Work Text:
Harry knew she was back on the Isle, of course he did. As sure as a croc goes tik tik tok. Harry Hook can feel the air on the Isle change when Mal comes back.
Seeing her at Curl Up & Dye was the nicest surprise. Mal always looked delicious in purple. She looked, thankfully, nothing like what they showed on TV. Harry saw no blonde or pink or goody-good-good. She was Mal and she was dark and deep— and if that kid hadn’t been there he would’ve had her right there in the salon.
But the kid was there and Mal wasn’t in the mood to play. So he took the gum and slunk away to the not-so-secret hideout.
Mal’s always been a vision of chaos. She comes in and wreaks havoc on the area.
Harry would feel a touch of concern for the girl, if this wasn’t exactly what he wanted. Truth be told, the all those broadcasts had scared him. His Mal being so calm and docile. She was sweet as a peach and so so perfectly good. That wasn’t Mal. Mal was rotten. She was ruthless and merciless. She hungered for power and magic. She was even a bit mad. Mal tasted like fairy dust and mayhem.
When Mal ruled the Isle, she ruled not through leadership or anything so simple. She kept her power by keeping all opposition in a state of disarray. Some VK gets it in their head that they’re gonna take her supplies. That was fine with Mal, she just lit them and the supplies on fire. Mal wasn’t afraid of lose-lose. Mal wasn’t afraid of anything.
Harry can practically taste Mal’s frustration in the air as she shatters a lamp.
“Such anger!” He teases. She turns her vibrant green gaze on him, shoulders heaving.
“Get the fuck out,” she demands. He only smirks.
“But if I leave, who is gonna help you, Princess,” he purrs as he takes a lock of her purple hair in his hand.
“I don’t need your help Hook,” she almost convinced him that he really is unwanted. Almost. But lucky for Mal, Harry can see the Queen of the Isle still in her.
“But if I don’t help you, who will?” She begins taking steps back as he advances on her. “Your prince? Tell me, Princess, is he really as much of a beast as they say?” Mal’s back bumps into the wall behind her, halting her retreat. Harry uses the opportunity to keep her there. He pins his free hand to the wall above her head and strokes her cheek with his hook.
“Ben’s a perfect gentleman,” Mal says stoically. Harry can’t help the laugh that escapes him at the sheer ridiculousness of her statement. When has Mal ever cared about gentlemen ? Bringing her back may be harder than he originally thought, but he is nothing if not persistent. It’s how she let him into her bed in the first place… well that and the sheer amount of blood he spilled demanded she pay him some attention.
“It’s so funny, Mal,” Harry leans in close, pulling her hair back with his hook. He can feel her shiver beneath him as he whispers in her ear, “I kept watching you on TV, standing next to that prince and I couldn’t help but wonder if he knew.”
Mal fights the urge to lean into Harry. His presence is imposing. He makes her want to… Mal can’t let this happen. If she loses control of herself then she really will be unworthy.
“Knows what Hook?” She says as she pushes off the wall and pulls out of his grasp.
He slams her hips none too gently back into the wall, pinning her body beneath his hand and hook. It shouldn’t excite her, but it does. His blue eyes are piercing and promise such a touch of insanity if she slips.
Harry leans into Mal’s face, savoring the hitch in her breath. “Does he know that his perfect little princess likes to set people on fire?” He takes his hand to her throat at that moment, lightly placing a hold there. Her hands fly up to his, but she doesn’t push him away. “Does he know just how powerful you are?” He strokes her beautifully pale throat. “Does he know how much you like it when I fuck you, Princess?”
“Don’t call me that,” Mal sounds firm, but he can feel her rapidly beating pulse beneath his fingers. Her eyes are dark and half- lidded. Harry ghosts his lips across hers.
“I thought you wanted everyone to know that’s what you were, Princess,” He whispers into her mouth. Harry can practically taste the magic off her. Mal’s electric. She’s fire. She’s chaos. She’s everything.
Mal can feel a cord in her being pulled tighter and tighter. She feels intoxicated by Harry’s presence. Time and distance made her forget this. Ben never gave her this. Ben never made her twitchy with anticipation.
Ben.
Mal closes her eyes and takes a deep steadying breath. Only for Harry to tighten his grip, making her breath catch in her throat.
“Ah ah ah, none of that Mal,” he drawls, “I can’t have you thinking too much.” Harry seems so in control, and yet Mal is so out of control. “What happened to you Mal?” He loosens up his grip.
“What do you mean?” She can hear the blood rushing in her ears. The only thing she can focus on is him.
“Why’d you leave, Mal?”
“I was summoned—”
“No Mal,” he flexes his fingers. That was the wrong answer. “Why did you leave this?”
She panics then. Her hands move to his chest and attempts to look anywhere but his piercing gaze. “I just did— I can’t be doing this— it’s not all—“ Harry cuts her off with a flick of the hook guiding her face back to his. It’s the same eyes that looked onto her from afar as her fires on the Isle raged, the same eyes that bored their wickedness into her soul during the dead of night, the same eyes that always fueled her madness. She can’t lie to those eyes.
“I just wanted to be good ,” she whispers.
Harry smiles softly down at her. “But you are good Mal,” he drags his hooks down her curves. “You’re good with fire, and magic. You’re a good Queen,” he whispers sensually.
“I’m not Queen,” she protests.
“Yes, you are Mal.”
“No, I’m not.”
“You’re Queen of the Isle.”
“That’s not enough!” There it is- Why his precious Mal is playing games. “I don’t want just the Isle,” she continues, “I want everything.” Mal looks crazed and pained and beautiful.
“You will be,” Harry states. Mal just shakes her head.
“I’m not good enough to be Queen of Auradon.” Harry tips his head back and laughs. Mal gets lost in the sound.
“That’s rich, Mal. You’re even better! Good, good, good— who is tallying up all the goodness of the world?” Harry is giddy. He has her now. “No one.”
He yanks her towards the couch and pulls her to straddle his lap.
Mal’s hands settle on his shoulders and she keeps herself upright, not sitting directly on him. Harry drops his hook to the side. One hand takes one of hers from his shoulders and slides it to his chest, the other curls around her neck. He has to look up at Mal now.
“I’ll make you Queen, Mal,” he drags her face to his, “I’ll make you Queen of everything.”
Her pupils are blown wide. “Do you promise?” She wants this. She wants the fantasy and the reality. She wants the pleasure and the pain.
“Of course, you don’t need to play these silly charades. I’d give it all to you for free, you don’t even need to change your hair color,” he lightly jokes. Mal is enraptured.
Harry’s hands find their way to her hips and gently push her down to settle on top of him. They both shudder at the contact.
“C’mon Mal,” Harry lightly strokes her back as she arches slightly into him. “Do you want to play by their rules?” He pulls his chest flush with hers as he drags her face to his. “Or ours?” He whispers to her lips.
The kiss is searing and hot. Mal’s hands cup his face as she succumbs to pleasure. Harry keeps one hand on her ass, keeping them pelvis to pelvis. The other hand buries itself in her hair.
Mal feels frantic and needy. It’s been forever. Ben never—ever made her feel this way. Good Ben. Sweet Ben. Stupid Ben.
Harry smirks up into this kiss and her teeth pull on his bottom lip. He pulls himself away to flip her under him.
“It’s so nice to have you back, Mal.”