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lee-knowss · 10 hours ago

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STRAY HEARTS: RENT-A-BOYFRIEND

⤷ Agent Assigned: Kim Seungmin x afab!reader ⤷ Client Scenario: A formal gala event with the unwelcomed presence of an ex-fiancée ends with three times the customer satisfaction ⤷ Case Warnings: protected sex, car sex (public sex), cowgirl, oral (f.rec), fingering (f.rec), multiple orgams (f.rec) ⤷ WC: 3k ♡ Stray Hearts File: 001 of 015 ⋆｡‧˚ʚ Masterlist ɞ˚‧｡⋆

Your match is 2 minutes away.

The dot on the Rent-a-Boyfriend app inches closer, your nerves are taut under the smooth line of your gown. He’s almost here. One minute away now.

Your screen glows dim under the table you were dragged to by a new hire who talks too much and thinks that the two of you are friends. You aren't, but for now, you'll pretend. It's better than looking like you're alone while your ex-fiancée flaunts that blonde from accounting like she's a rare Rolex.

Part of you hates him, another part of you wishes you didn't. Maybe then it wouldn't be so painful to see him at events like this. Not because you miss him, no. It’s because he’s an asshole.

Your colleague laughs at a joke someone else told and you take the opportunity to slip away. You swipe a glass of champagne off of a nearby tray and drink it too fast to be considered well mannered.

Then—because the universe loves a well timed fuck-you—that’s exactly when he shows up. Your ex.

“Didn’t expect to see you here,” he says, all smug in his navy tux, hand already on the waist of the bright-eyed blonde. Her dress is too tight and bright for a gala, you can tell she doesn’t care.

“Why wouldn’t I be?” you answer coolly, fingers clutching your clutch tighter than necessary.

He shrugs. “Just thought it might be hard, ya know. Coming alone.” You don’t flinch. You smile. He’s twenty seconds away.

Your ex opens his mouth again—probably to drop some condescending bomb about how he’s “sure you’ll find someone someday”—when a hand touches the small of your back, large and warm. Splayed right over the slight curve in your spine.

“Sorry I’m late, sweetheart,” a low, syrupy voice interrupts. “Parking was a nightmare.”

Your ex turns just in time to see ‘your man’ step into view, black suit like it was made just for him, tie knotted clean enough to tell that he’s done this before.

“Kim Seungmin,” he says smoothly, nodding once at your ex, unbothered, eyes dark but gleaming like he’s already getting a kick out of this. “Director of Strategy at Asan Tech. You are?”

The lie rolls off his tongue like he truly believes it. Hell, it was believable. Even though all he did was spell NASA backwards and slap tech at the end… your ex seems to buy it. You attribute it to the way Seungmin carries himself. There’s a velvet air to him. Something that says ‘I’m barely trying and I’m still better than you’. Something that makes you feel hot in places you shouldn’t, but still, you hold onto his arm a bit tighter.

Your ex stiffens, mouth twitching as he mutters his name. “She and I used to—”

“Ah,” Seungmin cuts in, tone dipped in amusement. “One of those tragic mistakes she doesn’t talk about.”

You almost choke.

Your ex bristles. The blonde is too busy gawking at your man to notice.

Seungmin leans in just a bit, hand resting naturally over yours where you hold him. “Shall we?” he murmurs in your ear, like you’re lovers who never stay at one stop for too long. Easily bored by those who are clearly not on your level.

Once you’re away from the blast zone and seated at your assigned table, you lean in. “Director of Strategy?”

He shrugs, unbothered. “Would’ve gone with CEO, but I didn’t want to emasculate him so hard he goes to HR in the morning. You’re welcome.”

You scoff. “You really think you're charming, don't you?” he’s too busy swiping a glass of champagne from a passing server to look your way. You take the opportunity to assess him properly—sharp jaw line, glowing skin, dark eyes that challenge you just right—then he looks back your way, sliding a glass over.

“Charming enough that you picked me,” he says, not missing a beat. “From just a picture too, so yes. I do.”

You roll your eyes and sip your champagne, but the way he watches you over the rim of his glass—lazy, amused, like you’re his entertainment for the evening, not a client—makes your chest feel tight.

Now dinner starts.

The seating chart is a set up. Your ex and his blonde arm candy are across from you and Seungmin at the long table. The tablecloth is ivory, the centerpieces are gaudy, and the blonde is still chewing her gum. Too loud, too absent minded. Your ex is bragging about god knows what to some senior employee he’s clearly trying to kiss up to. He always was a sell out.

