#shepdex

[bagheerita]

Lean more casually dude. It's not apparent yet that you are really into watching this tall, muscular man absolutely wreck the shit of anyone who gets in his way.

[massharp1971]

An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works

John/Ronon, 3K, tentacle monsters (but not the sexy kind), floating flying contraptions, teammates in peril

My giftfic for @acrowbyanyothername in the sga fanworks holiday exchange

---

“I can fly anything,” Sheppard said with that cocky smirk of his that Ronon found annoying and endearing all at once.

He eyed the contraption warily. They’d seen these inflatable vehicles occasionally floating on the distant horizon, and they knew the people of Nogard used these contraptions, but so far any attempts to discover the people’s secrets had been met with polite but impervious walls. Meanwhile, they couldn’t say for sure that the natives of this world had intended them to be separated from one another, but Teyla and Rodney had been carried away downstream on a riverboat bound for the coast, leaving John and Ronon ashore and unable to reach them. Officials had politely but implacably informed them there wouldn’t be another boat for three of the planet’s long days.

After hours of calm indifference to their need to be reunited with their team, after repeated attempts to divert them into looking at the Ancient outpost the Nogardians felt sure John would be able to use his gene to help them with, Sheppard had finally snapped.

“Ronon,” he'd said quietly, “how’d you feel about committing acts of larceny?”

Ronon had merely grinned in response, because action was needed; the larceny part was incidental.

Still, he didn’t share Sheppard’s confidence about this mode of transport. They had no idea how this thing worked, just that it was a curiously organic-looking inflated sphere, coloured a greenish purple, tree-height, webbed over with ropes, a human-sized tub suspended beneath. The thing was tethered in a clearing to the south of the main city, bobbing and swaying in a gentle breeze.

They crossed the open space as quickly as they could and climbed into the tub, hunkering down to hide from any pursuit.

“Sheppard, not so sure 'bout this…”

read the rest on ao3

[dedkake]

they don't talk about it | .5k, t, multi

in which john is working on asking for what he needs.

teyla: pinned | ronon: calculated | rodney: empty | john: closer

+ Teyla

The windows of the gym cast the room in a soft orange glow. Teyla watches the way the light dances over John’s skin, the way it catches in the sweat beading on his throat when he swallows, mesmerized by the way he shivers when she presses harder with her bantos.

“Teyla,” John says, pressing his head back against her thigh where she has him pinned. “Please.”

It takes a moment to register, her brain syrup-slow. She leans down and kisses him, his sigh just as soft as the light blanketing the room.

She’s never heard him ask for anything before.

+ Ronon

“It’s our day off,” Sheppard says from Ronon’s bed. “Relax.”

“I’m not good at that.” Maybe he used to be, but he isn’t that man anymore.

Sheppard sighs, leaning back against the pillows. “Well, consider it an order.”

There’s something calculated in that, in the way Sheppard’s sprawled out across his bed, one knee drawn up—the way he’s not quite looking at Ronon.

“Is that why you’re here?” Ronon asks, careful as he rests a hand on Sheppard’s knee, presses it down, open. “You need help relaxing?”

Sheppard smirks, something sharp and challenging. “See? I knew you’d get it.”

+ Rodney

“What time is it?” John asks when Rodney gets up.

“Late.” Rodney barely glances at his watch as he searches for his clothes in the dark. John asks him questions all the time—stupid, nagging, ridiculous questions that throw Rodney off just as often as they snap him out of a panic. He really can’t be blamed for not getting it at first.

“Late,” John repeats, somewhere between groggy and sarcastic. His hand curls into the empty space Rodney’s left on the bed, twisting into the sheets.

Sinking back into bed, Rodney says, “You could just ask me to stay.”

+ John

No one says anything. Not directly. They don’t have to.

Sometimes Teyla’s fingers brush over Ronon’s neck or tangle with Rodney’s. Sometimes John finds Rodney’s shirt in Ronon’s bed, or one of his pens in Teyla’s quarters. Sometimes Ronon says things like Teyla really wore me out this morning or murmurs in John’s ear, Bet you love it when McKay does that.

They don’t talk about it. Of course they don’t.

It’s under John’s skin—an itch he can’t scratch. He wants to hold Teyla close, and Ronon too. He wants to pull on Rodney’s lost shirt and wear it all day when he finds it. He wants to say, Yeah, she wore me out, too. And Rodney last night. Everything is there on the tip of his tongue, and every day John’s closer to saying it.

But they don’t talk about it, and that’s John’s fault the same as it’s his responsibility to fix it.

He won’t make it an order and he can’t badger Rodney into doing it for him. He doesn’t know how to ask or which words to use, because—

“I know we don’t talk about it,” John says, finally, because it’s time for a change.

[chaos-monkeyy]

Part 4 in the very cleverly- and subtly-named Sheppard discovers his piss kink series!

