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s0seo · 4 years

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The Heir Chapter 1

Pairing: OT7 x Reader WC: 3755

Rating: M

Genre: Vampire au with lots of angst and eventual fluff and smut

Summary: After you and your friend are attacked during a night out, you discover a world much bigger and more dangerous than you could have ever imagined.

WARNINGS: 18+, Lots of blood, swearing, assault, death of Minor character

A/n: I really want to thank @noonaduck @autumns-sweaters @solitudiante for beta reading this and helping me get this where it needed to be. I hope you all enjoy!

You see the seconds on the clock counting down, your heart pounding in your chest.

5, 4, 3, your favorite team is only two points down and is trying to beat the buzzer.

The player throws the ball past half court and into the hands of his teammate who turns to throw from the three-point line. As he shoots the ball you feel time slow down and you hold your breath.

2, 1 you see the ball flying, barely hitting the rim of the basket before falling through the net just as the buzzer sounds. The stadium erupts in cheers and you smile. You knew bringing him to this game was a good idea. Looking to your friend standing next to you, you can tell by his gummy smile that he feels the same. Still facing him, you glance again at the scoreboard.

“What did I say Yoongs? Never bet against Daegu.” He rolls his eyes and retorts, “I wasn’t doubting. I just said they were cutting it close.”

You stay in your seats for a few minutes while you wait for the stadium to clear out a bit. Deciding now would be the perfect time to order your Uber, you put in your order and see a few different messages from your other friends. Leaning back in your seat, you gesture to Yoongi to wait a moment while you respond to each one.

The first one you see is from Namjoon.

Namjoon: How’s the game going? Are you guys having fun?

Y/N: Sorry, I didn’t hear my phone go off. Yeah, the game was great! It was super loud though, but I think Yoongi enjoyed it too.

Next you see a few messages from Jin.

Jin: Hey text me when the game is over and we can probably meet up for drinks

Jin: Scratch that I went ahead and picked up a shift for tomorrow morning and you know I need my beauty sleep. Maybe next time!

Y/N: No worries! Just let me know when you’re free and we can hang out.

You see that you have a message from Jungkook as well

Jungkook: Hey me and the others were thinking about heading to my dad’s club next weekend, you in?

Y/N: I’m alright. Honestly, I’m not a big fan of clubs.

Y/N: Thanks for the invite though. Maybe we can do something else.

You’re beginning to wonder why they don't just message you through the group chat when you see a new notification.

Hobi: I need your help applying for some of these scholarships for next semester. I have to write a few letters and you know how bad my writing is.

Hobi: Please???

Y/N: Don’t worry about it. You free next week? How many letters do you need?

Finally, you see one last unanswered message.

Jimin: Tae and I were thinking about going to the beach tomorrow, wanna join us? Ask Yoongi too!

You look over at Yoongi and catch him browsing his phone as well, already knowing what his answer is going to be.

Y/N: Definitely! I don’t think Yoongs will come though. You know he doesn’t really like being outside.

Y/N: I think he’s supposed to visit his parents next week so let’s try to go then instead?

Y/N: Would you be willing to wait for me?

Rising out of your seat, you place your phone in your pocket and say to Yoongi as you stretch,

“I think the crowd has died down enough.”

He nods to you in response as he lets out a small yawn, and you can tell he’s getting tired.

“C’mon let's head out,” you say as you start your climb up the stairs towards the exit. You look back and continue with the suggestion, “let’s grab a few drinks to celebrate and head home. After all, it’s not every day my best friend turns 25.”

You are only met with a grunt which you consider translates to “that’s a great idea,” and finish your climb in silence,

As you reach the top of the stairs, you see that even the thinned crowd is still a giant mass of people.

‘So much for an easy exit,’ you think to yourself as you turn to Yoongi and see from his face that he’s thinking the exact same thing.

You realize that when you had the idea to take him to his first professional basketball game to celebrate his birthday, you didn’t take into consideration how crowded it was going to be when the game was over. Taking his hand, you lean close to him.

“Stay close. I’m gonna try and make a path for us.”

You then pull him along and start forcing your way through the crowd. When both of you finally make it out of the building, you lean against the wall, close your eyes, and breathe, thankful for the fresh air filling your lungs. From the sound to your left you can tell that Yoongi is doing the same.

