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#「 ( sanji ; ic ) 」
melonteee · 8 months
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Ladies and gentlemen.
This fucked.
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artemis-mara · 2 months
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A moot over on Twitter pointed out Zoro looked like a Christmas tree-
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shima-draws · 5 months
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IG algorithm has caught onto the fact that I’m watching One Piece anyway look at this reel I found of fuckign. One Piece on ICE??? I’d give anything to see this actually
Also I love Luffy skating over to grab Zoro. And Zoro and Sanji doing that face off forehead thing while they skate in circles. And Luffy throwing his arms around both their shoulders and skating off with them and doing a cute little run and
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huanghying · 9 months
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Modern AU where Zoro is the barista and gets tortured by customer service
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draptoryx · 7 months
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figure skater sanji stays in my head 24/7
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ollieartie · 11 days
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@sanusoweek let's GOOOOOO!!!
Day 1: Ice Skating
I'm a big fan of late-night outdoor skating with that iconic hot chocolate break between laps. <3
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mmukagen · 3 months
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asliceofzosan · 4 months
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i've seen figure skater sanji and hockey player zoro before. idk if its been explored but i'd love to put it out there:
hockey player sanji (specifically goalie bc he desperately wants to avoid being checked) and then pairs skater zoro.
pairs skater zoro's long time partner has been nami. though many people ship them together a Lot, they just know each other super well. Well enough to try dating and both of them realized they don't swing that way. in fact, it makes them a really good team. they fought long and hard to claim top spots in competitions because they portray a chemistry that's separate from the rest. plus zoro can carry nami like she weighs fucking nothing. so their lifts are so much more dynamic. they even have a whole next to impossible combination that they're trying to get the ISU to name after them officially.
sanji plays for the East Blue Straw Hats in the Grand Line Hockey League – a formidable rookie group that took down lots of big names in the preseason. they want to make it all the way to the postseason playoff finals but always seem to fall short. but theyre so determined. they reignited a lot of old sparks that were no longer there for old fans and brought in new and curious fans. sanji is the starter goalie and a damn good one at that. it makes sense bc goalies are often doing splits on the ice just to make a save. he's perfected the technique that utilizes just his legs to make saves that make the crowd go fuckin insane.
we have the usual "i booked the rink to practice before you did" trope but a little more spice. in actuality, sanji loves watching pairs skating competitions. his favorite pair rn is franky and robin (mostly for robin). and he adamantly does not want to admit to anyone that he watches zoro and nami's routines much more frequently. (and if anyone asks, he always says its bc of nami. its never just bc of nami.) and zoro's besties with luffy so he always watches their matches even if he barely understands the rules. and he definitely does not stare at a certain blond starter goalie most of the match thats fucking ridiculous
one day zoro and sanji are invited to do one of those comparison videos between hockey players and figure skaters. both get to laugh at the other even Attempting to do their sport. zoro frankly looks ridiculous in all of sanji's usual goalie get-up. and sanji couldn't land an euler to save his life. the video producer suggests they try a simple pairs skating routine. sanji is like "oh i couldn't do that–hEY WHAT THE FUCK MOSSHEAD PUT ME DOWN" because zoro lifted sanji and had him sat on his shoulder like it was normal.
zoro smirks, "you might be lighter than nami, actually. wanna be my new partner?"
sanji knees him in the stomach before skating away while blushing so hard he could melt the ice beneath him.
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sandreeen · 8 months
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Koshiro Shimada as Sanji || One Piece on Ice 2023 Open Rehearsals
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thus-spoke-lo · 1 year
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Dear Diary || Sanji x f!reader || NSFW [minors DNI]
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CW: afab!reader (no pronouns used to describe reader), reader wears a skirt, masturbation (m), vaginal fingering, vaginal sex, creampie
WC: 3.6k
Read on AO3
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It was an accident. 
Or at the very least, that’s the story Sanji had hastily prepared as he sat perched on the edge of your bed, your diary held tightly in his grasp. 
It was an accident, he’d say if anyone wandered in while he perused its pages—it had fallen on the floor and he was merely trying to find out who it belonged to, that’s why it was splayed open in his hand. Really, you see, it was completely innocent. 
