#sergeant voight

[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...🤔

[ho-ii]

Shawn Hatosy as Charlie Reid in Chicago P.D | S12 - E22.

[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.”

[x51163]

just thinking about this

[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]

^^^^^ Myself and @creativeimagination206 writing Hank Voight and the Crackhead Detective

Oopsie poopsie.

*thinks up an idea for a silly quick piece* okay haha let's whip something up real quick

*idea gets more complicated*

*idea gets more complicated*

*idea gets more complicated*

*idea gets more complicated*

oh no

[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.

[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.”

[witchygagirlwrites]

Let Me Decide

Hank Voight x Reader

You're a lot younger than Hank, hell you should've never looked his way considering you work at firehouse 51 and yet you couldn't resist the sergeant of the intelligence unit. When a bad day happens you take your back and forth with him into your own hands.

You hopped out of the ambulance, grabbing your med bag and looking over at Sylvie. You hated responding to a shooting because you never knew just what the hell you were walking into.  Especially when intelligence was involved.

The two of you met the patrolman that was covering the outside of the house “Well I hope no one is dying considering none of you seem to be in a god awful rush” you told him and saw Sylvie smirk slightly. He shook his head “No ma'am. Sergeant Voight just wanted one of his detectives checked out along with the perp before rolling out”

You rolled your eyes “Always a pleasure to act as his personal rolling clinic” “Well if it isn't my favorite Paramedic” You glanced up the steps to see Voight himself standing in the threshold of the house. 

You hated how damn attracted you were to him. He was quite a bit older than you, his son Justin was just a couple years behind you in high school. He had a hell of a reputation in Chicago and around your station house. He did things his own way and sometimes, well  most of the time those ways were less than morally north.

But he also ran the most successful unit in the CPD. The men and women under him were your friends. He worked non-stop no matter the case and no matter the background of the victim. He may be a little more on the grey side of the moral scale but the results spoke for themselves. He went at every one the same. Brown eyes, that damn gravel filled voice that went straight through you and that fucking smirk that drove you bat shit every time you had to respond to a call he was at.  

“Hello to you too Voight. I see you're fine so which of your detectives got hurt?” You asked, walking up to meet him. He held open the door, letting Sylvie in first then his eyes trailed over you “Ruzek rolled his ass up chasing the perp. I need to see if a trip to med is needed”

You shook your head “Ok then, show us to them”

You were sitting at the bar in Mollys eyeing the most recent concoction Herrman had sat in front of you, Cruz, Jay and Adam. “Boys, I don't think this is a case of ladies first. Besides if either of you go down don't you want me still standing to render aid?” You asked, looking between them.

Adam shrugged and tipped the green liquid back, grimacing slightly but then he shrugged “Not that bad actually” 

You watched him for a second before saying “Fuck it” and tipped back your own shot. You saw why he grimaced. It was very limey but for one of Herrmans mixes it was good. “Not bad” you nodded so Jay and Cruz followed after you.

Cruz motioned to Herrman for another round. Adam cut his eyes at Jay who shook his head. “Ok detectives. What was that about?” You asked, seeing Jay shoot Adam a glare before Adam turned to face you, leaning one arm on the bar “What's with you and Voight?”

“What do you mean?” You asked, looking between him and Jay. Cruz laughed “She's a little oblivious fellas” you spun around to face him and he threw his hands up “I think I just heard Kelly call me…from the other side of the bar” 

“Coward” you called after him before leveling Jay with a look “Halstead” he punched Adam's arm before saying “You and him flirt…like a lot.”

“I do not flirt with Voight” you argued, feeling your face warm. Adam nodded slowly “Yeah, Sure ya don't. And he doesn't get pissy when we have to roll an ambo any time it's not your shift so that means he hasn't gotten to see you”

“What?” You laughed and Jay shrugged “Just an observation” “about what?” Kevin asked as him, Hailey and Kim joined the three of you. “Voight's thing for her”

Your mouth fell open at Adam's answer but then Kevin nodded “Oh yeah. It's hilarious when we work a scene with fifty one. Ain't never seen Voight get dog walked before then” 

“Oh my god. I do not!” You gasped and Kim patted your back “Honey, ya kinda do” 

You shook your head “For fucks sake. You six are like kids trying to get your dad a date” Hailey shrugged “Maybe he'd get in a better mood” and all of you busted out laughing.

A week passed and you didn't give much more thought to their teasing. Hell Hank Voight struck you as the type of man that if he wanted something he'd go after it.

