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Haruka had always been slightly rough around the edges, always slightly too enthusiastic with her movements, somewhat like a boundless puppy on steroids – but it had invariably been something Michiru appreciated about her, as though within her was the thirst for life that was so markedly absent in Michiru’s own body. Her laughter, which came in short bursts occasionally accompanied by an endearing snort, was a music initially too coarse for Michiru’s own finely-tuned ears, and yet now she welcomed it, every sound of happiness escaping Haruka’s mouth a note of her worth, of her success in keeping the one she loved safe and content. As Michiru pulled her wife back into her arms, she planted a kiss on her forehead, letting her fingers run through wisps of blonde.
“Mm…you know something, Ruka?” she said, cupping Haruka’s cheek and stroking her thumb along the jaw.
“What?” Her eyes blinked innocently, and Michiru suppressed a smirk. She was so gentle in nature, despite her rough semblance, her face open and trusting, her eyes containing equal curiosity and affection.
Michiru wished to drown in her, in everything Haruka could give to the world, in everything she was and tried not to be.
“I have…full control…over you…right now” she leaned over Haruka, kissing her nose, her cheek, her chin, her neck, dotting every other word with her lips. She heard Haruka inhale sharply and saw the flush of her cheeks in the corner of her eye.
Five years of marriage and still she blushed.
“I…I…”
“Mmhm? What is it, darling?”
“Uhh….uh…nothing.”
“I still haven’t punished you for what you did the other day…”
Haruka almost choked.
“What?”
“You thought I wouldn’t notice? You ate all the macaroons I was saving for Mother’s visit. I specifically told you not to,” Michiru sighed, trailing one hand down Haruka’s body, lingering on the sensitive skin just above her hips, humming gently as she traced her fingers in circles. She smiled as an incoherent moan escaped Haruka’s lips.
She really was far, far too sensitive for her own good.
“I’ve been thinking about your punishment all day. And I’ve finally decided,” Michiru purred as she straddled Haruka, pushing her shirt up and letting the tips of her fingers run down the bare skin.
“I’m sorry…” Haruka whispered.
“You will be,” Michiru smiled, “when I’m finished with you. I’m really really good…at tickling.”
Haruka yelped, her body convulsing upwards as fingers attacked her stomach, choking out barks of laughter between protests.
“M…Michiru…this…this ISN’T FAIR!!” she spat amid peals of laughter, her attempts to push her tormentor off failing in her weakened state.
“I never said I was a fair person,” Michiru replied simply, her hands finding Haruka’s armpits, coaxing high-pitched squeals, the sweetest of sounds, an uncontrollable joy. She tried and failed to pull Michiru’s arms away, gripping her wrist before losing control as Michiru’s other hand found the most vulnerable parts of her body, until Haruka was red in the face and Michiru herself couldn’t control her laughter.
“You see, my darling, I do happen to know your weakness,” Michiru mused, tracing one hand down Haruka’s leg.
“MICHIRU, I SWEAR IF YOU-“
But her protests were broken off as Michiru grabbed her foot. Instinctively, Haruka lurched upwards, hitting her square in the face.
She jumped back, her hand to her jaw and Haruka, mortified, began a steady stream of apologies.
“Oh my god. Oh my god, Michiru, I’m sorry. I’m so sorry, I shouldn’t have, that was so stupid and clumsy of me, are you okay? Are you hurt, show me where I hurt you-“
“Ruka! It’s fine! I’m fine, silly.”
“It’s not fine at all! I hurt you, we were playing around and I hurt you…I hurt you…” Haruka pushed herself off the sofa, placing herself on her knees before Michiru, pulling her hands back from her face.
“Show me what I did.”
“It’s fine! There’s nothing there, you barely even hurt me.”
“There’s a bruise! I marked you, I actually left a mark, oh my god-“
“If there’s a bruise, I can’t feel pain from it,” Michiru said firmly, steady hands on Haruka’s shoulders, “Ruka. I’m not hurt. I’m not in pain.”
“But I still hurt you. I lashed out at you, I should have better control of my own stupid fucking lanky body, god, I’m such a fucking oaf I don’t even deserve you, I’m so sorry, I’m so so sorry,” Haruka’s voice cracked as she kissed her wife’s hands gently.
“I should be insulted. I’m much tougher than you think, you know.”
“You’re much tougher than me,” Haruka allowed, biting her lip, “But I’m sorry. I really am.”
“And I’m telling you there’s nothing to apologise for, darling.”
“You need to let me make it up to you!” Haruka said, perching in Michiru’s lap.
“Oh?” Michiru asked faux-innocently, as she began to undo the buttons of Haruka’s shirt,“What exactly did you have in mind? Because I have a few ideas myself…”
“Hmmm…cuddles? To make it better!”
Michiru paused on the third button, her desire to roll her eyes shot down by the tearful smile Haruka gave her. She opened her arms, burying her face in soft blonde hair. Later, perhaps, she would get her way, but for now a certain someone needed comforting after their unfortunate incident, and Michiru was pretty sure that person wasn’t herself.
For no matter how rough she may appear, no matter the wounds her hands were capable of inflicting, Haruka would always have a gentle heart.