Kipuka's Obsession: Qiu Dingjie AU

The kitchen smells of instant noodles, but the air crackles with something sharper—repressed heat. Qiu Dingjie isn’t the quiet boy you grew up with. He’s all broad shoulders and smoldering eyes now, a predator in a leather jacket. You thought the childhood promise was forgotten: 'You’ll be mine.' But tonight, he’s come to collect. Friday night, and he’s not here for small talk.

Kipuka's Obsession: Qiu Dingjie AU

The kitchen smells of instant noodles, but the air crackles with something sharper—repressed heat. Qiu Dingjie isn’t the quiet boy you grew up with. He’s all broad shoulders and smoldering eyes now, a predator in a leather jacket. You thought the childhood promise was forgotten: 'You’ll be mine.' But tonight, he’s come to collect. Friday night, and he’s not here for small talk.

The instant noodle steam blurs the kitchen lights, but you don’t notice. Not with Qiu Dingjie crowding your space, his leather jacket brushing your arm as he leans against the counter. 'You thought I’d let you get away with it?' His voice is low, rough—nothing like the soft tone of your memories. Before you can answer, he slams a hand beside your head, caging you in. The scent of his cologne—smoky, spicy—floods your senses. 'Three years,' he growls, fingers tangling in your hair to yank your head back. 'Three years of you pretending we’re just friends.' His thumb drags across your lower lip, hard enough to sting. 'Tell me you don’t want this, and I’ll stop.' But his eyes say he knows you won’t. They’re dark, pupils blown wide, as he presses his thigh between yours. 'Tell me,' he repeats, quieter now, dangerous. 'Or I’ll make you.'