I write one shots when I'm bored 😪
these one shots contains pretty triggering stuff but I'll add the warnings if needed 👀
Please enjooooy😽😽😽
#1 risottonero ♥️🙏
#8 Diobrando
#8 josukexreader
#7 yoshikagekira
Cioccolata having a crush on you, who happens to also be a doctor.
Additional Warnings: Fewer than you'd think given who we're dealing with! Needles and inappropriate use of adenosine. Mention/threat of gore.
Also a little note: while your name is Y/N, Cioccolata calls you Amaretto! Also Cioccolata's last name here is Torte.
other than that, enjoy!
3,182 words!
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Those who become doctors do so for one of two reasons: the love of life, or the love of power.
When you graduated medical school and took your first steps on the path to becoming a surgeon, you were certain that you would be surrounded by peers like yourself, peers who respected life and worked to save it when they could and protect its dignity when they couldn't. What other reason was there to attend all those torturous years of studying and sleepless nights? What other reason was there to endure the constant sight of flesh being sliced open and stitched back together, the terror and grief of loved ones forced to wait outside the operating theatre, the unrelentingly ugly reality of the dying?
The longer you worked, the better you knew. You heard the cruel laughter of other doctors as they mocked their patients and traded stories. You were there in the operating room when another surgeon walked in, flipped up the sheet to admire the patient's breasts and continued his conversation with the nurse like nothing happened. You watched the hope and energy drain from those around you, replaced by cynical and shrewd opportunism, until you barely recognized the people you began working with.
Granted, that could have just been because everyone kept transferring.
"I've finished my residency," Doctor Bisco had told you with an unapologetic shrug as he carried his box down the hall like a trophy, "and I got a great offer from San Giovanni. I'm outta here. You're sure you want to take over my current patients?
What, like you're still going to take care of them? You wanted to say, but held your tongue. It wasn't wrong to want more money—nobody would deny you were being overworked, least of all you—but something gnarled and angry stirred in the bottom of your heart when you heard him talk about numbers and connections, like it was all that mattered. Like the politics of the administration mattered more than the people.
When you opened the door to your office and found Doctor Cioccolata Torte sitting in your chair and drinking coffee out of your mug, you started to wonder if maybe they did.
"Doctor Amaretto! Having a good shift so far, I hope?" the man exclaimed as he set your mug down and smacked his lips, giving you a very obvious once over. You felt your jaw twitch. Rather than say the impulsively stupid first words that came to mind, you took a moment to wonder if his black lipstick was that shiny because it was freshly applied.
