Waffle_Lover

You were completely mesmerized by the video playing on the screen. The image of a large and strong muscular figure rutted his hips up into the silicone, slick with his precum and lube—the poor toy looking like it was on the verge of tearing apart in his large hands. 

After stumbling across the account Lord_Of_The_Rings_1917, you were immediately hooked. 

He never showed his face, but you didn’t need to know what he looked like to be entranced. His grunts and moans were engraved in your mind like a song you knew by heart. You were enthralled by the sight of his broad, sweat-slicked back, every movement etched into your memory. The sheer length and size of him held you captive, hypnotized. You had memorized the rhythm of his patterns right before he came, you knew it like the back of your hand. 

His moans would rise slightly higher in pitch. His breathing would get heavier. He’d curse and grunt out, “fuck, fuck.” or “shit, fuck.” 

And then it happens. 

With one final thrust, he filled his toys to the brim with his cum, always thick and a creamy pearlescent white. 

You had one hand tucked in your panties, rubbing at your clit as you came just in time with him. You tossed your head back against the pillow, panting and sweating from the aftermath of your self-lovemaking. 

You withdrew your hand, catching your breath as the aftershocks of your orgasm faded. Moving lazily, you wiped your fingers clean before reaching for your phone. Just as always, you began typing out a comment—first in line the moment his new video drops. 

Pleasure_Ring: Great video as always! It made me feel really really good! I can’t wait to see the next!! 

Lord_Of_The_Rings_1917: Thanks, baby. I’m glad you enjoyed it. That one was for you.

A minute passed by and another notification popped up on the bottom right of your screen, but this time, it was a direct message.

Lord_Of_The_Rings_1917: I just read your comment. You’re always so supportive. I wish you were here. I’d be fucking you instead of this flimsy toy. 

Your face flushed after reading his message. He was always so quick to respond, and although he was pretty responsive to other commenters too, you couldn’t help but feel like his replies to you were always a bit more personal than the rest. 

Pleasure_Ring: I really wish I was there too! But I admit, I’m a little scared just thinking about it haha. 

Lord_Of_The_Rings_1917 is typing… 

Lord_Of_The_Rings_1917: Scared? How come? 

Pleasure_Ring: I’m a virgin. I’ve never had sex before. 

Most people would find it pathetic to be flirting through a porn site. Even more would say it’s worse to be tangled in a para-social attachment to one of the biggest stars online.

And sure, maybe they're right. You were hooked on the mysterious man with the ridiculous username. But this was your ritual, your private indulgence, the part of yourself you never let anyone else see. Besides, you knew it would never be more than flirtatious comments flashing across a screen. 

Men like him always had plenty of women waiting in their inbox.

Lord_Of_The_Rings_1917: A virgin, huh? That’s cute. What’s a sweet little thing like you doing watching videos like mine?

Pleasure_Ring: Because yours are the only ones that actually satisfy me. Any woman would be lucky to spend even one night with you.

Lord_Of_The_Rings_1917: Oh, sweetheart… I don’t think you could handle a night with me.

Your heart thumps faster in your chest at his response. As much as you wished you could stay up and keep chatting, reality always kicked in. You had responsibilities, so conversations with him were usually cut off after midnight. 

Pleasure_Ring: I don’t think I could either… but I’d still like to try for you.

Pleasure_Ring: It’s getting late, and I’ve got a shift in a few hours. Have a great night, Bucky. And thank you for another wonderful video. <3

Lord_Of_The_Rings_1917: So soon, doll? I was just starting to enjoy our little chat.

You stared at the screen, tempted to type something back to keep the conversation going. Glancing at the clock, you let out a reluctant sigh. 

You logged off before you could second-guess yourself, because you knew that if you responded, you’d be up for hours. 

And when Bucky refreshed the page, impatiently waiting for a response, your username was already gray and your status was offline. 

Bucky laid back in his chair, finishing the last line of the description before hitting upload. He has never been great with captions—or usernames, for that matter… but lately, his descriptions weren’t just filler text to satisfy his fans. They were subtle messages, written only for you.

Need my pleasure ring to come help me out instead. Getting tired of using my hands and toys. Enjoy.

Once everything looked right, he clicked post. Same ritual, same time. Every three days.

The moment his upload went live, he sat up straight in his chair. The glow of the monitor lit his dark room, his eyes glued to the screen. Eleven minutes—that’s how long the video ran. By his calculations, you should already be online and commenting in twelve. 

Two minutes in, he refreshed. Another two more minutes, he refreshed again. Over and over, because he knew. He knew you’d be the first one there in his comment section without fail. 

You always were.

At this point, it’s been well past eleven minutes with zero notifications. In Bucky’s eyes, this was more than enough time for you to receive the notification, watch the video, and send a comment or a message like you usually do. 

So why the hell weren’t you doing it? 

He dedicated this video to you, goddammit. Actually—he dedicated all of his videos to you. But this one especially was planned, recorded, performed with you in mind. And yet, your account still showed offline.

He pumped himself for the first half of the video—his face nuzzled into the softness of his pillow. His groans and grunts were muffled as he fisted himself, his leaking tip grazing against the smooth fabric of his bed sheet, leaving a wet stain every time he grounded and bucked his hips. 

Then about halfway through, he reached for the clear silicone toy. He positioned the camera against the headboard, sitting up straight as he started fucking himself with the toy—the clear silicone squelching and spreading wider as he rutted into it like an animal. 

“Fuck, yes baby,” he groaned in the video. “S’fucking good, taking all this cock in your tight little virgin pussy.” He said. 

And God was that line especially meant for you. 

It was a damn good video—he was so fucking proud of himself. Which only made it harder for Bucky to understand why your account still showed offline.

With an annoyed sigh, he propped his elbow on the desk, chin resting in his palm, and refreshed one more time for good measure. When nothing changed, he clicked on your profile and began to lurk.

For all the attention you gave him, your account was practically a ghost. No videos. No profile picture. No caption. No name. You were only following one account—his. And you had one follower, too… also him.

Bucky never followed anyone else. 

He scrolled down a bit, and his eyes widened at what he saw on the screen. 

Your account was linked to your social media profiles—your Instagram and TikTok.

