Home Calls The Heart
Summary: Twenty-year old L/N Y/N realizes she might be, okay, is a little bit of a social pariah. But there’s not much she can really do about it. Until a dreary winter day, when a determined, persistent dog hybrid named Taehyung shows up and declares that he’s interested in adopting her for himself and the rest of his lonely pack.
chapter: one
Word Count: 7.2k+
rating: T (mentions of death, depression/mental illness, past abuse and neglect, and reader’s height is briefly alluded to)
genre: romance | hurt/comfort| magic AU
tags: bts x reader | ot7 x reader | hybrid | poly| FM!reader
Emperor Penguin!Seokjin, Golden Retriever!Taehyung, Coyote!Hoseok, Mountain Lion!Yoongi, Wolfdog!Namjoon, Kingfisher!Jimin, Holland Lop!Jungkook
Ch.2
Author’s Note: New at this so go easy on me please. 🥺 Probably one of the few times I will ever use an unnamed Y/N. I’m not very used to writing in this format, but I am too lazy to think up a good name as I intended for this to be a one-shot. Though I am awful at one-shots …so this may end up in 2-3 parts. This came from a prompt I wish I could credit but can’t find now, about hybrid Bangtan “adopting” a human that Taehyung brings home. This was originally meant to be a funny and strictly fluffy take on the prompt, but evolved into this somewhat angsty mess. Apologies. Still fluffy though, I promise.
It had been one week. One week without Choi Han-Gyeol, and the boys were still very much in mourning. It hurt when so much of their lives had been intertwined with the man’s, and so much of him still lingered everywhere around the farm. They could no longer hear the sharp cackles over his own jokes, but the ugly painting of a morose clown he had bought on a whim from the bizarre still hung in the living room. Not even three weeks ago he had affixed it to the wall, near the mantel decorated in photos of the boys through the years. Jimin took one look at the clown’s sunken cheeks, droopy eyes and quivering lips, declared it a monstrosity, and then demanded it come down.
But Han-Gyeol or Gramps as he preferred they called him, made a remark about how he would leave it up, because with the portrait hanging there, he wouldn’t have to go down the hall to look in the mirror. Joking at his own expense was one of his specialities. Jin had picked up his sense of corny humor from years of close exposure, and the boys groaned over each of the duo’s lame puns or terrible one-liners.
Now it was different, though. Jin hadn’t even attempted a joke since the day before they lost their guardian—Gramps never cared for being referred to as their owner or master, a habit easier to break for some of them than others. The funeral was a pretty swift process, thanks to the meticulous instructions the old man had left behind. Apparently he had been planning for the inevitability for a while, likely since his health started to take a serious decline.
He brushed them off when they cast him worried gazes, practically growling like a hybrid himself when they hovered too much or tried to discreetly take on more of his house chores. He hated being coddled and said he would rather keep his dignity and some semblance of independence.
Han-Gyeol had no children, just some scattered great-nephews and a great-niece. None of them contested the will, leaving everything to his hybrids. Then again, the old guy was smart. On paper, it looked like all he’d really had left at the end was a farm in the middle of nowhere, one his family had never visited.
In reality, the eccentric geezer had amassed quite the fortune in late adulthood thanks to his peanut shelling company. He sold to candy factories around the world and made a killing from that alone, never mind all the well-made investments over the last decade. The farm, he told them, was a purchase made from nostalgia, wanting to reconnect to his country bumpkin roots. It later became a safe haven to every hybrid he found or rescued and let stay with him.
Jungkook, the one who had found him collapsed in the field—a heart attack, they learned later—was holed up in Gramps’ bedroom, surrounded by his things and the fragrance clinging heavily to the air that the boys jokingly called his “foxy grandpa” perfume, because he wore it when he wanted to go out on the town and leave an impression.
Everywhere he looked, everyone was so sad. So…defeated. Taehyung was no exception. He was just as devastated by the heartbreak of losing the only human most of them had ever really been able to trust.
Gramps swept into his life on a muggy summer day when he was just a pup. At the time, he was about to be carted off to who knows where by Hybrid Control officers. The family who had purchased him to be a playmate to their young daughter—who’d quickly gotten bored with him in favor of a colossal dollhouse—could no longer keep him.