You both really hate crowds, and you realize that this was probably the largest amount of people you two have been around in years. You pull out your phone to see how far away your Uber is, thankful that the app only says five minutes. ‘Good,’ you think to yourself, ‘I knew it was a good idea to wait until the stadium cleared a bit. This traffic is terrible.’ You look over to Yoongi and ask, “so, how do you feel? Did you have fun tonight?”

You knew when you bought the tickets that he wasn’t a fan of large crowds or loud noises, neither of you were, but you hope that he at least had fun seeing his favorite team in real life tonight. He looks away for a moment, forming his response.

“I really liked it. I’ve always wanted to come to one of these. Growing up you know my family never really had money, and basketball was sort of my way of escaping my reality. Even though I wasn’t the tallest or the fastest, playing gave me a sense of control that I wished I had over other parts of my life, so thank you.”

You understand, remembering how much his family was struggling financially when you became friends. How he struggled with his parents and his dreams of playing basketball and becoming a music producer. You lean into him and say, “I’m happy that I could make your birthday a good one.”

You look away, garnering your courage to admit what you have been wanting to say all night. “Honestly, I was a little worried about the noise and the crowd, but I’m glad we could do something together. It’s been a while since we spent some time together without all the others, you know.”

He smiles to himself, knowing just how you feel. He thinks for a moment about just how lucky he is to have someone like you in his life, someone who he doesn’t have to explain himself to and understands his way of thinking even better than he does sometimes. He quietly whispers under his breath too low for you to hear, “this is the best birthday I could’ve hoped for,” and looks away to the cars still exiting the parking lot. You both stand there in silence for a while, leaning on each other, lost in your own thoughts while waiting for the Uber to arrive.

You reflect on how far your relationship has come. Growing up together you both continuously saw each other grow into the people you were today. You remember how excited he was when he made the basketball team and the pride he developed for his position as shooting guard. He remembered how proud you were when you became the top student in your class and how your classmates referred to the both of you as “the dream team” dominating sports and academics.

He was good at every sport he set his mind to, basketball, soccer, and tennis. You worked hard to be at the top of your class while also being captain of your school’s debate team, math team and foreign language program.

You let out a sigh as you think about your other friends. You knew they wanted to join you tonight, but you could only manage to grab two tickets before the others sold out. You were lucky you even got these. You glance over at your friend, and you’re pretty sure his level of disappointment at it only being the two of you isn’t that high.

You and Yoongi first met them your junior year of high school after one of the other school districts was forced to shut down its campus due to a lack of funding, and yours was forced to merge with it.

Along with over 150 other students who would now compete with you and your best friend, came six others who would later become the people who knew you better than your own family. Jimin, Namjoon, Jin, Jungkook, Taehyung, and Hoseok were all strangers you both found yourselves competing against constantly.

Yoongi often found himself competing with Taehyung, Jungkook and Jimin for captain positions, and you found yourself having to fight tooth and nail to beat Namjoon, Jin, and Jungkook as well for the top spots in your clubs. The only two you didn’t have a problem with were Taehyung and Hoseok. That was until Yoongi decided to try out for the dance team and you developed an interest in photography.

Stuck together for hours and hours, you soon realized that although you were all different people you all actually had a lot in common besides your clubs.

You were all passionate about your dreams of success and you all agreed to help each other succeed any way you could. You came to a compromise that allowed everyone to succeed while always pushing each other to do their best.

His friendship with the others wasn’t as close as yours was. Even though you were all like a family to each other, you couldn’t help but feel like each of them grew closer to you than they had each other.

You shrug to yourself, not really feeling up to analyzing your friendships tonight, but looking over at Yoongi, you know he’s already thinking of how to tell the others how much he enjoyed tonight without making it seem like he had fun without them, and you wish that he felt like he could be more honest with how he feels sometimes.

Your phone vibrates in your pocket pulling you out of your thoughts, and you see that your ride has finally arrived. “Come on,” you say to Yoongi, grabbing his attention with a nudge of your shoulder.

“Let’s get something to drink then call it a night.”

Deciding to head to your regular bar, you and Yoongi order your drinks and take a seat in your regular booth towards the back.

