Peter Parker Imagines

10. Ex-Friends - Part One

A/N: Another series, hope you guys like, even though the title is really crappy lol. Don't forget to send in requests if you want :D

Warnings: Blood, Language (like more than usual lmao)

"What? How the hell does X equal 23?" you grumbled to yourself, dropping your head and your notebook and letting out a groan.

It was almost one in the morning, and you had a massive headache from studying for a test you were destined to fail. You were actually pretty decent at math, being in an advanced course, but lately you had been distracted and forced to cram for the test tomorrow.

There was classical music playing in the background because you heard that helped with studying, but at this rate, you weren't sure anything could help. 

Clicking the home button on your phone, you let out a frustrated sigh when you saw that you had been studying for a total of five hours without break. Your bed looked incredibly inviting, and all you wanted to do was crash into it, even if it meant getting a huge F on tomorrow's math test.

"Maybe I could set an alarm to wake after a quick nap," you debated, leaning back against your chair and frowning at your studying notes. All the numbers were starting to blur together, probably due to your drowsiness.

When you heard a tap against your window, you jumped so badly that your phone fell out of your hand and into your lap as you stared wide-eyed at the figure on your fire escape.

Spider-Man was leaning against your window, one hand raised to tap his knuckles against the glass. His other arm was wrapped tightly around his waist, and the amount of blood and grime and dirt on him made your heart skip a beat.

"Holy fuck," you muttered when you jumped up to the window, sliding it open with ease.

"What's up," was all he said before falling toward you when the window wasn't there to support him.

"Whoa!" you held onto him, his body pretty much going limp against yours. "What the shit happened?"

"Not exactly sure," he replied, his voice sounding dazed, "Uh, can I come in?"

"Yeah?" Your voice trailed off slightly as you helped him in the window, taking note of his gasps of pain when he moved a wrong way. "How come you chose my apartment, of all places?"

"Uh," he thought for a minute while you helped him onto your bed, "Not entirely sure about that either."

"You sound pretty confused tonight," you stated, giving him a look, "Someone must've beat the crap out of you."

"What, does the blood give it away?" He asked sarcastically, making you laugh.

"So, what can I do for you?" Your voice became slightly nervous when you realized the Spider-Man was in your room, bleeding out on your own bed. "Call a hospital?"

"No!" He said quickly, grabbing onto one of your hands, "No hospitals."

"Alright," you gently tugged your arm from his grip, glancing toward your bathroom. "Well, you need some help cleaning up your wounds by someone. I might have a first aid kit?"