Author's Note: That is my first ever story with a fictional character x reader. Please, bear with me with my imperfections, when it comes up to writing. Furthermore, I've noticed that there are like a few stories with Timothy x reader even Jude x reader, consequently I couldn't help but the decision of mine being enforced. Boom! A Female Reader x Timothy Howard book! Especially for these who're suckers for Timothy, slowburns or priest kink even all, that's what I'm exactly recommending you to check out. I hope you like and enjoy the first chapter, although it's simply like prologue.

Last but not least, I've longed for awhile to write this story and I may update it whenever I feel inspired to keep it updated, in fact, I've a couple of more projects to edit like Wings of Light, Possible Second Chance and the one-shot series. 

Warning: E/C= Eye Color, Y/N= Your Name, H/C= Hair Color!

--- *** ---
--- 24th of October, 1964 ---

Every single day of the year and your fresh, young life felt like the rough texture of stomp, trouncing smoothly through the luxurious carpet of crispy autumn leaves. Beneath your shed feet the elapsing days from the week, the month, the year even more the rabidly progressing years and decades. They're phenomenally inexorable and they're part of your existence. Just like everybody else. The mortals have had their own days whether to feel the potent aura of elation, swaddling them in a cozily warm blanket as newborns or on the contrary, the worse even the worst days of their lives, freezing to death like strayers. Their existence was almost ceased as if it depended of their physical and mental stamina. Sooner or later, everyone of us is aiming whether to the heaven's celestially golden gates and joining the rich army of angels and servants of God, who have hardly sinned ever in their mortal lives. Or otherwise, the sinners' new home. Literally the searing depths of hell with every servant of Satan even incarnation of the vile. Vile essences dwelling in the most profound caverns of the underworld.

The winter was approaching within two months only. The mid-autumn weather was whistling and looping its own ballad overally in Boston. The heavy rains, the fresh and alluring scent of fresh life and the season were the common symptoms, encountered in every episode of the fall. Sometimes the wind was excessively slapping and fanning the surroundings' exposed fleshes. The sun was usually smiling vibrantly to everything below and swaddling it in a warm, saturating blanket, providing comfort and light to everything. The heinous clouds maliciously obscured the beaming sun with storms and heavy rain, frowning and discoloring everything below.

Tonight you decided to fool around with some of your friends in a local Boston bar after having a tough, fatiguing day at work as a waitress, disputing with certain capricious, frustrated clients who were bugging you off to bones though your attempts with great deal of nonchalance to balance and harmonize the ambience which was still muddling the intension. You've been always amiable and open-minded even generous to the clients, diligently doing your work, regardless how stern was your boss or certain clients were brashly cocksure and narrow-minded.

Moreover, your career as a waitress was still ongoing for a year after fleeing Silver Spring, Maryland, in order to escape the hazard world of drugs and crimes with the immense fortune you've earned after you and some of your former classmates that were involved in the hazard business. You didn't have many friends though some of your former classmates that were also business partners with you and selling illegally galore variety of drugs to the customers and thanks to the traded products the fortune was beaming to you with the brilliant reward of luxurious pile of dollars you've scarcely ever seen in your life, they were no longer keeping in touch with you after starting everything from the beginning in Boston. On your way to the small city of Massachusetts from the small town of Maryland, you eventually fathomed the sequence of the drug dealer's short-time business you've been involved with a couple of your peers. The ginormous fortune you're currently possessing was for emigrating somewhere else where nobody knows you by purchasing your own property and afford anything you'd want more than anything although the questionable quantity of money.

A year ago, Boston, the small city of Massachusetts was readily foreign to you as if you're travelling in another country where the general population didn't have any idea who you're actually unlike your birth town. In Silver Spring, Maryland, where your heart was eventually belonging since your existence, you're one of the most infamous and youngest drug dealers, known for your ethereally strong participation in a notoriously outlaw organization and most of all, keeping in touch with the cook and his minions.

