♡

“Look what I nabbed, Cap’n.”

Gunner Taehyung’s grinning with all teeth, a golden chain wrapped around his fingers that’s so shiny it’s blinding with the sunlight. Hoseok’s intrigued and flips the locket in his hand. It’s heavy with a wild rose engraved on the front and once he pops it open, there’s a faded painted portrait of a young woman inside.

“It’s a booty, eh? Caught if off milady right over ‘ere.”

Hoseok hums and narrows his eyes on the wrench tied in rope sitting amongst the captives. Your face is dirtied, hair drawn in a bun at your crown but with many strands fallen around your face. Your gown rat’s coloured, dull gray. You are entirely unremarkable. Like any other peasant.

But it’s not often captives have something of value on them.

“Bring her to my cabin.”

“Aye, aye.”

The ship sets sail again. Taehyung keeps the captives quiet with the threat of throwing them overboard while the cabin boy Jungkook swabs the poop deck. Helmsman Seokjin mans the helm with navigator Namjoon by his side. The ship’s heading to dock at Port Galigeo to get a pretty penny for all the loot and treasures they’ve gotten after four months’ voyage.

Once steep waters are reached and everything’s been taken care of, Hoseok resumes to his cabin. There, he finds you, sitting in the corner on the floorboards with tears in your eyes. You gasp as he enters and shuts the door.

“Please! Spare me!” you beg sorrowfully. “Let me go!”

“Why should I?” Hoseok tosses his hat onto his table and his coat to his rickety chair. You look so frightful, even when he’s still in his drawers and shirt, held together by the red sash.

He fiddles with the many golden rings across his fingers, a habit since he began his adventures, and he comes over to you. Hoseok’s boots are heavy against the floorboards, and he crouches down to meet your trembling eyes.

“I-I am just a peasant,” you sob. “I have nothing to give to you! My father is merely a farmer.”

“Oh? Then what be this here?” Hoseok dangles the priceless locket in front of you as the corner of his lip curls. It catches the light from the tiny window of the cabin and the gold gleams against your eyes, practically sparkling like a jewel. 

Your eyes flicker from it to him, hiccuping and frame quivering like a damn leaf. “It’s my grandmother’s. She left it for me before she passed.”

Hoseok hums a low note. “An’ if this be your grandmother’s, how she pay for such a treasure? Unless she been a thief.”

Your downcast head shakes. “I don’t know, I don’t know.”

He pops the locket open before taking a good look at it. “This here be a portrait of you, isn’t it? You look different. Lavish. Like a noble’s daughter.”

“T-That isn’t me.”

“Then who?”

“I don’t know.” 

There’s something rather pretty in the way tears drip down your cheeks, so soft and gentle like jewels of their own right. But Hoseok has seen many women, children and men cry. It’s nothing astonishing.

Hoseok smirks, a rush of air leaving his nose. “I’ve been cap’n of this ship for nearly a decade, dearest. I’ve held treasures you could only dream of, been in battles that nearly lost my leg, sailed ‘cross the seven seas with me mates. I know when a wrench lies.”

His eyes are narrowed in on yours. And Hoseok comes closer, hand lifting to grab a hold of your chin. But before he can, before he can blink or breathe — suddenly, you brandish a piece of glass against his exposed neck. 

The ropes around you clatter to the ground. Hoseok feels the sharp edge of the glass digging into his skin, a moment away from nicking him and drawing blood. But more notably, your eyes are aflame. Your expression is dark and you’re scowling at him. 

Gone is the fragile little girl weeping for mercy.

“Don’t come closer,” you warn in a low voice without a single tremble.

He leans back, but his gaze stays on yours. “You reckon you could kill me?”

“I wouldn’t hesitate.”

Hoseok’s mouth curls, grin stretching into his cheek. His interest is piqued. He knew there was more to you beneath the surface, and he’s happy you haven’t disappointed.

His hand latches onto your wrist to force your hand away. It's a battle of strength. One that he ultimately wins as the piece of glass goes clattering on the ground out of your reach. He sees it’s part of a broken bottle. But Hoseok’s much too put off guard and when your leg kicks out at him, he’s smacked square in the chin.

He grips it as he lands on his ass, sharply exhaling. But then he bursts into chuckles.

“You got some mean spirit in you, sweetheart.”

Unfortunately for you, Hoseok has far too much experience in combat and capture. Even if you try to kick, strike and even bite him, it’s not too difficult to get you tied into ropes again. Except this time, he makes sure to use his special knots and get you so wound up, no sharp edge could free you. 

“Let me go, bastard!”

“Settle down. You’re only gettin’ yourself riled.” Hoseok crouches in front of you again and comes to wipe away the stray tear on your cheek with the pad of his thumb. You angrily scowl at him, chest rising and falling. Crying won’t get you far now, not when he knows they’re just crocodile tears. “Don’t get yourself worried about someone hurtin’ you. Everyone on this ship swears by our code, me included.”

You scoff. “As if I’d trust a pirate.”

Hoseok smirks. “If I wanted to hurt you, I would’ve done so already. It isn’t pleasin’ for me to force a girl like yourself either. Not when I have plenty o’ gold to play with a wrench at the dock. Now I suggest you behave or my Quartermaster’ll throw you overboard.”

