#thomas merrick cod

KICK-

Kick freezes so hard it’s like someone unplugged his brain.

He blinks once

twice

three times

…and then laughs because SURELY you’re joking.

“Ha. Haha. Very funny. You almost got me. A baby? With me? A whole baby-baby? With little socks and a squishy face and-”

You stare at him, dead serious.

His whole expression changes like Windows 98 switching screens. His eyebrows drop. His mouth shuts. His posture straightens an inch.

“Oh. Oh you’re serious.”

You nod.

He inhales like he’s leveling up in real time.

Chest expands. Eyes narrow. Brain cells assemble.

Kick. Locks. In.

His voice drops an octave.

“Okay. Let’s talk about timing. Vitamins. Nursery colors. I can build a crib. No, wait, TWO cribs. Just in case.”

He’s so dead-focused it’s actually kind of hot.

Until he suddenly blurts-

“But also- I can make dad jokes during labor, right? I have a few and I wanna see if they land.”

---

LOGAN-

You tell him soft, maybe while you two are curled up on the couch.

He instantly goes tomato red.

Like red-red.

Like full sunburn.

His lips part like he’s trying to speak but forgot English altogether.

“I… a baby? With me?”

His voice cracks.

You nod again.

He looks down, shy smile creeping in, rubbing the back of his neck like he’s grounding himself before he floats away.

“I’d… like that too.”

And it’s so quiet, so earnest, you swear you just discovered his final heart-melting form.

He pulls you close, hides his face in your neck because he’s too overwhelmed but he’s smiling like crazy.

---

HESH

You say the words:

“I want to have a baby with you.”

And without hesitation, zero pause, zero thought-

Hesh stands up so fast the chair FALLS OVER.

“GET NAKED!”

He’s already taking his shirt off.

He is dead serious.

Mission accepted.

Operation: Breeding Commence.

You tell him you didn’t mean right this second.

“Yes we do,” he says, already undoing his belt.

“My dad says strike while the iron is hot.”

“Dont bring your dad into this!!”

He does not care.

---

KEEGAN

You open your mouth.

You take a breath.

“Keeg-”

He’s already naked.

Already hard.

Already breathing like he’s preparing for a military op.

“You want a baby,” he says flatly.

Not a question. A statement.

You blink.

“Yes but I didn’t even-”

“I can tell what you were gonna ask me. My pants fell off automatically.”

He steps forward like this is instinct coded into his DNA.

“We start now.”

No hesitation.

No confusion.

Just hungry polar bear in the arctic

---

MERRICK

You tell him gently.

He takes a long breath. Nods once. Serious face engaged.

“Well, alright. We’ll need to examine finances, redistribution of responsibilities, reassess risk levels, consider maternity leave structures, cost of childcare, future college savings, possibly adjust the insurance plan-”

He’s pacing.

He’s in full dad-planning mode.

He’s got spreadsheets open in his mind.

You walk behind him and kiss his neck.

He falters midsentence.

“…and… um… projected housing stability… in… uh… current-”

Another kiss.

His voice drops.

“-current fiscal… projections…”

Another kiss, slower.

He grips the table like that’s the last lifeline he has.

“…you’re doing that on purpose.”

You kiss his jaw.

He loses.

“Never mind the finances. Bedroom. Now.”

AJAX-

You tell him softly.

“Alex… I want to have a baby with you.”

Ajax goes silent for a full two seconds, which is actually just his brain rebooting because this man was NOT ready to hear the love of his life say something that serious and that beautiful.

Then he lights up.

Like full sunshine.

Like a golden retriever that just got promoted.

“Wait… for real? With ME?”

You nod.

And he explodes.

“OH SHIT! oh shit okay-hold on-”

He’s already pulling out his phone.

“Who are you calling?”

You raise an eyebrow.

“I need to tell Keegan.”

You stare at him.

“Yeah, please tell your other wife.”

He snorts, actually SNORTS, laughing as he hits the call button.

The phone rings.

Keegan answers with his usual emotionally constipated grunt of “Yeah?”