They were losing their house and a lot of possessions, including the six-year old puppy hybrid who didn’t understand why his owner’s parents were arguing, tears streaming down the woman’s face. The little girl, a child of nine, seemed less affected right up until her parents started separating toys she could keep and those that would have to be sold. You tended to lose everything when you got caught embezzling millions, not that he knew that at the time. He was scared, confused, and no one was paying him any attention.
When they finally noticed him watching from the corner of their daughter’s playroom, the decision to send him with Hybrid Control wasn’t a drawn out one at all. They regarded him with dispassion, and the tall man in a gold and black uniform reached for his wrist to pull him away.
Taehyung couldn’t say he was overly attached to the family. The parents cooed at him when they took him from his littermates and parents, stuck a bow on his head and dressed him up in the most expensive outfit he had ever owned, and presented him to their daughter on her birthday.
Then that was that. From then on they mostly treated him like a discarded teddy bear that had been left on the floor and needed to be put away, regardless of the fact that he talked, ate and was, as he’d always been told by his family and the woman who owned his parents, a very good boy.
The girl he was meant to grow up with, his person, his noona, barely looked up when they carried a wriggling Taehyung out, frantically reaching for her. Sure, she was bossy, changed her mind about what game they should play so much it made his head spin. Sure she never listened to what he wanted to do, and actually stripped him down to force him to put on clothes she liked better for the sake of her imaginary games, depending on the role she gave him. Sure she wasn’t…perfect, but that didn’t matter to him.
His parents had told him having an owner would be a wonderful thing, and of all their pups, he deserved a good home. They told him he would know his person right away, love them, and that the right human would cherish him.
The pup had often wondered, another expensive bobble in the big house with this distant family who brought him there, if he was doing something wrong. Because none of them inspired the feeling his parents told him about. Still, they were his home. His first real home that was meant to be his. And he must have been a bad boy to lose it.
Through all his crying, and pleading, and promises that he would be good from then on, a better boy than he ever was before, the humans gave him the same blank face they always had, ready to let the hybrid control officer drag him away. Then, they took a look at him, and their eyes widened. Taehyung’s heart skipped a beat, a whimper died in his throat. Were they changing their mind? Seeing that he was worth keeping after all? “Wait, we’d like his collar back.” The husband had said, all business. The collar they had bestowed on him was a bit heavy, and very flashy. Custom made and encrusted with quite a few jewels. When he doubted his place in their family, thought about wandering off to find someone who actually wanted to play with him and cuddle at night with him, he looked down at the accessory.
Surely they wouldn’t spend so much money getting it for him if they didn’t love him. His mother told him his human would love him so much, they’d shower him with nice things and kind words, stroke his belly when he was sad, and throw his favorite ball for hours with a smile on their face. Taehyung only shifted into his puppy form by request, when their daughter wanted to put bows in his fur or the game required an actual dog (according to her whims).
Her parents didn’t like him running around as a puppy any other time, because of “pet dander” (whatever that meant). Needless to say he had never run through their huge backyard chasing his favorite ball. He had never rolled in the mud after it rained while someone sprinted behind him with the hose to try washing him off.
Once the collar was ripped off his throat, he knew he never would. This was it. They really didn’t want him. He wasn’t a bad boy, he was the worst boy, and his cries started up in earnest. Though this time, he didn’t fight, didn’t protest when hybrid control took him from the large house, ready to let them throw him into the back of their scary, dark van with its barred, tinted windows.
That was when Gramps materialized from nowhere, asserting his right as a concerned citizen to know what was happening, and told them right then and there he was going to adopt the sobbing boy. Taehyung must have looked so pitiful, ears pressed flat in his fluffy golden hair, tail drooping lower than ever before. His big watery blue eyes, the only fault for an otherwise perfect specimen of a golden retriever hybrid, shining with oncoming tears.
Gramps was an eccentric fifty-five year old man at the time, dressed tackily in tartan pants with a yellow blazer and wearing a velvet top hat. He kind of reminded Taehyung of ringleaders from the circus show he had been to once with his owner and her family.
