Morag Aoibhán MacDougal (magical_morag) wrote in under_siege,
Morag Aoibhán MacDougal
magical_morag
under_siege

Oh my god, look! Something actually happened!

Who: Anthony and Morag
Where: The Ravenclaw common room, then the boy's dorm (*winks*)
When: Very recently.
Warning: This log contains a great deal of making out, nekkidness, and touching of the non-innocent kind. You have been warned. ;)



Sick of studying and with no Quidditch practice to hold, Morag had stretched herself out on a couch in the Ravenclaw common room, her face hidden against a cushion. No one had bothered her for nearly an hour, which she was thankful for, but she was starting to think that getting up just might be a good idea. Eventually. Right now, the sofa was still quite terribly comfortable.

Quietly entering the tower after yet another night of studying and rounds, Anthony found himself tense and irritable. He was, without a doubt, going to go absolutely bonkers at this rate. He needed to relax -- something he's rarely ever bothered with -- and there was no Winter break coming this year.

Suddenly, he espied Morag on the central couch. Now, she looked delightfully relaxed. Anthony was jealous. He knelt down next to her, and whispered a quiet "Good evening."

"Mrghph." Came Morag's response, whatever words she'd spoken muffled by the pillow. Turning her head, she opened her eyes and smiled lazily at Anthony, still not quite fully awake. "Hello you."

"You looked terribly comfortable there, Morag. I must say I was a bit envious." Anthony smiled back, brushing a bit of hair from her eyes.

"You could come get comfortable with me," she suggested, smirking as she scooted back against the couch, patting the open space beside her. "I promise not to bite."

Anthony didn't need to be asked twice. He stretched himself out beside Morag, letting out a contented sigh. "Ahh...I do believe this is the first chance I've had to unwind all day. Week. Month, even."

Morag lifted an eyebrow, propping herself up on one elbow to look down at him. "Psh. You should have come to me sooner. Roll over onto your stomach, love."

Anthony quirked up an eyebrow suspiciously, but obliged just the same. "If you insist."

"I do." Smiling, Morag sat up, straddling his legs, and put her hands on his shoulders, begining to knead the tight muscles gently. "Consider this one of the many perks of having me as your girlfriend. I give wonderful backrubs."

Anthony found he suddenly lacked words. So he expressed his utter appreciation with a low groan. She must have the greatest hands in the world... he though to himself.

She laughed softly, digging her fingers harder at a particuarly knotted spot. "I'll take that as a sign you agree with me then." She was glad she could do something to help Anthony relax--she had been worrying about him, though she hid it well. "It's something I picked up after years of sore muscles playing Quidditch."

"Then I owe quidditch a great many thanks." Anthony murmured, letting his eyes close. "How goes that, by the way?"

"Just fine," Morag shrugged slightly, moving her hands from his shoulders to his upper back. "The team looks really good this year. We're putting on an impressive show."

"Good to hear..." Anthony stay silent a moment, enjoying the feel of Morag's hands, and the slow looseness that crept into his joints. Then, "Morag, I don't know how I'll return a favor like this," he joked.

Morag's hands paused for a moment, then continued their work. "I'm sure you'll think of something," she said wickedly, glad he couldn't see the silly grin on her face.

Anthony chuckled, softly. "It seems you already have something in mind, Morag." His own grin was devilish enough for the both of them.

One of her hands slipped down, pinching his bum quickly as she tried not to laugh aloud. "And what is that supposed to mean?"

"Morag!" Anthony was slightly scandalized. But only slightly. "Now, what is someone had walked in on that? We'd have scarred some poor innocent first-year." He pretended to chastize, but the grin on his face gave away the joke.

"Oh, that was nothing. If I'd really wanted to scare the first years, I would have done something far, far worse." She couldn't hide the grin on her face, and leaned down to kiss his cheek in appology. "I could do something horribly inappropriate to you."

"Oh...?" Anthony paused. Now he had ideas, dammit. Not that he found them particularly unpleasent...

"Oh, yes. For example," Morag's fingers slipped easily under the hem of his shirt, trailing lightly across his skin, keeping her voice low. "I could ruin your reputation right here and now on this couch."

Inhaling as her fingers brushed ever so lightly along he back, Anthony found the sensations quite pleasent-- reputation be damned. "Is that so? I supposed I'd be rather helpless to stop you..."

