Angst Writing Prompts Novels & Stories

When my world spins out of control, I write, Ink is st⁠eadi‍er than thoughts and paper is m‌ore forgiving than⁠ memor‍y. I settle back against the headboard and begin to scr‍ibble, I write abo‌ut the cold nights, sb‌out fear, abo‍ut Ma⁠tthew and about ho⁠w close everything c‍ame to collapsin‍g in on us.‍ I write about Damian’s offer, about‌ the way he said it like it was business, not mercy.

Grant I paced across my office as if the restless walking could bring me some clarity. These last days have been arduous. Stormy and I were growing restless by the minute. My wolf was a ticking bomb about to explode, force shift and steal the reins of my volition/will to get to his angel, our Angeline.

I'm sure they're supposed to be words, but they're peculiarly stacked together in such a way that only the writer can decipher them. I flip the pages, which I'm surprised are empty at all, given how used the book feels and looks. Closing the book, I open it again to a random page. But there's nothing random about this page. It has been visited multiple times, even recently. I'm sure my sight serves me correctly. Angie's Must-Do List— Steps To Freedom. The title reads, and then there's a bunch of things. * Drink Alcohol * Try a cigarette * Have my first kiss

My world is now etched in charcoal, the vibrant hues of the outdoors feel like a distant dream. The poison coursing through my veins pushes me to the edge of insanity. I fear that without my smoldering anger I would lose myself in the darkness of my mind. My anger is warm and encompassing pushing away my deep loneliness. So, I focus on my anger, holding to it like a safety blanket.

Make room for the real. But when I put the pen to the page, nothing comes. Just angry dots where I pressed too hard. The words are too tangled, my chest too tight. Every time I try to write “Joel proposed last night” I feel my throat close. I can’t explain why it hurts. I can’t even explain to myself why it scared me. Isn’t this the thing I thought I wanted? A real proposal? Not the one forced on me by a contract, by money, by legacy. A real one, where he chose me for me. And yet here I am, staring at blank paper like it’s mocking me.

My cock, my rage, my thoughts—all forgotten as I watched him place his hands on what was mine. I I pulled my shorts up and stood, gripping the laptop tightly. Pacing back and forth, my fingers brushed over the smooth surface, a desperate need to hold onto something, anything, that was mine. In a burst of anger , I tossed the laptop onto the bed, chest rising and falling with ragged breaths. My gaze snapped to the wall, glaring at the emptiness. I turned to the nightstand, yanking the drawer open to find a pen and paper. Kneeling on the floor, my eyes flickered to the laptop lying crooked on the bed, then to the empty bathroom playing in the screen. Without another thought, I began to write.

Alex stopped and decided to look into their scene. Angela and Lisa were naked. Same as the aged man with dark beards. His cock was already thick and long as he fisted it. “Hi, Alex.” Lisa reached him and peppered his cheeks with kisses. Angela only waved. Old and young scene?” He directed the question at Owen and he nodded. “Yes, sir Alex.” Owen nodded. “What did the copywriter title it?” He asked. “Teen annoys old stepgrandpa and he fucks her pussy.” Alex loved the title but he thought this scene would look more enticing when acted outdoors.

---- In her room, Angela took a seat on the bed with a feeling of turmoil. "When will all these fears disappear? When will all of this end?" muttered Angela, feeling frustrated. Angela recalled the frightening stare from Fergus just now. It gave her goosebumps and scared her. The fire that happened to her mother, as well as the fire that happened before, kept bothering her mind. "I want to live quietly and peacefully. When will all of this end? When did those shadows leave my memory?" Angela muttered, looking very frustrated. ***

Angel “Stop the car now!” I screamed. My voice came out louder this time. Sharper. Desperate. But he didn’t slow down. Didn’t hesitate. If anything, he pressed harder on the accelerator. The car surged forward. Faster. My heart slammed violently against my chest. Think. Think, Angel. Do something. Don’t just sit here. Panic clawed its way up my throat, but I forced myself to move. My hands trembled as I grabbed my bag. My fingers fumbled inside it, searching blindly. Anything. Something. My breath came out uneven, fast, loud. The car swerved slightly as we turned into another unfamiliar road. Everything felt wrong. Too wrong.

His eyes which were the colour of blood raked down at her form as if studying her nervous posture " Go" He spoke dismissively in that low voice that made shivers run down her spine Angy turned around and hurried her way up the flight of stairs feeling his burning gaze following each step she took By the time she was leaning against the closed door of her bedroom, her breaths her in pants and her underwear completely soaked. What the hell was wrong with her?! She had never felt such strong urges towards someone like this before, and she was fucking nineteen! She was way past her hormone driven years