i’m watching my show mom! @heartshapedlesboy - Tumblr Blog

Pick Up the Receiver I'll Make You a Believer

Pairing: Johnathan Byers x afab/trans masc x reader

Rating: M(18+ minors DNI)

Tags: (Tiny bit of) Perv!Johnathan, phone sex, mutual masturbation, dom! Reader, sub!Johnathan, degradation(if I missed anything major let me know❤️)

A/n: This is no April fools joke, I am actually posting a fic!!! It's been quite a while and I'm glad to be back with a new fic! This is genuinely the most self indulgent fic I've ever written in my ten years writing fan fics and I love it a lot, so please if you enjoy it give it some love it would make me oh so happy! Without further ado, please enjoy!

The ring of the phone beside your bed startles you, making you jolt upright. Looking over at the clock you see that it's almost one in the morning and you think to yourself who the hell is calling me this late? Setting your book down with a soft huff you pick up the receiver and put it to your ear.

"Hello?" You say in a hushed tone. It's silly considering you're alone in your own home but it feels wrong to talk too loudly at such a late hour.

"Hey." The voice on the other end meekly utters back. Your eyes light up when you realize who it is on the line.

"Oh hi, baby." You hum, a soft yawn passing your lips.

"I hope I didn't wake you." He mutters, embarrassment coloring his voice.

"No, I was just doing some reading before bed, I got so caught up in the story I didn't wanna put it down. You know how that goes." You sigh, laughing at yourself.

"Shit, I'm sorry, if you wanna get back to it I ca-”

"No babe, I'm glad to hear from you. How come you're up so late, though?" You question, one eyebrow raised even though you know he can't see you. It's quiet for a minute and you just hear his breaths, and the rustling of pyjamas and sheets.

"I uh, I just couldn't sleep." He whispers, voice cracking midway. Your bottom lip juts out into a pout feeling bad for him.

"I'm sorry, honey, is there anything I can do to help?"

“Just-just wanted to hear your voice." He says, his voice raspy with sleep. "It always helps... soothe me."

"You're too sweet." His words have a warm feeling spreading in your chest.

"Yeah, yeah, I um..." His breath hitches. There's a five second pause before he starts speaking again. "I just really missed you today."

"Mm, I missed you too, work was so crazy. I wished I could have seen you, I am in desperate need of some Johnny cuddles."

"I wish you were here right now." He whines and you coo in response.

"Maybe I can come spend the night tomorrow?"

"Yeah..." He responds eagerly. He sounds breathless and ragged all of a sudden which makes you start to worry that something might be wrong. You're about to ask him if he's alright when you hear the faintest moan that it clicks what he's doing on the other end of the line. A playful smirk turns up the corners of your lips and you get an idea.

"Sweetheart, what are you doing right now?" You question, leaning forward in bed your hand now resting on your thigh. Johnathan whines, and you can just picture his cheeks flushing pink if they weren't already before.

You can't see him but his bottom lip has made its way between his teeth. His hand stutters in its path up and down his length, the soft rustle of his boxers becoming more audible to you with every stroke.

"Mmm, n-nothing." He whispers shyly, clearly embarrassed that he got caught.

"You've never been a very good liar, honey." You tease, grinning to yourself. This elicits a string of pitiful moans from him, making your stomach clench deliciously.

Knowing he had been touching himself on the other end of the line this whole time without you knowing sends a thrill up your spine. There's something so hot about the taboo nature of the act.

"I'll ask again, what are you doing?"

"Mmh, been r-rubbing my cock over my boxers. I-I'm sorry, I-I shouldn't have..." He groans through gritted teeth.

"You're a little pervert, huh? Touching yourself to the sound of my voice. What's got you so worked up, doll?"

"Told you I was missing you." He pants, and you envision him, jutting his hips up into his hand, his tongue hanging out of his mouth the more brainless he gets.

"If you'd told me this was what you needed I would have easily given it to you honey." You coo, your hand traveling between your thighs now. It makes a slow descent teasing yourself before you reach the apex of your thighs. "Oh, fuck."

