#cod merrick

gang goes fishing 🐟🦈

Sorry for the late reply. I had imaging done and an appointment with my hematologist. 22 tubes of blood knocked me into a coma!

Let me know of you'd like me to tweak this ❤️🧡💛💚💙💜❤️🧡💛💚💙💜❤️🧡💛💚💙💜❤️

Keegan P. Russ

Keegan’s quiet. Serious. Calculated.

Which is why it’s a shock when you peek through the cracked door of his quarters and see him on his knees in front of the bed, shirtless, flushed, rutting into his fist.

Your panties, your panties, are stuffed in his mouth just to get a taste of you. He knows it's sick and he shouldn't have taken your clothes from the hamper but god… he lives the taste of you. Your panties are muffling his low grunts as his hips twitch.

He doesn’t notice you at first. He’s so focused, so lost in it.

But then he hears the faint creak of the floor.

His eyes snap up.

He freezes. Then, stone-faced, not a word, he pulls the panties from his mouth, walks over, hands them to you, and shuts the door.

You don’t speak of it. But you definitely notice your underwear keeps disappearing after laundry.

---

Ajax (Alex Johnson)

Ajax is passionate, loud, and a total himbo, but once he finishes? It’s game over.

You walk into his room and find him completely naked, covered in cum, abs streaked, hand still loosely wrapped around his softening dick…

And he’s asleep.

Like out cold.

Snoring faintly, mouth slightly open.

His brows are furrowed like he was really into it, but the man nutted so hard he knocked himself unconscious.

You just stand there in stunned silence. Do you cover him? Leave him? Steal his blanket?

Either way, he has no idea you ever saw him. Unless you tease him about it later, and then he just goes, “Wait WHAT? You saw that? …Was I impressive at least?”

---

Kick (Jonathan Kukowski)

Kick's in bed, lights low, headphones around his neck, phone screen still lit with something definitely not safe for work.

You come in without knocking, thinking he's just working late.

He looks up as you catch him mid-stroke, his cock thick in his hand.

No flinch. No panic. He just gives you a look.

Doesn’t flinch. Doesn’t stop.

Just blinks, smirks, and keeps stroking. Slow, deliberate, never breaking eye contact.

“Didn’t say you had to leave,” he says, voice low and playful. “Kinda like the way you look when you’re speechless.”

He leans back a little further, giving you a full view, letting out a soft groan like he’s performing just for you.

If you stay frozen, he tilts his head: “Come on, sweetheart. You already caught me, might as well enjoy the show.”

---

Merrick

You open Merrick’s door to ask a question and freeze.

He’s lounging in bed, completely naked, cock in hand, chest heaving.

But he doesn’t even look surprised to see you.

“There you are,” he grins, voice deep and warm, “get in here.”

Doesn’t ask. Doesn’t beg. Just opens his arms.

“C’mere, sweetheart. Help me out.”

You stammer, but you’re already moving, because that voice, that confidence, it drags you under like a riptide.

He always wanted you to walk in on him.

Now that you have? He’s not wasting the opportunity.

---

Logan Walker

Poor Logan. Sweet, broody Logan.

He’s under the blanket, flushed, breathing heavy, hips twitching just a little.

You catch the shape of his cock tenting the sheets, huge. Leaking.

His hand freezes the second he notices you.

“Shit…! I didn’t…fuck-” he tries to cover himself, but the bulge only gets more obvious.

His face is crimson. He can’t meet your eyes.

You, on the other hand, can’t look away. Something about his helplessness makes your thighs press together.

You shut the door behind you and crawl onto the bed.

“Let me help you,” you whisper, pulling the blanket down.

Logan gasps as you wrap your lips around his cock, his head falling back in disbelief, soft moans escaping before he can stop them.

---

David “Hesh” Walker

You walk in on Hesh mid-moan, hips snapping up, jerking into his fist like he’s fucking it, panting and sweating.

“Fuck…your pussy…your tight fuckin’ ~oh fuck…”

His eyes open as you step in, and he doesn’t stop.

“Please! fuck, just show me somethin’. Anything,” he begs, voice cracking.

“Lift your shirt! Take off your pants! please, fuck, I’m so close! been thinkin’ about you all week”

He’s desperate. A wreck.

You don’t even get the chance to leave. He’s begging.

And if you give in? If you show him just a sliver of skin?

A/N: I’m bored

CW: periods, talking about period products, fluff and comedy

Y'know keegan being 16 was pretty bad and so was ajax being 17.

Belgian Malanois Hesh who always has on a beanies to hide his ears, and pants that are purposefully a bit loose in the back to hide his wagging tail. You figure out he's a hybrid when one early morning he forgot to tuck his tail into his pants. It's cute how easily excitable he is, but any bit of teasing instantly makes him clam up again which sucks because you'd love to call him a pretty puppy.

Golden Retriever Logan is the next to be found out, but it really wasn't his fault. In washing mud out of the helicopter's rotors, Kick had gotten distracted with the hose, to the point where he was bullying Hesh with it. Logan had been walking with Keegan, but the moment he caught a glimpse of the spraying water he sprinted like a madman to join his brother in attcking it. When asked, all he would sign was 'Enrichment'. The only way he managed to hide his features so well was because his tail and ears were ever-so-slightly longer than Hesh's, and would easily fit under fabric without any fuss.

Brown Bear Merrick who doesn't really have any physical traits outside of being large and hairy, but mentioned it offhandedly after Hesh and Logan are found out. It made a lot of sense, especially considering how much raw fish he ate. It also explained how he could sleep so easily despite being in an active warzone. He gave a mean-spirited laugh when you said he had an unfair biological advantage, telling you to "Get better at sleeping, then.".

Desert Horned Lizard Kick who genuinely didn't know he was a hybrid until, when snuck up on by an enemy on a mission, his eyeballs shot blood. Like Merrick, he didn't have any physical traits indicative of a hybrid, but unlike the bear he completely misunderstood his instincts. He grew up in the south, there was no shortage of warm places for him to lay down on. It explained a lot about himself, though. Like why he always got so lethargic during tje winter, or why his diet felt so unfulfilling. A specialized smoothie mix meant for bug-eating hybrids and a heat lamp for when base got cold was thankfully enough for him.

Mountain Lion Ajax who, upon Merrick's confession, decided to come clean himself. He didn't have any ears on the top of his head, but his tail was long and fluffy and all across his skin were patches of soft fur that were usually kept hidden. His biggest problem? Cougars are usually nocturnal. Fantastic for night missions, but since most missions were in broad daylight he had been fucking up his sleep schedule. Like Merrick, it explained a lot about the man- like why he ate so much gamey meat, and why he preferred recon missions where he could 'stalk his prey' as Hesh had put it.

Black Cat Keegan who never says anything, but noticeably bristles when anyone other than Ajax touches him. It isn't until you walk into Keegan's room, looking for tips on sniping and instead finding the sniper curled up against the cougar, that you finally understand. His jet black ears and tail match his hair and are also adorable give away just how genuinely relaxed he is. Turns out, cat instincts don't differentiate between big or little cat, and the reason why the two are so close is because of hybrid reasons!

There is no rhyme or reason, just ✨vibes✨

Keegan: Cheese Grater

Hesh: Earthworm

Kick: Fuzzy Wuzzy

Logan: Unmellow Yellow

Ajax: Black

Merrick: Raw Umber

Torch: Outrageous Orange

Grim: Eggplant

Neptune: GoldenRod

Ghost: Dingy Dungeon

Soap: Ogre Odor

Gaz: Gargoyle Gas

Price: Pesto

Roach: Dirt (or Bluetonium)

Laswell: Razzmatazz

(And one of my friend’s oc is Sharpening Pencils)

König: Purple Mountains’ Majesty

Alejandro: Campfire Flicker