The hybrid control officers protested about the rules, how he had just been signed over to them and anyone wanting to adopt him would have to wait for Taehyung’s intake and his ten day hold to be over. Then they could submit an application like everyone else and see if they were approved.
Taehyung quivered, his eyes pleading with this strange human who seemed like the least threatening choice, hoping he would help. And he did. With a conspiratorial smile, he took out his wallet and his phone.
Two decades later, Taehyung still wasn’t sure exactly what happened, but he ended up going home Choi Han-Gyeol, which was the best thing that could have possibly happened that day. There, he found a playmate/friend in an emperor penguin hybrid named Seokjin who’d been rescued roughly a year prior to his arrival from a carnival that wasn’t equipped to provide for him properly.
The older boy showed him the ropes, got him used to living on the farm and assured him that Gramps was a good human that could be trusted. One of the first additions he’d made to his land after acquiring Seokjin was installing a new facility where the temperature stayed subarctic at all times so he could be comfortable when he needed to escape the summer heat.
Over the years, more hybrids had joined them, coming from a variety of backgrounds. Two of his hyungs were former wild hybrids, losing their families in separate incidents due to discrimination against their species. With Gramps as the common thread that tied them together at first, they had become close. Just the eight of them, thriving in their own little corner of the world.
And then there were seven, Gramps’ ashes scattered on the rocky shores of his favorite beach, just like he wanted. He was gone. He was free. Happy as that made the dog, it didn’t stop the persistent ache in his heart. For him or for the others.
They went on, because what choice did they have? The farm animals were taken care of, the house was grudgingly cleaned, but no one had any cheer, and it was starting to take its toll. They were usually a vibrant bunch with a rowdy household. Gramps scolded now and then, but they all knew he wouldn’t want it any other way.
“Hey, food’s done.” Yoongi greeted as Taehyung made his way into the kitchen. “Who’s going to be the one to drag the kid out here?”
Hoseok and Jimin, who had been quietly talking at the table, stared between each other. “Shouldn’t we let him sleep a little longer, hyung?” Jimin asked carefully. “You know he’s restless at night.”
Jungkook, their youngest, was holding himself responsible for the passing of their late owner, a burden all of them wished he would take off his shoulders. Somehow in the poor bunny’s head, he had convinced himself he could have prevented Gramps’ death. Noticed the signs of the impending heart attack sooner, or taken on more of the old man’s chores no matter how much he’d get yelled at for it.
But the reality of the situation would remain the same. The heart attack would have still happened, and no amount of wishing otherwise would have led to a different outcome. Shortly before that fateful day, they had all noticed Gramps slowing down, ever so slightly, and the change of his scent. He assured them it was a light cold, nothing more, and that he would take it easy. But deep down, each of them had known better.
Trying to give Jungkook time to work out his feelings was the plan. It had only been a week, and grief wasn’t linear anyway. They wanted to let him come to the conclusion he wasn’t to blame in his own time while offering him support.
“It’s past two in the afternoon,” Yoongi grumbled, sounding fairly annoyed, his thick tail swiping once across the floor. Of course, some of them were running low on patience. “The least he can do is get up and come eat with us, then go lay back down. But a shower probably wouldn’t kill him either.”
“He’s depressed, Yoongi. Gramps was here one minute, gone the next. And Jungkook was right there after it happened. There’s still a lot he needs to process.” Hoseok reasoned.
“Okay, well somebody go get him so he can process on a full stomach at least. Up until a week ago the bun was eating like he was in his third trimester of pregnancy, now he’s just nibbling at whatever I send up. It’s starting to piss me off to see all that food go to waste.” The words were harsh, but the three of them had been living with the mountain lion far too long not to see through the bluster. Yoongi was as worried as they all were. He sometimes made a separate meal just for Jungkook with all his favorites in an attempt to get him to eat a little bit more.
“I’ll go, hyung,” Taehyung volunteered, catching the big cat hybrid’s gaze of approval before he changed direction for the stairs. The older man said a quiet thank you, and added something about bringing the other members of their pack down if he saw them.
