Kurty (Kurt Cobain x Reader)

"YOU ARE A STUPID FUCKING BITCH"

A/N: TW (abuse verbal/physical/alcohol abuse etc)

I knew this was going to be messy and that didn't trouble me. What bugged me is Kurt was sitting right next to the OPEN window. He's going to hear EVERYTHING. I also wasn't sure how drunk she was. I walked in the front door to see my mom sitting in the kitchen drinking. I knew she was plastered. "fuck," I muttered under my breathe. "Lookk what the catt draggedd inn" The slurring would've made it tough to understand but I had gotten used to it. 

"Hi I had just gone on a walk then hung out with a friend" I just wanted to walk to my room.  "You? friends that's hilarious, kids nowadays are willing to hang out with fucking failures all willy nilly huh" I fucking hated her. I fucking hate her. I want to drive my fist so far into her thick skull.

 "I am NOT a failure I am more intelligent than you will EVER be" I hissed through my teeth knowing I should've stayed quiet. Knowing this was where the yelling begins and the fist is thrown I sighed. "YOU ARE A STUPID FUCKING BITCH" She charged towards me.

 fuck.

Here we go again. She threw a punch at my ribs. That fucking hurt like a bitch. From being piss fucking drunk she fell over and I ran to my room. I made it. I made it. I locked the door quickly to avoid more blows to my precious flesh.

Before I collapsed against the door emotionally and physically exhausted I let off one anger-induced punch to my wall imagining it was the bitch I live with. I don't want to call her mom anymore. I started to cry a little bit covering my bruised skin. 

Kurt climbs in the window being careful to not fuck up his guitar and slumped right down onto my couch making himself at home. "well that was a shit show" He awkwardly laughed not seeing me literally on the fucking floor. "sweetheart?- Omg what the fuck, are you okay? Did she fucking hit you? Did you punch your wall?! y/n what the fuck?" Kurt drops everything to grab me. He stumbles a little because I'm dead weight due to exhaustion but he's a strong dude so he had no problem he was just caught off guard. He drops me off on the sofa.

He grabs my hand and uses a dirty towel I had laying in my messy room. "sweetheart, may I?' He tugs at my shirt to lift it. He had no foul intention he seriously was obviously too much of a sweet guy to do that. He lifts my shirt just high enough to see my belly. "Holy shit" He saw the clean fist-sized bruise and others healing along with it.

...