A call rang out summoning an ambulance to the north side. Sylvie slapped your foot where you’d had it propped up on the chair in front of you, currently beating Kelly at a game of poker “C’mon partner. We gotta go” you tossed your cards down and pointed at Kelly “I’ll get you later Severide” 

The two of you headed out to the bays and climbed into the rig with you driving. She shot you a smile as you pulled out onto the road. At least it was a nice day, winter was finally breaking and the roads weren’t iced over. 

“I’ll buy lunch since you bought breakfast” she offered and you grinned “You just want an excuse to hide from Matt” she raised an eyebrow “Says the lady who literally hid behind Chief the last time we worked a scene with PD so you wouldn’t have to talk to Voight!” 

You opened your mouth to argue but knew that would only push her point further. When you clamped your mouth closed she giggled, honest to god giggled. “I knew it! You have a thing for him! Hello daddy issues” your mouth fell open “Sylvie Brett!”

She shrugged “If it makes you happy and he treats you good” you shook your head “He doesn’t treat me anyway. Now no more teasing, we’re to the address”

___________

Hank was in his office when Adam walked to the open door and knocked on it “Hey, um boss” he cut his eyes up from the file in his hands “What is it Ruzek?”

“We got a call about a hostage situation. Three civilians and two medics from fifty one” he was on his feet and grabbing his jacket before Adam could finish talking. “Gear up, now!”

__________

Your eyes were glued to the gun in the man’s hand. Unconsciously you moved one hand to push Sylvie behind you. You couldn’t get your partner out of this situation but you’d be damned before you stood there and didn’t try to protect her. 

“What’s the end game here? I mean you have to know SWAT is gonna come through that door” you motioned to the door at the far end of the store. There were a total of five hostages including yourself and Sylvie.  He nodded “Oh, I know” he took a step towards you, close enough the gun brushed against your chest “But luckily for me I got a pretty little paramedic with a big mouth who wants to protect everyone else in here”

You glared at him, keeping one hand on Sylvie. You had to keep him calm until SWAT could respond. That meant staying calm yourself, despite the fear coursing through you. “Whatever you need me to do to get everyone out of here alive” you whispered, feeling your hands tremble. 

The sounds of sirens hit your ears and he smirked at you “Lets see what happens next”

________

He’d had to order the shot. There was no other way to get you out of the situation. When they’d breached you were held against the man’s chest, the barrel of his gun pushed into your temple. Your eyes had widened slightly when you saw Hank but your shoulders had loosened just a bit.

“Listen, you let her go..you got a chance of walking out of here” he tried to offer a way out but when the son of a bitch had the nerve to look him in the eye and smirk before saying “What if I wanna walk out of here with her” he gave the signal to Jay. 

You flinched when the blood splattered across your face but the moment you were free instead of running to Sylvie like he’d expected or to a member of his unit that he knew you were friends with, you ran straight to him. You wrapped both arms around his neck, your muscles fully relaxing once he pulled you to his chest “Thank you. Fuck, thank you. I was so damn scared until I saw it was you. I knew you’d get me out”

____________

You and Sylvie were on the couch in Hank’s office. She had one of Kevin’s spare jackets wrapped around her while Hank had taken the jacket off his back to put around you when a crime scene tech had been forced to take yours for evidence.

For the last couple hours you’d given your statements and both of you had fallen asleep when the adrenaline crashed down. The entire time no one dared to cross the threshold. Hank had told them in no uncertain terms to “Stay the hell out of my office and let them catch their breath”

You curled further into the jacket, the scent of Hank’s cologne comforting you despite everything that happened that day.You’d never been so fucking scared. Your job was insane enough but staring down a barrel of a gun? Having to offer yourself up to get her and innocent people to safety? 

The moment you knew it was Hank..you knew you’d be ok. You knew he’d get you out. You knew he wouldn’t let anything happen to you. Why were you waiting on him to make a move? You knew he was single, knew he had a thing for you as well. Why hadn’t you asked him out? 

 A knock at the door drew your attention and you smiled when Hank walked in, followed by Stella. “Your ride’s here” he teased with a smile. You grinned “Oh thank god, I thought I may have to deal with your driving again” Sylvie shook her head with a small smile “We can go?”

