hope I get a promotion...

⎚-⎚. Guess who's locked in the office, bestie.

𓄲 Kenfor, mid 20s, juggling a degree, couple hobbies and this blog. Also at @kenfortyone.

All the fics are my own.

Do not copy, translate or repost them on any platform.

Also, majority of my work is NSFW, THIS BLOG IS STRICTLY 18+, If I see an account without age in bio, interacting with any of my work, I will be blocking them.

𓄲 Folder 01

𓄲 Folder 02

𓄲 Folder 03 - arriving soon It's here actually.

Summer break is over and college has restarted, you know what that meansssssss

Existential crisis and day to day trauma.

Highkey my only solace in this trying times is that I'll graduate in late 2028 or early 2029 and it's alright mid 2026 and this time too shall pass, I do believe that I won't be remembering my college life very fondly mostly because I don't really like living in dormitory and I am also not a big fan of food in the cafeteria so it's just a lukewarm situation.

It's not entirely miserable but, it is quite lonely, I have people I hang out with, but no close friends, which is a pretty common thing, there are bunch of other people that I have talked to that are in similar situations, it's just there isn't a common ground to start any sort of friendship, it doesn't usually bother me but it does sometimes bother me.

Dinner, maybe?

Lars watches you pace in front of the garage, hand almost raising to knock on his door before you back away again, clad in just sweatpants and a shirt, which he knows, aren't doing against against the harsh cold.

You've been out for almost 10 minutes, first knocked on Karin and Gus's door, talking with Karin nervously before moving towards his house.

He is sure your mother put you up to it, making you invite all the neighbours for dinner, he understands the sentiment, he really does, but a small part of him hopes you leave without knocking on his door.

At least that way he has an excuse.

But, another slightly bigger part of him hopes you do knock on his door, invite him over, maybe he'll hand you his blanket, keeping you warm for the time being, going to your house later with a wrapped gift, preferably a shawl or a puffer similar to his own, keeping you warm forever—

He's just concerned for your well being, it's cold out there.

He watches you step away, nose scrunched and reddened, he knows the cold is nipping at your skin, you almost stumble over the logs of wood scattered around.

You walk away, defeated, unable to even bring yourself closer to his door, what would you even say, hey, lars want to come over for dinner? You aren't close enough to be that frank with him, all you have are multiple incidents of catching each other's eyes in the church, at the grocery store, sometimes at work, but that's it, you'd like to firmly believe that it's you looking at him, because of your little crush, but a small hope does bloom that maybe, just maybe he's hoping to catch your eyes too.

And then it's extinguished, because Lars doesn't like you, you can't like someone you never interacted with, it's unreasonable and unrealistic and utterly hopeless—

And suddenly the door behind you opens, loud and clanky, great the guy you've been crushing on caught you have existential crisis on his property.

"Hi." Lars called out, watching as your back tensed up, shoulders pulled together, fingers curling into a fist, "It's cold out here."

"Yeah—hi." You turn stiffly, barely managing to meet his eyes, even though that's all you've done in the past few months, "I was just—I was just going inside."

He nodded his head, pursing his lips together before unwrapping the gray blanket from around his neck and holding it out to you.

"Here, take this." He steps closer, boots digging into the soil, snow crunching under his weight, "it'll keep you warm."

You gently push back his hand, "I can't—I can't take this," your feel warmth seeping from the soft material, fingers itching to grab a hold of it, but you resisted, "you wear it often, I can't just—"

"Return it later." He tilts his head, plush cheek squishing against the collar of his puffer jacket, "I'll grab it after dinner?"

You reluctantly agreed, taking the blanket from his hands, your bare fingers brushing against his gloved ones, immediately wrapping it around yourself, "Thank you Lars, I really appreciate it."

You feel less nervous, more giddy, jittery as ever, eyes darting between his face and the surrounding, before realisation set in, "wait, how did you know about the dinner?"

Lars scrunched his nose, eyes screwed shut for a moment, head ducking down as he looked at his shoes before looking back up, "Your mum always invites us for dinner during holidays."

It comes out as a question, but you didn't question, nodding you head in his direction, "I'll go then, see you tonight, I guess."

