#ghostbur x reader

paring: ghostbur x fem!reader

summary: A short little blurb about cuddling ghostbur during a rainstorm.

authors note: I wanted to write ghostbur cuddling me because i was sad and needed comfort. i haven’t written anything for this bean so i wanted to change that. i was listening to this song and came up with the idea, ignore any mistakes i wrote this so quick on my phone i hope you guys like it :) (the tank top fic is coming guys i promise!!)

warnings: fluff, cuddling, reader is kinda depressed, ghostbur being soft, unedited!

Pairing : Ghostbur x Afab!Genderfluid!Reader

Reader was doing fine! Perfect actually, Until they weren't. They had spotted a glimpse of themselves in the mirror and just the strongest wave of gender dysphoria smacks them in the face. They felt perfectly fine being feminine a few days ago! But, you can never predict or expect fluctuations. (Speaking from experience ngl-) Ghosty boi comforts them, helps them, Over all ghosty being the sweetest little tall ghost guy!

More masculine pet names. Sfw, nsfw, either one, Which ever you want to make.

If you do nsfw, softdom!ghostbur and sub!Reader

All the rest is in your talented hands to write :)

Back to my usual soft, fluffy requests. For now. The brain worms are slowly munching away my two brain cells :3

- Anon-☆

The day started fine.

A little cold, maybe, but Ghostbur had made you tea (some strange lavender blend he swore “smelled like nostalgia”) and the sunlight spilling in through the cracked-open curtains felt tolerable. Comforting, even.

You had your hoodie on—oversized, obviously, stolen from one of the many laundry baskets in Ghostbur’s pocket-dimension-cottage—and your favorite sweatpants. The kind that sit right on your hips and don’t betray you with a sudden shift from comfy to dysphoria-triggering halfway through the day.

You’d even laughed earlier. Real laughter, from your chest. You were doing fine.

Until you weren’t.

It happened fast. Too fast to build defenses.

Just a casual turn toward the mirror as you reached for your phone, and— There. That familiar spike in your chest. That alien, jagged ache you couldn’t quite name except by what it wasn’t. The face staring back didn’t feel like you. Too soft. Too feminine. Too— Wrong.

You didn’t cry. Not right away. You just froze.

The weight of your body sank in all at once. Arms suddenly felt too shapely, your jaw not sharp enough, your chest—fuck, you didn't want to think about your chest. All the softness that had felt safe yesterday now felt like a costume you couldn’t unzip.

You barely heard Ghostbur float in.

He always announced himself gently, never wanted to startle you. A soft hum came first, like the echo of a lullaby long forgotten.

"Darling?"

You didn't respond.

He hovered closer. You felt the cold first—his presence always dropped the temperature around you like the world forgot to breathe. A comfort, usually.

"Hey… my strong one," he said gently, voice like a sweater worn thin from overuse. "You okay?"

You couldn’t answer. Just stared at your reflection with growing dread.

Ghostbur followed your gaze. Quiet for a second.

Then: "Ah. That look again."

You blinked, and your breath finally escaped in a slow exhale, shaky and raw.

"I'm not—" You swallowed. "I don't look right. I don’t feel right."

Ghostbur drifted closer, slow and intentional, like approaching a scared animal.

"You're not wrong, sweetheart," he said. "You're just… tilted. Like a picture frame knocked a little off its nail. Still your picture. Still you."

He didn’t reach out—not yet. Just let you speak.

"I felt fine this week. I was okay with… this. Being soft. Wearing skirts. Now I just—I hate it. And I can’t stop seeing all the things that are wrong and I know it’s not my fault, I know, but I just—" You choked on it. "I want it gone. I want meback. The me that makes sense."

And finally, finally, Ghostbur reached out and cupped the back of your head, cold fingers tangling in your hair, grounding.

"You are so valid, my handsome boy," he murmured. "It’s okay to shift. To change. That doesn’t make you any less real."

Your knees gave a little, and he caught you before you could fully collapse. He always caught you.

"Hey, hey. There you go. I got you," he soothed. “C’mere, let me hold you, my brave lad.”

He led you away from the mirror, wrapping you in his arms like a weighted blanket made of grief and starlight. He kissed your temple, his lips cold but somehow still the warmest part of the day.

"Want me to get rid of the mirror for now?" he asked.

You nodded into his shoulder.

Poof. Gone.

You clung to him like a raft in the rising tide of your thoughts.