"I'm sorry, sir." You can hear the pout in his voice. That title is like the last nail in the proverbial coffin. Your eyes roll back, a deep groan exiting your throat.

"You should be sorry, it's a very naughty thing you did, sweetheart." It's your turn to pant down the phone line, though you try to keep your voice stern.

"Are you going to punish me, sir?" His tone indicates that he's nervous for your answer but if you know any better, and you do, he's only eager to know what it's going to be.

"I'm gonna have to, I mean you've really given me no choice, doll." You tut, meanwhile you push your hand past the fabric of your underwear and start touching yourself.

"I understand, I'm so-sorry, I promise it won't happen again." You're hoping that it very much will.

"I need you to take your hands away from your dick right now. Put them at your sides."

Your request is immediately met with protest.

"No, no, no please, feels so good." He keens, the sound of his sheets shifting indicating that he's likely squirming around, just how you want him.

"Ah, ah none of that. Do as you're told."

"Yes, sir." He relents resting his hands on the bed beside his hips. It was becoming painful how hard he was especially with it rubbing up against the fabric of his boxer briefs. "What now?"

"You're going to grind those hips up in the air for me." You giggle, picturing the pathetic act in your head. How desperate he'd have to be to hump the air in search of any sort of friction. "I know you want to touch so badly, but you can't, not until I tell you to."

"Fuck, no. Please let me touch." He begs. You can just imagine the pleading look in his eyes. It's so familiar to you now.

"Filthy perverts don't get to make demands." You laugh condescendingly, your other hand sliding up to grab one of your tits, pinching a nipple between two fingers.

A wanton moan slips from your parted lips, and it sends Johnathan into a frenzy of tears and begging for anything more. His hips are stuttering upwards, the only friction being from his boxers and it's nowhere near what he needs.

"Need more, sir! Please, please." He grunts through gritted teeth. His hands are fisted into his sheets so tightly his knuckles have turned pale.

"It's too bad, you're just not going to be so lucky to get what you want right away, honey." You laugh through the moans wanting to spill from your lips. "Want you to part your lips fo' me, okay, sweetheart?"

You wait a beat until you hear the wet pop of his lips as they part. You can visualize his pink tongue poking out just a bit, and it makes your toes curl.

"Such an obedient boy." The words slip off your tongue like velvet and Johnathan preens from the praise, his hips jerking faster now.

"Put two fingers in your mouth, I want you to suck on them just like you did with me two nights ago." It's an order, there's no room for protest and he follows through with an eager noise. He wants to be your good boy so bad.

The hand between your thighs speeds up and you let more moans spill from your lips. The noises that begin filling the speaker are obscene as he fucks his mouth with his fingers. The slick sounds of spit coating his digits makes your own brain start to go fuzzy.

"Sound so fuckin' hot, Johnny. Wish I could be there, want t'fuck that pretty throat so bad."

That makes him gag on the fingers, and leaves him sputtering to catch his breath. You smirk to yourself knowing the effect your words have on him.

"You want that? You want me to fuck your throat, pretty boy?"

"Yeth thir!" He says around his slick digits.

"S'there anything else you want me to fuck?" Not thinking he starts nodding his head frantically. You cock an eyebrow awaiting his response. When it never comes you tut in disappointment.

"You need to use your words, sweetheart."

"Shit, I'm sowwy, pleath, I want you here, pleath, wan’ you to fuck me properly!"

"Spit in your hand." A whimper comes through and then you hear the noise of him spitting into his palm. Your thighs clench, wishing you didn't have to rely on mental images only, but you conjure one none the less.

Johnathan laid in bed with his boxers down around his thighs, cock resting on his stomach as he spits into his hand at your request. It turns you on knowing that he'd do anything you asked him to if it meant pleasing you.

"Take them off." You command. That's all it takes. You hear the softest sigh as he frees his cock from its confines not wasting anytime doing as you requested. A Cheshire smile twists your lips knowing you have him wrapped around your finger.

There's a pause, all you can hear is his heavy breathing. You realize he's awaiting his next instruction.

"I hope you're still sucking those fingers." You tut sternly. He whines down the receiver, the slick sound of his digits pressing back between his lips indicates that he most certainly hadn't been.