After drinking your way through a4 bottles of soju, you think it is about time for the both of you to head out. You order another Uber and head to the bathroom, telling Yoongi to just wait for you outside.

Making your way out of the bar your head begins to spin and you chide yourself for not grabbing food before coming. You stumble outside and look around, not spotting Yoongi anywhere.

You could’ve sworn you saw him come out here before you went to the bathroom. You pull out your phone and text him.

Y/N: where are you

Seeing no response, you check the arrival time of your Uber and see it’s still a few minutes away.

You pull up Yoongi’s number and call him. The first call goes straight to voicemail and you curse as you dial his number again. This time even though you don’t get an answer you hear his phone ringing nearby. Searching for the source of the sound, you turn the corner and see his lit-up phone ringing on the ground in the alleyway.

It’s hard to see given that the only light is coming from a dimly lit bulb above the door on the side of the building, but it’s only a few feet away.

You look around and call out for him, already feeling yourself beginning to sober up as your heart begins to pound in your chest.

“Yoongi? Are you out here? Are you okay?” You take a deep breath and begin walking into the alley, becoming very aware of how quiet it has gotten.

Seeing nothing but a dumpster, some empty bottles, and some trash bags you reach down for his phone and pick it up. The screen is cracked, but you can see that it still works.

You glance around once more and realize how sketchy this feels.

Deciding to turn back you think to yourself ‘he probably just dropped his phone out here before going back inside or something.’

Your thoughts are interrupted however when you hear a bang against the dumpster. You turn around, and you hear it again though this time it’s quieter. You turn on your phone’s flashlight and quietly walk towards the dumpster, ready to run away if you need to. As you get closer you hear what sounds like a person moaning.

You dim your flashlight, turn the corner of the dumpster, and you freeze. What you see makes you want to scream.

Yoongi is lying on the ground against the wall covered in blood. He is being pinned down by a man dressed in black. Yoongi’s eyes slowly blink at you.

‘You have to help him! You have to help him’ your thoughts scream at you. You have to be smart though, you realize. Judging by his form, you can already tell that he is much bigger than you.

You look around for something, anything that you could use to save your friend. The man hasn’t seemed to notice you yet, but you know Yoongi can’t last much longer, not with the amount of blood he’s lost.

Deciding that your best option is to hit the man off of Yoongi, you quietly reach down for the biggest bottle you can find, and sneak up behind him before bringing it down on his head as hard as you can.

You see him lean forward, startled and injured by the unexpected attack, and you hit him again, this time reaching forward and pulling him off of your friend.

He seems to be knocked out.

You crouch down in front of Yoongi and look around for help. Out of the corner of your eye you see a person walking near the road at the end of the alley.

“Hey! Call an ambulance! Call the police, hurry!” you yell out to them and see them quickly run back towards the entrance of the bar.

You breathe a sigh of relief before looking back at your friend to inspect his wounds. You can already tell that he has two large gashes: one on his right side and one on his shoulder near his neck, and so much blood.

You can see his short breaths fogging up the cold night.

Reaching for his face, you whisper to him, already feeling your tears beginning to fall.

“Yoongs, it’s gonna be okay. You’re gonna be okay.”

Receiving no response, you say again, “Yoongs? Yoongi, can you hear me?”

You look at his wounds again and place your hands on them, hoping to stop any further bleeding until the ambulance arrives.

Suddenly you feel your entire body jerked backwards. You hear a crack as your body forcefully slams into the brick wall of the building. Feeling your breath leave your lungs, you gasp for air. Tasting copper on your tongue, you realize that your nose has started to bleed and reach up to touch the back of your head with your fingertips, only to realize that you’re bleeding from there as well.

You look up and see the blurry shape of the man glaring down at you.

His face looks angry and he is bleeding along the side right where you hit him earlier. “YOU!” he seethes in recognition as he brings his face near yours, already looking forward to repaying you for the wound on his head and growls at you. “They said to bring you in in one piece, but I don’t think a few scrapes would hurt.”

None of what he’s saying is making any sense to you right now.

‘Who is this man,’ you wonder. ‘Why does he seem to know you?’

Desperately glancing behind him at Yoongi you feel more tears fall. You realize that he’s losing too much blood. He probably won’t make it out of this; neither of you will.