He's thankful you don't, he doesn't think he'd be able to admit out loud that he does enjoy coming over to your house, enjoy watching you move around the kitchen, nervous bringing over everything your mother prepared, catching your eyes every once in a while across the table, occasionally getting the opportunity to listen to you talk about your interests, notice little habits, like you don't like peas, always scooping them out of your pot pies, don't like coriander unless it's on pasta, really like banana bread that Karin always insist on making for you, have an odd relationship with watermelon.

For now he bids you farewell and watches as you walked over to your house, wrapping his blanket tighter around your shoulders, maybe one day it'll be his arms too.

Afternoon nap.

All characters are adults 18+.MDNI.

you know bakugou is upto something.

eyeing him suspiciously as he moved around the house; it started with him doing the dishes immediately after lunch, before moving onto laundry, three different loads, he moved to the balcony, hanging them to dry.

most suspicious of all, he didn't join you during your afternoon lounging session, somehow resisting your figure sprawled on the couch, basking in the warm glow of the sunlight.

it's later in the afternoon, when your suspensions are confirmed.

"oi, babe," he whispered against the shell of your ear, hands splayed on your sides, his body almost laying flat over yours, "lift your hips up."

you groaned, lazily lifting your torso, letting him drag your underwear down the length of your legs, pocketing the garment for later.

"what are you upto, suki?" you mumbled, arms sluggishly wrapping around his shoulders, head tilting away to give him access to your neck.

"was good today," he muttered along the skin of your collarbones, pressing feather light kisses against the exposed skin, "thought I'd reward myself."

you let him, melting into the pillows, eyes closed, dozing in and out of sleep, let his hands wander over your body, let him map out your shape.

"I'll go get snacks, mmkay?" he pressed a sweet kiss against your mouth, unbothered as you grimace slightly at being disturbed, unbothered as parts of his lips press against your teeths instead of your lips.

you nod your head, expecting him to go the kitchen, fix himself a plate of orange slices and chocolates or some other abomination he's craving.

instead of leaving he crawls lower, half on the floor and half on the pillows you have laying around, arms curling under your thighs, pulling them over his shoulders.

oh. oh.

he's craving something salty, something tangy something that tastes like your skin, something musky—

"fuck—" he hissed, eyes widening as he looks at your glossy folds, glistening in sunlight, peeking through the thick coarse hairs, he'll never let you shave again—

you roll your hips, sleepy and horny, thighs locking his head in place whilst you tried to ground your core on his face.

"be good." you murmured against the pillow, hand languidly settling in his heads, pulling him closer.

"always am." he pouted, pressing kisses along your thighs, slobbering over the skin, before pressing against your heated core, tongue licking at your entrance, lapping up the slick.

you let out a low moan, let him take control, hand running through his hairs, petting the top of his head when he swirled his tongue on your clit just right.

bakugou breathed in your scent, tip of his nose nudged against your clit, tongue digging dip into your warm, sticky walls, hands tracing shapes on your skin.

you feel warmth pooling in your belly, walls spasming around his tongue, hand sneaking down to rub tight circles on your clit.

he groaned, messily lapping at your fingers, using his tongue to gather mixture of slick and spit to smear on your clit, your fingers gliding over the bud with ease.

it doesn't take long for you to cum, fingers pressed against your throbbing bud, walls tingling where he's probing his tongue.

you go limp on the pillows, thin layer of sweat covering your body, the thought of cleaning up lingering at the back of your mind.

"I'll clean you up." he murmured, grabbing your hand and licking your fingers clean, moaning around the digits, shameless and utterly horny.

you doze off again, feeling bakugou get comfortable between your thighs, enjoying his afternoon snack.

☕︎. Mr. Grace where does the coffee go?

☕︎ Pairing: Ryland Grace x Reader

Ryland Grace is not afraid of middle schoolers.

He has higher authority, it's his job to manage the children in class, to teach them, he can't be possibly afraid of them, now can he?

He can.

It's quiet in his class. Surprisingly.

It's quiet only when, either the kids are solving questions he handed out for class or when they are conspiring and with the subtle whispers and murmurs floating around along with occasional glances his way, he knows.

"Alright class!" He announced, clapping his hands together, gathering everyone's attention, "What's the topic of discussion?" He looked around, hoping someone, anyone would volunteer to talk, "Come on now, wouldn't you want a teacher's input in your little conversation?"