Taehyung ascended the creaky, spiraling staircase of the three-story farmhouse. For being such a large house, it was as cozy as a small log cabin on a winter’s eve. It never felt imposing and stuffy, like his first owners’ home had been with its air of emptiness.
This was a home Gramps had built not very long before meeting them. He liked to say he had a good intuition that all the extra space he had no use for when it was built, would be given purpose. And sure enough he found Seokjin, then Taehyung, followed by Yoongi, and the others trickled in steadily, until the big farmhouse was always loud and homey.
The third floor was mostly recreational— a game room, a movie room, even a nice home gym for Jungkook and whoever felt like joining him. The second floor housed them, their rooms close, just like they preferred.
Whoever didn’t want to sleep alone for any reason ranging from bad nightmares to general clinginess could stroll to the room across from theirs or right next door and climb into bed to snuggle down with a packmate. Gramps’ room was the only one facing the stairs, far down at the end of the hall.
Growing up, they had fun pretending they were in a cartoon, running from room to room chaotically and trying to startle Gramps by popping up from a door he didn’t expect, sometimes succeeding and sometimes getting frightened themselves (especially Hoseok and Jin).
Each step felt so heavy, and the hallway felt so long and simultaneously not long enough as the dog approached Gramps’ door, already sensing the sadness emanating from inside. Taehyung missed the Jungkook who wrestled with him and played pranks with him, even annoyed him from time to time.
They had lost Gramps and now, he really felt like they were losing themselves. It was no wonder, since he had been the only safe human for most of their lives. The world outside the farm was not as nice. They had to wear collars whenever they had a group outing, so none of them could be snatched up and carted off by hybrid control.
It reminded him of something strange Gramps had said a year or two ago, all of them outside enjoying the spring sunshine that day.
Jin set out the lunch he’d whipped up, Namjoon read in the shade while Hoseok played with Yoongi’s tail and he chased Jungkook and Jimin around.
The makane trio collapsed on top of each other in the sweet smelling grass, giggling and playfully nipping ears. He and Jimin joined together to pin Jungkook, who, despite being designated a prey hybrid, had muscles to spare. Competitive to a fault in their little games, Jungkook only stayed down for a minute before he was kicking up and falling on both of them with a triumphant laugh. Blunt teeth tugged at one of Taehyung’s floppy ears, but it didn’t hurt, the solid weight of the bunny’s strong body draped over him as he was half-lying on Jimin. When they realized this, Taehyung and Jungkook scrambled back, not wanting to accidentally be rough with their packmate’s wings. “Come on kids, time to eat.” Yoongi called. They all obediently sprinted over, nearly toppling into one another. Jin rolled his eyes good-naturedly, instructing them to use the hand sanitizer he’d brought along before accepting their meals.
As they chowed down, less than refined with no one to impress, Taehyung heard Jin ask Gramps if the food wasn’t to his liking.
“Nah, not that at all. You did a fine job like always Jinnie-boy.” The penguin preened at the compliment, his fair skin going pink. “But I’ve got a question for you boys, and I want you to answer honestly. Don’t worry about holding back on account of my feelings.”
“Why so cryptic, Gramps?” Yoongi asked, setting his chopsticks down to give the man his complete attention.
“Cause these needs saying and it’s important. I know I adopted each of you boys from some sticky situations. Some of you have spent most of your lives here. And I never was a spring chicken, but that’s beside the point I guess. I’m thinkin’ I did you a disservice, keeping you secluded here on the farm.”
“We like it here!” Jimin protested as soon as Gramps paused for a breath. His colorful wings ruffled out, indignant at the very notion that any of them could feel otherwise. “Why wouldn’t we? You provide us with all our needs, and we’re family.” Various voices joined in to agree.
“He’s right, HanGyeol-ssi.” Namjoon’s baritone cut through all of them. He hadn’t called Gramps that in ages. It was the only way he would address him for a month after arriving, but once Han-Gyeol drilled ‘Gramps’ into his head, he used the affectionate nickname as freely as the rest of them. That meant that Namjoon wanted to impress upon their elder how serious they were being. “You may not see yourself as our owner, but you’re our human. You taking us in, giving us this life, it means more than we can express.” The others dipped their heads in solemn nods. “Plus, you’re not exactly keeping us in chains. If we wanted to go, we wouldn’t be here.” A dimple appeared in his left cheek as he smirked.
