Corpse Husband One-shots

Unlucky*

floofies hehe this is a two parter :P second part is named "lucky me"

Author: https://thefanficmonster.tumblr.com/

Corpse Husband x Reader

Warnings: Swearing

Genre: Fluff

Summary: Corpse decides to email back a person who has sent him quite a few creepy stories. She never seems to run out of scary encounters of both sorts: paranormal and stranger-danger. He gets suspicious that the stories are all made up so she can grab his attention, but he's in for a surprise.

U/N - username

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Corpse's POV

I'm looking through my most recent emails from fans. They are all of scary encounters they've allegedly experienced. By now, I've read so many, it's easy to decipher which are real and which are just made up nonsense. Some, I must admit, give me chills. Big props to the people who write those, especially if they are made up. If you can make someone's skin crawl with your twisted, frightening imagination, you have one, for lack of a better term and in the most positive way, fucked up mind.

My cursor lands on the familiar username I see almost every other week. U/N. They have been sending stories consistently for about three years now. They, and I'm saying they cause you can never be sure who's hiding behind the username, are either the most unlucky person to walk the planet or the one with most twisted imagination and story telling skills. I'll admit, sometimes I narrate a story just because it's well written. Believability is not the only thing I go by, I also reward creativity. And this person, U/N, has had their spot in many of my videos in the last three years. I'm honestly hoping they are made up, or at least some of them, because not only are there too many of them, but none of them fail to give me that eerie paranoia after I read them or the chills while I read them.

Once again, they have submitted a downright terrifying story. It would be a shame if I didn't narrate it.

It would be a shame if I....

If I never actually meet them.

This many run-ins with people with malicious intent, always getting away by some miracle, what if they one day don't make it out alive to tell it.

My heart sinks a little at the thought. I feel like I know this person, like we've known each other for three years now. They know the things the whole internet knows about me, and I, along with my regular watchers, know their stories. That's by no means enough, now that I think about it.

My next action is really out of character for me. I decide to reach out to them. My fingers fly over the buttons on my keyboard too fast for my rational side to try and stop them. Deep down, I know I'm doing the rightest wrong thing I've ever done. My previously sunk heart is now in its assigned spot again, beating quickly.

You don't know what you're doing

I maybe don't, but knowing isn't what's important right now. I just wanna do it.

~ Hey, this is probably, what, your twentieth story so far. I'm just curious, how many of these are made up? By the way, your stories are amazing and I'll probably keep narrating them even if they aren't real. They're just that good.

I send the email before I can talk myself out of it. I get up from my chair immediately afterwards, putting as much distance between me and the computer as possible, silently promising myself I won't be checking my mail every five minutes.

Y/N's POV

I anxiously refresh and refresh my email inbox, waiting for the dreaded email back from my professor. Being halfway through the college experience, I know how tough this professor's class is and how much I suck at it. I sent him my completed assignment last night, barely making the deadline mind you, so now I'm sweating hardcore, staring my computer screen down.

After refreshing for the millionth time, I'm met with a new email which makes my heart stop for a second or two, my stomach dropping. Then I take the time to read the sender's name, the subject and the first sentence of the email, and all the previous changes in me reverse. My heartbeat picks up speed, going faster than a galloping horse and my stomach turns, making me feel the sensation everyone calls 'butterflies'.

Nah, man. This shit ain't real. It can't be.

But then again, what if it is. What if I'm about to full-on ignore my favorite youtuber because of my paranoia. Well, it's not exactly unsupported. My life has been a shit show of unfortunate event and situations I've literally had to claw my way out of in order to stay alive. Now, when something of the sort happens, it's just another weekday. However, I still wanna share these encounters. Not only because they are proof of the dangers girls have to deal with on a daily basis, but they also get narrated by one of my favorite people ever. What more can a girl ask for?

~ Listen, I'm really not looking forward to getting catfished. Please leave me alone

It's short, not sweet, and to the point. It's easy to understand, and it clearly states that I'm not falling for it if it's a scam, but if it's real....someone call 911 cause I think I'll faint.

~ I get it, you have trust issues. But that's understandable. From the creepy guy messaging you on all your social media. To the stalker you had from you high school, or even that teacher that turned out to not be a teacher at all and just a pedo, I see where the lack of trust is coming from. But I assure you, they only thing I wanna do is chat.

The shock and happiness overwhelm me when the reply arrives not even ten minutes later.

Holy shit, this is him.

I start typing and then erase the typed half-sentence at least three times before receiving another email from him. From Corpse Husband. Corpse freaking Husband. How the fuck am I supposed to compose myself enough to reply to him, let alone sound cool and leave a good impression.

My hand shakes as I click the newly received email.

~ You probably don't know what to say. Either that or you just don't wanna talk to me. If you're just baffled and surprised, reply with your name. If you want me to fuck off, ignore this email completely.

The smile I didn't realize was there grows into a grin as small bursts of laughter escape me. Laughter caused by disbelief and shock. The type of laugh you let out when you score a good mark on the test you thought you completely fucked up.

~ Y/N. My name's Y/N.

PS: The stories are all 100% real. All happened. In the order I sent them too. And before you ask, I guess I'm just unlucky, but you are proving me wrong right now.

I don't know where that confidence at the end came from, but I don't care really. All that matters is that this might just actually be happening and it might be the best thing to ever happen to me.

~ Man, you've had it rough. Tell me, is there an easier way to access you than email. Like Insta DMs? I feel we have a lot to talk about and email is not the most convenient.

At this point, it feel so much like a fever dream that I decide to treat it as though it is. I just go with the flow.

~ Yeah, but first.....am I really not being catfished right now?

The email I receive as a reply to this message is empty of text but there's a file attached. Not gonna lie, I am a bit hesitant to open it, but I decide that if this turns bad, I'll just have to deal with it. In the meantime, I'll believe it's not a scam.

It's an audio file: "No, Y/N, you are not being catfished."

That voice. That god damn voice. It could convince me of anything.

And now it's convinced me into believing him. And finally letting out that squeal I was holding back before sending him my Instagram username.