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Elizabeths (Chapter I)

Pairing: Bad boy!Peter Parker x Reader

Warning: Cursing, death, mentions of suicide

Summary: Y/n is part of her high school’s most powerful and most popular clique, but she disapproves of the other girls’ behavior. When Y/n meets the new boy in school, Peter Parker, and begins dating him, what she has known to be her clique begins to unravel. Starting with the death of the clique leader, Liz Allan, one by one, people Y/n doesn’t like begin to die by her and Peter’s hands. Soon, she realizes that Peter is killing students he hates and begins to try to foil his plans, all while clashing with the new clique leader, Elizabeth “Betty” Brant.

Author: Dizzy

A/N: This is a Peter Parker AU I thought of doing. It’s a Heathers AU!!! This is going to follow a similar plot to Heathers, but of course, I won’t keep everything the exact same. Here, we meet our protaganist, Y/n, and our love interest, JD Peter.

Masterlist Request Any Of These Peter Parker/Tom Holland Masterlist

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Dear Diary,

Today, Liz told me she teaches people about “real life”.

She said, “Real life sucks losers dry. If you wanna fuck with the eagles, you gotta learn to fly.”

I asked, “So you teach people how to fly?”

She said, yes.

I said, “You’re beautiful.”

“Y/n,” a voice pulled you away from your writing as they kicked your side.

You pulled your glasses off and looked up at the owner of the yellow skirt and white tights that kicked you.

“What the fuck, Lizzie?” You snapped, pushing Lizzie Jones’ foot away from you.

“Sorry, Y/n. Liz needs you in the commons. She said it’s urgent. Back me up, Betty.”

“Yeah, Y/n, Liz said you have to hit the commons pronto.” Betty stammered, her arms tight around her books.

“Fine. I’m coming.” You rose from your spot on the stairs and followed the other girls. “Do you know what it’s about?”

Lizzie looked back at you. “How the hell am I supposed to know? She just said to get you.”

As you turned the corner and into the madhouse that was the common area, you caught sight of the brown hair that was tied back with a red scrunchie.

“Hello, Liz.” You spoke softly, almost submissive to the girl.

“Y/n, there you are.” Liz smiled, her voice sickly sweet which made you think she’d want something from you.

If you knew anything about Liz Allan, it was that she always, always was nice when she wanted something from you.

“What is it you need, Liz?” You asked, crossing your arms over your chest.

“I need you to help me get into Brad’s email to send Ass-trid Dumptruck. I want you to help me write a hot and heavy but realistically low-key essay that Astrid can’t help but read right now.”

“Liz, I don’t have anything against Astrid Dunstock.”

“You don’t have anything for her, either.” Liz replied, shoving the laptop into your hands. “Just get into the email so I can write her a sexy letter to fuel her shower nozzle masturbation for weeks.”

“Let me think about it.”

“Don’t think.” Liz scoffed. “Just do it.”

You groaned as the other girls giggled, holding the laptop in one arm and attempting to type with the other. You furrowed your brow as you took in a deep breath, annoyed at your own inability to fight against peer pressure.

“Betty, Y/n can’t possibly type with one hand. Bend over so she can work.” Liz smirk.

Betty gave you a look as you mouthed that you were sorry before the girl bent over in front of you and you began to type on the laptop, finding your way to Brad’s email.

This wasn’t the first time Liz was having you send emails from Brad’s account, so you already knew the password, mumbling to yourself about how ignorant Liz could be as you pulled up the draft email page.

“Alright, Liz. You’re in.”

“Why don’t you type it up, Y/n? My nails just got done and it’s hard to type with them.” Liz said, wiggling her fingers in front of you, her nails long and sharp like claws and done in her signature red color.

You knew she was lying, as she could never tell the truth. She just didn’t want to have the evidence trailed back to her.

“Come on, Liz. I don’t want to do this.” You said, throwing your arms down and turning to the other girl.

“Do you think I give a shit?” Liz snapped back. “Just write the fucking email and then we can move on with our lives. Besides, you’re the only one who could possibly get down Brad’s diction.”

“Go fuck yourself.” You mumbled as you turned around, feeling Betty giggle from beneath you.

“Would you like to speak up, Y/n?” Liz asked, moving to look at you from the side.

You gave her a smirk. “No, Liz. Now, why don’t you tell me what to write?”