Gramps tipped his head back, his sharp crackle of a laugh setting everyone more at ease. “Fair enough, and I did ask for honesty, eh? Nice to know you stick around and mooch off me cause ya want to.” he teased. “But I had to ask. The world’s changing. More humans are taking their heads out of their asses these days. I hear beyond the barrier, hybrids are getting more rights every year. Soon it won’t be mandatory for them to wear collars in public if they don’t want. They’ll be able to carry identification cards.”
Taehyung’s ears twitched in interest, the others seemingly as intrigued as he was. The farm was situated just past the old barrier, one that separated the half of the city mostly inhabited by hybrids from the one with predominately human inhabitants. Nothing said humans couldn’t live amongst hybrids, or vice versa, but before any of them were born, it was decided that maybe the best way to keep the peace after the emergence of hybrids was through separation.
At least, that was until hybrids and humans could come to a better understanding. They couldn’t even come together and decide how to govern on one accord. Most humans that chose to make their home amongst the hybrid population kept to themselves, or they already had hybrids in the family whom they wanted to be comfortable. When they asked long ago what made Han-Gyeol purchase twenty acres of land in the hybrid district before he actually had hybrids, he said that hybrids always struck him as being above drama more than people. All they really wanted was peace and equality. Humans wanting to live in their district just had to pass a background check, prove they weren’t linked to any hate crimes against hybrids and hadn’t ever been convicted for abusing one.
There also wasn’t such a thing as true “ownership” of a hybrid this side of the barrier. If a human and hybrid chose each other, the process was a lot more like when a human adopted an orphaned child, or vice versa, when a hybrid adopted themselves a human family member. Things were of course much more oppressive on the human side. That’s the side all of them had suffered on.
“I know none of you have had an easy hand out there,” Gramps said, like a mind-reader, “but if you ever got the urge to set out on your own and see life beyond this farm, I wouldn’t stop you.”
“Where’s this coming from?” Jin whispered. “Are we a nuisance?”
“You’ve been slacking on your chores too much for video games, Kookie.” Taehyung pretended to scold.
Jungkook’s mouth popped open as he clutched his face in silent horror, making them all laugh.
“Thanks for humoring an old man.” Gramps sighed. “Just promise me none of ya are going to sit around in the dumps when I’m gone. Find you a nice human if you decide to take in another one. Preferably a newer model with low mileage. If it’s a pretty lady, even better.” He winked, to which they all groaned. Gramps…always the jokester.
That was then and this was now, when the strange advice seemed more relevant than ever. Taehyung knocked softly, hearing Jungkook shuffle around as he more than likely sat up from the cocoon he’d made of the blankets.
Adopting a human, huh? That was all well and good to suggest, but Taehyung didn’t even know how to keep a pet. Sure, they shared the farm with some chickens, ducks, a few goats, even a horse and sheep and two pigs…but none of them were pets. The hybrids considered them just as much residents of the farm as they were. Friends. Their animal sides, even though some of them were the natural predators of the lesser animals, made them sympathetic to the barnyard creatures in a way few humans besides Gramps could be. It was absurd to think of keeping a puppy, when he was partially a dog genetically himself. A human…the member of their family they had lost was a human. And nothing and no one could ever replace their Gramps or his impact on them.
But maybe…just maybe… Taehyung thought of the gloominess that shrouded the whole house. How normally mild-mannered and patient Yoongi was more huffy than ever, how Jungkook had retreated into himself, how Jin had stopped telling jokes and all of Namjoon’s time was spent in the library or writing depressing poems…he knew what he had to do, for all of them.
He had to adopt a new human.
~~~
(Y/N) unwrapped her burger, salivating as the smell hit her full on. She currently had the whole bench to herself, free to set down her tote bag and unwind a little. Silently sending up thanks for the food, the young woman took a big bite, groaning happily as she started to chew. It was the little things that made life bearable at times. Like munching on a juicy burger in the peace of her favorite local park.
