Warnings: Slow-burn tension, heavy flirting, power outage intimacy, denial vs. desire, best-friend meddling, light jealousy/possessiveness, no explicit smut. Themes of reluctant attraction and the pull of temptation without resolution.
Part one, Part two, Part three, Part four
Pairing: Jungkook x Reader
Summary: After storming out into the blizzard, she tries to reset alone in her dorm. Jungkook, restless at Mingyu’s, can’t resist showing up uninvited. What starts as teasing texts and a snowy trek turns into a charged evening of shared space, banter, and near-misses—until the lights go out and reality intrudes.
The walk back to campus took her a full thirty minutes, maybe more. Snow clung to her boots and leggings, soaking through in icy patches that made every step a misery. By the time the dorm building’s lights finally appeared through the whiteout, she was shivering, cheeks raw from the wind, hoodie hood pulled tight but useless against the driving flakes.
She cursed under her breath the entire way, each muttered word a small rebellion against the ache in her thighs and the phantom press of tattoos under her fingertips. What were you thinking? The question looped endlessly. She wasn’t thinking. That was the problem. Jungkook had this way of short-circuiting her brain—blinding, stupid, sexual awakening wrapped in arrogance and ink. She despised him. She really did. Or at least she was supposed to.
The key turned in the lock with a metallic scrape. She shoved the door open, kicked it shut behind her, and immediately flipped the heater to max. The curtains swished closed, blocking out the relentless white. Her dorm felt like a sanctuary: small, familiar, safe from smirks and wandering hands.
A long, scalding shower was the only fix. She peeled off the borrowed hoodie and leggings, wincing at the fresh marks across her skin, and stepped under the spray until the steam filled the tiny bathroom and her fingers pruned. It helped. A little. But the thoughts wouldn’t stop. The way he’d looked at her that morning, unbothered and amused even after she’d shoved him onto the floor. The low rumble of his laugh. The heat of his arm across her waist in sleep.
Stop. She scrubbed harder. This wasn’t her. She was the library girl. The one with color-coded notes and zero tolerance for chaos. Not whatever mess she became around him.
Across town at Mingyu’s place, breakfast had turned into a prolonged affair. Jungkook sat at the kitchen island, nursing coffee while Mina and Mingyu moved around each other like magnets—brushing arms, stealing quick kisses over the pancake stack. It was nauseating. Or maybe it just highlighted the empty spot where she should have been.
He was a little hurt. Not that he’d admit it out loud. Ego bruised, probably, especially with his best friend watching her bolt like he had the plague. Or maybe it was something else. Ironic, really. Jeon Jungkook, the guy who never chased, sitting here replaying her slammed door.
Mina slid a plate his way, eyebrows raised. “You’re quiet. That’s new.”
Jungkook shrugged, forking a bite of pancake. “Just tired. Late night.”
Mingyu snorted. “We all had a late night.”
Mina waited until Mingyu stepped away to grab syrup before leaning in. “Okay, spill. What’s actually going on with you and her? She told me you’ve hooked up a few times, but… this feels different. You don’t usually circle back to the same girl.”
Jungkook set his fork down, leaning back with that signature half-smirk. “What’s she told you exactly?”
Mina crossed her arms. “Just the highlights. Party. Study group. Christmas party. She’s convinced it’s all a mistake every single time.”
“Sounds about right.” He ran a hand through his hair. “It’s not planned. She’s around, it happens. Simple as that.”
Mina studied him, unconvinced. “You’ve got a reputation, Kook. Hookups, no repeats, no strings. Yet here you are, still thinking about her the morning after she literally shoved you out of bed. What gives?”
He shrugged again, more forcefully this time. “She’s… different. Likes the chase, I guess. Keeps things interesting.” The words felt half-true, half-defensive. He wasn’t about to unpack whatever this was over pancakes.
Mina opened her mouth for more, but Jungkook stood abruptly. “Gonna shower. Maybe crash in one of the rooms after. Thanks for breakfast.”
