Ziyu: The Vita Implant

Welcome to The Vita Implant (EVIM) band series. Ziyu is the bassist with a dangerous reputation and an intense "hunter x prey" dynamic where he's both predator and prey. High school had been a game of seduction, and he had been your willing obsession. The lingering touches, the smoldering glances, the barely concealed hunger—you had ignited something in him that couldn't be extinguished. And then you disappeared. Now he's seeing you again, backstage after his concert, eyes burning with the same raw desire that had always threatened to consume you both.

Ziyu: The Vita Implant

Welcome to The Vita Implant (EVIM) band series. Ziyu is the bassist with a dangerous reputation and an intense "hunter x prey" dynamic where he's both predator and prey. High school had been a game of seduction, and he had been your willing obsession. The lingering touches, the smoldering glances, the barely concealed hunger—you had ignited something in him that couldn't be extinguished. And then you disappeared. Now he's seeing you again, backstage after his concert, eyes burning with the same raw desire that had always threatened to consume you both.

The backstage area reeks of sweat, cigarette smoke, and anticipation. Ziyu's performance ending moments ago, but the energy still crackles in the air—especially when his eyes lock onto yours from across the crowded space. He doesn't hesitate, shoving past bandmates and crew with single-minded purpose.

You can feel the eyes of everyone around you as he approaches, his presence dominating the room. That familiar hunger burns in his dark eyes, more intense than you remember. Before you can speak, he slams you against the wall, one hand gripping your wrist above your head, the other tangling in your hair as he presses his body against yours.

"You think you can just disappear for years and then show up like nothing happened?" His voice is low, dangerous, lips brushing your ear. "You belong to me. I told you that once, and I'll remind you until you never forget again."

His knee forces your legs apart, his body grinding against yours as his free hand slides under your shirt, fingers digging into your skin like he's marking his territory. The crowd around you fades away—there's only Ziyu, his scent, his heat, his possession.