Bit of an overcast day, but that didn’t stop the people who were walking along the trail, or unwinding on benches or blankets just like her. Some even had their hybrids with them.
There was also a girl throwing a ball to a dachshund, who raced after it as fast as those stubby legs would allow, and (Y/N) was sure if the pup was a hybrid or an ordinary dog. It could be hard to distinguish at times, especially from a distance.
She sighed, trying not to be too consumed in thoughts of the past, when she and her childhood dog had done the same.
Ha-Kun was a loyal mutt. She and her father had found and rescued him when she was in middle school. (Y/N) remembering taking the shivering puppy home and getting him dry after fishing him out of a river. Instantly, the young girl fell in love with his doleful brown eyes and laughably long ears. There was no telling exactly what was in his genetics, but basset hound probably featured prominently.
That was about the time when (Y/N) made another discovery—her gift. Touching the dog had sent sparks skittering through her fingertips. She’d assumed it was static after rubbing him vigorously with a towel. But as she reached to stroke his head, something strange occurred.
In that moment, (Y/N) could truly feel everything the dog felt. His contentment, the fear that was melting into gratitude, and a newfound sense of devotion. Running to retrieve her dad, she tried to explain what happened, words likely making little sense judging by the confusion on his face.
After he had calmed her down, (Y/N) tried telling him what happened once again, and her father listened with intrigue. Returning to the kitchen together, they found the pup still wrapped in towels and cozy on the kitchen table, smacking his lips in a yawn at them. Giggling, (Y/N) decided then and there he looked too at home to abandon back outside, where he might find himself in another predicament, and her dad agreed. Their new family member was named ‘Ha-Kun’ shortly after, and he made their small family complete over the years. It turned out (Y/N) truly did have a special ability. She was an empath. Specifically, one who could feel and understand the emotions of animals.
It had come as mildly surprising at first, but her father shrugged it off, hypothesizing maybe it came from her mother’s side. Magic was uncommon in the modern era, but not unheard of. People still cropped up now and then who were born with some special talent or another. Making plants grow, running at super-speed, teleporting, and talking to animals.
(Y/N) couldn’t talk to them per se. She had never been able to crack the code to understand ‘words’, but understanding their feelings was very close to that. One touch and everything in its head flowed right through her. Her keen knack for getting them had made her decide to become an animal behaviorist.
Her profession was rewarding, and it felt like her calling, traveling everywhere from households to zoos in a bid to make sure animals had a voice through her. With insight into how they felt made it easier to deduce what was happening and why their behavior may have suddenly changed. The work paid handsomely, but well, it did get a bit lonely.
Ha-Kun had finally slowed down too much to play fetch, and then too much to go on long walks. He ate less, he slept more, and the day she touched his back and peeked into his mind, just as she had so many times before, it broke her heart. That day was a blur.
(Y/N) tried her hardest not to dwell on it. But there was crying. So much crying. Ha-Kun was sad to be leaving her all alone, but she assured him he had been by her side as long as he could manage, and she would never forget him. Her dad met her at the vet’s for moral support, and to say his own goodbyes. They’d watched Ha-Kun drift off into a peaceful sleep together.
That was eight months ago, and (Y/N) still felt the echoes of that loss. There were times when she came home to her empty apartment and felt his absence so profoundly, it was all she could do not to sink to her knees and sob. Ha-Kun had been her best friend, her confidant, there for her always. Each time work had been draining, a blind date her friend set her up on went horribly wrong, or things otherwise weren’t going her way, she could come home and tell him all about it. Her power let her know that animals truly did understand far more than people gave them credit for, and Ha-Kun was a sweet, supportive soul.
People in her life who meant well made suggestions, saying maybe she should try adopting another pet, or maybe even adopt a hybrid. And (Y/N) had considered it, knowing her old friend would rest easier to know she was opening her heart to a new friend. But the few times she had half-heartedly visited hybrid adoption agencies or pet shelters, the spark of connection to make the leap was never there. (Y/N) would never do a hybrid or a pet the disservice of bringing them home when her heart wasn’t in it. She believed both hybrids and animals deserved only homes who were fully committed to them.
