Requested by simplysonet: "What about a mashup of "Euphoria" and "Spiderman". So, basically, the reader is a drug addict like Rue, and is going through a depressive state and built it off from there"

(As is suggested in the request, this imagine contains heavy drug use, mentions of suicide and mentions of depression, so if you're triggered by any of those things, please don't read this imagine. Thank you.)

Stars danced on the ceiling, changing colour and size every few seconds as they filled my otherwise white bedroom ceiling. Spirals whipped around them, creating the perfect image, made even better by the fact that it was brought on by heroin. I continued to stare up at the ceiling, my body lying lifeless on my bedroom floor as my limbs continued to seize up. My eyes continued to flicker over the stars that flew around above me, the breaths that left my throat becoming smaller and smaller as the heroin made its way to my heart. My arm had become numb what felt like years ago, meaning that the scratch of the needle that was still puncturing my skin and inside my vein was but a long-distant memory. And that's the way I liked it. My breath continued to shallow, my heart starting to slow down as I felt death approaching. After all, a heroin overdose felt like the perfect way for me to go, it being the substance that drew me into this depression in the first place. What was it that they said, the only sure way to kill yourself is to drink the poison that got you there? Did anyone say that? I wasn't sure. I would have shaken my head to rid myself of the thoughts if my neck was actually listening to me. It wasn't, rendering me trapped lying on the floor and staring up at my star-filled ceiling. My lips subconsciously curled into a small smile as in my drug-induced state, I started to think about my boyfriend, Peter. He was the closest thing that I'd ever had to family, especially after my dad had died and my mom and sister had become nothing but fucking horrible assholes towards me. And that was before I had started taking drugs. Of course Peter knew about my problem and did everything in his power to help me, but being Spiderman, I'd often get entire days to shoot up whilst he was doing his patrol, giving me the perfect opportunity without him intervening. Of course he only intervened because he loved me and didn't want me to hurt, but he never quite understood that heroin was my way to stop hurting. Well, Peter was my way now, Peter was my new drug, but that didn't stop the addiction to the old one. I started to lose consciousness, my eyelids growing heavy as my breathing became so shallow that I wasn't even sure if I was breathing anymore. If there was one thing that I'd change about this, it would be that Peter would be by my side. Of course I wouldn't want him to see me die, especially this slowly, but to see his beautiful face one last time would be the perfect end to my life. To be able to run my hands through his hazel curls and to stare into his stunning brown orbs whilst I took my last breath would be my perfect death. But I couldn't have that. I couldn't put him through that. So, I had taken the next best thing and decided to commit suicide by heroin overdose. It was no Peter, but it was something. Suddenly, I heard my door fly open, though, in my drug-induced haze, it was nothing more than a muffled bang. I flicked my eyes to the sound, tears immediately starting to fill them as I saw Peter rush towards me. He collapsed on his knees next to me and pulled me into his arms, holding my face in his hand.

"Y/N! Y/N, can you hear me?!" I could tell that he was yelling, but the heroin coursing through my veins made him sound like he was miles away.

"Y/N, are you okay?! Fuck, please tell me that you're okay." He choked.

"Peter?" I whispered, not sure if he was just a hallucination as I leant my shaking hand up and rested it against his face. He immediately leant into my touch, moving his hand that was cupping my face to place it over my hand instead.

"It's me, babe, you're going to be just fine, I promise." He nodded before his gaze drifted to my arm. His eyes wavered, a tear leaving them as he pulled the needle out of my arm and threw it across the room.

"You're going to be okay, but I need you to keep your eyes open for me. I'm going to get you help, but you need to stay awake." He spoke as he hooked an arm under my legs and picked me up bridal style, my head lulling back and my arm hanging by my side as neither were supported by Peter's arms, and I wasn't strong enough to hold them up myself.

"Just leave me, Peter. I want to die." I choked. Peter looked at me, his own eyes becoming red and puffy as he carried me through my house.

"You know that I can't do that, Y/N. I'm sorry." He returned. I choked again, one last tear slipping out of my eye as I let them flutter shut.

Shots of white-hot pain swept through me, contrasting harshly to the shivers that cascaded up and down my spine as my limbs ached like they never had done before. I didn't want to open my eyes, some desperate part of me hoping that if I kept them closed, my suicide attempt would have magically worked, and I'd be dead. But no. I shivered uncontrollably, clutching the bedsheets as a thin layer of sweat covered my body. I'd rather be dead than going through withdrawal, yet here I was.

"You okay, babe?" my eyes fluttered open slightly, enough to see Peter sat by my bed.

"N-no. I'm f-freezing and b-boil-ling, a-and numb, all a-at the s-same time." I shook my head, not being able to control my body. Peter sighed and nodded as he looked down.

"That's because you relapsed, and shot up a load more than you usually do. You've been like this for six hours already, and FRIDAY says that you'll be like this for another few days, at least." He stated. My eyebrows furrowed and I lifted my head slightly, it landing against the pillow so that I could fully look at Peter.

"F-FRIDAY? Peter, where are we?" I gulped. He looked at me.

"We're in the Avengers' Compound. I knew that I couldn't take you to hospital, otherwise, you'd get arrested for drug use. I didn't know who else could help apart from Mr Stark and Bruce." He scoffed. I groaned and put my shaking hand over my eyes.

"Well that's a great first impression, isn't it? "Hi, I'm Peter's girlfriend, am I high on heroin and suffering withdrawal, course I am, don't tell me that you don't shoot up every other day"." I spoke sarcastically. Peter clenched his jaw and looked down.

"You never fucking learn, do you?" he mumbled under his breath. I looked at him.

"What? Is something wrong, Pete?" I gulped.

"Of course something's fucking wrong, Y/N. You almost died. You almost died because you once again relapsed and took way too much. Do you not get how serious this is?" he spat, looking back at me. My eyes widened slightly at how harsh he was being.

"Peter, it's called an addiction for a reason, I can't just put it down one day and decide that I'm done." I returned.

"Okay, for starters, the amount you took nearly killed you, you took way more than you needed to, to just feed your addiction. Not to mention that it's hard to kick a habit if you never try to stop." He nodded.

"Do you think I like living like this, Peter? Do you think I like having to depend on something as toxic and deadly as heroin just to make it through the day? It's not that easy, and it's the only thing that dulls the pain." I choked, tears starting to leave my eyes. Peter sighed, his stern expression dropping as he stood up.

"Budge up." He mumbled. I gulped and shifted along in the bed, allowing Peter to climb in next to me. He gently pulled me into him, my head resting against his chest and my back against his torso.

"I thought that I helped dull the pain, angel." He mumbled, gently moving hair out of my face before kissing my head. I gulped, tears now rapidly leaving my eyes.

"You do, but you can't always be there." I choked.

"Yes, I can be." He nodded. My eyebrows furrowed and I looked up at him.

"What?" I mumbled. He sighed and looked at me.

"I am not leaving your side until you kick this habit. I know that it'll be tough, and I know that there'll be a lot of nights where you're tossing and turning and the sheets end up drenched in sweat, but I don't care. I love you, Y/N, and I'm not going anywhere." He promised. I looked up at him.

"What about Spiderman?" I gulped.

"There's no point in being able to protect all of those people if I can't protect the one person that I'm in love with." He nodded. I returned it and bit my lip.

"I love you, Peter, so much." I choked.

"I love you too, Y/N, and I'm going to help you beat this." He reassured. I nodded and rested my head back against his chest, closing my eyes and letting tears fall down my face as Peter softly kissed my head.