Hey That's Mean :(( I Have Lactose Intolerance And I Feel Offended :(( /lh

Hey that's mean :(( I have lactose intolerance and I feel offended :(( /lh

EVIL fanfic idea- lactose intolerant! Ted

homosexual homeownership (1/2)

charlie slimecicle x male!reader (reference to reader having a dick, use of the word “sir,” and some more smaller things)

mild nsfw, no porn but plenty of horniness

contains swearing

sorry this took so long, i hope you like it :]

You should be very proud of yourself. Only 28, and already a proud homeowner, with a white picket fence and everything. Sure, you lacked a nuclear family, but considering your distaste for children and preference for men over women, you’d known better than to hope for anything similar.

Yes, it could be a little lonely sometimes, but that’s why you had your work, and your saltwater fish tank, and your cat, Mortimer. And, of course, your beloved lawn.

Nothing pleased you more than the smell of freshly cut grass, the stripes of green leading from your house to the fence and back, the sprinklers refreshing each blade during periods without rain.

Your friends from the city often teased you about your almost erotic joy, calling you an old man. They even gave you a sign that read “KEEP OFF GRASS,” as if you’d chase off any whippersnappers that dare set foot on it.

It was with these same friends that you’d gotten drunk with that night in late June, the ones who rushed to your side the moment you hit the ground after you fell off the skateboard, and the ones that rode with you to the emergency room. They apologized again and again, even though it had been your idea to begin with, and promised to help you with anything you needed while you healed.

Anything except mowing your lawn this weekend, apparently. You cursed their names when you realized you’d have to confront the elephant in the room, or rather, next door. Charlie.

Always kind to you, always offering help or friendship, and always annoyingly handsome. Unfortunately, he just happened to be one of those people you had to avoid. Your gut told you so. But you were running out of options, and he was just a house away, so you knocked on his door. Thankfully, he accepted your offer of $30 each time he worked for you, and you planned for the following Sunday morning.

He showed up at your door ten minutes late, in a muscle tank that did nothing if not piss you off. The way it displayed his biceps was infuriating.

“Morning! How are you? How’s the ankle?”

“Fine and fine, thank you Charles. Yourself?”

“I’m good! You can call me Charlie, though. Everyone does.”

“Okay then, Charlie…” It felt overly friendly, uncomfortable. You would rather just call him Charles, but it wouldn’t be very polite to ignore his wishes. “Let me show you where the mower is. This way, please.”

A more hospitable host would have offered him something to eat or drink before putting him to work, but something inside you was getting a little too excited. Your palms were sweaty as they gripped your crutches, and every time you glanced back to see if he was following, that feeling squirmed in your chest, and you heard blood rush in your ears. You needed to get him out of your sight, fast.

“Here she- um, it, is. Durable and easy to use. You shouldn’t have any problems.”

“Gotcha. You want front and back, right?”

“Yes, and please be very thorough from the back. Wi- with the back, sorry. Um. There’s a lot of dandelions that need to be cut.”

“Of course, I’ll be very thorough,” he chuckled. “Anything else?”

“I believe that’s all. The back door will be open, come- come in if you need anything.” God, stop stuttering.

With that, Charlie pulled the mower out of the garage and set out working on the front yard.

You tried passing time by any means possible. You had even broken your strict work-life balance and checked your email on a weekend. But eventually you had to peek out the window.

The front was immaculate, done in pretty straight lines just the way you liked. You hadn’t even told him that, as you were trying not to be difficult, but it seemed he read your mind. And your heart definitely wasn't fluttering over that.

You started heading towards the back to look through the glass door, and as soon as it was in view, you stopped dead in your tracks.

He was taking off his shirt.

Your mind was flooded with all the thoughts and feelings you had been trying to hold back. Sweat was dripping off Charlie’s glistening skin, his muscles practically begging to be touched, caressed, licked, bitten. His expression was not helping either, lips agape, eyes closed as he took a breath. All of it was too much to ignore any longer, combined with the embarrassing fact that it had been two years since your last night with a man. Finally, you allowed yourself to gaze at him with desperate lust, your cock beginning to harden.

And, of course, that’s when he started heading towards you.

A yelp escaped your throat. You clumsily scrambled away from the door and around the closest corner, crutches clicking against the hardwood floor.

