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luvsupa · 4 months ago

Text

“YOU’RE A STAR!”

tags: musician!choso x manager fem!reader, reader has a secret fan account, both are in 20, choso has lots of tattoos and is an r&b singer, he has piercings, smut (p in v), ōral sex (f!recieving), sub!choso (ish), voyeurism, etc. mdni.

w.c: 3,2k

a/n: YALL I’m almost at 2k LIKE THATS INSANEEEE!! TY GUYS SOSOS MUCHHH AHHH

+ erm if there’s errors lmkk

you sit in choso’s expansive dressing room, surrounded by his makeup and fashion assistants, eyes glued to the big screen as he finishes his final song of the concrrt. the sound of thousands of screaming fans fills the air, their voices blending with his deep, angelic one. even from back here, you can hear the unmistakable roar of the crowd, hanging onto every note he sings. the way he commands the stage, the way he moves—everything about him makes your chest tighten.

he looks unreal tonight, his stylist outdid themselves. the subversive, edgy look suits him perfectly, especially the ripped wife-beater that showcases his inked arms, gleaming under the stage lights. the body glitter you suggested—yeah, that was definitely a good call- catches the light in all the right ways, making him look out of this world.

you’re supposed to be his manager, maintaining some form of professionalism, but damn, it’s impossible when he looks this good. especially when he runs his hand through those messy brown locks , letting a few strands fall over his face. you bite your lip, trying to focus on anything but the way your heart races when he’s on stage.

the thought of professionalism slips even further when you pull out your phone, dimming the brightness low. not for work—no, not tonight. instead, you open the app you use to connect with his fanbase under your secret username.

chogetsmewetter

it still makes you smirk every time you see it. his fans had been relentless, trying to bribe you for the username. but it’s yours, and you're not giving it up for anyone.

chogetsmewetter: are u guys seeing how good he looks… need him immediately

responses flood in almost instantly.

chososwhore: baby, nobody wants him more than i do…

choochoo: y’all send videos of the concert plzzz :(

kamosbaby: my baby daddy lookin good on stage.

you’re too caught up in scrolling through the candid photos and fan reactions, smiling like an idiot, when the makeup assistant catches you off guard.

“what’s got you smiling like that?” she teases, arms crossed and eyebrow raised.

you quickly shove your phone into your pocket, plastering on your best fake smile. “just checking cho’s schedule for next week. his brothers want to surprise him at the last show.”

it’s a lie, of course, but you’re used to spinning quick stories, and she just shrugs, moving on. but not without another jab. “girl, you love calling him cho, don’t you? does he let you call him that in bed too?”

your eyes widen as choso’s fashion designer giggles along with her. “guys, nothing’s going on. we’re strictly business—i manage his schedule, and that’s it.” but the words taste bitter, even as you force them out. nothing more. yeah, right.

the deafening cheers from the TV rescue you from any more teasing. all eyes turn to the screen as choso wraps up, thanking the crowd with that deep, velvet voice of his. the camera zooms in on his face, his lips curling into a soft smile as he waves and blows kisses to the adoring fans. gosh, he’s perfect.

a few moments later, the dressing room doors swing open, and there he is. choso, in the flesh, followed by his bodyguards. his team erupts in cheers, swarming him with praise, but you move to the back in the corner, blending into the background. moments like this are too chaotic for you, but you know you’ll have your moment later, probably on the tour bus.

amidst the chaos, his eyes find you, and he frowns a little when he sees you typing away on your phone, oblivious to the world. he doesn't know, of course, that you're replying to posts about him.

before you can finish your latest message, you feel him standing right in front of you, towering over you. the air feels thick between you two, and you curse internally as you slip your phone into your pocket once again, heart racing.

“you forgetting something?” his voice is low, teasing, as he glances down at your hands.

you quickly shake your head, trying to play it cool. “c’mon, cho, you know i’d never survive in that crowd,” you say, nodding toward the gaggle of team still dying for his attention.

his hands, cold from the stage, slide into yours, pulling you just a little closer. you swallow hard. “i knowww, but your support matters the most outta all of ‘em,” he says, rocking slightly, his lips curling into that perfect half-smile. the one that makes your stomach flip.

he smells incredible, the scent of his unreleased cologne wrapping around you, making your head spin. you smile, turning away, but he moves with you, trying to catch a glimpse of that smile.