"Can I pleath touch now?" He begs, sounding so pathetic, just the way you like him to be.

"Oh, baby, you have been very good, listening to instructions so carefully...” You pause like you're thinking just to prolong the torture just a bit longer. "Stroke it for me, prove to me you can be a good boy."

"Fuuuuck. Ah, thank you. Thank you." Your ear is flooded with the lewd sounds of his spit covered hand rapidly pumping up and down his length. You grin at his eagerness, rolling your eyes affectionately.

"Woah there. Easy tiger, slow down." You whisper. "Go nice and slow. I want you to picture me sitting behind you. One of my hands rubbing over your chest, your sides; your happy trail. My other hand on your cock stroking you so slowly. Can you picture that, pretty boy?"

He moans at the condescending tone of your voice and the picture you're painting in his mind. At this point you've abandoned your own pleasure, focused solely on taking him apart with nothing but your voice.

"Yeth, yeth, I'll thlow down. Wan’ tah do it juth like you." His words come out garbled and drool starts to pool at the corners of his lips. He lets out squeaky breaths as he fists his cock, using all his mental strength not to speed up.

"So good for me. Such a perfect little doll. Can you feel my lips grazing your neck? My hot breath on your skin..." The visual makes him whine hoarsely down the line.

"Mhmm. Fuck, feels so good." You can hear the pout in his voice and you can't help but smirk to yourself. "Can I go a little faster, now? Please, sir?"

"Hmmm, not yet…" He whines. "Soon, honey. Be patient. For now I want you to take your fingers out of your mouth, and use them to play with your pretty nipples. Can you do that for me?"

He starts babbling 'thank yous' and other praises, his voice breathy and wet. You know that if you could see him you'd see that his hips had started bucking up into his fist faster in response. He gets away with it this time.

"Hmm, such an eager slut, aren't you?"

He whines again and shakes his head before whispering a quiet "No."

"Oh you're not? Then you'd be completely fine if I just told you to stop?" You quip, biting down on your bottom lip. A petulant groan meets your ear and you laugh quietly. "That's what I thought. Now say it, tell me how much of a slut you are for me."

"I'm s-such a slut, touching myself to the sound of your voice. Was a bad boy. Always such a slut for you, sir. Wish you were here so I could c-cum down your throat." His words slur together, so cock drunk he can barely think about what he's even saying as long as he pleases you.

Your eyes flutter shut, jaw clenched as you try to maintain your composure. You dig your fingers into the soft flesh of your thighs trying to curb the flames licking across your skin.

"God yeah, you're right it's so filthy you called me just so I could talk you through your orgasm, maybe I shouldn't let you." You tease, the sly grin creeping back onto your face.

"Pleasepleaseplease, no, please sir. Wanna cum so fucking bad." He begs, the words slurring together in his haste to get them out. "I'll be so good, promise I'll be a good boy, I wanna cum for you." It's so fucking filthy and so pretty, you wish you could reach out and wipe the tears you know are probably streaking his cheeks by now.

His left hand picks up speed, stroking his length at a lighting pace, his right hand is still tugging and pinching his nipples making them sensitive and puffy. He's going to cum soon whether you tell him he can or not and he knows it.

You can hear it in his voice, a tightness in his throat when he cries out that tells you just how close he is. It's a pathetic little noise and it makes your eyes roll back for a moment. It's impossible for you to keep your hands to yourself at this point.

You shove your underwear down and run your fingers over your cunt brushing up and down once, twice, before finding your hole and pressing two fingers inside. The moan you let out is wanton and filled with a deep, aching need which makes Johnathan's ears perk up.

"Fuck you sound so good, sir." He sighs breathily, his lashes flirting across his cheeks as he tries to keep his eyes open. "Are you touching yourself too?" He begs to know.

"Mhmm." You squeak, the sound of your juices sloshing as you finger yourself fill your room. A devious plan enters your mind and you quickly move the phone's receiver down between your thighs to give him an earful. He lets out a cacophony of delicious noises hearing how wet you are, and how hard you're fucking yourself.

"Wish it was me, fuck! Fuck I wish I was inside of you!" Is what you hear when you bring the phone back up to your ear.

