Pairing: Mafia!Hotch x Fem!reader | WC: 0.8k | CW: club scene, alcohol, violence.
The club pulsed with life, the bass thrumming through the floor, weaving through the low hum of conversation and the sharp clink of expensive whiskey against crystal glass. It was the kind of place where power was by who sat behind the velvet ropes—where the most dangerous men in the room never had to raise their voices to be heard. It was also the kind of place where no one touched what belonged to Aaron Hotchner.
Yet, somehow, the man standing in front of you had made that mistake.
His fingers curled around your wrist, the grip just tight enough to be possessive, just firm enough to make you uncomfortable. The stench of expensive cologne mixed with the sharp bite of whiskey on his breath as he leaned in, grinning like he had already won whatever game he thought he was playing. "C'mon, sweetheart, no need to play hard to get. I can give you a better offer than whatever you're getting now."
You didn’t have time to answer before the atmosphere shifted. The air around you seemed to still, the space behind you darkening with a familiar presence.
Then, in the space of a single breath, the man was ripped away.
Hotch moved faster than you could process, his hand wrapping around the man’s throat and slamming him against the nearest wall with a force that rattled the framed liquor displays behind the bar. Glassware trembled. Conversations cut off mid-sentence. The entire club fell silent.
“Touch her again, and I’ll break your neck.”
His voice was quiet, and controlled, but there was something in it that sent a chill down your spine—something deadly. Hotch rarely needed to make threats, not when his reputation spoke for itself, but when he did, it was never an empty promise. He could kill.
The man gasped, his fingers clawing at Hotch’s grip, his face turning an alarming shade of red. The smug confidence that had dripped from his words only seconds before had vanished completely. He knew exactly who he had just crossed, and from the way his body trembled, he also knew there was no undoing it.
Hotch leaned in slightly, his grip tightening just enough to make his point clear. “You think you can put your hands on something that belongs to me?” His words were measured, deliberate, and left no room for misinterpretation.
You should have been startled by the possessiveness in his voice, by the sheer force of his anger, but all you could focus on was the way he stood in front of you, a wall of control and fury as if there was no reality in which he would let anyone lay a hand on you and walk away unscathed.
The man gave a frantic nod, his expression somewhere between desperation and pure terror. Hotch held him there for another long moment, letting the weight of his words settle in before finally releasing his grip. The man collapsed, coughing violently as he stumbled back, eyes darting around the club as if looking for an escape route.
When no one moved to help him—when not a single person in the room dared to challenge the man who had just nearly choked him out—he scrambled toward the exit, disappearing into the crowd without so much as a backward glance.
Hotch exhaled slowly, his body still thrumming with tension as he turned to you. His eyes, sharp and dark beneath the low lighting, scanned your face before trailing down to your wrist where the man had touched you.
His jaw clenched, and before you could say anything, his fingers brushed over your skin, tracing the faint redness left behind. His touch was the opposite of what you had just endured—gentle and respectful, ensuring you weren’t hurt.
“Are you alright?” His voice had softened, but the barely contained rage still simmered beneath the surface.
You nodded, your pulse still racing. “Yeah.”
He didn’t look convinced. His fingers lingered on your wrist for a moment longer before he exhaled sharply and threaded his fingers through yours instead, his grip firm and protective. The warmth of his palm against yours sent a shiver up your spine, but it wasn’t from fear.
It should have been.
You should have been wary of a man who could snap a neck as easily as he could open a bottle of scotch, a man whose power extended into every shadowed corner of the city.
But you weren’t afraid of him. You never had been.
His hand tightened ever so slightly, his thumb brushing over the inside of your palm in a way that felt more like a promise than a simple touch. His eyes searched yours, and for a brief second, the room around you disappeared.
“Take me home,” you murmured, and the second the words left your lips, his grip on you became unshakable.