Then there’s Seungmin— sitting with one arm draped across the back of your chair, legs spread just wide enough to toe the line between casual and cocky. He looks like he owns the place. He hasn’t looked at the menu. Hasn’t looked at the servers. Hasn’t even glanced at the table of executives eyeing you both with thinly veiled curiosity.

His eyes are only on you.

“You’re staring,” you mutter, sipping your water without meeting his gaze.

“You’re wearing that dress,” he replies like it’s something he’s used to. Something that routinely poisons his self control. “I’m just appreciating the craftsmanship.”

Your mouth twitches. “The fabric?”

“No.” He leans in, voice low and heat-laced. “The body in it.”

You nearly choke. Again.

He smirks, eyes never leaving your flushed expression.

Across the table, your ex keeps glancing over. His date is talking to someone else entirely and that senior exec he was trying to butter up keeps avoiding eye contact with him. You’ve knocked him off his game. And damn it feels good.

Seungmin’s fingers brush your knee under the table. Casual. Intentional. A distraction. You jolt just a little—surprised but not displeased. He still hasn’t looked away from you, even as he speaks loud enough for nearby ears to hear. “Thank you for bringing me tonight, baby.”

You blink, you wanna say that he had no choice, that he’s literally being paid by the minute but you smile instead “I hope that you’re enjoying yourself, honey.”

The smirk that he offers you is disarming, practiced and perfected. “Of course I am. It’s not every day I get to be the hottest man in the room with the most stunning woman on my arm. Free drinks are just a bonus.”

You roll your eyes, still smiling despite yourself. “You really practice lines like that in the mirror, don’t you?” your voice is a whisper, he watches your lips then leans in just close enough for his own to brush your cheek.

“Only the ones that work.” Your cheeks heat, you clear your throat. How is he so good?

When the first course is served, Seungmin finally looks away. He glances at the plate like it personally offended him, then back at you. “That’s a leaf.”

“It’s arugula.”

“It’s offensive.”

You laugh under your breath, shaking your head. His expression is dead serious as he forks the salad like he’s the one filing a complaint with HR in the morning. The woman next to you—a junior VP with a Cartier bracelet and gossip glinting in her eyes—leans over.

“So,” she says with a saccharine smile. “You two are precious. How long have you been seeing each other?”

You freeze.

Seungmin, however, doesn’t even blink. “Six months,” he says smoothly, setting his fork down. “Met at a conference out of town. She was wearing red lipstick and giving dirty looks to the panelists. I knew I was doomed but I just had to know her name.”

You stare. Impressed.

“Oh, wow,” the woman laughs, hand fluttering. “That’s so…romantic.”

“It wasn’t,” he deadpans. “She told me I was boring before I even introduced myself.”

“I wasn’t wrong,” you shoot back, playing along now. “He was quoting Plato to a bartender.”

“And you ordered vodka cranberry like a nineteen year old trying to blackout before curfew.”

“Excuse me for having taste.” The man beside Seungmin chuckles awkwardly, clearly unsure if you’re flirting or fighting.

Seungmin reaches over and gently tucks a strand of hair behind your ear. Too gently. His fingers linger just a second too long. “Noona is even prettier when she’s mean.” he says casually before taking a sip of wine. You dig your nails into his thigh under the table, a silent sign to shut the hell up. His mouth twitches.

Asshole.

He’s a cocky, smooth, handsome asshole.

When you glance at him, your ex is glaring at you and the blonde is gawking at Seungmin once again. It even seems that a few other ladies at the table have joined her in appraising your man.

Mission successful.

The rest of the night is performance art. He knows just how to lean in, just how to touch you without looking like he’s trying. When he laughs, it feels unrehearsed. When he calls you “baby” in front of a coworker, it sounds like he’s said it a thousand times before.

You don’t know how much of it is an act anymore. You don’t know which one of you is blurring the lines. You just know that nothing feels clear right now.

You reach for your glass again. Just as you realize he’s watching you again, leaned back with heart eyes so convincing you forget the arrangement for a beat.

“Stop looking at me like that,” you say.

“Like what?”

“Like this isn’t pretend.”

He hums. “Tell me what part’s pretend, and I’ll stop.”

You don’t have an answer.