In order to create an account, you had to attach a phone number or email address. During sign-up, there was also the option to link your social media—tied to that same phone number or email—a small popup buried among the usual flood of terms, agreements, and permission requests that appeared in sequence.

So either you let it slip past you, your finger tapping carelessly just to get it out of the way.

Or… you wanted him to find you.

The cursor hovered over the link. Bucky sucked in a breath, clicking on your Instagram. When the screen finally loaded, his eyes immediately widened and his heart skipped a beat. Your profile was public. Your name was right at the top, and there you were in your profile picture—smiling, front and center.

Aside from his secret porn account, Bucky didn’t do social media. He couldn’t be bothered figuring out how it works, but he knew enough to recognize that Instagram was all about pictures and videos. And that was exactly what he needed.

Finally, he could see you.

His number one fan. His pleasure ring. 

He scrolled down, coming across a mix of photos. Selfies, your eyes bright and innocent with a sheepish smile. Food. Didn’t care. Landmarks. Didn't care. Pictures of family and friends—he only looked for you. 

There were beach shots, carefree and playful, your body posted in a skimpy bikini glowing in the sunlight. 

His breath caught in his throat. His pants grew tighter. He shifted in his seat, trying to adjust the growing pressure between his legs. He leaned closer as he looked through every picture, careful not to accidentally leave a like in his wake. 

“Damn, baby,” he muttered, staring at your pictures, unable to tear his eyes away. 

He scrolled down, saving every single image that displayed your face and your body—each one feeling like a treasure.

All the pictures of you were seemingly innocent. Even in your bikini shots, you weren’t trying to show off. You didn’t jut your hips out or pose provocatively. Your pictures weren’t screaming for attention. 

It was cute. 

But it just made him want more. Need more. He would’ve loved to see you bend over just a little bit. Maybe even press your arms together to accentuate your cleavage.

God. He would’ve loved to see that. 

His dick throbbed in his pants as he scrolled further down your Instagram. More selfies of you just meant more photos in his special folder. With one hand rubbing himself steadily and the other on the mouse, he hovered over your TikTok link next. 

Once your page loaded, he felt his heart drop in his stomach. 

There were only two videos, both of them being with your friends. It was some stupid trend you were doing—Bucky never understood the whole appeal of trends—but you were dancing to them, and his heart skipped a beat in his chest as he watched, captivated. 

Your dancing was… pretty bad to say the least. Actually, it was awful. 

But Bucky couldn’t tear his eyes away because he got a full view of your body. Every movement of your body, even the clumsy dance steps, had him entranced. The rhythm was completely off, but it didn’t matter. It was the way you moved, the curve of your body in each frame. 

His cock was completely hard, poking and straining against the fabric of his sweatpants. He was palming himself for so long, his warm hand rubbing up and down against his throbbing clothed shaft—he didn’t even realize the precum leaking through his pants until his fingers grazed against it. 

“Shit,” he grunted. 

There was something about watching you—his once mysterious, loyal viewer and commenter—right here, in his monitor. Dancing. Your body on display, completely unaware, yet captivating in every move.

He grabbed the hem of his sweatpants and brought it down to his thighs, freeing his cock from the suffocating fabric. His hand encircled around his shaft, his grip tightening just slightly as he began pumping himself. He dragged his thumb over the wetness of his tip, smearing it over the head. 

Bucky let out a low groan, his breathing growing heavy as he fucked his hand to the sight of you. With the other hand, he kept switching through your photos, moving faster as his cock throbbed helplessly in his grip. 

He grunted and groaned, staring at his monitor with half-lidded eyes as he stroked himself. He stopped at another picture of you, a top down selfie with a low cut blouse. Your eyes—wide and innocent, batting up at the camera, the curve of your breast straining against the shirt. 

A low moan rumbled from his chest at the sight. His hands moved faster and eagerly against his cock, precum leaking down from the tip to his shaft as he pumped and worked his throbbing dick. 

“Fuck, baby. I want to cum all over that pretty face,” he breathed. “Gonna paint your face and tits with my seed—shit.” 

Everything was overwhelming his senses right now. Your pure and clueless eyes, the way your lips—soft and plump—curved up into a smile. 

Everything about you screamed ‘innocent.’ 

And the best part of it all, was that you were a fucking virgin. A helpless, clueless, little virgin. Perfectly ripe for the picking.

His cock throbbed hot and heavy in his hand, each pulse bringing him closer. He could hardly believe it—your social media, left wide open, public and linked straight to your account. Like an invitation. 

Like you wanted him to see.

His fist worked faster, the slick sounds of his own hand echoing in the dark room. He was right there, teetering at the edge, when another one of your videos caught his eye. A casual clip, nothing special—just you laughing with your friends, the camera panning across a storefront in the background.

His heart lurched in his chest. He knew that place.

He blinked hard, his other hand flying to the mouse as he replayed the clip, pausing on the sign. His pulse roared in his ears. That store was only a few streets away. Which meant…

You were here. In his town.

“Fuck—” 

The word ripped out of him as his body jerked. His cock erupted in his fist, hot streams spilling over his knuckles and thigh as he shook, riding the wave of release harder than he had in years. Harder than he had in any of his videos. The excitement, the discovery, the sudden nearness of you—it all came crashing into him, tearing his orgasm from the very pit of his stomach.

He slumped back against his chair, chest heaving, eyes still glued to the frozen frame of your smiling face. 

You weren’t just his number one fan anymore. Fuck, you were real. You were so close, and now, he knew exactly where to find you. 

He was still catching his breath when he switched tabs, his cock softening in his hand as he scrolled deeper through your pictures. Every shot held him captive. Was this how you felt when you watched his videos—entranced, unable to look away?

A few minutes had gone by when he heard a ping! sound from his other tab. He switched over, and there you were. Your account, blank as ever, no profile picture, no name, but now a message glowing at the bottom of the screen.

Pleasure_Ring: Loved your new video! It was amazing as always. I can’t believe your toy isn’t broken yet!

He felt his heart stutter in his chest. A needy grin curled at the corner of his lips. You were late to his video, but that’s okay. He had your videos and pictures to keep him at bay for now. His fingers darted across the keyboard, replying almost too quickly. 