"Mr. Grace," Julie quipped from the back of class, hand raised as she stood up slowly, "after thorough observation and analysis, we've come to a inconclusive conclusion."

She finished her sentence monotonously, not bothering to further elaborate the said conclusion.

"We've?" Ryland gestured vaguely between himself and the rest of the class, trying to recall if there was something he was meant to observe, "Were we doing some kind of study, Julie can I get a quick recap of this?"

Before Julie could reply, another hand shot up, friendship bracelets jingling as Noah stood up, dramatically pulling a piece of paper from his notebook.

"Observation 01: Mr. Grace brings two cups of coffee from the cafe outside the school campus," he read nervously, looking around at the rest of the class, continuing once his peers nodded towards him, little hands giving him a thumbs up, "...everyday."

Ryland stared at him, lips parted, brows furrowed, confused as ever, "...ookk, I suppose we are judging my caffeine intake." He joked, laughing awkwardly before going quite.

"Inference 01," Julie continued again, heads turning towards her in a practised synchrony, "it takes 12 minutes to walk to the cafe from the school grounds, you arrive 32 minutes early to get them," She leans down scribbling on her notebook before holding it out to the class, '12+12=24, 24+8=32'.

"That's ha—that's basic maths if I remember correctly," Ryland is getting nervous, everyone in the class has an idea of what's going on, everyone but him, he hasn't seen the class this co-ordinating and co-operating in years, "I am not really understanding this, like at all, is this about last week's surprise test, I made it eas—"

"Each cup is 6 dollars," Avery interrupted him, hand shooting up after she already spoke, "that's a lot of money."

"Oookay, is this an economy assessment?" Ryland tries his best to decipher what the kids are upto, so far he feels like they think he isn't financially responsible, "and my coffee is 2.5 dollars actuall—"

"—exactly!" Avery interrupted him again, the chair screeching as it dragged against the tiles, "Inference 02: You purchase two cups of coffee, one plain black coffee and second a cold brew."

Ryland chuckled breathlessly, eyeing the class with suspicion and slight concern and even slighter fear, "Where are we really going with this kids?"

"Real question is," Avery continued, eye twitching as she stared ominously, "where does that second cup go?" She points towards the desk, the entire class turning towards the teacher's desk, spotting a paper cup with 'black coffee', scribbled on the side. "So, Mr. Grace would you like to add to something?"

Everyone stared at him in anticipation, hoping he'd break and give them something, but alas he was there teacher afterall.

"I could have drank it you kn—"

The entire class groaned in frustration.

"We put so much effort into the whole thing," Julie whined, cradling her head in her hands, hairs sticking out in different directions, "We need something juicy."

"You just didn't want another surprise test, did you?" Ryland huffed, cheeks tinting red as he reached for his coffee, vividly remembering where the other cup is, "Also whose teaching you terms like juicy."

"It's part of normal vocabulary, not all of us can pronounce scandalous," Riley explained, side eyeing few people she knows couldn't.

"Scandalous?!" Ryland exclaimed, nearly spitting out his coffee, clapping his hands together again, this time with more force, "First of all, we need to set boundaries, being overly curious about people's personal life isn't a good trait, one would even call you nosy," he scrunched his nose, watching as kids nodded their heads, "second of all, nothing scandalous happens in grover cleveland middle scho—"

The door to his class suddenly opened, interrupting him yet again, his words cut off as he stared at the figure peeking in.

"Hello." You whispered, grinning sheepishly, "hopefully I am not disturbing the class." You stepped in partly, bag hung on your shoulder, stack of papers tucked in your arm, an awfully familiar cup of coffee cradled in other, "You have a minute?"

Ryland stutters, "Yeah, alway—I mean sure, let's go—" he quickly shuffled out of the class, almost bumping into the tables on his way out.

The entire class watches him scramble to the door, clumsily stepping out and closing the door shut behind himself.

"So, you were teaching something?" You mumbled, swaying a little as you look over his shoulder to see little faces pressed up against the glass, the door of the classroom very slowly opening to let the sound in.

"Yeah, was teaching them...stuff," He shifted your back on his shoulder, hands fiddling with your papers only to smooth out non existent creases, "about science and boundaries and yeah."

