Shiver
@gottagetshiver
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Writer of DNF fics in my spare time. 29, yes I’m old pls don’t rub it in 😔
Joined March 2022
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George is not one to talk feelings, He’d much rather cure any bad moods through laughter and jokes.
Normally, it works like a charm.
However, tonight Dream needs something more, something George struggles to give.
He needs to talk.
A DNF 🧵Fic
(1/21)
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2K
Dream's long since learned to push aside any notice of the differences between him and George in terms of size.
He should be immune to casual comments about it by now.
After all, the size kink thing is just a joke, right?
...Right?
// SUGGESTIVE
A dnf 🧵fic
(1/25)
8
87
2K
George is at his breaking point.
For months, he's put up with Dream waltzing half naked into the kitchen every morning, but his poor, longing heart is struggling now.
That man is going to be the death of him.
//suggestive
a DNF 🧵fic
(1/25)
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107
2K
Dream’s injured, and as per usual, George finds himself having to make sure he tends to his wounds properly.
If only Dream would be honest with him about why it happened in the first place.
If only he would say what he truly feels.
A dnf 🧵fic
(1/23)
4
94
2K
“Dream!” George’s yell echoes through the hall as he and Sapnap kick off their shoes by the door. “We found one!”
“You did?” Dream materializes at the top of the stairs after a moment, hair ruffled up in a way that tells George he must have just woken up.
A DNF 🧵Fic
1/19
6
87
1K
Everyone has their guilty pleasures, it's only natural.
And really, reading isn't even that much of one!
Even if the reading in question is stories about you and your best friend falling in love.
Dream's safe with that, nothing can go wrong.
Right?
//suggestive
A dnf🧵 fic
10
76
1K
Finally in London after all these years of waiting and wanting to see where George, his favourite person, grew up, Dream's miserably stuck in bed, having fallen victim to his shoddy immune system once again.
Luckily, George never stays away for too long.
A dnf 🧵fic
(1/19)
3
66
1K
Dream knows George is beautiful, everyone does. It's old news, really. Grass is green, the sky is blue, and George is beautiful.
And yet, sometimes, it's like he's seeing him for the first time all over again.
And this first time is starting to feel a little like love.
a DNF🧵
7
56
1K
George thinks it's fair, to be scared of confirming anything.
After all, it's big news. Big, big news.
At the same time though, he needs people to know how desperately in love with Dream he is.
He'll just have to find a way to tell the fans, without telling them.
A DNF 🧵Fic
9
77
1K
Despite this *technically* being his second birthday in Florida, George can't help but feel like it's the first true one.
The first one where no one is sick.
The first one where everyone is together.
And, finally, the first one where Dream is there to love him.
a DNF 🧵fic
4
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996
Anyways I love these three and the amount of comfort and joy they’ve brought me over the last couple years is immeasurable 💜
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After a long day out and about streaming at the Santa Monica Pier, George comes to a realization about what he wants.
//Suggestive
A DNF 🧵fic
(1/19)
2
62
831
They're finally ready.
After all these months, it's time for the fans to finally know the truth.
That Dream and George are so, so desperately in love.
And they've slowly discovered the perfect way to announce that love to the world.
a DNF🧵Fic
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785
New fic, new fic!!
"Goodnight, Good morning"
~Explicit
~Oneshot, 12k
~Dream tries too hard to be polite and nearly ruins everything
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“The fandom is dying, why is there so much less art and fewer fics nowadays???😩”
Idk maybe cause you goofy goobers keep mass harassing anyone who doesn’t create things perfectly aligned with your personal morals like yikes on bikes you guys where is the media literacy.
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I’m being so entirely normal about him, absolutely no unholy thoughts whatsoever
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I watched like 30 seconds of dnf standing next to each other and now I’m plugging in my laptop to get back to writing after like a week of writers block
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It’s comfortable as Dream adjusts the blankets, carefully tucking George in with a kiss to his cheek.
It feels absolutely right as they drift off to sleep in each others arms.
And under the less watchful, but freer eye of the moon, George thinks this is where he’s meant to be.
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George cups his cheeks in his hands and smooths the pads of his thumbs across his skin. "But I'm your dumbass, aren't I?"
Dream dives right back in for another kiss, smiling too hard to make it good.
"Yeah, George. All mine."
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It's not fair. It's just not fair.
George has done nothing wrong, and yet he has to endure this punishment? Every single day?
Ever morning of his life now, since he's moved to Florida, Dream has tortured him.
Unfortunately, he's entirely unaware he's doing so.