Lord_Of_The_Rings_1917: Glad you liked it, doll. Took you longer than usual to show up tonight.

His fingers hovered over the keys, debating if he wanted to send this next message or not.

Lord_Of_The_Rings_1917: Had me wondering if you forgot about me. 

You took longer than usual to respond, and even though he was coming down from his post-release haze, his heart was still pounding anxiously in his chest.

Pleasure_Ring is typing… 

Pleasure_Ring: I know! I’m sorry. I got distracted cooking dinner. 

Pleasure_Ring: But I could never forget about you, Bucky. 

His grip on the mouse tightened, and he felt his cock twitching again. God, he loved when you said—typed—his name. But the longer he stared at your words, the more restless he felt. He needed more. 

He needed you.

Lord_Of_The_Rings_1917: Dinner, huh? You had me worried there for a second. You’re usually the first one here. Couldn’t stand the thought of you forgetting me.

Lord_Of_The_Rings_1917: You know… I don’t even know your name. What should I call you, sweetheart?

He already knew it, of course. 

He could say it out loud, taste it on his tongue right now if he wanted. But he wanted you to give it to him. To hand it over willingly. 

He saw you typing, then stopping. Typing again, then stopping. The little dots taunted him, making his jaw clench. He hated this. He hated playing the waiting game—especially now that he knew you were just a few minutes away, living in the same town as him.

Pleasure_Ring: Do I really need to tell you my name? I kinda like being your little secret. <3

Pleasure_Ring: Besides… I think you like calling me doll, don’t you?

Bucky’s brow twitched in mild frustration, his cock throbbing in his lap again as his eyes traced your text over and over. You were a teasing little minx—taunting him, torturing him. He knew you were obsessed with him just as much as he was with you, so why the hell were you playing so damn hard to get?

Lord_Of_The_Rings_1917: Come on, baby. Don’t be like that. 

Lord_Of_The_Rings_1917: You touch yourself to my videos every night, and yet you can’t even share your name? Don’t make me beg for it. 

He dragged in a sharp breath as he waited for your reply, his hand lazily stroking his half-hard cock while he leaned back in his chair, tension swimming through every vein.

Pleasure_Ring: You’re so silly, Bucky. 

Pleasure_Ring: Why ruin the mystery? I kind of like it this way… just you and me, no names needed. <3 

His cock was rock-hard again, straining for a second round. He wrapped his fist around it as he split his screen in two—one tab open to a photo of you smiling sweetly, the other to your chat box on the site. His strokes were slow, shudders slipping past his lips as he teased the sensitive flesh. Every pulse in his palm matched the flick of his gaze between your face and your words.

Lord_Of_The_Rings_1917: You won’t give me your name, but I bet you’d spread your legs wide and let me fuck you like the needy little slut you really are.

He was playing a dangerous game with that message. It was too direct, maybe even a little mean. He might even risk scaring you away. 

But with your picture staring back at him, soft and innocent, how the hell was he supposed to hold back? 

Pleasure_Ring is typing… 

Pleasure_Ring: I would do anything you’d want me to if you were here. 

His heart stopped. His cock throbbed violently as the words sank in, repeating it in his mind like a prayer. A sweet little virgin like you, so naive, so unknowing, willing to let a man like him do anything to you?

Lord_Of_The_Rings_1917: Oh, sweetheart. You shouldn’t have said that. 

He couldn’t hold back anymore. He stroked himself faster, pressure coiling hot at the base as he pumped his length with desperate need. Groans tore from his chest, hips jerking up into his fist as pleasure overtook him.

In his mind, it wasn’t just his hand—it was you. You on his bed, camera capturing every angle as you wrapped those innocent lips around his cock. You moaning, trembling, surrendering that precious virginity to a filthy porn star like him.

Pleasure_Ring: Maybe. But I really would do anything you’d ask me to.

And fuck, you lived in the same town as him. You actually lived in the same town as him. 

It would be so easy to find you. To claim you. To stuff your tight, untouched little holes full of him until you were stretched and dripping, used just like one of his toys.

The thought alone was enough to make him come a second time. With his head tilted back, a low growl-like moan escaped his throat. His hips stuttered wildly as his release tore through him in sharp waves of pleasure, hot seed spilling over his fist until his hand was a sticky, soiled mess.

He slumped back in his chair, breath ragged as he wiped himself clean with hurried, clumsy hands. His fingertips grazed the keyboard, already halfway through typing his next message. 

He couldn’t let the moment die, he didn’t want to lose you just yet. 

Lord_Of_The_Rings_1917 is typing… 

But then your text bubble popped up first.

Pleasure_Ring: It’s late, so I’ll be going to sleep now. I’m sorry our conversation got cut short. But thank you again for your video! I’m already looking forward to the next one! <3 Nighty night, Bucky!

And just like that, your status flickered gray. Offline. Gone.

His hand froze over the keys.

What? 

That’s it? 

You showed up online extremely late, give him a few teasing words that leave him aching, and just… log off? 

Lord_Of_The_Rings_1917: Come on, baby. You can’t leave like that. Aren’t you having fun? 

He knew you were offline, yet he sent the message anyway—clinging to the hope that maybe your status would flicker green and you’d answer him right away, being his number one fan and all. 

A minute passed. Then another. And another.

He sat there, staring at the empty chat box, his foot tapping impatiently against the wooden floor. When it finally sank in that you weren’t coming back, he closed the porn tab with a long and disappointing sigh. Dozens of comments waited for him on his latest video, begging for his attention—but he didn’t care. He couldn’t be bothered.

All he wanted was you. 

Your picture still glowed on his other monitor, your smile taunting him. He pulled his pants back on, leaning forward as his mind spun. You were so close—he could feel it. And with your account still open, still public, still inviting, he knew he wouldn’t stop.

He would find you.

And once he did, you would be his.

It had been three days since you last commented on his videos. Three days without your little messages, without your sweet words that fueled him through the long and lonely nights. 

Bucky was restless. 

He kept checking your account, refreshing the page, waiting for that familiar username that was dedicated to him to pop up in his notifications list again. But instead, you were busy elsewhere. 

Your Instagram was suddenly so active. Story after story, pictures of food, photos of crowded streets, little story clips of you laughing with friends. They were all innocent things, but to him, they were breadcrumbs. 

