down with the sickness: cioccolata x fem! reader x secco
minors dni!
a/n: this isn't a request, but honestly i couldn't wait to post it. i started this piece at the laundromat in my notes app and finished it over a cocktail last night. anyways... enjoy, haha! (there may or may not be a part two to this, but i haven't decided.)
summary: visiting passione's doctor comes with some interesting consequences.
warnings: kind of dark content, pain kink, groping, medical play (?), blood & injuries, violence, probably incorrect medical terms & usage, typical creepiness from cioccolata & secco
word count: ~1.6k
“Someone was being reckless, I see.”
His words hang in the air alongside the stench of antiseptics. It was cold and clinical, much like a hospital was. But you didn’t get the luxury of going to a hospital. No, that would draw too many questions.
It was Tizzano and Squalo that suggested you come here, though it’s not like you had a choice. The bullet wound in your shoulder was deep, having torn through muscle and skin alike when the gun pointed at you ultimately fired. And while you had managed to stop most of the bleeding, it seemed wise to seek some kind of medical assistance.
If that’s what you could even call this.
Your legs dangle off the edge of the exam table table you’re seated on as Cioccolata circles you. He’s slow and deliberate with those aqua orbs never leaving you. Your lips part to respond, but the door swings open before you can utter the words.
Secco enters the mock operation room, pushing along a creaking medical cart. Your eyes instinctively flicker down towards the instruments as the light catches the metal tools lined up beside each other with a glint. There were forceps, scissors, and scalpels along with various other medical supplies that would no doubt be used in your treatment today.
Secco was watching you if not more intensely than Cioccolata was, fingers twitching against the cart before he slowed to a stop beside his master.
“Very good, Secco,” the green-haired man hums and turns away only briefly for his eyes to trail over the tools. He then turns back to you, hands clasping near his face with a wide grin tugging at the corners of his painted lips.
“Shall we begin?”
Secco moves wordlessly at Cioccolata’s side, fingers wrapping around something on the cart. It’s not until he raises the item to his face that you see what it is: a camera. The lens is pointed at your face with one of Secco’s purple orbs being hidden behind the camera while the other remains fixated on you.
Cioccolata must feel you stiffen at the sight of the camera because he directs that sickeningly sweet grin over at you now before it’s being hidden behind a mask.
“Don’t worry,” he chirps a little too cheerfully as he slides a pair of gloves onto his hands, the blue offering a stark comparison against his pale skin.
“It’s for a personal project of mine. You understand, don’t you?”
The man hums when you breathe out a ‘yeah’ in response, gaze lingering on a crack in the bare, concrete walls as Cioccolata steps closer.
“This, however, is going to have to go.”
You look down at where he gestures to your blood-stained shirt, not being able to help the heat that crawls across your cheeks.
“I’d rather not,” you speak softly, yet there’s a firmness in your voice as you shift in your spot on the table. Cioccolata watches you all the while, face no doubt still housing that grin like he knows something that you don’t. And the way Secco keeps the camera in his hands pointed on you has even more heat flooding your face.
“You want me to do my job effectively, don’t you?”
You suck in a breath and try to ignore the way your heart flutters wildly in your chest, a low sigh falling from your lips with your fingers hooking in the hem of your shirt. It’s then pulled over your head and dropped to the floor, the material crumpling in a damp pile.
Cioccolata’s eyes rake over your figure before he takes a step closer. You don’t flinch nor do you even move when Secco too moves closer out of the corner of your eye. The man in front of you hums and reaches out a gloved hand to you, and the breath hitches in your throat when his fingertips brush against your collarbone.
“This too.”
Two fingers pluck at your bra strap, giving a tug that has the strap snapping against your skin when it’s released. You finally reach behind yourself, fingers fiddling with the clasp of your bra until it comes undone.
It falls to the ground, and your nipples stiffen in the cool air. Cioccolata’s eyes drift lower, drinking in the sight of your bare torso before he’s ushering for you to lay back against the table. Goosebumps flood across your skin when your back meets the cold metal.
“Now we can begin.”
The bright, overhead lights sting your eyes as you squint up at him, eyes tracking his movements when he steps toward the cart. Secco remains silent, but he’s moved even closer with the lens of the camera now directed towards the bloody bullet wound at your shoulder. Cioccolata returns in your line of sight with a pair of forceps between his gloved fingers.
“There appears to be fragments remaining in the wound,” he says lowly, and you briefly wonder if he’s talking to the camera or you.
“They need to be removed for it to properly heal.”
The camera whirs as Secco zooms in when Cioccolata inches closer with the forceps, the instrument hovering dangerously close to the opening. It’s then that you realize that there’s no anesthetic, nor have you taken anything for the pain that’s been shooting through your arm ever since the bullet pierced your shoulder. Aqua eyes flicker towards your face and as if he can read your mind, he’s speaking up.
“I’m afraid that anesthesia isn’t an option.”
The camera is pointed back to your face, zooming in further as if drinking in every reaction.
“You don’t even need it for such a procedure as this.”