“You’re free to go” he agreed so she walked over to Stella. You started to walk after her and made it halfway into the bullpen before you realized you were still wearing Hank’s jacket. “Let me give his jacket back” you told Stella who nodded “Take your time” 

___________

You walked back to his office and tapped on the open door. He cut his eyes up and smiled when he saw you “Hey sweetheart, you forget something?” you motioned to the jacket “Well sergeant I was stealing this” he shook his head “Keep it. Looks better on you”

You felt your face warm “Hank Voight. Never would have pegged you for a flirt” he shrugged “Only when you’re around apparently” you rolled your lip between your teeth. After the day you had, you weren’t letting an opportunity go by “In that case, you have my number on my statement. Why don’t you use it and come pick me up Friday night?”

He raised an eyebrow “Excuse me?” you grinned “Come on Old man do I gotta spell it out” you stepped further into the office, leaning against the wall not far from his desk “I like you, you’re a pretty good man and damn good looking. I think you like me. So, do you want to go out friday night?”

He stared at you for a moment before shaking his head “You’re damn near young enough to be my kid” you couldn’t have stopped the smirk that slipped onto your face if you’d tried before you asked “Is that your way of telling me you want me to call you daddy? Because damn, at least wait until then”

He laughed “You’re something else you know that?” you nodded “I’ve been told. So, friday?” he smiled “Friday sweetheart”

__________

When you walked out of the office you heard Adam whisper to Hailey “I think we got her” you cut your eyes at him and smirked “I’ll see ya around Ruzek” he grinned “So does this mean I can call you when he’s mean to me?”

You shook your head “Ruz, let me go out on the date first before you want me to protect you. Damn!”

[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]

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.

[witchygagirlwrites]

Hank's Girl

Hank Voight x Reader

Blame @desimarie12 👀 and the 2 energy drinks i've had

You and Hank go to the police gala and run into your ex

Um steamy?!?! Companion piece to Really

Moving in with Hank was a big step. You hadn’t originally wanted to take it, not because you didn’t love him. You loved that man more than was reasonable but that was the house he bought with Camille, the one he raised Justin and finished raising Erin in. You felt like you were intruding on something deep but he was right in the fact that you were paying for rent and all utilities for a place you barely stayed at anymore.

It took you weeks to unpack and even longer to feel comfortable enough to say “Home” instead of “Hank’s” the most hilarious thing was the fact that considering you were friends with members of his unit that meant they now saw the inside of his home, something some of them hadn’t never really had happened. 

Tonight was the police gala. Of course the unit was expected to be in attendance. They all had the options to bring dates. Hailey was going with Jay, Kim with Adam and Kevin was going out with a nurse from med Alicia Jones. All the unit had the benefit of wearing their dress uniforms. You on the other hand ended up having to wrangle Alicia to go shopping with you to find a dress that looked presentable enough to be on a sergeant’s arm.

Hank was down in the kitchen waiting on you but you couldn’t get the damn zipper. “Ugh!” you hollered and heard his laughter drifting up the stairs “Sweetheart?” you grabbed your shoes and hoisted the hem of the dress in your hand to walk downstairs “I can’t get the zipper up any further”

You walked over to where he was sitting in a chair at the table and turned to sit in his lap. He chuckled, hands slipping up your hips before you felt the zipper easily tug up into place. “There ya go princess” you went to stand up and felt his hand slide across your ass so you looked over your shoulder at him and he smirked slightly. You shook your head and slipped your heels on then plunked the first one up onto his chest “Since you’re enjoying dressing me so much” 

He gave you a look that said to enjoy this while it lasted before tying your heel up your ankle then pressing a kiss to the top of your foot. He nodded towards the other foot “Let’s get that one down so we can get going”

You felt Hank’s hand on your lower back as you walked into the gala. Numerous cops filled the area along with their dates. You could’ve cared less about any of them,you were looking for your unit. You spotted Kevin first and tapped Hank’s side “I see the kids baby” he shook his head with a laugh like he did any time you referred to his unit as the kids considering you were in their age range.

He used his hand to guide you through the crowd, his gravel filled voice only having to let out an “Excuse me” once for people to get the point and move the hell out of the way.

When you finally got across to the rest of the unit you smiled when you saw them “My god you all look so good in your dress uniforms!” you complemented, looking them over then smiled at Alicia “And that dress looks gorgeous on you” 

They all thanked you in turn and Adam hugged you with one arm, whispering in your ear “It’s still weird at times seeing him smile” you slapped his chest playfully “Oh hush Ruzek” Kim shook her head as everyone started their own conversations amongst the group. You enjoyed any time you got to spend with them all, even at this stuffy of an event.