"You're still you," he whispered. "Whether you’re feeling soft or sharp. Whether you want to be called ‘pretty’ or ‘handsome’ or ‘sir.’ I’ll call you whatever makes you feel most you, alright?"

You didn’t trust your voice, so you nodded again.

He pulled back just enough to look at you, his ethereal glow casting soft blues across your cheekbones.

"I’m so proud of you," he said, voice thick. "It’s not easy to exist in-between. But you do it with so much courage."

You finally found your voice. Weak but steady.

"Can you just… stay with me?"

Ghostbur smiled like a break in the clouds.

"Always, my strong knight."

And when you crawled under the thick quilt together—still wrapped in his arms, his voice humming some nonsense lullaby against your back—you finally let yourself breathe.

By the River

Ghostbur x Reader Fluff!! Can be seen as Platonic or Romantic!

Warning: Nope!

-

You don’t remember the last time you’d hung out with a friend. Let alone the ghost of one of your closest friends, Wilbur! It wasn’t the same, obviously. Every time you reached for his hand, you were met with an almost cold feeling in his palms and had to pull away. It was sad, you couldn’t even kiss him hello without having to pull your lips away almost immediately.

Even now, it was no different, as you walked past a river, wherever it was. Hold on, when did this server even have a river? -

sst!

𝐏𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐞 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝 𝐑𝐮𝐥𝐞𝐬

Greetings again my dear, this is absolutely adorable than you 🤍

I hope you don't mind but I would like you to be my first Anon, perhaps a feather for you given your first request of the swan. These are so creative and educational at the same time. I truly enjoy them

<><><><><><><><><><><>

Pog!Bur

"Ehm...what are you doing?" Wilbur looked down at his feet where you had flopped onto your stomach. The delicate ears of your hybrid trait spread out like a rug beside your head.

"I don't know...it just felt right." You mumbled and shut your eyes.

"I-" Wilbur stared at you, his pickaxe still in his hands. "You're going to get rocks all in your ears darling, let's go back." He sighed and lifted you up from the stony floor. Being a rabbit hybrid also came with the perk of being exceptionally small when curled up and extremely light as well.

L'man!Bur

Wilbur stroked your ear softly, careful to avoid going too far down lest he disturb you from your focus point of the feathery quill in your hands.

"Mmmm..." You hummed and flopped back into his lap, closing your eyes with a smile up at him.

"Darling? Darling what are you doing?" Wilbur chuckled and put his hand on the top of your head.

"It's so nice here, just with you. Its been a while since we were safe." You opened an eye and grinned with a light chuckle.

"Do you feel safe then? With me?" Wilbur smirked mischieviously.

"Of course." You didn't know the irony those words held, or the pain this memory would bring you later on.

Phantom!Bur

It was just him in The Pub(e) and you came in looking weary from the climb up to the parlor. When you came in he smiled absently and continued to sort through the loose loot left in the meeting place.

"Good, its just you." You sighed and fell right to the floor. The words alone had made Wilbur uneasy but then your body thunked agianst the wood and he jumped into his vanish form.

"Y/N?!" He poked his head out from the floor he had phased through and climbed on top the planks till he stood by your laying form.

"Are you alright?" He laughed and sat down by your head, gentle knuckles caressed your fluffy hair.

"So tired..." You huffed and leaned into his careful touch. His cheeks flushed a dark blue and he didn't dare move.

Ghost!Bur

You sighed and huffed and Ghost paused his potion watching in opting to watch you on his sewer floor.

"What's wrong?" He asked slowly and stared confused at you.

"I forget how quiet things can be." You sat up and got to your feet, your usually curled short legs extending to much greater lengths fit for running.

"Would you like me to talk?" Ghostbur was excited. Most people told him to shut up.

"Yes please." Your eyes lit up and you sat back onto the damp floor, patiently awaiting the ghost's story of the day.

"Well, once I had a dream that-" Ghostbur began his ramble of conversations he never got to have, or that he had with himself. Thoughts poured from his mouth and you absorbed it like a sponge.

He finished a story and you flopped into his lap, your soft ears sprawling onto his legs. You smiled and looked up at him like a lost puppy.

"What's wrong?" Ghostbur cupped your face with his blue stained hands. You smiled and relaxed into his palms.

