Hey aallll! @soelstress and I had an idea to keep September fun, spicy, and a little bit filthy
The concept is simple:
Every day has one line of dialogue as a prompt.
Write a short smutty snippet (max 300 words) based on it.
You have until the end of that day in your own timezone to get it done.
Don’t like a prompt? We’ve got 3 swap-outs you can use anytime.
Your snippet doesn’t need to feature a specific character (“babe” or generic even) — interpret however you want!
Sharing:
Post your entry on Tumblr with the tag #SexySeptemberScribbles so we can all find, reblog, and scream over each other’s work.
We’ll be making a masterlist of entries for those who want to share.
Totally low-pressure - join as often or as little as you like.
So if your fics tend to run long (like ours 😅), this is a great way to practice short, punchy smut while having fun with friends.
Can’t wait to see what everyone writes! This was aimed the few of us on our Discord, but I know people will see others tagging so this is just to explain!
If people want the prompt list it is below the cut, you are welcome to do as many or as few as you want. it just about giving it ago!
Sept 1: “Slower.”
Sept 2: "Don’t hide your face,"
Sept 3: “Sweetest pussy I’ve ever tasted”
Sept 4: "Let me kiss it better."
Sept 5: “Breathe for me baby”
Sept 6: "Can you be good for me?"
Sept 7: "Don’t you dare come until I say so.”
Sept 8: “Oh, you like that?”
Sept 9: "I just need you to say yes."
Sept 10: “Squeeze me baby, squeeze my cock”
Sept 11: “Open up, baby… nice and wide.”
Sept 12: "Tell me you’re mine"
Sept 13: “Don’t flinch, baby, take it.”
Sept 14: “You’re going to make me come again”
Sept 15: “Beg prettier, sweetheart- I know you can.”
Sept 16: "Want me to stop, you need to come again if you want me to stop"
Sept 17: "I will give that mouth something to do."
Sept 18: "Make me beg for it."
Sept 19: “you’re so fucking tight...gripping me like a vice”
Sept 20: "Keep those eyes on me"
Sept 21: “Almost there, just a little more”
Sept 22: "Feel this? It's just for you."
Sept 23: "All the way down, good girl.. nose to the base, show me you can take it.”
Sept 24: "Oh, we're not done yet."
Sept 25: “you’re taking me so well”
Sept 26: “So wet, you must’ve been waiting for this.”
Congratulating someone on their first Father’s Day or Mother’s Day when they have never actually confirmed they have a child is one of the strangest things the internet does.
Think about it.
1. They don’t know you.
2. You don’t even know if there is a child because the parents have never confirmed it. And no, an article citing “trusted sources” is not the same as hearing it directly from them. Anyone can claim to be a source.
3. A woman can publicly support, comment on, and hype up her so-called friends, but not her own husband? That alone raises questions about what might be happening behind the scenes.
Then there’s the fact that she didn’t even spend Mother’s Day in the USA because she was in the Canary Islands working on a movie production. And we’re talking about the same person who deletes comments mentioning her supposed baby.
At some point, it becomes simple.
Either you had a child or you didn’t.
The endless hints, anonymous sources, deleted comments, and carefully crafted narratives only make people question things more.
The truth always finds its way to the surface. It may take months or even years, but it always gets there.
And if there’s one thing celebrity PR has taught us, it’s this: October always seems to be the month when the biggest stories magically appear.
So I can’t help but wonder what blind items, headlines, or “surprise” announcements will be waiting for us this October?
We’d Keep All Our Promises, Be Us Against The World.
Steve Rogers x Reader
Summary- Steve left you years ago thinking it was for your own good, when he runs into you at the grocery store he discovered your not only married but are having a baby. He regrets ever walking out the door.
Warning - Angst, pure heartbreak, nothing else I don’t think!
Writers notes - no proof read or word count! Requested by @aosky18
The fluorescent lights of the grocery store buzzed softly, ordinary and mundane, but for Steve, the world narrowed down to the aisle he was in. He didn’t mean to be here, didn’t expect anything other than a quick run for groceries—but then he saw you.
You were reaching for a box of cereal, your hair lighter than he remembered, catching the light in soft golden waves. He blinked, trying to make sense of the sight in front of him, and then he noticed the curve of your stomach. His chest tightened painfully.
And the rings. Engagement and wedding.
Time slammed into him all at once—the years apart, the nights he had spent telling himself he was doing the right thing, the moments he had imagined you moving on. But none of it had prepared him for this: seeing you, here, alive, radiant, whole… and not with him.
You turned and froze, eyes widening as recognition hit. “Steve…” You lowered your hand to your stomach, almost instinctively protective.
He stepped closer, but not too close. “I… I didn’t expect to—” His words faltered. He swallowed hard, voice catching. “I didn’t expect to see you… like this.”
You looked down at your rings, your hand lightly brushing your baby bump. “It’s been a long time,” you said softly, your voice steady even as your heart thudded in your chest.
Steve’s jaw tightened. “Yeah… years.” He took a slow breath, the weight of regret pressing down on him like never before. “I—I left thinking I was protecting you. I thought… I thought I was doing the right thing by walking away.”
You met his gaze, a quiet ache in your expression. “You thought wrong,” you said gently, and there was no accusation, only truth. “You left. You made your choice for me.”
Steve swallowed hard, feeling every lost moment, every promise broken, every laugh and tear he had missed. His heart ached in a way that left him breathless. And in that moment, it hit him with brutal clarity: you were his happy ending. You always were.