You're the only family member from your roots, who's still striving to survive in the crudely cold, huge world. Your parents were already deceased after joining high school and thereafter your grandparents were the sole responsible family members to look after you as an only child. Although your grandparents passed away two years ago after acknowledging your infamous status of a drug dealer, subsequently they were deadly worried about you and your future even restlessly phoning the police to bring you back in their property, despite their raw fiascos. Within a couple of weeks, they're both passing away due to the inexorable heart attack once they acknowledged for serial time the authorities' attempts to find you and arrest you for your stormy, blowminding hard work and efforts in the illicit business.

Once you're back at your grandparents' property to have a farewell with them for last time, the last thing you've beheld just moments before accomplishing your plotted plans for fleeing in another city and state in the same time was the emptiness and the lethal silence, overtaking the one-story, dilapidating house where your adolescence was spent during your high school years. Nobody has informed you about their haphazard demises until your childlike inquisitiveness and fiery impulse persuaded you to research inside the remnants of your adolescence's nest, finding a note, recognizing the familiar manuscript that constructed each word up to each paragraph, separating every single moment and the thousand patterns of emotions and feelings, poured in the sheet of paper just minutes before their deaths.

--- *** ---

--- Flashback ---

--- Two Years Earlier ---

--- 8th of October, 1962 ---

After finishing with the dirty work and the tremendous wealth was already battered in your both stark hands, afterwards just before taking your grandparents' cab to flee wherever the destination takes you and utterly controlled by you the direction you take, your timid, meek footsteps were echoing against the threshold of your grandparents' godforsaken, dilapidating one-story house after stomping the luxurious carpet of crispy, multicoloured leaves after tumbling down from the barren trees, your {eye color} jewels landed on the iron doorknob, your petite, ungloved hands trembling due to the chilly nocturnal weather were swathed inside your dark ripped jeans' pockets. Your chapped, plumpish lips glimmered thousand patterns of your disheveled appearance after your hard work and the thick layer of perspiration, stickily clung to your facial skin and clamminess battering your palms. The heart rates increased rapidly rabid, scarcely acknowledging the sequence of entering in your grandparents' cabin for last time and spending with their eventual final moments the elapsing, limited time you're ensured just before the police passed through the desolated neighbourhood and catch you in the big trouble you've brought by yourself and your business partners.

The endangerness was balefully intimidating you to give up with selling drugs after the product were extraordinarily produced by your boss and dumping the fraudulent occupation sooner than later before your wrists were violently cuffed by iron handcuffs, hostile cops dragging you to the shrilling elegiac soundtrack of sirens-clad police car and the judge sentencing you to spend the rest of your young adulthood behind the jail bars and the unrequited young adulthood being spent inside the pitch-black darkness instead the altruistic freedom scoop you with open arms in a warm embrace.

The pungent reek of urine, human odor and mold were inhaled by your sensitive, flexible nostrils, grinding your elegant jaw with the silent ballad of your gritted ivory teeth. An eerie flat line was brushing your chapped lips. Neither a smile, nor a frown was decorating your cherub lips.

Nobody was by your side to flee together for wherever you drive the vehicle which is the sole alternative to escape the vicious claws of the authorities.

An hour abided until midnight and you're already donned in the attires of invincible weariness, but you couldn't give up easily. After one of your petite, weathered hands managed to reach down for the iron doorknob and turning it, the failure of opening the locked front door was keeping your wits about your grandparents have already drifted off asleep. Howsoever, it was never too late to search for them and conversate them even if it's three o'clock in the morning, snapping them out of their beauty coma.

Your other hand that was lingering inside your dark pair of ripped jeans' profound pocket fumbled idly, clumsily for the keys you had such as car keys, your birth house and grandparents' cabin even the underground basement. Moistening deliciously your plump, rosy-coloured lips after manipulating to twirl and circle your tongue to prong the lower and upper lips courageously, consequently you retrieved the only keys you've had and inserted the rusty, silver key in the keyhole, whereas your hand was still gripping the doorknob until with a single click the door swung opened and sandstorm of dust wobbled up to your petite-frame. The subsequence of your dry, dehydrated cough and the obnoxious, daredevil dust toying with your button nose stunned you for a single second, ducking your head to evade the sandstorm of dust.

