... or Dream, Read or Dream fic
The madness continues. Since Read or Dream is a really funny manga, I tried catching the lightheartedness of it in this fic that involves a lot of Maggie, a lot of Michelle (and Michelle's breasts) and a little Anita to balance things out. Enjoy!
Title: ...or Dream
Author: animimares aka shoujo-ai no shijin
Fandom: Read or Dream
Characters: Maggie, Michelle, Anita, some not quite intended Maggie/Michelle if you squint.
Summary: Maggie's not afraid of thunder, she just doesn't like the idea of lying awake all by herself without a book for comfort.
Notes: LOL. Just... LOL.
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... Or Dream
______________________
“Nee-san…” Maggie’s voice is hushed, trying not to disturb Michelle too much despite her original intention with being in her sister’s bedroom in the first place. To wake her up.
No reaction. Michelle doesn’t move a single inch. From this angle it might even look as if she isn’t breathing at all. From her open mouth saliva drips in neat little droplets onto the page she must have been reading right before falling asleep, little by little smearing out the letters as the pool of drool expands and becomes more of a lake.
“Nee-san,” Maggie tries again, this time raising her voice a fraction. As Michelle simply turns her head, smacking her lips contently when her cheek lands directly in the wet spot on her book, Maggie finds herself hoping that this is one of the titles they have an extra copy of. If not, Michelle will surely cause a scene come morning when finding her book ruined which again would start a chain reaction with Anita throwing a fit, tossing their books around, Michelle insisting on buying new ones and Anita consequently starting to kick things… most likely their book shelves - or Michelle. And Maggie would stand uselessly in the middle, trying to calm Anita down while still saving their personal library and bandage Michelle’s wounds.
The circle of doom gives her a headache.
Besides, she hasn’t been allowed to read this particular book yet, Michelle having insisted on keeping it to herself since buying it.
Outside, another flash of lightning slashes the skies, soon followed by a roar of thunder. Unable to finish the thought on the catastrophe of Michelle with a spit-slickened bookmark in her brand new, only twice-read-already copy of “Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows”, Maggie shudders.
Michelle needs to wake up. Or, more accurately, Maggie needs her to wake up. Now.
It isn’t because she’s afraid of thunder. Really, it’s not - at least, it wouldn’t be, if she had had a book she could get lost in. It’s just that she doesn’t like the idea of lying awake all by herself very much. Not in the middle of a storm.
Focusing on Michelle again, watching her as she sleeps with a peaceful, yet delighted expression on her face, Maggie takes a deep breath and mentally prepares for the difficult task of getting her self-installed big sister to awaken. Michelle likes sleeping, Maggie knows; she likes it a lot, often claiming that in Slumberland they never run out of money to spend on books and there’s no one yelling at her for emptying entire book stores.
For a moment, Maggie stops to consider why she can never have nice dreams like that. Usually she simply wakes up with the unnerving feeling that she’s just shown herself naked in front of a huge crowd… A slight warmth creeps into her cheeks at the recollection, but when a lightning bold tears through the darkness, heralding an explosion of sound that crashes in over them like a tsunami only a second or two afterwards, the blood is drained from her face altogether as she pales. Yelping, she makes an instant decision.
Michelle will most certainly forgive her if she finds her in her bed the next morning. For all Maggie knows, it might even help her not to mourn her drool-drenched book too dramatically.
Mostly out of habit, Maggie whispers an apologetic and slightly strained “please excuse me” before climbing into Michelle’s bed. As gently as she can muster, she attempts wrestling a corner of the duvet free from underneath Michelle’s lax body, only managing to get a lock of Michelle’s blonde hair stuck between the pages of the book she’s using for pillow.
Maggie can understand why Anita keeps insisting she’ll never make any friends. She’s so clumsy…
Uttering a not all too elegant grunt, Michelle stirs at last, blinking a couple of times against the dimness of the room. Eyeing Maggie, she raises her head, forced to stop mid-motion when the book tucks non-too-gently at her curls. Somewhat panicked, Maggie reaches out to help untangle the mess of wavy tresses and sticky pages.
