pairing: ted garcia x fem!reader
warnings: nsfw, bro needs to get laid bad
a/n: gotta run to my workout class sorry if there are mistakes
Being a public figure meant that even regular activities would always be observed and scrutinized. His coffee order, what groceries he bought, how he interacted with service workers, how he got his hair cut. Plenty of it seemed silly, but the constituents who were not so supportive of him would find any way to negatively paint just about anything Ted could do. So, the mayor had to be aware of his appearances and very discreet with the things he knew were questionable.
But he was just a man. A man whose wife left him with a teenage son who was trying to rebel against him as all teenagers do. A man with the stress of handling people's safety during a pandemic. A man with the responsibility of changing or upholding laws. A man who could dictate the attitudes and behaviors of the people in his town with his own narratives. There was always a lot on his mind.
Trying to resolve the tension himself wasn't working too well. And well, he couldn't try to be intimate with anyone in town - too many chances for something to go wrong and impact his career. So, the mayor resorted to the only option that he deemed to be good enough.
Something private, something cheap, something that would get the job done without ruining his professional reputation. With the door to his bedroom shut, his son out with a singular friend, and his windows completely covered, he opened up his personal laptop and typed up the web address he happened to stumble upon one day.
Plenty of people did paid livestreams or offered recorded content for an adult audience, especially with a pandemic-related job crisis. Everyone was stuck inside needing something to do to get connection and find a way to make enough money to live. Ted's job never gave him a break, but he was grateful to whatever forces brought you to be a content creator on this site.
He couldn't point out what it was about you that made him keep coming back. Your eyes, maybe your smile. The way you seemed to be very authentic in front of the camera. Your shameless dirty talk. How you showed off the way you like being fucked. The rest of the world disappearing from his awareness because somehow you made it feel like you were only ever talking to him.
One night when he felt particularly brave and tense, the mayor used one of his personal credit cards to pay for a private live session with you. For a week, Ted struggled with what he'd done. He wasn't sure if he should chicken out, save himself the headache of worrying if somehow it would bite him in the ass. But when the night came, he couldn't think of anything else but you. And that was rewarding enough to keep him sitting in place.
A rush of adrenaline was pumped through his veins with every beat of his heart. There was a waiting screen. You weren't logged on yet. He clicked into the private session room five minutes early. If his office wasn't enough to give him a heart attack, the five minutes of waiting was surely going to do him in.
"Hi! Can you see and hear me okay?" You asked the moment you popped up on the screen.
His eyes went wide and he took in the pretty crimson red lace adorning your body. Ted typed into the chat as quickly as he could, realizing he had been staring for a little too long.
anonymous_viewer: Yeah, I can see and hear you.
You smiled and he felt his heart flutter like butterfly wings at the sight. This couldn't be healthy of him, but Ted couldn't be bothered to care when you were right there and waiting for him.
"What do I call you?" You inquired, your arms crossing and pushing your breasts together.
anonymous_viewer: Ted
That already felt enough like a risk, his real name going to this lady-stranger he was a little too interested in. But he paid for privacy and discretion. No one else was there to read it.
"That's a cute name, Ted." You replied after your eyes scanned the chat. "I don't wanna waste your time, Ted, so you just let me know what I can do for you. And feel free to turn on your camera or microphone, I promise I won't judge. I like seeing a person and not a blank box."
anonymous_viewer: Can't, privacy
"No one's gonna see you, Ted, it's just me here."
His heart went completely still as his hands moved for him, clicking the features to let his camera and microphone come on. The sincere, sweet concern on your face turned into a beaming grin when you saw his face pop up. Your teeth bit into your lower lip and your eyes wandered over the stranger watching you.
"You're a very handsome man. I'm flattered you wanted this time alone with me."
"Couldn't help it. I've been watching your streams for a while."
You sat up a little taller, "Thank you for supporting me, Ted. What can I do for you tonight? Just for you?"
As your hands brushed the straps of your bra down your shoulders, his mind went blank. You laughed, genuinely, as you saw his jaw drop slightly and dumbly. Ted was happy to watch you just sit there and talk. He didn't know what he could ask for, or what he'd even want to request from you.
"Anything's on the table." You offered, unclipping the back of your bra and letting it fall to the floor. "Pretend you're here, Ted... what would you wanna do with me?"
He took in a breath before answering shyly: "Fuck you 'til the sun comes up."
You turned around, settling on your haunches with your lace-framed ass to the camera. With a little bend forward, you nearly killed him when you glanced back at him from over your shoulder. The naughty little grin on your lips was the cherry on top as your syrupy tone spoke to him again.