He disappeared down the hall before she could press. Odd, Mina thought. Very odd.
In the bathroom, steam rising around him under Mingyu’s borrowed clothes waiting on the counter, Jungkook let the hot water beat on his shoulders. Don’t overthink it. He could sleep with anyone. Campus was full of options. But none of them fought him like she did—rejecting him one minute, pulling him closer the next. No girl had ever made the chase this addictive. He shook the thought off, toweling dry and changing. Lounging in the guest room afterward, scrolling Instagram, felt pointless. The feed blurred. Snow kept falling outside, thick and steady.
By evening, the storm had eased into a pristine white blanket. The world outside looked frozen in place.
She’d been deep in her series for hours, curled on her bed with the heater humming and a blanket over her legs. The plot had finally pulled her in, a welcome distraction from the morning’s chaos. Her phone dinged once. She ignored it. Dinged again.
She picked it up against her better judgment.
Jungkook: Bored out of my mind over here. What are you up to, dollface? Still running?
She rolled her eyes, thumbs hovering. Don’t engage. But she did.
Her: Trying to enjoy my peace and quiet. Go bother someone else.
Jungkook: No one else is as fun to bother. Snow’s letting up. I could come keep you company. Wouldn’t want you alone in the dark if the power goes.
She laughed despite herself—a short, disbelieving sound. He was bluffing. Had to be.
Her: You won’t show up. You don’t even know my dorm number. Nice try.
Jungkook: Watch me. Be there soon.
Thirty minutes later, a sharp knock echoed through her room. She froze on the bed, heart lurching. No way. She padded to the door, peeking through the peephole. There he was—hood up, covered in fresh snow, cheeks flushed from the cold, that smirk visible even through the distorted glass.
She cracked the door an inch. “You’re crazy. Actually insane. How did you even find my building?”
Jungkook leaned against the frame, snowflakes melting in his dark hair. “Campus isn’t that big. Asked around. Plus, I’m motivated. It’s freezing out here, princess. Let me in before I turn into an icicle.”
She narrowed her eyes. “You walked all the way here? In that?”
“Worth it if you open the door wider.” He shivered dramatically, teeth chattering in an exaggerated way that was clearly fake but annoyingly effective. “Come on. I’m covered in snow. Practically a snowman. You’re not that heartless.”
She wasn’t a monster. With a heavy sigh, she stepped back. “Fine. But only because I don’t want your death on my conscience. Take your shoes off. And stay by the door until you stop dripping.”
He grinned, stepping inside and kicking off his boots. Snow scattered across her floor mat. He peeled off his hoodie next, revealing a simple black t-shirt underneath that clung slightly from the melt. “Thanks, dollface. Heater feels amazing already.”
She busied herself turning the heater up another notch, then grabbed a spare towel from her closet. “Here. Dry your hair before you soak everything.” She tossed it at his chest. “And keep your voice down—Mina’s side is off-limits. She’s still at Mingyu’s, I think.”
Jungkook caught the towel one-handed, rubbing it over his head messily. “Bossy as always. What are you watching? Looks intense.”
She hesitated, then gestured to the laptop. “Some series. You wouldn’t like it. Too much plot, not enough chaos.”
“Try me.” He dropped onto the edge of her bed like he belonged there, towel draped around his neck. “Make some tea or something? I’m still thawing.”
She shot him a glare but moved to the small electric kettle anyway. “You’re unbelievable. Showing up like this. What if I had plans?”
“You didn’t.” He watched her fill the kettle, that lazy smirk returning. “Admit it—you were bored too. All alone in the storm, thinking about how warm it was this morning before you kicked me out.”
“Stop.” She pointed a mug at him. “No talking about this morning. Or last night. Or any of it. Tea’s coming. Then you sit over there.” She indicated the desk chair, putting deliberate space between the bed and everything else.
He accepted the steaming mug a minute later, fingers brushing hers on purpose. “Yes, ma’am. So, tell me about this show. What’s it about?”
She settled back on the bed, leaving a clear gap, and hit play on the paused episode. “It’s about these people unraveling family secrets in a small town. Twisty, quiet tension. You talk through it and I’ll kick you out into the snow again.”
Jungkook chuckled, sipping the tea. “Quiet tension. Sounds familiar.”
They watched for a while. Or rather, she watched. He mostly watched her— the way she leaned forward during key scenes, how her brow furrowed in concentration, the small smile when something clicked. The room felt smaller with him in it, his cologne mixing with the tea steam and the heater’s dry warmth.
Half an episode in, he shifted closer under the guise of seeing the screen better. “This part’s good,” she murmured, explaining a plot thread without thinking. “See how they’re building the unreliable narrator?”
“Mm-hmm.” His voice was low. His knee brushed hers. “You’re really into this, huh?”
She turned to respond and found him closer than expected. Their eyes met. The air thickened. He leaned in slowly, giving her every chance to pull away. She didn’t.
The kiss started soft—testing. Then hungrier. His hand cupped the back of her neck, thumb stroking lightly. She kissed him back, fingers twisting in his t-shirt, the laptop forgotten on the bed. It deepened quickly, handsy and urgent: his palm sliding down her side, hers gripping his shoulder. He tasted like tea and snow-melt, warm against the lingering chill.
A low sound escaped him as he pulled her closer, half on his lap now. “Been wanting to do that since I got here,” he murmured against her lips between kisses.
“Shut up,” she breathed, but there was no real heat in it. Another kiss, slower, his fingers tracing her jaw, then lower to her collarbone where faint marks still lingered.
The lights flickered once. Then everything went black.
The heater whirred down. The laptop screen died mid-scene. Only the faint glow from her phone on the nightstand remained.
“Great,” she muttered, pulling back and scrambling for her phone’s flashlight. “Power outage. Perfect timing.”
Jungkook laughed softly in the dark, the sound close. “Or perfect mood lighting. Candles would make this even better, don’t you think?”
She glared in his general direction, though he probably couldn’t see it fully. “There is no mood. We were watching a show. That’s it.” She stood, navigating to her desk drawer by phone light. “I have some candles somewhere. Emergency stash.”
He followed her movements, voice teasing. “Sure. Just watching. That’s why you were—”
Her phone rang, cutting him off. The screen lit up: Mina.
She shot him a look, finger to her lips. “Quiet,” she whispered fiercely before answering. “Hey, Mina.”
Jungkook stayed silent, but she could feel his grin in the dark.
Mina’s voice came through, concerned. “Girl, did your power go out too? It’s the whole campus block, I think. You okay over there? Lights are dead here at Mingyu’s too, but we’ve got the fireplace going. Want me to head back? I can bundle up and trek over so you’re not alone.”
She glanced toward Jungkook’s shadowy form. He was leaning against the wall now, arms crossed, clearly listening. “No, I’m fine. Really. I’ve got candles and the heater was on long enough that it’s still warm. Stay there. With Mingyu.. stay.”
Mina paused. “You sure? You sound a little… off.”
“Positive. Enjoy the fire. I’ll text if anything changes.” She hung up quickly, exhaling.
Jungkook’s voice floated over. “Really heavy on the stay, huh? Protecting my secret, princess?”
She lit the first candle, its flame casting flickering gold across the room. “Don’t get cocky. You’re still leaving as soon as the power’s back or the snow lets up more.”
He stepped closer, the candlelight sharpening the lines of his face and the curve of that smirk. “Whatever you say, dollface. But we’ve got time. Show’s paused. Tea’s cold. What now?”
She set another candle on the desk, heart still racing from the kiss, from the call, from everything. The snow outside kept falling softly, sealing them in for the night.
For now, that was enough. Or at least, that’s what she told herself as she handed him another candle, their fingers brushing again in the warm glow.
Author’s note: I’ve decided to make this the last part of the series! I don’t have much motivation to continue writing this series so it’s kinda base on your imagination how they end! Well I can say they do end up together.