But Sanji already knew it was yours, having seen you with it on the deck, ardently scribbling away day after day. He could never quite get close enough or squint hard enough to see exactly what you were writing, but you certainly seemed alarmed when you’d catch him meandering by, quickly shutting the little blue book and squirreling it away in your knapsack before he could ever get near. 
And now here it was in his perspiration-slick hands. He wondered what he’d find, if it was even worth it to sneak into your room, carefully closing the door behind him, just to get a glimpse at the thoughts that pirouetted through your gorgeous mind. 
He closed his eyes and inhaled deeply before cracking open the little blue book, quickly looking over the pages for any mention of him: A recipe for medical ointment and a quick story about helping Chopper with a project. A sloppily-drawn chart and notes about a conversation with Nami. Musings on something Luffy said at dinner. 
“Maybe this was a bad idea,” he muttered as he flipped through more pages, seeing line after line of casual observations and droll anecdotes. He was, of course, deeply and truly interested in your reflections on life with the crew, and would delightedly read just about anything you had written with your precious hands, but he didn’t have the time to peruse every paragraph. He was unsure of precisely when you’d be back with the rest of the crew, and his only goal was to find even the smallest talk of him in your handwriting—it would be enough just to see his name scrawled in these pages, enough to see that you even deigned to give him any mention at all. 
He scanned page after page until finally—there it was. His name, in your writing. 
He paused before he continued, taking in a shaky breath, wondering if he should read on, fearing the worst but his heart yearning for the best. 
Sanji, you’d written, Sanji, Sanji, Sanji. Sat in the galley to watch him cook today. He didn’t seem to mind me there, and he was humming some song I didn’t know. He let me taste the soup he was making, and told me I was perfect because of my “refined palate.” What a man, haha. 
He grinned as he continued to read: 
I'm glad he doesn’t mind me hanging around him, I could watch him for hours. His hands are so elegant.
I know it’s terrible, but sometimes I wonder what those hands would feel like on me.
Sanji stopped, using his thumb to hold his place as he set the diary down in his lap, his heart thrumming in his chest. He shouldn’t keep reading, he tried to tell himself—he got what he wanted, confirmation that he at least occasionally swirled around in your mind like a ship caught in a whirlpool, and that should be the end of it.
Right?
“Okay. Just a little more,” he uttered as he opened the book again, his eyes drifting back to where he’d left off. “A little more won’t hurt.”
God I bet his hands are so soft. I bet they’d feel so nice on my skin. Running down my arms. Tickling my neck. He’d know just how to hold me, touch me carefully, so he doesn’t hurt me, just make me feel good.
“Fuck,” he said under his breath as he flipped the page to the next entry. More about him.
Sanji made me tea today and brought it to me in my room. Ugh, he’s so fucking handsome. Hard not to tell him to set the tea down and give me something else hot. I bet he would, too. I bet all I’d have to do is ask and he’d have me bent over my bed, moaning his name. 
He slid his hand down to the front of his pants, palming the growing hardness that strained against the fabric. God he wanted you, and there was a painful desire roiling inside him knowing you wanted him too. And you were right, he thought as he throbbed under his hand—all it would take is one look, one pout, one soft “Please, Sanji?” and he would have you undressed in a heartbeat, writhing under him as he filled you to the hilt with every throbbing inch of him.
His hands, his hands, I’m telling you. I want him to finger me so bad. Maybe under the table while we’re having dinner. Just slide his hand up my skirt, push my panties to the side, start teasing my clit. Maybe he’d whisper in my ear that I’d need to keep quiet so no one would know. I’d just have to wriggle in my seat while he uses his fingers to tease me, and grip his leg to keep myself from screaming. 
“This is wrong,” he whispered, the words hitching in his throat. “This is so wrong.”
It was as if you could read his mind, he thought as he closed his eyes for a moment, grinding into his palm. How many times had he thought about placing a hand on your leg as you sat next to him at dinner, running his fingers up and up and up your velvety skin to the apex of your thighs, placing his palm against your heated cunt. He wanted to tease you through your panties, press his fingers against your clit through the silken fabric, making soft circles over it until you started to squirm in your chair and quietly beg him to stop. But begging, no matter how sweet and polite, would do you no good; no, if you loved his hands so much, then he was going to make you come on them. You’d have to sit there and be good and still and smile and laugh like nothing was wrong while he shoved his long fingers inside of you and pumped them in and out until you clenched and fluttered around them, leaving him a drenched and slippery mess. He wondered how flustered you’d become as he dragged his soaked fingers out of you and across your bare thigh, wondered if you’d look at him with your exquisite eyes, blinking away the tears of pleasure forming at your lash line, as you tried to keep yourself from falling apart in front of everyone.