“Maggie-chan,” Michelle slurs when she can actually lift her head to meet Maggie’s eyes, even though still half-asleep, she needn’t have bothered, “what are you doing?”
This time blushing crimson, Maggie is about to stand up and mumble her way out of the room, maybe adding a bow to it, just for the emphasis it would add to her show of utter shame, but at that moment the room lights up in a sickly, yellowish colour and a bang not wholly unlike that of a canon makes the glass panels in their windows vibrate. Without a second thought, Maggie scrambles up on Michelle’s bed, getting her feet tangled in the sheets and crashing head-first into her sister, knocking them both over.
She doesn’t care. Making a sound like a hurt animal, she hides her face in the crook of Michelle’s neck, using the eerie silence that always follows a lightning strike on catching her breath.
“Arara,” Michelle exclaims, her fingers grapping Maggie’s shoulders gently, as if to help her up.
“Nee-san, I -”About to start a long and stuttering explanation, Maggie feels herself being soothed by Michelle’s presence and stops before she can really get started. Letting her eyes come to a rest on the book that has almost been pushed out over the edge of the bed by her sudden movement, now balancing weakly on its spine, its pages wrinkled from their combined body weight, Maggie decides that admitting to her purpose of sneaking into Michelle’s bedroom is the easiest. It’s probably pretty obvious already.
“I don’t like thunder,” she mutters, the sentence quick, cutting Michelle off before she can make the same conclusion, but in much more embarrassing terms.
“So, you came to me, your own big sister, for a sense of safety and protection,” Michelle continues for her, sounding overly pleased. Maggie nods against Michelle’s shoulder, grateful - and a bit surprised - that Michelle isn’t blowing this out of proportions. She does that sometimes; getting a little carried away, often dragging Maggie with her, Anita following them down their stream of consciousness only to be able to shout at them for being irresponsible grown-ups and bad role models.
However, before Maggie has the time to express her appreciation, a pair of slender arms have moved around her waist, pulling her in against a soft body, most notably a pair of large breasts. With a thrilled squeal, Michelle squishes Maggie’s face in her cleavage, her breasts pushing on each side of Maggie’s face like particularly heavy airbags.
“Oh, Maggie-chan! See, that’s just the kind of sisterly trust I’d always expected to find in you. But it is the least I can do, of course - to help and guide you to overcome your fears and childhood traumas…”
Whatever else Michelle is saying drowns in pale skin as Maggie is pressed closer in against her big sister’s golden heart, getting her air supply exchanged for a mouthful of warm flesh. Eyes widening, Maggie wishes badly that Michelle would sleep in the leotard they use for battle… or a t-shit… or a bra… or just something… ANYTHING.
Struggling to breathe, Maggie idly wonders if they aren’t going to wake up Anita with this sudden ruckus. Not to mention the thunder that doesn’t seem to be ending anytime soon, the rain drumming in waterfalls against the window. At the sound, Maggie doesn’t know if she’s supposed to love or weep Michelle’s big heart and even bigger chest…
“Nee-san, please - ” Maggie mumbles without much luck, realising that breathing ever again belongs in one of those dreams she never has, but that Michelle experiences in spades. She might as well get used to it.
“You’re loud, you know,” Anita’s voice sounds from the doorway and Maggie tries desperately to turn her head, ending up with a crick in her neck and too close contact with one of Michelle’s nipples. The lights are turned on, leading to a rather significant pause as Anita takes in Maggie’s clumsy battle to get Michelle to loosen her grip, making Michelle’s hold on her more and more painful.
“Anita-chan,” Michelle greets the youngest member of their family happily, her tone surprised, “are you afraid of thunder as well? Come, let me soothe your unease with my motherly attitude…”
Right now, Maggie thinks, spluttering; oxygen is a luxury more valuable than all first editions of Hemingway in the world… and I can’t afford it. She feels like sobbing audibly, but the sounds are swallowed up by wobbling breasts. “Nee-san,” she coughs, flailing her arms helplessly once, then pressing them against Michelle’s thighs to try and push herself away from the other girl’s body. Quite fruitlessly, though she does make the rather unpleasant, albeit not shocking discovery that Michelle doesn’t sleep in panties either.
