ones that can always fuck me up no matter what

[hollywoodoutbreak]

Despite recent shortened seasons due to the pandemic and industry strikes, Chicago P.D. is back in full force for its 12th season, captivating audiences once again. Star Jason Beghe, who has anchored the show as Sergeant Hank Voight since its debut, returns with a renewed passion. He's tackling the challenges of a full season head-on, embracing the demanding workload with his characteristic intensity.

Don't miss Chicago P.D. Wednesday nights at 10/9c on NBC and streaming the next day on Peacock.

[nctzen4life]

I feel like Sergeant Hank Voight and Detective Elliott Stabler would have been great friends...🤔

[sabrinajenre96]

Legacy and Loyalty

Pairing: Tim Bradford x Detective!Reader (Voight's daughter)

Fandoms: The Rookie x Chicago P.D. (Crossover)

Word Count: ~1.4k

Warnings: Mild language, canon-typical mentions of police work, brief mention of past heartbreak (Jay Halstead), protective dad Voight energy, light humor, implied established marriage, surprise reunions

Summary: Five years ago, you left Chicago and the shadow of your past behind for a fresh start in L.A. Now a respected detective, married to grumpy training officer Tim Bradford and part of an elite trio with Harper and Lopez, you’ve built a life you love. But when your father, Sergeant Hank Voight, shows up with members of Intelligence for a joint case, your two worlds collide—and the rookies are in for a shock.

Los Angeles, 8:06 AM

Y/N Voight-Bradford was six minutes late, and for once, it wasn’t her fault.

Kojo, her overly spoiled German Shepherd-mix rescue, had gone full couch-potato mode and refused to budge when she tried to leave for work. Add in a punk who tried to jack her car while she was inside grabbing her morning cappuccino, and she’d already made one arrest before clocking in.

Waltzing into Mid-Wilshire’s briefing room with a hint of dried coffee on her sleeve and a hair out of place, Y/N exhaled and muttered to herself.

“Happy Thursday.”

She pushed the door open.

And froze.

Standing at the front of the room in full command presence: Sergeant Hank Voight, her father.

Flanking him like loyal hounds—Detectives Ruzek, Burgess, and Atwater. Straight from Chicago’s Intelligence Unit, oozing authority and watchfulness.

“Son of a...” she whispered.

Across the room, Nolan, Lucy, and Jackson looked like deer in headlights. Angela raised a brow, clearly amused. Nyla Harper smirked in that “I’ve been in scarier rooms” kind of way. And poor Tim Bradford, her ever-grumpy husband, looked ready to bolt for the exit.

“Sorry I’m late,” Y/N said, setting her cappuccino down on the desk. “Had to arrest a carjacker and argue with a dog.”

Voight turned, steel-eyed but smiling faintly. “Still making a scene everywhere you go?”

Y/N smirked, walked over, and gave him a brief, warm hug. “You’re one to talk.”

The rookies stared in shock.

“You two... know each other?” Lucy finally dared to ask.

Voight turned, expression neutral. “I’m her father.”

Silence. Absolute, stunned silence.

“You mean like... biological father?” Nolan blurted.

Y/N turned around, casually sipping her cappuccino. “Shocking, I know. What gave it away? The mutual scowling or the matching death stares?”

“Wait—Voight? As in Voight Voight?” Jackson’s voice cracked.

Ruzek chuckled. “You didn’t tell your team you’re legacy?”

“I told them I came from Chicago,” Y/N shrugged. “Didn’t feel the need to drop the ‘Sergeant Voight is my dad’ bomb right away. Might’ve caused... panic.”

“Too late,” Nolan mumbled.

Angela and Nyla exchanged impressed looks. “She fits right in with us,” Nyla said. “Voight. Lopez. Harper. Elite trio of terrifying women.”

Tim stood and approached Hank, extending a hand. “Sergeant. Good to see you again.”

Hank took it without hesitation. “Bradford. You keeping her in check?”

Tim grunted. “I try. Dog’s worse.”

Before Voight could reply, Smitty barged into the room like he’d just won the lottery.

“Bradford!” he called out. “Someone’s asking for you.”

Tim started to rise.

“No, not you,” Smitty clarified. He pointed straight at Y/N. “Her Bradford.”

Another pause.

Ruzek blinked. “Her Bradford?”

Y/N didn’t miss a beat. “At work, I go by Voight. I only added ‘Bradford’ in legal files—maiden name stays in the field.”

Atwater’s jaw dropped slightly. “Wait... You married him?”

“Guilty,” Y/N said, raising her hand half-heartedly.

Ruzek turned to Voight, jaw slack. “And you’re okay with this? He’s still breathing?”

Voight gave Tim a firm nod. “Bradford made a good impression. Smart, solid. Doesn't have that savior complex Jay had. Trusts her to handle herself.”

Burgess beamed. “I’m so damn happy for you, Y/N. Seriously.”

Atwater nodded. “We always knew you’d find someone who got you.”

Ruzek gave Tim a playful elbow. “Guess we’ve gotta make room for you at the cool table now.”

Tim sighed. “As long as there’s coffee.”

Voight looked around the room, then fixed his gaze on the rookies still reeling in silence. “Relax. I’m not here to bury anyone.”

Lucy raised her hand slowly. “Just... to clarify. You’re Y/N Voight. Daughter of that Voight. Married to Tim Bradford. You arrested someone this morning. And you have a dog named Kojo who refuses to walk?”

Y/N grinned. “You’ve been paying attention. Good cop instincts.”

Tim looked at her with exasperated affection. “I told you keeping Kojo was a mistake.”

“Too late,” she replied sweetly, walking back to her seat beside him. “He’s family. Like the rest of you weirdos.”

The door closed behind Smitty. Voight stepped up beside Ruzek and clapped his hands.

“Now that family reunions are out of the way—let’s talk about the case.”