Rhyiona is Love, Rhyiona is Life @conartistbabe - Tumblr Blog

Written for my dearest friend and ship sister, @rin-bellatrix for Christmas 2025.

Merry Christmas, Rin! Your oasis awaits. 😌

Requested Tagged Readers: @plague-cure, @writeastormsblog

If you would like to be added to my tagged readers, please contact me and I'll add you to the list. ❤

This Piece of You (A Saugust One-shot)

I’ll take this piece of you

And hold for all eternity

For just one second I felt whole

As you flew right through me

Sorrow — Flyleaf

Eyes on the couple in the corner, August watched her from behind the bar as he idly wiped the counter. The rag in his hand did little to clean the scarred wooden surface since the filthy scrap of cloth was dirtier than it by far, but his lazy swipes were more an attempt at busywork than actual washing.

Although they were too far away for him to hear what was being said, he could read her body language, and he recognized the tricks in her arsenal with an irked familiarity. She’d started off flirtatious to soften up the man across from her, coyly teasing with a subtle brush of a finger against his, a smile paired with the coquettish tip of her head, batting long pretty lashes over those fathomless green eyes. But as the negotiation furthered, the act shifted from demure to dogged, her expression hardening as she sat up straighter and kept her hands on her side of the square plank of a table. Clearly their conversation was getting serious.

“I’ll have ‘nother," Rocco said, drawing August’s attention momentarily to the sop perched with his elbows on the bar. “That is if you can spare a minute to reel your eyes back into your head, old boy.”

August grunted in reply, pulling a bottle from under the counter and tipping it into Rocco’s tumbler. Amber liquid splashed out, turning the dingy grey of the empty glass a foggy honey.

“Must be some sight to be pulling your focus like that,” Rocco grinned widely, pink gums shining wetly as his blackout goggles shifted with the movement of his round cheeks. “Who is she?”

“Nobody,” August muttered gruffly. Having given up a long time ago on making sense of how the old man could be so perceptive despite his blindness, he didn't bother asking the drunk how he knew it was a woman that had arrested August’s attention. “Just somebody I used to know.”

“Ah, a ghost from the past, eh?”

“Something like that.” Making an effort to concentrate, he shifted his piercing blue gaze to Rocco. “What’s it to you, old boy?”

“Oh, nothing, nothing. No reason at all.” Rocco picked up his glass and took a dainty sip of the watery contents. “Just find it interesting that she’s driving such a hard bargain when he’s got that gun trained on her so diligently. She’s either very brave or incredibly stupid. Either way, she sounds just like your type.”

Rocco let out a hoarse laugh, a rusty saw slicing through the relative hush of the bar. August’s attention snapped to the man seated opposite Sasha, eyes narrowing as he tried to spot the weapon Rocco had picked up on.

Sure enough, a gray metal barrel poked out of the meaty fist balled on his thigh, hidden in the shadows under the table.

August was rounding the bar before he even realized he’d moved. Behind him, he heard Rocco make a crack about knights in shining armor.

“If you think you’re gonna be able to get any stock off-world at that price, you’re better off selling whatever it is you’ve been smoking lately,” Sasha was saying to her companion. Leaning back in her chair with her arms crossed, the chill in her imperious gaze could have formed ice crystals on the abandoned bottles between them.

“Listen here, you little bi—”

August’s hand met the stranger’s shoulder with a loud thud, knocking the man’s balance off as well as his words.

“It’s time for you to leave.” August’s tone invited no argument.

He barely acknowledged the mute shock in Sasha’s gaze, his focus intent on the scum bag still seated in his bar.

“What the hell, pal? Can’t you see we’re in the middle of something here,” the man protested, turning his head to look up at August. His bulbous, veiny nose looked like it had been broken a time or two before and August was tempted to see how many slams against the table it would take to turn it into paste.

“I said it’s time to go,” August growled, tightening his grip on the man’s sloped shoulder. “Bar’s closing.”

“Funny, I don’t remember hearing the shout for last call.” The stranger stared at August challengingly, his thin lips pressed into a hard line. “And what kind of bar closes this early anyhow?”

August’s body tensed, muscles flexing as his mind blanked in preparation for a fight. He was about to make good on the idea of squashing this asshole’s fat, red nose like an overripe tomato when Rocco appeared on the other side of the man.

