Jungkook arrived at Studio 7 early.

Too early.

The studio was still being set up, lights warming, cables coiled across the floor. Namjoon, the photographer, was adjusting a backdrop when Jungkook stepped inside with the calm confidence of a man who expected the world to obey him.

Namjoon looked up, blinking.

“Oh—sir? The shoot is later—”

Jungkook slipped a thick envelope into his hands.

Namjoon froze.

He opened it.

His eyes widened.

He swallowed hard.

“Do whatever I say,” Jungkook murmured, voice low, steady, dangerous.

“And keep your mouth shut.”

Namjoon didn’t ask questions.

Money this thick didn’t leave room for questions.

He nodded.

Jungkook smirked faintly.

“Good. Let’s get ready. She’ll be here any minute.”

——

The studio door chimed softly. Tae stepped in, clutching her dress. Jungkook’s breath hitched. Sunlight streamed through high windows, illuminating her like forbidden fruit. The flimsy dress clung to every outrageous curve – the impossible swell of her breasts, the sinful dip of her waist flaring into hips that begged hands to grip them.

Beneath the shimmering fabric, the outline of lace panties hinted at the plump mound they barely contained. Her pink lips parted in surprise. "Mr. Jeon?" Her cheeks flushed crimson.

"Tae-yah," Kook breathed, his gaze ravenous, tracing her from flushed face down the trembling length of her exposed thigh. "Suho called. Told me everything." He stepped closer, invading her space. She smelled like jasmine and warm skin. "He’s… terribly sorry he couldn’t make it." His eyes lingered on the shadowed valley between her breasts.

Namjoon cleared his throat loudly, stepping forward. His voice sounded unnaturally rehearsed. "Right! Let's maximize the paid time slot. Full nude shoot today, just as... confirmed." He avoided Tae's widening eyes. "Client directive."

Tae recoiled. "Naked? Alone?" Her knuckles whitened on the dress. "No! Suho knows I wouldn’t–"

"Ah, but he did," Jungkook smoothly interrupted, pulling out his phone. He tapped it, holding it out. On the screen was a fabricated text exchange – Suho’s name, Suho’s picture – reading: ‘Dad, convince Tae! Studio insists full commitment today or forfeit the deposit + penalty fee! Tell her I said it’s fine. Need these pics perfect!’

His thumb hovered over the message timestamp – minutes ago. "See? He trusts you completely. Doesn't want to disappoint the photographer." Kook’s gaze dropped pointedly to her trembling cleavage. "Or waste this... investment."

Tae stared at the fake text, panic warring with a desperate desire to please Suho. The penalty fee… Suho’s frantic merger texts… His father’s imposing presence. Her throat tightened. A traitorous flicker of heat ignited low in her belly. "H-He approved… this?" she whispered, voice thick with confusion and a sudden, terrifying thrill.

Jungkook nodded slowly, a predator savoring the trap springing shut. "Then… okay," she breathed, cheeks blazing scarlet. "F-For Suho."

Namjoon gestured jerkily towards the changing screen. "Five minutes! Both clients undress fully!" He practically fled back to his camera station.

Behind the flimsy screen, Tae’s hands shook as she untied the dress. It slithered to the floor. She unhooked her bra, the delicate lace pooling at her feet. Cool air prickled her bare skin. Hesitantly, she slid her panties down, stepping out of them. She stood trembling, utterly exposed. She pressed one hand tight over her plump, pink mound, the other trying vainly to shield her heavy, bouncing breasts. Her breath came in shallow gasps. Beyond the screen, she heard the rustle of expensive fabric – Jungkook shedding his clothes.

He emerged first. Tae’s gasp echoed in the sterile air. Jungkook stood naked, powerful muscles sculpted by relentless discipline. His shoulders were broad, his waist trim, legs thickly corded. And between them… Tae’s eyes locked, horrified and fascinated, on the thick, heavy length of his erection, already fully erect. It dwarfed Suho’s. Her mouth went dry.

Jungkook’s own sharp intake of breath cut through the silence. His gaze devoured her – the porcelain skin glowing under the lights, the obscenely full, pink-tipped breasts her small hands couldn't hope to cover, spilling lushly over her arms. His stare dropped lower, past the frantic flutter of her fingers over her flat stomach, down to the plump swell of her hips and the rounded, jutting curve of her ass. Finally, he fixated on the glimpse of slick, glistening pink flesh peeking through her trembling fingers clutching her pussy.

A low growl rumbled from his chest. "*Fuck*," he breathed, raw hunger darkening his eyes. "Suho... underestimated his treasure." His cock twitched, thick and pulsing.