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What do y'all think abt a yj fic with rent a bf plotline

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hello same ER DEPT anon here again!! AND OMG YOU ASLO WRITE FOR LADS?? HO IS U IN MY HEAD OR WHAT THIS IS LITERALLY THE BEST

I'm literally under ur bed rn..

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ER DEPT is so cute you're so funny please don't go bald

anon I'm afraid to tell u this but the truth is I'm alr balding 😔🥺😭

OML IM SO GLAD U ENJOYED ER DEPT I HAD SM FUN MAKING IT 😝😝

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Taehyun fic is finally complete!! Pls give it a try if y'all haven't 😣😣

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ER — A Love Language? danger magnet

prev. | masterlist.

Synopsis: yn has never met a staircase they couldn’t fall down, a cat they wouldn’t chase into danger, or a completely avoidable situation they couldn’t make worse. If there’s an incident report being filed, their name’s probably already on it. And if there's an ER nurse sighing for the fifth time that week? It’s definitely Taehyun.

Taehyun just wants to do his job: treat patients, clock out, and not form dangerously soft feelings for the one walking disaster who treats the ER like a revolving door (that's right: yn).

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ER — A Love Language? playing hero

You swore this time you wouldn't go to his hospital.

You've been getting too comfortable. Too aware of how his hands linger. How his sarcasm has softened. How you start looking for him before you even get triaged.

So this time—after running into a literal fire to save a stray cat—you beg the EMT to take you literally anywhere but the downtown ER.

You’re half-convinced it’s working.

That is, until you’re wheeled in and you hear:

“You have got to be kidding me.”

You groan. “No. No, please.”

The curtain swishes back and Taehyun is standing there, arms folded, expression somewhere between furious and… terrified?

“They said burn victim. I didn’t think it’d be you again.”

“It’s just my arm—”

“Why were you in a burning building?”

You pause.

“...Cat.”

“A cat?”

You hold up the small pet carrier with your good hand. The tiny black kitten inside mews pathetically. You look away.

“It looked scared.”

Taehyun blinks. “You risked your life for a cat.”

You mutter, “I was trying to avoid you, okay?”

That stops him.

“You what?”

“I didn’t want to see you again. Not because I don’t like you, but because I do, and I keep getting injured, and you keep seeing me at my worst, and I just—” You wince. “I thought if I went somewhere else, I could… start over. Stop looking like a walking hazard in front of you.”

There’s silence.

Then he walks over slowly, jaw tight. He picks up your chart, scans it without a word, then finally says:

“You’d rather run into a burning building than see me again?”

“...that's not what i—”

“You’re an idiot.”

“I know.”

He sighs. Long and deep, like you’ve personally aged him twenty years.

“You smell like smoke. Your hair’s singed. And you still look at me like I hung the moon every time I wrap a bandage.”

You blink. “You… noticed that?”

He looks away. “I notice everything when it comes to you.”

Your heart stutters.

He presses the bandage down gently over your arm, expression unreadable.

“Stop avoiding me.”

“Why?”

“Because if you’re going to keep doing reckless things,” he says softly, “I’d rather be the one to patch you up.”

You say nothing.

The kitten sneezes.

He glances at it, sighs again, and adds—

“And I’m off in ten. If you’re not actively combusting by then, I’ll drive you and the cat home.”

You smile—small, singed, slightly woozy.

“You sure that’s not against protocol?”

“So is falling for the patient.”

You blink.

But he’s already pulling the curtain closed again behind him.

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Synopsis: yn has never met a staircase they couldn’t fall down, a cat they wouldn’t chase into danger, or a completely avoidable situation they couldn’t make worse. If there’s an incident report being filed, their name’s probably already on it. And if there's an ER nurse sighing for the fifth time that week? It’s definitely Taehyun.

Taehyun just wants to do his job: treat patients, clock out, and not form dangerously soft feelings for the one walking disaster who treats the ER like a revolving door (that's right: yn).

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Rest tew chaps tomorrow 🍓🍓

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ER — A Love Language? lawfully wedded wife

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Synopsis: yn has never met a staircase they couldn’t fall down, a cat they wouldn’t chase into danger, or a completely avoidable situation they couldn’t make worse. If there’s an incident report being filed, their name’s probably already on it. And if there's an ER nurse sighing for the fifth time that week? It’s definitely Taehyun.