“Then do it!” you shout at him with your entire body, only to flop over to the floorboards.

He grips the knob of the door and looks over his shoulder. “No. You’re too much of a treasure, sweetheart.”

The sun is falling over the horizon when Namjoon approaches. “Everything go well with the girl?”

Hoseok hums and turns with a glint in his eye. “Tell all hands to keep her separate.”

Port Galigeo is reached within two days time. The waters are calm without storms and the stars are clear at night. The sailing is smooth and so the docks are reached faster than ever before.

The men aboard are eager to sell the loot, to spend a few days ashore, spend nights at the brothel and replenish the rum. As follows, their steps are quick and they move the crates of jewels and tools to the harbour. Seokjin also takes care of the captives, leading them in a straight line off the gangplank to be sold.

“Cap’n! What ‘bout the beauty ‘ere.” Taehyung points to you.

Hoseok meets your eyes and you’re seething, glaring back at him. The corner of his mouth curls in amusement.

“Leave her. Tell the lad to watch over her till we return.” He points to Jungkook and Taehyung nods with an ‘aye, aye’. 

Most of his crewmen take care of business, getting as much gold for the loot as possible. But Hoseok fiddles with your pendant in hand and heads to a jeweler. Said jeweler is an old man who quivers upon seeing him, Namjoon and Seokjin in his shop. He hides behind his table and cries, “Please! Spare me! Take what you must!”

Hoseok sighs. He doesn’t know why everyone thinks so badly of him. Maybe because he’s a pirate and he and his crew have pillaged countless. That’s fair, he supposes.

“Stop yer quivering,” Seokjin spews out, leaning against his table. “We need you to look at somethin’. Hurry before I steal your silver!”

Hoseok lifts your golden locket, letting it dangle from his hand. 

The old man eventually slinks out when he realizes they won’t do anything, and he takes out his magnifying glass. He motions for him to bring it forward and Hoseok does. The old man hums, studying the locket before flipping it over in his hand. His thumb brushes against the wild rose engraving.

“Where did you get this from?” he asks.

“Don’t matter,” Namjoon says curtly. 

Hoseok studies the man’s face and leans closer. “What is it?”

“It is a very valuable locket. I happen to recognize this symbol as well. It is the emblem of the Crochetta Kingdom.” He pops the locket open to the portrait of the young woman and looks up at Hoseok, clearing his throat. “I believe this locket belongs to the youngest princess of that kingdom. The runaway.”

Hoseok’s brow cocks.

The three of them leave in a hurry. 

Seokjin’s eyes are glazed as his mouth starts to spew how Lady Luck is truly on their side, how they’ll be able to get their hands on a high ransom or sell you for countless riches. Namjoon is perplexed at how a princess like you managed to get here when Crochetta was countries away.

But Hoseok remains quiet. He doesn’t plan to trade you. He doesn’t ask questions.

He is entirely and wholly intrigued. Like never before.

“Blimey, the ship!” There’s a shout at the docks and Hoseok is torn from his thoughts. Taehyung has his hands in the air, cursing aloud. And Hoseok’s eyes trail from him to his ship that’s off the dock and disappearing over the horizon. “It’s sailing away!”

Seokjin is aghast. “How?!”

“Who’s still on?!” Hoseok shouts, looking around the dock to all his shocked men and their mouths drawn open big enough to catch flies.

“That girl,” Namjoon says, looking at the captain.

Hoseok tied you tightly, he made sure of it. Unless you freed yourself again. But it’s not possible that you lifted the anchor. 

No. You must’ve cut the rope.

“Where’s Jungkook?”

At the same time, there’s a high-pitched shriek in the distance. All of the men are held to their spots on the docks as they watch a tiny figure in the horizon get pushed off the ship’s deck and then plopped into the waters. 

There’s a loud splash.

You stole the ship.

Hoseok is quiet when his men turn to him. They don’t dare utter a single word, far too afraid their captain is boiling with anger. But what frightens them far more is when Hoseok suddenly bursts out into chortling laughter.

He laughs and grins as he watches his ship sail into the distance.

You were truly a treasure hard to find. He knew it when he saw you.

Other young women your age learned piano and embroidery and court etiquette beneath candlelit ceilings in warm estates far from danger. Instead, you learned how to brace yourself against violent waves before you learned proper handwriting, you learned how to hold a knife before you learned how to dance, you learned how to spot approaching enemy ships before you learned what love was supposed to feel like.

Your father liked to say the ocean only respected the ruthless, which was probably why he spent more time speaking to his crew than to you. Captain Seo was feared across half the known waters, cruel in the way storms were cruel - not because they enjoyed destruction, but because they did not care enough to stop it. Men whispered his name in taverns with lowered voices and stiff shoulders while merchants cursed him over spilled whiskey and missing cargo.

You had heard the stories constantly whenever your ship docked in crowded ports. “The Black Crest.” “The Sea Devil.” “The Butcher of the South Passage.” Your father? You were naive once, you couldn’t believe your precious father could ever hurt a man, let alone take multiple lives with a flick of his sword.

They never mentioned his daughter, never mentioned the girl standing ten feet away with a dagger hidden beneath her coat and enough fury buried inside her ribs to drown kingdoms whole. Surprisingly, you preferred it that way, because being underestimated kept you alive.

