#twiceff

Rain Between Us

Summary:- Jeongyeon is a police detective haunted by the death of her partner. When you, a rookie officer, become her new partner, she keeps you at arm’s length. But as you unravel a dangerous case together, her unresolved grief collides with her growing feelings for you. Just when she starts to open her heart, tragedy threatens to repeat itself.

Chapter - 1

The first time you meet Detective Yoo Jeongyeon, the rain hasn’t stopped for three days.

It sheets down over the precinct parking lot, turning the asphalt into black glass. The sky is a bruised gray, and every footstep you take splashes through shallow puddles. You pull your hood tighter and clutch the folder marked Officer Y/N L/N — Assignment Transfer. Inside, the ink has smudged slightly from the damp. Somehow it feels appropriate. Everything about this city seems waterlogged, from the air to the eyes of the people who live in it.

You’ve heard stories about Jeongyeon before you even step inside. Every rookie has. She’s a legend in the violent crimes division — sharp, relentless, with an instinct that borders on uncanny. But the stories always end the same way: She hasn’t been the same since the accident.

You push through the glass doors and are met with the low hum of phones, keyboards, and murmured conversations. The scent of coffee and wet paper fills the air. Officers move around you, busy, focused. No one really looks your way.

You spot her before she sees you — standing near her desk, one hand in the pocket of her leather jacket, the other holding a file. Her short blonde hair is damp at the ends, her expression unreadable as she flips through papers. The fluorescent light glances off the scar on her right cheek, thin and pale as a raindrop trail. There’s something cold in her posture, something that says stay back.

“Detective Yoo,” you say, voice steadier than you feel.

Her gaze flicks up, sharp as glass. For a second, you feel pinned in place.

“You’re the new kid,” she says, not a question. “The captain mentioned you.”

You nod, extending the folder. “Officer Y/N L/N. I’ve been assigned as your new partner.”

Jeongyeon doesn’t take the folder. Instead, she studies you — or maybe she studies what’s not you. The space between you, the hesitation, the unspoken distance. Then she sighs and turns back to her desk.

“Drop that on the table. We start at eight tomorrow.”

“Should I—”

“You’ll find out then,” she interrupts. “Don’t be late.”

Her tone isn’t cruel, but it’s final. You place the folder on the desk and stand there for an awkward beat before deciding to leave. As you turn, you catch the faintest reflection in the window behind her — her hand brushing over a framed photo half-hidden beneath case files. Two detectives, arms slung around each other, smiling. One of them is her.

You don’t ask.

You spend that night in your small apartment with the rain tapping against the windows, trying to quiet the churn in your stomach. Partnering with Jeongyeon should feel like an opportunity — everyone says she’s one of the best. But something in her eyes earlier unsettled you. They were sharp, yes, but hollow too, as if she’d built walls out of all the things she didn’t want to feel anymore.

The next morning, she’s already waiting in the precinct parking lot, leaning against an old unmarked sedan. She tosses you the keys.

“You drive,” she says.

“Where are we headed?”

She slides into the passenger seat. “A homicide in Gwangjin. Victim’s a male, late thirties. Neighbors heard shouting around midnight. You’ll get the details on the way.”

You climb in, start the engine. The rain hasn’t let up. It blurs the cityscape into streaks of light and shadow.

For a while, the only sounds are the windshield wipers and the soft rustle of the case file she’s reading. You steal glances at her — the way her jaw tenses slightly as she reads, the faint tremor in her fingers when she turns a page. You wonder if she notices you looking, but she never turns her head.

After fifteen minutes, she finally speaks. “You came from Gangdong, right? Patrol unit?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Don’t ‘ma’am’ me,” she mutters. “Makes me sound ancient.”

You hide a small smile. “Sorry, force of habit.”

She doesn’t smile back, but her voice softens — barely. “Why violent crimes?”

You hesitate. “I guess I wanted to make a difference where it mattered most.”

“Everyone says that at first.”

Her tone isn’t mocking, just weary. Like someone who’s heard the same promise too many times and watched it dissolve under blood and paperwork. You want to say something — defend your sincerity — but before you can, she adds quietly, “Just don’t let the job take more than you can afford to lose.”

You glance at her, but she’s staring out the rain-streaked window. You don’t ask what she means.

The crime scene is a cramped apartment on the fourth floor of an old building. The smell hits you first — iron, stale air, and something faintly metallic. Officers mill around, taking photos, marking evidence. A body lies in the center of the room, blood soaked into the carpet beneath him. You swallow hard and try to focus.

Jeongyeon moves like she’s been doing this forever. Her eyes take in every detail: the overturned chair, the shattered glass on the floor, the smear of red on the wall near the door. You follow her lead, noting things down in your pad.

“Victim’s name’s Park Junseok,” she says, crouching beside the body. “Forty-two. Divorced. No kids. Lived alone.”

She lifts a corner of the rug with a gloved hand. “Struggle started near the table, ended here. No forced entry. Killer probably knew him.”

You nod, trying to match her analytical tone. “Neighbors said they heard shouting, right?”

“Yeah. Male and female voices. Maybe a domestic dispute, maybe not.” She stands, straightens her jacket. “Let’s check the security footage.”

As you follow her out, an officer calls her name. “Detective Yoo — Captain says the press is already sniffing around.”

Jeongyeon’s expression hardens. “Tell him I’ll handle it.”

You can see how everyone around her reacts — not with fear, but with the cautious respect reserved for someone who’s earned her scars the hard way. They lower their voices when she passes, make space for her without her asking. You wonder what it’s like to carry that kind of reputation — and that kind of solitude.

Back in the car, she stares at the folder resting on her lap. “You did good back there,” she says finally.

“Thank you.”

“Don’t thank me yet. You’ll see worse.”

Her words hang in the air. You grip the steering wheel a little tighter. “You’ve seen a lot of cases like that?”

She exhales slowly, eyes unfocused. “Too many. And they all start to look the same after a while.”

You want to ask her about the photo on her desk — about the partner she lost — but something in the slope of her shoulders warns you not to. So you drive in silence again, watching the city slide by in gray blurs.