Ajax is practically vibrating.

“BRO guess what? I’m having a BABY.”

There’s a pause.

“…with who?” Keegan asks, even though he KNOWS.

Ajax rolls his eyes.

“With Y/N, dumbass.”

Keegan: “Okay. Good. Congratulations.”

Ajax covers the speaker and whispers to you, giddy:

“He’s smiling. He’s pretending he’s not but he totally is.”

You whisper back:

“You two sound like you’re about to pick wedding colors.”

Ajax swats you with a grin and goes back to the phone.

“Bro you’re gonna be the godfather.”

“I already assumed,” Keegan responds.

They’re both laughing now.

You’ve lost them completely.

You may as well leave them alone to plan the baby shower.

Ajax finally hangs up, presses his forehead to yours, still grinning like a man who just won the emotional lottery.

“Baby… we’re gonna be parents.”

Guys it’s Kratos i mean Merrick

I couldn't decide if I wanted funny or feral… so I went with both!

🤍 Funny Reactions

♡ Keegan P. Russ

He’s trying to be normal. He’s TRYING. But you walk in and the man short circuits.

Blank stare. Slow blink. Drops whatever is in his hands. Phone? Gone. His soul? Left his body.

“…What the fuck… you tryin’ to kill me?”

Tries to act cool. Fails. His foot catches on the damn bedframe trying to get to you.

Bonus: Because he’s a panties-in-the-pocket kinda guy. You’ll catch him sneaking them later like a crow hoarding shiny things.

♡ Alex “Ajax” Johnson

“Oh, hell YEAH!” Full-blown party mode. He’s clapping like a seal and gassing you up, “Look at you! Fuck a snack! You're looking like a whole damn buffet!”

Trips over his own shoes trying to tackle-hug you. Probably flexes his biceps for no reason at all.

Keeps saying dumb shit like “My heart can’t take this” while visibly thriving.

♡ Jonathan “Kick” Kukowski

Immediately takes a picture.

“Gotta… document this… for science.”

You snatch his phone, but he’s already got it memorized like a certified little freak.

Bonus: Accidentally blurts out that he is gonna buy you a lingerie that looks like rita repulsa mid-compliment and now you’re both blushing idiots.

♡ Thomas Merrick

Slow, controlled inhale.

“…You wearing that for me or planning on giving me a goddamn heart attack?”

Lips twitch like he’s trying not to smile. One eyebrow goes up. You get the silent nod of “you’re mine now.”

Will definitely say some old man line like, “Didn’t know Christmas came early.”

♡ Logan Walker

Immediate deer-in-headlights. His brain pulls the emergency brake.

Looks you up and down then immediately looks AWAY because this man is shy.

“Uhh… fuck… you… you look… yeah… that’s illegal…”

He’ll mutter “Goddamn” under his breath every five seconds.

♡ David “Hesh” Walker

Whistles, hoots, and hollers like you just walked onto the Super Bowl halftime show.

“DAMN, baby! Who you tryna seduce like that? …Oh wait… ME.”

borderline barking like a feral dog.

he will pick you up like you weigh nothing and take you to his bed.

---

🔥 NSFW Reactions

◇Keegan P(ussy destroyer) Russ

Full-on predator mode. You don’t get two steps in before you’re pinned. Doesn’t even let you take the damn thing off—he just moves it aside.

“You wanted attention… you’re gonna get it, sweetheart.”

The type to fuck you with one leg over his shoulder, growling in your ear while tugging at the lingerie so you hear it stretch. Expect some light ripping and an aftercare lingerie shopping spree.

You barely make it to the bedroom before you’re flat on your back with his teeth on your neck, snarling like a starved wolf.

“Fucking knew you’d pull something like this… thought you could walk around dressed like that and not get fucked stupid?”

You don’t get kisses. you get bites. Not romantic, claiming bites. He’s pulling your hair, folding you in half, fucking you until you’re sobbing, shaking, apologizing for teasing him.