So you take another sip. You let his hand rest on your thigh for the rest of the meal, thumb tracing light circles while he tells some made up story about a trip you two took to Aruba. And he just keeps looking at you.

· · ─ ·♡· ─ · ·

The night winds down with speeches and too many fake laughs. Your heels start to pinch. Your wine glass stays half-full, untouched now because if you drink anymore, you’ll say something reckless.

Finally, when the gala begins to thin out, you slip your arm into his and walk toward the parking lot. The night air is a welcome relief—crisp and clean compared to the stifling heat inside, or maybe it was just the warmth of his hand on your lower back for the past twenty minutes.

“Did I play the role well enough for you?” he asks, tone dry.

You toss him a glance. “Yup. You were just the right amount of asshole.” He smirks, small and lethal. You ignore the way it makes your chest flutter. “You nearly made me believe it.”

“You looked like you were enjoying yourself.”

“And you looked like you do this every weekend.”

“I might,” he says, holding your gaze for just a second before letting his eyes slowly wander down, tracing curves that his fingers have ‘mindlessly’ grazed all night. “But I think tonight has been my favorite.”

There’s a pause. Too long.

You shift your weight, wrap your arms tighter around yourself.

“I’ll give you a five-star review,” you mutter, pretending not to feel how charged everything is. “Maybe even a tip. Maybe.”

His lips curve. “Don’t tip me unless I earn it.”

Your eyes flick down to his lips and the champagne from earlier starts speaking for you “Oh? So, is there a way you want to earn it?”

He steps closer, one hand reaching out to fix your necklace—slow, deliberate, far too intimate for a stranger.

“Maybe,” he says, voice dropping low. “The dinner was nice but that was just foreplay.” Your breath catches.

Seungmin reaches past you and pulls open your car door. The back door. You look behind you, then up at him, eyebrows raised. “You’re serious?”

He doesn’t respond, only looks at you with dark eyes that say get in loud and clear. You don’t move, so he does, a small step forward to close the gap between you.

“You hired me,” he says calmly. “Let me finish the job.”

There’s something daring in his voice that makes your thighs clench without permission. You’ve seen his reviews, you knew this was on the table—hell, you’d hoped for it.

Seungmin watches you just as he has all night, Studying. Jaw clenching when his eyes flick to how your tongue darts out to wet your lips. You bat your lashes once, twice, then turn and slide into the seat.

The door shuts behind you. He walks around the other side of the car, no rush, and gets in next to you. Then, with the quiet click of the door lock and the parking lot streetlamps painting amber along the sharp cut of his jaw, he turns to you.

“You’re tense,” he says, reaching over to touch your knee, fingers brushing under the hem of your dress. “Let me help.”

Then he kisses you. Hard. Like this is the part of the job he looks forward to. Like he’s been counting down the seconds until he could ruin you and call it customer service.

Your head tilts back instinctively, one of his hands cradles the back of your neck. The other finds your waist, sliding down to the curve of your thigh. He hikes your dress up with the kind of expertise that says he fucks just as good as he looks. That alone makes you moan into him.

Fingers skim your core over your underwear and you suck in a breath. Seungmin breaks the kiss, nose brushing yours. “Tell me how you like to be fucked.”

You swallow. “With your fingers first. Then your mouth. Then—”

He presses two fingers between your legs and your head falls back with a moan. Every thought is gone, every nerve sparks with the press of his fingers, long and precise.

“Keep talk’n to me” he hums against your throat, slowing his ministrations just enough for you to think. You clear your throat, blink your eyes open and part your lips just enough to make the smallest sound.

“Then—then fuck me. Let me ride. Use me after. I don’t care. Just make me come until I can’t see straight.” his finger hooks into the gusset of your panties, pulling them aside just enough for his thumb to find your clit.

“Good girl.” The way he says it wrecks you. Your hips jerk, chasing more, but Seungmin doesn’t give you a second to think. His fingers move with effortless precision, tracing the heat between your thighs like he’s memorizing every inch.

Slow. Measured. Cruel.

You’re already panting. “Let’s try for three, yeah?” he murmurs, dragging his mouth along your jaw as one finger dips in and curls.

Your hips kick up again, uneven like the moan breaking from your chest. “Ya know, thought you’d be more of a fight.” he kisses the shell of your ear, teeth grazing the lobe. “But you’re melting for me like you’ve been counting down the seconds.”

You grab his tie. “You’re on the clock.”