When you reach the precinct, she gathers her notes and heads straight to her desk. You linger by yours, pretending to sort through files while sneaking glances in her direction. At one point, she pauses, staring at the photograph again. Her thumb traces over the smiling face beside hers — a man, from the looks of it — and then she sets the frame face down.

You pretend you didn’t see.

That night, as you’re leaving the precinct, Jeongyeon catches up with you by the door.

“Wait,” she says, voice low.

You turn, surprised. “Yes?”

She hesitates, like the words cost her effort. “Don’t take this personally, but I work alone. I don’t do small talk. I don’t do after-work drinks. Just focus on the job, and we’ll get along fine.”

It stings, even though you expected something like that. “Understood.”

She studies you a second longer, then nods once and leaves, raincoat slung over her shoulder. You watch her disappear into the drizzle outside, wondering what kind of pain makes someone draw their lines so sharply.

Later that week, the case deepens. The victim’s financial records show large transfers to an unregistered account. Jeongyeon believes it ties to an underground gambling ring. You’re running through statements when she stops beside your desk, sipping her coffee.

“You free tonight?” she asks abruptly.

You blink. “I—yes, I think so.”

“Good. We’re following a lead. Grab your coat.”

The ‘lead’ turns out to be a dingy bar near the Han River. Cigarette smoke curls through the air, and the bartender eyes you warily as you enter. Jeongyeon flashes her badge, and he quickly gestures toward a booth in the corner where a man in a hooded jacket sits hunched over a beer.

The interrogation that follows is quiet but intense. Jeongyeon leans forward, voice calm but edged with steel. You watch her shift between persuasion and threat with surgical precision until the man finally mutters a name: Min Daeho, a mid-level enforcer for the ring.

When they step outside afterward, rain is falling harder again. The neon reflections shimmer on the pavement. Jeongyeon’s expression is unreadable.

“Good work back there,” you say, meaning it.

She shakes her head. “Don’t thank me yet. Leads like this usually end badly.”

You frown. “You always expect the worst?”

She meets your eyes — and for the first time, you see the flicker of something raw behind them. “It’s easier that way.”

the aftermath of a breakup

tags :: nostalgia, heartbreak, melancholy | pairing: jihyo x gender neutral reader | not proofread!!

wc :: 500

cast :: y/n, jihyo

song :: Kaleidoscope - Chappell Roan

Every night, the thought of Jihyo's touch ravaged you. It had been more than five months since your breakup, yet the pain in your hearts seemed as raw as the day you parted. You could still feel the warmth of her hand, and how her fingers would delicately trace patterns on your skin, leaving a trail of comfort and affection. Your nights were now chilly and empty, filled with a desire that you knew would never be realized. You often find yourself reaching out in the darkness, hoping to find her there beside you. But all you grasp is emptiness, a cruel reminder that she is no longer yours. The scent of her perfume still lingers in the air, a ghost of the past that refuses to fade. You close your eyes, trying to hold onto the fragments of your time together, but the memories slip through your fingers like sand, leaving you with nothing but the hollow echo of her absence.

The hardest part is knowing that you can never go back. Your love is a memory, locked away in a time that you can't revisit. You see her smile in your dreams, hear her laughter in the quiet moments, but when you wake, reality crashes down, and the pain is unbearable. You miss her touch, her presence, her everything. But most of all, you miss the way she made you feel whole. Now, you are just a shadow of who you used to be, longing for a love that is forever out of reach. You wander through your days in a daze, every corner of your life a reminder of what you have lost. The coffee shop where you used to meet, the park bench where you shared countless conversations, even the songs on the radio that once played in the background of your happiest moments—all of it is a constant reminder of Jihyo. Each memory is a dagger to your heart, twisting deeper with each recollection.

As the days turn into weeks and the weeks into months, the pain does not lessen. Instead, it becomes a part of you, a constant companion that you learn to live with. You know that Jihyo has moved on, probably found happiness elsewhere, and while you wish her nothing but the best, it doesn't stop the tears from falling when you are alone. The nights are the hardest, filled with dreams of what could have been and the stark reality of what is. You lie in bed, staring at the ceiling, wondering if you will ever feel whole again.

warning: mention of blood, knife, mention of person being held captive, mention of murder, violence, toxic relationship, brutality.

