Tear in the Sky

A/N : OH MY GOD I AM SO SORRY FOR THE DELAY.

 

I just really, really want to make sure I do this pairing justice, since there's like, no fandom for it, let alone fics.

 

It's been a while since I wrote a lemon. Even longer since I wrote a yuri lemon. Any slack you'd like to cut me would be appriciated.

 

Rates and reviews are loved.

 

Enjoy

 

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“Discharged?”

 

Brown eyes meet weary green eyes under a haze of tangled bangs. Tsunade's cold gaze pierces into her.

 

“Did I stutter, Sakura?” the sannin averts her eyes, much to Sakura relief, to a handful of dogeared papers, which she then unceremoniously throws over her shoulder. Adding to the forever growing “procrastination” pile in the corner. Sakura sometimes wonders how Shizune puts up with her. Because Sakura doesn't. At least until there's a fist hovering next to her face she doesn't.

 

“Aside from her usual problem, which we can't do anything about, there's nothing wrong with her.” Tsunade bites the side of her lip picking up yet another stack of papers, hardly legible under numerous coffee stains. “Just keep her stress level as low as you can. That means no training, no sparring, no missions, no “couple spats” she makes quotation signs with her fingers. “And no talking about a baby.”

 

“But-” Sakura pauses, swallowing her initial question as the sannin's eyes narrow.

 

“No missions? Or training?”

 

“For at least a week, just to avoid complications. ” She crushes the stained papers in hand into a crumbled wad to discard. Almost as a afterthought, she shoves the three remaining ceiling-high columns of paperwork off her desk.

 

Sakura raises an eyebrow “Done for the day, already?”

 

“No.”  Tsunade answers sincerely, popping the lid from one of the many flasks she kept on hand. “Just taking a break.” She waves her hand dismissively at her student. “I'm done with you for now. Shoo.”

 

Sakura rolls her eyes, but bows half-hardheartedly in her direction as she slides the door open.

 

“Sakura?”

 

She pauses, hand still on the door.

 

Yes, Tsunade-sesshou?”

 

Two, three, she counts five gulps of whatever x-brand liquor Tsunade kept handy. A distinct pop as her lips leave the tip of the flask.

 

“Did Jiraiya happen to tell you why he drank more in a night than I do in a month?”

 

Sakura's heart stops. Just for a second.

 

Her lip trembles.

 

“No, Tsunade-sama.”

 

Tsunade closes her eyes.

 

“Alright. I believe you.”

 

.........

 

“Sakura?”

 

Nearly halfway out the door, foot on the threshold, again, she stops.

 

Tsunade exhales heavily.

 

“Thank you from bringing Jiraiya back.”

 

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She moves away.

 

Hinata's brow furrows. Mostly in frustration, a little in displeasure.

 

“S-Sakura-chan?”

 

No answer. She was pretending to be asleep. Hinata knew better. Hinata also knows that while her girlfriend's head must be swimming, full to bursting with fears, confusion, what-ifs, and why-nots, it's not like her to keep things to herself. When Sakura's displeased about something, she's very vocal about it. That's one of the things that attracted her to the pink haired girl, how out-spoken she was.

 

It's also not like Sakura to resist when Hinata's trying to bring their embrace tighter when they're laying in bed together.

 

Something's wrong.

 

“Sakura-chan . . . “ it wasn't a question this time, the slightest hint of unease behind the Hyuuga's words as she leans in, lips close close to Sakura's ear.

 

“T-talk to me.”

 

Slowly Sakura rolls over, bleary eyed but wide awake. She opens her mouth, but says nothing, biting her lower lip in frustration.

 

“I can't.

 

“S-Sakura-”

 

“Hinata, sweetie,” she takes a smaller hand in hers, rubbing the palm with her thumb reassuringly. “I'm alright, I promise. I just can't talk. Not now.”

 

Wide white eyes soften, just slightly moist with frustration. She wasn't sure what had happened while she was hospitalized, but had a suspicion it had something to do with her conversation with Naruto's teacher. Her face scrunches in thought, just a bit. Sakura had thick skin, she doubted any perverted or lewd comments or advances the sannin had made would have her acting like this.

 

It must've had something to do with Naruto.

 

Hinata frowns, biting her bottom lip. That wasn't her heart fluttering, no not at all. She could be concerned for her girlfriend's teammate, right? There's nothing unusual about that. She was just worried that Sakura was worried.

