One late night, your husband Wriothesley came back from work to see you already passed out on your shared bed. He chuckled silently and tiredly at your adorable sleeping position, not bothering to get changed as he slipped under the covers from behind to spoon you. He grumbled, kissing the back of your neck, and wrapped his arm around you, his hand going up your shirt to cup your braless breast; his favorite comfort plushie.