plot type: yandere

pair: yandere! jeongyeon x jihyo

story type/status: short story & finished

A couple weeps echoed through the room. It rang through Jihyo's head. Some time passed before Jihyo regained consciousness. "Hey, my love. How are you holding up?" Jeongyeon says softly running her hand down her thigh causing Jihyo to flinch. Jihyo tries to move her body away from Jeongyeon not wanting to be touched by her. "What? You don't like my touches anymore? Why not? You always knew I was like this. This isn't a new me? You always knew I was like this. Matter of fact it's your fault I couldn't change." Jeongyeon says softly, chuckling after. "It isn't my fault you killed all those people!? You are the monster and you did it all on your—'' Jihyo argues but big mistake. Jeongyeon smacks her, biting her lips right after. "You see, I didn't want to do that but you need to learn your place Jihyo, you're not behaving like the wife you promised to be." Jeongyeon sighs out before softly caressing her cheek that was red now. Jihyo knew Jeongyeon and she knew she would never change but she thought that if she gave her enough love and gave her what she wanted she wouldn't hurt anybody else. Jihyo had a bad habit of wanting to fix what she thought was broken. That was her first mistake. Jihyo winced in pain moving her face further from her reach but couldn't since Jeongyeon tightened her grip on her jaw. "You're misbehaving Jihyo. It's breaking my heart." Jeongyeon whispered into her ear. The moment gets interrupted by the cry of the man. "Oh, Mr. Johnson, good afternoon." Jeongyeon says with a bitter-sweet voice. He panics and cries. "Oh no Mr. Johnson, don't cry, be a man." Jeongyeon laughs before punching him. "Now he should sleep some more." Jeongyeon hummed a bit before turning towards Jihyo who's mood had seemed to change. "You Jeongyeon. My love, now that I think about it I have been so unfair to you. So guilty, I never saw how much you cared for me. You killed all those people to protect me right? Oh my love I was so naive! So oblivious" Jihyo says, her tense face becoming soft. "Yes! Jihyo, that's right. You finally understand. I do it for you. I would never hurt someone innocent. Especially like you." Jeongyeon comes closer to Jihyo and goes in for a kiss hoping Jihyo wouldn't reject it. Jihyo kisses her back. "I love you Jeongyeon, you know that right?" Jihyo smiled resting her head on Jeongyeon's head. "Yeah? I love you too." Jeongyeon whispered and got on her knees between Jihyo's legs hugging her waist. "I miss this. I miss you. I miss us." Jeongyeon went on and on. "Will you let me free? I want to kiss you and hug you. I want to touch you. I want to do it now." Jihyo says, looking into Jeongyeon's eyes. Jeongyeon chuckled "Really? You want to?" Jeongyeon says getting closer to her, their bodies colliding. "Yeah so untie me already." Jihyo says, spreading her legs initiating an invitation. "How bad do you want me?" Jeongyeon whispered into her ear before nibbling on it. "Bad..?" Jihyo says, letting out a soft gasp. "Yeah I would think so I'm hard to not want. But I'd be 'oblivious' to think that's the reason you want me to untie you. Don't be a tease." Jeongyeon mutters into her ear. Jihyo's eyes widened. She thought she had it under control and she thought it would work. But of course Jihyo had plan B. Jihyo with all her force bumped her head against Jeongyeon's head causing her to fall back. While Jihyo tried to seduce her way out she was trying to untie herself which she successfully did. "Run!" Jihyo screams at Mr. Johnson who within seconds was struck with a knife to his stomach. Jihyo didn't stop to process, she ran out the door. She ran to Mrs. Johnson house she knocked aggressively multiple times. "Fuck! Open. Mrs. Johnson!" Jihyo panicked. 'It's over. I'm dead,' She thought to herself before she fell back into the Johnsons' home. "Mrs. Yoo? What are you doing?" Mrs. Johnson asks, confused. Quickly Jihyo enters and closes the door, locking it. Jihyo tries to catch her breath. "Mrs. Johnson, call the police! Now please!" Jihyo couldn't do anything but cry as she now processed everything that just happened. "Call the police? What? Why? What's going on Jihyo? Where's your wife?" Mrs. Johnson says, making Jihyo angry. "For fucks sake old lady call the fucking cops we don't have times for questions. Where's the phone!?" Jihyo got up and destroyed the place looking for a phone. "Wait a minute hold on young lady! You will not come to my house and disrespect me! I want you to leave!" Mrs. Johnson attempted to grab her. Jihyo fought back and their argument was interrupted by a thud. "What was that?" Mrs. Johnson says looking up at the ceiling assuming the sound came from upstairs. "Mrs. Johnson please we are in danger if we don't call the cops you will die." Jihyo says as her whole body shook. "I will die? How about you?" Mrs. Johnson said finding it questionable. "She just wants me for her. She'll never kill me unless I show no love." Jihyo mumbles out. "Okay, okay you have some explaining to do but I'll go look for the phone. Mrs. Johnson says walking into the long dark hall. Before going any further she turns and looks at Jihyo. "Wait a sec—" Her words get cut off by a knife piercing through her throat. "Time is up!" Jeongyeon says, pushing her heavy body onto the floor and walking over it. "Time that bitch died." Jeongyeon says running towards Jihyo who had just stood there frozen in fear. "The Johnsons' house? Really? You thought you had a chance to run away and you decided on the house next door?" Jeongyeon laughed slowly. It took Jihyo a second to finally do something she was going to reach towards the door but it was too late Jeongyeon grabbed onto her. Jihyo elbowed her stomach causing Jeongyeon to move back. Jihyo ran towards the kitchen grabbing a tool box. She quickly searched, finding a hammer. "You're going to die today you bitch!" Jihyo shouted. "Oh you don't mean that babe." Jeongyeon says, dragging her body towards where Jihyo hid. Jeongyeon grabbed Jihyo by her hair pulling her towards the main entrance but Jihyo fighting made it harder. Jihyo successfully broke out her grip and attempted to hit Jeongyeon with the hammer but Jeongyeon was stronger and quicker she choked her pushing her against the wall. Jihyo panicked and she fought "You promised. You promised!" Jihyo shouted out while still fighting, "You said you loved me! I said I loved you— W-why are you doing this!?" Jihyo began to sob, her face became red and the air on her lungs began to fade. Jeongyeon's hand slowly tried to let go. She didn't want to kill Jihyo but she knew Jihyo could never love her. "You're right you loved me but I will always love you just like you once said." Jeongyeon said before wrapping her hands around her neck and began to tighten her grip. 

Young!Jin Bubaigawara x Reader (Pt. 1)

warning: yelling, drinking, swearing, maybe some blood.

// current writing song: Play With Fire by Nico Santos //

"Ay, tuts, speaking of drinks, lemme get another!" A voice drowned out the rest of the chattering men. A slam of a beer bottle snapped you out of your distant thoughts, the swishing of the drink, gave you the reminder of what the hell you were doing.

You're 16 years old. Working at an illegal bar, surrounded by men; young, old, large, skinny, husky, feminine.. You had 'em all.

"Respect her, shes doing her job and serving people. How 'bout you shut the hell up and serve yourself some manners," A voice cat-called back to the tipsy man. Your eyes snapped to the voice. Connecting it to a boy your age.

He had sloppy blonde hair, which went in every single direction. His pasty pale skin, didnt compliment his slightly dull-grey mixed with cobalt eyes. He looked unhappy. But the lopsided grin on his face seemed to give off a sinister aura. A lit cigarette was hanging slightly out of the side of his mouth. Blonde facial hair spotted on his chin, and above his upper lip.

The boy your age wore a jet-black biker jacket, spikes lightly decorating it. Small jagged spikes plastered on top of his shoulders. It was leather, and man did it fit him well. Around his wrists; we're flooded with wristbands, spiked or not.

"What did you say to me, kid!?" The man jumped from his seat, pointing across the bar at the blonde.

"Get the crack outta your ears and you'd be able to hear me. But i'll say it again. Respect her, shes doing her job serving people. How 'bout you shut the hell up and serve yourself some manners," The blonde cracked a bigger grin, taking the cigarette between his fingers and exhaling the smoke into the air.

The tipsy man sat back softly in his chair.

