《My Mate is a Crazy Cat Lady {Namjoonxreader}》Chapter 47: Take a Guess
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Who the hell are all these people?
Since I've literally done the bare minimum in helping out for this wedding/ceremony, I have no idea who all is invited. Ronald was ostracized from his family for being true with who he is (not everyone can be a winner), so I know they won't be here. There's our family and a few of dad's coworkers I recognize. But everyone else is a mystery to me. Yet all of them seem to know who both Ronald and dad are and I guess it would be seriously weird if they didn't.
However, in this mix of strangers and recognizable people, there is one person I notice. One of the most annoying people on earth. While walking down the empty upstairs hallway, I somehow get sucked into a conversation. If that's what you can call it.
"Hey, you." Pervert Mike approaches much in the same fashion as the unwanted insect that attacked me hours ago. Out of nowhere and with an existence I would like to erase.
I close my eyes and sigh heavily. Why. Why universe. What did I ever do to you, bitch? "Why are you here?" I groan.
He shrugs. "My ma is friends with some gay dude that's getting married. Why are you here?"
"One of the gay dudes is my father." I reply dully, halfway hoping that he'll say something ignorant so that I can have an excuse to hurt him. When he only nods in understanding, I attempt to excuse myself. Breathing in the same air as this delinquent has got to be damaging to my brain cells in some way.
With a single step he blocks access to the stairs. "Hold up, now," his eyebrows wiggle as his tongue swipes over his front teeth lewdly. Another disgusted groan comes out of me right before his voice drops to a whisper. "Baby girl."
"I will stab you." I threaten in a voice devoid of emotion. I don't have time for this. My boob hurts, Namjoon is mad at me for some reason, and all I want to do is confess that I love him, but Jungkook keeps interrupting. Also, there's sand in my shoe and no matter how many times I shake it out, it's still there.
In essence: This day SUCKS.
This only seems to excite him, if the way his eyes widen and the psychotic grin on his face is anything to go by. Oh lord. "I'll stab you too, baby girl," his tongue comes out again and performs this strange rolling motion. EWWWWW! "With my big DI-"
"Do you enjoy being such a waste of oxygen or are you really so ignorant to think you're worth more than a sack of shit?" As strange as it sounds, I did not mean for that to come out as brutal as it did. I'm a bitch, but I'm not a heartless bitch, ya know?
Turns out, my smidgen of worry was for naught, because Pervert Mike, being the pervert he is and all, is a masochist and apparently likes being talked to like the piece of trash he is.
"You are so naughty." he says suggestively. GOD, I HATE it when he talks. Everything he says is just shit. "I think you need," his nasty little eyes look me up and down and my stomach rolls with nausea, "a punishment."
Eyes will permanently blind him, throat might kill him. That leaves balls. If he even has a pair.
"Touch me and I'll fuck you up." I warn, feeling so done with everything.
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I love my boyfriend and I can't say it, bees think it's ok to sting me and then fly away like 'tralala!', I spent the entire ride here with auntie preaching to me about a woman's duty to bear children, I'm going to spend two days away from my cats and already miss them, and now this fucking pervert thinks it's ok to talk to me.
"C'mere, baby girl." Pervert Mike's nasty, perverted hand that has probably been in places I can't imagine, grabs me by the wrist. Rather than trying to get away, I relax that arm and move in near to his chest, using my free hand to take hold of his jacket and pull him closer. The moron actually looks excited for a moment, until all the light leaves his eyes when I bring my knee up, aiming carefully for his balls.
Just like my grandma taught me.
I've never seen someone in so much pain. It's great!! This strangled scream erupts from Pervert Mike's mouth before he clamps his jaw shut tightly and groans. It's not the normal type of a groan either, but a deep, guttural sound that reflects the agony he's undergoing. Tears pool at the corner of his eyes.
I knee him one more time just to be a bitch.
Granny would be so proud of me.