"Oh yes." She couldn't believe she was getting away with this--not that she minded. Touching Anthony was always a wonderful thing. "How could you resist my feminine charm?"

"I haven't a clue." Anthony was beginning to feel a little left out in the touching department. As much as he loved the feel of Morag's fingers, his own were itching to touch her soft skin in return.

"Of course, the common room wouldn't be my place of choice to commit such acts of debauchery." Without warning, her hands were suddenly gone and she stood up, feeling just a little daring. "Like you said, anyone could wander in and see us."

Taking a moment to mourn the loss of the feel of hands, Anthony rolled over on his side and propped himself up on one elbow. "Are you proposing a change of scenery, love?"

"If you're agreeable to the idea."

"Very much so." Anthony stood up and placed his arm about Morag's shoulders. "Lead the way, love."

Not feeling so daring now--more nervous, actually--Morag moved towards the boys' dormitory. Stupid spells on the girls' stairs. She might have felt a bit less presumptious if it was her own room they were going to. But as there was no other option...she really, really was hoping none of the boys were in Anthony's room, or if they were, that they were fast asleep and wouldn't notice the pair.

Anthony was intrigued, for sure, when he saw where Morag was bringing them. Just what did she have in mind?

When they reached the boys dorm, Anthony took the initiative to go in first, making sure everyone else was gone or asleep. Check. "Coast is clear." He said with a grin.

His grin was reassuring, and gave her the ease to smile in return. "Good." Without another word, she went to sit down on the edge of his bed, her smile turning slightly more coy. "Come sit with me?"

Anthony sat next to Morag, taking one of her hands in his. He was curious at her shy act. It wasn't as if this was the first time she'd been here. They'd been sharing a bed -- in an innocent sense, of course -- pretty regularly for weeks.

Morag looked down at their joined hands, trying to think of the best way to word what she wanted to say. Or if she wanted to say it at all, really. Instead, she cupped his face with her free hand and really looked at him, as though she were memorizing every little detail about his face. "You know I love you, right?"

"Yes." Anthony brought his free hand to brush lightly along Morag's cheek but curled fingers. "I love you, too." A slow suspicion grew in his mind, but he didn't want to voice it. He didn't want to force an issue that shouldn't be forced.

She closed her eyes at the touch, some of the tension easing out of her shoulders. "You're the best thing that's ever happened to me, Anthony, and I don't want to do anything to ruin this. Which is why..." She paused, trying to get the words right. "Which is why I'm going to ask you to be honest with me. Are you sure you're comfortable with me being here?"

Anthony took a moment to answer. He knew he was comfortable with Morag, always had been, but he didn't want to phrase it wrong. He settled on simplicity. "Yes."

"Good." The relief was evident in her expression and she squeezed his hand. "It's just...I have this tendancy, to be a bit much at times, and I never want to make you uncomfortable or cross a line you're not ready to cross."

"No, no..." Anthony shifted a bit, leaning towards her. "Never. I'm...I'm more worried about pushing you too far, too soon."

She laughed softly, giving him a wry smile. "I don't think that's going to be much of a problem. I trust you, and..." she looked away, suddenly feeling awkward. "I wouldn't mind it if we pushed a bit further."

Anthony gently cupped her chin, bringing her eyes back to his. "Show me....just how far to push."

"Easier done than said," she murmured, leaning in to kiss him gently.

Anthony returned the kiss equally as gently. He moved both his hands to softly hold her waist, in an almost protective way.

The gentleness was nice, but he had asked her to show him how far, and Morag was more than willing to do so. The kiss became more insistant, her lips parting, tongue darting to tease and coax, and she moved as close to him as she could, arms tightly wrapped around him.

His grip on her hips tightened as Anthony was drawn in by Morag's actions. He shifted his balance, drawing Morag forward into his lap. His own lips parted, eagerly responding to Morag's tongue and teasing. She was certainly makine her intentions clear. Not that Anthony was upset by this in the least.

Oh, that was nice. More than nice, in fact. Morag had the sense to reach with one hand, tugging the bed curtains closed, and then she was paying full attention to him again, trailing her fingers against his skin as she kissed him deeply.

Anthony found himself keenly aware of every sensation Morag was causing, while his own hands found their way underneath her shirt to touch the silky skin of her back. He gently probed his way up along either side of her spinal column, sliding them up and down, back and forth. Oh, he was enjoying this. Quite a bit.

