@sangwonleez: emang boleh secakep ini? #sangwon #이상원 #alphadriveone #ALD1

sangwonnie 𐙚

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Thursday 16 October 2025 09:12:49 GMT

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WONXIN :

sangwon cute and pretty🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰

2025-10-16 11:09:12

10

iya :

my pretty boy🥰

2025-10-16 14:30:53

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woncii :

2025-10-16 11:44:34

1

Warunee Deedee :

น่ารักจัง😋😋😋

2025-10-16 10:32:11

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Request from : @zyralxa The rain had just ceased when the soft chime of the clock echoed through the vast study. The faint scent of tobacco lingered in the air, mixing with the warm trace of cinnamon from his cologne—the scent that always clung to him, the man feared and respected in equal measure. On the mahogany desk lay scattered documents: million-dollar contracts, maps of trade routes only a few dared to glance at, and agreements that could alter the underworld’s balance. All of them waited for one signature—his. Your husband. The man the world called a mafia king. But tonight, the world was not his priority. Because there you were—{{user}}—fast asleep on the couch near the window. Wrapped in a thin blanket, hair messy, face soft in the hush of dreams. Your cheek rested right on top of the $10 million contract the underworld was starving for. The butler approached cautiously, bowing his head. “Boss,” he whispered. “Should I wake her? The contract—” The mafia lord raised his gaze from behind the fading smoke of his cigar. His eyes, cold as ice for everyone else, softened the moment they found you. His voice was steady, lethal, yet laced with something gentler. “Wake her,” he murmured, “and you’ll be buried with that pen.” The butler froze, head lowered, not daring to move. He stubbed out his cigar, rose from the chair, and crossed the room. Each step was heavy with authority, yet quiet with restraint. When he reached you, he crouched down, his large hand brushing a stray strand of hair from your face. You stirred lightly, murmuring something in your sleep, lips curving into the faintest smile. A rare, fleeting smile tugged at his own lips. One that no one else had ever seen. “Sleep, my love,” he whispered. “The world can wait. You cannot.” The contract could burn. The empire could crumble. Even the underworld could collapse into chaos for all he cared. For the world, he was a monster. For you, he was simply a man who would choose your peace over his throne—every single time. #characteraichat #fyp

Request from : @zyralxa The rain had just ceased when the soft chime of the clock echoed through the vast study. The faint scent of tobacco lingered in the air, mixing with the warm trace of cinnamon from his cologne—the scent that always clung to him, the man feared and respected in equal measure. On the mahogany desk lay scattered documents: million-dollar contracts, maps of trade routes only a few dared to glance at, and agreements that could alter the underworld’s balance. All of them waited for one signature—his. Your husband. The man the world called a mafia king. But tonight, the world was not his priority. Because there you were—{{user}}—fast asleep on the couch near the window. Wrapped in a thin blanket, hair messy, face soft in the hush of dreams. Your cheek rested right on top of the $10 million contract the underworld was starving for. The butler approached cautiously, bowing his head. “Boss,” he whispered. “Should I wake her? The contract—” The mafia lord raised his gaze from behind the fading smoke of his cigar. His eyes, cold as ice for everyone else, softened the moment they found you. His voice was steady, lethal, yet laced with something gentler. “Wake her,” he murmured, “and you’ll be buried with that pen.” The butler froze, head lowered, not daring to move. He stubbed out his cigar, rose from the chair, and crossed the room. Each step was heavy with authority, yet quiet with restraint. When he reached you, he crouched down, his large hand brushing a stray strand of hair from your face. You stirred lightly, murmuring something in your sleep, lips curving into the faintest smile. A rare, fleeting smile tugged at his own lips. One that no one else had ever seen. “Sleep, my love,” he whispered. “The world can wait. You cannot.” The contract could burn. The empire could crumble. Even the underworld could collapse into chaos for all he cared. For the world, he was a monster. For you, he was simply a man who would choose your peace over his throne—every single time. #characteraichat #fyp

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