He paused for a moment, listening closely for any commotion on the ship; there was only the sound of blood rushing in his ears. He quickly unbuckled his belt and unzipped his pants, freeing his hardening cock and sighing as he felt the cool air of your room on his burning hot skin. He gripped himself gently, delicately—like he imagined you might with your soft, perfect hands—as he continued to read. 
I just need him. I need his cock in me. I’m sure he’d fuck me, but really want him to want to fuck me, you know? Not just because I’m another pretty face. I want him to want to fuck me, to need to fuck me. 
Sanji groaned as he read, his hand slowly working up and down his shaft, using his thumb to gather the sticky precum dripping from the head as he did, pretending it was your luscious slick coating the length of him. Oh and how he did want to fuck you, and he did need to fuck you. Not because you were just any lovely thing with a gorgeous face—he wanted you, every last bit of you. He wanted to taste the salt of your skin, and inhale your intoxicating scent, and feel every part of you crash into him like waves; he wanted to consume you, to have every part of you to himself, to wrap himself around you and bury himself inside of you until you were practically one.
I want him to shove his cock in me, and tell me what a perfect little slut I am for him and only him. I want him to kiss my neck while he’s thrusting into me, long and slow strokes, and tell me how beautiful I am with his cock deep inside me. I want him to lose control of himself and feel him slam into me nice and hard, and hear how he moans when he finally fills me up wi—
“Sanji!”
He quickly slammed the diary shut and threw his hands over his lap, trying to cover the glaring evidence of his arousal; he glanced up to see you standing in the doorway, mouth agape, eyebrows raised to the heavens. 
“What the hell do you think you're doing?” you asked, eyes wide, your eyes drifting down to his lap. 
“Oh, I was—well you see—so here’s the thing my dear—” Sanji stammered and stuttered, his perfectly crafted excuse slowly unraveling in his mind like an old sweater as you placed your hands on your hips—your luscious, grabbable hips, perfectly draped in a black skirt—and dragged your teeth across your lower lip impatiently. How is it that you could look so deeply and fiercely irresistible even when you clearly wanted to throttle him? How is it that his cock still throbbed even when you were probably ten seconds away from killing him where he sat?
You quickly closed the gap between you and stood before him and the end of the bed. 
“Give me that,” you spat as you snatched your diary out of his hand. “What were you doing with this?”
“My darling, please, I only wanted to—well I just—”
“You just what?”
He tried to find an answer for you, one that might make him appear even the least bit less debased and depraved than he must have seemed to you just then, but he was coming up woefully short.
“I just wanted to know,” he finally sputtered after a beat. 
“And what did you want to know, Sanji?” you asked, drawing out his name teasingly. 
He shifted, trying ever more desperately to hide his unyielding hardness from your gaze. “I just wanted to know if you ever thought about me.”
“How so?” you smirked. 
He swallowed hard, his mouth dry, the words sticking together in his throat as he tried to say them. “I wanted to know if you ever thought about me and you. Together.”
“Together?”
“My sweet, please don’t make me say it.”
“Aw come on,” you pouted. “Please?”
“I wanted to know if you ever thought about fucking me!” he exclaimed, his eyes clenched shut as the words burst forth from his lips. “There. Are you happy?”
“Oh Sanji,” you sighed, tilting your head to one side. You leaned forward and placed a hand on his chest, pushing him back onto the bed. He let his hands drift away from his pulsating cock, and you gasped a little at the sight of it, the head swollen and glistening with his arousal. You smiled and bit your lip as you straddled him, carefully placing your soft thighs on either side of his, too needy to bother even asking him to disrobe; Sanji felt his heart nearly crawl into his throat as he could feel the radiating warmth of your cunt, covered only in thin cotton panties, come to rest against his twitching cock. 
