My (Super)Hero [COMPLETE]

Chapter 17: Butterflies

Peter's POV

My stomach's been in knots all day. I'm way more nervous about tonight than I was for homecoming- or anything, for that matter. Well, Germany was pretty nerve wracking, but not like this.

May's been trying everything and anything to get me to calm down, but I just can't. Putting on Star Wars helped a little bit, but then it just reminded me of Y/N.

Shawarma! It's already 4 o'clock, and the thing starts at 7. I'm not ready for this.

I mean, yeah, I have the tux Mr. Stark's letting me use, I found my dress shoes that I left at school when I ditched homecoming, and May gelled my hair for me, so it doesn't look as messy as it does usually. But I feel like I'm not ready for tonight. It's hard to explain.

I'm also kinda uneasy about Herman Shultz, the Shocker guy. He's been a lot more active lately, which I've been able to monitor thanks to Droney, but I'm worried something's gonna happen tonight. You know how it goes, bad guys always plan their 'big move' when they know the most people will be out of their way.

What if he does strike tonight? I can't just leave Y/N.

Her dad will be there, May will cover for me. Right?

I don't even know what he's up to. I have a hunch, but I just hope I'm wrong.

Y/N's POV

I'm beside myself excited.

I've never been to a gala before, and I have no idea what to expect, so I've been brushing up on my etiquette while MJ's been helping me get ready. Ethan's spending the night at the infamous Brad Davis', so we don't need to worry about him. MJ says she's cool with helping get ready, and that she wants me to tell her everything from tonight. It's great with her, because she's completely honest with me about everything, and we're really getting close. It's nice to have a friend who doesn't keep secrets.

"Y/N, would you stop squirming? I have to finish your hair," MJ's been trying to get me to look somewhat presentable. I never knew she was so good with hair and makeup. As it turns out, she's fantastic at it, and the only reason she doesn't use it herself is she "doesn't want to conform to our society's oppressive standards for female beauty." I support her fully, and we're planning on both doing bed-heads and no makeup on Monday as a sort of silent protest. But for now, she's having the time of her life primping me, and I couldn't be more grateful because I am the definition of clueless about makeup. Mom usually did that for me when I needed more than concealer and mascara.

She did a natural-glam look for my makeup and an elegant updo with curled tendrils to frame my face and drape over the back of my neck. I mean, it's probably the most makeup I've ever worn, but I think I look kind of nice? Maybe. Nah, it's still me.

(All of you are BEAUTIFUL and don't let anyone tell you different)

"MJ, this looks amazing, thank you!" I turn around and hug her.

"No, stop! You'll mess up all my hard work!"

"Oh, right. Sorry," I back up a little bit, catching a glimpse of myself in my bedroom mirror. "This seriously looks amazing, MJ."

"No, you look amazing. I just enhanced what you already have. Now put on your dress so I can see the full thing before I have to leave!"

"Okay, okay," I run to my closet and grab the dress, running equally as quickly to the bathroom to change.

A few minutes later, I come out of the bathroom but stop in my tracks just before I open my bedroom door. I can hear voices inside. Who's MJ talking to? I hesitantly open up the door and step inside. I'm immediately met with a familiar squeal which I haven't heard in a long time...