“Geez, why do I have to live with such perverts for sisters,” Anita growls, apparently getting tired of looking at Maggie’s uncomfortable position between Michelle’s breasts (and legs), taking pity on her awkward fight. “Mi-nee, you’re strangling her…”
Maggie thinks she could die from relief when Michelle finally lets go of her, dropping to her knees before letting herself fall, gracelessly, on her side. Michelle doesn’t pay her any mind, but turns to Anita with a slightly affronted look in her eyes, her lips smiling nevertheless. As they always do.
“What do you mean: perverts?” she asks, her voice rising an octave as she throws up her hands melodramatically, “we’re just expressing our deep sisterly devotion for each other. You could learn a lot from that, Anita-chan… right, Maggie-chan?”
“Hphhh…” Maggie responds, too busy drawing in big gulps of air to pay Michelle’s lecture of a pretty non-interested Anita any attention; even less so when the subject changes to what two sisters are supposed to be doing when sharing a bed…
Sometimes Maggie has to wonder for how long she’d survive living with Michelle if Anita wasn’t around. On the other hand, if it was just Michelle and her, she’d be allowed to read all the books she wanted, so at least she would die happy…
“You’re both perverts, but Mi-nee most so,” Anita insists coldly when Maggie returns to the living world again, feeling her little sister squeeze in between her and Michelle, “and now, budge over.” Anita sounds bored, but Maggie can tell that she’d like a share of that sisterly devotion Michelle is still fully occupied with praising.
Moving, Michelle catches sight of her book - or more importantly, what’s left of it, its crumbling pages making it look more like a stack of new-papers. Maggie already knows what’s coming…
“Oh no! Poor Harry Potter!”
Smiling slightly, Maggie grabs hold of Anita before she can attack Michelle who very predictably starts rambling about buying new copies as the first thing the following day. Locking her arms around the younger girl’s waist, much like Michelle had with her only moments before, she asks herself why her life always ends up feeling like a scene from a manga or even more like a silly dream. It’s kind of nice, though… like this. So she doesn’t mind too much.
It beats Michelle’s dreams about free books any day.
Title: ...or Dream
Author: animimares aka shoujo-ai no shijin
Fandom: Read or Dream
Characters: Maggie, Michelle, Anita, some not quite intended Maggie/Michelle if you squint.
Summary: Maggie's not afraid of thunder, she just doesn't like the idea of lying awake all by herself without a book for comfort.
Notes: LOL. Just... LOL.
____
... Or Dream
______________________
“Nee-san…” Maggie’s voice is hushed, trying not to disturb Michelle too much despite her original intention with being in her sister’s bedroom in the first place. To wake her up.
No reaction. Michelle doesn’t move a single inch. From this angle it might even look as if she isn’t breathing at all. From her open mouth saliva drips in neat little droplets onto the page she must have been reading right before falling asleep, little by little smearing out the letters as the pool of drool expands and becomes more of a lake.
“Nee-san,” Maggie tries again, this time raising her voice a fraction. As Michelle simply turns her head, smacking her lips contently when her cheek lands directly in the wet spot on her book, Maggie finds herself hoping that this is one of the titles they have an extra copy of. If not, Michelle will surely cause a scene come morning when finding her book ruined which again would start a chain reaction with Anita throwing a fit, tossing their books around, Michelle insisting on buying new ones and Anita consequently starting to kick things… most likely their book shelves - or Michelle. And Maggie would stand uselessly in the middle, trying to calm Anita down while still saving their personal library and bandage Michelle’s wounds.
The circle of doom gives her a headache.
Besides, she hasn’t been allowed to read this particular book yet, Michelle having insisted on keeping it to herself since buying it.
Outside, another flash of lightning slashes the skies, soon followed by a roar of thunder. Unable to finish the thought on the catastrophe of Michelle with a spit-slickened bookmark in her brand new, only twice-read-already copy of “Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows”, Maggie shudders.
Michelle needs to wake up. Or, more accurately, Maggie needs her to wake up. Now.
