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Yor is a minimal person, so she always keeps things as simple as she can. Or at least tries to. As an assassin, she does her best to live a genuine, simple civilian life.
However, in trying to seem or be normal in her minimalism, she always went slightly overboard. She likes to think she's genuine about it, but whether it be her cooking, or her fighting, or sports, or her response to the smallest danger, or just trying to be as helpful as she could, she always ends up going overboard.
But most of all, she likes to go overboard with her family because she likes to show them all her love.
She's loved Anya since the very beginning and loves being the girl's mother so much. From helping Anya get ready in the morning, to taking and picking up Anya from school, attempting to make a snack for her sometimes, playing with her, helping her dress, and reading her a story before bed time.
She thinks of the little girl as her own. She is her own.
As for Loid, Yor used to have a difficult time showing him her love and the things she appreciated about him, but that slowly went away when they started sharing kisses. They then went from kisses to intimacy in the bed, which became much easier after that first time alone together with each other.
The thing about that though, is now that they have sex regularly as of the last three months, Yor has finally extended her "overboard" nature to her very loving husband.
In the last three months since they started sleeping together, Yor had gone through four new red sweaters. She enjoyed that her husband was eager to please her and that he found her attractive enough to bed her, but she was displeased with his carelessness when it came to her favorite red sweater.
Her scar had faded the last few months, so she went back to wearing her backless red sweater. But after the demolishment of three sweaters, she packed the most recent away and only wore it when she knew she wasn't about to make love with her partner because Loid...
Her husband is a responsible, careful person, but any sense of responsibility he has seemed to be lost as soon as she put on the red sweater. She assumed it was the backless part, which he had so kindly mentioned that he loved before, that attracted him, but she refuses to believe he liked it so much that he was willing to ruin three sweaters in a row.
The first time, he had accidentally ripped the rest of her sweater further down where it opened up at the middle. The second time, in his impatience, he had taken it off too fast and profusely apologized to her, telling her that he would buy her a new one.
He did.
Yet a few days later when he bedded her, the poor red sweater did not survive that passionate night of sex.
After that, Yor was sure she couldn't make up any more excuses to have her fourth and good red sweater remade again to the manufacturer, even if it was technically not sold in stores anymore.
So she decided that she would go back to her sweaters where there was no back exposed. Loid had mentioned he liked the color, navy blue, on her, so he'd withstand and she'd make sure he'd stay twenty feet away from her. Maybe more than that...
So she isn't surprised when he once again asks her about the absence of her red sweater one day.
He's sitting on the couch reading a newspaper, having just arrived home from work, still in his white collar shirt and dress pants. His tie is loosened and his hair is messy, but not to the extent where his bangs fall in his face or cover part of his eyes.
"You stopped wearing your red sweater again," he says as she washes the dishes at the sink. Yor turns to him with a cordial smile.
She tells it to him straight, feeling no shame in telling her husband exactly why she stopped.
"Dear, I'm afraid my red sweaters are always at risk around you."
She knows her husband is perceptive and knows how to quickly glue pieces together, but instead, he knits his eyebrows together. "I don't understand." And Yor can hear the genuine confusion in his voice.
She elaborates. "When we... When we are in bed, you always end up ripping it off."
"Huh?"
She gives him a sweet, wifely smile. "Loid-dear, my sweater ends up in pieces when you get your hands on it. I like that sweater and I've had to replace it a few too many times. Even if you volunteer to buy it."
Her husband sits up straight and a blush spreads to his cheeks. He clears his throat. "I.... I hadn't realized... Sorry?"
She had never heard her husband sound more unsure apologizing.
"Loid."
Yor knows her husband's strength doesn't compare to hers in any way. There's been too many times when she's accidentally knocked him out cold, but his strength increases abnormally when he sees her in her red sweater.
"I really am sorry." He rubs the back of his neck, sounding genuine this time. "I hadn't realized it bothered you so much. I apologize for my... strength in bed."
Yor nods, accepting his apology. "That's fine, but my sweater is off limits on any days we go to bed together."
"That's any day, Yor."
"Not anymore."