"Anyways.." The boy looked at you, "Can I have a mixed drink?" His gaze flicked up at you, blowing smoke into the air.

"Also, kid, You see the No Smoking sign!?" The tipsy man yelled from across the bar counter.

"Yes. And does it look like i actually give a shit?" The boy infront of you replied, giving a wicked glare. Then he looked back at you, giving a reassuring look. You smiled back at him, flicking your eyes down his body then back up to his gaze. "Whats your name, doll?" He asked.

"Y/N. Y/N L/N.." You replied

warning: murder, implied mention of a knife, harming, implied mention of self-harm, abduction, bullying.

plot: yandere highschool plotted

pair: Im Nayeon x Yandere! Son Chaeyoung 

story status/type: one-shot & finished

All eyes are on her, the boys drool and bark as she passes by. Every guy wants to have her in bed and every girl wants to be her. Well, that leaves Chaeyoung who amongst the crowd she watches in envy of those close to her. All her happy thoughts of ever talking to her get interrupted by a sudden push. "Move, psycho." A soft yet painfully annoying voice says. "Sorry." Chaeyoung mumbles out quickly, moving away from the girl. "Hey, cool it Suyeong.." Nayeon mutters and then proceeds to apologize to Chaeyoung. "N-no um. Don't worry." Chaeyoung attempted to reply as her whole body boiled, her cheeks all red excited to hear Nayeon talk to her for the first time. Though they were only two words to Chaeyoung, they were millions of kisses. Suyeong rolls her eyes and closes her locker within seconds of opening it slamming her shoulder against Chaeyoung's shoulder as she walks past her. Chaeyoung gripped on her pants looking down at the floor embarrassed. "One..Two..Three.." Chaeyoung counts, she feels like she needs to or not only God knows what she would do. Chaeyoung imagined a couple of times what she would do to those who hurt her. What she would do if anyone tried to take Nayeon's innocence. Every day Chaeyoung ticks like a bomb. Tick.. Tick.. her patients runs low only Nayeon makes her so calm, keeps her sane. Classes go by teachers talk what they talk it all means nothing to Chaeyoung she only attends to see Nayeon once in a while. Nayeon raises her hand interrupting the boring words of the teacher. Chaeyoung closes the notebook where instead of notes lay beautiful drawings she had drawn of Nayeon, every page with her name. "May I go to the bathroom?" Nayeon says, causing Chaeyoung to immediately announce that she needed to use the bathroom as well. After some convincing the teacher allows them both to ago. The walk was pretty silent and awkward, but not for Chaeyoung she enjoyed every bit of it. As soon as she enters the bathroom she regrets it. Her whole body shook as her eyes met with Suyeong's and her little crew. "Oh, I guess you brought a guest?" Suyeong says slowly, dragging her body towards Chaeyoung's direction. But Chaeyoung quickly turned around aiming to open the door, yet Suyeong was quicker since she had already grabbed onto her hair pushing her against the door right before locking the door. "Suyeong what the hell!?" Nayeon yelled at Suyeong, sounding more upset than surprised. Chaeyoung tried to break free from Suyeong's grip until she felt a cold sharp object against her skin. "You think you're better than me don't you? That you are all that?" Suyeong mutters against her ear. "Guess you're not so brave now." She continues and grabs her arm pulling up her sleeve revealing scars. Chaeyoung looks at Nayeon with an embarrassed look.  She seemed to be flustered, but Nayeon was more concerned rather than finding this a laughing matter. "That's enough Suyeong.." Nayeon says now avoiding eye contact with Chaeyoung causing her to frown. "What? Gone soft, Bunnie?~" Suyeong teases slowly, singing the last word catching Chaeyoung's attention. "Where is it?! Where is my notebook?!" Chaeyoung chokes out realizing that the secret notebook where she wrote all her love letters for Nayeon had been lost for some time. She called her Bunnie, only Chaeyoung can call her that no one else. "What notebook? Hm, this one?" Suyeong's friend gave her the notebook that had Nayeon's name chanted everywhere. "Oh, Bunnie how much I love you—" Suyeong reads out loud making Chaeyoung look away and mumbled, "Please give it back.." "Oh, what's that? To 'read some more'? With pleasure—" Suyeong teases. "Suyeong that is enough!" Nayeon becomes uneasy. "Fine, I'll put it away. Where it belongs of course." Suyeong says before ripping pages off the notebook and throwing them into the toilet. Chaeyoung attempted to run towards Suyeong, but her friends held her back making her watch. "No! Please no. Why did you do that? I don't understand.." Chaeyoung began sobbing attempted to break free, then was let go. She tries to get the rest of the notebook. "Don't. Ever. Mess. With. Me. Ever." Suyeong says before shoving Chaeyoung's head into the toilet then quickly was pulled away by Nayeon. "Please, Suyeong stop already!" Nayeon says pulling her out of the bathroom and her friends follow. There was a loud silence for a bit which was suddenly broken by the ticking bomb. Tick.. Tick.. Boom. Laughter crowded the empty bathroom. Chaeyoung held her stomach trying to catch her breath. All the excitement riled her up. "Oh my.. it worked. It really worked." It seems like this is what Chaeyoung wanted. She wanted Suyeong to find her notebook see how much Chaeyoung hates her and how much she loves Nayeon. She wanted Suyeong to hear her say how much everyone hates her. Chaeyoung knew how jealous Suyeong was of Nayeon how much shit she talked of her. "It's okay Bunnie I'll make her pay. She will say sorry to you my Bunnie." Chaeyoung couldn't count anymore the tick was no more. It was gone all there was left was anger and "love." Chaeyoung began to act rather than sit down and let everything fall into place as they see fit. On the final day of her plan, she is struck with a new idea. "Hey, beautiful— how about you think about it at least. You know, you, me in one bed? Better yet no commitment attached if you want." The dirty words of a pig truly are the dirtiest. The boy hasn't given up to make a move on Nayeon. He tries so hard but enough is enough when attempts to touch upon her Chaeyoung eye's pierced through the guy with anger. "How dare he attempt to take Nayeon's innocence. How dare the dirty world attempt to caress the body of the women I love." Chaeyoung argued to herself as she prepared for the exhilaration of her life. Where everything began for some and ended for others. Nayeon's head ached the room with walls she could not recognize began to spin. She attempted to muffled out a couple of words but soon was muted by the pure shock. Nayeon met eyes with Suyeong and her crew who were all tied up in chairs each looking at Nayeon in pure fear. Nayeon in panic looks around trying to figure out what is going on and who else was here. Nayeon closed her eyes and screamed when she saw the body of the guy who attempted to touch upon her hanging from the ceiling. She opened her eyes after hearing a familiar voice speak and laugh. "Bunnie, you don't like your 'welcome home' present?" Chaeyoung says resting her arm on her chest while the other caresses her cheek. "Well, it's okay no need to be embarrassed or scared of him, he's gone. He'll never lay a dirty hand on you." Chaeyoung smiled, then it quickly faded when her eyes met with Suyeong's and her crew. "Now, I love this reunion, but you guys had more than enough time to breathe. It's time.. you don't." Chaeyoung confessed before pulling the gag out of Suyeong's mouth which dumb as a rabbit Suyeong thinks she can be helped now. Suyeong screams crazy for help causing Chaeyoung to only laugh louder before her face breaks into a void of no emotion which sends shivers down Suyeong's spine. "Oh Suyeong, Suyeong, Tsk, Tsk. Between you and I, we both know I am smarter than to have thin walls in this place. No one is going to help you." As Chaeyoung finishes talking Suyeong was not giving up she thought she had a better chance by stepping on Chaeyoung foot and maybe just maybe Suyeong could break free and run away. Chaeyoung stared at her confused at how she thought it'd work. "There are so many things you are going to regret doing. Including this one." Chaeyoung grabbed one of Suyeong's friend's heads and forcefully pulled her back and slowly little by little one dropped dead and then went to the other leaving a room full of sobs and screams. "Suyeong~" Chaeyoung sings and stands behind her. She lets her hand run down Suyeong's hair before gripping it tightly causing her to scream and cry. "You think you're better than me don't you? That you are all that?" Chaeyoung mutters into Suyeong's ear. All Suyeong could respond with were sobs and fear. "Guess you're not so brave now." Chaeyoung chuckles out before with all her force grabbing Suyeong along with the chair she was tied to and bringing her near this large bucket of water laid. "Don't. Ever. Mess. With. Me." Chaeyoung choked out before setting Suyeong to meet her end. "Wait! Wait no no what are you doing?! N-" Suyeong begged until she couldn't no more. Chaeyoung let Suyeong fight the fight she could never win. "No, please Chaeyoung! Listen to me please don't do this anymore, please. I don't care if she talked about me, I don't care anymore! Stop all of this already.." Nayeon kept begging, but all went to waste because Suyeong does not breathe anymore. "Oh, Nayeon. If only you saw that I did this for you because I know you wanted this to happen. You wanted Suyeong and her friends dead. You wanted that pig dead. You wanted all that anger to play out. You wanted this. I love you and I know you feel it too."