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And that's a wrap!
Dream said he sleeps in boxers during tonight's space and, well, I went a little rabid.
Gonna go a little more rabid over on my priv, so check that out sometime tomorrow 👀
*Reminder that my priv is 18+ and no age in bio = request denied!!*
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"Waiting For You"
~Oneshot, 6.7k
~Explicit
Dream gets interrupted during some personal time while they're in Madrid.
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Dream has imagined kissing George many times, but none of it comes close to the real thing.
The real George has soft, demanding lips and isn't afraid to use his teeth.
The real George pushes into him, asking for more.
The real George is amazing, and perfect.
And his.
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"So are you going to kiss me now, or do I have to endure another eight months of the torture of watching you waltz around the house barely dressed?"
A laugh bursts from Dream's chest, and he ducks to rest his forehead in the crook of George's neck. "I'm sorry."
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"I am," He answers. "Elaborate on why that's different."
"You're /George/." Dream whispers, reaching out and brushing his fingers across George's waist. "Everything's different with you."
George's pulse thunders in his ears. "It is?"
"Yeah," Dream's smile is bright. "It is."
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He's a hot sleeper, George knows this. He's heard plenty of complaints over the years about even a light sheet making Dream sweat buckets overnight.
So really, it shouldn't have been surprising to move in and discover that Dream sleeps in nothing but a pair of boxers.
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Dream has a look adjacent to fear in his eyes as George steps closer. "What're you-"
"I don't know," George murmurs. "Tell me."
Dream's gulp is audible.
"You're well, um..."
"Take your time." George encourages softly, "I'm listening."
"You're George," Dream says simply.
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"Make it up to me," George demands, threading his fingers into Dream's hair and giving an experimental tug.
"With pleasure," Dream breathes, and then they're kissing.
There's no fireworks like how George thought there might be, no.
All he feels is peace. Full, complete peace.
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“Yeah, should be delivered early next week.” George’s brows pull together at his friend’s stiffened posture. “Don’t look at me like that, you finally get what you want! You’ll get your mattress back.”
“Yeah, I guess. That is what I want.” Dream says, looking down.
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George feels the blood rush to his cheeks as Dream grins.
"What're you looking at me like that for?" He asks, a little too softly.
"I wasn't looking at you like anything." George snaps, but looks away quickly anyways. The perils of being known, he can't get away with anything.
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Immediately, Dream’s grip around his waist tightens.
“I’m not done with you yet,” he says, yawning, and George is so very glad his face is hidden as he blushes fiercely.
He’s heard that it’s unwise to make important decisions late at night, that you can’t trust yourself then.
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George beams when he sees nothing but raw honestly in Dream's soft gaze and steps closer, letting his shaky hands trail up the other's bare chest and rest on his shoulders.
"Everything's different with you for me, too." He whispers, wrapping his arms around Dream's neck.
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However, as it is, he spends every morning resolutely studying the countertop to keep himself from getting lost in the long lines of muscle spanning Dream's back, or the soft looking skin of his chest, or heaven forbid, the plushness of his thighs.
it's not fair.
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"That's fine," George sighs, tipping his head back to give Dream easier access. "I can look as much as I want now, so I no longer have any complaints to file."
The comment earns him a nip.
"Dumbass," Dream chides affectionately.
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Of course he would, it makes total sense. He already runs warm, why add more clothes that would only accentuate the problem?
And really, it wouldn't be an issue if it weren't for George's own hang ups.
If it weren't for the endless days spent pining for his best friend.
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"I guess it's like," Dream starts, waving his spoon through the air as he searches for the right words. "It doesn't feel like we're roommates since Sapnap may as well be my brother, and you're, well..."
He cuts himself off with a nervous chuckle. "You know."
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Dream's other hand also moves to hold George's waist and pulls him close, pounding heart to pounding heart.
"Good," he says, hot breath fanning across George's cheeks. "Glad we're on the same page with that."
George thinks he's never felt joy quite like this.
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Now that piques George's interest.
"No, I don't know." He says, looking up."What am I to you then, if not a roommate and not a brother?"
Dream rolls his eyes. "George, come on."
"No," George says, rising from the where he's been seated and stepping around the island."Tell me."
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A DNF in antarctica fic for you all :)
"Of Penguins And Reverence"
-Explicit (ish?)
-Dream gets too cold, George helps him warm back up
-Penguins are a catalyst for love
Hope you guys like it!
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"What other definition could there possibly be?" It feels safe to look up as long as he doesn't let himself look anywhere but Dream's eyes. Maybe his forehead and nose too, to make the eye contact less intense. Maybe also his chin. His chin in safe.