The ship rocked violently beneath your boots as rain hammered against the deck hard enough to sting your skin raw, but you barely reacted anymore because storms had stopped frightening you years ago. Above you, thunder cracked across the black sky while sailors shouted over one another trying to secure ropes before the mast split clean in half. Harsh waves slammed against the hull with terrifying force, seawater spraying across the deck in freezing bursts that soaked through your clothes instantly.

The storm had arrived faster than expected, swallowing the horizon whole until the world became nothing but darkness, roaring wind, and chaos. You should have been below deck. Your father ordered it nearly an hour ago with that cold commanding voice he used whenever he stopped speaking to you like a daughter and started speaking to you like another sailor beneath his authority. But storms always made you restless, they reminded you there was still something larger than your father in this world, something even he could not command or threaten into obedience.

So instead, you stood near the starboard railing gripping soaked wood while rain drenched your coat completely, your braid sticking heavily to the back of your neck. Lightning illuminated the horizon every few seconds, brief violent flashes revealing endless black ocean before darkness swallowed everything again. You closed your eyes briefly and inhaled deeply. Salt, rain, smoke, freedom. It was the closest thing to peace you had felt in weeks.

“Miss!” one of the crewmen hurried toward you through the storm, struggling to keep his footing while water crashed across the deck around him. “Your father said below deck immediately.”

You barely glanced at him because you already knew exactly how this conversation would go. “Then he can come drag me there himself.”

The poor sailor looked exhausted before you even finished speaking, like arguing with you had physically aged him over the years. “Please do not make me repeat that to him.”

“He already dislikes me. One more disappointment won’t kill him.”

“Your father does not dislike you, miss.”

“No?” You turned toward him fully then, rain dripping down your face while thunder growled overhead. “Then why does everyone on this ship act like my only purpose is surviving long enough for him to trade me to someone useful?”

The crewman opened his mouth immediately, probably searching for some comforting lie, but closed it again because neither of you knew how to answer honestly. Your father had never officially promised your hand to anyone, but men spoke openly enough around ships when they assumed women weren’t listening. Political alliances, merchant families, powerful captains.

Your existence was valuable because of your father’s reputation, not because anyone cared what you wanted. You were a woman, after all. Having grown up with no mother, some would say you’ve no proper etiquette or understanding of your role in society, making you appear animalistic and impolite, just like the men on your father’s ship. Sometimes you wondered if he loved you at all or if he simply protected what belonged to him. The thought made your chest ache in ways you never admitted aloud.

Lightning split across the sky suddenly, illuminating the horizon bright enough to burn white across your vision for half a second, and that was when you saw it. Another ship. Massive. Dark. Moving through the storm like it had been born there. Your stomach tightened immediately because there was only one crew reckless enough to sail directly into weather like this.

The Arirang.

It was a beauty. Your father’s greatest enemy. A pirate vessel infamous from the eastern colonies to the northern trade routes, commanded by a captain whose name was spoken almost like a warning prayer in every port you had ever visited. Jeon Jungkook. You had heard stories about him since you were fourteen years old. Some called him a devil blessed by the sea itself, while others swore he had survived executions, mutinies, impossible storms, ambushes that should have killed entire crews. At twenty-two, he was already one, if not the most, feared captain in your seas.

Tavern girls spoke about him with flushed cheeks and dreamy smiles while merchants cursed him for stealing cargo worth kingdoms. Your father spoke of him differently though, with restrained hatred sharpened by reluctant respect he refused to admit existed. “That boy is dangerous,” he once muttered after too much rum and too little sleep. “Not because he kills. Plenty of men kill. He’s dangerous because people want to follow him.”

You were seventeen when you first heard Jungkook’s name. You were twenty now, and somehow fate had dragged his ship directly into yours in the middle of a storm violent enough to swallow fleets whole.

“CAPTAIN!” One of your father’s men pointed toward the approaching vessel while panic spread immediately across the deck like spilled oil catching fire. Cannons rotated, sailors scrambled toward battle positions while others shouted over the storm trying to secure damaged rigging before the ship tore itself apart completely.

Your father emerged from his quarters with fury already carved into his face, long dark coat snapping violently in the wind behind him. The second his eyes landed on the Arirang, everything in him sharpened dangerously.

Then he noticed you standing there. The rage redirected instantly. “I told you to stay below deck.”

“And I told you storms are prettier up here, father.” You weren’t lying. From where you were standing, you could see everything perfectly.

“This is not the time for your mouth.”

You rolled your eyes, turning towards the sea again. “When is it ever?”

“Enough.” Your father strode toward you through rain and smoke, seawater dripping from dark hair while thunder shook the sky overhead. Even exhausted and soaked through completely, he carried authority like a weapon. Men twice your size feared him instinctively, you had your entire life.

“I told you to get inside,” he ordered again, voice low enough to be dangerous.

“I can fight.”

“You can obey.” obey. obey. obey - your life story, to shut your mouth and obey.

“I am not a child.”

“No,” he snapped sharply, stepping closer until you could feel the fury radiating from him despite the storm. “You are my daughter. Which means every man on that ship becomes a threat the second they realise who you are.”