It isn’t because she’s afraid of thunder. Really, it’s not - at least, it wouldn’t be, if she had had a book she could get lost in. It’s just that she doesn’t like the idea of lying awake all by herself very much. Not in the middle of a storm.
Focusing on Michelle again, watching her as she sleeps with a peaceful, yet delighted expression on her face, Maggie takes a deep breath and mentally prepares for the difficult task of getting her self-installed big sister to awaken. Michelle likes sleeping, Maggie knows; she likes it a lot, often claiming that in Slumberland they never run out of money to spend on books and there’s no one yelling at her for emptying entire book stores.
For a moment, Maggie stops to consider why she can never have nice dreams like that. Usually she simply wakes up with the unnerving feeling that she’s just shown herself naked in front of a huge crowd… A slight warmth creeps into her cheeks at the recollection, but when a lightning bold tears through the darkness, heralding an explosion of sound that crashes in over them like a tsunami only a second or two afterwards, the blood is drained from her face altogether as she pales. Yelping, she makes an instant decision.
Michelle will most certainly forgive her if she finds her in her bed the next morning. For all Maggie knows, it might even help her not to mourn her drool-drenched book too dramatically.
Mostly out of habit, Maggie whispers an apologetic and slightly strained “please excuse me” before climbing into Michelle’s bed. As gently as she can muster, she attempts wrestling a corner of the duvet free from underneath Michelle’s lax body, only managing to get a lock of Michelle’s blonde hair stuck between the pages of the book she’s using for pillow.
Maggie can understand why Anita keeps insisting she’ll never make any friends. She’s so clumsy…
Uttering a not all too elegant grunt, Michelle stirs at last, blinking a couple of times against the dimness of the room. Eyeing Maggie, she raises her head, forced to stop mid-motion when the book tucks non-too-gently at her curls. Somewhat panicked, Maggie reaches out to help untangle the mess of wavy tresses and sticky pages.
“Maggie-chan,” Michelle slurs when she can actually lift her head to meet Maggie’s eyes, even though still half-asleep, she needn’t have bothered, “what are you doing?”
This time blushing crimson, Maggie is about to stand up and mumble her way out of the room, maybe adding a bow to it, just for the emphasis it would add to her show of utter shame, but at that moment the room lights up in a sickly, yellowish colour and a bang not wholly unlike that of a canon makes the glass panels in their windows vibrate. Without a second thought, Maggie scrambles up on Michelle’s bed, getting her feet tangled in the sheets and crashing head-first into her sister, knocking them both over.
She doesn’t care. Making a sound like a hurt animal, she hides her face in the crook of Michelle’s neck, using the eerie silence that always follows a lightning strike on catching her breath.
“Arara,” Michelle exclaims, her fingers grapping Maggie’s shoulders gently, as if to help her up.
“Nee-san, I -”About to start a long and stuttering explanation, Maggie feels herself being soothed by Michelle’s presence and stops before she can really get started. Letting her eyes come to a rest on the book that has almost been pushed out over the edge of the bed by her sudden movement, now balancing weakly on its spine, its pages wrinkled from their combined body weight, Maggie decides that admitting to her purpose of sneaking into Michelle’s bedroom is the easiest. It’s probably pretty obvious already.
“I don’t like thunder,” she mutters, the sentence quick, cutting Michelle off before she can make the same conclusion, but in much more embarrassing terms.
“So, you came to me, your own big sister, for a sense of safety and protection,” Michelle continues for her, sounding overly pleased. Maggie nods against Michelle’s shoulder, grateful - and a bit surprised - that Michelle isn’t blowing this out of proportions. She does that sometimes; getting a little carried away, often dragging Maggie with her, Anita following them down their stream of consciousness only to be able to shout at them for being irresponsible grown-ups and bad role models.
However, before Maggie has the time to express her appreciation, a pair of slender arms have moved around her waist, pulling her in against a soft body, most notably a pair of large breasts. With a thrilled squeal, Michelle squishes Maggie’s face in her cleavage, her breasts pushing on each side of Maggie’s face like particularly heavy airbags.