Rain Between Us

Summary:- Jeongyeon is a police detective haunted by the death of her partner. When you, a rookie officer, become her new partner, she keeps you at arm’s length. But as you unravel a dangerous case together, her unresolved grief collides with her growing feelings for you. Just when she starts to open her heart, tragedy threatens to repeat itself.

Chapter - 1

Chapter - 2

Chapter - 3

Chapter - 4

Chapter - 5

Chapter - 6

Chapter - 7

Chapter - 8

Chapter - 9

Chapter - 10

The shots echo through the forest, swallowed almost instantly by thunder. For one terrifying second, everything goes still. Then Junwoo staggers backward, gun falling from his hand, and tumbles into the ravine below.

You lower your weapon slowly, lungs burning, waiting for movement that never comes. Jeongyeon stands frozen, rain streaking her face, the barrel of her gun still trained on the darkness.

“Jeongyeon,” you say softly.

She doesn’t answer. Her shoulders tremble, her breathing ragged. You take a cautious step closer. “It’s over.”

Her voice is a whisper. “It never is.”

You reach out, wrapping your fingers around hers. Her skin is ice-cold, but she doesn’t pull away. The tension drains from her grip, and at last, she lowers the gun.

For a long moment neither of you move. The rain falls harder, washing away the smoke, the blood, the weight of everything that came before. When she finally looks at you, there’s no victory in her eyes—only exhaustion.

“Let’s go home,” you say.

Back at the precinct, dawn creeps through the blinds, pale and unfamiliar. You sit across from Jeongyeon in the debriefing room. Her hair clings to her temples, her clothes still damp, but she hasn’t said a word since they brought you in.

The captain finishes the report, signs a few forms, then sighs. “You two did good work. Go get some rest.”

Jeongyeon nods mechanically, mutters a quiet “Yes, sir,” and stands. You follow her out into the hallway, where the silence feels heavier than the rain outside.

She stops beside the lockers, staring at nothing. “He’s really gone.”

You nod. “He is.”

“He killed two guards, tried to kill us, and still—” She breaks off, shaking her head. “I thought I’d feel something. Relief, maybe. Closure. But I just feel… hollow.”

You hesitate before saying, “Maybe closure isn’t about feeling better. Maybe it’s just about accepting that what’s done is done.”

Her gaze drifts toward you. “You always have the right words.”

“I fake it well.”

She huffs out a laugh, the sound fragile but real. “You really do.”

Hours later, you find her on the rooftop again, sitting against the low wall, watching the city wake beneath a sky of bruised silver. You bring two cups of coffee, setting one beside her.

“Thought you might need a refill,” you say.

She smiles faintly. “Trying to bribe your senior officer?”

“Would it work?”

“Maybe.” She takes the cup, warming her hands on the lid. “I keep thinking about Haneul. About how it ended. I used to tell myself I could’ve done something different—moved faster, been smarter, taken the bullet instead.”

You sit beside her. “And now?”

“Now I think maybe it was just… life. Cruel, unpredictable. Like the rain.”

You nod, letting the silence settle. The city hums below, alive despite everything.

After a while she asks, “Do you ever get scared?”

“All the time.”

“Of dying?”

“No,” you say quietly. “Of losing the people I care about before they know how much they matter.”