"it's a bit difficult to teach middle schoolers about boundaries," You huffed, stepping closer to him, reaching out to fix his collar from where it was tucked beneath the strap of your bag, "mmh, my class found out my middle name and I get tormented by it every once in a while."

He chuckled, head tilting towards your hand, hoping you'd caress his skin as you did with his collar, that's creepy—

"You should get back to class, finish up that lecture," You mumbled, looking around to spot anyone else in the hallway, only finding his class still peering at you both, "I'll meet you after class, kay?"

He nodded his head, sheepishly returning your bag and papers, "Yeah, I'll get back to them." He stepped back, eyes still lingering on your frame.

"Ryland?" You called out, watching him stumble over back to you, wiping dust from he hands as he came to a stand, "I have something for you."

You shifted a little, angling yourself in a way, that his frame his you from his nosy class, pressing your palm against your lips and splaying it on his cheek, "You've got very nosy kids, Ryland."

Your giggles echoed in the empty hallway, leaving him malfunctioning, face flushed red as he stared at you disappearing into the staff room.

He slowly made his way back to the class, cheek tingling where you had pressed your palm.

His own palms are sweaty as he walked into the class, taking a moment to notice his students.

"Noah, weren't you seated in second row?" His brows furrowed as the little boy looked at him innocently, perched on the far end of the class, "and I am pretty sure Avery was on the first row, how did you get here?" Avery shrugged her shoulders, appearing as confused as he was.

He doesn't pay mind to the seat fiasco, still floating in clouds, already imagining evening with you, grading papers together, making dinner, maybe you'll K-I-S-S him—

"We have reached a conclusive conclusion, Mr. Grace." Julie announced, pulling him back down to earth, to the class and to the discussion you had interrupted, "Mr. Grace, you are dating Miss L/N—"

The class erupted in chaos, loud screeching and shouting, a sob of 'I have a chance?' echoing amidst the noise, Avery and Julie standing up from the respective seats and embracing each other while Noah proceeded to rip a page from his notebook, the entire class in utter shambles.

He really needs to teach them about boundaries.

Dodgeball? You can't dodge this xenonite ball, baby.

rocky uses echolocation and a much more complex system of hearing and comprehension.

it's fascinating at first, you spend hours sitting in the tunnel, head darting between the translator and the clear xenonite panel, your brain trying to understand how his works and vice versa.

it does get a little more humiliating when he moves in with you.

in a way neither of you expected.

you were scanning through the reports on the engine, ensuring the ship wouldn't discombobulate upon entering the planets atmosphere, when you felt a presence beside you.

ryland shuffled closer, looking at all the equipments you had littered around, before his eyes landed on you, softening instantly.

"hi." he whispered, looking over his shoulder to where rocky worked on decoding how you welded metal together, lost in bliss with his own earth's thinking machine.

"hello, dr. grace, what can I do for you?" You hummed, cheekily wrapping your arms around his torso, eyes twinkling with mirth as you stood on your toes to reach his lips, barely managing to press your lips against the corner of his mouth.

he leaned down, lips ghosting over yours, pulling back every time you tried to lean closer.

you huffed a breath, pushing against his chest, trying to step back to your work station when he grasped your arm, locking you against himself.

"was thinking about getting..." he pouted, trying to think of a word that didn't seem too crude, "...refreshments."

you snorted, leaning you head against his chest, breathing in his scent, "putting that scientific vocabulary to use." gently pulling him towards the sleeping area.

you try to be quite, sock clad feet padding against the floor, hoping to get away withou—

"grace. mate. sleep now, question." it's impossible to sneak past him, especially when he turns to look(?) at you both, you feel like being caught red handed, which you were in a way, "rocky watch. rocky must watch, statement."

loud clanking of the xenonite ball echoed before either of you could stop him.

"wait rock, we aren't sleeping."

you bite your lip, pulling your hands away from ryland's torso, awkwardly shuffling away from him, opting to stand closer to the door.

"why go to bedroom if no sleep?" suspicion evident in his tone despite being computarized, "do what in bedroom, question."

ryland coughed, looking over to you for help, only to have you darting your head around avoiding his eyes, "good question—excellent question, rocky." he managed to wheeze out, helplessly rubbing the side of his temple.