Plucking at the stranger’s sleeve, he said, “C’mon, old boy. Help a blind fool find the door and I’ll buy you a drink elsewheres. I know a place nearby that’s open late. The servers might be just as mean, but they aren’t nearly as ugly, or so I’m told.”

His grating scratch of a laugh cleaved through the growing tension, effectively diffusing it.

“Fine, whatever,” the stranger muttered as he twisted August’s heavy hand from his shoulder and stood. Small angry eyes flicked towards Sasha and he spit out, “And fuck you very much too.”

As soon as the door creaked shut behind the two men, the loud slam of Sasha’s twin fists on the table followed.

“What the hell, August?”

He didn’t reply, just turned on his heel and stomped away.

“You do realize you just cost me a huge pay day, right?” she yelled after him, quickly gaining her own feet. “Are you going to explain yourself?”

He just grunted, frustration hiking his shoulders to his ears as he kept his back to her. Adrenaline riding high in his body, his hands gripped the edge of the counter, knuckles turning white with the effort to hold his temper.

“You heard me,” he said. “I’m shutting down early.”

“Good luck with that, because I’m not leaving until you tell me what that was all about.”

He spared her a sidelong glance over his shoulder. As expected, everything about her screamed defiance, from the tip of her chin to the cock of her hip.

“Asshole had a gun,” he finally muttered. “Under the table.”

She let out an incredulous snort. “That’s it? August, this is Pandora. Everyone has a gun.”

“He had it aimed at you while you were sitting there egging him on,” he sneered. “What was I supposed to do, just let him shoot you for mouthin’ off?”

Venting a long-suffering sigh, he could almost hear the roll of her eyes to the ceiling.

“Did it ever occur to you that I might have a shield in my pocket meant for just such an occasion?” Although her forethought in the matter did come as a surprise to him, she continued, the question rhetorical, “Obviously, this isn’t my first rodeo. I’ve been meeting creeps like that for a while now. It’s the cost of doing business.”

“Yeah, well, maybe you need to get into a different business.”

A bark of a laugh burst from her, humorless and angry. “Wow, okay. You know, when I asked to arrange meet-ups here, I didn’t realize the crappy beer on tap came with free life advice and a belligerent bodyguard.”

“Why are you meeting people here?” he questioned, whirling around to face her.

To her credit, she didn’t back up when he stalked closer, eager to hear the explanation for the mystery that had been baffling him.

“What? What do you mean? This is a bar, right? Liquor usually makes people more willing to negotiate. That is when they aren’t getting chased out by the owner. Is that why this place is so empty? Because if that’s some new business strategy, you might want to rethink it.”

“You know exactly what I mean. Why this place specifically? I don’t hear from you for months, and then all of sudden, here you are,” he flicked his hand at her, the gesture meant to encompass not only her presence in his bar but also in his life, “out of the blue, looking to run smuggling deals at my table. You could go anywhere on this godforsaken planet— hell, even in this shithole of a town. So why here?”

Under his unwavering scrutiny, her angry glare faltered. She opened her mouth as if to say something, then closed it, sealing her reply behind the tight line of her frown.

“Well?” he demanded, gratified to have her on the verbal backfoot.

“I–” She stopped. Bringing a hand to her face, she pinched the bridge of her nose, then turned for the door. “It doesn’t matter now. I have to go.”

“Wait a damn minute,” he demanded, snagging her elbow and spinning her to face him. His hands formed a firm cinch around her biceps to keep her from fleeing. “You were all in a tizzy for an answer from me. Well, now it’s my turn. You’re not running away this time. Tell me why you’re here.”

She looked up at him for a moment and he was surprised to see the fiery indignation in her eyes fizzle into withdrawn resignation.

“All right, fine. I asked because…” Her head dipped down as she looked away, “because I needed a safe place to meet with clients and I…I knew you’d have my back if things ever got sticky.”

His brows knit together as what she said slowly sunk in.

“Hang on...” He shook his head in confusion. “You’re telling me that you’re pissed because I stepped in when that’s exactly why you came to me in the first place?”

Her cheeks were rosy pink as her head snapped up. “Well, you didn’t exactly have the best timing on when you interfered. I had that handled but you blew it. Now I have to go find him and try to undo the mess you made.”

She jerked in a bid for freedom but he held fast. Heat unfurled in his chest, a lingering ribbon of warmth that enveloped his heart and soothed the persistent ache that had taken up residence there so very long ago.