“Oh, Maggie-chan! See, that’s just the kind of sisterly trust I’d always expected to find in you. But it is the least I can do, of course - to help and guide you to overcome your fears and childhood traumas…”
Whatever else Michelle is saying drowns in pale skin as Maggie is pressed closer in against her big sister’s golden heart, getting her air supply exchanged for a mouthful of warm flesh. Eyes widening, Maggie wishes badly that Michelle would sleep in the leotard they use for battle… or a t-shit… or a bra… or just something… ANYTHING.
Struggling to breathe, Maggie idly wonders if they aren’t going to wake up Anita with this sudden ruckus. Not to mention the thunder that doesn’t seem to be ending anytime soon, the rain drumming in waterfalls against the window. At the sound, Maggie doesn’t know if she’s supposed to love or weep Michelle’s big heart and even bigger chest…
“Nee-san, please - ” Maggie mumbles without much luck, realising that breathing ever again belongs in one of those dreams she never has, but that Michelle experiences in spades. She might as well get used to it.
“You’re loud, you know,” Anita’s voice sounds from the doorway and Maggie tries desperately to turn her head, ending up with a crick in her neck and too close contact with one of Michelle’s nipples. The lights are turned on, leading to a rather significant pause as Anita takes in Maggie’s clumsy battle to get Michelle to loosen her grip, making Michelle’s hold on her more and more painful.
“Anita-chan,” Michelle greets the youngest member of their family happily, her tone surprised, “are you afraid of thunder as well? Come, let me soothe your unease with my motherly attitude…”
Right now, Maggie thinks, spluttering; oxygen is a luxury more valuable than all first editions of Hemingway in the world… and I can’t afford it. She feels like sobbing audibly, but the sounds are swallowed up by wobbling breasts. “Nee-san,” she coughs, flailing her arms helplessly once, then pressing them against Michelle’s thighs to try and push herself away from the other girl’s body. Quite fruitlessly, though she does make the rather unpleasant, albeit not shocking discovery that Michelle doesn’t sleep in panties either.
“Geez, why do I have to live with such perverts for sisters,” Anita growls, apparently getting tired of looking at Maggie’s uncomfortable position between Michelle’s breasts (and legs), taking pity on her awkward fight. “Mi-nee, you’re strangling her…”
Maggie thinks she could die from relief when Michelle finally lets go of her, dropping to her knees before letting herself fall, gracelessly, on her side. Michelle doesn’t pay her any mind, but turns to Anita with a slightly affronted look in her eyes, her lips smiling nevertheless. As they always do.
“What do you mean: perverts?” she asks, her voice rising an octave as she throws up her hands melodramatically, “we’re just expressing our deep sisterly devotion for each other. You could learn a lot from that, Anita-chan… right, Maggie-chan?”
“Hphhh…” Maggie responds, too busy drawing in big gulps of air to pay Michelle’s lecture of a pretty non-interested Anita any attention; even less so when the subject changes to what two sisters are supposed to be doing when sharing a bed…
Sometimes Maggie has to wonder for how long she’d survive living with Michelle if Anita wasn’t around. On the other hand, if it was just Michelle and her, she’d be allowed to read all the books she wanted, so at least she would die happy…
“You’re both perverts, but Mi-nee most so,” Anita insists coldly when Maggie returns to the living world again, feeling her little sister squeeze in between her and Michelle, “and now, budge over.” Anita sounds bored, but Maggie can tell that she’d like a share of that sisterly devotion Michelle is still fully occupied with praising.
Moving, Michelle catches sight of her book - or more importantly, what’s left of it, its crumbling pages making it look more like a stack of new-papers. Maggie already knows what’s coming…
“Oh no! Poor Harry Potter!”
Smiling slightly, Maggie grabs hold of Anita before she can attack Michelle who very predictably starts rambling about buying new copies as the first thing the following day. Locking her arms around the younger girl’s waist, much like Michelle had with her only moments before, she asks herself why her life always ends up feeling like a scene from a manga or even more like a silly dream. It’s kind of nice, though… like this. So she doesn’t mind too much.
It beats Michelle’s dreams about free books any day.