Her husband gives her an outrageous look, and Yor almost giggles because her husband managed to keep a straight face in one too many situations, but this time, his eyes are almost falling out of their sockets.
"I mean, I know it's not that often with Anya in the house," he keeps going. It almost sounds like a whine. "But... Why?"
"Because I like my sweaters, Loid!" Yor huffs, a blush flushing across her face. "How can I be sure you won't rip this one?"
"That's not your favorite swea-"
"That's not the point-"
"But I find the actions you're resorting to unreasona-"
"Loid-"
"Yor-"
*SLAM*
"ANYA IS HOME!"
Loid and Yor are interrupted by their daughter slamming the door of their apartment, Franky following behind her with Bond and coming into the living room with their daughter, who has an unfinished ice cream cone in her hand.
Anya stops, gives her parents strange looks, and then immediately goes back to Bond. That only means she sensed something.
Intuitive as always, Loid thinks.
He sighs and looks at his wife. "We'll discuss this tomorrow," he whispers. Yor nods in agreement but leaves with a cute huff before she smiles brightly at Anya.
"Peanut," she greets warmly.
"Mama!"
Franky demands compensation, saying he's not a professional babysitter. Although, he was the one who promised to take Anya out for ice cream after dinner.
Loid sighs.
Yor decides to ignore her husband.
.....
Yor rolls over and falls to the floor when Loid tries to touch her in bed that night.
.....
Three days later, Yor is still wearing the navy blue sweater when she arrives home. She notices the way Loid stares after her. She can't tell what the expression is exactly, but when she's turned around, he's staring at her back.
It seems Anya noticed because earlier that morning, she asked, "Mama and Papa fighting?"
Yor gives her a simple, "Of course not, dear," for an answer.
Anya gives her a looks that says she doesn't believe her but nods and gets ready to leave for school with Loid holding her hand.
Later, she feels Loid's sulking, but his face is formed into that neutral, serious expression, and only someone like her, who knows her husband, would guess and figure out that he was moping. She thinks her husband is being a little dramatic, seeing as she never said that they couldn't have sex, but that she would be limiting their time together until he learned to not rip her red sweater during intercourse.
She doesn't budge, though.
She wouldn't dare.
She feels his stare on her where she's watching another one of her soap operas while he's sitting in the recliner next to her, a book in his hand that she knows he's not paying attention to.
Anya is asleep in her room, and these are the nights they usually sit down together for quiet time, but Loid is sitting away from her and she hasn't felt his stare leave her once.
During commercials, she glances back at him and "Eeks!" quietly when she sees him looking at her.
She hears him make a sound between an exasperated sigh and a groan before he comes over and sits next to her, dipping the couch.
She doesn't turn around and keeps her eyes on the TV. She's not going to look at him. Not when he tries to give her those actual sulking eyes that he would only be willing to give her.
"Yor."
"No!"
"I didn't say anything-"
"I know what you're thinking!" she squeaks. Yor protectively wraps her arms around herself in her slightly oversized white sweater. It hangs off her shoulders just like the red one but gives her full coverage over the rest of her body, stopping above her knees.
She hears Loid let out another sigh behind her. "You act like I'm going to attack you."
"You are-"
Yor doesn't finish what she's saying before Loid wraps warm arms around her waist and buries his face into her shoulder. His breath feels hot against her shoulder.
Red spreads over her face. "L-Loid! I know what you're trying to do and it's n-not working!" Yor stammers.
She hears him chuckle. "I have no ulterior motives."
"I know you're lying."
He brushes his lips against her bare shoulder. "A little," he finally admits and then presses a fluttering kiss onto her shoulder. "Am I not allowed to touch my wife?"
Yor wants to snatch herself away from her husband, but his arms are so warm around her waist and she likes the feel of his lips on her, so maybe... Just maybe...
No!
She isn't supposed to-
She makes a sound when Loid darts his tongue out on the area he kissed on her shoulders. His right hand around her waist slips under the hem of her sweater where he rubs it down her thigh slowly. She likes when he does that.
Yor doesn't trust herself.
Not right now.