You were standing at the bar with Hailey and Kim. Kevin and Alicia had already called it a night but Hank had to stay longer so they were toughing it out with you. “It’s amazing seeing the change in him since he’s been with you” Hailey laughed and you felt a grin slip onto your face “I honestly never would’ve thought Hank Voight would be such a good man”

You heard someone scoff behind you and turned to see Detective Daniel Moore, a man you’d gone on maybe two dates with. “What was that?” Kim asked and he shrugged “Nothing, just bullshit hearing the three of you riding Voight’s dick so hard” 

“What the fuck is your problem?” you asked and he smirked at you “At least with these two it’s not literal but damn you’ve fallen far” “You son of a..” you were interrupted by Jay’s voice “Hey, what’s going on over here?” 

“Ask Detective Moore” Hailey bit out and you stared him down, seeing if he’d be so brash in front of Jay. “Was saying it’s a shame three perfectly capable women having to ride someone’s coattails or well in Y/N’s case dick like Voights”

Adam appeared over your shoulder “The fuck did you say?” about the time you spotted Hank step up behind Daniel “I think you need to reconsider how you speak to my girlfriend and my detectives, considering I’d hold their records to yours any day” Hank lowered his voice before adding “and from what I’ve heard you didn’t have much dick to ride anyways boy”

Adam clamped a hand over his mouth but Jay straight up laughed as Daniel turned red and muttered something unintelligible before skittering away. Hank’s eyes were solely on you as he told everyone “Head home. We’re done here tonight” you heard a goodnight from everyone but you were here in place from the look in his eyes. Oh he was pissed by what Daniel had said, a lot more than he was showing.

You walked in the door in front of Hank and could damn near feel the anger rolling off of him. “Let’s go to bed” you offered and he shook his head “I’m gonna stay up a little while. You can head up” 

You shook your head and headed up to the room to change. You wanted out of the dress anyways. You got to the room before you remembered you couldn’t unzip the damn dress. “Hank!”

You walked back down the stairs and he was standing at the bottom of them “What baby?” you turned around “The zipper” he chuckled and you felt his hands on your back before the zipper gave way. Instead of heading up you let the dress fall down your body and pool around your feet on the bottom step. “That’s better” 

He let his eyes trail across your body, taking in the black lace set you’d been wearing under your dress before he nodded up “Head up to bed. I’ll be up in a little while” “Make me” you replied with a grin but saw his eyes darken and knew you’d found a new button to push “What was that?”

You took a step closer, kicking the dress out of the way and letting your clothed breast brush against the material of his dress uniform “I said if you want me to head up to bed then make me”  he shook his head, one hand coming out to wrap loosely around your throat “You already knew I was pissed baby. You’re really gonna be a brat?” you grinned at him and he shook his head “Of fucking course, you love this shit”

He turned you around on the stairs and slapped your ass hard enough a whimper escaped your lips “Get your ass up in that bed. I’m right behind you” you felt his hands on your hips, pulling you back against him and you could feel how hard he was through his dress pants and bit your lip as you rubbed your ass back against him, earning yourself another swat “Go”

______________

You felt his hands on your body the moment you crossed into the bedroom. One hand teased low, almost where you wanted it before slipping away “Since you want to be a brat help me get out of this damn thing”

You turned to face him and started to work on the buttons, your hands shaking slightly and he chuckled when he noticed “What’s wrong baby?” you swallowed hard and continued until you could push the shirt off of him. You started to run your hands over his chest but he shook his head “Didn’t say you could touch me yet”

Your mouth fell open in shock and he winked at you “I’ll take care of you, don’t you worry” you let your tongue flick out to wet your bottom lip before your hands went to the zipper of his pants “Promise?” he grabbed the back of your head to pull you into a rough kiss “Don’t I always?”

You smiled into the kiss before you let your fingers work his zipper down, one hand slipping under his waistband to wrap around his hardened cock and he groaned lightly as he let one hand slip down to push your panties to the side, two thick fingers sinking into you “Hearing that asshole talk about you?” he curled his fingers and your hand stopped moving, going to his hip to hold yourself up “Like he could ever make you feel as good as I do?” he hit that spot inside of you and kept working at it until your legs started to shake and the only thing keeping you upright was his other arm around your waist “Go ahead baby” he whispered and you felt your orgasm hit you, your thighs clenching around his wrist as you sagged against his chest. “I’m gonna make sure by the end of the night that you won’t even recognize him if you see him again” he promised,pushing you back onto the bed “You want me to do that pretty girl?”

You nodded “Please?” he smiled “I love you beautiful” “I love you too Hank” you whispered as he shook his head “My damn little brat” before shoving his pants off his hips. You laid back on the bed and let your legs fall open further and he groaned “Gonna be the fucking death of me yet”