Morag pulled away long enough to take a deep breath, resting her hand against his chest, fingers playing absently at the top button. It took a great deal of courage, but she finaly spoke up softly. "Can I?"

Anthony swallowed, hard. Part of him was afraid of what could come next; being exposed physically, and essentially emotionally for the first time ever. At the same time, he trusted Morag, completely. He'd already peeled back his various personality masks for her, what was a shirt? So he gave a tiny nod and leaned in to kiss her lightly.

She slowly unbuttoned his shirt, returning the kiss gently. She was perhaps more nervous than he was, and she had done this before. When her fingers met skin, she hesitated, unsure, before she pushed his shirt further aside and slid her fingertips down his chest slowly, exploring.

Shaking the sleeves from his arm, Anthony brought his hands to cup either side of Morag's face. He kept their kisses tender and sweet, a sharp contrast to the passionate, deep ones of only moments before. But he was afraid that if he let his instincts and sense take control he'd die from overstimulation, between Morag's hands and lips. But what a wonderful death it could be...

When he didn't push her away or try to hide, she took that as a good sign. The kiss became a little more insistant, her hands skimming along the skin above his waist. She didn't want to ruin this, but part of her wanted to see how far she could push Anthony before the night was over.

Anthony himself was just wondering how far he could go, as he dropped his hands to the hem of her plain gray t-shirt. He played with it for a moment, lifting it about half an inch before fear took over and he dropped them down to low on her hips. He pulled her in tighter, settling for closeness rather than outright nakedness.

Morag pulled away from the kiss for a moment to study his face, one hand lifting to touch his cheek gently. "Everything okay?"

"I...well, I had wanted to..." His words drifted off, and his cheeks reddened with embarrassment. What, was he twelve? This was absurd.

"Go ahead, Anthony." She gave him an encouraging smile, leaning forward to brush her lips softly against his. "You have my full permission to do whatever it is that you want."

In an instant his hands were back at this hem, yet they lifted it slowly. He wanted to savor the moment. Then, the shirt was gone, discarded over his pillow, and Anthony found himself speechless for the second time that night. He now had a new appreciation for women's underwear. Tentatively, he slipped his fingers under the the straps of Morag's bra, seeking permission with his eyes to go even one step further.

She gave a slight nod, unconsciously holding her breath as she waited for him to continue.

He slipped them off, and he spent more time savoring all that was already revealed to him. He kissed her left, and then her right should, all the while reaching around to undo the clasp at her back. He fumbled a moment, cursing mentally, and then it came loose with a click. It slipped off easily, leaving Anthony with his mouth slightly ajar.

"You're beautiful."

She blushed, unable to help herself, and smiled at him, resisting the immediate urge to cover herself. "Thank you."

Anthony's hands cupped Morag's cheeks, covering the pink that flushed them. He leaned in and kissed her, deepening the kiss slowly, gently, lovingly. He let his lips speak without speaking, while those hands slid down her neck and shoulders to cup her breasts. This, too, he did gently, tentatively -- he was horribly unsure of himself, and knew only that he wanted to feel and touch every part of Morag, as far as she'd let him.

Morag couldn't help the soft sigh that escaped her lips as his hands reached her breasts, her back arching slightly, pressing herself into that touch. She felt almost dizzy, between the feel of his hands and his lips. It was so different than the clumsy fumbling she'd done last summer, with one of the boys back home...so much better, because this was Anthony: she trusted him, loved him.

Not in the least prepared for that reaction, Anthony nearly lost any sense of balance he night have had. As it was, he sank backwards into his bed, sacrificing one had to move it to the small of her back and push her forward towards him. To make up for the loss of a hand, he experimented with his other, moving his thumb over her nipple. He was testing, probing, all the while trying to deal with the mass of senstions he was feeling. Just how did Morag's skin get so silky, so smooth to the touch?

She inhaled sharply, going completely still for a moment before she leaned forward, capturing his mouth in another kiss, unable to keep her hands from skimming almost lazily along his sides, trying her best to encourage more touching on his part, to show how much she liked what he was doing.

Anthony felt a deep, throaty groan escape his lips as he moaned into the kiss. God, but his whole body felt as though it were being wound like a top. He felt Morag's bare chest brush against his own, and it only made him want more skin, to feel more of Morag. His thumb traced circles with her nipple, and his mouth began to trace its way down her neck with wet, heated kisses.