He looked closely at the background in your stories, taking screenshots and zooming in on shop signs and store logos. Most of these were ones he recognized. He compared timestamps, piecing together your routine slowly.

Each update you shared felt like you were inviting him in, pulling him closer without even realizing. 

And no—he wouldn’t call himself a stalker. Sure, he scrolled through all your socials, jerked off to your pictures, learned your full name, the area you lived in, who you spent time with. 

But that wasn’t stalking.

That was devotion. 

He was your number one fan. Just like you were his.

Your cart wobbled against the tiled floor as you turned into the produce aisle. Today was your weekly grocery restock. The store was busy, noisy, and packed with people trying to weave in and out of each other’s way. You grabbed your phone out of your pocket and snapped a quick picture of the cotton candy grapes piled high in their cartons. 

They were your favorite, and this was the only grocery store near your area that carried them. 

Try these! They taste just like cotton candy! 

You added the caption and posted it to your story, sliding your phone back into your bag before moving on. A few minutes later, as you rounded the corner towards checkout, someone brushed past your shoulder.

You glanced up, and a man stood there, tall and broad-shouldered. 

“Sorry,” he mumbled, his voice low, achingly familiar. “Didn’t see you there.” 

You smiled politely, brushing it off. “No worries.” 

You went back to your cart, but for some reason, your gaze lingered on him for just a second longer. There was something… familiar about the way he carried himself, about the way his words came out and how he looked.

You shook the thought off and pushed the cart forward, but you didn’t get very far when he stepped behind you, resting a gentle yet heavy hand on your shoulder. 

You glanced over and paused. The same man was staring at you, his eyes locked on yours with a look like that feels unsettling. You cleared your throat, shifting uncomfortably under his gaze. 

“Uh… can I help you?”

His jaw tightened, his grip on your shoulder pressing just a little harder.

“...Pleasure ring?” 

Those words rang back in your ears like a loud bell. Your eyes went wide and you felt like your heart dropped in your stomach. Your gaze darted quickly around the aisle, checking to make sure no one else was close enough to hear. 

“I—I’m sorry? What did you just say?”

He narrowed his eyes slightly. “Aren’t you happy to see me?” 

The longer you stare at this man, the realization hits you all at once. The thickness of his neck. The breadth of his shoulders. The sheer size of him, impossible to mistake. You’ve seen this frame before—night after night, on a glowing screen.

You leaned in slightly, whisper-yelling, “You’re Lord of The Rings nineteen-seventeen? You’re Bucky?” 

The ridiculous username felt even more absurd now that it left your lips.

He didn’t even look around or even seemed to care about his alter ego being mentioned outloud. All he cared about right now was having you, right in front of him. 

“...You haven’t been watching my videos,” Bucky said instead. His thumb brushed once across your shoulder, subtle but possessive. “Are you okay?”

The words should have sounded caring, but instead they struck you like an accusation. Your pulse quickened, panic rising up your throat. 

He was watching you that closely? 

He noticed? 

How did he even find you here? 

“I—uh—yeah, I’ve just been… busy,” you muttered. 

You knew you should step back and pull away from his touch. This man was stalking you. Yet, your body betrayed you. The deep rasp of his voice sent a warm sensation trickling down your spine, curling in the pit of your stomach. 

Creeped out or not, your body remembered him. It remembered his moans, his growls, the way he spoke dirty to the camera like he was speaking only to you. 

“I’ve missed you in my comments,” he continued, his hand moving from your shoulder to the ends of your hair, twirling it with his fingers. “I’ve missed our cute little chats… haven’t you?” 

You sucked in a breath. 

The loud chatter of customers and grocery carts dimmed into the background noise. You should pull away, God you should pull away—but your body swayed just slightly towards him instead. 

“Y-yeah,” your voice was soft and shaky. “I… I do too.” 

The moment the words left your mouth, your stomach curled with dread. Yet, your body didn’t match your fear. Your chest was rising and falling faster, your thighs pressing together instinctively. You hated the way a tiny spark of excitement flickered inside you when he stepped closer. 

Bucky’s mouth curled into a faint smirk, like he knows your own body is betraying you. He gave your strand of hair a gentle, teasing tug before letting it fall. 

“That’s my good girl,” he murmured, his eyes tracing every curve on your face, studying you, taking you in. 

You pressed your lips together, you stared back at him, captivated. He never showed his face in his videos—only his body, hands, and voice. You had always wondered what the man behind the camera looked like, and now here he was, inches away. He was unbelievably handsome. His gaze was intense. His voice was magnetic. You couldn’t look away, even if you tried.

“Are you nervous?” 

You blinked at him. “What?” 

A small chuckle escaped his lips, his hand lifted up to your cheek, cupping it softly and making your skin tingle. 

“You teased me in your texts,” he reminded you, his voice deep. “Told me you’d let me do anything to you if I was with you.” His thumb brushed your cheek softly, almost soothing. 

“How true does that still ring?” 

Your eyes darted nervously around the aisle. A few people passed by with carts, sparing you both brief, casual glances. To them, it probably looked like nothing more than a man grocery shopping with his girlfriend, caressing her cheek tenderly.

But you knew better.

“I…” your lip trembled nervously. “I-It’s still true…” 

His mouth curved into a slow, smug smile, as if he knew exactly what kind of effect he had on you—how easily your knees wanted to give beneath you. 

“That’s my girl,” he murmured, tucking a stray strand of hair behind your ear. “My number one fan.”

You felt your stomach tighten. Every inch of your skin felt hot under his gaze. This was dangerous—you knew it. You were untouched, inexperienced, but the way he looked at you, the way his voice reached your ears, only made the ache between your legs grow heavier.

“How ‘bout we go back to your place,” he leaned in slightly, voice getting lower and dangerous, “and you do your grocery shopping later?” 

Your heart felt like it could burst out of your chest. You glanced down at your cart, the cotton candy grapes you’d been so excited to buy, and then back up at him. The way he held you, the way his eyes burned into yours, the very offer you’ve been secretly dreaming of despite your nerves…

It made the idea of staying here feel like hell. 