You crossed your arms despite the freezing rain soaking through your sleeves, because refusing him had become an instinct years ago. “Maybe I’m tired of being treated like something breakable, as though I’m not capable of protecting my ship as-well as my life.”

Your father’s jaw tightened immediately, that familiar look crossing his face - equal parts frustration and fear he never admitted existed. “The sea breaks everyone eventually.”

“Maybe I’d rather it break me than lock me below deck forever.”

“Do you think this is about control?” His patience was thinning now, with the Arirang close by and the storm worsening? you were bound to be doomed.

“Isn’t it always?” Another wave crashed violently against the ship hard enough to shake the deck beneath your feet, but neither of you moved. Around you, sailors rushed frantically preparing for battle while cannons were loaded and ropes secured, yet somehow this argument still felt louder than the storm itself.

“You know nothing about what men become during war,” your father said finally, quieter now but somehow more frightening because of it.

“I know exactly what men become during war,” you answered immediately, anger now quickly building up inside you. “I was raised by them.”

Something flickered across his expression then. Hurt maybe. Regret? It disappeared too quickly to study properly. “This conversation ends now.”

You scoff, not surprised your words were enough to shut him up. “Convenient.”

Before he could answer, a cannon blast exploded through the storm violently enough to rattle your bones. The entire ship shook beneath you while screams erupted across the deck. Splintered wood burst through smoke and rain as sailors stumbled backward from the impact. Somewhere above, ropes snapped loudly enough to sound like gunfire. Another cannon roared from the Arirang. Then another. War, as always, came quickly at sea.

The Arirang tore through rain and smoke like something alive, black sails towering against lightning while men moved across its deck with terrifying precision. Even from this distance, you could see the crimson insignia painted near the mast - a crown dripping blood. As far as you knew, around 120 men worked on that ship alongside Jungkook, yet you’d heard that he’d chosen another six sailors to actually command with him, the ones he trusted the most, allegedly.

Cannons erupted from both ships, explosions shaking the ocean itself while smoke swallowed the storm whole. Sailors shouted over one another carrying ammunition, dragging injured men across bloody wood while seawater mixed with blood near your boots. Yet somehow, your attention fixed entirely on one thing.

Him.

Jungkook stood at the helm like the storm belonged to him, tattooed hands gripping the wheel steadily while rain soaked through dark hair hanging across his forehead. He was younger than you expected, that thought struck first. Not soft - never soft - but young enough to still carry traces of boyhood beneath the brutality carved into him.

Gold rings flashed beneath lightning while black ink crawled up one arm disappearing beneath rolled sleeves. He stood unnervingly calm while chaos exploded around him, expression unreadable as cannons roared beside his crew.

Then he looked directly at you. Your breath caught instantly. Impossible. At this distance? Through smoke and rain and darkness? Yet somehow his gaze found yours immediately, sharp enough to feel physical. You should have looked away, every instinct screamed at you to move, but you didn’t.

Something dangerous passed between you then. Recognition maybe, curiosity? The strange terrifying awareness of meeting someone who might ruin, or even end your life completely. A cannon fired beside you suddenly, shattering the moment violently while smoke burst across the deck thick enough to choke on. Your father grabbed your arm hard enough to bruise. “Inside. Now.”

You yanked your arm free immediately despite the pain. “Stop treating me like I’m helpless.”

“And stop acting like the world won’t destroy you for being careless.”

“You think hiding me below deck changes anything?”

“It keeps you breathing.” Hardly, you’ve been the target countless times during a battle or raids, the perfect hostage for any sailor who craves your father’s treasure.

“You mean controlled.” Your tone was accusing, but not untrue.

His expression darkened instantly, eyes narrowing with dangerous warning. “This is not the conversation to have during a battle.”

“Then maybe stop starting them.” For half a second, genuine anger flashed across his face - not captain’s anger, but father’s frustration. The kind he only showed you when you pushed too far beneath his skin. Then another cannon blast interrupted everything again, your father turned sharply toward the battle while smoke swallowed the deck.

Across the storm, Jungkook smiled. Not kindly, not cruelly either, but like he had just discovered something interesting. Like really seeing you there during battle amused him more than it should have. And somehow, despite everything happening around you, your pulse betrayed you instantly.

:<:<:<:<

Your father barked another order across the deck while sailors rushed past carrying cannon ammunition through smoke thick enough to burn your lungs, but your attention remained fixed entirely on the man standing aboard the Arirang. Jungkook still watched you like the battle around him was background noise instead of active warfare.

Rain slid down the sharp line of his jaw while lightning flashed across tattooed skin disappearing beneath his soaked shirt. Even from this distance there was something deeply unsettling about the way he carried himself - too calm, too confident, too alive in the middle of destruction. Men screamed around him, cannons exploded beside him, the ocean itself looked seconds away from swallowing both ships whole, yet he stood there smiling faintly like this was all some entertaining game only he understood properly.

Your pulse hammered painfully beneath your ribs because there was something horribly intimate about being noticed during chaos. Like out of everyone aboard your father’s ship, Jungkook had chosen you immediately. Another cannon blast shook the deck hard enough to send sailors stumbling sideways, but your eyes never left his. You hated yourself for it instantly. Hated the heat curling low in your stomach despite the freezing rain soaking through your clothes completely. Hated the dangerous curiosity spreading beneath your skin every time his gaze found yours again. Most of all, you hated that part of you wanted him to keep looking, wanted his eyes to keep raking over every inch of your soaking skin.