"we just—"

"we are just doing a medical check up," you quipped, ending his misery, reaching out to grasp his wrist, "it's usually done privately."

"will armando watch, question." rocky asked, tapping impatiently against his xenonite ball.

"not really, we do this one...," you looked at ryland, eyes drifting from his flushed face to his heaving chest, "...clinically."

"...ok." rocky knows you are not telling the entire truth, but he relents, ryland does look like he needs a medical check up anyways.

you return back to the central area, a little disheveled, a little disoriented but vastly satiated, it's easy for you to instantly get back to work, looking through original blueprints of the ship.

the silence lingering between you three is awkward, ryland perched beside your desk, rocky seeming to peer at you both over the screen of his thinking machine.

it was only a matter of time before he spoke and spoke did he.

"rocky heard thumping." as if the statement in itself wasn't embarassing enough, he proceeds to slam his fist against the ground in a oddly familiar rhythm, "what role of thumping in clinical examination, question."

ryland ducks his head and proceeds to leave the lab, ready scrambled out of the situation, "I don't think I can do thi—" he's halfway through the door when he hears you speak.

"well, when a man and a woma—"

"actually I'll do this." he stumbles back in, tripping over a pile of glass panels, almost knocking his head against the table, "I can't—"

"it's mating behaviour." you huffed, watching ryland nearly burst a vessel, face red and a thick prominent vein running along his forehead.

before you could elaborate further, rocky spoke again, "that's it, question."

you nodded your head, curious as to what he had to say.

"just say then, statement." he sounded almost exasperated, sassily rolling his ball back to the work station.

"aren't you gonna—i don't know, question further?" ryland asked, proceeding to lay down on the floor of your lab.

"rocky 291 years old and a parent, statement." tossing a prototype your way he continued, "rocky knows everything there is to know, statement."

neither you or ryland probed him further, afterall no one wanted to here 'the talk' from an advanced civilization light years away from earth.

Drabbles

⤷ Note 01: Lars Lindstrom

｡ So, you don't get lost.

｡ Dinner, maybe?

⤷ Note 02: Ryland Grace

｡ Dodgeball? You can't dodge this xenonite ball, baby.

Oneshots

⤷ Note 02: Ryland Grace

So, you don't get lost.

you knew being with lars would be different, dating him didn't magically negate his preferences to touch.

it didn't bother you, doesn't bother you at all, you like him, a lot, time with him is a blessing on its own.

but you did wish you could hold his hand every once in a while, especially in crowded areas, when you find it a little difficult to match your stride with his, almost getting swept away.

or maybe during walks in the park, cold air nipping at your skin, tip of your nose red and numb, fingers itching to clasp around his.

"my brother and I used to play there," he muttered, head ducking towards you, his cheeks plush and rosy, soft smile lingering on his lips, "sometimes we'd stay here for hours."

you nodded your head, looking at the broken tree house, worn with age, trying to imagine little lars and gus running around in circles, playing games fighting and making up.

"gus told me you use to hide a lot," you leaned closer, eyes meeting his for a brief moment before you looked away, giving him space again, "make him look for you all the time."

he grinned sheepishly, fiddling with his gloves, eyes darting around the empty park, "he was bad at seeking me."

there is an underlying sadness in his words, you reached for him, hand hovering by his arm, "he did find you eventually though."

"karin says wishes get answered here." he mumbled, eyes closing momentarily as he breathed in the cold air, warm puff of air surrounding him like a halo when he breathed out.

"Is that so?"

he nodded his head, before gesturing towards the lake, "do you want to go for a walk?" he pulled one of his gloves off, tucking it into his pocket, "you don't have to—"

"I'll go." a part of you want to tease him, another wants to savour the moment, "I'll always go, lars."

you wait for him to turn, guide you to the lakeside, when he surprises you, bare hand held out, before he snatched it back, quickly wiping his palm against his pants and holding it out again.

"so, you don't get lost," he spluttered, scrunching his nose slightly in discomfort but he persevered, adding, "accidentally, i wouldn't let you."

you pull you gloves off, sliding your hand into his, fingers cold against his much warmer palm despite being cradled in your gloves longer.

you suppose, some wishes do get answered here.