Morag couldn't believe herself, how wonderful just the lightest of touches was making her feel. The feeling of being skin to skin with him made her shiver. She hadn't realized just how his gentle, unsure exploration of her body would make her feel. She wanted to touch him so badly, but she didn't want to ruin the moment with her own selfish wants, or scare him away by being too foreward.

Now Anthony was kissing her collarbone -- he felt like he could just eat her all up, taste her slick skin all over. The fingers of his free hand brushed underneath the waist of her pants along her hip, just above her rear, and back forward to the front of the hip. His mind reeled at the thought of what he was trying to do, but his body was in control at this point. As his lips reached the warmth of the pulse in her throat, his hips, by a will all their own, jerked just slightly upward.

She couldn't help the way her body responded to the dual assault of his mouth and hands. The need to touch him was too strong for her to resist, and her hands moved again, sliding slowly down his back as she pressed herself against him again, needing to be close. The desire was making her blood burn and she wanted so badly to show him just how good he was making her feel.

Anthony responded in kind as his lips took hers again -- there was a new urgency in his kisses. His wayward hand found its way back to her other breast, and he mimicked his motions on the other side. He was sure that Morag, as close as they were, could feel exactly what she was doing to him, and how the pressure of her against him was making Anthony go absolutely mad.

Morag couldn't ignore the feeling of him pressed against her, and slowly rocked her hips against his, the undeniably wicked part of her wanting to drive him wild. She wasn't sure what he might do if she pushed him much further, but she wanted to find out.

His breath catching in his throat, Anthony instinctively began to move against Morag, copying her rolling motions. Without realizing it, his hands left their former positions and grabbed hers, bringing them to the front of his pants. When he did realize what he'd done, he prayed that it wasn't too much for Morag.

The fog of her mind cleared for a moment and she realized that things might go further than either of them were ready for. She wanted him so badly, and it was all too obvious that he wanted her as well, but she was afraid he might regret his actions if they took this too far. Pulling her lips from his for a moment, she let her hands rest on the front of his hips, not quite touching what she desperately wanted to. Afraid he might worry she was upset, she brushed her lips gently against his once more before she spoke. "How far, Anthony?"

Ok. He had to think. Think clearly. Though he ached, what exactly was he ready for?

For a long moment, Anthony just looked at Morag. No, he loved her, but he wasn't ready to make love to her; if only because he wanted it to be something more special than these explorartory fumblings. He leaned upwards, laying a soft kiss on the corner of her mouth. "Not all the way, but..." His sentence trailed off. He didn't know what he would do if they stopped, but he didn't want Morag to feel pressured, either.

She nodded slightly, trying to think of the best way to do this. There were ways, and then there were ways. And some of those ways meant admitting to Anthony that she wasn't quite as innocent in the ways of the flesh as he might think. But for all her 'experiance', she was just as clueless as he was about what to do. She managed to look him in the eyes, not feeling pressured, just nervous. "What...what would you feel comfortable with?"

"Uh..." Anthony found himself at a bit of a loss for words. Oh, he had ideas, but his mind wasn't working clearly enough to vocalize them. He laid another gentle kiss on her lips, and whispered as simply as possible, "Just touch me, and let me touch you."

Now that she could do. Her fingers slid slowly, carefully along the front of his pants, carefully avoiding certain parts, and came to rest at his waist, two fingers toying slightly with the top button of his trousers. "Here?" she whispered, lifting an eyebrow as she looked up at him.

Anthony nodded, mutely. His hands sat on her waist, resting gently for the time being.

The button was quicky undone, and she hesitated only a moment before the zipper went as well. She couldn't quite believe she was getting away with this. Carefully, she slid her hand inside his pants, her touch remaining almost teasingly light. It was up to him how far this would go.

Anthony's breath hitched, just slightly, and his grip on Morag's waist tightened perceptibly. "Please." It was was a barely-breathed whisper.

Morag bit her lip, the softly spoken word sending a shiver down her spine. The idea that she could cause that kind of reaction in him with just a light touch...it was amazing. But she gave in to his plea and slid her fingers into his boxers, delicate fingers exploring the skin within the confines of the cloth.

Her soft, slender fingers would be the end of Anthony. It was almost certain.

