Imagine/one shots-Timothée Chalamet

|Father| sad

Timothée is about 28 in this.
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(A/n:I AM IN NO WAY ROMANTICIZING DRUG USE!!!! I saw this picture and I got inspiration!)

You walk out of you fancy business tower and wrap your fur coat over you when the New York snowy winds hits you. It's your favorite time of the year, Christmas Eve . You're blessed to come home to a healthy baby girl. She has been with Y/parents/n all day. She's been a mini Timotheé lately and it's getting harder to handle her witty remarks. You wondered what Timothée was doing now. As much as your family shunned him away from you, you still think about him, he is the father of your child. He did hurt you though, he left you and left you alone to raise y/d/n for fame. Though all you know about him is that he hasn't been appearing in movies for about three years now. The cold winds feels like sharp knives slicing you face, but it did feel good to be deserted and cold. You hear a low groan from the corner. The streets were crowded enough to check out what's going on. You don't need no bad things happening by your Corp.

You walk over to the alley and in the dark corner you see a man on the ground groaning. Usually homeless is on the other side of town, what's going on? Maybe he's hurt you walk close and you inwardly scream at the sight in front of you. Timothée in worn down jeans, no shirt, freezing to death and so full of dope his eyes are rolled back. I rush over to him and wrap him in my coat. His body is terrifyingly frail and skinny from what ever the hell he is taking. His sharp features have sagged on his face, but you know it's him. You easily help him up and his speech is so slurred, it sounds like he's a zombie. All you could do was cry because this isn't the sweet, loving, intelligent man you knew.

He smelled horrible and his skin had patches of scabs. What the hell was he doing all these years, you thought. You help him out of the ally. Your building men notice what's going on and they instantly help you put him into the car. He groans and whines, but can't even be mobile anymore. They instantly knew they had to take him to the hospital for a detox. You made all the heaters in the car be on him and just rocked him in your arms, sobbing. You could see y/d/n features on him and it scared you to know if you ignored Timothée he'd be dead for sure. This is y/d/n father and at the end of the day if it's in you control you'll make sure he'll be stable enough to become her father before it's too late.

He grumbles and tries to move.

"Shhhh don't talk." I soothe him.

You wanted to be mad at him for leaving you with a baby, but obviously karma got him back.

"Y/d/n." Is the only thing he says clearly.

Chills runs through you back. You shortly make it to the hospital and one your building men checks us in and the other one helps me get Timothée out of the car. That night we couldn't save him.

It hurt because I wished he'd got the help he needed, I wished that he could've told me how he got hooked or why, scariest hit he'd gone through, how it was homeless, why he didn't reach out to me or see y/d/n. The people he met along the way and the things he's saw. I wanted to show him y/d/n first walk on my phone, that her first words were Elmo like his, that she is his identical twin and shows his personality so much in herself. He would've been a better man, father,but I know he reached for help that night.
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Timothée pov

Her face was fading in out. I don't think I'm going to make it. I rolled my dice of life too much, I think I landed in odd now. My heart is pumping out of my chest and I can't even pull myself together. I don't think I was scared of death so much till now. I wish I never left Y/d/n it lead me to dope. Guilt and depression is the main cause of this. I never thought this one hit would be my last and I'm scared shitless. I could've had my life together, but I ruined it. I was too busy with spending to impress and losing all my houses and having my bank accounts over drawn. Mom wouldn't take me in with all the disrespect I gave her way too many times and I was too embarrassed to ask for Y/n's help, but look at me now. If I had to go to her I would've have to respond why I left Y/d/n with her to raise, and it's a stupid and selfish reason. Fame was the reason I abandoned my family, but it let me experience what the most elite people to the rats on the New York City streets feel like for sure. Though, now those aren't the things I'd want to be shown now, I wanna see Y/d/n first steps, words and her likes and dislikes.

"Y/d/n....is she gonna be here later?" I ask as if there's a chance I'm going to make it

Then black takes over.