But when he moves her hair to the side and kisses her neck, she shudders, letting a quiet moan escape her lips.
Yor grips his hand still around her waist as she breathes, "Y-You said you had no ulterior m-motives."
He bites a piece of her flesh. "I never said I don't currently."
She lets out a sounds and grips his hands tighter. "L-Loid. I refuse to let you seduce me- Eek!"
His hand hikes further up her thigh until they're near her center, and she really can't give in. She looks at him, his handsome face, over her shoulder to capture her lips in a kiss. She brings a hand up, accepting the invitation to his open-mouthed kiss.
Just as she thinks that maybe she was being too harsh on him, everything crumbles the minute he tries to remove her clothes.
*RIIIIIIIIP*
Yor jumps up.
"LOID!"
"Yor! Wait! I'm sorry!
Anya's door is heard opening immediately and her footsteps are heard running into the living room.
"Mama! Papa! Don't die!" she shouts frantically.
"Anya!" Yor immediately jumps onto Loid, her legs wrapped around his waist and her arms tight around his neck to cover the rip in her sweater from their daughter.
She knows she's hurting him with her grip, but she doesn't care.
Anya tilts her head. "Mama and Papa hugging?"
"Yes, dear!" Yor chirps. "I was just telling your father how much I loved hugs and wanted one before bed."
Please believe me, please believe me, please believe me.
"Y-Yes. What your mother said, Anya," Loid strains out, giving her a crooked smile.
Her daughter still looks doubtful, but she goes back to her room willingly, muttering something about, "Mama and Papa are liars."
Once Anya disappears, Yor hears her husband choke out, "Y-Yor... Can you l-let go?"
Yor very much considers against it, but she jumps off her husband, looking down at her sweater ripped from the side of her bra to the very end of the hem with tears in her eyes.
Loid places his hands on her shoulders. "Yor, I really am sorry! That was truly an accident this time. I didn't mean to-" He pauses as he looks as his wife's tear filled eyes.
"Ah, shit," he grumbles.
What the fuck do I do?
"Looooooid!" Yor cries and then runs to her room.
Loid runs after her, but Yor slams the door and locks it, causing a vase nearby to fall over.
He hits his head against the wall, cursing, just as Anya comes out of her own room again, cracking the door open. She looks at him.
He looks at her.
"Papa made Mama mad."
He groans.
"Go to bed, Anya."
.....
Loid gives Yor a replacement sweater and a bouquet of flowers as an apology, but she haphazardly sends one of the thorned roses soaring past his head while placing it in the vase, claiming it slipped from her hand.
He barely dodges it within an inch of his life.
.....
A week and a half into their troubles involving her sweater, Yor has made good on her threat and hasn't let Loid touch her in a little over a week.
It wasn't that often, but it's killing him since they had become used to being intimate over the last three months. Every time he tries to touch her now, she moves away or she suddenly says she's busy. Other times, she puts a pillow between them in bed or is conveniently taking care of Anya.
Loid sits at Franky's stand, an extremely rare cigarette hanging from his mouth, but not lit because he would not dare smoke with a child at home.
"My wife doesn't want me," Loid says plainly, but the miserableness in his voice sounds foreign.
Franky chokes on his actual lit cigarette.
"You can't say shit like that and expect it to sound normal."
Loid glares at him. "This is normal."
"Not for a cold bastard like you."
"I am not-" Loid furiously shakes his head. "That is not the point, Franky."
Franky takes a chill puff of his smoke this time. "Maybe she's just not turned on by you."
"Coming to you was a mistake."
Franky cackles at his friend's pain. "Fine. You're a smart ass spy. What's the reason you think?"
"I keep..." Loid swallows. "She's getting upset that... I..."
Franky smirks because if Twilight of all people can't get his words out, then something is definitely wrong.
"I rip her sweaters every time we have sex."
"Too much fucking information, dude."
Loid sputters, ripping the cigarette from his mouth. "You asked!"
"So... She won't let you... you know. Because you keep ripping off her sweaters?" Franky motions with his hands. "You poisoned or something?"
