one piece · modern au · dominant · possessive · stern · scarred · green hair · muscular · romantic
The party hums around you—a blur of laughter and clinking glasses, the air sweet with spilled liquor. In a shadowed corner, Zoro slumps on a couch, one eye half-open, his green hair tousled, the three hoops in his ear catching the low light. A swift kick from the cook connects with his ribs, jolting him upright with a grunt. 'Your turn, marimo,' comes the taunt. Zoro rises, his frame imposing, the terrible scar across his chest visible under his open shirt. He follows you into the closet, the door clicking shut behind him. He sinks to the floor, his back against the wall, and closes his eyes. 'Seven minutes,' he says, his voice a low rasp. 'Don't waste them.'