“I—I see that now,” he whispered, voice barely above the hum of the store. “I left because I thought it was better… but I see now… I should’ve stayed. I should’ve fought for us. I should’ve fought for you.”
Your stomach fluttered with the tiny life inside you, and for a moment, it made him feel the impossible weight of reality. You weren’t his. You were someone else’s. Someone else had built the life he had dreamed of.
Steve’s shoulders slumped. “I made the biggest mistake of my life,” he admitted, voice raw, broken. “You… you were always my happy ending. And I—I let you go.”
You swallowed, looking down at your hands, then back at him. There was sorrow in your eyes, but also a strange, quiet compassion. “I loved you, Steve. I always have. But you… you left. And I had to move forward.”
He nodded, heart shattering, wishing desperately that time could rewind, that he could undo the years of absence, the heartbreak he caused. “I—I can’t take that back,” he admitted, “but I needed you to know… you were it for me. You still are. Always will be.”
For a long moment, neither of you moved. The world went on around you, oblivious, but Steve stood frozen, realizing he had spent years running from the very thing that could’ve made him whole. His happy ending wasn’t in his hands anymore, and the weight of that truth cut sharper than any battle he had ever faced.
⸻
Steve’s eyes flicked to your stomach again, and his breath caught. He hated how ordinary the gesture was—just a glance—but it made his chest tighten as if the world itself were pressing down on him.
He swallowed hard, trying to steady himself. “How far along are you?” His voice was careful, tentative, like he was stepping into a world that wasn’t his to touch.
You hesitated, then smiled faintly, a small warmth that cut through the sting in his chest. “Six months,” you said quietly.
Steve nodded, his eyes softening. He swallowed again, almost choking on the lump in his throat. “Boy or girl?”
You laughed lightly, a sound that used to feel like home to him. “A girl,” you said. “We’re… excited”
He nodded again, shifting his weight, suddenly feeling awkward, out of place in the simplest of conversations. “And… how’ve you been? Through the pregnancy, I mean…” His eyes met yours, searching. There was concern there, genuine, raw. “I… I want to know that you’re okay.”
You looked down at your hands, touching your bump almost instinctively. “It’s… been hard,” you admitted softly. “Physically, emotionally… but it’s been worth it. She’s… going to be loved.”
Steve’s chest ached. Every word, every detail, reminded him of what he’d lost. He wanted to reach out, to place a hand over yours, to somehow feel that connection again—but he knew he couldn’t. This life wasn’t his. It never would be.
He swallowed, forcing a small, pained smile. “I’m glad… I’m glad you’re okay.”
You nodded, returning a sad smile, one that held years of unspoken words. “I am. Really.”
For a moment, they just stood there, the hum of the grocery store fading into the background. He was looking at the life he could’ve had, and it hit him with every fiber of his being: he had left his happy ending behind.
And though he knew he couldn’t change it, seeing you… seeing you this way… it was a reminder of everything he had loved—and lost.
⸻
You took a step forward, almost without thinking, and wrapped your arms around Steve’s torso. Your head rested just above his heart, and for a second, the world felt impossibly still.
Steve froze, caught off guard. His body stiffened as the reality of your closeness hit him—the warmth of you, the scent, the softness of your hair against his chest. And then, slowly, instinct took over. His arms came up, settling around your shoulders, hesitantly at first.
Your baby bump pressed against him, a gentle, tangible reminder of the life he could never have shared with you. He inhaled sharply, letting the weight of the moment settle into him.
After a long beat, he rested his chin atop your head, the faintest sigh escaping him. It was a quiet, almost trembling sound, one that carried years of regret, longing, and relief all at once.
The hug lingered, silent but potent, a reassurance that you were okay. That despite the distance, despite the years and the choices he’d made, you were alive, safe, and somehow still yours to care about—even if he couldn’t be a part of the life you’d built.
For a brief, suspended moment, everything else fell away: the grocery store, the world outside, the mistakes. There was only this—two people who had loved each other deeply, holding onto a memory of what once was, and the fragile, quiet acknowledgment of what still mattered.
Steve’s hands tightened slightly on your shoulders, almost afraid to let go, and in that hug, he found a sliver of peace—painful, yes, but somehow necessary.
⸻
Eventually, the hug had to end. Slowly, almost reluctantly, Steve pulled back, keeping his hands on your shoulders a moment longer than necessary. The warmth lingered in his chest like fire—tender, painful, impossible to ignore.
As you began to step away, his instincts reached out. He caught your hand, his fingers brushing against yours for a heartbeat, a fleeting connection that said everything he couldn’t put into words: I’m sorry. I love you. I wish…
But your hand slipped from his grasp, sliding out of reach like water. The small distance between you felt immense, loaded with all the regrets, all the love, all the unspoken “what ifs” that would haunt him for the rest of his life.
You gave him a sad, soft smile, one that was full of understanding and pain all at once. “I’m proud of you, Steve,” you said quietly, your voice gentle but steady. “Keep saving the world… Cap.”
And just like that, you turned, pushing your cart down the aisle, leaving Steve standing there, frozen in place. The sound of the wheels rolling away echoed in his chest, a reminder of everything he had left behind, and everything he had lost—his happy ending, walking away without him.
He let out a slow, shuddering breath. The world continued moving around him, but for Steve Rogers, the universe had contracted to a single painful truth: he had finally realized what he had sacrificed… and it was too late.