ShepDex watersports: Out here 💦

John was leaning on the wall-rail of the little outside balcony off his quarters, barefoot, watching the sun set over the ocean when Ronon finally got there. 

“I was starting to think you weren’t coming tonight after all,” John commented idly, glancing back over his shoulder just long enough to shoot Ronon a raised-eyebrows look. 

Ronon grunted a laugh as the solid warmth of his body brushed up against John from behind. “That impatient, huh?” he murmured into John’s neck. 

A curl of heat wound through John’s gut as Ronon’s hands found his hips, Ronon’s crotch pressing more firmly against his ass. “Well… maybe a little,” he allowed, a smirk tugging at one corner of his mouth. 

“Mm… Well, you don’t have worry,” Ronon said with a grin, and paused just long enough to suck a hard kiss into John’s neck just under the collar line of his t-shirt. “I’m definitely still planning on coming tonight.” 

John’s laugh turned into more of a breathy moan as Ronon slid one big hand up under his shirt, thumb brushing over his nipple and hips rolling forward to grind against John’s ass. In the same motion, Ronon’s other hand slid forward to get a firm grip on John’s belt and the waistband of his combat pants, just at the front of his hip. 

“So should I go take a piss first, or…” Ronon paused, inhaling into John’s neck and licking a hot wet trail up the line of his jaw. “You in the mood?” 

[dedkake]

that’s an order | m, 1.3k, shepdex

@trainofcommand challenged me to use as many prompts from this list as possible and write a fic.

“Hey, buddy,” he says, taking a cautious step forward, wary of the erratic swing of Ronon’s arm. “Why don’t you hand me the knife?”

Ronon doesn’t turn, keeps his knife between him and the vines as he growls back, “Not a good idea. Have you seen this thing?”

read it on ao3

[chaos-monkeyy]

annnd I wrapped up that John/Dave(/Ronon) fic that grew feelings on me and, like, pretty much consumed my entire being for the past two months.

Coming Home - Explicit, complete

CW for underage content in chapter 1-3, incest, and more, please read the tags xx

Six chapters, just shy of 15k words total... I still don't know where this came from but I've never been so interested in Dave Sheppard before 😂😏 Starts when they're teenagers and wraps up in canon-present-day. I'm also still not over the moodboard art Anagrrl made for me to go with it 😍 so I'm gonna put that here along with a little Chapter 5 (Reunion) excerpt just because I can.

…

After an incredibly awkward exchange with John and his… “friend,” the rest of the day passes in a blur. Somber faces Dave only half recognizes, a tangle of conflicting emotions he’d just rather not have to process at all, especially not today. 

John’s home. Now, John comes home, after disappearing for longer than he ever had before; after leaving Dave to deal with all of this alone and not even bothering to get in touch, let alone come back for a goddamn visit. 

Dave can’t work out whether he’s more relieved or pissed off about it. 

He also can’t work out how, exactly, he’s feeling about John bringing a stupidly attractive man home with him the fucking minute their father dies. Civilian contractor, my ass, Dave thinks to himself, with equal measures of bitterness, sardonic amusement, and— 

…Jealousy. 

Even after all this time, even through the dark, mirthless laugh he gets at the thought of John pulling this stunt to flip their father one last middle finger for good measure on his way out; despite all that, Dave can’t bring himself to deny the fact that deep down, he’s jealous that this guy has what Dave lost, twenty-plus years ago. 

The way the two stand while they talk quietly, so casually, comfortably near one another; the way this ‘Ronon’ hovers protectively and glowers at almost everyone else who comes too close or so much as looks at John sideways. The way John smiles up at Ronon, who is… not that far off from Dave himself in height and build, even if they have nothing else in common. 

The afternoon seems to last for a week all by itself; but once the day is finally, finally over, once everyone has gone home and left Dave in peace… He steels himself, and goes to find his brother. Surprisingly, John hadn’t found some vague excuse to leave early— Dave had been fully expecting he would— and he and Ronon accepted the offer to stay the night at the estate to give Dave and John the chance for a much-needed talk.

…

[chaos-monkeyy]

Ronon/Sheppard smut: Fascinating

Does it count as rapidly-written if it's been sitting in my mind fully formed and unwritten for over a year but I only just hammered the actual words out now?

Once Ronon noticed Sheppard’s thing about his own wrists, he couldn’t for the life of him un-notice it. 

The watch made sense, but it took a little longer before Ronon worked out what Sheppard’s deal was with the black sweatband was. He seemed to always need something on his wrists. On the rare occasions his wrists were bare, he’d fidget almost constantly; absentmindedly rub them, tug at the sleeves of his jacket, close one hand over the other wrist and squeeze lightly. If he forgot the sweatband or watch in his quarters, he’d make an excuse to go back for it if he could, no matter what it made him late for. 

It was fascinating. 

And it made Ronon wonder what else Sheppard enjoyed feeling tighten around his wrists. 