"Damn!" The hoarseness in your Maryland lilt didn't fade away after the cough and dehydration for not consuming a single sip of liquid to hydrate your organs and throat were cusping and persistently feuding with your health condition.

In the meanwhile, you lifted up your gaze to meet the metaphorically ironic warm welcome you're embraced after your leather ankle boot-clad feet crunched against the notoriously creaky wooden planked flooring. The curtains were closed, obscuring any further light to bath the room in modicum of light. Ebony darkness was dancing in a circle in the living room.

What the initial thought bubbled up in your vortex of thoughts was that Claudia, your grandmother and Todd, your grandfather were already asleep and their initial reaction of validating the unfamiliar presence was startling even have a sudden heart attack.

The fatal hush which was playing on a loop was tingling trouble to your petite, sensitive ears and your {eye color} embers stung widened in agitation as if you're anticipating haphazardly a cop or an outlaw to leap beside you and play their cards right. Every background noise was distractingly terrifying for you especially when you're all alone and you didn't have much time to accomplish the final quests you had in the small city of Maryland.

"Grandma?" The bashfulness punctured your whisper, almost dying on your strawberry-coloured, dry tongue after your one of your weathered hands fumbled childishly clumsy for the light switch to turn the lights on, barely averting the perpendicular stare at the direction, aimed to the untouchedly shut doors."Grandpa?" After your lukewarm fingertips pressed the light switch coyly within a couple of seconds the light bulb brightened in brass, throughout illuminating in artificial saturating yellow light the desolated living room. Meanwhile, your young-looking, porcelain complexion grimaced with a baffled frown, smeared across your roseate lips.

After inspecting warily the living room with your agitatedly coy footsteps, what it bulked you was a plain sheet of paper, dumped on the dusty, smeared in filth and grubby, roughly obnoxious textured with dried blood-stains round table.

Your spider pale fingers lingered on the flimsy note, snatching it boldly from the table and darting your {E/C} embers to the familiar manuscript, taking your time to peruse and examine the genuine notion of every word and every paragraph poured in the note.

Dear {Y/N},

It may be our last words but no matter what you've been through and the tempest of policemen looking for you, you'll be always the most loved person by us and taking an enormous room in our hearts forever even when we're no longer with you! No matter if you're a drug dealer yet and befriending with the people who made you to choose the wrong path in your life even being the real reason to drop out of your school scarcely at age seventeen, you're our one of a kind Sunshine and you'll be always our one of a kind ray of sunshine we've looked after.

I can still remember the day when you lost your parents due to cancer and our small pension wasn't enough to feed three of us in this small household even to ensure you enough school equipment and clothes which you yearn to purchase, regardless with whose money. On one hand, I'm strongly against that illegal business you're involved in, but on other hand I'm still by your side even though the thousand of dollars you're currently own will help you to afford anything whatever you need to continue your survival as the only survivor from our family.

The day we took you in our small household was one of the days when you needed the most comfort, love, warmness and understanding at age fifteen. What an irony of the fate for an adolescent!

Anyway live your own life {Y/N} and enjoy your young adulthood. Be ready for every fight with everybody who is more than ready to destroy you, due to their tremendous hatred and jealousy of your uniqueness! Never allow anybody to let you down just because of your failures and mistakes! Chin up and stay strong {Y/N}!

With big love from your grandma and grandpa, Claudia and Todd

A lot of kisses and hugs

"No, no! This must be impossible!" After the pads of your slim, long as flute stings' fingers bashfully tipped the sheet of paper, crystalline, uncontrollably ruthless tears rimmed your {E/C} orbs which were fixated on every paragraph. Your heart was tearing off on trillions of frail, glassy pieces as if you're maliciously, furiously busking off a mere, extravagant cloth with your fashioned in balled fists hands. Vaguely woeful smile bloomed upon your parchment, youthful complexion. What your seventeen-year-old side didn't want to confront and assimilate was Claudia and Todd no longer inhabiting not only their own cabin, moreover the ginormous mortal world. What your contrition was rigidly texturing your torn off heart was not being able to behold Claudia and Todd ever again and not being able to see them earlier just before their final minutes to have a heart attack and kick the bucket.

