The next evening, Tae sat alone in her dorm room, the glow of her laptop screen the only light cutting through the darkness. Her heart hammered against her ribs as she stared at the Elite Arrangements website. She’d spent the entire day overthinking every possible outcome—What if the profile was fake? What if he never replied? What if he did and realized she was connected to his son? But the anger still burned bright, hotter than the embarrassment crawling up her neck. This was for revenge. She could do this.

With a deep, shaky breath, she created her sugar baby account. Username: NeedyBabyTae. It felt ridiculous typing it, her cheeks flaming red, but she pushed on. Profile picture first—she scrolled through her camera roll and picked the sluttiest photos she had. One was a mirror selfie in a tiny red bikini from last summer, her big, perky tits barely contained, cleavage spilling over the cups, her round ass arched just right. Another was her in a sheer black crop top with no bra, nipples hard and visible, paired with low-rise shorts that showed the dimples on her lower back and the curve of her juicy cheeks. A third was a close-up of her face—pink lips parted in a pout, doe eyes wide and innocent, long hair tousled like she’d just been fucked. God, she looked like pure sin.

In the description, she kept it sweet but needy, the way she’d seen other profiles do it:

“22-year-old college girl looking for a generous, experienced daddy to take care of me 💕

I’m struggling with tuition and dorm life—I’d love my own little apartment where I can cook for you (I make the best homemade meals!).

In return, I’ll be your good girl—attentive, affectionate, and completely yours.

P.S. I’m a virgin… waiting for the right man to teach me everything 🌸”

Her finger hovered over the “Save” button for a full minute before she clicked it. Embarrassment flooded her, hot and prickling. “This is insane,” she whispered, burying her face in her hands. But beneath the shame was a thrill—a dark, delicious excitement. This was the first real step toward making Sehun pay.

She found JK_Exec’s profile again, her stomach flipping. With trembling fingers, she typed her first message:

“Hi daddy 🥺”

Sent.

Tae slammed the laptop shut and paced her tiny room in her pajamas—a baby pink camisole that clung to her heavy breasts, thin straps slipping off her shoulders, and matching shorts so short the bottom of her ass peeked out with every step. She waited. And waited. Hours passed with no reply. By midnight, disappointment settled in. Maybe it was fake after all.

She crawled into bed, phone clutched in her hand, and eventually drifted into an uneasy sleep.

Across the city, in the sprawling Jeon penthouse, Jungkook poured himself a glass of whiskey after another long, exhausting day. Yeji had spent the evening complaining about some social slight at a charity dinner, Sehun had barely looked up from his phone during family dinner, and the silence in his bedroom felt heavier than ever. At 45, he was successful beyond measure, but intimacy? Real connection? That had died years ago. He craved touch, warmth, someone who looked at him like he mattered—not for his money, but for him.

On impulse, he opened the sugar daddy app he hadn’t touched in months. Just to look, he told himself. But then he saw it—a new message notification. His thumb hovered before tapping it.

“Hi daddy 🥺”

From: NeedyBabyTae

Curiosity piqued, he clicked her profile. And froze.

The photos hit him like a punch to the gut. She was breathtaking—porcelain skin, full pink lips, huge innocent eyes framed by dark lashes. Her body was unreal: massive, perfect tits straining against fabric, tiny waist, an ass so round and juicy he could almost feel it in his hands. His cock stirred instantly, thickening in his sweatpants as he scrolled. Virgin? She was offering herself to the right man? His heart pounded, a mix of desire and something softer—protectiveness, maybe. She looked so young, so sweet, yet dressed like every man’s fantasy.

He read her description twice. Nothing crude, nothing demanding beyond normal needs—an apartment, tuition help, homemade meals in return. It felt… genuine. His erection throbbed painfully now, straining against the fabric. He palmed himself once, twice, trying to calm down, but the image of those big tits spilling out of that red bikini was burned into his mind.

Before he could overthink it, he typed back:

“Hi.”

Simple. Safe.

