Price x Female!OC
••When a blizzard brings their mission to a screeching halt, Price and Walker find themselves stuck in an abandoned cabin.
⚠️NSFW⚠️

Morgan trudged through the knee-deep snow a few paces behind Price. Her gear weighed her down and made her sluggish. It didn't help that she couldn't feel her feet anymore, let alone her fingers.

She turned to look behind her at the clouds that loomed ominously, her frost-covered eyelashes glimmering in the sunlight.

"That storm's getting pretty close." She called to Price. "You think we'll make it to the compound before it hits?"

"If we're lucky." He answered. "Pick up the pace and we just might."

She shook her head and tightened the shoulder straps of her pack as she walked. "When are we ever lucky?"

Morgan envied Price's long legs. It wasn't as hard for him as it was for her to trudge through the snow and he knew that, which is why he purposely shortened his strides to make it easier for her to follow his footsteps.

She hadn't noticed until several minutes ago that he was doing it on purpose. She had wanted to tell him that she didn't need his help, that he shouldn't limit himself to accommodate her, but the point was moot. They needed to reach that compound and this was the fastest way to do it.

Soon, the clearing they had traversed began climbing into a mountainside. Tall pine trees, their branches laden with snow, signaled the beginning of a forest. The snow wasn't as thick here, though the terrain made up for the lack of difficulty.

It was rocky and steep. Clustered rock formations poked out of the snow, though some were buried beneath it—hidden ankle-breakers.

Morgan trudged up the hill after Price, her breath hot against her balaclava and her eyes fixated on his back. She should've been watching her step, but her mind was focused elsewhere. It proved to be a near-disastrous mistake as her boot slipped on a hidden rock and caused her to fall on her side.

"Shit!" She shouted in surprise, wincing as the sharp edges of the rocks poked her through her uniform.

Price heard her cry and spun around. "Walker!" He immediately shuffled down to where she was and knelt by her side. "You alright?"

Morgan took Price's arm and hauled herself to her feet, her heart pounding in her chest. She looked down at her side and didn't see any sign of a wound.

"Yeah... I think so." She replied, breathing deeply to try and steady her nerves.

As she readjusted her pack, a gust of wind came from behind and nearly took Price's hat off his head. Flurries of snow whipped up by the wind swirled around them, stinging the exposed parts of their faces. The sky seemed to be growing darker with each passing moment.

"We need to get moving." Price murmured, his tone serious. He turned and continued up the hill, though he visibly struggled due to the wind.

Morgan was quick to follow. As the wind picked up and more snow began to swirl into the air, it became hard to see. It got to the point where she could barely see Price's figure terrifyingly quick.

"Price!" She shouted above the howling winds.

He paused, waiting for her to come near before shouting back, "Grab my pack!"

Morgan squinted her stinging eyes as she fumbled for a strap on Price's pack and tightened her glove around it. This mission was critical. Neither of them could afford to get lost in the storm.

The blizzard rapidly intensified, soon pummeling them with powerful winds and snow falling so fast, it flew sideways like icy daggers. Morgan kept her head down, trying to prevent her eyelashes from freezing together as she staggered behind Price.

It seemed like an eternity passed before the faint outline of a building amongst the trees came into view. Price led the way, shielding his face with his arm and marching through the snow. The building turned out to be an abandoned cabin, though neither of them cared as they flung the door open and shuffled inside.

With the closed door keeping the howling wind at bay, the air was suddenly silent. All that could be heard was the harsh breathing they shared between them.

"Well... that puts a damper on things.." Price rasped from where he leaned against the wall.

Morgan pulled her balaclava down and hunched over, gasping for breath. "You're telling me..."

Once she felt well enough to stand straight, she took a moment to examine their surroundings. The cabin was small. They had stumbled into the living room, which had a dormant fireplace, the dusty remains of a coffee table, and an old couch accompanied by a matching arm chair that was missing some stuffing. There was a rug that spanned nearly the entire room, though its pattern was too faded to make out.

Price rubbed his hands together as he pushed off the wall. "Let's see if we can get a fire started. I'm fuckin' freezing."

Once Morgan could feel her limbs again, she offloaded her pack on the couch and walked off in search of fire materials. There was a doorway off to the right that led into what appeared to be a kitchen.

Random boxes and cans of food were strewn across the counters and the floor. Every cabinet was either open or missing a door.

"Looks like someone already ransacked the place." Morgan muttered to herself as her eyes scanned the room.

There were a few old wooden chairs piled in the corner, as well as ragged curtains that hung in front of the cracked window. She dragged the chairs into the living room, then went back for the curtains.

Meanwhile, Price was busy transforming the living room into a base of operations. He'd unloaded most of his gear, checking the radios and such to make sure they were still functioning. Morgan lingered in the doorway, her gaze inexplicably drawn to him.