--- *** ---

--- End of Flashback ---

"{Y/N}, you okay?" Dana, one of your friends snapped you out of your reverie, subsequently dwelling out of the reverie realm in a jiffy after nudging you skeptically.

"Oh y-yes, I'm Dana!" The hoarseness in your merry, half-hearted snicker didn't vanish after shifting your attention to the redhead, promptly holding your stare with her.

You, Dana, Frederic and Barb were gathered altogether on a separate table in the most abysmal, isolated corners of the bar after ordering for yourselves bottles of beer with diversity of brands, depending on its owner.

It's been awhile since you've reunited with your oldest, most loyal friends since high school except Dana and Barb, who were always next to you since your early childhood. Although you quitted the risky world of drugs and crimes, they've never dumped you like the rest of the cook's minions, besides Dana, Barb and Frederic were with a few years your seniors and you could always count on them and reckon their aid.

Eventually your childhood friend Dana was approximately in her early twenties with neck length bob hair. Freshly crispy, soft ginger strands framing her round, oval profile with her alabaster skin tone, donning her youthful muscles. Her body structure was graciously slender and her height was circa 5'3. Further, the older lady wasn't a keen fan of wearing make-up and she'd rather appreciate the natural beauty which hasn't faded with the relentlessly elapsing time. Her lips were subtly cherub, gracefully matching with her round, feline lapis lazuli jewels which caged inside abundance of paradoxal secrets. Last but not least, her fashion style was gothic modish and combining usually darker nuances of red, purple and blue.

Unlike Dana Schwartz whose roots were German with slight mix of Canadian, Barb was with bronze tanned skin tone, graciously highlighting her feminine, smooth facial features and averagely constructed figure. Her roots weren't American at all, factly, her parents are Mexican emigrants, who aren't satisfied with their lifestyle in the southern country at all, thus making the final decision to emigrate somewhere where the climate is sufficiently bearable and colder. Barb Summer's age was exactly parallel to the German-Canadian compatriot though the couple of months difference in their scarce age gap. The other older lady's lion mane of silken ebony tresses were cascading and flaring fiercely across her mid-back and framing exquisitely her full, round profile. Her dark eyebrows were suitably, ironically matching with her round, huge indiscernible coffee brown pools. Notwithstanding her Latin background, she always was donned in warmer nuances of yellow and orange attires, outstandingly matching with her profile. Last but not least, Barb Summer was slightly taller than the German-Canadian with a handful of inches.

Frederic, one of the fewest loyal friends of yours was a young gentleman in his mid-twenties with dark blonde hair, intriguingly matching with his jade green pools and his thin lips. The older man was approximately standing 6'2 with leanly muscly anatomy, contoured beneath the garments which were guarding his epidermis. His family is actually coming from Michigan, despite their emigration in Maryland and the eventual expatriation of Frederic in the small city of Massachusetts surreptitiously, in order to not upset his old high school buddy and somehow to surprise her. His full name was Frederic Blake.

The bar wasn't crowded by ocean of strangers at all. It was rather one of the cheapest in the entire small city of Massachusetts. The speaker's background music was droning and tingling melodious tunes to the customers and the bartender.

"She wore blue velvet! Bluer than velvet was the night! Softer than satin was the light from the stars!" Blue Velvet by Bobby Vinton was recently playing on the speaker as his eloquently chanting voice was accenting the resonance in the beginning of the lyrics.