Liz cleared her throat before speaking softly, her lips brushing against the hair by your ear, her breath hot and her voice soft, sending shivers down your spine.

“Okay, Y/n, why don’t we keep it short and simple? Get in and get out, just like Brad would.” Liz said.

“And you know that all too well.”

You could feel Liz press her sharp nail into your cheek, the pressure so sharp you thought she was about to draw blood. Your proud attitude quickly diminished as she huffed, taking her nail off your face as you sighed and quickly typed up the email.

“Alright. I’m done writing.” You announced, straightened up as you picked the laptop off of Betty’s back, and handed the laptop to Liz. “Just hit send and Astrid will get it right away.”

“Come on people, let’s give that leftover lunch money to people without lunches! Those tater tots you threw away are a delicacy in Africa! Their Thanksgiving dinner!” You could hear Ned scream into the crowd of students in the common area as you took a seat beside LIz at your regular lunch table.

“God, aren’t they fed yet?” Lizzie asked, taking a bite out of a french fry she took off your plate before flinging it back down on the plate, the ketchup splattering on the rest of your food. “Do they even have Thanksgiving in Africa?”

“Oh, yeah. Pilgrims, Indians, tater tots.” You replied as you ate the other half of the french fry, “I heard it’s a real party continent.”

Liz rustled in her bag beside you, gaining your attention as you watched her pull out a clipboard and slam it down on the table. She gave you a smile as she proudly flipped her hair over her shoulder while she watched your face fall and you internally groaned.

“Y/n, guess what time it is?”

“Ouch, lunchtime poll.” You guessed, setting down the milk carton in your hand as you turned to her. “So, what’s the question?”

“Yeah, what’s the question?” Betty asked, earning a swift kick from Liz.

“Goddamn, Betty, you were on FaceTime with me when I thought of it.”

“Oh, right. I forgot.”

“Such a pillowcase.” Liz scoffed, pulling you up with her as she stood up and began leading you through the crowded tables and into the large aisle of the common room.

“This wouldn’t be about that bizarre dream you had the other night that were blabbing about on the phone would-”

“Oh, shut up. It is.” Liz cut you off. “I told Ned if he gave me another political topic, I would spit on him and he said if I didn’t want to do that, I’d have to think of my own poll.”

You shook your head, looking away from her as you scanned the large room. Your eyes landed on a boy you’ve never seen before, and being in a small town, a guy that looked like him, you would’ve recognized.

He caught your gaze, the boy who reminded you of James Dean as he slouched in his blue plastic chair, his leather jacket puffing out to the side to reveal the simple t-shirt he was wearing underneath. You couldn’t tell if it was the swooped dark brown hair or the Rebel Without a Cause lunchbox sat in front of him that made you think of the long dead actor, but the boy certainly knew how to get anyone’s attention.

Transfixed on the boy across the room, you felt a sharp pain in your knee as you crashed into the blue chair of one Cindy Moon. You grunted softly, your hand reaching towards your knee as you bent down to rub it soothingly.

Cindy turned, pulling her cardigan sweater tightly around her as the rest of her less stylish friends also turned as well, causing you to blush as you straighten up slightly, still a bit bent over as Cindy studied you for a moment.

“Oh gosh, sorry, Y/n.”

“Oh, Cindy…” You replied softly, the embarrassment hinting in your tone. “I’m, uh, sorry I didn’t make it to your birthday party last month.”

“That’s okay,” Cindy shook her head, “Your mom said you had a big date. Hell, I’d miss my own birthday party for a date.”

You laughed lightly with her for a moment, glancing over at Liz who was growing impatient as she watched the interaction.

“Don’t say that.” You playfully hit Cindy’s shoulder.

“Oh, Y/n/n, while you’re here, I found this the other day.” Cindy beamed, picking up her purse and rummaging through it until she pulled out a photo and handed it to you. “I think it's Halloween in second grade.”

“Oh, where we got so sick from the candy that a single spin on that carousel at the Halloween fair-”

“-had us throwing up uncontrollably.” Cindy laughed as she finished your sentence, the warm interaction between you two cut prematurely by Liz’s swift swing pulling you away and causing you to drop the photo.

“Hey, I was talking to someone!” You snapped, tearing away from her.

“Color me impressed. I thought you were finished playing Barbies with Cindy Moon.” Liz snapped.