 

/Those days are over. Those feelings are gone/

 

 

And she immediately knows that's bullshit.

 

 

It's not out of desperation, or a need to prove that fact to herself that she places her hand on Sakura's face, brushing bangs out of sleepy bright green eyes. She's not trying to reinforce the idea that She loves Sakura, and Sakura alone as she scraps pale lips over pink ones, drinking Sakura in. First softly, waiting.

 

If Sakura wouldn't talk, maybe she'd touch. At the very least she could quell her problems psychically, body to body.

 

Hinata pauses, unbreathing, nose to nose against the other kunoichi, foreheads touching. Sakura's eyes flutter back open.

 

She kisses back. With force. Hand on the back of her head, pushing Hinata down against her mouth, tongue seeking hers as hands weave between the thin bedclothes. Unclasping bras, tugging down waist bands. To Hinata's surprise (and delight) she finds no panties under the sheer red nightgown Sakura was wearing, and wastes no time running her fingers along the velvety sex.

 

She silences Sakura's surprised squeak with the flat of her other hand, mouth trailing down her neck, over her collarbones, between her cleavage. Hinata historically hadn't taken the dominant role in their lovemaking, naturally being as intimidating as a wet sponge she let Sakura take the lead in most parts of their relationship. But on rare occasions where she help the whip, she wasn't feral, animalistic in her dominance. It was with a steady hand and calm demeanor that she took charge, evident in how precisely she held Sakura down with her body weight, limbs pinned, legs under her own as she takes her, all of her.

 

Already between her breasts, she draws her tongue over a puffy pink nipple, swirling in slow, deliberate circles in time with her fingers sliding in and out of Sakura, increasingly heated gasps, pleadings muffled behind her other hand. Shaking, thrusting her hips against her palm, breath hot and ragged against her Hinata knows she's close, and at that moment she stops cold.

 

Still on edge, ignoring Sakura's cries of protest (“Motherfucker!”) she relinquishes both hands and uses her legs to pry open Sakura's own. With one hand Hinata peels down her own panties, sticky against her skin and pulls the kunoichi against her, leaning in to once again swallow her cries, crushing bruised lips against hers as she begins to slowly, deliberately grind her pussy against Sakura's.

 

She moves her hands from Sakura's hips to either side of her to gain traction, to steady herself as the motions persists, the silky warmth of Sakura's sex against hers. Sakura cries out as Hinata bucks her hips just slightly too hard against her. Heavy lidded eyes, pouty lips just slightly ajar in the perfect sex kitten face. Sakura is beautiful like this. Such a strong, powerful kunochi, shaking and writheing beneath her, pleading for her to go fast, harder, to fuck her stupid, and that's exactly what Hinata does.

 

Then she feels it. The tingling, the heat pooling beneath her stomach. Persisting, burning inside her and Hinata tries desperately to stave the feeling, to hold it off just long enough for Sakura to catch up, to meet her on the plateau. Just a little longer.

 

This time, the raw cry of pleasure comes from Hinata, unable to hold back she comes /hard/ digging her nails into the sheets, Sakura not far behind as she feels her sex spasm against hers, Sakura's cries intermingling with hers as them come together, against each other, inside and out.

 

For a moment, there's no movement. All is silent save for the pounding in her ears, the racing of her heart, and her girlfriends ragged desperate breathes. And as she lays beside her, messy pink hair plastered to her skin with sweat, panting, skin flushed as she rides out the aftershock Hinata can't help but smile.

 

She really is the most beautiful girl in the world.

 

And she was hers.

 

 

 

 

Hours pass. Hinata lies sleeping in sweat coated sheets, moonlight from the single window illuminating the room, casting shadows on the pale-eyed girls face.

 

Sakura smiles to herself, shrugging a jacket on as quietly as she can, almost as an afterthough, places a soft kiss on Hinata's head before she pries open said window, praying that it won't squeak in protest. Just enough, she slides her body under the sill, goosebumps as skin is exposed to the crisp night air.

 

For a moment, she turns her head back to the sleeping girl. She wants to go back in, the lay bedsides her, to fall asleep with Hinata curled up in her arms.

 

 

She can't.

 

Smile ebbing, she softly shuts the window, turning on heel. She could see Naruto's apartment from the rooftop.

 

It's now or never.