Angst Writing Prompts Novels & Stories

I always wore them whenever we had to deal with a problem in the basement, just in case things got messy. With a resounding thud, I slammed the drawer shut and swiftly exited my office. Each step I took reignited the anger within me. It consumed me, and all I could see was a crimson haze surrounding my betrayer. The blood in my veins roared, pulsating through my temples. Gripping tightly onto the burning fury inside, I harnessed its power. My body tensed, muscles locking in place as I stormed down the dimly lit corridor. The frigid air crackled with my seething rage, and the only sound reverberating off the walls was the echo of my footsteps. The chilling atmosphere seemed to beckon me, temp

Angus's mood swings were unpredictable, and I have learnt to tread carefully around him. As I prepared our bath. Angus's gaze followed me., his eyes burning with an intensity that made my skin prickle. But whenever I catch his eye, he would look away, his expression icy. My heart began to beat loudly in my chest. I hate these moments when I could hardly guess what he was thinking about. He was hostile and unpredictable. The tension between us was palpable, and I felt like I was walking on eggshells. Suddenly, Angus's mood shifted again, and he strode across the room, his movements swift and purposeful.

By the middle of the afternoon, I was looking at the way Angus filled out that black T-shirt I had lent him, and wondering how hard it would be to get him out of it. Maybe a little wild monkey sex with a cute FBI agent would be just the ticket to melt away my blues. That was stupid, though. I stood up. “I’m going to take a nap. Wake me if any crazy Russian killers come to the door.” Angus looked up from his computer. “Will do,” he said and then went back to work.

Her hands trembled at her sides. I didn’t break eye contact. “Are you in or not?” For a heartbeat, the air between us crackled charged with the weight of a thousand unspoken consequences. Then, slowly, she nodded. The storm inside me silent for far too long began to rise. ***************** AUTHOR’S NOTE Thank you so much for reading this chapter. If your heart raced, if you felt the weight of Angela’s fury or the ache in her grief then I’m honored to have moved you. This story means the world to me, and your support keeps it alive.

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.

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.