“You're so fuckin' wet!" He grunts, and pants and you know it's not long before he lets go.

“S’all for you." You huff with a smirk, picking up your own pace.

“Wanna taste you, sir. Wanna-wanna lick into you and taste you, make you cum all over my face.” His slurred words make your head spin. You squeal as your thighs begin to shake.

“Fuck, Johnny, m’cumming, cum with me sweetheart!" You moan breathlessly, your muscles tightening as you finally let go, gushing around your fingers.

Johnathan‘s eyes clamp shut, as white hot ribbons of cum shoot up onto his torso, covering his stomach and parts of his chest. His free hand fists into his sheets, knuckles turning white from the strain, his lips are parted in a near perfect ‘O’. It's an obscene display you both wish you could be there to witness.

“Fuck, t-thank you, sir!” He groans, his voice scratchy and fucked out. It sends shivers across your body and your walls flutter around your fingers with aftershocks.

He keeps stroking and letting out the most pitiful whimpers and whines even after he's done cumming; and you let out the softest coo hearing the wet smack of his hand still pumping over his length.

Your eyelids feel heavy now as the post orgasm fatigue sets in, and you sink into your bed listening to his heavy breathing and soft moans. How the hell is he still going? You think to yourself.

“Honey...you don't have to keep going." You murmur sleepily. Your right hand is gently running across your thighs though, making your skin prickle.

“Feels so good, I wanna cum again for you, please, sir?" His voice is pleading and desperate and the knot in your stomach clenches with a deep ache.

“You think you can do that, doll?" You hum, dragging a hand up your body to start playing with your nipples lazily.

“Mhmm!" He whimpers, feeling his cock harden again in his fist. He knows it won't be long before he's ready to burst again.

“What a desperate little slut you are, Johnny." You laugh. As the word slut leaves your lips his cock twitches, and he lets out a breathy gasp.

“Tell me again how much of a slut you are..." You whisper. "Tell sir, how eager you are to cum again.”

His dick pulses and his hips buck at your words. He can barely hold together a sentence, his brain seemingly shut down from your words.

“I'm a desperate cum slut. I just wanna cum over and over again for you, sir. Wish you were here so I could eat you out, want you to cum on my face." He babbles again, his hand pumping faster and faster with each word.

“That's all you're good for isn't it, baby? Just a dumb, pathetic little fuck doll.” You coo condescendingly, smirking to yourself. His breath hitches in his throat and he whimpers quietly, eyes rolling back in his head.

“Yeah, yeah, yeah. S’all I'm good fo’." He cries, tears starting to form in the corners of his eyes.

“You gonna cum again for me, sweetheart?"

He squeaks and says “Mhmm!"

His fist is pumping so fast now you can hear the slick, sounds coming through the reciever and it makes the ache return between your legs. Damn him. You think, dragging a hand back down your torso.

“Do it, let go for me. Be a good boy, cum for me, right now." You pant, lazily running your fingers over your already sensitive cunt.

“Aggh! Mmmmhm! Fuck!" He grunts and whines his hips desperately rutting up into his tight fist. “Fuck, thank you, thank you, sir!"

His body thrashes across his sheets, hips still desperately thrusting into his fist. Cum shoots up over his torso adding to the mess he'd already made of himself.

Your skin prickles hearing his pretty moans and salacious pants, but you're too tired to do anything more than rub your clit lazily. You hum words of praise to him until he's come down from it a bit.

“You did so so good, such a good boy for me, honey. Love you so much. You're so good for me, came twice just to the sound of my voice."

He doesn't say anything, but he wears a sated and content smile, preening from the praise.

“You've been so good for me…but you've gotta do once last thing for me though. D’you think you can pull out one of your cameras and snap a few self portraits before you clean yourself up? Wanna see the product of my work next time I see you.” This makes him whine and blush, feeling embarrassed at the prospect of capturing himself on film like this, but it also sends a tingle up his spine. “Be a good boy for me, please."

“Yes, sir." He whispers, still catching his breath.

“Can't wait to see them tomorrow." You yawn feeling the fatigue set in as you hang up the reciever.

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