Maybe one day, her soul would match with another’s again. Looking down in her lap, (Y/N) realized she’d let her burger grow cold, nibbling it with less enthusiasm so it wouldn’t go to waste. This was the first time she had been back to this park in eight months. It was one of the last places she and Ha-Kun had been together in his final days, and for that reason, she’d thought it best to get some distance from the spot for a while.
Watching everyone happy, whether with their significant others or hybrids, was bittersweet. (Y/N) would never wish the pain that still lingered on any of them. They were strangers who had done nothing to her. But would it be unreasonable if she wished she had a reason to join them again?
Her eyes focused on the girl and dachshund again, the dog slowing down, finally tired after a long hour and a half of chasing its ball. It looked like he wanted just one more throw, and his owner seemed to understand and obliged. It was fascinating watching an animal so small work up that kind of speed.
But as he took off again, a second blur appeared from nowhere, outrunning him to dart for the ball and snatch it up without hesitation. The dachshund was so caught off guard he slipped, eating dirt as he tumbled through the grass. The second canine, much larger than his stout frame, paused to stand over him, head dipping in a show of concern. The dachshund scrambled to his feet and shook himself off as the owner ran over.
She approached warily, unsure about the intentions of the unknown dog, but wanting to check on her own pet. (Y/N) could now see the other dog was a gorgeous golden retriever. As the girl approached, it released the ball from his mouth and nudged it toward her. Bemused but still cautious, she picked it up, and her dachshund trotted over to stand behind her.
The golden dropped to a crouch, fluffy tail an elegant flag waving through the air. Ah, clumsy as his approach had been, (Y/N) was certain that he wanted to join their game. Shaking her head, the girl scooped up her dachshund, dropping the ball at the golden’s feet and walking away. His ears drooped a little, but he picked up the abandoned toy and began to trot around the park.
(Y/N) watched curiously as he made his way around the area, approaching various people and hybrids. Some seemed interested in the dog, and offered him a few quick pats before turning back to their affairs.
Others ignored him entirely, and a few times an agitated hybrid or grumpy dog had blocked their person and stood their ground, making it clear he wasn’t welcome in their space. Each rejection seemed to discourage the poor dog, his tail falling lower and lower. (Y/N)’s heart really went out to him.
Though she couldn’t help but wonder where he had come from, and where his owner was. Surely a golden retriever with such nice muscle definition rippling beneath his glossy, well-groomed coat had a home.
One that made sure he was fed, groomed and properly exercised. As she continued admiring him, his eyes swung in her direction. Human and dog stood still, just observing each other unhurriedly. Then, mind made up, he was coming closer, ball still held in his mouth, tail raising optimistically. (Y/N) couldn’t help but grin. He was no quitter, that was for sure.
Reaching the bench, he was so close she could now see and admire what a stunning creature he was up close. This was the kind of dog that dominated the ring at dog shows.
He radiated warmth, and she had to admit (Y/N) wasn’t sure she had ever seen a golden retriever so silky. It was his eyes that did her in, though.
They were the deepest, most soulful blue. She knew enough about breeds to know that blue-eyes weren’t possible in a purebred golden, even though he looked like one in every other way. Maybe there was some throwback in his genes, some physically non-evident breed making itself known.
Whatever it was, he was no less beautiful. His eyes shining, he eased his head towards her lap. At first, she thought he was going for the remains of her burger, which she had all but forgotten about at his appearance. But it quickly became clear he had another objective altogether. (Y/N) smiled gently, cupping her hands and holding them out.
The dog readily dropped his head into them, and (Y/N) couldn’t contain her loud gasp, nearly recoiling. The emotions that filtered into her… It was such a strong mix of grief and loneliness. He reminded her…of herself.
“Oh, buddy…” she breathed, her eyes feeling heavy and wet. The canine whimpered, dropping the ball on the bench and just standing there with his head on her lap. She used her thumbs to stroke under his eyes, as if she were wiping away unshed tears. The golden whined a few more times, but made no move to remove his head from her lap, sitting on his haunches and pushing in further until his snout touched her stomach. (Y/N) knew that even if she stood up, he would still be at waist-level with her. He was a good size for a golden retriever, but she was also pretty petite for a human. “How long have you been feeling like this?” She asked him.