You had a sneaking suspicion that he was lying to you, especially when the forceps slipped into the hole in your shoulder. A sharp surge of pain shoots through your arm at the intrusion, and your eyes scrunch closed in response. You swear that you can feel every movement, every nudge of the metal prongs against the exposed tissue and muscle as it digs further in. You bite your bottom lip, and a familiar metallic tang settles on your tongue.
You don’t dare utter a sound, not even a peep under their watchful gazes. A small clink has your eyelids fluttering open, gaze finding the piece of shrapnel that now sits in the bowl at your side. You instinctively try to sit up, but a gloved hand presses against your injured shoulder - palm brushing directly over the skin.
That causes you to wince with a cry of pain falling from your parted lips when you’re pressed against the cold surface again. You suck in a breath through clenched teeth, yet the pressure doesn’t move. Cioccolata’s hand remains there, and he finally pulls it away after a long moment despite how his fingers still dance along the skin with a forefinger tracing the edges of the wound.
You shudder at that, breasts rising and falling with a labored breath as your half-lidded orbs meet Cioccolata’s. There’s a hungry look in his eyes as he leans in again with the forceps.
“We’re not done yet,” he breathes out with a low chuckle and leans in closer to you as the camera is in your face again. The forceps are forced back into the wound and this time, you let out a strangled groan in response.
Secco lets out a muffled giggle, almost as if he can’t contain his excitement when Ciocclata digs another fragment out of your shoulder.
Your head is spinning now, ears ringing loudly as you swear that you can feel your heart leap into your throat. There’s another clink with yet another piece landing in the bowl. Cioccolata’s other hand dances along your ribs, nitrile fingers dragging upward. Slowly and surely, as if he were counting every single one that lay hidden beneath your flesh.
He’s watching you.
They’re both watching you with eyes that devour every flinch and reaction with the camera being only a testament to your treatment. A jolt wracks your limbs when Cioccolata cups one of your breasts, yet you refuse to open your eyes.
“Pain and pleasure…”
He’s speaking again, but the words just barely reach your ears when he harshly presses on the bullet wound again. You gasp, eyes flying open as you try to pull away from the table and the pain.
But that only makes Cioccolata press harder. His other hand remains at your breast, now stroking and circling your nipple while the other hand continues to apply more pressure to your shoulder. It’s dizzying. The sensation of the burning throughout your arm that sets your nerves alight, but there was also the stimulation at your breasts as he palms and kneads the fatty tissue.
Secco takes a breath, and the purple orb that’s not behind the camera moves wildly across your form.
“They often meld together, yes?”
His eyes flicker towards your face before he pulls away all together. The attention is on the cart now as he fiddles with something icy suddenly being placed just above your breast. It’s a stethoscope, you realize dimly - still reeling from his ministrations.
Cioccolata lets out a pleased hum at the sound of your racing heart filling his ears before pulling the equipment away.
“Just like they are now,” he concludes while peeling the gloves from his hands. You find yourself releasing the breath you were holding as Secco takes a step backwards alongside Cioccolata, but the camera is still filming your trembling body.
“It will heal. Simply wash it daily.”
You slowly sit up even despite that pain in your shoulder, and you swear that you can still feel Cioccolata’s touch lingering on your body. The camera is returned to the cart as Secco begins to push it out of the room, but there’s a final glance thrown your way over Cioccolata’s shoulder. He tugs his mask down, grinning wolfishly all the while.
ghia is passionate about language and its correctness , secco has a stutter and prefers to make noise or be nonverbal
both use their stand to travel quickly and can trap people in it
both have a freaky partner . cio likes death and was an actual doctor in a way , melone likes life and is into pseudoscience .
they had opposite reactions to their partners death . secco thinks cio was weak for losing and hates him for it , ghia is genuinely upset at melones death
This is a weird ass ask but like i cant stop thinking abt it... IF cio and sec were to even consider having a child who would- yk- whos knocking darling up??💀💀💀im asking this bcs ik damn well cio not spending his time doing tht, and or hed rather make secco..?? But im confused unless its like, a artifical- turkey baster type thing IDK I WANNA KNO 🤷🏿♀️
Tw: 18+ minors dni, afab reader, non-con,
You mean to tell me you can’t imagine Cioccolata fucking his darling? The man keeps a human on a leash in public, treating him like his loyal puppy not caring who’s around. You really can’t see that man strapping you to the operation table, fucking you roughly until he cums at least four times? Secco standing on the side recording each session like the good boy he is?
Regardless of if he wants a child or not, Cioccolata definitely puts his darling to work. Whether they’re sucking him off as he looks through his messages from the boss or riding Secco until he’s had enough. They brought you here for their pleasure, remember?
He has his fun torturing you whenever you act out and he loves to see how squeamish you become as you’re forced to help him hurt people. That is true, but you’re even more fun when he tells you that you have to make him cum before time runs out. Frantically bouncing on his thick cock trying to get the man off before he hurts you. It doesn't help that Cioccolata is staring at you with that creepy grin of his, not showing any signs of coming undone.
Anon are you sure you can’t see either one of them fucking darling?
Note: But I do think Secco would end up getting you pregnant since you’re with him more than Cioccolata. Lord knows there's a lot Secco wants to do while he’s got you to himself.
