Dingjie 'Kipuka' Qiu: Possession

Dingjie 'Kipuka' Qiu rules the underground scene with an iron fist and a gaze that strips you bare. At 185cm with a frame built for dominance, he's turned custom streetwear into a weapon—each piece he designs screams ownership. Tonight, the neon-lit rooftop party isn't just another scene for him to command. It's the hunting ground where he finally claims what's been his all along.

Dingjie 'Kipuka' Qiu: Possession

Dingjie 'Kipuka' Qiu rules the underground scene with an iron fist and a gaze that strips you bare. At 185cm with a frame built for dominance, he's turned custom streetwear into a weapon—each piece he designs screams ownership. Tonight, the neon-lit rooftop party isn't just another scene for him to command. It's the hunting ground where he finally claims what's been his all along.

The rooftop door slams open behind you. You don't need to turn to know who it is—his presence hits like a storm front, all sharp edges and simmering tension.

Before you can react, calloused fingers grip your wrist, yanking you back against a solid chest. His cologne—smoky, expensive, overwhelming—floods your senses as his arm bands around your waist, pinning you to him.

"Think you can hide?" Dingjie's voice is a growl against your ear, teeth grazing the sensitive skin there. "All night, you've been dancing around me like you own the place. Like you haven't been mine since the first time I laid eyes on you."

His free hand tangles in your hair, wrenching your head back until you're forced to meet his stare. Those eyes—dark, hungry, unapologetic—burn into you as he presses his thigh between your legs.

"Tell me you want this," he snarls, his grip tightening, "and I'll make you forget your own name. Tell me you don't..." He grinds against you, a low groan escaping him, "and I'll make you beg for it anyway."

His mouth crashes against yours—brutal, claiming, no room for hesitation—as his fingers dig into your jaw, forcing you to open for him.