#buckal

[spiritfoxarts]

RSS HS - Buckal

Buck x Jackal!!~ My beloved OTP

I’m sorry for shitty shading, but I don’t care if it’s messy - I just missed them!! ^w^ Remember what I said about picking up your ships from shelf? Still the same joy!

I hope You enjoy your ships as much. :)

[grain-crain-drain]

5 things for Buck/jackal? :>

ヽ(•▽•)ノ

5 Things to ask for a ship

Buck/Jackal

They notice how their code names are of an animal. Buck insist that it’s for buckshot, not a male deer buck but Jackal insists, “Head strong, proud with puffed-up chest. Yup, you are a buck.” Buck lets out a guffaw and asks what if his big antler gets stuck on tree branches, to which Jackal replies, “Even if it does, I’ll stand by you so no wolves can approach. You’re my prey and mine alone.”

Buck never thought he would fall for someone suave and flirty in other words, a buttery casanova such as Jackal. He assumed Jackal to be those kind who regards love interests as play things, so he swore to not fall under the Spanish magic, the fragrant breeze that exudes midnight summer heat. Whenever Jackal inched in closer, Buck stood on his spot to watch the other man stride past. But oh, how wrong he was! The supposed lover-man never approached Buck for a mere game. It was Buck who enarmoured Jackal with an exterior of a great mountain. A deep snowy forest that has fierce predators and resilient preys. Buck possesses wisdom and a sense of reality, and that painted him reliable and honest.

Jackal pretends to be asleep when Buck joins him in bed. He often slips out from the loosened grasp for a smoke, or deep contemplation at the mercy of bewitching hours. It’s been a month since they started dating and Jackal hears Buck’s muffled snore. As he decides to sneak out again, he feels a tight wrap around his waste and a mumble, “You can smoke here, if you want. Or talk to me.” 

Buck really doesn’t mean to be intimidating, but he has an image of a young Santa Claus who’s just returned from a war against Krampus. This is a bit of disadvantage when he goes out for a coffee in café because he makes children cry. Every single one of them whenever he stares at them. Of course there’s not a speck of malice - Buck just looked around like a person would when they daydream. This is where Jackal comes in to save the day. The Spaniard lavishes the child with cheap magic tricks and small songs (and the parents are also charmed by such handsome man.) When Buck asks if he’s that scary, Jackal says, “Not really. Children are still learning to appreciate good things in life, so don’t blame them.”

Jackal tries to smoke less ever since Buck cut all the strands off. At first he was beyond furious, but Buck reasons with him. At first with all the logic and health facts, then an emotional plea. “You don’t need these. We don’t need them. I want us to last longer than what short lives we have on battlefields.” 

[incorrect-r6s]

Jackal: Come here often?

Buck: We are in my home.

[somebodyoflittleconsequence-blog]

Indescribable

Birthdays had never been a big deal for Ryad. The only happy memories that came with the anniversary of his birth had ever been celebrated with Faisal and even those were tinged with a bittersweetness brought on by his death. And to have a reminder that he was getting old, that it would start to become increasingly difficult to do his job was something he loathed. Forty-nine? It was ridiculous to believe that he was a year away from fifty, half a century. He wasn’t a young man anymore, and yet…

A breath escaped him as lips closed over the hard plane of his chest, accompanied with the soft caress of his lover’s beard. If his birthday meant that he could wake to the reality of this relationship every day he would gladly age. If he was honest with himself, any morning not accompanied by the urgent reminder of an upcoming mission was typically built up by the early morning caress of hands and loving press of lips that Ryad was almost sure he could live off of. This morning had not been much different except for the fact that Sébastian had made it his mission to take his time and made sure the Spaniard basked in the sheer heavenly pleasure that he brought to the bedroom. As Jackal came down from his high, chest rising and falling with deep panting breaths of satisfaction, Sébastian continued his worship of the man who shared his bed. An open-mouthed kiss pressed hot and wet against his neck and Ryad groaned, gripped the back of his lover’s hair, pulling him back to kiss him fully, lips moving in an endless exploration of his skin. It was a feeling he was sure was committed to memory, even if he had never intended for it to happen.