He started testing it out during their sparring training, and… Sure enough, every single time Ronon got a grip on one or both of Sheppard’s wrists, Sheppard got briefly distracted— and a little hard. Without even seeming to realize it was happening. 

It was way fucking hotter than it should have been, and Ronon finally couldn’t stop himself from taking it further, just to see how Sheppard would react. 

“You know, you’re never going to win when you want this to happen,” Ronon growled. He had his team leader face-down on the floor, sitting on Sheppard’s legs, one hand pinning Sheppard’s wrists to his lower back and the other planted firmly between his shoulder blades. 

Sheppard froze briefly; then tried to wrench free again. Ronon held him down easily, keeping him there just a moment longer. 

“I dunno what the hell you’re talking about,” Sheppard snapped, scrambling to his feet the instant Ronon let him go. “Why would I want to lose?” 

He was flushed, more than normal from the physical exertion alone. Ronon didn’t have to look away from his face to notice the slight tent Sheppard was pitching in his blue track pants. 

Falling back into his loose-limbed ready stance, Ronon grinned. “Not what I meant.” 

[dedkake]

5 fictober 5+1 october 2022 challenge drabble sets + 1 extra drabble

iv. october 19-24 | fictober | flufftober | just ask, t, .6k

“Hey,” Ronon says, rounding on John, suddenly close. “You know this is a date, right?”

“I kind of put that together, yeah,” John says. He can feel his ears going hot. “Next time, you can just ask me, you know?”

below or on ao3: five times ronon and john had a date and one time they needed one

-

“Who introduced you to hot chocolate?” John asks, sipping his cocoa, warm against the evening’s chill.

Ronon shrugs, his mug suspended over the balcony’s edge. “It’s good.”

“Chocolate usually is.”

“Hey,” Ronon says, rounding on John, suddenly close. “You know this is a date, right?”

“I kind of put that together, yeah,” John says. He can feel his ears going hot. “Next time, you can just ask me, you know?”

Ronon nudges him with an elbow. “Next time, you’re asking.”

John tips his mug. “As long as you bring the hot chocolate.”

Grinning, Ronon asks, “We have a deal, then?”

- -

“It’s dark,” Ronon says, somewhere to John’s left.

“Yeah,” John says, pulling his sleeping roll over his head. “That’s what happens at night.”

Of course, with Rodney and Teyla gone, Ronon’s taken it upon himself to fill the conversational gap. “I’m not tired.”

“What?” John asks, because he is tired, goddammit. It’s been a long day, and even with the sun down, the tropical heat is oppressive. “You need a bedtime story or something?”

Ronon rolls towards him. “There’s only us.”

John flips the blanket off and pushes himself up. He isn’t sure how he missed that part.

“Come here.”

- - -

Ronon grabs John before he can duck back to his room after their run, hauls him close and kisses his cheek.

Rubbing at his cheek, John asks, “What was that for?”

“Luck.” Ronon’s still grinning. “Heard you’re gonna be on the shooting range today and thought you could use some. Since Lorne’s a better shot than you.”

“I never said that,” John snaps, because he hadn’t. No amount of alcohol would’ve caused him to say that, no matter how strongly Ronon and Rodney insist he had. And Teyla.

“Sure,” Ronon says, kissing him again. “Can always use more luck, though.”

- - - -

John scrubs his head with a towel, wishing there was something he could do about the water in his boots. “Who said this was a good idea?”

“You did,” Ronon says, grabbing the towel away from him. He drops it to the floor of the tent.

“Hey,” John says, because their trip to the mainland might be ruined by the rain, but he’ll be damned if bugs get in his towel.

Pulling John close, Ronon asks, “Have you heard?”

John glares. “That you’re doing the laundry when we get home?”

“No,” Ronon says, kissing him. “That we need a vacation.”

- - - - -

“You’ve never been to a carnival before?” John asks, because the so-called market place on P3S-998 feels almost like a fair. There are even funnel cakes. Rodney’s already disappeared in search of them.

Ronon hunches over, awkward and out of place. “This is kid stuff,” he says, glaring.

John stops at a stall boasting little plush toys in reward for a ring toss.

“You just think that because no one’s ever won you a teddy bear before,” he says, fishing through the change Teyla had given them to barter with. “Don’t worry. That won’t last long—not on my watch!”

+

John doesn’t know how long Ronon’s been gone, just that he’s worse for wear when the guards drag him back to their cell.

“Hey there, buddy,” he says, checking Ronon over, trying to figure out exactly how they’d hurt him. “Missed you in here.”

Ronon winces when John touches him, grimaces and reaches out to wrap an arm around John. “Sheppard,” he breathes, lips pressing into John’s hair.

It’s a hug, maybe—something close to cuddling. “Is this safe?” John asks, already shifting, wrapping an arm around Ronon in return. “I mean—doesn’t it hurt?”

“It’s fine,” Ronon says, drifting.

also on ao3