Mom's probably got BooBoo on her lap and is looking down from heaven right now like, "yep, that's my little girl."
I let him drop to the ground, Game of Thrones fashion, innocently stepping over his body and skipping down the stairs, as if I didn't just kick his balls so hard I heard his grandchildren scream.
Downstairs in the dining room, supper is underway.
Without asking, I slip into the empty chair next to Namjoon, who annoyingly doesn't turn to look at me, but mentions anyway, "Jin-hyung is sitting there."
Since when can't I sit next to him? Part of me wants to be really petty and poke him with my chopstick (maybe that's more violent than petty but who's paying attention) but the larger, more rational side is determined to get this 'I love you' out. I do feel hurt by his attitude, though. Not once has he ever ignored me or acted like he wanted to avoid my presence.
Regardless of the way he made me feel, I roll my eyes and mutter in reply, "he can find a different seat. Unless you really don't want me here."
He shrugs and brings a glass of water to his lips. I find myself momentarily distracted by the sight of his Adam's apple bobbing up and down.
Have I mentioned that Namjoon is hot now?
"This is my soon to be step-daughter." Ronald introduces me to an older foreign woman seated across the table and I bow my head in greeting. "Y/n, this is Rhonda, my secretary. Funny, right? Rhonda and Ronald. Tackling office issues together. Today, the office. Tomorrow, the world."
Ronald, I'm learning to love you, but your lame ass has got to stop. I force out a chuckle but it goes completely unnoticed thanks to Jin, who, having heard Ronald's terrible joke, is overtaken by the loudest, squeakiest laughter. At least someone thought it was funny. Jin...seated at the other end of the table and no where near Namjoon. The fuck? I begin turning on this traitorous butthole (Namjoon) but am stopped short by Rhonda asking how old I am.
"Seventeen?" she parrots my answer. "I have a son your age. He's around here somewhere. You might go to the same school."
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Oh, hell.
Sorry, Rhonda-ssi, I have a feeling you won't ever be a grandmother, cause I think I just kneed your nasty son in the balls.
Actually...I'm not sorry.
Fuck you, Rhonda!
....Oh my god why am I so violent today.
And wait a second. What does Ronald do for work, again? He...he...he...wears a suit. And the stupidest bow ties ever...and carries a brief case....he works...in...an...office...
You could dangle my whole family over a pit of lava and I would not be able to tell you what Ronald does.
In response to Rhonda, I nod in pretend interest. After while she gets caught up in conversation elsewhere so I take the opportunity to nag at Namjoon, who has taken to pretending I don't exist. It's the weirdest thing ever.
"Why are you mad at me?" I mutter so that no one else can listen in. Namjoon turns and displays a smile that doesn't quite reach his eyes.
"I'm not mad." he says in a voice that indicates that he is mad, but wants to be salty and hold it against me rather than talking it through.
Gaping at him, I rack my brain for a reason that he could be mad at me. Clearly, I did something, but I can't—wait, is he still angry about that hoodie I refuse to send back??
My face forms into a frown at the thought. I love that hoodie! But if he's that pissed about it..."Why did you say I could keep it if you were going to continue like this?"
"Huh?"
"Take your stupid hoodie back then if you're going to be a baby. It stinks anyway." This is great, actually. I only took (stole) it in the first place because it smelled like him. But in a month's time it doesn't any longer. So I'll give it back to him, apologize, leave it there for a while, then steal it again when he isn't looking!
"That's not why I'm mad." he spits, then mutters under his breath, "but that was my favorite hoodie."
"Thought you weren't mad." I mock, crossing my arms and glaring. "Take your stupid shirt back, anyway." So it can smell good again. Sorry not sorry.
So if that's not it, then...Oh!
"You're still pissed I forgot our anniversary?" I'm not a romantic so the whole idea of anniversaries and Valentines and White day make me squirm. Yearly anniversaries I guess I understand. But Namjoon counts the days so when we got to one hundred he made a huge deal out of it. Me? I forgot and went to bed early cause I had gas. Though I made up for that by one hundred apology kisses, so I don't see how I'm still being judged.