Hotch had never been the kind of man to let go of what was his.
mafia hotch finding out he has a soft spot for the reader and being confused and slightly angry about it 🥹 (i love our man finding out he’s in love and mafia version?? 😵💫)
i love mafia hotch sm 🥹❤️🔥 this is so soft and sweet :")) feel free to request anything with mafia hotch! <33
i haven't really worked out the details for this so just pretend for now he's a double agent 😩 also might be ooc 🥲
hotch looked up from his desk, his hands paused as they flipped to the next page. it was utterly useless, he couldn't get much further than a few lines. he was too much in his head as he sighed and slammed the case files down, unable to concentrate on anything.
tonight was a big mission, he couldn't afford to lose his head so easily. he knew his team would be on the case which would only make it that much more harder, he couldn't afford to slack yet the only thing he could think of was you.
the frown on his forehead was unmovable, his face was unreadable as he moved his files away and reached for the half empty tumbler. he let the burn of the alcohol swirl on his tongue, inhaling a deep breath as he sank further into his seat.
hotch never claimed to be perfect, he knows his hands are scarred with the blood of many people. he knows his horrible path, he's manipulative and cruel and sly. with a flick of his wrist, he was able to have a person down in seconds. he was never a good guy, he never claimed to be.
but there you were, your annoying presence lighting up his day. perhaps that was why he never liked you
you saw him.
you saw your unit chief fight bravely for every case, working to the bone every night when everyone had already left. true, you didn't know the real reason why he did those things. but his mind liked to indulge in fantasies every so often, liked to think that you could possibly accept him for what he was. maybe you'd be the belle that tamed the beast? maybe this time someone would see the real him and stay? but love was for fools, he had to remind himself.
he hated you, he needed to.
you and your annoying presence, something he thought he could do without. being in the mafia was hard enough, living a life as a double agent was already risky. adding pleasure to the mix was a surefire way to death.... yet despite that all he couldn't seem to understand why he missed your presence?
a strange feeling entered him, something foreign. something he hadn't felt in years, a promise. promise of hope, promise of companion around this time. only the last time time he was this vulnerable to someone, she ended up being the biggest thorn in his side. so he forced it down, forced it to not rear its ugly head ever again. he promised himself he could never fall for another person, not like this. he would never put himself through that again.
hotch leaned back on his chair, his hand around his glass of whiskey. his head was ever so gently tilted to the right, his eyes sparkling under the lights. his heart thumped with an emotion he hasn't felt in years. he noticed something different about him in the last few years, a genuine smile.
you told him to sit and close his eyes while you prepare a surprise for him, and he does, excited smile blooming on his face as he hears you fluttering around the room. when you let him open them he sees you standing there in a pretty baby pink lingerie set with a lace coverup and you're nervously fidgeting with the hem. "fuck" he has to lower his head so he can meet your eyes and gives you a grin, "c'mere sweetheart" and you walk up to stand between his legs and you're so flustered and shy he can't help but chuckle as you hide your face in the crook of his neck "prettiest fucking thing I've ever laid eyes on, angel" his hands are soft as they dance up and down your skin, leaving a trail of goosebumps in their wake "too bad i'm about to rip it off"
don't worry he buys you a new set and five new colours <3
(hello hope you're doing good 🤠) MAFIA HOTCH BUT HE "hates" READER. THEY'RE TURF ENEMIES OR WHATEVER AND HE ALWAYS HAS THE OPPORTUNITY TO GET RID OF HER ONCE AND FOR ALL AND TAKE OVER HER STUFF BUT HE NEVER TAKES IT CAUSE HE LOVES THE CAT AND MOUSE GAME WITH HER BUT HE REALLY GETS ON HER NERVES (kinda giving enemies to lovers or Batman and Joker if you squint lol)
OMG PLS 😵💫😵💫🫶🫶 i really want to write a more in depth version but tumblr deleted it 😭
hotch such a cocky bastard, he knows exactly how to get under your skin and he will test every limit in your body. to watch you snap or break, you're not sure which one. he has every means to dispose of you and your team, he knows every trick in the book. and being a bau profiler on top of that, he's almost unstoppable.
you're so sure he hates your guts, everytime he looks at you is with a frown or a manipulative smile when he knows he's gotten what he wants. he barely even acknowledges you unless it's to point out your faults and how you're too unfit to run a dangerous business. how he always threatens to swipe everything from under you, leave you in the dust
only you don't catch the small hint of the smike behind his facade, watching you for a second longer than he should. the small hint of emotion crossing his eyes when you reply back with a sparky comment, his mouth curving into the smallest hints of a smile when he sees your face crumpled up in anger. who knew anger could look gorgeous on someone? he dares wonder how you look with a smile, how you'd look like smiling to him? but those fantasies are too painful to imagine so he settles for the next best thing he gets.
he could overpower you, take everything you've ever built away, eliminate everyone who works for you in a second but he likes the competition. or rather he enjoys the company, your company. even if you're constantly scowling at him, it's better than nothing 🥹
I love how you write mafia Hotch !! Can you do one where he's in the middle of satisfying his girl and his team walks in with "important matters" and he's like "I'm in the middle of my own, handle it yourself" and reader gets more turned on by it ?? Please. ?