Breed Me™ intensity. Ruined sheets. Scent all over you. Whispers in your ear: “Look how much cum I stuffed in you. Pretty little thing made to take every drop.”

◇ Ajax

Pure, unhinged enthusiasm. Man is so vocal. dirty talking, moaning, worshipping every inch of you.

“God, you’re gonna fucking kill me,” while literally acting like you just gave him oxygen after years underwater.

Will make sure you come twice before he even thinks about getting his dick wet. Loves you perched on his lap, bouncing like his personal pornstar.

This man loses his GODDAMN MIND. Clothes? Gone. Bed? Optional. He’s got you bent over the kitchen counter, one hand choking you while the other’s yanking your panties to the side.

“Put this shit on just for me, huh? You’re a fucking problem, baby.”

He’s laughing. cocky, mean, taunting all while your knees buckle under you. Doesn’t stop until you’re incoherent, drooling, probably asking any God that will listen for forgiveness.

Finishes all over your back, wipes it off with the lingerie, puts it back on you, and makes you strut around the house wearing nothing but his cum.

◇ Kick

Feral gremlin energy unlocked. Will beg you to keep it on. “Keep it on, just… fuck, keep it on for me.”

He’s a nasty talker. praise, filth, the works. Loves fucking you in front of a mirror so you “see what you’re doing to him.”

Eats you out like it’s his last meal, panties pushed to the side, legs shaking.

Immediately on his knees. tongue out, eyes glassy like a feral pup. “Gonna fucking wreck you, sweetheart… fuck, I’m gonna make you forget your name.”

You’re pinned against the mirror, panties to the side, thighs trembling while he devours you like a man possessed. Multiple orgasms before his cock even comes out.

When it does? Hoooo boy….all the positions i talkin’ mating press, facing the mirror, hair yanked back so you watch yourself fall apart. Spits in your mouth mid-thrust, tells you to “swallow it like a good girl.”

Leaves bite marks everywhere, panties ruined, and you can’t walk for two days.

◇ Merrick

Slow… intense… dangerous. He undresses you piece by piece like a goddamn romance novel villain.

“Gonna ruin you so good you forget your own name.”

Makes you ride him while he’s sitting back, big hands guiding your hips, whispering how fucking perfect you look. Strong praise kink, will literally make you cry in the best way.

Growls in your ear, voice dark and filthy, “You know exactly what you’re doing. Now take what’s coming to you.”

You get pinned against the wall. legs shaking, drooling, begging. while his hands are everywhere: choking, spanking, owning.

No breaks. Fucks you through the mattress. Presses you down with his full weight, breeding you so deep you swear you feel him in your throat.

Nasty praise: “That’s it, let your Commander ruin you. Gonna make you my personal cumdump. You like that? Yeah, you do, you filthy little fucking slut~”

◇ Logan Walker

Shy at first… then you awaken the monster.

Loves it when you take charge. straddling him, pulling ?

“On your knees. Now.”

The MOST possessive. loves seeing you marked up, crying on his cock with lingerie straps cutting into your skin. Will mutter things like “this pussy was made for me”

Soft-spoken assassin turns into an absolute demon. Zero patience. You’re manhandled onto all fours, ass up.

No warm-up, just primal, relentless, balls-deep thrusts that knock the air out of your lungs. Growling filth in your ear, using you, making you feel it in your gut.

Grabs your jaw, makes you open your mouth, spits in it and mutters, “Mine. All fucking mine.”

Afterwards? You’re limp, brainless, covered in sweat and spit, while Logan just smirks and holds you tenderly like he didn't just fuck the soul out of you.

◇ Hesh Walker

Absolute menace. He’s giddy but vicious.

Bends you over the nearest surface, absolutely rails you while spanking you and praising you all at once.

“You know how hot you are? Jesus… no way I’m letting you leave this bed for hours.”

His goal is to make you cum so much your legs give out …and he will succeed.

Rabid frat-boy energy turns into apex predator sex god. He throws you over his shoulder like a caveman, slaps your ass raw, laughing while you squeal.

