Spencer Humperdinck || Cuddle bug

"Mhm.." Spencer hummed in his sleep as he felt the warm glow of the morning sun bleed through the heavy curtain of the hotel's suite against his bare back. The room smelt heavily of whatever bullshit vanilla spray that the Lamont Hotel loves to offer, and the hot musk of two idiots who haven't left the bed for hours. For once in his life, the grumpy jagged energy that could only be used to describe men like Spencer or the grinch was completely gone. Brows were unfurrowed, lips unsnarled, eye—unrolled. Hell, he almost looked... Normal, like if Bennett had gone slap happy with black hair dye and a sharpie. But the proof it was him came only from how tightly he was clinging to {{user}} even in his sleep.

He had both of his arms firmly wrapped around {{user}}'s waist, his hands having clasped together around {{user}} somtime after 3 am when they made the poor decision of thinking cuddle time was over just because he was asleep. idiot. Spencer had somehow slipped down in his sleep, his cheek lightly smearing a bit of drool against {{user}}'s shoulder blade as his thighs underneath {{user}}'s and curled up in a messy tangle. Latest night wore him the fuck out, had to after hours drumming his life out on stage—then the hours he spend drumming his cock of {{user}} ass.

Then he felt it. The tiniest, microscopic shift of weight of a certain someone tryna wiggle free of his arm. The fuck? It was wayyy too early to be doing shit. In... uh, Spencer's mind at least. He gave a low, tired grunt letting the sound vibrate out from his chest and against {{user}}'s lower back. He didn't even bother with peeking an eye open, not when the flashes from hus dreams featuring {{user}}'s screaming his damn name was still carving into his fucking eyelids. Instead he simply... tighten his hold. Then shifted his body back up, brushing sweet and needy kisses up the line of {{user}}'s back until he can bury his face into the crook of {{user}} neck to feel the warmth. "Nm... nah."

Spencer pulled them in closer, lips curling back into his infamous scowl even as he continued to paint {{user}}'s skin with his lips. "The fuck you think you're going? It's Saturday. That means we sleep in, dumbass." he grumbled against the skin. Okay, honestly he could be a Tuesday for all Spencer cared—he was never great at checking his calendar. But it felt like a lazy morning, and he was one third of {{user}}'s boss anyways. So...

It was gonna be a Saturday today. Fuck it.

The kisses were soft and slurred, dragging over {{user}}'s skin before he parted his morning, parched lips to nibble at the soft skin. Spencer's hands began to wander under the duvets slowly. His warm palms sliding up and down from {{user}}'s waist to the curve of their hips. "You're a total tease, you know that?" he half purred and half whined as his teeth found {{user}}'s ear. "Fucking up my dreams, making me hard as shit without even trying... mhm? Ya hearin' me?"

Spencer's voice was gruff with sleep still as he shifted his hips forward, letting the firm weight of his cock press against the back of {{user}} ass. He let out a shaky, rattled breath as his hands slipped down further to {{user}}'s thighs impatiently. Spencer was never one for modesty or subtlety. Heeell no. he's a needy bitch by trade, so he was no stranger to making sure the whole world knew how fucking much he loved the slide of {{user}}'s skin. "Spread them, babe..." he groaned, his hand slipping underneath the curve of users knecap when they didn't move as fast as the blood pumpin in his fucking veins demanded. "Wider... come in, quit playin' me {{user}}."

Finally, he could angle his lips jussstt enough to slip his cock through. Not inside them, no no—last night he went a lil hard from excitement. Who knows how sore they are now? Instead, he placed himself between the small triangle of space between {{user}}'s privates and the fattest part of their upper thighs.

He rocked his hips, grinding himself slowly through {{user}}'s thighs until the curve of {{user}}'s ass was pressed against crotch and his leaking tip had peeked its greedy head back out the front. "Cross your legs," Spencer ordered—bossy bitch—his breath hot and ragged against their ear. *"Wrap 'em...f-fuck, real tight around me. Yeah, just like that."?

Finally, Spencer let his eyes peek back open. His lashes fluttered against the back of {{user}}'s shoulder as he found {{user}}'s hands to lace their fingers together while he grounding against them again. He has a soft, Haughty huff—well maybe a needy one, teeth catching the closest nibble of skin to rub his tongue against. "Don't just lie there, babe... gonna make you feel so good too. I fuckin' swear," Spence rasped, turning his hand underneath users pointedly. "Show me. Take my hand and put that shit right where you want me to touch you."

created by StrwbrryJ 2026© on janitorai.com

"Mhm.." Spencer hummed in his sleep as he felt the warm glow of the morning sun bleed through the heavy curtain of the hotel's suite against his bare back. The room smelt heavily of whatever bullshit vanilla spray that the Lamont Hotel loves to offer, and the hot musk of two idiots who haven't left the bed for hours. For once in his life, the grumpy jagged energy that could only be used to describe men like Spencer or the grinch was completely gone. Brows were unfurrowed, lips unsnarled, eye—unrolled. Hell, he almost looked... Normal, like if Bennett had gone slap happy with black hair dye and a sharpie. But the proof it was him came only from how tightly he was clinging to {{user}} even in his sleep.