"I didn't have any clue, it's going to be that cool to work on the gas station and refill the fuel of the clients' cars!" After the blonde's chilly, meaty fingers were playing absently with the frail glass of his bottle of beer, afterward he lugged up the bottle to sip from the weak alcoholic beverage emphatically until a blatant belch slipped from his beer-stained, wet tongue and earning your and the ginger's piercing, heinous glares, transfixed on his abruptly softened facial attributes. "What is wrong, ladies?" The unpredictable, megawatt hush was stretching the stings of your tongues, opting to conjugate vowels and syllables, throughout formulating pair of words and constructing them in an utterance. A quirk twisted across his dark, thick eyebrows after glancing at you and the German-Canadian, whose glare was far from affable, creamily open-minded at all. "Cat got your tongue?" The mockery, accentuating his Michigan lilt was followed by femininely rebuking hisses, tingling trouble to him and vague powder of blush tinging his well-defined, chubby cheeks.

"Your belch, Frederic! Damn!" At the moment, the Mexican compatriot managed to dump her bottle of beer on the square table as her elvish, creamy hand lowered to his thigh, fashioning in a kindhearted, mischievous slap. "You know how much Dana and {Y/N} despise somebody to belch into their faces."

"It's just a belch and," The older man peered behind him to scan in the corner of his jade green eye the entire bar's interior, while you managed to cross your arms across your chest, barely averting your glare. "Nobody cares! I'm sure your parents whenever they were in the bar or a restaurant have farted or burped smugly at least, Miss Dana Schwartz!" The lavish sarcasm, spotlighting Frederic's utterance after turning to confront your and the ginger's scintillating eyeing, it didn't break his facial expression to despondent or galled.

"Yeah but that was a long time ago and I was like a little girl when that happened." The rebuking sharpness, puncturing the redhead's retaliation taunted the Michigander's dry, reckless snicker, dancing on his tongue. "It's not funny, Frederic! It was rather tragic when my parents were humiliating me and themselves with their uncontrollable needs."

"She wore blue velvet! Bluer than velvet were her eyes! Warmer than May her tender sighs! Love was ours!"

"Do it at home instead making scenes in front of the people like a clown." Barb's elvish, soothingly lukewarm hand managed to reach for the Michigander's broad, leanly toned shoulder and her fingers fashioned flatly in a slap, swatting his leather fabric and squinting up her indiscernible chocolate brown irises at Frederic. "It's not a circus! It's a bar!" In the interval, Dana and your glares softened meekly as yours hypodermically chilly, slim fingers lingered curled around the glassy bottle and lugging it up to gulp a tiny soar sip from the brown weak liquor, scorching the corners of your mouth and throat.

"You're goddamn right, Barb!" Suddenly {Y/N} snapped after slamming your beverage on the table, tilting your chin and landing your {E/C} irises on the Mexican, licking greedily, gamely your beer-smeared roseate, plumpish lips with manipulating the twirl and revolve your tongue emphatically. "But Frederic is just Frederic. He's unchangeable." Spreading your hands foiledly in the air, your tongue clicked seconds before crafting the words.

"I'm unchangeable if I'm with friends or the ones who love and accept me for who I'm, {Y/N}, because I'm not obligated to be somebody who I'm not with the particular people," In the interim, the notorious drug cook of Maryland, Cole Derek Lowe's mammoth, icily hand's fingers braced, maneuvering the grasp around the nape of your neck, sensing the sixth sense of your former boss's non-consensual touch grazing the delicate, {S/C} skin of the nape of your neck. The electrifying dew of bristled goosebumps prickled your upward and downward epidermis of your legs and arms. The heart rates overkeenly increased and the mind-numbing drums in your throbbing chest, hesitantly gnawing on the raw spot of your lower lip to stifle a whimper or any distracting, reluctant sound. "{Y/N}, look behind you!"

"Cole!" The other women emitted a frustrated guttural croak, scratching their throats, grimacing momentarily their young-looking, parchment complexions after apprehensively squinting up at your former boss, whose murderous ire and morbid adrenaline were pulsating into his bulky figure. Unbelievable ablaze umbrage was pumping into his veins and erupting promptly the overflowing lava in his capillaries. The symphony of Frederic, Dana and Barb puncturing their flabbergast the fate somehow unspeakably reunite with nobody else than their foe, who used to boss them and one day after former minions of the scientist have discovered galore opulence of pornographic photographs of underaged girls and women who haven't consented, thereafter cat got their tongues. "You dirty old pervert!" Your bottom plump lip trembled at the roar of your high school friend, attempting to confront the scientist. "{Y/N}, do not turn! Do not trust your instincts to face him!" Hostile growl was spotlighting the middle-aged gentleman's antagonism with your horde of friends.