“MOVE!” Your father shoved one of the sailors away from falling debris before turning toward you again with fury written across every sharp line of his face. “This is the last time, y/n. Below deck now before I lock you there myself.”

“You’re impossible,” you snapped back immediately, raising your voice over the storm while seawater crashed violently across the ship around you.

“And you are too reckless.”

“You raised me this way.” The words struck harder than intended. Your father froze briefly, rain dripping from dark hair while cannon smoke curled around both of you thick enough to blur the world. For one small second, something almost guilty flickered across his face before disappearing beneath anger again. “I raised you to survive.”

“No,” you answered sharply, chest tightening painfully. “You raised me to obey.”

Another explosion erupted nearby, sending splintered wood flying across the deck while sailors shouted warnings over one another. Your father stepped closer instantly, lowering his voice despite the chaos surrounding you. “You think I keep you hidden because I underestimate you?”

“Don’t you?”

“I keep you hidden because this world destroys women first.” The confession caught you off guard immediately, he rarely spoke honestly enough for his words to hurt.

“And men?” you asked quietly.

Your father looked toward the Arirang briefly before answering. “Men become monsters trying to survive it.” Then his eyes found Jungkook standing across the storm. “Especially men like him.”

:<:<:<

Across the water, Jungkook leaned slightly against the helm while Taehyung appeared beside him laughing about something completely unrelated to the battle, because apparently pirates aboard the Arirang treated warfare like a casual inconvenience instead of near death.

“Oh? has someone caught your eye, jungkook?” Taehyung remarked with obvious amusement while reloading his pistol lazily. Everyone on the Arirang knew about their captain’s growing interest in you, it was no secret between them that Jungkook was determined to get his hands on you, and not let go. “She’s pretty enough to drown over.”

Jungkook ignored him entirely, eyes still fixed on you standing soaked through beside Captain Seo. There was something deeply wrong about the image in front of him. Captain Seo was notorious for brutality, for cruelty sharpened into leadership through fear and bloodshed. Men like him kept daughters hidden behind locked doors and political marriages, not standing openly on battle decks during storms with fury burning in their eyes brighter than lightning.

Yet there you were refusing to retreat even while cannons fired close enough to kill you instantly. Interesting. Very interesting.

“You’re doing the thing again,” Taehyung continued, grinning wider when Jungkook finally looked toward him.

“What thing.”

“The obsessive thing.” Even though Taehyung was still a sailor supposed to serve and obey jungkook, he didn’t hesitate to call him out on anything.

Jungkook’s eyes immediately went dark, his tongue poking his cheek. “I am not obsessed.”

Taehyung’s eyebrows rose at his denial. “You’ve kept your eyes on her for nearly two full minutes during active combat.”

Jungkook rolled his eyes immediately. “She’s Captain Seo’s daughter.”

“Exactly,” Taehyung answered dramatically. “Which means this ends terribly for everyone involved.”

Somewhere nearby, Jimin laughed loudly enough to be heard over cannonfire while Hoseok shouted from the rigging about damaged sails. The crew moved seamlessly around Jungkook despite the storm, each man terrifyingly capable in his own way. They were pirates, yes, but more than that - survivors tied together by loyalty stronger than blood. Jungkook trusted them with his life. There were few people in the world he could say that about anymore.

Another blast rocked the ship violently while Namjoon approached the helm carrying maps soaked nearly beyond recognition. “The storm’s getting worse,” he warned calmly despite the chaos around him. “If we continue this fight much longer, both ships sink before dawn.”

Jungkook finally tore his eyes away from you long enough to glance toward the horizon where waves rose taller by the minute. He knew Namjoon was right. Continuing this battle would be reckless even for him. But something stubborn twisted inside his chest at the thought of leaving now.

“Board them, then.” Jimin suggested casually while wiping blood from his mouth like he had simply bitten his tongue instead of surviving a fight. “Seo’s crew is already scrambling.”

“And drown halfway there?” Yoongi muttered from nearby while reloading another pistol with practiced calm.

“Brilliant strategy.” Seokjin sighed dramatically before pointing toward Jungkook. “He’s distracted.”

“I am not distracted.” Lie. Lie. Lie.

“You looked personally offended when the girl almost got hit by that cannon blast.”

Jungkook’s jaw tightened immediately, because unfortunately they were not wrong. When debris exploded near you moments earlier, genuine panic had shot through him before he could stop it. Ridiculous.

He did not know you. He barely knew your face. Yet something about watching you stand there beneath the storm made his chest feel painfully tight in ways he disliked immediately. “Not tonight,” Jungkook decided finally, voice quieter now. “We pull back before the storm worsens.”

Taehyung smirked instantly. “Ah. So we’re sparing Captain Seo because his daughter has pretty eyes.”

“We’re sparing Captain Seo because I enjoy surviving.”

“Sure,” Jimin answered with a grin. “That’s definitely the reason.”

The Arirang began turning slowly through the storm while cannonfire finally lessened between both ships, though tension still hung heavy across the ocean thick enough to choke on. You watched the movement carefully, confusion tightening your chest immediately because Jungkook had the advantage now. Your father’s ship had taken heavier damage. Several cannons were unusable. Half the crew looked seconds away from collapsing from exhaustion. If the Arirang continued attacking, there was a real possibility your father would lose.