He choked out a gasp as you slowly started to grind against him, and he could feel the outline of your pussy lips through the soft fabric that barely covered them. You lowered your body onto him, your face hovering close to his, and moaned softly in his ear as you urgently pressed yourself into his lap; the sound you made, so melodic, so filled with yearning, made Sanji buck his hips up into you almost on instinct. He reached up and sunk his fingers into your plush hips, guiding your motions up and down his length, as he felt the precum that leaked out of his pulsing head start to coat your inner thigh. 
“Sanji, Sanji, Sanji,” you murmured, your lips so close to his he could almost taste your lusciousness. “If you wanted to know all the things I think about you—all the filthy, dirty things I think about when I lay in bed at night—why didn’t you just ask?”
Before he could answer, before words could even take form inside the lust-filled fog in his mind, your lips were engulfing his in a warm, honeyed kiss. He moaned into your mouth and parted your lips with his tongue, hungry and wanting to taste every bit of your deliciousness; it was better than he’d ever imagined, better than he could have dreamed, to have your pillowy lips against his, your tongues dancing. As he fed from the sweetness of your mouth, you reached down and pulled your panties to the side. You grasped his cock and dragged the head along the slickness of your pussy lips, as he groaned your name into the stillness of the room.
“Do you want me, Sanji?” you asked as you slid him past your lips, letting him feel your entrance pulse against his agonizingly sensitive tip, keeping the warmth of your wet walls just out of reach until he told you what you so badly need to hear.
“Yes, god yes, my sweet,” he answered frantically, his fingers grasping at your hips, trying to pull you down onto him, as he buried his face on your neck, his tongue tracing lines up and down your skin, his lips trying to kiss every inch of you that he could reach.
“How bad?” you continued, as you squeezed his cock, feeling it swell in your palm.
“I want you so much,” he whimpered, as his hips thrusted weakly upwards into your hand, so agonizingly close to being inside of you that he could practically feel your warmth surrounding his aching cock.  “I want all of you, every last beautiful bit of you. Now won’t you let me feel you, please?”
“Lay back,” you whispered, a drowsy smile on your lips, as you ran your fingertips down the sharp lines of his jaw. He reclined back onto the bed, and watched your eyes flutter shut and your mouth go slack as you lowered yourself onto him, and took his length into your waiting cunt.
Sanji gasped deliriously at the feeling, and the sounds of his bliss echoed in the room. You were better than he ever could have thought you’d be, better than he’d ever fantasized at night when he’d fuck his fist and wish so desperately it was you. Your velvet-soft pussy gripped him as you gyrated in soft, slow circles, and he slowly thrust up into you, matching your motions. He felt a deliriousness wash over him as he listened to you sigh his name over and over again, like a song he wanted to listen to forever, and he relished the weight of your body pressing into him as you placed your hands on his chest and took your pleasure from him.
“You’re so beautiful like this,” he marveled, as his hands drifted upwards from your hips, exploring the expanse of your form.
“What, with your cock inside me?” you smiled.
“Exactly,” he grinned, his fingers tracing over every dip and curve of your body.
He reached under your shirt and caressed the contours of your breasts, gently kneading them in his palms. He brushed a thumb over your hardened nipple, and felt your pussy flutter around him as you whimpered in the most delectable way.
“Sanji,” you whispered as you rode him, your voice soft and wanting, “will you touch me? Make me come?”
“Yes, my darling,” he panted, running a hand down your body and slowly sliding it down your thigh. “Anything you want, anything you need.”
He pulled the dampened fabric of your panties to the side, spreading your puffy lips apart with his fingers, and found your swollen, tender clit with little effort. He tentatively pressed against it with the pad of his thumb and a needy moan escaped you; he made gentle circles over it, trying to match the speed of your gyrations.
“Like this, my dear?” he asked, his gaze fixed on you, watching every glorious expression you made as he set your core ablaze with his touch.
“Yes,” you answered through ragged gasps, “just like that. Just like that.”
“Good,” he panted as your breaths quickened and your motions began to slow as you focused on his ministrations. “That’s it, sweetheart, take what you need from me.”
He felt himself harder than he’d ever been, aching so much inside of you, as he started to feel you flutter around him.
“Sanji, I’m so close,” you keened. “Just don’t stop, please don’t stop.”
“Never, my dearest,” he said, desperate. “Not until you come for me.”
