Corpse Husband x Reader Oneshots {Request Only!}

Arguments pt. 2

(y'all really like arguments

Recap: finally feeling good about your body after SA and being able to wear a revealing outfit, you go to the club with your friends, but Corpse blows up at you about neglecting his need for help, even though he's hid his flair up from you. You broke up with him.

Corpse curled up on the arm of the couch, scrolling through your Instagram. Your recent posts after the break up we're your usual, motivational posts, selfies of your bright smile, and pictures from the night you left him. You looked damn good.

Since that night Corpse had a lot of regrets, but he didn't try and text you, he didn't find that there would be a point.

Your things were still in his apartment. You had messaged him about coming to get it, but he never responded.

But he felt he needed too, finally. So he found all your things and gently packed them up, then messaged you about grabbing them.

A few hours later, a knock rapped on his door and he spotted you upon answering, you wore  hoodie, with messy hair, and you looked tired. Like you had been crying.

He side stepped to let you in and pointed to your stuff, "It's all in there."

You grabbed your stuff and made your way back to the door he still held open, Corpse moved a hand to stop you, "(Y/n), can we talk?"

You shook your head, "No Corpse. You messed up, you messed up and now I'm gone. There's nothing to discuss."

Corpse almost broke down again, "But (y/n)-"

"Corpse! Stop! I've made up my mind, now let me go." You swore under your breath and left his apartment.

Corpse shut the door and ran his fingers through his hair, his vision blurring with tears. His breath was quick, and he wandered over to the kitchen, grabbing his half-full-vodka and sinking to the floor, taking a to long swig, letting it burn his throat and between his eyes.

It was only a matter of time before the rest of the bottle was finished and he was nothing but a heap of drunken sobs on the floor. Only getting up to vomit in the sink a few times.

....

You sat in your car, you stared at your wheel for a while before suddenly striking it's edge with the heel of your hand, swearing with tears in your eyes once more.

You turned up the music in your radio to hide your sobs. The upbeat pop didn't fit your situation, but it was better then the silence, you couldn't help but cover your hand and let your loud sobs go, they were the kid that hit the gravel of your voice. The painful cries of someone who's lost everything.

It took you more then a few pop songs to calm down enough to safely drive. Your jacket sleeve was soaked with tears and snot, but you focused more on leaving before you made a mistake.

(Haha they don't get back together.... Unless y'all want a pt. 3