“Mm.” he slips in another finger, making you shudder. “Then you’d better come fast.”

You choke on a gasp, legs spreading wider as his fingers work you open. You watch him—eyes half-lidded, lips parted, the most infuriating look of casual confidence on his face. It’s unfair. He’s not even breaking a sweat. You’re soaked, whining under your breath, trying not to collapse in the backseat of your own damn car. He pulls his fingers out and sucks them into his mouth then moans—just a little, just enough to ruin you.

Then he shifts, your back to the passenger door and one leg over his shoulder. His hands knock your thighs apart with ease, dress bunched around your waist, and—

Holy. Shit.

He eats like he’s starving. Moaning as soon as his tongue flattens against your cunt and grunting when you make the prettiest little keen he’s heard in a while. Your back arches off the seat, hands buried in his hair. His tongue is relentless—circling, flicking, dipping down just to drag another broken whimper out of your throat before focusing back on your clit. He spits onto you clit just as his fingers rejoin the mix, fucking you open while his tongue follows.

“Oh—fuck—Seungmin—”

He hums. You cry out. He doesn’t stop until your thighs are trembling and your vision is white-hot at the edges. Until you’re coming into his mouth, hips grinding helplessly, and moaning too loudly for a backseat fuck.

He pulls back, chin glistening, smug as hell. “One.”

“One?”

“We agreed on three, remember?” he’s already unbuckling his belt. “Or has that pretty head already gone dumb for me?”

You don’t even have time to blink before he’s pushing his slacks down, cock thick and flushed. He grips your hips, pulling you into his lap like it’s nothing.

“Ride me,” he murmurs. “Like you said you would.” He rips open a condom between his teeth, rolling it on with one hand which would be a red flag for anyone who didn’t do this for a living.

You straddle him, breath catching as he lines himself up, rubbing the tip through your folds and letting you control how much you take. His weeping cock disappears into you slowly. The stretch is perfect, the length is ridiculous. Your moan when he bottoms out is downright obscene.

“Fuck, noona—” he groans, hands digging into your ass. “You’re tighter than expected.”

“So you expected something?” he huffs a laugh, then thrusts up hard.

Your head just barely hits the ceiling. “Jesus—!”

“Not here,” he says, smiling slow. “Just me.”

His hands smooth up your sides, guiding you while you ride him like you’ll never get the chance to again—because you might not. Dress pushed up, one heel digging into the leather seat and one lost on the floor, Seungmin buried deep and panting against your neck as you grind and bounce and take him.

His hands are everywhere—guiding, gripping, spanking once, then twice when you slow down.

“Second one’s coming,” he warns.

You don’t believe him, until he brings his thumb to your clit and makes you see stars.

Two.

You’re barely coherent, slumped against his chest when he shifts your position just enough to fuck up into you with maddening precision.

“You asked for this, baby.” his voice is wrecked. The squelch of your cunt mixes with his heavy breathing. Your moans are muffled into his shoulder but he can hear you loud and clear over the sound of skin slapping.

“I paid for this.” you rasp, gasping when his lips find the sensitive spot of your neck.

“And I’m giving you your money’s worth.”

You claw at his shoulders, fingers digging in like holding on could steady what’s already spinning. “I’m gonna—”

“Good. Take it.” His pace grows sharper, more frantic. “Cum on my cock. So I can fill you up like a good fucking boyfriend would.”

You fall apart.

Three.

“That’s it—shit, gonna cum. Gonna fucking—fuck, noona” You’re shaking in his lap, panting against his neck, muscles limp and dress falling off one shoulder when he finally kisses you—deep, slow, dirty.

He fucks you slow through his orgasm, tongue sliding over yours and low, rough groans vibrating through you. His muscles are tight, cock is throbbing. When he pulls back, you’re breathless.

And then he grins.

“Now,” he says, slicking his hair back with one hand, taking a deceivingly calm breath. "Don't forget to leave me a five-star review.”

You stare.

“You absolute menace.”

“Mm. But you’re glowing.”

You slap his chest, still twitching, and sigh. “Fine. But I’m not tipping.”

“You already did,” he says, smirking like he’s won something. “Three times.”

a/n: I was so nervous to post this! I hope you enjoyed the first one shot of my event! Thank you for reading ♡

Event Taglist: @bunnies-only @chrisbangsass @puccaaak @beal-o @jinniesgirl

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#stray kids fanfic #seungmin x reader #seungmin fic

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