They broke apart, Ryad’s expression almost awed, only to be met with a near smirk on Sébastian’s lips. “You’re perfection…” the Spaniard whispered, voice rough with sleep and desire and the myriad of other emotions that swirled in his chest. “I don’t deserve you, mi amor…” Buck’s eyes darkened a tint and he nudged his nose against Ryad’s with a grin.

“Non, mon cher. It is I who don’t deserve you.”

Lips moved together in a slow kiss that promised a crescendo, only to be broken by the French-Canadian as he moved out of bed. Ryad groaned again, reaching for the empty space but making no real effort to move. It was his birthday after all.

“No me dejes,” he murmured with no real conviction, instead opting to watch Sébastian walk across their shared room with nothing but his pride, the younger operative shooting back a teasing, “I don’t know what that means.”

Dios mio, he was lovely to look at. His dark gaze never left the other man as Sébastian opened up the closet and dug around inside. Fishing in the pocket of his favorite coat, Buck’s expression went from bright to concerned, the look twisting his features as he frowned. Despite the obvious panic beginning to rise in his lover, Ryad had to admit the bunch and release of the muscles of his back as he sifted through the other items in the closet was a welcome sight. He was about to ask if he could help when Buck pulled back, a triumphant look on his handsome face. It was almost enough to take Jackal’s breath away. Perhaps heaven was real with such perfection in the world.

“Close your eyes, Ryad,” Sébastian commanded softly and oh, if he could compel him to do anything when he spoke with such firm confidence. But Ryad would never tell him that. Instead, he sank into the pillows of the bed, throwing an arm over his eyes in compliance to the request. A grin pulled his mouth at such a childish game. He was sure it was surprise, why else have him close his eyes? What else could Sébastian possibly have planned when they had already moved past their earlier lovemaking?

The bed dipped near his left hip and it was difficult to suppress the urge to peek. Instead, his pulse picked up in a way that was very different from the adrenaline of a mission. It was the only time he felt light, breathless, alive in a way that made him feel like nothing could ever go wrong. The soldier in him was so very aware of the other body in the room, the way the warmth of Buck’s body was exactly next to his own, the way that his face must be close because of the soft puff of breath that fanned against his cheek. Warmth radiated in his chest, only fanned as one of Sébastian’s hands rested just above his heart, accompanied by the soft weight of something. Dios mio, is that a box…?

“You know I’m not one to tiptoe…” came Buck’s voice, his breath caressing Ryad’s ear as he spoke in a low rumble, “I know what I want and I want you, Ryad. For today, for tomorrow, and for every day after…”

It mattered little to Jackal if his eyes were supposed to remain closed because the words spilling from Buck’s lips were too much for him and his eyes sprang open to stare at the ceiling, breath quickening as the young man continued to speak.

“I hope you will say yes, but know that a no will not change the way I feel about you. I love you, Ryad and I want you forever from this day forward. Will you-”

“Yes.”

It was a breathed word, barely audible but perhaps the most impactful syllable spoke in either of their lives. Ryad had turned his face coming nose to nose with Sébastian, his gaze intense almost to the point of ferocity. It was Sébastian’s turn to look on in awe, his jaw tightening with emotion as if he couldn’t believe the answer would have been that easy. Jackal broke the stillness of the moment as he reached for his lover, pulling him down for a deep kiss, the box sliding into the sheets forgotten for the moment. What was a ring anyway except for a physical symbol of something they already had?

“Yes, yes, forever yes,” he chanted against Sébastian’s mouth, eyes still intensely gazing into the vast blue of the other’s. “You will never be rid of me, Sébastian. For this day and every day after you will be mine and I will be yours.”

As their lips met, a thought crossed Jackal’s mind before giving way to the warm glow of bliss.

There must be a God for him to be this lucky.

