Criminal Minds Crossover Fanfiction Novels & Stories

" Damon Cross and his company, CrossCorp, have done more than just commit business fraud; they have been systematically wrecking people's lives. They've taken money, threatened people, and damaged businesses. There was a quiet murmur in the room, but Mimi stayed still. She kept moving, her eyes on her the whole time. "And I'm not just talking about business deals," she remarked. "About the people they've hurt," I said. People like my family. People like me. And now it's over. She thought she was getting better, but suddenly her phone vibrated in her pocket. She didn't have a lot of time to glance at the screen before it shook again. A phone call from an unknown number remarked, "You have no

Their kiisses turned sloppy, wet trails of saliva connecting them, and hands started trailing everywhere even under Azxel’s shirt, Jaelen other hand squeezed Azxel’s ass. Azxel was fumbling with Jaelen’s zipper. But exhaustion hit Azxel like a wave again. His movements slowed down , kisses softening to lazy presses, until his head dropped to Jaelen’s shoulder, breaths evening out. Sleep took him once more, leaving Jaelen panting beneath him, aroused and conflicted, staring at the ceiling as the weight of what they’d done settled in. In the days that followed, Azxel went mad. Truly mad. He locked himself in the room during free hours, barring the door with a chair, ignoring Jaelen’s knocks.

"And we need to do it fast because whoever wrote this is clearly escalating." We headed back upstairs and Cain immediately started pulling files while Ryder coordinated with the guards to increase security around the pack house and I sat down at the computer to start cross referencing the victim names with current databases. "This is going to take hours," I said as I started entering names. "And we might not even find anything useful." "We have to try," Cain said. "Because the alternative is sitting around waiting for the killer to strike again." Sarah was pacing back and forth near the window and I could feel through the mate bond how anxious she was and I understood because knowing that so

My eyes diverted to Chris. Chris rolled his eyes and walked out. Damien shook his head at him walking away. Those two had some weird bromance going on between them. Hopefully it could help me merge my family with Hope's. I can't let her worry about us not working; it's not a possibility that we didn't work. "Ok, talk." 'Only through our mind link so we know no one hears us. We need to release our prisoner. Ryker and Chris are here to kill us.' I just blurted it out. I needed this to be washed away already so I knew my future was secure with my mate.

I tap the keys absentmindedly, thinking of the fictional twists I’ve added, but there’s a thread of reality that I know she can pick up on. “Is it still about that reckless author who dives into the criminal world to experience it for her book?” she teases. “Trying to understand those three mysterious men?” I chuckle. “Absolutely. She just keeps digging herself in deeper and deeper. It’s more complicated now, though. She’s starting to realize that it’s not just her career on the line—it’s her life.” Jenni raises an eyebrow. “Sounds intense. But somehow… fitting.” I shrug, giving her a playful smile. “Guess I can’t help it. Inspiration comes from unexpected places.”

“You mean you never wondered? You never saw the patterns? The names? The families? Cross isn’t an assassin group, Dennise. It’s a Hunter organization. You were raised to kill us and wipe us out. Every assignment you followed was another life stolen from my kind.” My vision blurred again, not from tears this time but from memories crashing down. The mother in La Luna’s household. The teenager boy who looked no older than nineteen eyes wide with terror as I pulled the trigger. The woman in the market square who dropped her basket of fruit a second before I cut her throat. I had told myself they were criminals. That it was justice. That I was saving the world from dangerous people. But what if

Did I really want him to do the search I had asked him to do? Was I ready to find out which pack I belonged to? What if I was a member of Crimson Pack? What if I was an abused member? Was I ready to return to the abuse I had apparently escaped from? Was I ready to give up the comfort and care Rowena and Xander showered me with? And if I was a criminal, was I ready to get back to jail? Maybe this was like giving me the chance to have a new start. I placed both of my hands on the back of my head, attempting to silence my screaming mind, but this was hard.

My hands gripped the railing, white-knuckled. “Maybe it’s easier if I’m not here,” I whispered. Then I let go. I screamed halfway down, realizing too late that I didn’t want to die. But my wolf was silent gone. What was happening ? Then everything vanished. *** I woke again to blinding white. Not heavenly white cold, sterile white. My body was weak, heavy, broken. Then I saw him. Alpha West. The detective. Damian’s rival. The man known for rewriting rules and breaking anyone who crossed him.

He moves so fast I cannot even remember the faces of people I speak to. “Please,” I ask him “Slow down.” My feet ache and my muscles are sore. I have long since dropped the flowers on some random table, hoping silently they would burn and take the building and everyone in it. My fingers grasp onto a glass and I gulp down water quickly, my throat parched from flimsy small talk. The wedding will be in the papers. I can see the headline now- Two Crime Families Put Aside Differences; I knew the papers would sell quickly. Crime sold. I would know. My name had been in the papers since the day I was born thanks to my father. New York would tremble underneath me if I wanted it to. I dripped in cashm

Four, the bedroom was dark and unfamiliar with a very pleasant familiar scent. And that scent was what brought all the memories that had been beneath the sleepy surface. Dinner with Dane. That arsehole, fucking bastard— I don’t know how I end up with trouble in my hands. Human traffickers. Kidnapped. Auctioned. And, bought by none other than the arrogant Italian himself— Antonio fucking Rossi.