Parley Oneshots

Teddy Bear

hi... been a while, huh?

my bad...

this oneshot is based on the song Teddy Bear by Melanie Martinez (^up there)

TW: attempted murder

3rd Person P.O.V.

Harley and Peter made the perfect pair. Their relationship was the envy of all their friends, and they were happy in their perfect life.

...Until perfection was twisted.

It was odd. From the outside, nothing appeared to be wrong. Even Peter himself didn't notice a shift in their relationship. He and Harley were happy as ever!

But late at night, he started waking up to Harley muttering in his sleep.

"Gonna get you..."

"I'll kill... kill you..."

"I want to hear you scream..."

Okay, maybe that last one wasn't that strange. But the other two certainly were. What was Harley talking about? Who was Harley talking to?

Peter shook it off. His blond boyfriend was probably just having a weird dream. Harley was harmless, he wouldn't hurt a fly! He was just being paranoid. There was nothing to be afraid of.

Peter's attitude started to shift once he noticed more unsettling behavior.

While making the bed, he found a kitchen knife. Under Harley's pillow. Peter picked it up, bewildered to find it there. He gently slid a finger along the blade, nicking his skin.

"Ah!" He gasped, dropping the knife. It clattered to the ground, and Peter held his breath. Quickly, he bent down to pick it up– and spotted even more concerning evidence.

Underneath the bed, there were crumpled photographs, all of them displaying Peter in some way. Photos of the two of them together, photos of him alone, even a couple of him sleeping.

What. The. Fuck.

Peter wasn't sure if he should be scared or not. It was some pretty damning evidence, but it didn't make sense. Harley was such a sweet and caring guy... and he practically worshipped Peter (especially in the bedroom). He wouldn't do this... right?

But if not him, then who else?

Peter bit his lip anxiously, deciding to finish making the bed. He put the kitchen knife back in the kitchen where it belonged, hoping that doing so was the correct response.

~

That night, Harley was acting... odd.

He was sweaty, first of all. In their 65°F (~18°C) house. Wearing just a long sleeve shirt and jeans.

He also seemed nervous, which was uncharacteristic of him. Peter, ever trusting, chalked all of this up to a fever and sent his sweaty boyfriend to bed early. Harley complied without an argument.

When Peter went up to bed that night, Harley wasn't there. For a moment, his heart rate spiked– but then he relaxed when he saw a light under the bathroom door. Sure enough, the toilet flushed a few seconds later, followed by the faucet. Peter got into bed, yawning as Harley came back from the bathroom to join him.

"Hey there, darlin'," Harley greeted.

"Hi, Harls..." Peter murmured. Harley wrapped his arms around the brunette, sighing softly. For the first time since their relationship began, Peter was uncomfortable. He wiggled around in Harley's arms, trying to get comfortable.