JUNGKOOK 2023 Calvin Klein Fall Campaign

JUNGKOOK 2023 calvin klein fall campaign

Never forget that you are my best friend ♡

peach parfait I | ksj

⏤ 𝚜 𝚞 𝚖 𝚖 𝚊 𝚛 𝚢 : you and seokjin have always been at odds as the top two chefs at big hit academy of culinary arts. enemies to lovers au

⏤ 𝚙 𝚊 𝚒 𝚛 𝚒 𝚗 𝚐 : seokjin x reader

⏤ 𝚐 𝚎 𝚗 𝚛 𝚎 : fluff, smut, slight? angst

⏤ 𝚠 𝚘 𝚛 𝚍 𝚌 𝚘 𝚞 𝚗 𝚝 : 19k

⏤ 𝚠 𝚊 𝚛 𝚗 𝚒 𝚗 𝚐 𝚜 : female solo masturbation, slight nipple play, sex toys - ring vibrator

⏤ 𝚊 / 𝚗 : hello demons!!!!!! welcome to my first ever ksj au!!! it finally happened wow,,,, honestly this wasn’t supposed to be this long but here we are,,,, 19k in on the first part whoops. there will be a second part out [hopefully soon, i already have about 8k of it written] but until then, i hope you enjoy this! // lowkey this was inspired by shokugeki no soma skfjak

⏤ Part I | Part II ⇥ complete

“Kim Seokjin, a perfect 100!” Head Chef Hobeom called out.

Your entire body stiffened as if you had just been drenched in ice-cold water. You could feel the tell-tale scowl already forming on your face, your features twisting in annoyance as you took in the sight of Kim Seokjin’s smug face. His dark, slightly wavy locks fell loosely around his stupid forehead and he was dressed casually, in a plain white t-shirt, further accentuating his unnecessarily broad shoulders. Light wash jeans hung low on his hips, the material of the denim tugging around his ridiculously toned thighs. Not that you were admiring him. No. You would never admire your greatest rival. Which is exactly what he was. Your gaze fell back to his face, his nose slightly scrunched, luscious lips pulled into a half-smirk and eyes shining with mirth.

That smug bastard.

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Act On It

Summary: You learn that the cute barista you’ve been crushing on might have an…otherworldly disposition after you accidentally cut yourself.

A college, coffee shop, and vampire AU all in one!

Pairing: Yoongi x Reader

Genre: Fluff, Angst, Smut, and anything in between

Word Count: 15,639

A/N: This is the longest oneshot I’ve ever written. I found this vampire!yoongi fic sitting in my WIPS back at the start of the year. I did my best to pick it up and rewrite the story into something interesting.

Hopefully you guys like it.

In your opinion, college is a fairly safe space. You go to classes, get along well with friends, enjoy sitting near the pond in the middle of your campus when the weather is nice. There are rarely any crimes—and when there are, it’s a stolen bike, a petty fight, or an…“attack”.

But! Attacks are rare.

Hell, sometimes they aren’t even acknowledged. Not everyone chooses to believe in folklore—that vampires are real and walking among us.

Some people are disbelievers because they’re too scared to give into the reality that every day they might be around someone who could pin them down and steal their blood in a split second. Others just…think it’s a hoax—the few and far between vampire attacks, that is.

“Those people just want attention. They can fake fang marks like that with special effects make-up.”

Society seems to be torn on their existence—just as some people refute the existence of ghosts or spirits, or even god and higher powers. You for one—well…you believe. At a younger age, in an event you’ll never forget—you had fallen off a swing at the park and gouged open your knee on the turf. In what seemed like a flash a shadow had appeared above you—a man looking to be in his late 20’s to early 30’s. When you glanced up he had knelt down—his eyes meeting your curious and slightly frightened stare. His eyes were crimson, and it had seemed as if his irises were pulsing with….with…

“You need to be more careful,” he had told you, his Adam’s apple bobbing heavily against his throat. He hadn’t bothered to help you up, instead stepping back— fingers trembling near his sides. “You can’t afford to get hurt around others if you keep smelling like that.”

And then he was gone. But despite his disappearance, his words stuck with you—lingered in the back of your mind for days—weeks, even.

