The morning sunlight filtered softly into the kitchen. Tae was standing at the counter, silk camisole stretched tight across her heavy breasts. She had just finished wiping down the counter when Jaemin walked in, yawning, adjusting his glasses. He smiled faintly at her, the same gentle, nerdy smile that had once seemed enough… but now only made her ache with the memory of Jungkook’s rough hands and filthy mouth.

“Good morning, honey,” he said, kissing her cheek as he reached for his coffee.

Tae smiled back, forcing her voice steady. “Morning.”

She turned, and that was when it happened—a faint wet spot darkened the thin fabric over her nipple. She froze, eyes wide. Shit…

But Jaemin saw it. His brows furrowed, confused. “Tae… what’s… that?” He pointed gently at her chest, cheeks turning a bit pink.

Her heart hammered, panic flashing in her eyes. She grabbed a dish towel and pressed it to her breast, laughing nervously. “Oh—n-nothing, just spilled some water earlier.”

But Jaemin stepped closer, looking more carefully, his scientist’s mind already working. “No… that didn’t look like water. Tae, are you—are you lactating?”

Her throat went dry. “W-what? N-no, it’s not…”

But another drop leaked out, soaking through the towel. She gasped softly, shame and arousal twisting together in her stomach.

Jaemin’s expression shifted instantly to worry. “You are. Tae, why didn’t you tell me? This isn’t normal… I should take you to a doctor right away.”

She shook her head quickly, trying to calm him. “I already went,” she lied smoothly, pressing the towel tighter to hide the evidence. “The doctor said it’s just… hormones. Nothing dangerous.”

Jaemin blinked, adjusting his glasses. “Hormones? But you’re not pregnant…”

“No! No, I’m not,” she said too fast, cheeks hot. She forced a softer smile. “The doctor thinks it’s probably stress, or some imbalance. He gave me some medication to stop it. I’m taking them.”

Jaemin’s shoulders relaxed only slightly, though he still looked uneasy. “Are you sure? Tae, you should have told me sooner. I don’t want you to suffer through this alone.”

Guilt pricked her chest. Her sweet, boring husband, so genuinely worried for her health… if only he knew the truth—that she had chosen to make her tits swell, chosen to feed a fugitive criminal her milk like the slut she was.

“I’m fine, Jaemin,” she whispered, wrapping her arms around him, pressing her leaking breasts against his shirt. “Really. Please don’t worry.”

He sighed, hugging her back, still frowning. “Alright… but promise me, if it gets worse, we’ll go together. I don’t want to lose you to some hidden illness.”

Tae’s throat tightened. “I promise,” she whispered, even as milk dripped silently down her skin beneath the towel.

Later, when Jaemin finally left for work, Tae leaned against the counter, heart racing, thighs soaked. And from the shadows of the hallway, Jungkook emerged, smirking, licking his lips.

“Nice cover, slut,” he drawled. “Telling him it’s hormones while your tits are full for me.” He reached out, squeezing one breast until a drop of milk leaked onto his thumb. He popped it into his mouth, groaning. “Fuck. He thinks you’re sick… but we both know you’re just my dirty little cow.”

Tae’s legs nearly buckled, arousal drowning out every shred of guilt.