“Okay,” you breathed out. “Yeah, let’s… let’s go back to my place.” 

A small, approved hum escaped his lips. He pulled his hand away from your cheek and trailed his hand down to your bare arm, down to your hands—interlocking his fingers with yours. 

“Lead the way, princess.” 

This was wrong. So dangerously, undeniably wrong. But you had spent countless nights dreaming about this man, the pornstar with the ridiculous username, and now he was right here, holding your hand.

He led you out of the store with a smile on his face, already looking proud to have you by his side even though you guys just met. 

“I can’t wait to see your place, princess,” he murmured smoothly, stopping just outside the sliding doors. His gaze dropped down to you, quiet and expectant, waiting for you to take the lead.

“There are so many things I want to do to you.”

By the time you reached your front door, your heart was hammering so hard it felt like it might break free from your chest. 

Your hands trembled so badly you could barely fit the key into the lock. Bucky stood behind you, his presence comforting yet demanding as he waited for you to open the door. 

The door finally opened, and you felt an insane wave of embarrassment as soon as he stepped inside. Your apartment wasn’t exactly ready for company. You had shoes littered near the door, laundry draped over the arm of the couch, your desk drowning in clutter.

He looked around and let out a low and amused hum. 

This was a terrible idea, inviting a stranger into your home. You’ve never done this before. But he’s not technically that much of a stranger if you two have been talking online for months now… right? 

“Show me your bedroom, sweetheart,” he said, his tone gentle but leaving no room for disobedience.

When he sensed your hesitation, his chin tilted subtly toward the hallway, like he already knew exactly where your bedroom was. That smug smile never left his lips.

“Go on.” 

You swallowed hard and turned toward the hallway, each step feeling heavy and anxious. You were nervous, extremely nervous. But the excitement of having a man in your home, this man you’d been secretly attracted to for months, sent a shiver of arousal down your spine.

You led him down the hallway, his footsteps heavy behind you. Pausing at your door, you glanced back over your shoulder. His smile widened, eyes glinting.

“You gettin’ shy, doll?” 

Your cheeks burned, and with a shaky exhale you pushed the door open.

Embarrassment hit instantly. The bed was undone, white sheets tangled in a mess, with clothes scattered lazily across the mattress. He stood in the doorway, his silence madly deafening while you stood there nervously with your hands clasped behind your back, waiting for him to say something.

Finally, he stepped forward, the corner of his mouth curving upward.

“I like your room, princess,” he said smoothly. He stepped up to the edge of your bed, his fingers dragging lightly across the wrinkles in your blanket.

“Is there where you watch my videos?” he asked. “Do you touch yourself right here, in this bed?” 

“I—I… do sometimes,” you confessed. You pointed your finger toward the desktop in the corner of the room. “Sometimes I watch… on my laptop.” 

His head turned to follow your finger, a smile tugging at his lips. He strode toward the desk, fingers grazing over the surface.

“Yeah? This is where you chat with me?” his fingertips trailed slowly across the top, pausing over the chair. “You sit here, spread those pretty legs on this chair, and put your fingers in that tiny little pussy of yours?”

You fiddled with your fingers, too flustered to meet his gaze. “Y-yes…”

He came back to you, steps steady and eyes locked on your face. When he reached you, he took one of your hands, gently prying it from the other, holding it in his much larger one. His palm stroked against yours, tender in contrast to his words. Then he lifted your hand slowly, pressing  a soft kiss to your knuckles, his eyes half-lidded and dark.

“How did you find me?” you asked softly. 

He exhaled, rubbing soft circles against your skin. “You stopped commenting on my videos. You stopped chatting with me. And I know it was only a few days…” his voice went softer, “…but doll, I missed you.”

Your heart fluttered wildly in your chest, your face hot and warm. The ache between your thighs pulsed with every word he spoke.

“I missed you so damn much. Couldn’t stop thinking about you…” he continued, pressing another kiss to your hand, then brushing your knuckles along the slight stubble of his jaw. “I couldn’t help it. I started looking through your account.”

You sucked in a breath, looking up at him as he continued.

“Your account was blank. No name. No picture. Nothing.” His voice dropped lower. “But your social media was linked, all public and left wide open.” His smile deepened, almost smug as he leaned in closer, his nose brushing yours. 

“You wanted me to see them, didn’t you?”

His voice was so raspy and so hungry, it made your whole body shiver. You couldn’t trust your voice, especially not when you were so afraid it would crack and betray how timid, how inexperienced you really were. 

“I-I… didn’t know—”

“Oh, but you did,” he cut you off, one hand still intertwined with yours, the other cupping your cheek. “You wanted me to find you. I bet you hoped I’d click, hoped I’d follow the trail…” 

He spoke so confidently and so sure of himself—but the truth was something else entirely. You didn’t realize that your social media was tied to your account and you didn’t bother to check. You had only made that account to interact with Bucky’s videos only. 

You should have been afraid. The way he tracked you down, the way he admitted to stalking your socials—it should have terrified you.

But it didn’t.

It only made your body burn with excitement, your core clenching with a hunger that only he can satisfy. 

“You teasing little slut,” he murmured, his voice growing rough. “But you’re not a slut, are you? You’re a virgin—isn’t that right?” 

You nodded. “I-I am…” 

“And you’d still do anything for me? Anything at all?”

You paused for a moment. You knew exactly what he meant. He hadn’t followed you home for small talk. 

Your body screamed yes, aching for him, but your mind shook with hesitation. You've seen his videos. You knew how rough he could be. How brutal his thrusts looked, how the silicone toys bent and threatened to snap beneath his strength. The way his grip tightened until his muscles flexed and strained—it was terrifying, yet intoxicating. 

Could you really take him? You weren’t sure. 

But God, you wanted to try.

So you nodded.

An approved and low growl escaped his lips. He leaned closer, pausing right before your lips. 

“There are so many fucking things I want to do to you, princess,” he rasped. “First, I’m going to kiss you—then I’ll teach you how to really please a man. And after that…” his mouth curved into a wicked smile, “I’ll show you how a man properly pleases his woman. You understand?”

“O-okay.” 

His lips pressed against yours. 