You look at the man as he brings his hand to your throat, and you reach your arms out searching for anything that could help you. You feel your fingers graze the broken neck of a bottle as your vision starts to fade, and you know what you have to do.

Placing your free hand on his arm, you choke out “why are you doing this?”

Your nails are digging deep enough to draw blood now. “Because,” he says lifting you up by the throat as he brings his face close to yours once again, “you ruined everything. More importantly, you pissed me off.”

He looks you in the eyes and you see him pause before licking his bottom lip and bringing his face towards the left side of your head. You can faintly hear sirens in the distance.

Realizing that now is your chance, you bring your right hand upwards sharply and stab him in the neck with the bottle. You twist it in deeper, feeling his blood cover your hand and spray across your face. You hear him let out a scream as he staggers away from you and pulls the bottle out of his neck.

You see blood pouring out of his wound as he rushes forward and slams you against the wall for a second time.

You feel a sharp pain in your right side before you see him stagger away towards the end of the alley. You slide down the wall, your breathing shallow, and your hand trembles as it makes its way to your side.

Bringing your fingers up to your face, you can see that they are covered in blood.

You see that his blood has soaked into your shirt, and you weakly drag yourself over to Yoongi’s now barely conscious body, your tears falling slowly.

You notice the bleeding from the wound on his side has slowed down immensely, and you understand that it’s because he’s running out of blood to lose.

You whisper out to him, your vocal cords crying out in pain from the man’s grip,

“Yoongi? Please look at me... Yoongi!” You reach out and check his pulse, choking out a sob as you realize it’s too weak to feel.

You move one trembling hand and press it against your still bleeding side while your other hand makes its way to the wound on his neck.

After what feels like hours you finally see the flashing lights of the ambulance. You move your hand from your side to cup Yoongi’s face and see his eyes fall to your face as he looks into your eyes and blinks slowly.

” Yoongi”, you whisper as you feel yourself begin to black out, “please be okay,” you barely manage your last word before your eyes shut and you fall forward against him.

A few blocks away...

The man staggers through the empty alleyway, clutching his neck hoping to slow the blood loss. He was lucky that he drained as much of that kid’s blood as he had, otherwise the wound would have killed him.

What was he thinking? He had one job. One job: find the girl and bring her to the abandoned studio. One job, and he couldn’t even do that.

He knew that he shouldn’t have bitten that kid, but he just couldn’t help himself, it had been weeks since he last drank anything.

That bitch ruined everything. If she had just stayed inside a little bit longer, he would have sucked the kid dry and taken her without anyone noticing.

He didn’t understand what was so special about her anyways. The only thing not unmentionably plain about her was her eyes.

They weren’t beautiful or anything, but he couldn’t help but look at them and once he did, he couldn’t convince himself to tear his gaze away.

Shrugging off the thought, he makes his way to the meeting point.

Hearing the faint sound of sirens in the distance, he quickly ducks inside the dark building and hopes that his client is feeling benevolent.

He moves his hand from his neck and sees that his wound has already started to heal. Releasing a heavy sigh, he checks the wound on his head and finds it fully healed. The only evidence left is the dried blood it produced.

He walks down the quiet hallway and opens the first door to his right just as instructed. However, when he enters the room there is nobody there.

Looking at his phone he checks the time remembering that he was supposed to arrive by 1:30 am. He sees that it reads 2:00 am.

‘Shit,’ he thinks to himself. ‘They probably already left.’

Walking further into the room, he begins planning his next move when suddenly he hears the door slam closed and feels a presence behind him followed by a hand wrapping around his throat.

“So,” the figure says from behind him, their voice sounding like a whisper brought by a phantom wind.

“Not only did you fail to deliver the girl, but you also managed to leave an entire shitstorm in your wake as well. There was a reason the word ‘quietly’ was included in your instructions.”

The man gasps for air and tries to respond but only manages to let out a grunt.

The figure releases its grip on the man, and the man sinks to his knees, gasping for air while clutching his neck.

“I’m sorry” he rasps,” Just tell the brotherhood I’ll get her for sure next time.”

The figure lets out a huff before walking around the man.

He stops just in front of the man’s bent knees and lifts him by the throat once more, this time squeezing tighter.

“There won’t be a next time,” the figure whispers before breaking the man’s neck and walking away.

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