Taehyun just wants to do his job: treat patients, clock out, and not form dangerously soft feelings for the one walking disaster who treats the ER like a revolving door (that's right: yn).

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ER DEPT — A Love Language? cold? apparently not

You came in because you had the chills. Sore throat. General "ick" vibes.

You thought it was a bad cold, maybe the flu. At worst, COVID.

So when you shuffle into the ER bundled in a hoodie and sweatpants, holding a crumpled tissue to your nose, the last person you want to see is—

“You again.”

Taehyun. Wearing his signature ‘I hate everything’ expression like it’s part of his uniform.

You sniffle. “at least i kept my promise of not coming back last week also I think I have a cold.”

He almost rolls his eyes. “Well, you look like you’ve been hit by a truck, so you’re halfway there.”

You pout. “I thought nurses were supposed to be nurturing.”

“I am nurturing,” he says, gently wrapping a blood pressure cuff around your arm. “Just not when my favorite patient keeps showing up like it’s a fan meet-and-greet.”

Your heart jumps at the word favorite, but you pretend not to hear it, trying to control a creeping smile.

He checks your vitals, listening to your chest with the stethoscope, the warmth of his hand on your back more comforting than it should be.

Then, he presses lightly on your stomach—and you yelp.

“That hurt?” he asks worried.

“Yes! What the hell was that for?!”

He leans back, eyes narrowing.

“Where exactly does it hurt?”

“Right side. But I just—maybe it’s gas?”

He stands up slowly. Too slowly, as if he realizes something. What? Hello?

“Okay. We’re going to do some tests.”

“Wait, what? I thought this was just—”

“I’m sending you for a scan. And you’re not leaving. Sit tight.” and you obey.

He disappears, and twenty minutes later, you're being wheeled off. Still in a hoodie. Still convinced this is all a dramatic overreaction.

Until you come back, and Taehyun’s standing at the end of your bed, arms crossed.

“Appendicitis.” he reveals, fingers rubbing his temple, drawing in a breath.

You blink. “Sorry, what?”

“Your appendix is inflamed and close to bursting. You’re lucky you came in.”

“...I came in for a cold.” you let out baffled.

“And you almost walked out with internal bleeding. Congrats." He gives you applause. "You're officially banned from diagnosing yourself.”

You stare at him, stunned. Not just from the news, but from the weird, tight look in his eyes.

“are you scared for me?” you say quietly.

“I’m more annoyed,” he says, adjusting your IV with a little more force than necessary. “Do you know how close you were to collapsing at home?”

“Well. Guess I should’ve gotten soup and surgery.”

He doesn't laugh.

“You keep showing up here like you’re invincible. But you’re not. You’re just... you.”

The room goes quiet. Your heartbeat suddenly louder in your ears than it should be.

“you care, don't you?” you murmur, hand reaching out for his.

He sighs, finally looking at you.

“Unfortunately.”

And then he walks off, just as a doctor enters to prep you for surgery.

You wake up groggy. Blinking against the dim hospital lights. There’s a dull ache in your side and a dryness in your throat.

And there—slumped in the chair by your bed—is Taehyun. One and only. The Love Of Your Life.

His arms are crossed. His head tilted back against the wall. He’s fast asleep.

Still in his scrubs. One shoe half-off. A cup of untouched coffee on the table next to him.

You whisper, “Taehyun?”

He stirs, eyes opening. Groggy. Then sharp. Then—relieved.

“You’re awake,” he says softly, rubbing his face. “About time.”

“why'd you stay back?”

He shrugs. “They said you’d be out for a while. I didn’t want you waking up alone.”

You blink. The warmth in your chest has nothing to do with the blanket.

“You didn’t have to…”

“Yeah,” he says, standing and gently adjusting your state. “I did.”

He looks at you for a beat longer than necessary. Then:

“Next time, just come in for a paper cut or something. Give me a break.”

“No promises,” you murmur.

He huffs a quiet laugh.

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Synopsis: yn has never met a staircase they couldn’t fall down, a cat they wouldn’t chase into danger, or a completely avoidable situation they couldn’t make worse. If there’s an incident report being filed, their name’s probably already on it. And if there's an ER nurse sighing for the fifth time that week? It’s definitely Taehyun.