In answer, he shoots me a look so I go back to searching my memory for something I did wrong. Is it because I made that remark about Jimin's massive thighs? Or is it that time I said, "Jin, omega? But them shoulders say alpha."? Or—no! It's because I said I don't give a million and one buttfucks about those stupid science theories he was judging me for not understanding.
Damn...why hasn't he dumped me yet?
Oh my god, wait. I've got it. It's because I won't let him mark me!
"No way." This theory makes the most sense and it sticks in my head like tree sap.
Off topic, but once years ago dad got a real Christmas tree and my cats had a ball destroying it. With BooBoo as the leader, they climbed all the way up the branches and tore it to pieces. They all ended up covered in tree sap and tracked it all over the house. Them, and everything else in the house was sticky for two months after.
Good times.
Back to the subject at hand.
Marking is the only thing that sticks out in my mind that Namjoon and I differ on. There's never been a time when he's pressured me or tried to trick me into it or anything like that. But like clockwork, every full moon Fluffy always asks. Multiple times. Once he even begged and promised to be a 'good wolf'.
Marking, as I've read and been told (because obviously I had more questions about it), was basically just him biting me, and possibly me doing it back. For some reason it wouldn't hurt as long as I accepted it, and it would leave a mark that was only visible to myself and other werewolves. The main thing I would get from it was, since I'm not a werewolf, my side of the connection to the soul mate bond is compromised. Marking would make it possible for me to feel it in it's full capacity.
I'm not ready for that, for a number of reasons. I'm scared. Sometimes Namjoon acts crazy. He's gotten better about it, but he's weird when it comes to the other guys coming too close to me or touching. He acts like there's serious imminent danger I must be protected from every full moon and doesn't even like when other people look at me during that time. My neck must be licked on a normal basis.
Like I said, weird. So that's why I'm scared. When I'm marked, will I be weird too? And how would I justify that behavior to all the normal people around me?
Another reason being, that's a huge commitment. Marking to them is like marriage to humans. It's a big deal, and a step I can't force myself to be ready to take. If I'm still unable to take this relationship to a more intimate level, I'm leagues away from committing my entire future to him. At this point, the thought of us breaking up seems improbable. Yet the what if's and maybes are still there. The future isn't written in stone and nothing is foolproof. I want to be sure before I go all the way in.
In a sense, I'm sure now. But I have to think with my brain before my heart. Which really sucks. But I truly love Namjoon, and I don't want to rush something that I can't bear to lose.
He quirks a brow as he studies my thinking face. Surely he's not mad about not marking me. That would be insane.
"Is it because..." the words begin but then trail off with uncertainty, my fingers tucking a strand of hair behind my ear and tracing over that spot. There's no way. The mere idea of him thinking that way...it doesn't sit well.
Yet it's the only logical conclusion I can draw. Annoyingly, my throat feels tighter the more I think about it, but before I could go into full pity party mode, he grasps my hand and asks me quietly, "What are you thinking?"
So now he cares? It only took me coming to the brink of tears for him to pay attention. Irritated shouldn't be at the forefront of my emotions, but I'm always irritated on some level. Even when I'm happy I'm annoyed by something.
I glare, but enough relief is mixed in with this jumble of feelings that I'm able to form an answer. "Marking?" My fingers brush the side of my neck once more as his eyes widen.
Frantically his head shakes back and forth in the negative. "No! I would never-"
This mofo! Without thinking I reach over and pinch him. "Then tell me why you're mad so I can stop thinking the worst!"
Sighing, he gives my hand a slight squeeze. "You-"
"Alright, everyone!" Ronald decides on being the 74,399,634,958th person to interrupt me today. "Time for rehearsals!"
—
Edited 6/3/22
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