My Mate is a Crazy Cat Lady {Namjoonxreader}

Special Chapter: Voldemort

I don't know why people are reading this trash but thank you💜😭💜😭
Here it is. Another special chapter you didn't want. YOU'RE WELCOME.

Voldemort is based off a huge main coon cat that belongs to my sister. His name is Dean and his mother was a stray that abandoned him before he even opened his eyes. Fun facts about Dean: He's 8. He gives kisses if you ask him, he sheds enough to fill The Ancient Temple of Akhmim, and he will only drink water from the sink.

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My name is Voldemort Von-Poopenberg and I am, what humans would describe, as a gray, flat-faced, long haired Persian cat. Our pet human, Y/n, can't decide on whether to call me ugly or cute, however I have heard the words: 'so ugly he's cute' come from her.

Today is that day humans call Valentine's Day. And today is the day I claim my title as alpha. After BooBoo's departure, Steve had taken over as main male four-legger in the household. I now find myself to be a bit miffed by this. Madam SparklePuss is queen, what did we need a male alpha for? Women are as equally capable of leading as men are. And I'm not just saying that because Madam Sparklepuss is my mate.

We have no need for one, yet Steve prances to and fro and tries to issue orders. As the patriarch, BooBoo always had first dibs on Y/n. That meant petting, cuddling, play time, scenting, and whoever got their bowl filled with food first. At the beginning, I was fine and dandy with Steve in this role. He's my elder so that does warrant some measure of respect.

However, my confidence in his new role was tested day by day. Each and every time he mentioned the dog man. Namjoon is all Steve ever talks about. Namjoon is not our pet.

Y/n is our pet. She is our first priority. BooBoo made that blatantly clear before he had to leave. He said we had to put her first in everything. The word hardly needed to be spoke aloud; Y/n is precious to all of us. Not to mention vital for our survival.

Y/n means a lot to me. She saved my life. Not so long ago, I was an orphan roaming the streets, fighting to survive in a civilization that does not cater to our kind. All the humans I was acquainted with before were harsh, coarse and disparaging, seldom passing me a glance or exhibiting any form of sympathy.

Life at that time was burdensome, rough. Cold. Always so cold. Even though I was but a child, no one gave a care that I was malnourished, my fur was thin and patchy, there was a recurrent cough that plagued me, and my tail had been broken.

I loathed humans. They were unkind and they harmed me. I detested my own kind. They stole what meager scraps of food I could find or I caught and they bullied me. I abhorred rats. They were dirty and didn't taste all that swell, but the sole time I was happy as a child was when I was hunting them.

Then one day in the dead of winter, I was shivering next to my favored dumpster outside of this building where humans get food. There was a human there who tried to greet me, but at that point in my life I didn't trust humans as far as I could throw them, and I couldn't even pick them up. He was the first human to ever give me food.

At the outset, I thought perhaps he meant to poison me, or catch me when I approached. On the contrary, he recognized that I wasn't going to draw near as long as he was in close proximity to the plate of scraps he had brought forth, and so backed away from it.

As he left I remember hearing him mutter under his breath, "the last thing Y/n needs is more cats, but she'd disown me if she found out you were here and I didn't tell her."

Later the same evening I was gratefully full, but exponentially colder than before, due to the rain that had begun to pour from the sky.

That's the first time I saw her. Y/n. Her eyes lit up the moment they met mine and unlike every human I'd ever come across before, she expressed joy and happiness when met with the pitiful sight of my beat up body.