Yet somehow Jungkook chose retreat instead. Your father noticed it too.

“Coward,” one of the sailors muttered nearby under his breath while watching the pirate ship disappear slowly into rain and darkness. “No,” your father answered coldly, eyes narrowed toward the horizon. “Strategist. He’s intelligent.”

The word settled heavily in your stomach because there had been nothing cowardly about the way Jungkook looked at you moments earlier. If anything, he looked dangerously certain, like meeting you had changed something inside him already. The thought should have terrified you more than it did. Instead, warmth spread low beneath your ribs remembering the faint curve of his mouth during battle.

Remembering the way his eyes held yours through smoke and thunder like he could see straight through every wall you spent years building around yourself. You hated how quickly your body responded to the memory. Hated the way your pulse still raced violently despite the battle ending.

Your father turned toward you sharply then, expression unreadable beneath rainwater and exhaustion. “You were looking at him.”

The accusation landed instantly. “No, I looked at an enemy ship.”

“No,” he answered quietly enough to frighten you more than shouting would have. “You looked at him.”

Before he could say anything, you turned away from the railing and went down below deck to your quarters. Your father’s eyes followed you the whole time, trying to figure something out.

:<:<:<

Your father’s accusation followed you long after the storm finally settled into uneasy silence. Even hours later, after sailors stopped shouting and the wounded were dragged below deck for treatment, the words still echoed painfully inside your head. You looked at him. The problem was that your father was right, and both of you knew it. You had looked at Jungkook too long. Longer than necessary. Longer than safe.

There had been hundreds of things demanding your attention during battle - blood soaking through the deck, cannons splitting wood apart, sailors screaming through smoke thick enough to suffocate on - yet somehow your focus narrowed entirely onto one man standing across the ocean like the storm itself answered to him. You hated how easily he lingered in your thoughts afterward. Hated the way your body betrayed you every single time you remembered his eyes finding yours through rain and darkness.

Your quarters felt unbearably small that night. Candlelight flickered softly against wooden walls while the ship creaked beneath restless waves, but sleep refused to come no matter how tightly you shut your eyes. Every time you tried, all you saw was Jungkook standing soaked by rain with gold rings flashing beneath lightning and that infuriating almost-smile tugging at his mouth like he already knew something about you no one else did.

Worse, your mind kept replaying the exact moment his gaze dragged slowly down your body - brief enough to deny, deliberate enough to ruin you completely. No man had ever looked at you like that before. Not hungry exactly, not soft either, like he wanted to take you apart carefully just to see what lived beneath all your sharp edges. The realization made heat crawl beneath your skin despite the cold air filling your cabin, your cheeks flushed as you began to think about how those gold rings would feel against the soft skin of your-

A sharp knock sounded against your door suddenly, pulling you violently from your thoughts before they could spiral further into dangerous territory. “Come in,” you called quickly, forcing your voice steady while sitting upright on the edge of your bed. The door opened immediately, revealing your father standing there looking older than usual beneath dim candlelight.

Exhaustion carved harsh shadows beneath his eyes while fresh cuts lined one hand from the battle repairs still happening above deck. For a moment neither of you spoke. Silence between you always felt heavier than arguments somehow. Your father finally stepped inside slowly, shutting the door behind him while the storm outside groaned softly against the ship. “You disobeyed me today,” he said at last, voice calmer now but no less dangerous because of it.

You crossed your arms instinctively. “You noticed.”

“Do not start again, y/n.” His exhausted tone made you almost feel bad, almost.

“Then do not come here looking for another fight.”

His jaw tightened immediately. “You think this is amusing?”

“No,” you answered quietly, anger slipping through despite yourself. “Usually your anger isn’t amusing at all.” Another silence settled heavily between you. Your father moved toward the small table near the window where maps and books he had purchased for you lay scattered carelessly across the surface.

His fingers brushed one absentmindedly before he spoke again. “Do you know what pirates do with daughters of rival captains?” The question sent something uneasy twisting through your stomach instantly because you understood what he was really asking. Do you understand what kind of man Jungkook is? You did know what they did; rape, extortion, kidnapping, murder.

You swallowed carefully before answering. “I know what you do with rival captains.”

Your father’s eyes darkened immediately.

“You think because I taught you navigation and knives that the sea will spare you?” he asked quietly, turning toward you fully now. “It won’t. Men out there would tear kingdoms apart for leverage.”

“And what about you?” The words escaped before you could stop them. “What exactly am I here for besides leverage?” The room went completely still. Your father stared at you as if the question physically struck him somewhere deep beneath years of hardened cruelty. For one devastating second, genuine hurt crossed his face so openly it nearly shattered your anger completely.

Then it vanished again beneath the familiar coldness he wore like armor. “You are my daughter.”

“You are my captain before anything else.” The honesty between you suddenly felt unbearable. You watched his throat tighten slightly while he looked away toward the window where black ocean stretched endlessly beyond the glass.

“Do you think I wanted this life for you?” he asked eventually, voice rougher now. Your mother had died soon after your birth. There was no one your father trusted enough on land to keep you, so he took you with him, forever cursing you to a life of danger, uncertainty, and overall lack of peace.