"No, I..." Loid runs a hand through his hair and pulls at it until his bangs fall in his face. "I just really like her sweaters on her. The red one with no back in particular."
Franky looks deeply unimpressed. "So you have a sweater kink?"
Loid feels red rise to his cheeks. "No!" He doesn't. He doesn't. "I just like her back in her red sweater. The white one I genuinely, accidentally ripped and she ran to her room crying."
Franky's unimpressed face formed into a look of utterly deep disappointment. "You made your wife cry? You're an awful man, Twilight."
"I know."
Loid doesn’t need Franky to tell him that because he couldn't sleep the entire night knowing that Yor was upset because of something he did. He was nervous that not only would she leave the operation, but him. Anya. Because he made her cry for ruining her sweater.
"There's only one thing I have to say to you, man," Franky sighs.
Loid leans forward, an eyebrow raised.
"You're down bad for her."
"Wha- What the hell does that mean?" Loid asks. He isn't that young, but he isn't that old either and Franky using his weird lingo-slang on him is confusing.
"You've got the hots for her."
"Franky."
"You wanna run away with her into the sunset on a white horse."
"Franky."
"You're in love with her."
Loid's brain short circuits for a moment. He looks at Franky with wide eyes. "Huh?"
"Love."
"This is about sweaters."
"Listen, man. I now know you and that little wife of yours - you know - with each other. You hold hands and kiss, don't you?"
They had been for awhile now. They only started sleeping with each other three months ago, but exchanging kisses and such was nothing new to them. It was an act to keep up pretenses.
It definitely doesn't make his heart skip a beat or want to go out and buy his "wife" an actual ring. Not a grenade pin.
"You're attracted to her, right? And I know in more ways than one. The red sweater is just the cherry on top," Franky says with a shrug. "You're attracted to everything on her and about her, including her back."
"It is not her back-"
"It turns you on."
"It does not-"
"Go fix things with your fucking wife, man."
Loid goes to do exactly that.
.....
He decides to get on his knees and beg.
.....
Two weeks in, Yor realizes that her husband has left her alone the last few days. She begins to wear the red sweater again when she realizes he's been distant and keeping his hands away from her.
She tells him good morning the Saturday she doesn't have to go to work and he greets her with a smile. It's no longer longing or irritated or upset. He's genuinely smiling.
She thinks he's given up completely this time, finally accepting the punishment of not touching her, but what she didn't except for him to do later that night after he tucks Anya down for her nap before dinner is drop to his knees and grab her tightly around the waist.
She had blushed and told him to stand up. She had never seen her husband look so undignified before. He asked what he could do. Yor insisted that he stand up first and have some dignity about himself.
He asks Yor what he can do.
Yor sighs and tells him to just stop ripping her sweaters. That's all she wants. She gives him a break, though, and promises they can cuddle, which she enjoys, partly because it includes no removal of clothes.
She sits on his bed, tucked into his chest, and hears the thumping of his heart as he explains something to her about the book he's been reading, but she's thinking about how to truly fix their problem as she nods along to show that she's also listening to him.
An idea comes to her head and she gets up suddenly and sits on her knees, confusing Loid. Her eyes fix toward him, determined.
Loid sits up with her. "Are you okay, Yor?"
She nods seriously and says, "I know how to fix our situation."
Loid looks interested, and she can see the tiny bit of desparateness in his eyes.
Yor sucks in a deep breath and then-
"Let me rip one of your blouses or suit vests."
Silence.
Then-
"What the hell, Yor?"
"Well!" she starts, hoping he listens, but she knows he will. It's Loid. "M-Maybe you'll stop doing it if you k-know how it feels... to have your favorite clothes ripped."
Loid is still silent.
"And I know how much you love all your suits!"
"Yor, that's insane."
"See how crazy it sounds when you rip my sweaters!"
"Yor."
"Just let me rip one."
Loid moves to get up off the bed, but Yor gets up to stop him and he falls back as she wraps her arms around his waist.
"Y-Yor!" he chokes out.
"Just one! Please!"
Loid silently curses to himself as he finally gives in.
So... Maybe he is in love with her because-
"Fuck... Fine."