Safely hidden, you reassessed your situation. You were staring at your neighbor, who you hired to mow your lawn, while he was shirtless, because you are a pathetic gay incel. And don’t forget the bonus points for pathetically running away from him when you were almost caught. Was there anything else you could screw up today? God, why couldn’t you have asked another neighbor? This never would have happened if you’d just asked that older guy from down the street. Oh, fuck, Charlie was your next door neighbor. If you embarrass yourself in front of him, you have to see him at least once a week for the rest of your life, or until one of you moved, and looking at the state of the housing market, that wouldn’t happen for quite a while, if ever. Not to mention, since you were paying him, were you technically his employer? Was this workplace harassment? God, you are so fu—

“Hello? Sir, are you here? I need your help with something, if you don’t mind?”

Swallowing your nerves (and whatever was stirred up with the word “sir”), you put on a neutral face and, as naturally as possible, ambled back to where his voice was coming from.

“Yes, um, Charlie?” Don’t stare at his chest don’t stare at his chest don’t stare…

“Yeah, so it’s getting pretty hot and sunny out there, so I can’t really work comfortably with my shirt on, but I forgot to put on sunscreen this morning? I wasn’t expecting it to get hot so fast. Do you have any I could use, please?”

“O-of course. Just a second.” Getting up and down stairs was rather time consuming, but you rushed through it as quickly and safely as possible. “Here, use as much as you need.”

“Thanks! I really appreciate it.” Damn, that smile could warm the heart of Putin.

You desperately avoided looking at him, to the best of your ability, as he smoothed the cream into his sculpted body.

“Sorry, um, could you get my back please?”

Oh my god, kill me now. “Sure, no problem.”

He turned around, and, fuck, you always had a thing for muscular backs.

All you had to do was calmly rub the sunscreen onto his back. Ensure it covers his skin enough to prevent burns, but don’t be too dedicated. At least from this angle it was easier to hide your hard-on.

His skin was warm and damp, smooth and soft, carrying that addicting man-smell, natural and a bit sweet, with occasional sharp notes of Old Spice deodorant. This guy was a walking drug for you, an intoxicating mix of pleasure and pain. This was either your personal heaven, or hell— you couldn’t tell which.

“Thanks, sir, I think that’s good.”

“Great, um, good. Okay. Let me know if you need anything else. Like water. It’s hot out there, do you need some water?”

“That would be perfect, actually, thank you!”

You sat at the kitchen table with him as he drank his glass, unsure of what else to do. “You seem a bit nervous, sir, are you okay?”

“Me? Perfectly fine, I’m sorry, I’m just not used to company.”

“Right, you live here alone, huh? How’d you manage that?”

“It was an inheritance, actually, from my grandmother a few years ago.”

“Oh, I’m sorry about your grandmother. Were you close?”

“Very. But, I mean, it’s okay. The house reminds me of her.” You smiled, allowing your memories to calm you down. “Sometimes I can still smell her perfume. It’s like she’s visiting me.”

“That’s sweet. You’re lucky you had such a good relationship with her.”

“I am. What about you, how did you end up a homeowner?”

“Oh, I’m not,” he said in that adorable half-laughing voice. “I’m just renting. But my landlord said she might sell it at some point, and she’d give me a discount if I was interested.”

“Ah. Are you? Interested, I mean?”

“I am, I guess. It’s a nice house, probably nicer than what I could afford to pay full price for. And, you know, the neighbors are nice.“ His little smile made his dimples show. You couldn’t help but smile, too.

“Hah, well, I don’t know. I’ve heard they can be pretty anal about their lawns.”

“Nahhh, they’re just proud of their homes, and want them to look pretty. I get it, and I don’t mind helping a neighbor in need with a lawn in disarray.”

“Well, thank you. I know this isn’t a small favor.”

“No problem at all. I could always use a little extra cash, and someone to talk to.”

The glass he was sipping at was, unfortunately, empty. “I guess I better get back at it…”

“Yes, don’t let me keep you, sorry.”

His eyes met yours as he stood up. “You know, if you wanted to keep an eye on things, I wouldn’t be insulted or anything. I could bring a chair onto the deck for you.”

“I don’t know…” He was offering to let you watch him mow? To do nothing but stare at his half-clothed body? Was he…? No, nevermind, couldn’t be.

Despite your answer, Charlie was already carrying a chair out for you, lifting it like it was nothing to him. “It’s fine! Come on out, the fresh air is great.”

You begrudgingly followed his instructions. He took your crutches and propped them up against the side of the house, close enough for you to reach if you needed to.

And there you sat, watching your handsome neighbor mow your lawn, turning it from a dandelion breeding ground into manicured, beautiful, trimmed green grass. Was there anything more attractive than a man with a talent for yardwork?

Hey That's Mean :(( I Have Lactose Intolerance And I Feel Offended :(( /lh

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