“Y’know what happens when you tease me like that? You get fucking wrecked, sweetheart.”

You’re crying on his cock, getting fucked through overstimulation, thighs quivering, mascara running, back arched so hard it cramps.

Feral dirty talk: “Gimme that pretty little cunt, baby. Take it. Take every inch. yeah, you love being ruined like this, don’t you? Ruined by a big man!”

I am so sorry! I was putting together a story of Hesh's emotional aftermath.

The roar of the extraction choppers usually sounded like salvation, but to David, it sounded like a funeral dirge. The downdraft from the rotors whipped the sand into a blinding frenzy, stinging his eyes, but he didn't blink. He couldn't. If he closed his eyes, the image of Logan’s fingers trailing through the dirt would be scorched into his eyelids forever.

"Hesh! Talk to me, kid!"

Merrick was the first one to hit the sand, his boots heavy and rhythmic as he sprinted toward the treeline.

He skidded to a stop, his shadow falling over David’s crumpled form. He looked around wildly, his rifle raised, scanning the dense green wall of the jungle for the younger Walker.

"Where’s Logan? Hesh, where is he?"

David didn't answer. He couldn't. His throat was a mess of salt and raw grief. He just kept clawing at the dirt, his broken nails digging into the shallow ruts where Logan had fought to stay.

Merrick knelt, grabbing David by the shoulder to roll him over. "David, look at me! Where is your brother?"

The touch snapped something inside him. David didn’t see a comrade; he saw the world that had failed to protect the only person he had left. He swung a weak, clumsy fist, catching Merrick in the side of the head. It lacked power, but it was fueled by a jagged, hysterical fury.

"Get off me!" David shrieked, the sound tearing out of his chest like a physical wound. "Don't touch me! Go get him! He’s right there! He’s right there!"

He tried to lunge toward the trees, his body spasming in a grotesque crawl. He was lashing out at everything, Merrick’s hands, the medics rushing over with a stretcher, the very air itself. He kicked his good leg, spraying sand, snapping his teeth like a cornered animal when a medic tried to pin his shoulders down.

"Easy, Hesh! Easy! You’re into shock!" the medic shouted, reaching for a sedative.

"He’s not dead!" David screamed, his voice cracking into a high, thin wail that made Merrick flinch. "Rorke has him! He took him! You let him take him! Why weren't you here? Where were you?!"

David’s fingers curled into the front of Merrick’s vest, bunching the fabric, pulling the older man down into his orbit of agony. His eyes were bloodshot and wild, darting toward the dark treeline and back to Merrick’s face.

"He broke his arm, Thomas," David whispered, the anger suddenly collapsing into a fragile, terrifying whimpering. "I heard it break. I heard him scream for me and I just... I just watched. I watched him go."

"Medics, now!" Merrick barked, his own voice thick with a rare, trembling edge. He looked at the jungle, then back at the broken boy in the sand. He realized with a sickening hollow in his gut that the ruts in the sand weren't just tracks; they were the last moments of the Walker bloodline being torn apart.

"Let me go!" David started up again, his struggle becoming more frantic as the sedative began to prick his skin. He thrashed against the straps of the stretcher, his eyes fixed on the green abyss where Logan had vanished. "Logan! LOGAN!"

The scream was cut short as the drugs hit his system, his head lolling back against the nylon. But even as his eyes drifted shut, his fingers remained hooked like talons, clutching a handful of the sand where his brother had last been whole.

Merrick stood up, his face as hard as stone, staring into the trees as the choppers began to lift. He knew Rorke. He knew what was coming for the boy in the jungle. And he knew that the man currently unconscious on the stretcher would never truly wake up from this beach.

The door to the medical bay hissed open, a sound that usually signaled the arrival of a nurse with another round of dulling sedatives. But the heavy, rhythmic thud of combat boots on the linoleum told David exactly who it was. He didn't move. He stayed curled on his side, his gaze fixed on a microscopic scratch on the bedside rail.