On the other side of the city, Tae’s phone buzzed under her pillow at 2:17 a.m. She jolted awake, heart racing as she saw the notification.

JK_Exec: Hi.

She fist-bumped the air so hard she nearly fell off the bed. “Yes! It’s real!” she whisper-screamed, a huge grin splitting her face. Plan on. Revenge on.

She typed quickly, nerves buzzing:

“Is this really Jeon Jungkook? Or someone pretending? 😅”

Jungkook, still awake in his study, actually chuckled at the message. Bold and cute. He liked that.

Instead of texting proof, he decided to take the risk. He hit the video call button within the app.

Tae’s phone vibrated with the incoming call. She stared at the screen in panic. Video? Now? But her pussy clenched at the thought—this was it. Proof he was real. Revenge within reach.

She scrambled up, glancing at the mirror. She looked exactly like the fantasy she’d sold: tiny white tank top stretched thin over her braless tits, nipples hard and poking through, the fabric so short it showed underboob. Her shorts were basically panties—pink cotton riding up her ass, the outline of her fat little pussy visible through the material. Hair tousled from sleep, lips swollen. Perfect.

She accepted the call.

The screen loaded, and there he was—Jeon Jungkook in the flesh. Shirtless, it looked like, broad muscular chest dusted with dark hair, strong arms resting on his desk, that salt-and-pepper hair slightly messy. His piercing eyes widened for a split second as he took her in, a flush creeping up his neck.

Tae’s breath caught. He was even more gorgeous in motion—deep voice about to greet her, that jawline sharp enough to cut glass.

On his end, Jungkook nearly dropped his phone. She was more beautiful than the photos—flushed cheeks, those huge innocent eyes staring back, tits practically falling out of that tiny top, nipples hard and begging for attention. His cock twitched hard.

“Hi,” they both said at the same time, voices soft and flustered.

Tae giggled nervously, tucking hair behind her ear, which only made her tank slip lower. “You’re… you’re really Jungkook.”

He laughed—a low, warm sound that made her pussy throb. God, that smile. “I am. And you’re… stunning.” He cleared his throat, trying to stay composed. “Tae, right?”

She nodded, biting her pink lip. “Yeah. I just… I had to make sure you weren’t fake. A lot of creeps on here.”

“Understandable,” he said, voice like velvet. “I don’t usually do this. But your message… caught my attention.”

They talked awkwardly at first—safe topics. She told him she was studying literature (lied and said at a university across town—couldn’t risk him knowing it was the same as Sehun’s). He asked about her favorite books, her classes, listened like he genuinely cared. He didn’t talk much about himself—just that he worked in business, traveled a lot. His eyes kept drifting down to her chest when she shifted, and she pretended not to notice how it made her wetter.

After twenty minutes of light chatter, both of them flushed and breathing a little harder, he said, “I’d like to meet you. Properly. Tomorrow, if you’re free.”

Tae’s heart nearly exploded. “Yeah. I’d like that.”

“I’ll text you an address in the morning,” he said, voice deeper now. “A private place. Just us.”

She nodded, unable to stop the smile spreading across her face. “Okay, daddy.”

The word slipped out naturally, and his eyes darkened instantly.

They exchanged real numbers. “Goodnight, Tae,” he murmured.

“Goodnight… Jungkook.”

The call ended.

Tae threw her phone down and jumped out of bed, dancing around her room in tiny circles, tits bouncing, ass jiggling. “Yes! Yes yes yes!” she squealed quietly. Revenge was officially in motion. She was going to seduce Jeon Jungkook—make him obsessed, make him hers—and when Sehun found out? His world would shatter.

She had no idea that the man on the other end of the call was lying back in his chair, hand slipping beneath his waistband, stroking his thick, aching cock to the memory of her flushed face and barely-covered body, whispering her name as he came harder than he had in years.

Jungkook stared at the ceiling afterward, a small smile on his lips. He felt… good. Alive. For the first time in forever.

He had no clue about her true intentions.

Tomorrow, everything would change.