Yor lets him go and smiles sweetly.
.....
Anya is tasked to sit in her father's lap to keep him from moving.
.....
"This is your least favorite, right?"
"No. I like that one."
"You like them all, Loid."
"Anya thinks you should rip them all!"
Anya doesn't know what's going on, but her parents have been acting really strange the last few days. However, Anya was assigned by her Mama to keep her father down because they were going to be giving away some of his old clothes.
Her father's mind is complete jumble (rare) and her mother is smiling in her head (not rare).
Maybe they're playing?
Her father groans. "We are not going to be ripping all my clothes."
"Oh!" Yor takes a perfectly ironed white shirt from his closet. "This one looks nice. Don't you think so, Anya?"
The little girl raises her arms. "Yes!"
Her mother closes his closet. "Then the ripping shall commence," Yor cheers, too much glee present in her voice.
She hears her father's mind screaming, Fuck. Shit. Damn.
She doesn't know what any of that meant.
"Rip, rip, rip!" Anya cheers.
Her mama takes the shirt from the hanger, places it down on the floor, grabs the shirt, and then rips it slowly right down the middle, a satisfied smile on her face.
Anya hears her father mutter weakly, "Y-Yor..."
"Don't you hear that, honey? The terrifying and heartbreaking sound of someone destroying your lovely clothes?" Her Mama giggles.
Anya gives her mother a strange look but continues to cheer her on. She would always support Mama.
"Yor, this is too much..." Her papa almost whines.
Anya slaps her cheeks.
Her papa never whines. He always scolds her for doing it when she refuses to finish her homework.
Her mama is halfway through the shirt.
"And that, my dear husband," her mama tells her papa, and Anya realizes she sounds scary, "is what it feels like to have your sweaters ripped against your will."
She rips the rest of the sweater in one movement.
Anya claps loudly.
She can hear her papa's mouth fall in shock.
Her mama throws the shirt in tatters on the floor. "I hope all lessons here are learned." She bows.
Anya jumps out of her Papa's lap and runs to the closet. She flings it open. "I wanna rip a shirt up too!"
"No!" Her papa finally moves and swoops her up with his arms. "No ripping shirts!"
Her mama giggles in agreement. "No ripping shirts, Peanut."
Anya pouts with a huff and crosses her arms in her father's arms.
She doesn't understand either of her parents.
"But why...?"
Yor pats her head. "Because you're Papa understands a woman's pain now." She shrugs and walks out of his room, a skip in her step.
Anya stares after her mama, along with her papa, highly confused.
.....
Anya notices both her parents in better moods a few days later.
.....
"See," Yor says as she pushes a box towards her husband on the bed. "Good as new."
"A new shirt?"
"The same brand, color, and size. I took note of that before destroying the old one," Yor smiles at her husband.
"You didn't have to-"
"Nonsense. You always replaced my sweaters, even if the action displeased me," Yor tells him. "I should do the same."
"And on the bright side! You didn't rip my sweater last night." She chuckles, and Loid blushes as he looks away.
"I... Just..." His face turns redder.
Yor climbs closer to him on the bed and touches his hair with her fingertips. "I'm glad you get excited when we have intercourse, though. It means I'm desirable."
Loid gives her a slow smile. He grabs her hand and kisses the inside of it. "You've always been."
She blushes, surprised she isn't used to the action by now. "L-Loid..."
"And I..." He trails off, his mouth still at her hand. "Yor, I am... In... I am-"
"What?" Yor pushes him on, curious as to what he has to say, reluctant as he sounds.
Instead, he suddenly pulls her closer to him and closes the gap between them. Yor doesn't pull away (although she wonders what his original words were going to be) and climbs into his lap, straddling him, when she kisses him back.
"I really am sorry," he mutters against her lips.
Yor laughs into the kiss. "It's why I'm wearing your t-shirt right now, but I appreciate that. I forgive you."
And she reaches to remove Loid's shirt, letting the fabric cleanly and neatly leave his body before throwing it to the floor.
"That's how you do it," she murmurs in his ear, and Loid can only laugh as he brings her closer to kiss her again.