Strike Back Fanfiction Novels & Stories

Kira’s POV My first strike sent Michael flying across the rooftop, his body slamming into the concrete wall with a sickening crack. The force shattered the stone behind him, dust and debris crumbling at his feet. He coughed, blood splattering onto the ground as he struggled to lift himself. I tilted my head, watching him suffer, feeling my power crackle at my fingertips. It was hungry. I was hungry.

go ahead” she nodded her head slowly, threw a final glare at the guy who had completely dressed up during the time both father and daughter were cuddling each other and was now patiently awaiting Liam's worse. Inferring from Liam's affection toward Daniella, he knew that he would never pardon him, so if he was going to be a dead meat tonight, at least he should have his clothing on. As soon as Daniella was out of sight, the smile on Liam's face was soon replaced by smoldering anger as he summed up his pace to where he was standing. The atmosphere immediately became unsettling, he looked more intimidating and the chill he exuded from his body made this guy want to flinch, but he rapidly caug

This was real life, and he was the villain, one who would strike ten times harder. She stared at him when he suddenly pulled her. "Sterling, what are you____" Then he flipped her over onto her stomach. Faith shrieked when his palm swatted her ass, hard. "Do you think that I've forgotten that you tried to leave with my daughter?" She knew his punishment would come, she just didn't think it would be now, and like this. “Sterling!” Faith yelped when he swatted her again, trying to wiggle away from him.

Their children’s struggles with illness gnawed at her soul, and anger surged up from deep within her. Without warning, her hand flew up and struck his cheek with a sharp “Slap!” The sound echoed through the room, leaving a tingling silence in its wake. Daimon didn’t flinch, his head merely turning with the force of the blow. Slowly, he brought his gaze back to hers, his eyes dark and inscrutable. Daimon licked the inside of his cheek, pushing against the numbness as he whispered in a low, gravelly voice, “Is that enough? Or do you want to try the other side too?”

"The Eight Hollows are supposed to be Wyvern Peak's reserve forces. Novemtoners are your ancestors, yet you refuse to work for Novemton. To make matters worse, you tried to invade Novemton. Thus, on my name as Strider Hicks, I will stop your traitorous act for the sake of your ancestors' honor. "Are you ready?" Strider's gaze burned, exuding an undeniable air of authority. Javi was stunned. He stammered, "W-Wait..." But Strider had already turned into a streak of light and charged at him. Utterly incapable of keeping up with Strider's speed, Javi suffered a severe blow to the chest, and he coughed up a mouthful of blood as he went flying again. "This one's for your ancestors!" Bam! Strider s

I rubbed my fingers across first one then the other ass cheek, my excitement building. When I issued the first strike, hitting on her sit spot, her body jerked but she didn't cry out. I smacked her again then again, waiting as her back heaved, her legs beginning to shake. Her bottom was already a delicious shade of pink, fueling the darkness within. "You're a very proud woman. I can tell what you yearn for while you're alone in your bed, all the nightly cravings, the intense fantasies. You push every boundary in hopes of taxing a man enough to take you in hand." I didn't wait for her reply before striking her twice more.

“ I will knock them down. You burn them to ashes. ” “ Make sure to use that impressive, unusual speed that’s not common for Lycans to get away before you are burning to ashes yourself. ” Striker mocked and shot a line of fire towards me. I moved away before it could consume me and as expected, the crawling bones turned into ashes, “ Well, you know I have vampire tendencies. ” “ I am hurt. You must have told everyone but me. ” Striker scoffed, but still burned the ground the dead walked on.

I sucked in a sharp breath as his hand came down again, a little harder this time. “This is for calling yourself a disgrace.” Oh. It actually stung a little now, radiating a sharp heat. “For calling yourself a disappointment.” It had only been three strikes, but my skin was already on fire. How on earth was I supposed to handle thirty or forty? I honestly couldn't even remember how many awful things I had mumbled against myself last night. One final strike landed firmly against my cheek. “And the last one, for calling yourself pathetic.”

A third time, every strike fueled by a thirst for revenge, and the urge to totally obliterate him. He tried to counter my strikes by swinging back wildly, but I just ducked under it, my knuckles raking across his ribs in a sharp hook that sends him crashing to the ground. I followed it up with a kick to his head, the loud sound of his skull cracking against the concrete exhilarating. Damn, I needed this. I blew out a breath, my chest heaving as I watched him try to crawl away from me, his blood dripping all over his face. He looked pathetic.

I snapped. "Oh, so you can spank me when I'm bad, but you can't pretend to throw a punch?" Zack questioned, a playful, wicked glint in his eyes. I chuckled darkly, my hand sliding down to the small of his back. "Those are very different things. You earned those spankings. You could never earn a strike." Zack pouted, shifting his hips against mine in a way that made my blood catch fire. "One more try? Please?"