The Girlfriend Package (Taehyung x Reader)

The Father

"How's the practice?" Taehyung's mother asked offhandedly, as she picked through the greens of her gourmet salad, making a slight face of disgust as she pushed aside a tomato that wasn't to her satisfaction with the tines of her fork.

"It's the same as it's always been, mom." Taehyung replied with a slightly defensive tone to his voice, and a partial irritated sigh from between his lips, making you wonder how many of their conversations had started just like this. "Lots of rich women who aren't happy with their marriages, spending money that doesn't belong to them so that they can have the breasts of women half their age."

"It's only a question, Taehyung." Ms. Kim sniffed primly, as if his answer had offended her, before she set aside her fork and pushed away her barely touched salad. She reached for her wine glass, and her eyes flicked beside Taehyung to where you sat. "And what do you do, (Y/N)?"

The way your name slipped from her lips had your hackles immediately rising, but before you could even part your lips to start to say something, Taehyung had jumped in.

"She's an artist, mother."

Your jaw went slack in surprise and you glanced over to the man beside you, but his gaze was locked on his mother's across the table.

With any other man, you would have immediately been offended.

With any other man, either he was telling his mother you were an artist because he was ashamed of what you really did, or because he was scared of her reaction when she found out he was dating a 'common paid whore.'

However, Kim Taehyung was far from any other man.

The way Taehyung said the words, as if he hadn't even thought to say anything otherwise, had your stomach suddenly warm with affection and pride.

He hadn't even hesitated, because in his mind, you had no other job, he didn't see you as anything but an artist.

Because that's what you truly were. What you truly wanted to be. Escort was just your temporary title. Artist was your life calling.

"I've shown you her work that's in my waiting room and office." Taehyung continued easily, reaching to take a sip of his water, his other hand still hidden away beneath the table, resting lightly on your thigh. "You asked who the artist is. Here she is, in the flesh." He finally glanced over at you, and there was a pride and softness in his look that had your stomach doing somersaults.

You squeezed his fingers under the table and managed a smile in the direction of his still disapproving mother as you cleared your throat and answered casually, "I used to teach art at the community college, but my mother got sick and my sister had some extenuating circumstances, and I had to take a little break. I'm hoping to start back up soon though, because I love it, I really do."

"Hmm." Ms. Kim raised a brow and took another long sip of wine. "A teacher. How.....quaint."

"Yes, well teachers only shape the minds of the future, mother. You know how drab and unimportant that is." Taehyung quipped back casually, face straight, though you could clearly hear the barb of sarcasm behind his words.

His mother also noticed, eyes narrowing. "No need to be trite, Taehyung."

You held back a laugh, reaching out to take another abrupt drink from your bourbon, as Taehyung shot you a sidelong glance and the hint of a grin in the curl of his lips.

"It's obviously much more of an important job to replace worn out breasts on society's highest women." You couldn't help yourself-you pursed your lips to attempt to keep your face straight-as you angled toward Taehyung and raised an innocent brow in his direction. "Include in that job description the fact that you're providing old men with new dicks to screw over society, and you're golden."