Merrick didn’t say anything at first. He pulled over a metal stool, the screech of it against the floor sounding like a serrated blade. He sat down, his large frame hunched, his gloved hands resting on his knees. The silence between them wasn't the comfortable quiet of two soldiers who had survived a war; it was a vast, yawning canyon filled with the things they both knew but couldn't fix.

"The doc says your lungs are clearing up," Merrick said, his voice unusually low, stripped of its usual command-deck authority. "A few more days, and they’ll move you to a recovery ward."

David’s jaw tightened. "Get out."

Merrick didn’t flinch. He didn’t even sigh. He just sat there, a steady, unwanted presence. "Hesh. You need to eat something."

At the sound of his nickname, David snapped. He bolted upright, his ribs firing a warning shot of agony that made his vision swim, but he pushed through it. He shoved the tray of untouched food off the bedside table. The plastic bowl of broth shattered, splashing against Merrick’s boots.

"I said get out!" David’s voice was a jagged glass edge. "What are you even doing here, Merrick? Coming to check on the survivor? Coming to tell me we did a good job?"

Merrick looked down at the mess on his boots, then back up at David. There was no anger in his eyes, only a weary, hollow understanding that infuriated David even more.

"I’m here because I’m not leaving you alone," Merrick said quietly.

"I am alone!" David roared, his good hand fisted in the thin hospital sheets. "My dad is dead. My brother is... he’s in the dark, Merrick! He’s with that monster because you weren't fast enough! Because I wasn't strong enough!" He choked on the last word, his chest heaving. "There’s no 'us' anymore. There’s no Ghost team. It’s just me. And I’ve got nothing left to say to you."

He wanted Merrick to yell back. He wanted a fight, a reason to vent the poisonous grief that was rotting him from the inside out. He wanted Merrick to tell him he was being out of line, to act like a commander.

But Merrick just looked at him. He saw the way David’s hand was shaking. He saw the hollowed-out look in the kid’s eyes, the look of a boy who had watched his entire world get dragged into the trees. Merrick remembered Elias. He remembered a younger, greener Rorke. He knew that some holes were too deep to be filled with platitudes or military honors.

"You're right," Merrick said, his voice thick. "I wasn't fast enough. And there isn't a single thing I can say that's going to make that beach go away."

He stood up slowly, the metal stool scraping again. He didn't offer a hand or a pat on the shoulder; he knew David would probably try to bite it off. He reached into his pocket and placed something on the edge of the bed. It was a small, blackened piece of fabric, a charred Ghost patch from the wreckage.

"I can't fix it, David. I won't even try," Merrick said, turning toward the door. "But when you're ready to go get him back... I'll be waiting by the birds."

The door hissed shut behind him.

The boys as hockey players featuring Elias and Rorke

Keegan

Defenseman. Quiet, mean, impossible to move off the puck. Takes hits like a brick wall with a pulse. Doesn’t celly much, just gives one dead-eyed nod after absolutely flattening someone into the boards. Secretly tapes his stick with obsessive precision.

Ajax

Power forward. Big, fast, loud, charming. The guy chirping opponents while grinning through his mouthguard. Scores greasy net-front goals and immediately points at Keegan like, “THAT WAS FOR YOU, BABY.” Beloved by fans. Menace in the locker room.

Merrick

Goalie. No debate. Terrifyingly calm. Veteran presence. Stares down shooters like they personally disappointed him. Post-game interviews are three-word answers. Has the ugliest, most sacred superstition routine known to man. Think Sidney Crosby but... worse.

Kick

Agitating winger. Not the biggest, not the strongest, but he’s fast, slippery, and psychologically damaging. Chirps so specific players leave the ice questioning their life choices. Keeps trying illegal stick modifications “for science.” Chews his mouthguard to absolute hell.

Logan

Two-way center. Smart, disciplined, quietly nasty when needed. Excellent vision, beautiful passing, responsible defensively. Looks innocent until he steals the puck and ruins your entire shift.