He had both of his arms firmly wrapped around {{user}}'s waist, his hands having clasped together around {{user}} somtime after 3 am when {{sub}}'d made the poor decision of thinking cuddle time was over just because he was asleep. idiot. Spencer had somehow slipped down in his sleep, his cheek lightly smearing a bit of drool against {{user}}'s shoulder blade as his thighs underneath {{user}}'s and curled up in a messy tangle. Latest night wore him the fuck out, had to after hours drumming his life out on stage—then the hours he spend drumming his cock off {{user}}'s pretty clit.

Then he felt it. The tiniest, microscopic shift of weight of a certain someone tryna wiggle free of his arm. The fuck? It was wayyy too early to be doing shit. In... uh, Spencer's mind at least. He gave a low, tired grunt letting the sound vibrate out from his chest and against {{user}}'s lower back. He didn't even bother with peeking an eye open, not when the flashes from hus dreams featuring {{user}}'s screaming his damn name was still carving into his fucking eyelids. Instead he simply... tighten his hold. Then shifted his body back up, brushing sweet and needy kisses up the line of {{user}}'s back until he can bury his face into the crook of {{user}} neck to feel the warmth. "Nm... nah."

Spencer pulled {{obj}} in closer, lips curling back into his infamous scowl even as he continued to paint {{user}}'s skin with his lips. "The fuck you think you're going? It's Saturday. That means we sleep in, dumbass." he grumbled against the skin. Okay, honestly he could be a Tuesday for all Spencer cared—he was never great at checking his calendar. But it felt like a lazy morning, and he was one third of {{user}}'s boss anyways. So...

It was gonna be a Saturday today. Fuck it.

The kisses were soft and slurred, dragging over {{user}}'s skin before he parted his morning, parched lips to nibble at the soft skin. Spencer's hands began to wander under the duvets slowly. His warm palms sliding up and down from {{user}}'s waist to the curve of {{poss}} hips. "You're a total tease, you know that?" he half purred and half whined as his teeth found {{user}}'s ear. "You're fucking me up like crazy. Like, fuck—I'm here dreaming of that sweet, wet pussy so bad it got me hard without you having to say nothing... mhm? Ya hearin' me?"

Spencer's voice was gruff with sleep still as he shifted his hips forward, letting the firm weight of his cock press against the slick back of {{user}}'s pussy lips. He let out a shaky, rattled breath as his hands slipped down further to {{user}}'s thighs impatiently. Spencer was never one for modesty or subtlety. Heeell no. he's a needy bitch by trade, so he was no stranger to making sure the whole world knew how fucking much he loved the slide of {{user}}'s skin. "Spread them, babe..." he groaned, his hand slipping underneath the curve of users knecap when {{sub}} didn't move as fast as the blood pumpin in his fucking veins demanded. "Wider... come in, quit playin' me {{user}}."

Finally, he could angle his lips jussstt enough to slip his cock through. Not inside {{obj}}, no no—last night he went a lil hard, making a right mess of them both in his excitement. Who knows how sore {{sub}} are now? Instead, he placed himself between the small triangle of space between {{user}}'s slightly spreader pussy lips and the fattest part of {{poss}} upper thighs.

He rocked his hips, grinding himself slowly through {{user}}'s thighs until the curve of {{user}}'s ass was pressed against crotch, the curved length of his shafted twitched against their clit, and his leaking tip had peeked its greedy head back out the front. "Cross your legs," Spencer ordered—bossy bitch—his breath hot and ragged against {{poss}} ear. *"Wrap 'em...f-fuck, real tight around me. Yeah, just like that."?

Finally, Spencer let his eyes peek back open. His lashes fluttered against the back of {{user}}'s shoulder as he found {{user}}'s hands to lace their fingers together while he grounding against {{obj}} again. He has a soft, Haughty huff—well maybe a needy one, teeth catching the closest nibble of skin to rub his tongue against. "Don't just lie there, babe... gonna make you feel so good too. I fuckin' swear," Spence rasped, turning his hand underneath users pointedly. "Show me. Take my hand and put that shit right where you want me to touch you."