The golden slowly withdrew his head, huffing a short bark in response. More than ever, she wished she could do more than understand animal emotions. If only she knew exactly what pain was ailing his heart.
There was still no one in sight coming to claim this guy, and his heart called out to her too strongly for her to get up and leave. She had no more appointments for the afternoon anyway. Reaching for the ball he had placed on the bench, (Y/N) showed it to him and watched a little light return to his eyes. “Would me tossing this for you cheer you up a little? I noticed you’ve been trying to play with someone for a while now.”
More light trickled back into those expressive baby blues, a slow wag setting his tail in motion. Taking that as a yes, (Y/N) stood, and sure enough, the dog’s head was at her waist. Putting her tote bag on and throwing her trash away, (Y/N) moved out into the grass with him so there’d be more room to throw. He stood at the ready, and she hoped he wouldn’t be too disappointed with her weak tosses.
When she let the ball fly and he took off like a shot, all she could do was gape. In no time flat the pretty dog was barreling back, and the ball was back in her possession. “Whoa, you really live up to your reputation as a retriever.” She praised. His tongue lolled out of his mouth, eyes squinting in pride. “Wanna do it again?”
The strong bark and way he pawed the ground in anticipation made a full smile break out across her lips. (Y/N) lost count of how many times she watched his sail across the ground like he was floating and return with the ball in his grip. Both their cares seemed to melt away, the dog becoming more animated with every throw, and (Y/N) remembering the joy of playing with a pet in the park. He was much speedier than Ha-Kun ever was, but the fun of watching her old friend bring back the ball was the way his stubby legs maneuvered. This guy was all grace and speed, covering the distance to her in long strides.
(Y/N) felt like it was just the two of them, existing to play with each other, until something cold brushed her nose, and she looked up to see snowflakes drifting down from the dark sky.
It was harder to ascertain the exact time they had been out here. It was a dreary day already and she had come here around lunchtime. With the shorter days of winter, it could be approaching sunset for all she knew. Which meant…
Her new friend looked at her, and his tail dropped, all the energy bleeding right out of him. He knew, she realized.
“I,” (Y/N) swallowed, voice feeling thicker than it should. Why did the thought of saying goodbye sting so badly. She barely knew this dog. And there was no way he was just some stray. He probably got lost, stumbled here, and was too distracted by the prospect of playing to sniff his way home. She likely should have been more focused on helping reunite him with his owner than indulging both of their lonely hearts. “It’s getting late.” She told him.
He barked once, staring behind him, towards the trail that would soon be lit by the light posts coming on. It cut close to the woods, but the area was safe, so even in the evenings, joggers still got in their last bit of running for the day.
Unsure what he wanted, (Y/N) watched him lope off toward the trail, stop, and turn back around. When she remained frozen, he barked a bit more urgently, running to her and nudging at her. She stumbled, able to tell even when being gentle, this dog was strong. “I could be completely off base, but you’re acting like I’m supposed to be following you.”
More urgent barks, and it clicked. That’s exactly what he wanted.
“Um…do you actually know your way home? Do you want me to walk you there?” A calmer bark. “Is it far?”
To her utter astonishment, the dog shook his head. For the first time since meeting him, (Y/N) wondered if she was wrong. What if he was never just some pretty dog, but a hybrid? It might explain those eyes.
And, if that was the case, she should probably be more cautious about following him to parts unknown. Friendly and playful and lonely as he had been, a hybrid was very much in touch with their human side. If he had any ill intentions, what would she do? He might be able to overpower her if he shifted.
A long whine broke her from her thoughts, and he delicately touched his cold nose to the back of her hand, his eyes nothing short of pleading. Puppy dog eyes weren’t fair coming from a master. There was a bit of desperation she could sense from him at the touch. He really, really wanted her to come along. (Y/N) remembered the initial sense that she was meeting a kindred soul, which caused her to feel such a fast attachment to him in the first place. For whatever reason, she wanted to trust him.
“Alright,” she adjusted her tote bag and took a step forward. The golden retriever spun in happy circles. “Lead the way.”