“Oh Sanji,” you cried, your eyes clenching shut, “Sanji I’m gonna—”
Your words were cut short by a sharp cry as you clenched tightly around him, your walls spasming as you cried out for him, your shaking thighs pressed tightly to his and your hands gripping frantically at his shirt. He was stricken wordless by the splendor of seeing you abandon yourself to pleasure, watching you convulse unabashedly and utter some of the most exquisite moans he had ever heard.
“Why don’t you let me do the rest of the work, gorgeous?” he uttered softly, as you doubled over and rested your head on his chest, your breaths emerging in stutters and gasps.
You nodded, only able to muster a weak “Mm-hmm,” and he gathered you up and helped you lay back onto the bed. He stood up, quickly undressing, overcome with an insatiable need to bury himself inside you again as quickly as possible. As he lowered his trousers, he noticed the fly and waistband of them were drenched, your juices coating the stiff fabric; he felt his heart skip a beat at knowing he made you do that, that he made you come apart for him and soak his clothes in your wetness.
He stood at the end of the bed as he stripped his shirt off, and took in the sight before him: your body splayed across the bed, panties discarded to the side. Your shirt pulled up over your breasts and your skirt still clinging to your figure, pushed up over your hips. Your legs spread apart and your pussy exposed with your swollen, sensitive lips coated in your glistening slick.
“Are you read for more, my darling?” he asked, barely waiting for your whispered answer before plunging himself inside you, feeling your copious slick coating his length as your walls quivered around him, aftershocks of your orgasm still rippling through you.
Sanji had wanted to take his time—wanted to make passionate love to you like someone as magnificent as you deserved, not just fuck you—but the way you clenched around him, the way you sighed so dreamily and so beautifully for him and only him—it was all but impossible to hold back.
He felt your legs wrapping around his muscled back, pulling him into you, as he thrust, driving him deeper into you.
“You’re so perfect,” he murmured, his lips against your ear, “so beautiful. This is heaven.”
You moved together simultaneously, your hips lifting upward to his thrusting body, and you whimpered as his cock pulsed inside your needy cunt. You rocked against each other, bodies arching and colliding in perfect rhythm, his lithe frame almost elegantly hypnotic in his motions. He gazed down at you with adoration, watching your lips part to gasp with every stroke, and he found himself edging ever closer to his own release.
“Sanji,” you asked, your eyes glazed over and half-lidded, lips barely parted. “Will you cum in me?”
“Yeah? Want me to fill up that pretty pussy, baby?”
“Please, Sanji?”
“Anything for you,” he sighed. The sweetness of your voice, the way you said his name, was like a drug; it was all he needed, all he ever wanted to hear.
His pace quickened, his thrusts becoming more erratic and frenzied, the feeling of your warmth wrapped around him becoming more and more euphoric with every stroke. At last, he groaned your name in blissful agony as his hips stuttered and he spilled himself into you, your greedy cunt pulling spasm after spasm from him, until he collapsed on top of you in exhausted bliss, your mingled juices slowly dripping out of you.
“Oh my darling, that was amazing,” he said through staccato breaths, his face buried in your neck, as he tried to regain his composure. “I don’t know how you’re even more perfect than in my dreams, but you are.”
“Was it everything you hoped for?” you asked, smiling as you ran your fingers through his damp mess of blonde hair.
“My sweet, you were spectacular,” he sighed, as he stroked your cheek gently with the pad of his thumb and planted a tender kiss on your forehead.
“Oh Sanji, you were incredible,” you grinned, tracing your fingers along the sinewy contours of his upper arms, before adding in a teasing whisper: “Can’t wait to tell my diary all about it.”
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inkprovised · 9 days
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Figure Skating / Ice Hockey AU
Because I can
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struwberrie · 3 months
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lusan ice hockey au baby,
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artemis-mara · 2 months
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Part 4 of “Accidental Partnership”
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shima-draws · 3 months
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Did anybody ask for more One Piece on Ice? No? Too bad you’re getting more
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tazskylardaily · 6 months
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Sanji meets Sanji! A few days ago, the cast of One Piece Netflix met the one of One Piece On Ice in Japan.
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turntechgaykid · 1 month
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I live in fear of posts where Law is with the Strawhats, It's all fun and games until people start adding surprise Lawlu
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