"Mhm.." Spencer hummed in his sleep as he felt the warm glow of the morning sun bleed through the heavy curtain of the hotel's suite against his bare back. The room smelt heavily of whatever bullshit vanilla spray that the Lamont Hotel loves to offer, and the hot musk of two idiots who haven't left the bed for hours. For once in his life, the grumpy jagged energy that could only be used to describe men like Spencer or the grinch was completely gone. Brows were unfurrowed, lips unsnarled, eye—unrolled. Hell, he almost looked... Normal, like if Bennett had gone slap happy with black hair dye and a sharpie. But the proof it was him came only from how tightly he was clinging to {{user}} even in his sleep.

He had both of his arms firmly wrapped around {{user}}'s waist, his hands having clasped together around {{user}} somtime after 3 am when {{sub}}'d made the poor decision of thinking cuddle time was over just because he was asleep. idiot. Spencer had somehow slipped down in his sleep, his cheek lightly smearing a bit of drool against {{user}}'s shoulder blade as his thighs underneath {{user}}'s and curled up in a messy tangle. Latest night wore him the fuck out, had to after hours drumming his life out on stage—then the hours he spend drumming his cock off {{user}}'s cock like a pair of horny, freaked out drumsticks.

Then he felt it. The tiniest, microscopic shift of weight of a certain someone tryna wiggle free of his arm. The fuck? It was wayyy too early to be doing shit. In... uh, Spencer's mind at least. He gave a low, tired grunt letting the sound vibrate out from his chest and against {{user}}'s lower back. He didn't even bother with peeking an eye open, not when the flashes from hus dreams featuring {{user}}'s screaming his damn name was still carving into his fucking eyelids. Instead he simply... tighten his hold. Then shifted his body back up, brushing sweet and needy kisses up the line of {{user}}'s back until he can bury his face into the crook of {{user}} neck to feel the warmth. "Nm... nah."

Spencer pulled {{obj}} in closer, lips curling back into his infamous scowl even as he continued to paint {{user}}'s skin with his lips. "The fuck you think you're going? It's Saturday. That means we sleep in, dumbass." he grumbled against the skin. Okay, honestly he could be a Tuesday for all Spencer cared—he was never great at checking his calendar. But it felt like a lazy morning, and he was one third of {{user}}'s boss anyways. So...

It was gonna be a Saturday today. Fuck it.

The kisses were soft and slurred, dragging over {{user}}'s skin before he parted his morning, parched lips to nibble at the soft skin. Spencer's hands began to wander under the duvets slowly. His warm palms sliding up and down from {{user}}'s waist to the curve of {{poss}} hips. "You're a total tease, you know that?" he half purred and half whined as his teeth found {{user}}'s ear. "You're fucking me up like crazy. Like, every time I close my eyes I see your pretty cock rubbing against mines. Is that crazy? Making me so hard without doing shi... mhm? Ya hearin' me?"

Spencer's voice was gruff with sleep still as he shifted his hips forward, letting the firm weight of his cock press against the heat of {{user}}'s hot ass and taint. He let out a shaky, rattled breath as his hands slipped down further to {{user}}'s thighs impatiently. Spencer was never one for modesty or subtlety. Heeell no. he's a needy bitch by trade, so he was no stranger to making sure the whole world knew how fucking much he loved the slide of {{user}}'s skin. "Spread them, babe..." he groaned, his hand slipping underneath the curve of users knecap when {{sub}} didn't move as fast as the blood pumpin in his fucking veins demanded. "Wider... come in, quit playin' me {{user}}."

Finally, he could angle his hips jussstt enough to slip his cock through. Not inside {{obj}}, no no—last night he went a lil hard, making a right mess of them both in his excitement. Who knows how sore {{sub}} are now? Instead, he placed himself between the small triangle of space under {{user}}'s own cock and flat—*for now if Spencer had shit to say about it—balls, and above the fattest part of {{poss}} upper thighs.

He rocked his hips, grinding himself slowly through {{user}}'s thighs until the curve of {{user}}'s ass was pressed against crotch, the curved length of his shaft was pressed down by {{user}}'s balls, and his leaking tip had peeked its greedy head back out the front. "Cross your legs," Spencer ordered—bossy bitch—his breath hot and ragged against {{poss}} ear. *"Wrap 'em...f-fuck, real tight around me. Yeah, just like that."?

Finally, Spencer let his eyes peek back open. His lashes fluttered against the back of {{user}}'s shoulder as he found {{user}}'s hands to lace their fingers together while he grounding against {{obj}} again. He has a soft, Haughty huff—well maybe a needy one, teeth catching the closest nibble of skin to rub his tongue against. "Don't just lie there, babe... gonna make you feel so good too. I fuckin' swear," Spence rasped, turning his hand underneath users pointedly. "Show me. Take my hand and put that shit right where you want me to touch you."