It started off soft, patient, exploratory—until his hunger took over. The kiss deepened, his mouth grew reckless, his tongue desperate. His hands roamed greedily, gripping your waist, pulling you closer. He broke away only to tug at your clothes, then immediately slammed his lips back against yours like he couldn’t resist you. 

“Fuck, sweetheart,” he groaned into your mouth. “You taste exactly like I imagined—maybe even better. Shit.” 

Bucky was getting harder by the second, but truthfully, he’d been aching since the moment he laid eyes on you in the store. But now, with you trembling in his arms, he finally had you. 

He caught your hand in his, guiding it down until your palm pressed against the thick bulge straining against his jeans, you shuddered at the contact. Your fingers started moving without you thinking, rubbing against him in small, and timid strokes.

He let out a low chuckle. “Look at you, baby. You want it so bad, don’t you?” 

Your breath hitched, and you could only nod, meek and shy. 

He moved your hand along his clothed length, forcing you to feel every ridge of him. His lip caught between his teeth as he let out a hiss of pleasure. He was so hard for you—so desperate—that he started to feel himself leaking just from the friction of your trembling palm.

“Fuck, baby,” he grunted, ripping your hand away from his crotch. 

You blinked up at him, startled and confused.

He reached in the back of his jean pocket, pulling out a small camcorder. His breathing was heavy, and his eyes were dark. 

“Baby,” he rasped, voice needy. “I want to record this. I want to see you undress for me… capture every second of it.” His fingers trembled as he flipped the device open, eyes half-lidded, fixated on you like a starving man.

“Bucky…”

“What do you say, baby?” he pressed, taking a slow step forward.

You bit your bottom lip, nerves tying your stomach in knots. You weren’t ready for this—not at all. But the thought of being behind Bucky’s lens, of being admired and captured the same way you had admired him through his videos, made your skin warm with anticipation. 

He grabbed your hand gently. “I won’t upload it,” he promised. “This one’s just for me—to keep, to look back on. Think you can give me that, doll?”

His words were soft yet strained with a lust and desire that he was desperately trying to hold back. The ache between your legs pulsed harder with every word, and deep down, you already knew you couldn’t say no.

“…Okay,” you whispered. “I want to be put on display for you, Bucky. I want to be yours.”

A slow, satisfied smile curved his lips. “That’s my girl.”

He nodded toward the bed. “Stay there, at the edge. Watch me.”

You stood frozen, captivated, as he began to strip down. Shirt, jeans, everything—gone in moments, until his bare and large body stretched against your sheets and rested against the headboard. With one hand, he steadied the camcorder, and with the other, he reached for himself slowly.

“Take your clothes off,” he ordered, the red recording light blinking as the camera pointed straight at you. “I want every second of this. Give me a show, baby.”

Heat climbed your chest and neck as you began lifting your shirt, pulling it over your head. You glanced at him—and your knees nearly buckled. He was already stroking himself, precum glistening at the flushed tip, his chest heaving with each desperate pump.

“Good girl.” 

You pushed your pants down, stepping out of them until you stood in nothing but your bra and panties. Your hands fidgeted nervously at your sides—not knowing what to do with them next.

“D-do you… want me to keep going?”

A dark chuckle slipped from his lips, almost mocking. “Oh, baby. You’re fucking adorable, you know that?” his hand pumped slow and hard, his cock twitching under his touch. “Yes. Keep going. Take it all off, nice and slow for me…”

Your fingers trembled as they hooked around the strap of your bra, sliding it off your shoulders before unclasping it. The straps fell loose, and you let it slip from your hands. The cool air rushed against your bare chest, making your nipples pebble instantly. 

“Panties, baby,” he murmured, voice rough. “Get rid of ‘em.”

Slowly, you eased them down your legs, stepping out of them until you stood completely bare before him. Your arms instinctively folded in front of you, trying to hide yourself.

Bucky’s mouth curved into a smug grin. “Don’t you dare hide from me. You’re too pretty to cover up.”

Your arms dropped hesitantly at your sides, and his grin only widened.

“Good girl,” he rasped. He shifted against the headboard, spreading his legs wider, the thick length of his cock pulsing as his fist pumped it. “Now crawl to me, princess.”

“C-crawl..?” 

His eyes darkened, his hand tightening around himself. “That’s right. On your hands and knees. Crawl over here like the sweet little virgin you are.”

Your breath caught, and for a second you thought you wouldn’t be able to move at all. But his hungry stare made your body obey before your mind could catch up. You climbed onto the bed, the mattress dipping slightly, and lowered yourself onto your hands and knees. 

Slowly, you crawled toward him, the soft sheets brushing against your bare skin, your heart beating fast in your chest. 

Bucky let out a low and approving growl, the camcorder following your every move. 

“That’s it, baby… fuck—” he groaned. “You look so perfect like this. Like you were made to kneel for me.” 

You swallowed hard as you approached him, staring at his cock—thick and hard, flushed at the tip. Your lips parted as you let out a soft gasp—the sheer size of him made your throat go dry. 

“Have you ever had a dick in your mouth, baby?” he asked. 

You can only shake your head no. 

He let go of himself, his free hand sliding into your hair, guiding you closer to his lap. “Open that pretty mouth for me, doll,” he coaxed. “I want to be the first man you taste.” 

How could something that big possibly fit in your mouth? His grip kept you steady, urging you forward. 

“There you go,” he smirked, watching your nervous little breaths. “God, you’re trembling. Don’t worry, sweetheart, I’ll teach you exactly how to do it. All you gotta do is listen to me.”

“Stick out that tongue—yeah, just like that. Such a good girl.” His thumb brushed the corner of your mouth before pressing down on your lower lip, opening you wider. “Mm, look at you. Never done this before, huh?”

You shook your head, embarrassed, but he only chuckled.

“Of course not. My innocent little fan, saving herself for me,” he guided you closer until the blunt tip of his cock brushed your tongue, smearing precum across it. The taste was strange, salty and thick, and you whimpered softly at the unfamiliar sensation.

His laugh was low and condescending, but not cruel. “That’s it, baby. Don’t pout so cutely like that… only makes it harder for me to hold back.”

He stroked your hair, petting you like you were some pet while his hips gave a subtle roll forward, testing you. 

“Just wrap those lips around me nice and slow. I want to see that sweet virgin mouth stuffed full of cock for the first time.”

Your lips closed timidly around him, sealing over the tip as your tongue flicked against it, tasting more of that salty, musky flavor. Your jaw ached instantly, but the way he groaned, deep and guttural, made you shiver with pride.

“There you go,” he praised, fingers tightening in your hair. “God, look at you. My perfect little virgin, already learning how to please me.”

You tried to sink further, taking more of him in, but the sheer thickness made your throat tighten. You gagged softly, tears threatening to well in your eyes, and pulled back with a desperate little gasp.

“Oh, sweetheart,” he murmured, thumb brushing your damp cheek. “That was good, baby. So fucking good. Just relax your jaw, take it slow. You’ve got such a tiny mouth—I didn’t expect you to take all of me your first try.”

His hand guided you down again, inch by inch, your lips stretching around him as drool began to slick your chin. He hissed through his teeth, head falling back against the headboard.

“That’s it… fuck, that’s it. God, you don’t even know how sweet you look right now, doll. Choking on my cock like you were made for it.”

You felt his cock pulse on your tongue, thick veins throbbing against the roof of your mouth. 

“Fuck—baby—” he growled, his breathing ragged as his cock twitched violently. “Gonna—shit—gonna cum down your throat—”

Suddenly, his hand yanked you back, pulling your mouth off him with a wet pop. You gasped, spit stringing between your lips and his swollen tip, confused and dazed.

“W-what…?”

“Not yet,” he panted, his hand flying to his cock and holding it still, trying to calm himself down. 

His chest heaved, his eyes glazed and hungry as he stared at your flushed, ruined face. “Not wasting my first load on your mouth, princess. I’ve been waiting too long for you.”

“Bucky…” 

He leaned forward, thumb smearing your spit across your swollen lips. “No… I’m gonna be the first man to cum inside this virgin cunt.”

He adjusted the camera in his hands, sitting up straighter. “Lay down,” he ordered, nodding toward the mattress. “Face down, ass up.”

His words were so filthy and vulgar—it made your face burn—but still, you obeyed. Lowering yourself onto shaky arms, you crawled forward and eased your chest against the mattress. Your cheek pressed into the sheets as you raised your ass for him, baring yourself under his gaze.

The arch felt awkward, your back straining from holding the position. But the low, hungry sound that escaped from his chest sent a shiver of pride racing through you. You pushed yourself even higher, desperate to please him.

“Look at you. My shy little virgin, already posing like a whore for me,” the sound of the camcorder’s little beep made your body tense—he was recording this, capturing you in such a vulnerable position.

The mattress dipped as he shuffled closer, his large palm running over the curve of your ass. You gasped, burying your face into the sheets in embarrassment.

“You’re trembling,” he noted, squeezing the soft flesh in his hand. “You nervous, baby?”

You nodded weakly, voice muffled against the pillow. “Y-Yeah…”

“Mmm, but you’re already being so sweet for me,” he rasped, his thumb gently pressing against your wet, slit folds. “Your pretty little cunt is weeping just for me, sweetheart.” 

You let out a soft gasp, the camcorder beeped again as he adjusted it to get a better view. His grin widened with hunger. 

“Don’t worry, doll. I’ll take care of you. Gonna stretch this virgin pussy nice and slow… and make you put on the sweetest show for my camera.”

He teased your pussy, thumb rubbing over your entrance and his finger rubbing against your clit. You were already so wet—embarrassingly so.

“God, baby… you’re dripping,” he groaned, the camcorder beeping softly as he angled it lower. “All this for me?”

You whimpered into the sheets, trembling as he shifted his hand and pressed a finger, testing your tightness before slowly sinking inside. 

You gasped louder, your whole body jolting forward against the mattress even though it was just his finger. “B-Bucky!” 

“Shhh, it’s okay, sweetheart,” he murmured, leaning close. “Just my finger. Gotta test this tight little pussy before I give you more.”

He moved slowly, letting you adjust to his finger as you writhed against the sheets, your walls already fluttering helplessly around him. He slowly eased another finger inside, drawing out a desperate moan from you. 

“So tight,” he groaned so low, almost like he was talking to himself. “So fucking tight—baby. Can’t wait to put my cock inside you…” 

When he finally slipped his finger free, you sagged against the bed in relief—but then you felt him shifting behind you. The camcorder beeped again, and the feel of his heavy, thick cock pressed against your entrance—hot and throbbing.

You suddenly remembered how his toys would stretch helplessly around his thickness—literally on the verge of tearing. Your eyes widened. You weren’t sure if you could take him fully. 

“B-Bucky…” your stomach started twisting with nerves. “You’re too big… I don’t think I can—” 

“You can, baby,” he interrupted softly, steadying himself with a hand at your hip. He leaned close, his lips brushing your ear. “I’ll go slow. I’ll take care of you.”

He pushed forward before you could say anything. The thick tip pushed past your virgin walls. You cried out at the burn, your hands gripping the sheets.

“I know, I know,” he soothed, though his voice shook with restraint. “I’m sorry, doll. I’m so big, I know—but you’re doing so fucking good for me.” 

The stretch hurt, but it also made a strange heat bloom low in your belly.

He kissed the back of your shoulder, keeping himself still while you trembled beneath him. “Breathe for me, princess. Let me in nice and slow… I promise—it’s gonna feel so good.”

Your fingers clawed at the sheets as you let out a high, broken moan.

“Shhh, that’s it, baby,” Bucky rasped, his voice thick with both lust and control. “My sweet little virgin… finally getting split open by a real cock.”

You shook your head against the mattress, gasping. “B-Bucky—it’s too big, I can’t—I can’t take it—”

He hushed you softly, his hand sliding from your hip to rub comforting circles against your trembling waist. 

“Yes you can, doll. You’re made for this—you’ve been watching my videos every night. Studying me. Practicing with your pretty little fingers and wishing it was me, isn’t that right?” His cock inched deeper, slow but relentless, his breath hitching at the unbearable tightness of you.

“That’s my girl,” he encouraged, pressing kisses along your bare shoulder. “Doing so good for me. Ruinin’ this sweet little virgin pussy nice and slow…” 

A sharp moan escaped you as he sank another inch inside, your body trembling around him.