Maybe his lips, as well.
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“The Best Bad Idea”
Secret Santa fic for
@sageafk
:)
~Rated Teen
~13k
When Dream joins George in England for his family’s Christmas, whispered late night words blossom into a lesson that turns into everything George was ever scared to want.
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They break apart, staring at each other in awe, before Dream peppers kisses across George's cheek and along his jaw, pulling giggles out of him.
"I'm still not going to get dressed for breakfast." Dream says, voice muffled by George skin between his lips. "It's still dumb."
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Dream didn’t come home when he said he would.
George had been waiting, lounging on the sofa and watching the door, at 5:15 sharp. It wasn’t until nearly 6 that the text came through.
“Stuck at the studio, be home late.”
Dream hadn’t come home for dinner, either.
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Dream scoffs. "You guys aren't really roommates though."
"How are we not roommates?" George asks, chancing a glance up to meet Dream's gaze. "We're a bunch of people who live in one house together."
"Ok, well," Dream laughs, rolling his eyes. "Maybe by that definition we are."
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The door finally rattles open, and George yells and leaps forward, only to be met with…
Nothing.
Dream barely reacts, the slight raising of his brows the only indication he even sees George.
He shuts the recording off immediately.
“You ok?” He asks, head cocked to the side.
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Groaning under his breath, George turns his focus back to the designs flowing through the marble. He knows they're random, the product of millennia of geological forces, but after all these months, his mind is tricking him into seeing patterns in them.
They all look like Dream.
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“Then come to my bed, and you won’t need to be done with me.”
Maybe it’ll feel like a big thing in the morning, when he hasn’t been awake for 20 hours.
He doubts it, though. It feels far too natural, far too easy for regrets or second thoughts.
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"Is it really that much trouble to get dressed before you come downstairs?" He asks grumpily as he trains his eyes on the granite by reflex. His cereal sits untouched and growing soggy, appetite now elsewhere.
"That would be dumb," Dream says, pawing through the fridge.
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He clears his throat. "You were explaining how us, three single and unrelated guys, living together doesn't make us roommates?"
Dream snorts around a mouthful of his food. "You're an idiot, I didn't say we're /not/ roommates."
"You kind of did, though." George says, grinning.
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George has a way of moving through the house silently. Often even more so than Patches, who's prone to announcing her arrival with chirps and meows.
George doesn't do that. He arrives as silently as shadows.
"That was an annoying mod." He announces, scaring Dream half to death.
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Or the movie night they’d had planned, or even by the time Sapnap sauntered off to bed.
It wasn’t until midnight that George sent him a simple text of a question mark, growing both frustrated and concerned.
“Sorry, home around 1.”
So, George parks himself back on the sofa.
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Dream hums, kicking his shoes off haphazardly and staggers over to the sofa, letting himself fall over the back of it and heavily onto the cushions.
“I’m fine.” He says, short. “Just a long day.”
George fusses with his hands by the door. He hates seeing Dream stressed like this
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"I always shower after breakfast, why get dressed now only to get undressed in half an hour?" Dream asks as he cocks his head , staring George down as he scoops yoghurt into a bowl.
"It's just common decency when you have roommates, Dream." George snarks.
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George frowns. “Maybe it doesn’t in the grand scheme of things, but it matters to you right now. It’s ok to be upset.”
Dream grunts noncommittally, closing his eyes. He looks absolutely fried.
“What can I do to help,?” George asks softly. “What do you need?”
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It’s not news to him that Dream sometimes gets obsessive with work, often to the point of overdoing it and wearing himself thin. By the lack of emoji use in his texts, he can tell that his friend is stressed.
Watching the moon rise through the window, George comes up with a plan
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He thinks it's easy to fall into their comfortable back and forth and distract himself from how Dream stands before him nearly naked, hips leaned back against the countertop without in a care in the world.
Or rather, it was easy.
It was also short lived.
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Something’s off, George doesn’t need to be Dream’s best friend to tell.
The slump of his shoulders, the weak smile before he turns and heads back to his room, the way his feet drag along the carpet miserably.
It doesn’t make sense. He’s been on George’s case for months.
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It’s nice, finally having his friends around to cuddle with. It’s especially nice having Dream to cuddle with. He’d been so very lonely and touch starved in London.
Now, he grins into Dream’s sweater and nuzzles in closer, buzzing with the knowledge that he’s never leaving this.
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Eventually, Dream starts to wiggle and shift.
