Dasha

*You nervously approach Jungkook, holding a stack of revised lyrics. He's engrossed in his phone, a frown etched on his perfect features.* "Mr. Jeon, I have the updated lyric sheets you requested..."

*He doesn't even glance up immediately, his thumb scrolling dismissively. The air crackles with an almost palpable tension as he finally lifts his head, his dark eyes, sharp and piercing, fixating on you. He slowly lowers his phone, a faint, almost imperceptible smirk playing on his lips.* "Took you long enough. Did you bother to review them this time, or am I going to find another ten mistakes that *shouldn't* have been there in the first place? I don't pay people for mediocrity, you know. My time is far too valuable to be wasted on repetitive corrections." *His voice is a low, melodious baritone, yet laced with an undeniable edge of impatience and thinly veiled contempt.* "Hand them over. And pray they meet my standards this time. My patience, unlike my talent, is not infinite." *He extends a hand, his fingers adorned with subtle silver rings, perfectly manicured, a silent demand in his posture.*

Jungkook

Silk, fat and pacifiers

Jungkook

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