Her eyes meet yours. “Then maybe you should tell them.”

“Maybe I just did.”

For the first time, she doesn’t look away.

Weeks pass. The case files close, new ones replace them, and the department moves on. But something in Jeongyeon softens—a new steadiness beneath the guarded exterior. She still keeps her walls, but now she leaves the door open.

One evening, after a long shift, she drives you out of the city. The rain has stopped, leaving the air thick and clean. She parks near the river, the same stretch of water that once reflected sirens and grief. Now it glitters under streetlights like it’s learning how to shine again.

“I used to come here after Haneul died,” she says. “It was the only place the noise couldn’t reach.”

You rest your arms on the railing. “And now?”

“Now I wanted to see it without the ghosts.” She turns toward you. “You helped me do that.”

You smile. “I didn’t do much.”

“You stayed,” she says simply.

The words hit harder than any confession could. You want to reach for her, to pull her close, but instead you just whisper, “Always.”

She leans against your shoulder, and the two of you watch the river flow—endless, forgiving, alive.

A few nights later, the rain returns. Not a storm—just a gentle drizzle that paints everything in silver. The precinct is quiet, most of the lights off, the world hushed. You and Jeongyeon linger by the exit, neither willing to leave first.

“You know,” she says, “I think I finally understand why you don’t mind the rain.”

“Oh?”

“You said once it’s the only thing that sounds the same no matter where you are. I used to think it was a reminder of loss. But now…” She hesitates, searching for the words. “Now it feels like it’s just… honest. It falls, it ends, and then things grow.”

You grin softly. “Didn’t know you were a poet.”

She nudges you. “Don’t tell the captain.”

“Your secret’s safe.”

She studies you for a long moment, then says quietly, “Thank you.”

“For what?”

“For not giving up on me when I made it impossible.”

You swallow. “You never made it impossible. Just… hard to reach.”

Her lips curve. “You reached anyway.”

“I’d do it again.”

The silence that follows is different now—warm, open, full of possibility.

When she finally steps closer, the movement is slow, uncertain. The rain drips from the edge of the awning, soft and steady. She looks up at you, searching your face as if for permission. You don’t speak; you don’t need to.

Her hand finds your cheek, thumb brushing the line of your jaw. Her voice is barely a breath. “You make me feel like I can breathe again.”

You smile, heart pounding. “Then don’t stop.”

The kiss is quiet—no fireworks, no music, just the sound of rain between you. It tastes like coffee and relief, like everything you both thought you’d lost. When she finally pulls back, she rests her forehead against yours.

“I don’t know what comes next,” she murmurs.

“Then we’ll figure it out. Step by step.”

“Together?”

“Always.”

Months later, on a spring morning washed clean by the rain, Jeongyeon stands beside you in front of the academy’s memorial wall. Fresh recruits pass by, their uniforms crisp, eyes bright with the same naïve confidence you once had. She watches them for a moment, then says quietly, “I used to think the badge was a shield. Now I think it’s a promise.”

“To what?”

“To keep showing up,” she says. “Even when it hurts.”

You glance at her. “You’re really bad at small talk, you know that?”

She laughs, and the sound fills the air like sunlight after weeks of storm.

“Come on,” you say. “We’re going to be late for briefing.”

“Lead the way, rookie.”

As you walk back toward the car, the clouds part. The rain has stopped, but the scent of it lingers—earthy, clean, alive. Jeongyeon tilts her head up to the sky, eyes half-closed, and for the first time, there’s no trace of sorrow in her expression.

You take her hand as the city hums awake around you. She doesn’t pull away.

The past still exists—the grief, the fear, the nights filled with thunder—but it no longer defines her. It lives beside her, quiet, like the echo of rain on distant glass.

And as the two of you drive away, windows down, wind tangling your hair, you realize that maybe this is what healing sounds like:

Not silence. Not peace. Just rain—soft, steady, endless.

Falling not between you anymore, but around you, like a benediction.

THE END.

🌧️ Thank You, My Lovely Readers! 💙

Hey everyone! ☕✨ Thank you so much for reading “Rain Between Us.” 💫 Your time, love, and emotions mean the world to me 🌎💖 I poured my heart into this story, and knowing you felt it too makes every word worth it 🥺🩵

Let’s keep walking through the rain together 🌧️🚶‍♀️💫 Until the next story — stay safe, stay soft, and keep believing in second chances 🤍🌈

Rain Between Us

Summary:- Jeongyeon is a police detective haunted by the death of her partner. When you, a rookie officer, become her new partner, she keeps you at arm’s length. But as you unravel a dangerous case together, her unresolved grief collides with her growing feelings for you. Just when she starts to open her heart, tragedy threatens to repeat itself.

Chapter - 1

Chapter - 2

Chapter - 3

Chapter - 4

Chapter - 5

Chapter - 6

Chapter - 7

Chapter - 8

Chapter - 9

The rain has become background noise now—a rhythm the city can’t live without. You and Jeongyeon have learned to move through it like it’s an old friend: steady, predictable, cleansing.

Two months have passed since the train-yard arrest. The case is closed, Junwoo awaiting trial, and Detective Yoo is finally sleeping through the night. Or at least she tells you she is.

You don’t quite believe her.

At the precinct, life has fallen into its old routines—coffee, paperwork, sarcasm—but something beneath that rhythm has shifted. She smiles more now, even laughs sometimes, though it always carries that soft ache that comes from having survived something you weren’t sure you would.

You’re at your desk reviewing a theft report when she appears beside you, leaning against the partition with her usual casual authority.

“Got a minute?” she asks.

“For you? Always.”

She tosses a file onto your desk. “Double homicide in Hongdae. Captain wants us on it.”

You raise an eyebrow. “Didn’t we just agree to avoid anything with ‘homicide’ in the title?”

“Apparently, the universe didn’t get the memo.”

You sigh, grabbing your jacket. “All right, boss. Lead the way.”

The crime scene sits inside a half-collapsed warehouse. The victims are a pair of security guards—both shot clean through, no signs of struggle. Forensics are already cataloging evidence when you and Jeongyeon duck under the yellow tape.

Rain seeps through holes in the roof, forming puddles that reflect the harsh light of floodlamps. She crouches beside one of the bodies, studying the angle of the bullet entry.