“c’mon, let’s grab dinner. my director’s waiting,” he says, releasing your hands, and you instantly frown, missing his touch.

you follow him and his bodyguards out, offering a quick farewell to the makeup and fashion team. they don’t miss the chance to wink at you, clearly still enjoying the teasing.

as you near the exit, the noise outside grows louder—fans desperate to catch one last glimpse of choso. this is the part of the night you dread, knowing how insane the crowd can get. but when he looks over his shoulder and gives you that grin, the chaos doesn’t seem so bad.

two guards swing open the doors, harsh light flooding in as flashes from cameras blind you instantly. the screams grow deafening, and you brace yourself. this is always the worst part—being unable to see, disoriented, as the paparazzi go wild trying to capture every inch of choso’s presence.

but choso? he thrives in this. he’s in his element, beaming as he dives straight into the crowd. signing albums, posing for photos, accepting gifts—he eats it all up. you trail behind one of his bodyguards, eyes flickering to where he’s standing. your heart clenches as you catch sight of him—his lips locked with a fan.

you swallow hard. it’s not the first time. he always does this with her—his so-called “number one fan.” he remembers her face, her name, every single time. each time he kisses her in front of his adoring crowd, it feels like a punch to the gut. the fans love it. the media laps it up, turning her into a minor celebrity among his fandom.

how do you know? through your secret fan account.

you scoff quietly to yourself as you slip past the crowf, making it safely onto the tour bus. heading straight for the private area at the back, you drop your bag onto one of the leather couches, sinking into the seat by the window. from here, you can still see him outside, giving the fans hugs, taking endless photos. you watch in silence, jealousy simmering just beneath the surface.

finally, after what feels like forever, choso steps onto the bus, breathless and flushed. he walks down the aisle toward you, eyes gleaming with excitement.

“fuckkk, they’re amazing,” he groans, collapsing onto the couch beside you, still riding the high from the crowd.

they’re amazing? or she’s amazing…

you force a smile, eyes glued to your phone. “you looked like you were having fun, choso,” you mutter, distracted by your personal texts. his head drops back with a groan. one thing he can’t stand is when you don’t give him your full attention.

before he can start whining, one of the fashion designers calls your name from the front of the bus. you sigh, getting up quickly to see what the issue is. in your rush, you leave your phone behind on the couch.

choso watches as you walk away, eyes narrowing when he sees your phone lying there. you never leave it behind, always keeping it close, and curiosity gnaws at him. his leg bounces as he contemplates it. fuck it.

he snatches your phone up, eyes widening as the first thing he sees on your notification center is all he need to see.

[chogetsmewetter] new like from choochoo and 100+ others:

I need to fuck choso nowww, he’s so fuckin hot it’s not fairrr.

damn.

a slow, wicked grin spreads across his face. so that’s why you’ve been acting weird. he sets your phone back down just as he hears your footsteps returning.

you return, completely unaware of what just happened. “choso, they said we can’t leave until another hour—” you start to explain, but he’s not listening. his thoughts are elsewhere, his leg bouncing slightly as he bites the inside of his cheek.

“how do you want me to fuck you?” he suddenly blurts out, his voice low and dark.

your eyes widen, body stiffening as his bold words hit you like a train. you fumble for the curtain, pulling it shut so the driver can’t hear.

“w-what the fuck are you talking about?” you stammer, your breath catching in your throat. his dark brown eyes lock onto yours, unwavering. he doesn’t need to say it—his gaze tells you everything.

he knows.

panic rises inside you as you glance toward your phone and then back to him. he nods slowly, confirming your worst fear. he found out.

“so… are you those shy freaks…” he asks casually, standing up from the couch. his towering frame looms over you, and your world feels like it’s shrinking as he removes his leather jacket, revealing his tattooed, muscular arms.