His back was to her and he was knelt over the coffee table, messing with something she couldn't get a clear view of. Although she had kept it a tight secret, she feared her feelings for him were becoming more obvious. Despite the various ways their current predicament absolutely sucked, part of her felt excited to finally be alone with him—maybe a little too excited.

"Once we get that fire started, it'd probably be a good idea to take some of your gear off to let it dry. There's no telling how long we'll be stuck here."

Price's voice ripped Morgan from her thoughts and she walked forward as if she had just entered the room.

"I found a few chairs and some curtains." She told him as she rounded the couch.

"Good. Break 'em down and put 'em in the fireplace. I've got a lighter."

Of course he did. He never left home without one thanks to his cigar addiction.

Pulling the chairs closer to the fireplace, Morgan began breaking them down and tossing the pieces into the cramped, blackened space. Once she felt there was enough of a pile, she saved the rest for later and tore the curtain into strips to help the fire burn.

Price pulled a lighter from his pocket and stood up, but not before lighting a cigar first. He held the lighter next to the strips of curtain until it caught fire, then stepped back to let it do its thing.

Morgan pulled off her gloves and held her trembling hands in front of the fire. Slowly, her fingers began to thaw out and she could flex them again. She sighed, watching the growing flame for a moment.

It was going to be a long night.

•
•
•

Night had fallen rather quickly, thickening the darkness already created by the blizzard that roared overhead. With the only source of light and heat being the fire, Price and Morgan didn't move far.

The larger bits of their gear like their vests, jackets and undershirts were draped across curtain rods in front of the fire to dry out. Morgan had chosen to strip down to a sports bra and compression shorts for comfort—mostly because she despised the feeling of wet fabric against her skin. Sitting by the fire with a sleeping bag nearby, she didn't have to worry too much about keeping warm.

Price was in his long johns, though he'd taken off the shirt a while ago—said he was getting too hot. Morgan wanted to call bullshit, but kept her mouth shut. Having his shirt off meant she got to admire his muscles in the glow of the fire and she wasn't about to complain.

He was busy cleaning his gun at the moment. Morgan couldn't stop looking over, mesmerized by the way his hands moved so fluidly over the gun like it was an extension of his own self.

"How long do you think this storm's gonna last?" She asked after a while, breaking the silence.

Price didn't answer right away. His thick brows furrowed together as he focused on cleaning a particular part of the gun, almost like he was distracting himself from something.

"Mm.. I dunno. Could be a few hours or... worst case scenario.. a few days." He murmured, his eyes never leaving the gun.

Morgan nodded, studying him for a moment. He seemed tense, and based on how slow and heavy his breathing was, something appeared to be bothering him. Making him uncomfortable, even.

She chalked it up to the stress of the mission and left it at that, leaning back on her hands. As she did so, she suddenly felt a sharp pain in her side.

"Ow!" She hissed. She looked down at her side and noticed that a good portion of skin had been sloughed off, leaving a raw mark around the size of her palm.

Perhaps she hadn't noticed it before due to the rush of adrenaline and bitter cold numbing her body.

Price immediately perked up. His gaze eventually found the wound on your side and his expression shifted into that of concern. "That looks painful."

"Thanks, captain obvious." Morgan huffed, gingerly pressing near the wound with one finger. "Guess those rocks got me after all."

"Let me get something for that."

"No, it's fine—"

"I insist."

Morgan felt a chill crawl down her spine upon hearing the huskiness of his tone—and it wasn't because of the cold. Her breath hitched in her throat and she could feel her heart pounding against her chest.

Seeing that she wasn't going to protest, Price set the gun aside and rose to his feet. He quickly turned and walked over to where his pack sat on the couch, briefly rummaging through it until he found what he was looking for. Returning with a gauze patch in hand, he knelt down beside her.

Fuck. Morgan cursed in her mind, feeling the burning heat in her core increase with him being so near.

Before he did anything, Price's gaze flicked up to meet hers again, his blue eyes asking for permission. She could only manage a small nod, too terrified of what might come out of her mouth if she spoke.

He peeled open the package and gently pressed it against her side, wincing as she let out another hiss of pain.

"Sorry." He murmured, rubbing around the edges to make sure the patch stuck. His eyebrows furrowed again when noticed a rather large scar on her stomach. He brushed his thumb across it. "What's this?"

Morgan sucked in a breath as his fingers pressed against her skin. He was so gentle—something she wasn't used to.

"A reminder of a past mistake." She answered quietly, her gaze focused on the crackling flames.

Price was quiet for a moment. "You wanna talk about it?"

Morgan pressed her lips together, feeling a swell of emotion rise in her chest. She hadn't talked to anyone in the 141 about what happened—only her superior from her previous assignment. No one even knew she had a scar there.

No one except Price, now.

"It was an infiltration mission. I was sent in to gather information on an enemy cell to see where they were shipping their firearms and ammunition." She began. "I was in there for two months. I almost had everything I needed when..."

Price nodded slowly, his gaze upon her comforting and understanding. "They caught you, didn't they?"