“Professional,” she murmurs. “No hesitation.”

You look around. “Nothing stolen. What’s the motive?”

She points toward the back, where several crates have been forced open. Inside, you glimpse stacks of microchips wrapped in foil.

“Military tech,” she says. “Or black-market knockoffs. Either way, someone wanted them enough to kill.”

You whistle softly. “Guess our quiet weeks are officially over.”

Hours pass in a blur of statements and photographs. The rain outside turns into a downpour, hammering against the tin roof until your voices are almost drowned out. You and Jeongyeon huddle beneath an overhang, reviewing notes.

“You okay?” you ask after a while.

She shrugs. “It’s strange. Cases like this used to consume me. Now it’s just… work.”

“You mean you’ve learned to let go.”

“Maybe.” She glances at you. “Or maybe I’ve just found a reason not to drown in it.”

You smile faintly. “That reason better not be coffee.”

Her lips twitch. “No. It’s louder and more stubborn.”

You bump your shoulder lightly against hers. “Guilty as charged.”

That night, you stop by her apartment to drop off a report she forgot to sign. She opens the door in a hoodie and sweatpants, hair damp from a shower, looking more like the version of herself she doesn’t let the world see.

“You didn’t have to come all the way here,” she says, stepping aside.

“Could’ve emailed it,” you admit. “But then I wouldn’t get free tea.”

She laughs under her breath and motions you in. The place is quiet—books scattered across the table, the faint hum of rain on glass. You hand her the file, and she signs without reading, trusting you completely now.

When she hands it back, your fingers brush. Neither of you pulls away.

“You know,” she says softly, “I used to think grief was like rain—something you just had to wait out. But it doesn’t stop. You just learn to walk in it.”

You look at her, really look. “You’ve gotten good at walking.”

“Not alone,” she says.

The words hang between you like the pause before thunder. You want to say something, anything, but her phone rings, slicing through the moment.

She answers, frowning. “Detective Yoo.” A beat. “What? When?” Her face hardens. “We’ll be there.”

She hangs up. “They moved Junwoo. Prison transport ambush. He’s gone.”

Your stomach drops. “Gone? As in escaped?”

She nods. “Two guards dead. They found the van burning outside Incheon.”

You grab your jacket. “Then we start over.”

The next forty-eight hours blur into adrenaline and rain. Roadblocks, witness statements, dead ends. Junwoo’s trail vanishes like smoke. The department forms a task force, but Jeongyeon refuses to step back. You stay by her side, because you know better than to let her face ghosts alone.

By the third night, exhaustion shows in every line of her face. She’s standing in front of the map board, eyes bloodshot, when you place a cup of coffee beside her.

“You need sleep,” you say.

“Can’t.”

“You won’t.”

She exhales sharply, finally meeting your gaze. “You don’t get it. If he’s out there—”

“Then we’ll find him,” you interrupt. “Together.”

Her jaw tightens. “You keep saying that word like it’s a shield.”

“It is,” you say simply. “For both of us.”

For a moment, she just looks at you. Then she nods, barely perceptible, and turns back to the map. But you see it—the flicker of fear, the silent plea not to lose someone else.

It’s past midnight when the lead comes in. A truck driver reports a man matching Junwoo’s description hitching a ride north toward the mountains. You and Jeongyeon are already moving before the captain can assign backup.

Rain follows you like fate. The road winds through forests, headlights slicing through mist. Neither of you speaks until the radio crackles with interference.

Then Jeongyeon says quietly, “If something happens—”

“Don’t,” you cut in. “We’re not doing that.”

“I’m serious.”

“So am I. Nothing’s happening to you. Not again.”

Her grip on the wheel tightens. “You can’t promise that.”

“I can,” you say softly. “Because I’m not letting you go alone.”

She glances at you, the corner of her mouth lifting. “Stubborn rookie.”

“Always.”

When you finally spot the truck, it’s parked on the side of a narrow dirt road. The driver’s gone, cab empty. You draw your weapon, scanning the tree line.

“Stay close,” Jeongyeon murmurs.

“Wasn’t planning on doing anything else.”

You follow her into the woods. Rain filters through the branches, dripping down the barrel of your gun. The forest is alive with whispers—wind, leaves, memory. Somewhere ahead, a twig snaps.

Jeongyeon raises a hand. You both move in silence, steps deliberate. Then you see him.

Junwoo stands at the edge of a ravine, soaked, wild-eyed, the gleam of a pistol in his hand. He turns at the sound of your approach, mouth twisting into a smile.

“I was wondering when you’d catch up.”

“Drop it,” Jeongyeon orders.

“Last time you said that, you shot me.”

“Worked, didn’t it?”

He laughs, sharp and broken. “You think this is justice? You think locking me away fixes anything?”

“This isn’t about fixing,” she says. “It’s about ending.”

You keep your aim steady, pulse roaring in your ears. “Put it down, Junwoo. Don’t make her do this.”

He looks between you, eyes narrowing. “So this is the replacement. Tell me, rookie—how long before she gets you killed too?”

“Enough!” Jeongyeon snaps.

The sound of thunder drowns out the rest as Junwoo raises his gun.

Rain Between Us

Summary:- Jeongyeon is a police detective haunted by the death of her partner. When you, a rookie officer, become her new partner, she keeps you at arm’s length. But as you unravel a dangerous case together, her unresolved grief collides with her growing feelings for you. Just when she starts to open her heart, tragedy threatens to repeat itself.

Chapter - 1

Chapter - 2

Chapter - 3

Chapter - 4

Chapter - 5

Chapter - 6

Chapter - 7

Chapter - 8

Shadows dart between the freight cars. Jeongyeon pushes you behind a stack of crates, gun steady despite the rain slicking her hands. The echo of footsteps grows closer, then stops. The only sound left is the relentless drumming of water against metal.

Three shapes appear through the mist—men in dark clothes, faces hidden beneath hoods. One holds a knife, another a pipe, the third a gun.

“Looks like he brought friends,” you whisper.

Jeongyeon’s eyes narrow. “Stay low.”