“My back hurts.” He grumbles, “This is not a good couch for sleeping.”
As much as George doesn’t want to get up, doesn’t want to leave Dream’s embrace, he has to agree. It’s terribly uncomfortable.
“Maybe we should go our to beds.”
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Chuckling, George shifts to lay down facing him and curls up against Dream’s broad chest, letting himself be pulled in tightly.
They lay there for a long while. A very long while. George is sure Dream will fall asleep, but the hand gliding up and down his spine never stills.
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Stayed wrapped in Dream’s embrace every night, waking in the same embrace every morning
Quite contentedly, too. George would have happily stayed forever. He would have gladly spent the rest of his life waking up in that bed.
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“Nothing,” the reply is muffled, spoken into the fabric.
“Liar.” George scolds softly. “Try again.”
Groaning, Dream rolls over and stares George down with bloodshot eyes.
“It’s not a big deal, we just have to change some stuff with the timeline. It doesn’t matter.”
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He needs to talk.
As much as he doesn’t like it, Dream needs it.
Sighing, George relaxes his shoulders and walks to the sofa, leaning over the back and resting his palm on Dream’s shoulder blade as he lays face down.
“Talk to me,” he whispers. “What happened?”
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203
Normally a prank or joking around is enough to lighten his mood and get him out of his funk, but this time it hasn’t even made a dent in Dream’s sad demeanour.
He’s going to need a new plan, one he wrinkles his nose at the thought of.
He know’s exactly what Dream needs
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At 12:58, he hears the slam of a car door closing outside, followed by slow footsteps and then the jingling of keys.
He launches into his position behind the door, pulling his phone out to film. Dream’s always so animated when he’s scared, it’ll be a good, funny clip at least.
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The way that even on his tip toes, George can't quite reach the top shelf in the kitchen cabinets. How when Dream cages him against the counter and reaches up for him, he can encase his whole frame against his chest, block him from anything other than the beating of their hearts.
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Your critical thinking and judgement is shot in the wee hours of the morning, and anything meaningful should be decidied under the watchful eyes of the sun.
But somehow, it doesn’t feel like a big decision to lean back, touch his fingertips to Dream’s jaw, and whisper,
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"I did," Dream admits in a rasp "I really liked it."
"Though so," George murmurs, knotting his fingers into the soft hair at Dream's nape. Barely an inch apart now, breathing the same air, George whispers the words that change everything.
"How about we make it a reality, then?"
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Dream doesn’t answer with words, he doesn’t need to. The soft smile on his face is enough, as well as the tender way he laces his fingers in George’s as he rises to his feet and they walk shoulder to shoulder down the hall.
It’s easy as they fall into the bed, snuggled up again.
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“I need… I just…” Dream trails off, instead reaching his arms up silently.
George understands immediately, smiling to himself as he rounds the massive sofa and sits beside Dream’s chest.
“George,” Dream complains, one of his arms winding loosely around his waist and tugging.
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"Size ki- George!" He splutters, cheeks heating up.
"You don't know anything at all about people saying I'm just so much smaller than you, that you're so big," George says, voice going low and smooth. "Sure thing. I totally believe you."
Dream stares at him, gobsmacked.
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"Christ, George," He exclaims, clutching at his chest as he spins his chair away from his desk to watch his friend as he waltzes into the office. "You can't just sneak up on me like that."
Shrugging, George flops down on Dream's day bed. "Listen better next time, idiot."
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"Things That Go Bump In The Night"
~Oneshot, 5.1k
~Explicit
When George returns from his time at the conjuring house, he's left scared, unsettled, and questioning everything. He seeks solace in the one person who's always made him feel safe.
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Isn’t that what Dream wanted?
For him to get his own bed to sleep in and move out of his room once and for all?
George stews over it all afternoon, and then stews harder all evening when Dream doesn’t come downstairs to hang out like he usually does.
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“When are you going to get your own mattress?”
“If you need a ride to the store, just say so.”
“This is getting ridiculous George, you can’t do this forever!”
‘Can’t do this’. The phrase bounces around in George’s mind the rest of the day.
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"I was listening just fine," Dream chuckles, relaxing as his heart slows to a normal rhythm. "You're just unnaturally quiet."
"We're not doing that mod again," George interjects. "I don't care how many views it gets, I refuse."
"Take it up with Sapnap," Dream hums. "Not me."
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Dream settles slowly, body tense as George pulls him to lay down and throws the blankets over him. Sleep, sleep is probably the wise choice right now.