“I think you stopped asking what I wanted years ago.” Another painful silence followed immediately. Somewhere above deck sailors shouted while ropes strained against wind, but inside your cabin everything narrowed painfully between you and the man who raised you to survive without ever teaching you how to feel safe.

“The Arirang has been spotted near Blackwater Port,” your father finally said, changing the subject so abruptly it almost gave you whiplash. “We dock tomorrow.”

Your pulse betrayed you instantly. Your father noticed, of course he did, he was surely not going to let this go. His eyes narrowed slowly while suspicion sharpened across his expression like a drawn blade.

“I know you looked at him too long,” he repeated quietly.

Heat rushed violently into your face. Damn you. “I told you i looked at an enemy ship, our enemy.”

“You were looking at him, the whole time. Not at the ship. I may be ageing, y/n, but my eyes do not deceive me yet.”

“That’s ridiculous.”

“Men like Jeon Jungkook survive because they know how to charm weakness out of people to get what they want.” Something sharp flared inside your chest immediately at his words.

“Maybe people follow him because he treats them like people, not like conveniences.” The second the words left your mouth, regret crashed into you hard enough to hurt. You didn’t even know Jungkook, only that he was an enemy, but here you were defending him?

Your father stared at you in complete silence afterward, but somehow that silence frightened you more than shouting ever could. The hurt disappeared entirely from his face then, replaced instead by something colder. Disappointment maybe. Betrayal.

“Careful,” he warned softly, and somehow the quietness of it made your stomach twist harder than rage would have. “You know nothing about that boy.”

“And you do?”

“Enough.” He stepped toward the door slowly before stopping beside it without turning around. “Blackwater Port is full of men waiting for opportunities. You will remain beside the crew while we dock.”

“I am not a prisoner.”

“No,” he answered flatly. “You are my daughter. Which means people will use you the second I stop protecting you.”

“Protecting?” You laughed bitterly despite yourself. “Is that what this is?” Your father finally looked back at you then, exhaustion dragging heavily across his face.

“One day you will understand the difference between control and fear.”

“And one day maybe you’ll understand they feel exactly the same.” The words landed brutally between both of you, he said nothing afterward, just opened the door and left quietly while your chest ached with emotions too tangled to separate properly.

The second he disappeared, frustration crashed through you violently enough to steal your breath. You shoved away from the bed immediately and crossed toward the window, pressing your palms against cold wood while staring out at the dark endless ocean. Everything inside you felt restless suddenly. Angry, lonely, guilty.

Because part of you understood your father’s fear even while resenting it completely. The world was dangerous for women like you. Men would use you against him if given the chance. But another part of you burned with fury, because survival had become your entire life before you even had the opportunity to choose anything else for yourself. And somewhere beneath all of that confusion lived the far more dangerous truth - the thought of seeing Jungkook again sent heat curling through your body so intensely it frightened you.

:<:<:<

Blackwater Port smelled like smoke, whiskey, sweat, seawater, and sin. You loved it instantly. Music spilled from crowded taverns into narrow streets while merchants shouted over one another selling stolen goods beside crates of fresh fish and expensive fabrics. Pirates wandered openly here because no kingdom held authority strong enough to stop them. Wanted posters decorated walls like artwork while drunken sailors laughed loudly enough to drown out crashing harbor waves nearby.

Your father hated this place, which made you enjoy it even more. “Stay close, miss.” one of the crewmen warned while escorting you through crowded streets lined with gambling dens and overflowing taverns.

You grinned, too focused on the wild ambience around you to consider his words. “I know how ports work.”

The crewman just shook his head, he had known you for long enough to know you weren’t sensible at all. “You know how trouble works too, and yet somehow you still run toward it.”

“Maybe trouble is more interesting than being guarded constantly.” To you, it was true. You were sick of being followed around everywhere even through adulthood, sick of being treated as if you could not handle yourself.

“Your father specifically said not to let you wander.”

“My father says many things.”

The sailor sighed dramatically like he already regretted being assigned this responsibility. You hid your smile beneath your hood while weaving through crowded market stalls overflowing with stolen jewelry and imported silks. Blackwater felt alive in ways most ports didn’t. Messy, dangerous, honest about its corruption instead of hiding it beneath noble titles and polished manners.

Women laughed loudly here, men fought openly. Nobody pretended morality mattered more than survival, it should have felt ugly and uncivilised. Instead, freedom pulsed through the streets like another heartbeat entirely. You nearly forgot all about the night before while wandering through crowded alleys drenched in golden lanternlight. You nearly forgot about Jungkook, too, until you noticed sailors whispering suddenly near the docks.

“The Arirang arrived this morning.” Your pulse stumbled immediately. “Captain Jeon’s crew took half the eastern taverns already.” Heat curled low in your stomach before you could stop it. The Arirang was here. Jungkook was here, somehow that realization felt less like danger and more like temptation.

:<:<:<

The Arirang cut through Blackwater Port like it had never needed permission to exist in anyone’s waters, and the moment it anchored, the entire harbor changed its rhythm without asking. You noticed it in the way conversations lowered without stopping, in the way merchants suddenly looked twice before shouting prices, in the way sailors stopped laughing mid-sentence as if something in the air had reminded them that survival was not guaranteed here.

