Grumpy Vamp Harry (Patreon)

This is a Halloween-y grumpy vamp harry! 

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Halloween was in the air. 

The wind smelled of autumn, all crisp and crunchy as the oranges, reds, yellows, and browns of leaves took over the floors of the forest and the sidewalks lining roads. It was jacket wearing weather, long sleeves, thick cardigans, and soft sweaters. Thick knitted socks at night, when the temperature drops drastically and the windows that had been open all day allow the cool air to slither in, chilling to the bone. A time meant for cuddling, eating candies shaped like pumpkins and bats, watching horror films until the later hours of the morning.  

Y/N loved this time of year. 

Harry -- her brooding, soft vampire -- didn’t feel the same.

“God, stop being such a grumpy old man!” She grumbles at him, flopped over the handle of the trolly she was pushing through the aisles of the store. She’d asked him if he’d want her to bake pumpkin cookies or witch hat cookies and he had kissed his teeth, uttering something about “if they’re going to be Halloween related I’d rather have no cookies at all”. It’s not like that’d been the only thing he’d said either; the whole damn week he’d been so mean spirited about the holiday, and at first Y/N could just furrow her brows and brush it off. But now it was legitimately starting to irk her nerves, shooting him a sharp look when he turns around from in front of the basket to face her, “I’ll jus’ go over to Niall’s then, n’ bake them. At least he’d appreciate it.” 

Pouting his mouth, his own brows furrowed and his arms crossed over his chest, “Fine then,” he huffs petulantly, “Go ahead, I don’ care.” 

And Y/N couldn’t believe him! He usually is a little brat, but he’s a jealous little brat at that -- normally at the mere mention of her doing something with Niall opposed to him gets him a little huffy (it’s not like he was always against her hanging out with Niall -- she’d tell him to suck it up if it was like that -- but it’s only when she was supposed to do it with him first). Though when she looks at his face and flickers across, gauging hoe he’s really feeling, she can tell he doesn’t want that. As grumpy as he could be, Harry loves when she makes him cookies. Loves sitting on the counter and watching, and he loves when she lets him feed off her afterwards, and cuddling with a movie on. Especially since it’s so cold outside; he makes it his personal goal to warm her with his limbs tangled up in her own beneath the comfort of his favorite, thick soft knitted throw. He’d admitted all of this to her late one night, when he’d fed from her after she drank and he was feeling some of the dizzy secondhand effects of her alcohol. . .he’s always a bit of an open book when he’s feeling floaty. 

She thinks it’d be rather fun, to push his buttons a bit. There’s plenty of things that irk Harry and normally she doesn’t mess with him, but the grouchy vampire sort of deserved it. Y/N never so actively spreads her hatred for things that he’s fond of, so she only expects him to do the same. 

Which is why she nods her head, reaching for her phone with one hand and the pumpkin cookie cutter with the other, “Fine then,” she tells him, unlocking her phone, scrolling to Niall’s contact, “Set in stone, good as done -- g’na go make them with Niall instead.” 

It ruffles his feathers -- she can see it visibly, him breathing out through his nose and pretending like he was terrible interested in the bowtie pasta like he was thinking about getting it. He hates bowtie pasta though, he’d told her that once before, so she knows he’s irritated. Though a little bead of guilt drips into her stomach, she brushes it away and turns them towards the cookie cutter isle. 

She decided she wants to make them pumpkin shaped.

                                                                       .                .              .

“You’re a little devil you,” Niall tuts his tongue, shaking his head as he licks off the cookie dough from the whisk, kicking his feet back and forth as he sat atop the stool, watching her plot the dough an estimated two inches apart on the cookie pan, “You’re going to worry him to bits. Know how he gets.” 

Niall is still unaware of what Harry is, considering she had no clue on how to bring up the fact that her boyfriend was a vampire, who fed from her -- drank her blood-- to stay healthy, and has been around for two hundred some odd years. He did, however, know that Harry was quite the grumpy lug when he wanted to be, and while he was never overtly rude to Niall, it was obvious at parties when his brows would set in a furrow, he’d snuggle up in her throat, and close his eyes to block out the noise around him. He was more of a people watcher, so he rarely entertained conversation with anyone other than Y/N and Niall, and everyone kind of got used to his quiet, looming demeanor, at first believing him to be some mean prick that they couldn’t understand why Y/N would be with. That is, until they watched him fix every drink for her, take care of her when she’s feeling drunk and floaty, smiling only for her, nipping at her ears. The lingering glances became ones of envy then, and there’d been one or two times where boys and girls alike tried speaking to Harry when they’d separated and he’d merely brush them off. He’d be extra cuddly afterwards, and when she questioned him, he’d only, “Little human, this place is deplorable,” he would say quietly, “Tell me when you wish to go, and I’ll buy you a burger on the way home.” 

Y/N shakes her head, “Too much of a grouch for me tonight,” she hums, “Can be such a sourpuss when he wants to be when it comes to Halloween. Can’t stand it.” 

“Well have you ever asked him why he doesn’t like it?” Niall questioned, setting the whisk in the sink, leaning back into the seat, “Maybe he was like, broken up with one Halloween or something? Or just had a really shitty one and the whole season makes him frowny.” 

And well, Y/N hadn’t quite thought of it like that. Had merely written it off as Harry being spiteful and huffy like he had been towards her when they first met one another. Hadn’t even stopped to think that maybe something happened to him around this time, that would have him reacting so adversely to the thought. Guilt floods her almost instantaneously, her heart dropping some as she imagines him, sat at her flat waiting for her alone -- or worse, he’s gone to his own home; that’s how she knows he’s really mad.

