hello!! i love your work and everything you do 🙏 thank you for taking the time out of your day to write for us 🤍
i wanted to request a romance fanfic with corazon x female reader 🤍 he’s such a sweet and gentle man. i wish there were fanfics with him 😔you shall write anything your heart desires 😌!! if it shall be a fantasy story, being on a side mission when he was a marine, slow burn, true love, sneaking behind doflamingo to be together, the sky’s the limit 😊
thank you so much for reading this and keep doing amazing things 🤍
Corazon/Donquixote Rosinante x Reader
Oh, how I loved this ask!!! I loved this man so much, you would not believe it. Before Crocodile was Rosi (Yeah, the difference is wild). PLEASE REQUEST ME MORE!! HOPE YOU ENJOY ANON!!! (I google translated so if you don't get the meaning/it is incorrect I really do apologize, it's supposed to be understood/ read as: Rosi, you are my Heart)
There were times, in Corazon's heart when he wished he wasn't doing his mission and everything was normal and happy. Very rarely did this moment come, but when he met her? Seas, did they come.
Confession.
Since you met and your relationship grew, that meant that eventually, you both fell in love. Now, here comes the issue. Rosinanate was the kind of guy who, if he fell in love, fell hard. The type who would see the person they love and see roses and cherubs around them—literally.
Now given that he couldn't speak in front of you, he was screaming internally at his decision and the situation which caused him to be in said situation. But he did have a choice he realised. A choice from which he could easily just talk and let his secret out. Could he? Would he? He shook his head. No. He wouldn't. The mission took some priority after all. He'd just have to say it in a new way since writing it was ridiculous in his eyes.
So he spoke with his heart. When the day came and both of you were in a library, he nudged your knee against his. And you looked up at him, and when you did you saw the softest, most love-struck look in his eyes and you actually paused. He took your hand, in his (it was so much smaller, much more softer, much more unscarred, so perfect in his eyes) and with his free hand spelled out his words, when you gasped and grinned, repeating the words back to him in speech, stood up so suddenly in the joy he ended up falling backward in a pile of books, while you yelped and tried to help him up, only to laugh as he lay there, the most dooziest grin on his face ever.|
First date.
Showing to the rest of the city that he was clearly on a date with someone? Bad idea. Especially when his brother could clearly find out thanks to the rest of the family members? Even worse. That meant he needed to take you somewhere quiet. Somewhere private. Thankfully, you came up with the best idea. Your place.
When he came in, he immediately hit his head on the door frame, causing you to try to rush forward, and crash land on him, your faces inches away from each other. By the seas, he couldn't see a better view. Later when you were cradling his face, checking to see if he had a bump on his head, he almost went into a coma. His heart was beating so hard and so fast, you were sure to hear it.
When you two were eating and having a great time, he wished this was the norm. He could feel his heart ache as you and he washed and put the dishes away. A home, somewhere far away, somewhere peaceful, somewhere for the two of you. Where he could wake up with you in his arms, hear your laughter every day, and bathe in the beauty of your smile. Hold you and dance when you are wearing the prettiest dress.
First Kiss.
This was becoming a norm between the two of you, where you could find him already in your house, sleeping oh so peacefully, or waiting for you to come home. He loved your house. He loved you. But sometimes, the missions he came back from helped in the accumulation of his scars and wounds. Making you worry or fret slightly as you saw the hurt. One time he had come with a couple of cuts after accidentally landing on some jagged rocks. As he sat, nursing a glass of cool, lemonade you had made for him, he waited for you.
As usual when you saw him, you beamed at him, running and giving him a hug.
"Hey baby! How was your mission? I- You're hurt!" You cried, seeing him wince.
He tried to wave you off. No, he was fine. Really. But you frowned and cupped his cheeks. "Where." You demanded.
He sighed, taking your hands off his face, and took his shirt off, a medical patch already there, and needing to be changed.
You clicked your tongue and left, coming back with a kit. Already starting to redress the wound. At one point, he carefully cupped your cheek with one hand, causing you to pause, you asked. His thumb tapped your lips and your eyebrows rose before you nodded slowly. And so, he kissed you. That kiss broke quickly, but one look exchanged and it continued with a passion. Both of you ended up panting slightly, your hands cupping his cheeks and him having pulled you on top of his lap so that you were straddling it, the pair of you were grinning like idiots.
Oh, how he wished this was every day. Where he could do it out in the open, where he could love you freely. How he wished. He would buy you anything, do anything, buy you jewelry, makeup, dresses, anything for you to look like the angel he thought of you as.
First (and last) argument.
You were in tears. He had come, telling you he couldn't be in a relationship with you, and seas, you were breaking his heart even more than he was doing it to himself. Why couldn't you understand that he wanted this more to himself than anything? Why was his blasted life like this?!
He paused, and took your hands in his, you sniffled, looking at him. Leaving one hand free, he snapped it. "Silent" He spoke.
Your mouth dropped open, eyes wide in shock. On any other day, he would have laughed or grinned. Today, he was sorrowfully smiling. "My dear, my precious, my angel" He whispered, hands now holding yours. He told you the truth, every ounce of it, and with that, you sobbed. You sobbed for him. With that he cradled your head to his chest, shushing you. "Don't cry, mi amour. Don't cry, you're breaking my heart further." He murmured.
Eventually, both of you were curled up in your too-small bed with him holding you close, his long and lanky figure curled around you. He stroked your hair as he pressed kisses to your head. You looked up at him, gorgeous eyes puffy from earlier tears. You whispered "Rosinante, eres mi Corazon".
His breath hitched, and his hand snaked around to your nape as he kissed you furiously, as if making you understand his own anger and frustration at his situation.
When you woke up, he would have left you a note, and the lipstick he usually hid behind. Even if he couldn't come back, at least some part of him was with you always. He would leave with Law, dreaming of a future where you two were married, his lovely, perfect wife.
(Later on, as he lay in the snow, he would hallucinate a life where you and Law were laughing, almost as mother and son, in a perfect world, and in a perfect life.)
Changed ending, changed paths.
He walked, slightly unsteady. After that battle, he had been patched up by some locals who had found him. Sending a letter of resignation to Sengoku, and wishing him well, along with thanking him for all he ever did for him, he stayed for 2 years, recuperating. He bore a disguise as he walked to your place. Sneaking inside like usual, he froze as he saw you fast asleep on the couch, his lipstick from the one disguise he used to have on your lips. He moved to try and come closer, only to slip and fall face forward, causing you to snap awake. "Who-who's there?!" You cried, holding a crumpled newspaper as a makeshift defense.
He looked up and gave you a sheepish grin, disguise having fallen off as well. You recognized him instantly, causing you to gasp and run to him, hugging him tight. He curled his arms around you too, holding you as close as possible. He was home. And this time, he would be free, for you were his darling, his love, his Queen.