"This is so nice." You said and closed your eyes. He kissed your head with a smile and continued with his stories, but quieter in case you fell to sleep.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Title: The Swan Song

Tw: Death, grief

><><><><><><><><><><><>

It was beautiful, what Ghostbur had cultivated with you. Every brush of your lame wings against icy skin was heaven and every stolen kiss a fragment of the love that blossomed from the dead and living.

"I'll be right back, it's just a small favor. Tommy promises it'll be fine.” Ghostbur swore and pressed his head to yours with a smile. 

“Please be careful ‘Bur.” You muttered and pulled him close. The black that masked over your eyes shone in the setting sun and soon the party would set out to kill Dream. The man who had taken everything from your loved one and condemned him to a hellish afterlife.

“Always my love.” Ghostbur said cheerfully and tucked a cornflower behind your ear as a parting gift. A promise to return to your arms.

| Afterwards |

“Y/N?” Tommy’s voice was sullen and water dripped from his hair, no doubt from swimming in the lagoon that surrounded the awful prison.

“Tommy?” You looked up at his sorrowful eyes. They were red from tears that still ran down his cheeks. It worried you and the downy feathers that clung to your flightless wings drooped.

“I-I’m sorry.” Tommy broke down and avoided your eyes.

“Why?” You asked and your brow furrowed. “Why, Tommy?! Where’s Ghostbur?” 

Silence followed your question.

“Where is he Tommy?!” You shouted and a bleating sound of a sheep answered you from outside. 

“Dream...he killed him.” Tommy sobbed and pulled Friend close. Even the sheep looked pitiful with it’s wool soaked and eyes saddened without it’s owner to pet and hug him.

“He’s dead, Y/N. I’m so sorry. It wasn’t supposed to happen this way.” Tommy cried and your heart broke. Physically in your chest something shattered open and your breath caught in your throat as tears sprang up.

Darkness closed in quickly and nothing came to stop you from sobbing and screaming of your lost love. Someone you’d lost twice now. It was too much. Wilbur wasn’t coming back...

| Later On |

The sunrise was glorious. It painted everything as beautifully as he remembered and now it was just a matter of time before he saw you. He ran every step to your house. Ever leap of his feet drew him closer to the love of his life, his death, and now his resurrection.

He would never be alone again. It was time he kept you at his side. Long after it even.

“Y/N! I’m back!” He burst through your door with overjoyed excitement to only be met with darkness. No candles lit your bookshelves and the smell of dust had already accumulated in your home.

“Y/N?”  Wilbur called out and found a decaying cornflower laying in the middle of your entry way. It was surrounded by the downy feathers he had always loved and as he picked up each one, along with the flower, something pricked in his chest. A worrisome emotion.

So he ran again. He searched and searched and searched again until he found the bravest man he knew, and the only one he thought that might know where you had ran off to.

“Wil, mate...” Phil’s eyes clouded with sorrow and Wilbur’s heart dropped. He clutched the feathers desperately in hope that was sure to plummet.

“She died...” His father finally spoke out and Wilbur’s world crashed down. “She loved you so much Wil, but a heart guarded for so long is so very delicate.”

Philza lowered his son into a chair and took the limp cornflower from his loosened grip. 

“She couldn’t take losing you a second time with Ghostbur.” Phil said slowly and crouched before him. The dark broken wings on his back stretched towards his son and Wilbur fell into his father’s chest with heaving breaths and sobbing eyes.

“I loved her, Phil. I never got to tell her I was back. She could’ve been fine, if I’d just been faster.” Wilbur sobbed and Phil wrapped dark feathers around him.

“It’s not your fault Wil,” Philza promised and shushed his son gently. “There was nothing you could’ve done. She’s gone, and I’m so sorry.”

Legend paints the story that Wilbur cried for two days straight in his father’s arms and dedicated his life to eradicating Dream’s plans and his life was pulled apart little by little. Stories say that the once mighty general, turned ghost, turned man alive again, mourned the loss of his love long after her death.

He traveled all of The Greater Dream SMP with feathers tucked behind his ears and made into a necklace with a single blue petal preserved against his chest. He fought alongside his brother and protected his home. He played music and amended his wrong doings all in her memory. Wilbur inhabited the former house of Y/N L/N and even tended to the sheep that formerly belonged to his spirited form. 

Wilbur mourned and loved. He left for Utah with those feathers and necklace of down and a single petal. Legend says he will be buried in them and rejoice only when he is reunited in the afterlife with his love where he will protect her heart from ever breaking again.