“Okay, well now I sufficiently feel like the worst girlfriend to exist.” She huffs, tugging the oven mitt over her hand and taking the cookie sheet, popping the oven open and slipping it onto the rack. 

“Nooo, no way. Remember my girlfriend Clara? She fucked me brother and then turned ‘round and fucked me old best friend.” He tells her, “Now that’s a terrible girlfriend. Just go to him after this, yeah? Chat it out.” 

Y/N nods, reaching for her phone but Niall reaches out and places his hand over hers. 

“After we ice the cookies though.” 

                                                                    .                           .                                .

Harry is asleep on the couch when she gets there, cradling Marshmallow to his chest. His slumber doesn’t look peaceful in the slightest, the furrow in his brow evident and it makes her heart clench all too tight in her chest. He’d admitted to her once, in one of his softer moments, that he sleeps on the couch and waits for her so that it felt like she got back quicker. And she had left him alone to get back at him for not liking a holiday. How fucked was that? Doesn’t even know why he doesn’t like it, and it took Niall -- someone who is prime at being terrible in relationships and is always almost 100% certain that he is usually not in the wrong (Y/N always lets him know though) -- could see that before she did. It would only make sense that something might have happened to him to make him react so adversely to the season! How could she be so selfish? 

She kicks her shoes off, careful not to stir Marshmallow who would inevitably stir Harry. Tiptoeing her way to him, avoiding every creak in the floorboards that would shift beneath her weight, moving slowly to his side and setting her plate of cookies down on the coffee table. Bending down to her knees, she reaches out to push some of the hair that had flopped over his forehead (he’d been growing it out because she said she liked it), “Harry,” she murmurs gently, her insides overrun with butterflies as he blinks his eyes open to her, looking so incredibly soft with little puffs beneath his eyes, “I’m home.” 

Y/N doesn’t know if she expects a snide remark about her running off to Niall’s or what, but what she certainly doesn’t expect is for him to frown, “I’m sorry, Little human,” he tells her urgently, “I’m very sorry, I don’t mean to be so terrible to you over something you like. That is not fair of me.” He reaches for her hands, holding them in a tight grip, squeezing them, “From now on, I will make an effort to learn to appreciate this rather than being rude. I’ve done some extensive research on haunted houses that we can participate in, and there are cupcake brains that we can make for --” 

“Harry, Harry, Harry, slow down,” she cuts him off, pulling her knee up so she can straddle his waist, his torso a gentle incline from where he was propped up on the arm of the couch, so she leans into him, “You don’t -- you don’t need to apologize, Button, if anyone should be its me.” She reaches up, petting at his smooth, pale cheek with the pad of her thumb, “I never even bothered to ask why you didn’t like it. Just kept pushing how much I liked it on you, and that wasn’t fair of me either.” Leaning in, she nuzzles the tips of their noses together and she feels him soften and melt against her (the absolute teddy bear), “So I’m sorry.” 

He nods, sliding his arms around her waist and pulling her closer to him, “I accept your apology,” he notes, “I’m not quite certain of why I don’t like Halloween. I asked Louis, and he said that it is likely something happened to me in my human life that’s made me react adversely to it.” When her mouth warps into a frown, he is quick to reassure her, “But this is to no fault of your own! I need to give it a chance, I’ve only ever written it off, and I’d -- I’d like to give it a chance with you...that is, if you still want me to be apart of this with you.” 

“Of course I do, knobhead,” she leans in completely, tucking her face into his throat and nestling closer, “I want you to be apart of everything I do.” 

With a gentle kiss to the side of her head, he sits them both upright, “Then it’s settled,” he reaches over to the coffee table, taking out a piece of paper that Y/N had unknowingly laid the cookies atop of, presenting it to her with a small smile, “I have compiled a list of things that we can do together to make this the best October that you’ve ever had. Louis helped me come up with a few but most of them are my ideas.” 

She takes a moment to look over the paper, a grin broadening over her features as she reads the top, Halloween-y ideas for my little human followed by a list. 

Carving Pumpkins (apparently this is very important)

Drink Apple Cider

Bake brain cupcakes

Bake other things that are Halloween like (humans love this, y/n probably will too)

Haunted houses (may be boring, but scared human = extra cuddling. That is good.) 

Decorating with perceived “spooky” items like bats (even though they eat mosquitos and this is beneficial for humans)

Pumpkin patches for pumpkin picking for more pumpkin carving

Tell scary stories (like the French-town boogieman from 1804)

Horror films and candy eating (do not let her teeth rot though!!!! Very important) 

Bob for apples

Get Marshmallow a costume

Trick or Treating???? (don’t know what this is, but will participate)

Whatever else she would like to do

Remind her I am having a wonderful time

Y/N could cry; her eyes growing teary with the prospect of him sitting on the phone with Louis and coming up with a list of things he think she might like. It makes her insides glow warm from the amount of heart he had put into it, with little scratches and scribbles over the page like he was doodling as he thought. And the way he is presenting it to her now, smiling and proud -- she leans forward and kisses him. Melds their mouths together, feeling the softness of his lips against her own, and suckling at the plushy bottom one. Harry kisses back easily, letting the paper fall loosely from his fingers as he reaches to hold onto her instead. 

When they part, she doesn’t move very far away, tilting their foreheads together and sighing out, “I love you so much.” 

“I love you more, Little human,” he pecks another kiss to her mouth, and when he draws away, he looks a little sheepish. 

“What is it?” She asks him. 

“May I have one of your cookies?”