But the second George snuggles up to him, tucking so nearly against his chest, his resolve breaks.
"You're just so small."
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“This” being how, despite having had Dream’s old bed in his room since he moved in, he’s only spent a handful of nights there.
It started innocently enough, they didn’t want to be apart, then when they were travelling every week, it was easier to just change one set of sheets.
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It's driving Dream mad.
Of course he's seen the jokes, the comments, the observations. He knows what people say.
Hearing it from George though, now that's done something to him down to the level of his basic atomic makeup.
His axis is tilted into George's gravity now.
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After that, George had taken to insisting that he was better than having Dream’s hand me downs, and the old mattress was so lumpy, and Dream’s new one was so comfortable, that he just… stayed.
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Except for those little remarks from Dream. The little nags, both on streams and in private, to get his ass in gear and buy a new mattress for himself.
So he did just that. He and Sapnap spent the last few hours testing beds out and ultimately buying one.
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“It is what you wanted, right?”
Dream scoffs again, smiling sadly at his friend. “How could I ever want this? All I’ve ever wanted was the was things were. You and me, here together.”
George sucks in a pained breath.
“But you kept telling me to get a move on, get my own bed.”
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“So does that mean I have a chance of talking you into returning the mattress you bought?” Dream asks, whispered close to George’s ear and sending shivers across his skin.
“Oh yes.” George replies, letting his hands fall from Dream’s shoulders to rest over his heart.
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"You shouldn't want it either, Dream." George huffs. "I know you know what people will say."
"I don't," he says, stretching his arms over his head, shoulders tight from the hours spent filming.
"Right," George drawls. "You don't know anything about the size kink jokes at all."
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“‘Not what I wanted’?” George parrots, incredulous. “Dream, you idiot.”
His friend meets his eyes nervously.
“This is all I wanted, why do you think I kept finding reasons to stay, or why I resisted going out and buying a new mattress for so long?”
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“Yes, I do.” He laughs, wrapping his arms around Dream’s neck and rising up onto his toes so he bury his face in the crook of the taller man’s neck. “I want it all.”
Dream hugs him tightly, and they sway back and forth, until George’s calves start to ache and he pulls away.
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It seems to take a moment for the words to fully register with Dream, but eventually, his eyes widen and he grins. “Really? You want this? Want—”
His words trail off, unspoken, but George can hear them loud and clear anyways.
Want me.
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"Very ok," George whispers, wriggling just enough to be able to lean up and rest his forehead against Dream's. "Took you long enough to figure it out."
Dream pauses. "You...?"
"Yes, you idiot. Why else would I come into your office and play into your size kink? For fun?"
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"I've, uh, got some emails to do." He says, hastily turning back to his desk. "Stop distracting me."
George laugh, quiet and dark, behind him, but does leave the room.
The damage is done though.
Over the next week, all Dream can see is the differences between him and George.
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To his credit, he makes it nearly two weeks before he cracks.
Precisely, he made it until 2am the night Sapnap releases the video.
He'd been doing fine.
Until he opened twitter.
Now, he's standing outside George's door, forehead resting on the wood, wondering if this was in.
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"And you're so big," he whispers, pulling back and reaching to flick his lamp on. "Look,"
He takes Dream's hand and lays it palm to palm with his. His fingertips don't quite reach the last knuckle on Dream's, and his palm is narrower, fingers more slender. Smaller in every way.
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“I can’t believe you went through with it.” He whispers. “I didn’t think you would.”
“Of course I did,” George mutters in reply. “It’s what you wanted.”
Dream snorts, scuffing his toe at the rug.
Oh.
“Dream,” George begins, stepping fully into the room.
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Finally, Sapnap announces he’s going to bed, and George is out of time.
He knocks timidly on Dream’s door.
“George?” Dream calls from inside, justifiably sounding confused since George has always barged right in until now.
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Dream chuckles lowly to himself. “I know.”
“Why?” George crosses the rest of the room, hands reaching to rest on Dream’s shoulders.“If this is what you wanted, why did you try and push me away?”
“It wasn’t what you wanted, so I thought you’d better leave before I got too hurt.”
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The way George's fingers are over an inch off from meeting as he holds a glass, but his wrap around enough to overlap.
how George has to slouch on the sofa to get his feet to reach the coffee table, whereas he can sit up stalk straight and reach it easily.
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“Hey,” George says quietly, staying at the threshold.
“Hey,” Dream replies, voice strained.
They stare at each other in silence for a moment, both stuck in the fog of tension but unsure how to move out of it.
Finally, Dream speaks.
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