James Gunn Novels & Stories

It's such a shame that Johnny is holding the camera right now so I can't see him and his naked body, only the hot security guard and Kissa are showing in the camera right now. "Um, my name is Brent, 27 years old and I'm a security guard. I'm kind of new to this job, only three months since I started here and I like it, the pay is not that much but it helps me keep my apartment," The hot security guard said looking at the camera, his eyes radiating a shade of green and it's just so captivating and hypnotizing at the same time. I think his eyes are the second most beautiful eyes I've ever seen, Michael's hazel brown eyes being the first.

I blushed as I backed a little, "uh I-I prepared dinner.... you freshen up I will set the table." "As you say, wife," James said wolfishly as he took off his long coat and passed it to Sophia. Sophia hanged the coat on the stand. He took the hostler out of his back pocket and passed it to my direction. When my eyes took in the sight of gun a horrified gasp escaped my lips and I looked at my husband in horror. "W-What are you doing?!" I asked stepping back in horror. James was confused on my expression and then realised I was used to see a gun on normal basis. A laugh escaped his mouth and he clarified to my ,

“This is one of them, right?” the officer asked, his voice firm but edged with a hint of sympathy. Adrian nodded, his face unreadable. “Yeah, that’s him.” He turned, his hand brushing my arm lightly a fleeting, reassuring touch that sent a shiver through me. “They attacked her,” Adrian continued, his voice carrying a controlled fury as he flashed the gun he was holding. “That’s why I’m armed.” The officer nodded thoughtfully before turning his attention back to James. He approached with measured caution, his posture both commanding and observant. Leaning into the car, he met James’s weary, pain-filled eyes.

But he chuckled and said, "You were always the workaholic, guess she wasn't that good after all." Oh but he knew she was, he could feel it, even if he hadn't stcuk his dick in. Too bad that won't be tonight. Callum took a seat beside Tony when James left the room, leisurely crossing his legs. He was next to the man that kept the syndicate shipping going for years, might as well try to make use of it. The man huffed out but Callum ignored his sour attitude. “You’re a terrible liar M. Miller, you should work on that. How many shooters were there?”

Aaron loses patience and shoots James in the chest, shoulders, and, at last, on the forehead with the gun, without giving a single second thought. James sighed heavily, closing his eyes forever. "Aaron!" Peter yelled at the top of his lungs. "What did you do?" "Why did you shoot James?" Peter groaned, touching his forehead. "James, hey, wake up!" Peter tries to wake up James, tapping his hand on his cheek, but he doesn't open his eyes. "We had to find out who the masked man was." "But now that James is dead, how will we know—who the hell is the mastermind of this crime?" Peter groaned.

The sound of the gun clicking brought their argument to an abrupt halt. I asked through gritted teeth, “Where… is… she?” Kade raised his hands and kept his back towards me. The barrel of the gun was pointed directly at the back of his head as he asked, “Who?” I firmly prodded the back of his head with the barrel and warned, “Don’t fuck with me!” “Mia, please leave. That gun wouldn’t stop him. He’s just toying with you,” Dane pleaded with me, his voice laced with worry and fear. My heart raced as I shook my head, unable to process the danger I was in, only caring about my friend.

The young man didn’t know when to stop talking. “Hey Dennis, knock it off, Sport. Stop going back and forth with this guy. He’s crazy.” FBI Agent Mark James warned Agent Vernon like a father speaking firmly to his son. “This guy killed seventeen people without blinking an eye. I don’t think you want to carry a conversation with him.” FBI Agent James continued to see if he could talk some sense into Agent Vernon. Agent James was in his fifties, but he looked young for his age. He had a stocky build, like a boxer, and he had a goatee that came to a point under his chin. Agent James also had a golden blonde mullet that made him look like an 80s rockstar.

I couldn't stand it, but I tried to calm down. Jeison put the gun on a table and began to undress. "Come and do what you know how to do, bitch!" I didn't listen to him, I just thought about taking the gun, since he wasn't aware of what he was doing; however, he moved closer to me and slapped me. "Don't you listen, you want trouble? I am the son of the mobster of this town. If you don't listen to me, I'm going to kill you."

Amy didn’t shout, didn’t give warning, her fingers were already pressing into the trigger before their eyes adjusted BANG. One down neck shot, blood splattering the metal wall like a sick painting. BANG. BANG. Two more — down before they realized the angel of death wore heels. The youngest girl screamed as bullets shredded through the air. Amy ducked low, her body shielding her like instinct. Another man lunged — too slow. She turned, fired, his brains hit the floor first. The last shot rang out as one of the men lifted his hand not in surrender, but hesitation. Amy didn’t gamble with hesitation, the velvet fell from the gun like a promise broken. She stood straight, gun smoking. Her face un

As I descended the stairs, I could see that he was sitting in the living room. And he was cleaning his gun. He didn’t see me at first. He was being so meticulous, almost robotic. I watched from the darkness as he slowly and methodically cleaned each part, then put it back together. Then… He loaded it. I caught a glimpse of the box of bullets; they were silver. For killing werewolves. “James,” I said without thinking, emerging from the shadows, “are those silver bullets?” My voice shook as I spoke. James merely nodded and stayed focused on his work. “Of course,” he replied.