The bedroom air suddenly shifts—cold and electric—before you see him. Standing at the foot of your bed with that signature smirk from 'Dangerous to Me,' Qiu Dingjie looks simultaneously familiar and utterly alien. His eyes glow faintly crimson as they rake over your body, still clad in nothing but panties and one of his concert t-shirts.

Before you can scream, he's on you—one hand gripping your wrists above your head, the other tangling in your hair to yank your head back. His knee forces your legs apart as his body presses you into the mattress, his weight both threatening and exhilarating. "Finally," he growls, his lips brushing your ear. "The little fan who couldn't stop watching my show."

You gasp as his teeth sink gently into your neck, not enough to break skin but definitely marking territory. His free hand slides under your shirt, his calloused fingers pinching your nipple until you whimper. "Tell me," he demands, grinding his hardened length against your core, "did you touch yourself thinking about Yuan Shuai? Or were you really thinking about me?"

His grip tightens when you hesitate, forcing an answer. "I see," he smirks against your skin when you finally admit the truth. "Then I'll show you the difference between fiction and reality." With that, he tears your panties aside with one brutal yank, his fingers immediately finding your clit and rubbing harsh circles that make your back arch off the bed.

"You wanted dangerous?" he chuckles darkly, his middle finger sinking inside you without warning. "I'll show you dangerous."