[asenatheoperator]

Buck thinking Jackal cheating on him: I found his credit card statement. There's a charge for a restaurant called La Palapa. Two entrees. One flan. Caliber: One flan? Buck: One flan. Caliber: That's cold. Asena looking at them: Yeah. Cold. I'm so confused. Both: They shared the flan! Asena: Oooh yeah, right..HOW DARE HIM?!

[starplatinums-theworld]

They schleep

[rainbowsixrage]

hE Y, YOU REMEMBER HOW THAT ONE TIME YOU RUINED JACKAL AND BUCK? HOW ABOUT SOME JACKAL AND BUCK WITH LESS ANGST :U or u know, not honey nut feelio childhood angst, pls, also thank

Indeed I do remember hurting my bois ;))

Things were always chaotic around the base, constant screaming, the occasional explosion, it all the same. Sébastien spent his time in the kitchen, making a are helping of pancakes for the people that woke up late today. Luckily, it wasn’t too many. It wasn’t hard to spot who was missing from the mess hall. Everyone gave off a certain tone that couldn’t be missed, but like always, Ryad didn’t show up for breakfast. It wasn’t surprising, to say the least. His sleeping problems have been well noted throughout the base, it never seemed like Ryad cared much about the whispers. James took a plate and shoved half in his mouth, muttering a thanks before running off.

The last batch of pancakes was completed and plated when Ryad finally arrived at the mess hall. He looked like he’d been through hell, with dark bags underneath his eyes along with unkempt hair and wrinkled clothing. Sébastien put out the good maple syrup and prepared a cup of coffee for the Spaniard.

Ryad sat down on the barstools facing the counter, stifling a yawn. “Rough night?” Sébastien asked, placing the food down on the

“I guess you could say that’” Ryad murmured, taking a sip of the coffee.

Sébastien took the spot next to Ryad and placed rested his head on his hands, turning to look at the Spaniard. He never noticed how pretty Ryad’s eyes were, like light, molten chocolate.

~

Sébastien found Ryad in the lounge the next day at nearly eleven at night, drinking a glass of water with a somber expression. He walked over to the cabinet by the television and took out a plush blanket. He held it in his arms, slowly making his way to Ryad. The Spaniard looked up to Sébastien as he came closer, smiling gently. He placed his glass of water on the coffee table. Sébastien sat down next to him and pulled Ryad in closer, resting his head on his lap, draping the blanket over him, running his hands through Ryad’s hair. “You need to try to sleep,” Buck murmured, leaning back into the couch. Ryad hummed softly and closed his eyes, both falling asleep soon after.

[grain-crain-drain]

Day 12 - "Don't move."

On their fourth day of camping out in Sepaq forest, Jackal’s heart races as he discovers fresh tracks. An upside-down heart shape with concave sides. The front tips are pointy and located towards the inside of the track. 

“Amor, look!” Jackal taps on Buck, “This must be a deer.”

“Sure is.” Buck shines a smile and tiptoes to plant a kiss on the Spaniard’s messy hair. Despite only spending two days to study the footprint diagrams, Jackal radiates pure talent in learning how to track. If Buck plans to return the police force with a reminder course of his criminology degree, him and Jackal could open up their own private detective services. Although that's a daydream to discuss sometime later in comfort because they aren’t about to miss out on venison steak for tomorrow’s lunch.

“Sun sets fast here.” Jackal observes the surrounding that’s succumbing in a gradient of orange and navy blue. 

“That’s how it is in the forest,” Buck watches his breath evaporating in a fog. As he unlocks the safety on a marksman rifle, Jackal follows and does the same, “We better finish this before it’s too late.”

Jackal nods and stands behind Buck to follow the expert’s trail on making the least amount of noise, “Lead the way.”

Thus they set off, sneaking around the trees while stepping on tree roots and sizeable chunks of wood rather than leafy spots. The footprints are irregular at best, and yet Jackal begins to notice an odd pattern that wasn’t obvious at first. As they travel further into the denser part of woods, those hoof marks gradually narrow their gaps. Two hooves are aligned side by side and the next pair appears a good ten centimeters ahead. It’s as if someone used a custom-made stamp to leave such a trail.