"Like this? Or do you like other positions? What are your favorites, Ted?"
"That works just fine." He answered dazedly.
Your hips rocked playfully, showing Ted just what you could be doing on his lap. His hands itched to reach out, feel the supple flesh in your palms, grasp tightly to the muscles, watch it ripple from a smack. The sound of your quiet, breathy gasp as you slid a hand between your legs made Ted's bulge get painful.
"Want me to get a toy out? One that looks a little like you?" You offered, your tone playful.
Ted groaned, his head hitting the back of his office chair and his hand pushing at the bulge in his pants like it would get rid of it.
"You're so quiet for someone who sounds so pretty." You purred in encouragement. "Tell me what you want me to do for you, Ted."
This was torture. The best, most delicious torture in the world. And Ted was paying to go through it.
He watched as you shifted a bit out of view, moving back into the camera lens holding a veiny dildo in your hand. Like it was nothing. He'd seen you use one before, sure, but this wasn't her regular job of doing it for a group of strangers. This was all for him. You turned back around to face the camera, setting the toy up to show how deep it could go in you.
"More, less, or just right?" You asked.
Unable to form words and without thinking, Ted pulled loose the strings of his sweatpants before tugging them down his legs. He was showing you the answer and giving himself a bit of respite from the constraint of the fabric. There was a pleasant surprise on your face before you reached to get the toy that matched his... equipment better.
"This looks about right, huh?" You offered, slipping your panties to the side and running the tip of the toy through your folds.
He wrapped a hand around himself, staring wide-eyed with his lips parted as he pumped a hand over his cock in time with your movement over the toy.
Ted swore he started shaking when he heard the hiss of breath through your gritted teeth at the intrusion of the toy through your walls. How you'd sound taking him. How slow you had to start off with it. How your body would writhe and roll over his while you took a ride on his cock.
As terrified as he was for his reputation and making sure this never got out, this was worth every single goddamn penny Ted was paying for it. Never in his life did he cum that hard and he still felt infatuated in the hours after the call ended. You lived in his mind from that point on.
He was back again the next week, more comfortable than the first time. Watching his favorite camgirl take that same toy in her mouth as deep as she could. Ted got braver with making a few requests and letting out a little bit of dirty talk for you. He couldn't stop himself from falling deeper into this - you had him wrapped around her finger and didn't even know it.
#you walk around with no panties on just cause you know what it does to him. #how he asks for you to sit on his lap but you refuse. #he's so hard it's pushing against his sweats. #you bend over just to make him groan. #eventually you suck his dick because you can't refuse his pleas any longer. 💕
he reads a lot. mostly biographies and political theory — but when he's falling for someone, he starts scribbling private little notes in the margins of books he's currently reading. inside jokes. observations. faint “this reminds me of [them].”
he insists on making you breakfast, even if it’s just toast and black coffee, or even tea. it's less about the food and more about the ritual. mornings with ted are slow, wordless, comforting — the kind where he presses a kiss to your temple and hums under his breath as he cooks. coffee on the back porch as music plays from inside the house.
when he feels safe — truly safe, he slows down. he walks barefoot. he speaks more softly. he lingers in hugs. the kind of softness that says “I’m not in a rush to be anywhere but here.”
over time, his house shifts. your books end up on his shelves. his cufflinks just above your drawer. a photo of the two of you laughing at a wedding appears on the mantle. the place slowly becomes yours — without either of you having to say it out loud. he wants a part of you everywhere. at all times. small reminders.
after long days, the first thing he does is loosen his tie and unbutton his collar with a sigh that sounds like letting go. if you’re near, he leans into your touch without asking, resting his forehead to yours like you’re his reset button.
he is warm — gentle, romantic, protective — but he doesn’t offer that warmth easily. he hides it under layers of professionalism and distance. only those who prove they won’t misuse it ever get to see the full breadth of how deeply he can love.
if you’re cold, he’ll wrap you in his coat without saying anything. if you’re upset, he’ll make tea and sit beside you, not pressing, just being there. his love language is comfort — quiet, practical, and always sincere.
his favorite sweater is older than some of his staffers — soft from years of wear, sleeves a little frayed. his blankets are plush, his favorite mugs are chipped, and he always sleeps better under a too-heavy quilt.
at home he talks softly to himself. not full conversations — just little things. “alright, one more email.” “where did I put that damn folder?” “that’s better.” his voice is quieter when no one’s around, almost boyish. less guarded. more him. unless his son does something he isn't suppose to.