But it wasn't enough to be touched -- he wanted to feel Morag, too. Even as his eyes closed, his hands roamed, stroking her abdomen, her breasts, her neck, even sliding over her covered rear and thighs. He wondered if there was anyone else on this earth as perfectly made as Morag.

His hands on her skin were a welcome distraction, and Morag shifted closer, her free hand resting on his hip as her other hand encircled him, resting still for just a moment as she tried to focus, then moved up and down with deliberate, sure slowness.

Wanting Morag to feel the same shivers and sensations he was feeling, Anthony brought his hands to where her legs parted to straddle him. He rubbed the juncture softly, testing to see what she could feel through the material of her pants.

Distracted from her own explorations, Morag's lips parted in a soft gasp as her hips rocked involuntarily against his hand, seeking more of that touch.

Well, that worked. Anthony tried rubbing a bit harder, all the while trying to maintain sanity despite the fog his mind wanted to slip into.

Morag made a frustrated sound in the back of her throat, a part of her mind cursing the fact that she was wearing thick cordory pants even as she continued to arch against his hand, her own hand busy stroking him lightly.

The closer Anthony grew to his peak, the more pressure he put into his strokes, resenting the thick cloth almost as much as Morag did. A low moan escaped his throat, and his hips bucked involuntarily. His free hand went to stroke her breast, playing and rubbing her nipple. He wanted Morag to moan like him, he wanted to her to feel the way he felt.

Morag had lost the ability to think properly, her hips shifting hard against his hand as her breath came in short, whimpering gasps. Her own hand moved faster, her grip firming slightly as she did her best to make him moan again.

Thinking was a lost cause -- Anthony merely reacted. Encouraged by Morag's whimpers, he pressed harder, his thumb making circles against her. He was on the verge of losing control, his bucks becoming outright thrusts.

Morag shuddered, her body winding tighter and tighter as the sensations washed over her--too much now. There was a moment of no thought at all, and her body fell to pieces as she reached the edge, her back arching as she cried out.

Anthony felt himself reaching that precipice. As Morag arched backwards Anthony was proping himself up with one elbow, using his other hand to pull Morag close. One last, unknowing stroke on her part did the trick, and Anthony captured Morag's mouth in a kiss to stifle his own groan as his mind entered a senses-shattering, thought-blowing blackness for that one, perfect instant.

Slowly, he lowered themselves back down onto his bed, and lay there for a moment, breathing heavily, still refusing to form coherent thoughts.

Morag blinked several times, feeling as though her brains had leaked completely out of her head. Almost too slowly, she turned her head, pressing a kiss against his cheek, and let out a tiny, content sigh, not wanting to think of practical things just yet.

They were sweaty. They were also, to be honest, pretty sticky, too. But none of it really mattered. Softly, Anthony stroked the top of her hair, memorizing every detail of the scene. "I love you," he murmered.

Morag tilted her head to look up at him, smiling warmly. "I love you too, Anthony."

"I think it goes without saying that you're staying here, tonight." He kissed the top of her forehead.

"If you kicked me out now, I'd be rather upset with you." Morag grinned at him, then made a face. "Can we clean up a bit, though?"

"Yes, of course." Anthony reached back towards his pillow, which was where his wand had ended up. With a slick motion he had scourgifyed the...mess the two had made. "Better?"

"Much." She leaned up and kissed him lightly, then settled down again, curling up against him like a cat. "That was brilliant, by the way."

Anthony reached for Morag's shirt as he replaced his wand under the pillow, draping it over her shoulder. He wasn't sure if she'd want to cover up again, or not -- though he certainly enjoyed the veiw. "I'd say it was something beyond brilliant. Utterly amazing." He softly stroked her cheek in a loving gesture.

"If you think that's amazing..." She let the thought trail off, giving him a sly smile even as she burrowed closer to him. She didn't feel any need to cover up--in fact, she was debating ditching the pants as well, as cordory wasn't the most comfortably of fabrics to sleep in. But she didn't want to send Anthony into shock.

Anthony found himself grinning, even as he grabbed a blanket to tuck in around them. "Soon," he whispered, "sometime soon. We'll need to warm ourselves up somehow, in these cold winter nights."

"Oh, that won't be a problem at all." Morag ruined her wicked reply by yawning, then laughed and closed her eyes, murmuring sleepily. "The problem will be keeping my hands off you now."

Anthony chuckled, echoing Morag's yawn. "I'm sure we'll manage." He held her gently, and let sleep come.
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