"What now!?" Aaron groaned as a group of his men walked into his office. His fingers curling against your spot as he kept working his magic on you. He had one arm wrapped around your waist, your legs spread wide open by his as you sat as still as possible in his lap. Your cunt was on full display to the five men.
They watched with hungry gazes as you rolled your eyes back into your head at the pleasure, hearing the mewls coming from your throat. How they wished that they were the ones to make you sound like that.
"There are some problems with one of the clubs." One of the men stepped forward, knowing that Aaron hated having you hear their business dealings as he used one of the man's code names for his undercover operations.
"And? Can't you see that I'm in the middle of something? You're fully capable of handling it yourself." Aaron stopped his movements for a brief moment as he scolded his men. You whined impatiently at him making him pull them out. Aaron's free hand landed a slap on your puffy lips, causing you to yelp out in surprise, but it somehow made you hornier. Slick almost dripping out of your already abused hole.
"I'm so sorry, sir. We'll figure it out." The man spoke with a lowered head. He licked his lips, something that didn't go unnoticed by Aaron as they walked out again.
"I bet you liked that you dirty whore. Now let's see where we left off." He grinned into your ear. His dark, raspy voice send shivers down your spine and made the pulse in your clit throb.
As he plunged his fingers back into you, the squelching sound of your juices filled the air, along with the pleasured screams of his name that you emitted every single time he made you come. He wanted everyone in the house to hear just how good he made you feel. Who you belonged to. This was nothing more than an ego booster for him right now, even though he loved you more than anything and would fall flat on his knees for you, you were still great at making his men jealous of his success.
A/N: REUPLOADING CAUSE TUMBLR IS BEING A BITCH AND DELETING/REARRANGING THE PARAGRAPHS EVERYTIME I CORRECT IT.
Warnings: Dark, mafia themes, murder.
It hit you, loud and clear from down the hall. Locked behind the hefty oak doors at the end of it. Their baleful laughter was loud enough to resonate through every crevice and corridor of the massive house. Loudest was the most well-known of them all. Aaron Hotchner. Also the most dangerous and in control of the group of men. Their noises frightened you. Knowing fully well that one shared look between the men could be your downfall.
Poker night happened once a month at the mansion. Aaron always hosted. No one wanted to cross him, not with his reputation. They didn’t want to end up as yet another name on the never-ending list of his victims. It was all they fought to stay away from as they obeyed his every word, scared that he would take over their districts in return for their disobedience towards him.
It had happened before, and it was sure to happen again. The last ones you remembered crossing Aaron were the men closest to your heart. Every single alarm clock in your head should’ve told you it would happen, but you were blind to the inevitable. The day that he arrived at your boyfriend’s condo, you were alone, but not for long.
The pounding sound of footsteps entering your temporary home, made you get out of bed that night. You wished you hadn’t gotten out of it at all. Maybe he would never have found you. But then again, you knew that at some point you couldn’t hide anymore. You were his target. He wanted you.
You had walked into the living room, wrapped up in your blanket in hopes of seeing your boyfriend on the couch, exhausted from another terrible day working for your father. Instead, you felt the pit in your stomach drop as you saw him. His black hair, the stoic look in his eyes as he loaded his gun, and worse of all, the calmness in his step. You locked eyes with your boyfriend, tied to one of the dining chairs. It wasn’t long before you noticed your father too, equally as restrained.
“(Y/n)! Run!” He yelled, panic-stricken as he watched your frozen form standing on the last step of the staircase. But it was too late for that. You were gone. Too afraid to move. Thoughts completely lost as you stood still, all rationality had left your body. You had only had to take five steps and you would’ve been out the door, you would’ve been safe. But he had other plans.
Striding towards you, Aaron Hotchner’s lips twisted into a maniacal smile at the sight of you. So frail, so angelic-looking to him in your hazy state. He could break you if he wanted to. Instead, he cupped your face with his gloved hand. The smooth leather was cold to the touch. You pulled back, but Aaron was quick to tighten his grip, locking you in place.