“y-you wanna do this here? in front of the fans?” you whisper loudly, eyes darting toward the windows that are now covered by the blinds.

he chuckles, low and wicked. “you didn’t seem to care posting your dirty thoughts in front of me.”

and he ate with that one.

just like how he’s now devouring you in the back of the tour bus. you’re nestled on the couch, right in front of the curtains that separate the chaos outside from your little world. choso is on his knees, going at you like a possessed man. your legs are pushed tight against your chest as he laps up your juices, sucking and swallowing your sweet fluids. his cold nose piercing nudges your clit as his tongue thrusts deep inside you at an inhumane speed. any trace of shame has long evaporated, replaced by his loud moans vibrating against your cunt, making your eyes cross slightly.

your hands tangle in his silky brown locks, tugging gently, which earns you a whimper as he pulls back, your essence and saliva coating his chin and glossy lips. “mmm, p-pull on it more, pretty,” he urges, gazing up at you with doe eyes, brows furrowed in concentration as he loses himself in you once again.

obeying him, you tug harder on his hair, bucking your hips against his face while his hands grip the back of your thighs, pushing you deeper into your chest. he’s growling now, lost in the pleasure he’s giving you.

“yesss, f-fuck, you’re so goooddd,” you praise, head thrown back as he slurps at your juices like a starving man. he pulls away to admire your twitching hole, his fingers parting your folds wider. he spits a wad of saliva directly into your gaping pussy, making you clench instinctively as he slides in two thick digits, effortlessly gliding through your sloppy walls. his thrusts are calculated as he studies your features, which are now squeezed shut in bliss.

“hmm, she’s fuckin’ wettt,” he comments, your pussy responding with loud, squelching sounds that fill the back of the bus, echoing your mess. “hahh, you put that username to use,” he taunts, your body burning with embarrassment. his thick fingers pick up speed, massaging that sweet spot, and your back arches off the couch, your lower tummy tingling as your breath quickens.

choso can sense you’re close, the way you tighten around him. suddenly, he sucks hard on your clit, swirling his tongue around your poor nub. you cover your mouth with your hands, muffling the moans that threaten to escape .

just before you can cry out his name, he pulls his fingers out, leaving you undone. he retreats from your soaked clit, watching your translucent essence dribble down your convulsing hole, spilling onto the couch. your breath hitches as he delivers a sharp slap to your pussy, jolting electricity through your body, and the sticky remnants of your orgasm cling to his palm, igniting an insatiable addiction to your sensitivity.

“nahhh, is this the wettest you can get?” he says, rising from his knees and unzipping his jeans, pulling his throbbing cock free from its confines. your mind goes blank at the sight. fuck, he definitely never lied about his size, especially in his songs. choso sits beside you, manhandling you onto his lap, your pussy pressing against his hard cock as you whimper,

this is really happening.

“ride me, darling—use me all you want.” he states, and it feels like you’re living out your dirtiest dream, because yu are. he leaves trails of kisses along the side of your neck, his glossy lips—coated in your cum—smudging against your skin. you stare down at his shaft, his leaky tip begging to be touched. raising your hips, you grab the base of his cock, making him wince as you align his rosy tip with your drooling entrance. his crownhead stretches you open, and you whimper at how big he is with each inch you take. your velvety walls accommodate his size, practically expanding as he settles into your pussy.

without warning, choso grips your hips, slamming you down against him. you wail as every inch of his cock plunges deep inside your walls, and he moans at how tight you are around him. “f-fuck, baby, takin’ so fuckin’ l-long,” he says impatiently, thrusting up into you as each movement leaves you more dazed and breathless.

with newfound courage, your hips immediately fuck back into his, faster than his sloppy thrusts, making his eyes roll back in pleasure. your grinding drives him wild, your pussy gripping him like it’s life or death. choso’s head falls back, broken moans slipping past his lips, his adam’s apple bobbing as he struggles to hold back even more sounds of ecstasy.

you can feel the heat building between you, his cock stretching you further with each thrust. you grind down harder, relishing the way his body responds, each movement causing him to whimper and squirm beneath you. his hands grip your waist, guiding you, but you can tell he’s losing himself in the sensation, growing more ditzy with every upward thrust.