As with everything about her, nothing was as it seemed: a simple request was never just a favor, a smile could be a prelude to a blade at your throat, and an argument held the echo of affection. He’d been slow in realizing it — slow in a lot of things, if he was being honest with himself — but now that understanding had taken hold, he saw the signs.

“Sasha.”

Even spoken in his gruff voice, her name was a pretty winged thing as beautiful as she was. She stilled instantly at the sound.

Her eyes found his in the quiet that followed. Gone was the rage and fire; spirit and vigor replaced by a keen awareness. The tender teeth of her allure, that fanged bite of her magnetism that had sunk into him from the beginning, pulled him in once more, drawing him closer even while standing still.

“You trust me,” he breathed.

It was a simple statement, a rather inane one in light of the revelation, yet August had never been one for words. Actions were his language, fluent in brute force and fists. Following that same instinct for touch to voice the emotion that overwhelmed him, he lifted a hand to cup her cheek, skimming the smooth plane of her skin with his calloused thumb.

She blinked at the contact, clearly surprised by his delicate touch, but she didn’t twist away. Brows pulled together, a wry half grin tugged the corner of her mouth up, a sight that never failed to charm his churlish heart.

“That’s a stupid thing to say. Of course, I d—”

Afraid of what the rest of the sentence might entail, he didn’t let her finish, trapping the last of her reply with his lips against hers. He savored the tiny gasp of her shock that whispered against his mouth, drinking in the sweet feeling of her astonishment. His other hand rose of its own accord to frame her face, cradling her like the precious treasure she was.

He may have been a brute, but even he understood the poetry in pleasure and kissing her again was like coming home. Overcome, he wanted to bottle this feeling, to keep this bliss close for when she inevitably ran away once more, leaving him fractured and incomplete.

As if on cue, her fingers circled around his wrists, so reminiscent of the shackles of his ardor for her. He anticipated the imminent withdrawal, half expecting her to peel his hands away from her cheeks, to spit in his eye, and curse him as a fool.

Looking to spare himself the further heartache, he pulled away first. His hands dropped, clenching into fists at his sides as he stepped back.

In the air between them, her sharp exhale sounded like the beginning of a word.

He swallowed a swear, unable to look her in the eye for fear of what he might find there. The unfamiliar taste of an apology thickened on his tongue, but before he could utter the foreign word of regret, she spoke.

“Why’d you stop?”

He caught the briefest of glimpses at the impish smile that rested naturally on her mouth. Then her hands were fisted in the front of his shirt and she yanked him down to meet her waiting lips. The return of her kiss burned away his apprehension with its feverish heat.

Greedily, his arms slipped around her waist to pull her closer. Her lithe frame fit against him as snugly as a glove. She rose on her toes for better leverage, her kisses tenacious and bold.

Her entire body pressed into him, forcing him to take it. His hands roamed down her back, cupping under her rear to lift her up. She didn’t hesitate to wrap her legs around his hips, enclosing him as tightly as noose.

Rocking back to accommodate the forward shift of weight, his back hit the bar behind him and he pivoted around to place her seated on the counter. Her hands were in his hair, fisting the short locks to make him tip his head to deepen their kiss. The hot lathe of her tongue against his reawakened something inside him, a dormant but ceaseless hunger that infused him with a powerful desire to take, to feast, to ruin.

She seemed to sense the change within him. With the practiced shift of her chin, she broke contact to bare her throat, allowing him access to the smooth column of her neck. Haunted by the ghost of deja vu, he buried himself in the secret hollow under her ear, breathing in the heady scent of her. The subtle blend of her aroma flooded his brain, feeling equal parts familiar and necessary, like a lungful of oxygen after a long dive.

Restless in the increment submission, she was at his clothes, tugging and pushing fabric with a haste that spoke to her own overwhelming need, never spending enough effort to get very far before moving on. Her questing fingers eventually landed at his belt buckle and she immediately set to work unfastening it.

Even as he tracked harsh little nips and wet slips of his tongue against her pulse and along her collarbone, somewhere in the back of his mind, he knew this wasn’t a good idea. This was not the solution to his persistent yearning, nor a guarantee of security. Deep down, he wanted more than just this one time, this flash of fleeting satisfaction.

But the future held little interest for him in that moment, while he was so immersed in echoes of the past. The time would come when he would have to answer for these actions later. For now, he gave himself willingly, stepping off that ledge once more to plummet into the swirling chaos that came from loving her so completely.

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