“God… you’re squeezing me so fucking tight,” he groaned, teeth grazing your shoulder as he adjusted the camera with one hand, angling it to capture the stretch of his cock sliding in and out of you. The red light blinked, recording every second of your first time.

“Such a sweet little thing,” he moaned, condescending but tender. “Crying on my cock like you don’t love it—but listen to yourself, baby. You’re moaning like a slut already!”

Another desperate cry left your lips, and he groaned low in his throat. You adjusted your hips slightly, moving your back a bit to try and get comfortable. The slight movement made his hard cock pulse and throb inside you uncontrollably—the sensation unbearable. 

“Oh, fuck—” he cursed, his breath catching. “Fuck. If you keep moving like that, doll… shit, I’m not gonna last.”

You shuffled your hips back, desperate for more, for him, even though the stretch burned.

“B-Bucky…” you gasped, your voice breaking into a moan. “You’re so big… too big… f-feels so good…”

That praise alone made him groan, his head dropping to your shoulder as his cock twitched inside your tight heat. His hand squeezed your waist, trying to stay in control, trying to savor it, but every little shuffle of your hips threatened to undo him completely.

“Fuck, doll,” he grunted. “You keep saying that—calling me big while you wiggle on my cock so cutely… I’m gonna lose it.”

You moaned again, arching your back to push into him, the words tumbling out between gasps. “Want you, Bucky… wanna take you all… please, you’re so big, fill me up, please…”

That was it.

A sharp growl ripped from his chest as he tossed the camcorder aside, the device landing forgotten on the sheets somewhere. Both his hands clamped down hard on your hips, holding you in place.

“Alright, sweetheart,” he gritted out, voice laced with hunger. “You asked for it.”

With one rough, needy thrust, he drove himself all the way inside, stuffing you full until his hips were flush against your ass. The sudden fullness made you cry out, your walls clamping down on him so tight it pulled another curse from his lips.

“Jesus Christ—this tight little virgin pussy’s gonna kill me,” he gasped, his fingers digging into your hips possessively. “You feel that, doll? That’s me—every fucking inch of me—buried inside you.”

Your cry broke into a helpless moan as he bottomed out, the stretch almost unbearable, but your body clung to him desperately. The way your cunt spasmed around his cock made Bucky curse low and vicious.

“Fuck—look at you,” he growled against your ear, pulling back only to slam in again, harder. “Taking me so deep, squeezing the life outta me. My sweet little virgin, getting ruined on my cock.”

“Bucky—ah—s’too much—” you whimpered, though your hips still rocked back to meet him.

His laugh was dark, breathless. “Too much, huh? Then why’s this greedy little pussy dripping all over me? You’re lovin’ it, doll. You’re lovin’ how I’m stretchin’ you out.” 

Your moans grew louder, more desperate, every inch of you unraveling under his relentless pace. He held your hips so hard you knew he’d leave bruises, pounding into you like he wanted to brand himself inside your body.

“Good girl—fuck, you’re my good girl,” his hips moving rougher and sloppier. “Fuck. So much better than the videos, huh?” 

“Oh my god,” you cursed, your face pushed up against the pillow. “I… can’t—gonna… gonna cum—” your walls fluttered and clenched down on him so tightly as you let your release take over you. 

“Jesus—fuck, sweetheart—” he snarled, hips snapping erratically as he buried himself to the hilt. “Fuck, fuck! Shit… fuck.” His cock pulsed deep inside you, and with a final shuddering thrust he spilled into you, filling you full with hot, warm and thick seed. 

The room was filled with the sound of your ragged moans and his guttural curses, both of you trembling through the aftershocks.

Bucky slumped forward, his weight pressing you into the mattress, his lips brushing the side of your damp and sweaty neck. “That’s it… that’s my girl. Took me so good.”

You were still trembling, your body sensitive and aching, when Bucky finally eased himself out of you with a slow, careful pull. You whined softly at the loss, burying your face into the sheets.

“Easy, doll,” he hushed, his voice husky but gentle. His big hands smoothed over your hips, down your thighs, rubbing away the tension he’d left behind. “You did so good for me. I’m so proud of you.”

You turned your head slightly, catching his smug little grin as he leaned down and pressed a kiss to your damp temple.

“Messy bed, messy girl,” he teased lowly, though his tone held nothing but warmth. He brushed your hair back from your flushed face and tucked it gently behind your ear. “Knew you were my number one fan for a reason.”

Despite your exhaustion, a shy laugh escaped you, your chest fluttering at his words. 

“You’re… so full of yourself,” you mumbled weakly. “H-how did I do…?” 

“You did so fucking good, sweetheart. Shit, I remember when I was a virgin too, baby,” he chuckled, pressing another kiss to the top of your head. “I was a whimpering, sensitive mess. But fuck, I had so much fun ruining you.” 

Your face flushed hot, nuzzling your nose in his chest out of embarrassment. 

He laughed softly, holding you tighter. “Get some rest, princess. We’ll go back for your groceries later.” 

You couldn’t help but laugh again, small and breathless, before your eyes fluttered shut, comforted by his large hands on your waist and the warmth of his body wrapped around yours.

Days passed, and Bucky kept his promise. The video never showed up online. 

He went back to posting his weekly content, but this time, there was something different. In one of his recent uploads, a faint audio clip played in the background as he stroked himself for the camera.

Your moans.

His grunts.

He never showed the footage on screen, but the audio was enough. Enough for you to recognize yourself, enough to leave you trembling in your chair, your fingers buried between your thighs. The thought of him getting off to your body, your sounds, over and over—it made you fall apart embarrassingly fast.

You slumped back in your chair now, thighs trembling, breath uneven as you dragged your hand away from your thighs. For a moment you just sat there, dazed, staring at the frozen video frame on your laptop.

Then a notification blinked in the corner of the screen. 

You clicked it.

Lord_Of_The_Rings_1917: Hey, doll. 

Lord_Of_The_Rings_1917 is typing…

Lord_Of_The_Rings_1917: Can’t stop watching that little video we made. But I dropped the camera right before I got to stuff your pussy full of my cum.

Lord_Of_The_Rings_1917: How about we try filming another one?