If you didn’t know her any better, you’d have thought Liz was somehow jealous of your interaction with Cindy.

You followed her like a duckling, almost prancing to keep up with her as you approached the Country Club. You hated them just as much as the next, the daddy’s money boys and girls who were so pretentious they dressed as if they were always at the country club, hence their name.

“Oh, great, here comes Liz.” You could hear Brittany say as you and Liz approached.

You could feel Liz’s unabashed false pleasantness radiating off of her. You hated the Country Club as much as the next guy, but never as much as Liz Allan did.

“Hi, Brittany, love the blouse. Oh, let me steal a tater.” Liz greeted, her tone the same sickly sweet as the one she had had with you earlier in the lunch period.

Brittany watched with a similar fake smile plastered on her face as Liz turned her back to her, now facing you as she pushed the tater tot into her mouth with a single finger, doing a vomiting gesture before chewing and swallowing the tater tot and turning to Brittany and her group.

“Thanks. I got it at H&M.” Brittany smiled, turning to her group and back at Liz. “I totally blew my allowance.”

“That’s pretty very. Now check this out, David Dobrik gives you a Tesla and $2 million dollars and the same day you get to be on his channel, aliens come to earth and say they’ll blow up the planet in two days. What are you going to do?”

The table looked stunned for a moment and you watched as Flash chuckled, leaned back in his chair and put his sunglasses on. You rolled your eyes at the dramatic action as he started to speak.

“That’s easy. I’d just hand the wad over to my father. He has the best stock broker in the state. And then I would take that Tesla out for a joyride. Just me, babes, and a car to drive while I fuck a chick in the passanger’s seat.”

“How charming.” You rolled your eyes. “The world will be Pompeii in two days and you’re going to invest your money?”

“Man, my father’s broker could triple it, double it in two days.”

“If I had that money,” Brittany cut in, “I’d give it all to the poor.”

“Wow. You’re beautiful.” You smiled with a nod as Liz jerked you by the arm, pulling you away from the flabbergasted Brittany.

“If you’re openly going to be a bitch…”

“I’m sorry, it’s just why can’t we talk to other kinds of people?” Your voice coming out whinier than you anticipated.

“Fuck me gently with a chainsaw. Do I look like Mother Teresa to you?” Liz asked, her tongue sharp as you walked alongside her. “If I did, I wouldn't mind talking to the Geek Squad.”

Your gaze followed along the extended arm and pointer finger of Liz’s body as you both made eye contact with one of the boys at the table, causing him to spill his milk all over himself in shock.

“Oh my god, Elizabeth Number One just made eye contact with me.” He blurted out, stumbling over his words as another boy chuckled.

“It must be love.” The other one replied before you tore your gaze away from them and looked up at Liz, who always seemed to tower over you with her bright red high heeled boots.

“Doesn’t it bother you that everyone at school thinks you’re a piranha?” You confront her, her eye roll in response making you feel like back peddling what you said.

“Like I give a shit.” She snapped so matter-of-factly. “They all want me as a friend or a fuck. I’m worshipped at Midtown and I’m only a junior.”

You groaned. “Just pretend you’re doing charity work. Like saving a couple of oiled up penguins in the Dawn commercials. Like this shit will look good on college essays.”

Liz looked at you in surprise, returning your statement with an eye roll as you had her convinced and she knew it. “Whatever. I don’t believe this shit. We’re going to a Columbia University party and I’m brushing up my conversational skills with the scum of the school.”

Dear Diary,

Sometimes I want to kill Liz Allan. She’s such a bitch saying, “I’m tall, dark, and beautiful. I’m such an individual because I look like a girl in a toothpaste commercial. I’m so hot Post Malone wanted to see my tits for backstage passes.” Damn, you Liz. You’re not special or a princess. All teenagers are the same. Didn’t you see Breakfast Club?

You pull the clipboard from Liz’s arms as you guide her to the Geek Squad with your hand on her lower back, in a similar way to how your father would push you along in lines at the grocery store. You two stood there awkwardly for a moment before elbowing Liz, causing her to jump.

“Alright. This is called a lunchtime poll. We ask you a question, you answer honestly. Now, David, whatever his name is, gives you a Tesla and 2 million dollars. When you go to do the big youtube thing, aliens come to the earth and say they’re going to blow it up in two days. What do you do?” Liz muttered, her attitude more sour than it was only moments before.