What do I smell like? You had wondered, but had never bothered to search for the answer. Anytime you pondered potentially pricking your finger or making a harmless little cut, immediately those crimson eyes popped into your mind, and you found yourself weak at the knees—unable to follow through.

Years later, you’ve nearly forgotten about that man at the park—those deep red eyes and resounding words. You’re a college student—you’ve got papers to write, tests to take, applications to fill out—you don’t have time to worry about things such as ghosts, or higher powers, or vampires. As if. The only thing on your mind is class and the coffee you get every morning to help you through the day.

Also the cute, yet bored faced barista at the campus coffee shop you seem to face nearly 7 days a week, regardless of the time you leave to get your coffee. He’s charming in his own right—dark hair, styled a little lazily, and dressed in casual clothing that perfectly accentuates his body. He’s minimal effort good-looking, and you can’t believe how much you’re attracted to him sometimes.

“Morning,” you greet with a smile when you step up to the register, the line advancing forward. He doesn’t bother to look up, already hitting buttons on the screen in front of him and reaching to grab a cup to write your name on.

“Usual, right?” he asks in a low voice, sounding groggy, and you stare at the top of his head as he bends to grab a marker that had fallen on the floor.

“Tired?” you respond instead. He grunts.

“Long night.”

You hum in understanding as you watch him press the marker to the cup, however, instead of writing your name, with sloppy handwriting he ends up scribbling his own, and you break into a fit of giggles.

Cocking an eyebrow, the male glances up at you.

“Wow, suddenly our names are quite similar,” you say, pointing at the cup, and when he sees the permanent black Yoongi written he curses.

“Fuck, I’ll get you a new one–,” he begins apologetically, but you cut him off.

“No! It’s ok, it’s just a cup and you already know me, so it’s no big deal,” you laugh, smiling at him. He pauses.

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah, just draw a little heart next to it to make it cute and I think I’ll be fine,” you tease, and while Yoongi rolls his eyes, he can’t help the small smirk that comes to his face.

“I make no promises with that heart. Go ahead and swipe your card.”

Nodding, you do, and once the charge goes through you walk to the other end of the counter to wait, knowing by now that Yoongi will simply take your receipt and throw it away, since neither of you want it.

As you wait for your drink to be made, you pull your phone out and scroll through your twitter feed, trying to catch up on all the latest news and gossip before you run off to class. However, your finger only manages to swipe upward a few times before there’s a gasp behind you, and you turn to find a girl staring in horror at her phone which has just landed face down on the tile floor.

“Oh no,” you say, highly sympathetic as you squat down and gently pick the phone up since she’s clearly too petrified to do it herself. You peek at it, tilting the screen your way, and the hiss that escapes your lips is enough to let the girl know that she’ll be needing a new phone sometime soon.

“Shit, the glass,” you mumble as you return the phone to her, managing to mirror her thankful, albeit disappointed smile. She says that she’ll clean the glass up since it was her fault, but you tell her that you’ve got it, and reach over to grab a napkin.

“Don’t touch it, Y/N. We’ll clean it up,” you hear Yoongi’s voice command from the background, almost warning you to not do anything stupid, but you wave him off. You’ll be fine, it’s just a little glass.

So, putting the napkin next to the tiny shards, you gently use the side of your hand to brush the pieces onto the napkin. In the background Yoongi calls your name to get your drink, and then immediately sighs when he sees you bent down, trying to macgyver glass onto a napkin like a cave man.

“You’re dumb,” he grumbles as you stand up, turning to face him with the napkin full of glass in your palm.

“Hey, it worked didn’t it?” you grin triumphantly, but just as you transfer the napkin to Yoongi to be disposed of, a piece of glass tears through the thin layers of paper and scrapes your skin.

“Ow, fuck,” you curse, examining the damage as Yoongi hurriedly takes the glass from you and tosses it into the waste bin. You hold your palm out, fingers lightly pressing at the cut—red seeping at the edges—but before you can move to find something to clean yourself up, Yoongi’s hands are embracing your hurt one.

“Yoongi?” you say in surprise, watching as his thumbs brush against your palm, pressing down slightly on either side of the scrape. At the action more blood appears, and you glance up at him in shock.

“Yoongi…?”

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