One Shot Ideas Novels & Stories

My numbers would skyrocket. But this wasn’t just any OnlyFans creator. This was the guy. The one I’d lowkey fantasized about more times than I’d admit out loud. The thought of being in the same room as him, of touching him, of— I ran a hand down my face, swallowing hard. Me: What kind of shoot are we talking about here? A few seconds passed. Anonymous69: We can keep it simple. Maybe a teasing video? Nothing crazy unless you’re up for it.

Atlas gets trigger happy and shoots 2 more people that happened to puke on his shoes. I look at my guys with a knowing look signaling to get this over with quickly. All of them pull out their guns as I pull mine out. "Well I'm over this bullshit. Ready guys?" I say without taking my eyes off my targets. I smirk as I gently squeeze the triggers, hitting the two idiots right between the eyes. I hear multiple shots popping off around me. I aim and fire a second time into their limp dicks for the sick shit they've done. Their Soren donor is in tears as he watches the carnage happening around him.

After five years of hurting each other, I was finally tired of Aiden Russell. Five years ago, I finally brought down the biggest drug lord in the Walled City and avenged my father, Paul Chadwick, who had died in the line of duty. But Aiden refused to let the drug lord's daughter, Naomi Siddall, die. He even threatened to take his own life just to force me to agree. After the operation, Aiden brought Naomi back to our home. From that day on, we never stopped hurting each other. Once, I held a knife to Naomi's throat. Aiden immediately pointed his gun at me without hesitation. When I threw away Naomi's medicine, Aiden stripped me and threw me out into the freezing snow. Then one day, Naomi tim

There’s a split second where everything stills — the weight of it in my hands, the faint chemical smell of paint, the quiet hum of anticipation in the room. Then I pull the trigger. Pop. The first shot hits. A wet splat of black against fabric. Ilkay’s muscles move. He doesn’t make a sound. Oh, we’re doing it like that? Fine. I pull the trigger again. And again. And again. Ten shots. Two per idiot. Each hit lands with a sharp crack and a burst of dark paint, blooming across their backs like violent ink stains. Their muscles flinch every time — small, involuntary betrayals — but not one of them breaks.

Next morning, when Ella woke up, the room was empty. The space besides her on the bed was cold. The disappointment pricked over her heart. 'What was I expecting? It was supposed to be a one-night stand.' She said to herself. They didn't even ask each other for the number. They just used each other for their pleasure and that's it. When she stepped out of bed, the soreness in between her legs made her groan. Well, it was going to remind her of the erotic night for a while.

After deep contemplation, he said, "How many shots do I get?" "1 shot" "Hmm… is it not possible to get two shots?" "Young man! This is a paid service, and those shock waves consume a lot of energy. But I'm letting you use it for free, but you only get 1 shot… " Master Hugh shook his head in disagreement, "Besides, why do you even need two shots? I am not checking your accuracy here. The shockwave will always reach the arrow, whether you aim for the target or not. So Just make a powerful shot!"

If only there are not others out there. 'We fire at the count of three. You lot ready?' I asked through the mind link. They all answer with affirmative nods and I do the count. Five shots go off in the building and I can see the creatures writhing on the floor, trying to fight the pain. “You know we could have found a way to modify them.” Shane raises an eyebrow. I expected this, he was the most level-headed among us and the only one who would have such thoughts.

I look at Ivy and she grabs her gun and puts the clip back in. “A little competition?” Dom asks. I look at back to her. She raises an eyebrow. She is ready. I look back at Dom and shrug. “Alright. Most kill shots” I nod. Honestly, I can do either but, kill shots with my rifle are what I do best. “Five shots each. Shoot!”

“This isn’t about turning you into a killer, Alessia. It’s about giving you a choice. If something happens and I’m not there—” “Don’t say that.” “But if it does… I want you to have a chance. I want you to have the option to fight.” She was quiet for a long time. Then: “One shot.” I blinked. “What?” She turned her head slightly. “One bullet. One shot. That’s all I’ll do.” I stared at her. Then nodded. “Deal.” I walked to the bench, retrieved one single round, and loaded it. “Ready?” I asked, holding the gun out.

I show them—with stories, shots taken with the soul in mind. At some point during the shoot, my skin prickles with awareness. I chalk it up to the mini audience we now have. Then it’s over. “That’s the laziest shoot I’ve ever had. I wish it could always be like this,” Lori murmurs, her body melting into the sofa. I lick my lip, nerves humming. “Do you want to see them? They’re unedited, but I think the vision is there.” “Sure,” she beckons, still lying down.