“I’d go to the Pyramids.” Brian replied, the bony head of the Geek Squad. “With a girl.”

“Where are you going to get the girl?” the boy beside him asked. “Amazon?”

You couldn’t help but crack a smile as you looked at another boy. “What about you, Lucas?”

“I told you she knew my name.” He muttered to Brian, who in turn, elbowed him in the side. “I’d change my life. Get a new haircut, new clothes, revamp like in She’s All That.”

“How sad!” Liz exclaimed. “Blowing all your cash to make up for a lack of popularity. And the reference to a chick flick! Did you see it with your mom? Or your new boyfriend?”

You grabbed Liz by the arm and yanked her from the table and into the large aisle again, right where she had scolded you only minutes before.

“If you’re openly going to be a bitch…” You trailed off, your tone harsh as Lizzie approached.

“Ass-trid’s reading the email, you’re going to want to see this.” Lizzie laughed, grabbing you both by the wrists and dragging you behind her as she beelined to where Betty stood, back up against a pillar.

“Oh god, here we go!” Betty giggled as you four began to watch.

You suddenly felt sick. You wanted nothing to do with what was about to happen as Astrid rose from her seat at her empty lunch table and made her way towards the Jocks, where Brad sat, munching on his tater tots. You couldn’t understand what Astrid was saying as she pointed to her phone screen, allowing Brad to read it. You flinched as the boy erupted in laughter, food and spit flying from their mouths as they howled, leaving Astrid to run away in horror, leaving you with a pit in your stomach as you jumped away from your friends and into Ned’s table.

“A penny for your thoughts! But, a dollar could save a life! Hi, Y/n. A five keeps the neighborhood alive! But, a ten will bring back the dead!” Ned shouted, the little chant ringing in your ears as you made eye contact with the James Dean boy again, his look as horrified as your own.

Liz shoves a twenty dollar bill into Ned’s hand as she approaches you.

“Shut up.” She orders as the boy grows quiet. “You wanted to be part of the most powerful clique in school and if I wasn’t already the head of it, I’d want the same thing.”

“I’m sorry, what are you going on about?” You snapped, turning to her.

“You heard me. That episode with the email back there was for us all to enjoy, but for some reason you are determined to ruin my day.”

“Oh, I’m sorry, let me fix that.” You replied before laughing mockingly. “We made a girl consider suicide! What a laugh! What a scream! I’ve never seen something so funny!”

“Come on, you jerk. You used to have a sense of humor.”

You let Liz guide you back to where Lizzie and Betty stood, talking about whatever book Betty had begun reading as your eyes landed back on the boy you’d found yourself so infatuated with.

“God, Y/n, drool much?” Lizzie asked, as Liz groaned. “His name’s Peter Parker. He’s in my American History class.”

“Give me back the clipboard.” You ordered, pulling the clipboard from Liz’s hands.

You sauntered away from the girls, scoffing as Lizzie began making oinking and sexual sounds in your direction and by how fast they were cut off, you knew Liz had probably slapped the other girl to get her to stop.

“Well, hello, Peter Parker.” You greeted, stopping at a halt on the other side of his table.

Now standing in front of the boy, you realized he looked less like James Dean and more like a young Jaime Bell.

“Greetings and Salutation. Call me Peter. Are you an Elizabeth?” He asked, the smile on his face a bit cocky.

You chuckled, a light blush dusting your cheeks. “No, I’m a Y/n. L/n. This may sound like a stupid question…”

“There are no stupid questions.”

“Okay. Get this, David Dobrik gives you 2 million dollars and a Tesla and on the same day he’s supposed to give it to you in a youtube video, aliens invade earth and say they’re going to blow up the planet in two days. What do you do?”

Peter chuckles, his laugh light and airy as he runs a hand through his hair.

“That’s the stupidest question I’ve ever heard.” He replies, his brow rising as he answers the question curiously. “Probably would just row a boat out into the middle of the lake. Bring along my sax, a bottle of tequila, and some Bach.”

“How very.”

“Come on, Y/n!” Lizzie calls from behind you.

“I’ll be right there! God!” You roll your eyes as you yell, turning your attention back to Peter. “Duty calls. Bye.”

“Later.”

Dear Diary,

I take back what I said about killing Liz Allan. I don’t think I’m ready for jail just yet, not with a boy like Peter Parker around. Maybe we’re not all the same after all.

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