Taehyun just wants to do his job: treat patients, clock out, and not form dangerously soft feelings for the one walking disaster who treats the ER like a revolving door (that's right: yn).

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ER DEPT — A Love Language? juicebox

You didn’t mean to get involved. Really.

You were just walking through the park. Nice day. Birds chirping. Sunshine on your face. Then you heard the screaming—two kids going feral over a juicebox. One launched a wild slap. The other grabbed a sharp, reinforced straw.

And you, the kind-hearted disaster that you are, stepped in to break it up.

Then the straw stabbed you. In the thigh.

And now you’re back at the ER.

With gauze taped over your jeans and juice sticky on your hands.

You’re praying—begging—the universe for any nurse except the one with the cutting sarcasm and strangely perfect cheekbones.

But of course. The universe hates you.

“Seriously?” comes the voice. Cool. Crisp. Judgy, like your life is a poorly written sitcom.

“I just saw you two days ago.”

You smile weakly from the gurney. “Hey, Taehyun.”

He blinks. “Tell me it’s not something stupid this time.”

“well you’re in for a ride.”

You lift your pant leg to reveal the juiced-up gauze. He stares.

One.

Two.

Three.

“You got stabbed. By a child. With a straw?”

“I was trying to help!”

He blinks again, and you can see the exact moment he shuts down emotionally to avoid exploding.

“You’re building quite the collection of bizarre injuries,” he says, setting down a tray of supplies. “We should make you a punch card. Nine visits, tenth one’s free.”

You snort. “Does that come with a free juicebox?”

He glares.

“Too soon?”

He sighed. “just keep quiet.”

He kneels beside you, hands gloved, expression unreadable as he peels back the gauze. His fingers brush your skin and you flinch—not from pain, but from the sudden realization that he’s stupidly close.

“It’s shallow,” he says, gently wiping away the dried blood. “You’ll live. Again.”

“That’s starting to sound like a catchphrase.” you look up at him.

“It might as well be, with how often you end up here.”

You grin. “You missed me, didn't you?”

He doesn’t look up. “I don’t miss stress rashes.”

You raise an eyebrow. “Do I give you stress rashes?”

“You’re like a walking disaster yn,” he mutters, but his lips twitch at the corners.

He bandages your thigh with a quiet kind of care, taping it down like he’s done it a hundred times. Probably because he has. Probably on you.

Then he stands, eyes scanning your chart, and says:

“If I see you in here again this week, I’m personally installing a GPS tracker under your skin.”

Gasp. “Is that a threat or a love confession?”

He pauses. And for the tiniest second, he looks like you’ve glitched his brain.

“...It’s a medical intervention.” a lie.

You bite your lip to hide your smile. He’s blushing a little. You'll leave him alone. For now. Just until you get back to the ER- your second home. Until then you'll leave him be.

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Synopsis: yn has never met a staircase they couldn’t fall down, a cat they wouldn’t chase into danger, or a completely avoidable situation they couldn’t make worse. If there’s an incident report being filed, their name’s probably already on it. And if there's an ER nurse sighing for the fifth time that week? It’s definitely Taehyun.

Taehyun just wants to do his job: treat patients, clock out, and not form dangerously soft feelings for the one walking disaster who treats the ER like a revolving door (that's right: yn).

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ER DEPT — A Love Language? blood donation

The last thing you remember is thinking,

Wow. I’m doing a good deed. I should do this more often.

The next thing you remember is bright lights. Beeping machines. A chill on your wrist. Something snug around your head.

Then—

“Welcome back to the land of the clumsy.”

The voice is cool, flat—tinged with exhaustion. You blink your eyes open and squint at the figure looming above you. He’s got a sharp jawline, dark hair slightly tousled, and eyes that say ‘I’ve had three energy drinks and zero tolerance left.’

“Where am I?” you mumble, throat dry.

“ER,” the guy says. He clips a monitor back onto your finger. “You passed out while donating blood.”

Your eyes widen. “Wait, seriously?”

“Cracked your head on the table when you went down. Dramatic exit, really.” He picks up a clipboard. “How are you feeling now?”

“Embarrassed.”

He hums. “Good. Means you still have brain function.”

You groan and try to sit up—but his hand is immediately on your shoulder, firm but gentle. “Whoa. Nope. Stay flat. You were out cold for three minutes. Concussion protocol.”

You eye him. “Do you say that to everyone?”

“No. Just the ones who faint like Victorian heiresses.”

“I was trying to help people!”

“And we appreciate your service,” he deadpans with a faux smile. “But next time, maybe eat something before giving away a pint of blood. You’re not invincible.”

You narrow your eyes at him. “What’s your name?”

“Taehyun.” He scribbles something on your chart. “I’m your nurse today. Or, if fate continues the way it has, again next week.”

You gasp. “You’ve seen me before?”

“You were here three weeks ago. Sprained wrist. Something about jumping off a swing set?”

“I was chasing a dog!”

“In socks.”

"details. details." You groan and hide under the thin hospital blanket. He chuckles—a quiet, low sound—and gently tugs the blanket down just enough to check your vitals.

“Vitals look fine,” he murmurs, glancing at the monitor. “You’ll live.”

“Glad to hear it, Nurse Judgey.”

He doesn’t respond. Just gives you a small smirk as he walks away, calling over his shoulder—

“Try not to faint again. The ER couches are reserved for people who weren’t taken down by their own hero complex.”

You kind of hate him.

You also kind of want to pass out again just to see him up close.

prev. | masterlist. | next.

Synopsis: yn has never met a staircase they couldn’t fall down, a cat they wouldn’t chase into danger, or a completely avoidable situation they couldn’t make worse. If there’s an incident report being filed, their name’s probably already on it. And if there's an ER nurse sighing for the fifth time that week? It’s definitely Taehyun.

Taehyun just wants to do his job: treat patients, clock out, and not form dangerously soft feelings for the one walking disaster who treats the ER like a revolving door (that's right: yn).

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ER — A Love Language? yn's fam

masterlist. | next.

Synopsis: yn has never met a staircase they couldn’t fall down, a cat they wouldn’t chase into danger, or a completely avoidable situation they couldn’t make worse. If there’s an incident report being filed, their name’s probably already on it. And if there's an ER nurse sighing for the fifth time that week? It’s definitely Taehyun.

Taehyun just wants to do his job: treat patients, clock out, and not form dangerously soft feelings for the one walking disaster who treats the ER like a revolving door (that's right: yn).

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ER — A Love Language? tyuns squad

masterlist. | next.

Synopsis: yn has never met a staircase they couldn’t fall down, a cat they wouldn’t chase into danger, or a completely avoidable situation they couldn’t make worse. If there’s an incident report being filed, their name’s probably already on it. And if there's an ER nurse sighing for the fifth time that week? It’s definitely Taehyun.

Taehyun just wants to do his job: treat patients, clock out, and not form dangerously soft feelings for the one walking disaster who treats the ER like a revolving door (that's right: yn).

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ER DEPT — A Love Language

Synopsis: yn has never met a staircase they couldn’t fall down, a cat they wouldn’t chase into danger, or a completely avoidable situation they couldn’t make worse. If there’s an incident report being filed, their name’s probably already on it. And if there's an ER nurse sighing for the fifth time that week? It’s definitely Taehyun.

Taehyun just wants to do his job: treat patients, clock out, and not form dangerously soft feelings for the one walking disaster who treats the ER like a revolving door (that's right: yn).

Warnings: time stamps don't matter, use of strong language, it is a light hearted fic, calling taehyun 'wife' (smau + written)

Relationship: ER nurse taehyun x gender neutral reader

meet the cast :

yn's fam | tyun's squad

visits :

01. blood donation

02. juicebox

03. cold? apparently not?

04. lawfully wedded wife

05. playing hero

06. danger magnet

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full fleged tyun smau + written fic coming in a few hours

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. SMOKE SESH

—a small smau wherein soobin organises a smoke sesh and chaos ensues, follow through to witness the ride (?)

—might make a continuation, but this is it for a while 😭😭,, yj x gn!reader

—warnings(?) strong use of language, mentions of dick, sex,etc, it doesn't make sense like at all, red flag yj

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RAFAYEL AS YOUR BOYFRIEND (TEXTS)

,, rafayel x gn! reader, established relationship, swearing, etc

,, cumbackk fr 😝 (here's the part 2 i promised, sorr for the delay)