She moves before you can stop her—quick, precise, fearless. Her first shot takes out the man with the pipe. He drops instantly. The one with the gun returns fire, bullets sparking off the steel siding beside you. You press against the wall, heart hammering.

“Jeongyeon!”

“I’ve got him!” she shouts back. Her next two shots find their mark. The final man hesitates, then bolts into the dark. She runs after him without thinking.

“Jeongyeon, wait—!”

You chase her, slipping on the wet gravel, the rain blinding. You see flashes of her flashlight ahead, the metallic glint of her badge as she sprints toward the far end of the yard. Then, suddenly, silence.

“Jeongyeon?”

No response.

You move faster, rounding a corner—and freeze.

Junwoo has her pinned against a wall, knife at her throat. His suit is soaked, eyes wild, teeth bared in a feral grin.

“I knew you’d come alone,” he snarls.

“I’m not alone,” she says through clenched teeth.

You raise your gun. “Drop it, Junwoo.”

He laughs. “The rookie. You never learn, do you?”

You keep your aim steady despite the tremor in your injured arm. “You killed Ara. It’s over.”

“Over?” He presses the blade harder. A thin line of blood beads against her skin. “You think this ends with me in handcuffs?”

Jeongyeon’s voice is cold. “That’s the idea.”

He jerks her closer, using her as a shield. “Then shoot. Let’s see if you’ve got better aim than last time.”

You can see it—the flicker in her eyes, the memory of her last partner falling, the weight of another life hanging on a trigger pull. The moment stretches too long.

So you move.

You sidestep into the rain, firing once. The bullet hits Junwoo’s shoulder. He stumbles, the knife clattering to the ground. Jeongyeon twists free, grabs his wrist, and slams him to the wall with a force that rattles the steel.

“Not this time,” she says through gritted teeth.

He spits blood, laughing weakly. “You think killing me fixes anything?”

“No,” she says. “But it stops you.”

She cuffs him, reading his rights with a calm that shakes more than rage ever could. When she’s done, she finally exhales, shoulders sagging. You step closer, resting a hand on her back.

“You okay?”

She nods slowly, though her hands are still trembling. “You shouldn’t have taken that shot.”

“Then we’d both be dead.”

She meets your gaze, eyes shining with rain and something deeper. “You keep risking yourself for me.”

You smile faintly. “Maybe that’s just what partners do.”

Her laugh is shaky, but real. “You’re insane.”

“Probably.”

By the time backup arrives, the yard is crawling with officers. Junwoo’s hauled off in cuffs, shouting curses that dissolve into the rain. The paramedics check your arm, scolding you for reopening the wound. You wave them off, eyes searching for Jeongyeon.

She’s standing a few feet away, watching the flashing red-and-blue lights reflect in puddles. You walk to her side, the exhaustion settling between you like fog.

“It’s over,” you say quietly.

She shakes her head. “Not yet. There’ll be reports, testimony, maybe another trial.”

“I meant for you.”

Her lips part, but she doesn’t speak. Instead, she stares out at the rain, voice low. “Every time it ends, it feels like I’m supposed to feel lighter. But I don’t. I just feel… empty.”

You step closer, your sleeve brushing hers. “Maybe that emptiness isn’t a void. Maybe it’s space—so something new can start.”

She looks at you, something unreadable flickering in her eyes. “You always have an answer, don’t you?”

“Only for you,” you say softly.

For a long moment, she just stares. Then, almost imperceptibly, she leans her head against your shoulder. The contact is brief but grounding, a fragile proof that she’s still here—and that you are too.

Later, in the quiet hum of the precinct, you’re both seated at your desks finishing reports. The clock on the wall ticks toward 2 a.m. She looks up suddenly.

“You ever think about what happens when this all stops?” she asks.

“What do you mean?”

“When the cases end. When we don’t have anyone left to chase.”

You shrug. “Then we find something else to run toward.”

She huffs a soft laugh. “You make it sound easy.”

“It’s not,” you admit. “But maybe it’s worth trying.”

She studies you for a moment, then sets her pen down. “You know, before you, I didn’t think I’d ever want to try again.”

You look at her, startled. “Jeongyeon…”

“I kept telling myself that caring only leads to pain. That if I stayed alone, I couldn’t lose anyone else. But then you showed up—loud, stubborn, reckless—and somehow you made me forget how to keep my distance.”

Your throat tightens. “Is that a good thing or a bad thing?”

Her smile is small but genuine. “Still deciding.”

You reach across the desk, fingers brushing hers. “Take your time.”

She squeezes your hand once before letting go. “Don’t tell anyone I got sentimental.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it.”

The next morning, you find her on the rooftop of the precinct, watching the sunrise. The city glows gold and silver beneath the fading clouds. For once, there’s no rain.

“Couldn’t sleep?” you ask.

“Didn’t want to,” she says, eyes still on the horizon. “Feels like if I blink, it’ll all disappear.”

You step beside her. “It won’t. You’ve earned this.”

“Maybe we both did.”

The wind catches her hair, brushing it against your cheek. You turn toward her, and for a moment, the world narrows again—to her breath, her warmth, her quiet strength. The same storm that once tore her apart now feels like something that’s finally passing.

She looks at you, eyes soft. “Do you think we ever stop running from what hurts us?”

You think for a moment. “No. I think we just learn to run together.”

She smiles, and the sight feels like sunrise itself. “Then stay.”

“I’m not going anywhere.”

The silence that follows isn’t empty. It’s full—of rain and laughter, of grief and survival, of everything left to come.

That night, it rains again—soft, forgiving. You and Jeongyeon sit in her car outside a quiet diner, the same one from weeks ago. She taps her fingers on the steering wheel in rhythm with the drops.

“I used to hate this sound,” she admits. “It reminded me of the night Haneul died.”

“And now?”

“Now it reminds me of the night I didn’t lose you.”

You smile. “That’s progress.”

She chuckles. “Maybe. Or maybe it’s just life reminding me I get second chances.”

You glance out at the rain-slick streets, then back at her. “Then let’s not waste it.”

Her hand finds yours again, steady this time, unflinching. “Deal.”

Outside, the rain falls—not as sorrow, but as renewal. The storm that began with loss now ends with quiet resilience, and in the dim glow of the dashboard lights, Jeongyeon finally looks at peace.