“This isn’t right.” Buck halts and whispers.

“These tracks. That’s not how a quadrupedal walk,” Jackal crouches for better details, “It’s almost like this deer stopped being a deer. Is it hopping?”

A snapping noise jerks them away from the ground. Leaves rustle and the sound of breaking branches become louder, but there’s a doubt that those branches are thin and frail. Each cracklings are slow and deliberate as if someone’s putting an effort to break thicker ones with strengths that no deer can possess.

Buck backtracks on his steps and gestures Jackal to crouch behind a nearby bush. As he ensures that Jackal is completely hidden, he finds one for himself on the opposite side, “Don’t move.” He mouths the words before ducking back into the bush. 

Two operators remain standby with rifles tight in their grips, absolutely motionless just like how they plan ambush during the attacking phase. No one dares to blink while watching the road they were standing just a few minutes ago. They also observe the space behind each others’ bush in case one of them gets attacked; a risky tactic, but it’s better than both of them hurt and rendered vulnerable.

No matter how long the wait is, it won’t deter their posture. Jackal almost feels a sweat forming on his forehead and that’s when he sees it. A male deer, mature buck that shakes its magnificent antler. It’s well taller than him and the fur around its chest seem impenetrable given how robust it is. Every description from this animal fits into the category of a normal deer, except those eyes reflected white with yellow and green hue. Just like one of those BBC documentaries where they filmed a lion in the dark by using night vision camera. 

It turns from side to side, snorting hot stream of air on the ground that Jackal had been standing on. With a guttural growl, the buck lifts its two front feet to stand like a well-balanced bipedal. Body upright, back and neck straight while nose shooting up the sky; Jackal gazes into his scope for a shot on its head but he stops from pulling the trigger when one of the antlers fall. Another falls as well and the deer shrieks, a sudden reaction that strikes uneasiness in all living beings within vicinity. 

“Dios mío.” Jackal didn’t mean to mutter. Therefore when the deer snaps it’s head in 180 to stare at his direction, cold chill encapsulates him from head to toe. This is what people meant when colours drains from a person who loses courage in seconds.

The deer don’t approach. Instead, it sheds skin by splitting open from the top of its head, allowing the audience to hear the real live orchestra. It’s similar to a plastic wrap and paper being ripped off, but has to be accompanied by squelching of moist layer dripping plasma, puss and blood. 

“Duck down!” Buck screams. He lands a blow on the monster’s tender head and the shriek is unbearable by ten folds. Jackal seizes the chance to sprint towards Buck, hence they book it without a second glance. That’s the number one rule in a horror movie: don’t look back or you’ll trip.

As soon as their truck comes in view, Buck unlocks the door to leap in while Jackal hops on the back. He still has his gun ready in case that thing didn’t die like a mortal beings should when shot in the head. 

Jackal really hoped that he won’t see it again. And yet, “Me cago en la puta.” The sight of a burgundy mess galloping towards them has his palms sweaty. 

“Ryad, we can’t kill it! Come back in right now!” 

“Let me just shoot its legs.” Jackal aims steadily and doesn’t disappoint the trainings he received back in GEO. Two right in the knees and another one on its right eye. It wriggles in sharp whining and Jackal doesn’t hesitate to hop in next to Buck.

“Can’t believe they’re real,” Buck scowls as he floor the pedal, “But there are more fucked shits out there.” 

“Yeah. We may be the first ones to survive.” He finally wipes off the sweat and melts into the seat. Now that he’s safely in a car and won’t trip, Jackal checks where the monster is through the side mirror. It’s still in the same spot but standing upright again, and for some reason resembling another animal that has pointy ears, sleek legs and a thick tail. Almost like a canine. Surely it can’t be a jackal this time, because the way it took a form of buck was eerie enough already.

-

Sidenote: As I asked @r6shippingdelivery, “Me cago en la puta” conveys shocked expressions.