Hesh

Stay-at-home defenseman. Protective as hell. Always between Logan and trouble. Blocks shots like he has no survival instinct. The guy who grabs someone by the jersey after a late hit and says, very calmly, “Don’t touch my brother.”

Elias

Old-school coach. Gruff, strategic, terrifying clipboard energy. Gives speeches that make grown men sit up straighter. Would absolutely say, “You play for the man beside you,” and somehow make everyone ready to die on the ice.

Rorke

The Ghost boys definitely each have a few of those little quirks that’s just ick central for their love, stuff that makes you pause like “…really?” but, I mean, you love them anyway.

_______

Keegan Russ

He eats like an animal sometimes (all the time) especially steak or ribs. Doesn’t even notice the sauce smeared at the corner of his mouth, talking stoically like nothing’s wrong.

Mr. President of dry texter-ville, like just “ok” or “k.” Drives you nuts!

Sleeps in socks…. And not clean socks.

_______

Alex “Ajax” Johnson

Survivor of a man cold… he's got the sniffles? Nah he has consumption and rickets and he's on his death bed

Drinks milk with dinner. Like a full grown man pairing his burger with a glass of milk. (McPoyle levels) Then lies on the couch going “my tummy!”

Leaves beard trimmings in the sink and swears he’ll “get it later.” He does not.

________

Jonathan “Kick” Kukowski

Loud. Sneezer. Enough said.

Laughs at his own jokes so hard he cries before anyone else even gets it. Like full on wheeze halfway through the fucking buildup of the joke.

Has those ancient gamer headsets that smell like death. Refuses to buy a new one because “this one still works.” it's a Turtle Beach on it's last legs…

_______

Thomas Merrick

Dad noises. Stretches and groans like a sixty-year-old man even though he’s not.

Wears cargo shorts with every possible pocket filled. Keys, knife, chapstick, beef jerky A CHOCOLATE BAR ONCE. you're like how is this attractive again?

Says “let’s circle back” in casual conversation like he’s in a business meeting.

_______

Logan Walker

Eats the toppings off pizza and leaves the crusts behind like a picky kid.

Cannot for the life of him put the toilet seat down. It’s a battle.

Always fiddling with his gear or knife while you’re trying to talk to him, not even realizing it.

_______

David “Hesh” Walker

Overuses slang ironically… and then it stops being ironic. He’ll say “bruh” in bed.

Uses way too much cologne/body spray. like teenage boy at the mall levels.

Please tell me someone listens to SOAD 🙏🙏

Oh! I have a Keegan fic in the works where hes watching TV (when its actually on) and he discovers nine inch nails! But angsty teen Keegan would be a SOAD fan... because I love SOAD.

Keegan:

Whatever was on Fuze... he saw a music video once when his mom actually paid for cable. He became even more angsty. SOAD, Linkin Park, and Nine Inch Nails... but dont think this motherfucker doesn't love Kesha.

Music is private for him. Headphones on. World off.

Kick:

Unironically listens to Ska and chiptune but also loves Fall Out Boy! This guy is a MENACE with music. Fuck he could even have the coworker music moniker.

I need you to understand that this man will go from Panic! At the Disco to a 2008 Newgrounds chiptune remix

Ajax:

Alanis. Morissette.

I mean yeah along with popular reggae and dancehall artists he heard growing up in a Jamaican household this big softie is the proud owner of "Jagged Little Pill"

He was in the shower with Alanis on while he exfoliated.

Logan:

Very similar to Keegan, slipknot, SOAD, my chemical Romance. But also emo bands. Was he an emo kid (nonconformist as can be)? Yeah but only in theory. He was not gonna have hair in his eyes in an Elias Walker home. But Asking Alexandria was played at high volume when dad wasnt home. And Logan got his ass beat by Hesh who just wanted some peace and fucking quiet.

Hesh:

Im gonna assume his nickname is a hint. He loves punk music. Sex pistols, Black Flag (he wanted to fuck on the floor and break shit like Henry Rollins) Dead Kennedys. He was such a little edgelord. Buddy your dad's the machine youre raging against.

Merrick: