BTS Oneshot ( Book 1 )

A Light that Went Out ( BTS x Jungkook )

Jungkook had always been the brightest spark in their lives, the one who could turn even the darkest days into moments filled with laughter. It didn’t matter that they weren’t related by blood—he was their youngest brother, their happiness, their light.

“Hyung, look at this!” Jungkook’s excited voice filled the living room as he showed Namjoon something on his phone. Namjoon glanced up from his book, already smiling before he even saw what Jungkook was so excited about.

“What is it, Kook?” Namjoon asked, leaning over to get a closer look.

Jungkook’s face was beaming, eyes wide with childlike joy. “It’s a new game! I bet I can beat you at it.”

Namjoon chuckled. “You think you can beat me at everything, don’t you?”

“Because I can!” Jungkook shot back, puffing his chest out playfully.

Across the room, Seokjin was busy preparing dinner, but he couldn’t help but smile at the banter between the two. Jungkook always had a way of bringing out the soft side in everyone, especially Namjoon, who could be so serious most of the time.

“You should focus on helping Jin-hyung instead of challenging Namjoon,” Yoongi commented from where he was sprawled out on the couch, half-asleep but always listening.

Jungkook turned to Yoongi with a grin. “I already helped Jin-hyung! Right, hyung?”

Seokjin rolled his eyes but smiled fondly. “Yeah, after you nearly burned the rice.”

Jungkook’s laugh echoed through the room, the sound light and carefree. It was moments like this—surrounded by his brothers, teasing each other, full of warmth and love—that made Jungkook feel like he had the best family in the world, even if they weren’t related by blood.

“I didn’t burn it!” Jungkook protested, crossing his arms over his chest. “It was just… crispy.”

Taehyung, who had been quiet until now, looked up from his spot by the window, where he was sketching something. “Crispy, huh? That’s one way to describe it.”

Hoseok, sitting beside Taehyung, burst into laughter. “Hyung’s being nice. That rice was practically charcoal.”

Jungkook pouted, crossing his arms even tighter. “I’m never helping with dinner again.”

“Don’t be like that, Kookie,” Jimin teased, ruffling Jungkook’s hair as he passed by. “You’re still our golden maknae, even if your cooking skills need a little work.”

Jungkook swatted at Jimin’s hand but couldn’t suppress the grin that spread across his face. No matter what, they always made him feel loved.

“Alright, alright,” Namjoon said, standing up and stretching. “Who’s hungry? Let’s eat.”

Dinner was lively, as it always was when they were all together. The table was filled with food, laughter, and stories from their day. Jungkook’s smile never left his face as he listened to his brothers, chiming in with his own jokes and comments. It was these moments that made everything worthwhile—this family they had built together, their little sanctuary from the rest of the world.

After dinner, Jungkook was the first to jump up and volunteer to do the dishes, his energy boundless as always. “I got this! You guys relax.”

Seokjin raised an eyebrow. “You sure you won’t burn the plates this time?”

Jungkook groaned. “Hyung! I said I’m sorry about the rice!”

Laughter filled the room again, and Jungkook’s heart swelled with happiness. He loved them all so much, and he knew they felt the same about him.

But then, one day, everything changed.

It happened in the blink of an eye—too fast for any of them to comprehend. One moment, Jungkook was there, his usual bright self, and the next, he was gone.

The news came like a punch to the gut. Namjoon answered the phone that day, his face going pale as he listened to the voice on the other end. The room went silent, everyone watching as Namjoon’s hand trembled, his knuckles white as he gripped the phone.

“Namjoon?” Seokjin asked, his voice laced with concern. “What is it?”

Namjoon’s voice cracked as he spoke. “Jungkook… he’s been in an accident.”

The words hung heavy in the air, disbelief settling over them like a thick fog. Hoseok’s eyes widened in horror, Taehyung’s sketchpad fell from his hands, and Yoongi sat up, his usually calm expression replaced with shock.

“What do you mean, an accident?” Jimin’s voice was barely above a whisper, his face pale.

Namjoon swallowed hard, his throat tight. “He… he didn’t make it.”

The room erupted into chaos. Hoseok screamed in denial, Jimin collapsed into Taehyung’s arms, sobbing uncontrollably, and Seokjin… Seokjin just stood there, frozen, unable to process what he had just heard.

Yoongi’s hands clenched into fists, his whole body trembling with a mix of rage and despair. “How?”

Namjoon’s voice was shaky as he tried to explain. “His father… it wasn’t an accident. It was planned. They found evidence.”

Jungkook’s father had always been a looming presence in his life, a man who never cared for his son’s happiness. He was a cruel man, one who saw Jungkook as nothing more than a pawn. None of them had known the extent of his hatred, though. They never imagined he would do something like this.

“He’s gone,” Namjoon whispered, sinking to his knees as the weight of it all came crashing down.

The days that followed were a blur of grief and anger. The once lively house was now quiet, the laughter that Jungkook had always brought with him snuffed out like a candle. Each of them dealt with the loss in their own way—Hoseok isolated himself, unable to cope with the crushing weight of losing his sunshine. Yoongi became distant, retreating into himself, while Jimin cried himself to sleep every night. Taehyung spent hours staring out the window, as if hoping Jungkook would walk through the door like nothing had happened, and Seokjin… Seokjin tried to hold them all together, even though he was barely holding on himself.

One night, as the rain poured outside, Namjoon stood in front of Jungkook’s room. It had been weeks since the accident, but none of them had the heart to touch anything in his room. Everything was still the same—his bed neatly made, the shelves filled with his favorite books and games, photos of all of them together hanging on the walls. Namjoon’s hand hovered over the doorknob, hesitant.

“Hyung?”

Namjoon turned to see Jimin standing behind him, his eyes red and swollen from crying. “You can go in, you know. He’d want us to.”

Namjoon nodded, swallowing the lump in his throat. “I know.”

They stepped inside together, the air in the room heavy with the absence of the one person they all loved so much. Namjoon walked over to the desk, where Jungkook’s favorite sketchbook lay. He picked it up, flipping through the pages, each drawing a reminder of the boy who had brought so much light into their lives.

“I don’t know how to keep going without him,” Jimin said softly, his voice breaking. “It hurts so much, hyung.”

Namjoon placed the sketchbook down, pulling Jimin into a tight hug. “I know, Jiminie. I know.”

And as they stood there, in the room that still smelled like Jungkook, they realized that the pain might never go away. They would always carry this loss with them, this empty space where their youngest brother used to be. But even in the midst of their grief, they held onto each other, just like they always had.

Because even though Jungkook was gone, they were still a family. And that was something no one could ever take from them.

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TBC