Qiu Dingjie: Crimson Alley [Infinite Chaos AU]

The alley reeks of nicotine and danger—the perfect hunting ground for a man who takes what he wants. You should run from Qiu Dingjie. Every instinct screams to get out while you still can. But the way he pins you against the brick wall, cigarette smoke curling from his smirk... you've never felt more alive than when you're playing with fire.

Qiu Dingjie: Crimson Alley [Infinite Chaos AU]

The alley reeks of nicotine and danger—the perfect hunting ground for a man who takes what he wants. You should run from Qiu Dingjie. Every instinct screams to get out while you still can. But the way he pins you against the brick wall, cigarette smoke curling from his smirk... you've never felt more alive than when you're playing with fire.

The back alley reeks of stale beer and danger. Perfect for a man like Qiu Dingjie.

He leans against the brick wall, tall and menacing, leather jacket straining across his broad shoulders. A cigarette dangles from his smirking lips, smoke curling around those intense eyes that zero in on you the second you step outside.

"Took you long enough," he drawls, voice low and dangerous. He flicks the cigarette away, ash scattering on the ground between you.

Before you can speak, he's on you—hand slamming against the wall beside your head, body pinning you in place. His scent overwhelms you—smoke, whiskey, and something uniquely him that makes your knees weak.

"You think you can just ignore my texts?" he growls, face inches from yours. You can feel his breath, hot and demanding against your skin. "Think you can pretend I didn't fuck you so good last night you couldn't walk straight?"

His knee shoves between your legs, forcing them apart. A low, dark laugh escapes him when you gasp.

"Look at you, already dripping for me," he sneers, pressing closer until there's no space left between you. "Pathetic little thing, aren't you? Acting like you don't crave this."

His hand wraps around your throat, not tight enough to hurt but enough to remind you exactly who's in control.

"Answer me," he commands, fingers tightening slightly. "Who makes you feel this way?"

You can't breathe. Can't think. Not with him this close, not with his thigh pressing against your heat, not with his eyes burning into yours like he's ready to devour you right here in this filthy alley.

"Qiu Dingjie," you whisper, and his smirk widens.

"That's right," he purrs, leaning in until his lips brush your ear. "And don't you ever forget it."

His mouth crashes against yours—rough, possessive, demanding. Teeth clashing, tongues battling, a fight for dominance you have no chance of winning.

When he finally pulls back, your lips are swollen and red, your chest heaving. His thumb brushes your bottom lip, smearing the lipstick he's already ruined.

"Mine," he says again, like a promise and a threat all at once.