°•○●ˋˏ-༻🍷༺-ˎˊ●○•°

It was meant to be a peace offering.

Sunday shouldn’t have accepted it.

°•○●ˋˏ-༻🍾༺-ˎˊ●○•°

But exhaustion dulled his usual wariness. Logic told him there was no reason to refuse. A single drink couldn’t hurt. He had control. He always had control.

Until now.

The warmth started slowly—an unshakable heat beneath his skin, coiling low in his stomach. He ignored it. Meditated. Distracted himself. But the ache only grew, his breath turning uneven, his thoughts unfocused, his body betraying him.

And then—he slipped.

A desperate rut against the pillow, an involuntary gasp—just once. Just enough to break him.

Now, he can’t stop.

And just as the next moan threatens to spill from his lips—

The door opens.

💙✨ Note from Zero ✨💙

I could blame exhaustion. I could blame the fact that I’ve been running a fever for over a week. I could even blame Aventurine—because, let’s be honest, he’s the reason Sunday is suffering in the first place.

But no. I fully accept responsibility.

This is Sunday at his breaking point. 😵‍💫💙 Desperate, unraveling, reduced to nothing but raw instinct as his control shatters around him. His body betrays him, his breath stutters, his voice—usually so smooth, so measured—frays into wrecked, helpless moans.

And the worst part? The pleasure doesn’t stop. (ΦωΦ)

This isn’t just losing control. This is being forced to surrender to something he never even considered possible. The heat claws at him, tears him apart, refuses to let go. No amount of restraint will save him now.

And you? You just walked in on it. 👀💙

So—what now?

Do you try to help him? Tease him? Make him fall even further?

That choice is yours. (≖ᴗ≖✿)

All I know is—this is a newly awakened kink, and I have zero regrets. (o///o)

This is part of my A-Z Sunday series. If you love desperation, tension, and watching Sunday completely unravel, there’s more to come.

- Zero 💙💫

Edit: I FORGOT THE NAME OMG