Morgan sniffed and rubbed her nose, fighting back the tears that threatened to rise in her eyes. Memories that she had buried were starting to resurface—painful ones.

"Yeah.." She whispered shakily. "I don't... um.. I don't remember how long I was in there but... they fucked me up pretty badly. Couldn't walk for weeks after I was rescued. Haven't worn a bikini since." A small, pained chuckle escaped her.

Price lowered his head. "I'm sorry you had to go through that, Morgan." He murmured, his tone somber. After a while, he let out a small sigh and lifted his head to look at her. "Can I tell you something?"

"Only if it's something that's true."

"It is, and you're not allowed to deny it."

A small smile tugged on Morgan's lips as she wiped her eyes. "Alright, hit me."

Price laid his hand over hers, gazing into her eyes. "I think you're beautiful, even with the scar." He said, gently squeezing her hand. "And you'd look damn good in a bikini."

Morgan couldn't help but laugh a little. Tears spilled onto her cheeks and she tried to wipe them away. Price reached over and wiped some of them away with his thumb.

"What's with the waterworks?" He gently teased.

She swatted at his hand, giggling. "You're such a big sweetheart, Price. I love you!"

Upon realizing what she'd said, Morgan's face turned three shades of red as she tried to speak. Meanwhile, Price was just as shocked and hastily crossed his legs, trying to hide something from her.

"I-I didn't mean... I meant to say..." She sputtered, though her attention was drawn to Price's awkward position. Her eyes widened. "Are you...?"

Price turned beet red, his discomfort obvious as he tried not to fidget. He'd been trying to hide it since their conversation began, but this confession had proven to be too much.

"Well, I can't exactly... control it." He awkwardly explained, turning redder by the second. "I'm sor—"

Morgan cut him off by pulling him into a kiss. His eyes widened, then fluttered shut as a rush of lust and bliss surged through him. He wrapped his arms around her, burying his hands in her soft hair.

When they finally broke apart for air, Morgan met Price's gaze. His beautiful blue eyes had that look to them again—a look that asked for permission. She answered him by removing her bra, slipping it over her head and tossing it aside. His eyes wandered all over her as she continued, removing her compression shorts and underwear next.

"God, you're beautiful..." He whispered, taking her in—scars and all.

He pulled her into his lap and kissed her again, standing once she had wrapped her legs around his torso. Carrying her over to the couch, he gently laid her down before stripping himself of his clothes as well. Once everything had been tossed away and he'd gotten a condom (don't ask why he had a condom in his bag), he settled on top of her and leaned forward to kiss her neck.

Price's facial hair tickled Morgan's skin, but that sensation was quickly overwhelmed by the intoxicating sensation of him pressing dozens of kisses in the most sensitive spots. She let out a soft moan and wrapped her arms around his neck, pulling him closer.

In that moment, she no longer cared that she wasn't supposed to be having relations with her superior. No one had to know. No one would know. This would be their dirty little secret.

"F-Fuck, Price... please..~" Morgan moaned, feeling him pressed against her.

"You're an eager one, aren't you...~" Price murmured, the growl in his voice sending shivers down Morgan's spine. "You sure you're ready?"

"Yes! Yes... please.." She begged, relinquishing all self-control.

Price chuckled, pulling his lips away from her neck. He would love her. He would adore her. He would treat her like a goddamn queen because that's what she deserved—the very best.

After lining himself up, he slowly pushed in with a soft grunt. She tensed and let out another moan, tightening her grip on his shoulders. He allowed some time to adjust before starting a gentle pace, slowly rocking his hips and relishing the burst of pleasure he received.

He brushed a few strands of hair out of her face, smiling as he admired her expression of adoration and lust.

"Why do they call you Jackal?" He asked, panting softly.

Morgan released a breathy moan and tilted her head back. "Because I annoyed the shit out of my superiors in boot camp..." She murmured. "And because.. I never knew when to quit."

Price laughed at that, leaning down to press another kiss to her lips.

"Seems fitting, then."

After maintaining a steady pace for some time, Price decided to move a bit faster, grinding his hips into Morgan as his thrusts became stronger and rougher. His pleasured groans and grunts mixed with her moans and whimpers, as well as the soft creaking of the old couch.

"You feel so fucking good, Price~" She gasped, her back arching. "Fuck me harder...~"

Price steadied his arms on either side of Morgan's head and jerked his hips in an especially brutal thrust, feeling the knot in his stomach gradually begin to tighten. Her loud moans of pleasure only spurred him on.

He didn't last much longer, soon reaching his climax with a final jerk of his hips. She followed suit, stars filling her vision as her entire body trembled. Price slowly pulled out after coming down from his high and gazed at her, completely enamored.

They sluggishly cleaned up the aftermath of their activity and promptly fell asleep tangled in each other's limbs, barely clothed but not coherent enough to care.

(Wow, this was a long one—)