The ship itself was darker than anything around it, sails heavy and still like they were holding their breath, ropes creaking softly under the wind as if even wood understood who had arrived. At its edge stood Jungkook, not announcing himself, not performing authority, simply being it in a way that made everything else feel temporary. He didn’t move much at first, just scanned the harbor slowly, deliberately, like he already knew every person watching him was pretending not to.

Then his gaze shifted, cutting through distance, noise, and motion with a precision that felt almost unfair. When it landed on you, everything inside your chest tightened instantly, sharp and involuntary, like your body recognized something your mind refused to name. You told yourself it was anger, you told yourself it was caution, but neither explanation accounted for the heat creeping beneath your skin.

Jungkook didn’t smile, didn’t change his expression dramatically, but something in his eyes shifted - like confirmation, like memory returning, like he had already carried your image with him since the storm. You hated how your breath slowed instead of quickened, how your body didn’t move away even though every instinct said you should. That single second stretched longer than it had any right to, and when he finally moved again, it was only slightly, enough to make it feel like the world had chosen sides.

Your father instantly stepped up beside you like a storm given human shape, and you felt his presence before he spoke, heavy and controlled in a way that always meant he was calculating damage before it happened. His eyes locked onto the Arirang immediately, narrowing in recognition so sharp it looked almost like pain disguised as anger. “So he’s here,” he said quietly, though nothing about his tone was calm beneath the surface.

You didn’t look at him, not yet, because your attention still refused to detach from the ship across the water, from the man who stood there like he had no fear of anything alive or dead. “He was always going to come here eventually,” you answered, your voice steadier than you felt, because admitting uncertainty in front of your father always felt like surrendering something permanent.

“You say that like you’ve been expecting him,” He replied, and there was something in that observation that made your throat tighten slightly.

“I expect all threats eventually,” you said carefully, finally turning your head just enough to meet his eyes. That was a mistake, because he was already watching you instead of the ship.

“That is not what I asked,” he said, quieter now, more controlled, and somehow worse because of it. The wind between you both felt colder suddenly, like it had heard too much. “Do not look at him again,” your father added, not as a request, not even as an order spoken loudly enough for others to hear, but as something more personal than either of you liked acknowledging. You almost laughed at that, almost, because it was already too late for commands like that to mean anything.

Across the harbor, Jungkook had shifted slightly again, and you felt it immediately before you saw it - that subtle awareness, like his attention had sharpened even further as if he could sense the exact moment your father had spoken. And then Jungkook looked at you again, properly this time, longer than before, slower than before, like he was studying something that had already decided not to leave his thoughts easily.

The distance between ships meant nothing anymore. Not in the way it should have. Not in the way logic insisted it did. Because the moment Jungkook held your gaze this time, it didn’t feel like observation - it felt like intrusion, like he had stepped too close without moving his body. You felt it in your ribs first, then lower, then everywhere at once, an unsettling awareness that made your pulse behave incorrectly. His expression didn’t change much, but there was something undeniably focused in it now, something that made your skin feel too exposed even though you were fully clothed, fully aware, fully in control of absolutely nothing.

You should have turned away, you should have stepped back toward your father, toward the safety of structure and authority and rules you understood. Instead, you stayed exactly where you were, and that fact alone made something dangerous settle into place between you and the ship. Jungkook leaned slightly forward on the ship’s railing, just enough to shift the angle of his presence, and your breath caught immediately when you realized he was no longer simply looking at you - he was acknowledging you. Like the storm had not ended for him, like it had simply changed shape.

His lips parted slightly as if he might say something, though distance made it impossible to hear, and still you had the irrational certainty that whatever he was thinking was meant specifically for you. Behind you, your father’s voice lowered again, tighter now. “We leave this port tomorrow.” You didn’t respond immediately, because your attention was still trapped across the water. “Do you hear me?” he pressed.

“Yes,” you answered finally, though it sounded like it came from somewhere else entirely. Jungkook’s gaze held yours a moment longer, and then - slowly, deliberately - he tilted his head just slightly, as if acknowledging something unspoken between you. It wasn’t a greeting, or invitation. Something sharper, something that felt far too close to understanding. Then he turned away from the edge of the ship, but not before that final second of contact burned itself into you like it had weight.

:<:<:<

Night fell over Blackwater Port like a curtain that did not care what it covered. The harbor lights flickered against dark water, ships creaking softly in their moorings, voices fading into tavern walls and alleyways. You should have been asleep, you should have been anywhere else. Instead, you found yourself walking alone along the quieter edge of the docks, hood drawn up, footsteps slow and deliberate as if you were testing whether the ground itself would betray you. You told yourself you were thinking clearly. You told yourself you were simply restless after the day’s tension. But every step felt like it was leading somewhere you had already been warned not to go.

And then you saw him again. Not on his ship this time. On the dock below it. Jungkook stood partially in shadow, one hand resting loosely against a wooden post as if he had been waiting without urgency, without doubt, without concern for time at all. When he looked up and saw you, there was no surprise in his face. Only confirmation again, like earlier. Like always. “You came,” he said, voice low enough that it barely carried over the water.

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thanks for reading :< stay tuned for next chapter