“c’mon, baby, ride me h-harder,” he begs, voice thick with desperation. his eyes fluttering as he’s moaning loudly. it’s intoxicating, watching him come undone because of you. you match your pace to the rhythm of his moans, your slickness coating him more with each thrust. the sound of your bodies slapping together drowns out the cheers of the fans outside, your pussy so noisy it’s almost too loud for your own liking.

“mmm, keep your eyes on me, pretty boy,” you purr, brushing your fingertips through his hair, tugging a big- earning a whimper at the pet name. you can see the way he bites his lip, trying to hold back more moans, but you know he won’t last long.

“hgn, you think jus’ cause you’re on top ‘m your bitch?” he groans, the tension between you two thcick. his gaze is wild, pupils dilated, and it only drives you further as you increase your pace, your hips slamming hard against his thighs, coating his throbbing base with your slickness. you giggle as he pathetically moans out, hands gripping your flesh tighter as you grind harder. his chubby tip sloppily kisses your cervix, sending shockwaves through your body as it begins to shake.

the way he reacts to every thrust, every grinding motion sends a thrill down your spine. he’s completely lost in you, his breathing ragged and unsteady. “y-you feel so good,” he stammers, voice breaking as he struggles to keep his focus, each word laced with pleasure. you smirk, feeling powerful, proud at the control you have over him.

“mhmm, ‘m starting to think y’er all talk, cho. you’re not showing me how you’d fuck me,” you taunt, leaning in his ear and tugging on his ear piercings, making him shudder at your seductive voice.

your words truly did something to him, awakening something much darker within. without hesitation, he carelessly picks you up, sliding his cock out of your hole as he slams you against the table adjacent to the couch. bending you over, he realigns himself with your hypnotizing cunt, the air thick with the heat of your lust. choso slams his entire length into your pussy, the sound of slickness echoing in the cramped space as your body squelches loudly, both of you moaning in unison. he grips your hips tightly, pounding mercilessly into you, each thrust sending shockwaves through your body as you cry out, not caring if the bus driver or any staff hears your cries of pleasure.

“cunt so good,” he growls, feeling you clamp down hard on his girthy length. his moan resonates deep within your core as he swats your ass, the sound of skin meeting skin sending electric jolts through you. he feels like he’s deep in your guts, rearranging everything inside you, each thrust making your pussy squelch obscenely. it’s so loud that it drowns out any sounds from outside, the wet slaps of your bodies merging into a symphony of lust. you’re practically squeaking like a damn mouse with every thrust, your body unable to contain the pleasure coursing through you.

without warning, he grips your hair and pulls you up against him, his mouth brushing against your ear as he whispers, “take it all, mama. you can take it.” his words send a shiver down your spine, the duality of his sweet yet dominating tone intensifying your arousal. you nod, feeling yourself surrender completely to him, wanting nothing more than to be his.

“m-more cho’ ,” you whine, and he responds with a primal growl, his hips slamming into yours harder, faster, pushing you closer and closer to the edge. his movements are relentless, each thrust a story to his desire, his need for you. you can feel the tension coiling tighter within you, the pressure building to a breaking point.

but then, in the midst of your euphoric bliss, you slowly open your eyes, and your jaw drops in shock. he placed you directly in front of the window, where all the fans are just outside, oblivious to the scandalous scene unfolding inside. the reality of the moment crashes over you, and you gasp, suddenly aware of the possibility of being seen.

“c-cho… the—fuckk—the fans,” you manage to warn, your entire body jolting with his relentless thrusts, each one motivating him to go even faster, to claim you harder.

“nahh, now you wanna back out?” he snarls through gritted teeth, going absolutely feral. his grip tightens as he reaches to grab the back of your hair, pulling you flush against his chest, forcing you to take him deeper. the blinds rattle as he yanks them open wider, letting in more light for the fans to see everything happening inside. the flashes from paparazzi cameras blind your vision as they snap multiple shots of your fucked out expression, choso grinning behind like a devil at each click.

“say cheese, pretty. you’re gonna be a star,”

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