He led you towards the men in your life. Holding you against his chest. His nose was buried in your hair, smirking at the struggling men in front of you. He had the upper hand. and they all knew it. You were their greatest weakness. And you would be the end of them too.
“All this because you wouldn’t let me have her, Horace.” Aaron’s grip tightened around your waist. “Looks like I got my wish in the end, huh.” His chuckle was villainous, watching your boyfriend pulling at the ropes holding him, but it was to no avail, he would never get out in time.
With two painfully accurate shots, they were gone, and you weren’t. Finally starting to wake up from your trance, you struggled in Aaron’s grip, but he was far stronger than you. He tossed the unregistered gun on the table before pulling you out of the apartment with ease.
It was then that you realized you would’ve never have escaped him, seeing his henchmen standing on either side of the door, they would’ve caught you in a heartbeat.
Picking up on the sound of ice hitting the side of a glass, you knew it was time for another one. Aaron was the only one taking his liquor with a ball of ice of the men, and he wanted you to make him another one. It was his silent command for you to come.
Pushing your way through the oak doors, you were quickly at his side, bending over to press a kiss to his cheek. How he liked it.
“What would you like, sir?” You inquired, picking up the scotch glass. You already knew, but he wanted you to ask. He had trained you to. It was about the control. Where ever he went, he had control. And he liked to show his surroundings just how much control he had.
“I know what I would like.” It was the newest guy, you had only seen him once before. Surely, he should’ve known by now not to make comments about you or when you were around. It was Aaron’s highest valued rule.
Everyone could sense his anger, their heads snapping towards the newest member, they knew. Aaron was aggressive as he pushed himself up from the table, chair landing on the floor behind him.
You instinctively took a step back, although it did you no good. You could not hide your fright from the men. They were like bloodhounds, could smell it on you from a mile away.
“Bunny, go wait outside!” Almost like that night, you were frozen in your spot, barely registering anything at all. That was the first mistake. Aaron’s head snapped back, unable to hear the soft patter of your footsteps leaving the library.
“I SAID go wait OUTSIDE, Bunny!” He spat. Aaron was furious, not at you, but you were in his line of fire and frankly, he was seeing red. Somehow you managed to make your body back out of the room again, but it stopped once the oak doors had been closed behind you.
You stood like a statue, waiting. Bang. You flinched and dropped the glass in your hands at the sound of the gunshot. It shattered against the hardwood floors. You kept standing still. Somehow knowing that the glass would harm you if you moved. You were not to harm his property, that was one of his rules. Only he could do that.
The men left one by one until Aaron emerged as the last one. He saw the broken glass on the floor. He gathered you in his arms, knowing that the housekeepers and working men would take care of the clean-up. You were limp in his embrace, letting him handle you however he liked it.
“I think it’s time for bed now, bunny.” It was crazy how quickly the man’s mood could change, how soft he could suddenly become after such darkness and brutality had washed over your home. And you knew it was only an act, for you.
All you did was nod into his chest, agreeing with his suggestion as you let him tuck you in before he too got into the bed.
Next poker night would be one man less, unless of course... but that was not the case.
I’ve been binging your puppy!reader, and I keep thing how funny it would be for mafia!hotch to put those baby sensory videos for her to keep her distracted. You don’t have to do this if you don’t want to but if you do thank you 💖
When the dancing fruits stopped, and the screen went black, you started whining and barking for them to come back. Aaron's head snapped up when you started making noise, having hoped to get father with his work before his next meeting. With a small sigh, he called you over.
"C'mon, bring the iPad." He snapped his fingers to gain your attention, with another whine you rose from your bed, almost forgetting the tablet before Hotch pointed you back to the device. You grabbed it between your teeth, barely managing to hold it up long enough to hand it over. Aaron was quick though, he carefully grabbed it from you before it hit the ground.
"You're such a baby, you know that." He cooed while clicking the next video. You tilted your head at him, not really understanding much. He placed the device down on the ground for you, having turned the sound down low to not disturb him. You didn't move back to the bed, only laid down next to his feet now watching the moon and stars dance around.
"I swear Dave would make all my men bully me if they saw you like this." He murmured with a smile on his lips before he gave you a hearty pat on the side and returned to his work.