"Ours a love I held tightly! Feeling the rapture grow like a flame burning brightly! But when she left, gone was the glow of!" Beehive of prying gawks were darted to the isolated corner of the bar which transmuted in a battlefield.

Once you turned demurely hesitant, stilling your front marbled teeth chewing your lip and shifting your attention to the middle-aged man, whereas one of your marbled petite, quenched due to the delightful contact with the weak liquor hand was clawing the beer bottle until the pads of Cole's fingers opted grasped tighter your neck, incapable of breathing adequately for a single second, flickering up widened your eyes to maintain the resentful eye contact with your foe. What it oddbally questioned you was since you, Dana, Barb and Frederic have alienated from the drug cook and you aren't up to bringing back the past, jumpcutting to the present and living for the future to unwind your divine opportunities as fresh muscles to craft your success and wounding yourself with the mistakes due to your lacking experience and knowledge in certain sphere, how he picks on you instead either somebody else from your inner circle. An antagonizing, fierce frown flattened downward your cherub lips and drinking with your {E/C} embers the fountain of emotions, flaming Cole's cocoa brown embers.

"It's unbelievable such charlatans like you betrayed me." Seconds before suffocating you with his meaty fingers, he shot a piercing, baleful glare to your older buddies through his bared teeth until Frederic readjusted his seat to charge up towards the older man and your fingers grappled the rim of the bottle subtly, vainly and hiding it under the table, out of Cole's sight. "No wonder who is in huge trouble after finding you here in Boston! How pathet-" All of a sudden, the young man charged and rased down the scientist, pinning his fubsily bulky body with his dumbfoundingly lean muscular anatomy, bleating a begrudging groan after the breath coursed up his lungs. Meantime, Cole's mammoth, nefariously icy hands reached for the blonde's neck, suffocating him until your childhood friends and you lifted up your rears from your seats, subsequently intervening as you attempted to smash the bottle of beer into your former boss's head by whisking swiftly and balefully until the Michigander flumped backward, reclining against the table with the clattering choir of flinched frailly glassy beer bottles and the older gentleman tricksterly denuding the beer bottle from your hands and whisking noxiously past you, while guarding the Mexican and German-Canadian to be the one to take the bullet for them instead blaming yourself for the rest of your days after the incident the mauve tints, accompanied by dried bloody stains and scraps mapping their fleshes.

"Do not touch the girls, cunt!" Whilst Frederic was partly unconscious, rubbing his head after reluctantly hitting the table with his delicate fingertips, he mewled a rebuking caution. In the meantime, the drug cook straightened his posture from the ground as he kicked in the groins your childhood friends after their failed attempts to pin his large-frame and the last thing you could do was ducking to dodge the attempted smack with bottle until he stabbed your knee to weaken your stamina, ebbing out physically and subsequently mentally. "Damn it! You won't get away for any longer with your horseshit, Cole!"

"Try again, fanny!" Afterwards you, Dana and Barb were almost senseless, crouching down while stoicly shrieking and opting to remove the stabbed partly broken bottle in your forearm, while Barb and Dana crawled awkwardly to manage their hands, manipulating their knees to lurch, brushing them against the dusty, pasty floor.

"Mister, we won't serve your kindness anymo-" The last thing before you were senseless was eavesdropping the barman's acrimonious caution to the middle-aged man with sharp timbre, emphasizing his seriousness until the vehement stomp of Cole's feet kneaded your mid-back, consequently losing consciousness in a jiff.

"I haven't finished with all of you especially {Y/N}! I called a special institution that is going to take a good care of you." Suddenly your eyelids snapped shut, whereas the older ladies and the gasman were lingering on the floor, scarcely having any strength to straighten their postures and avenge your former boss for the sequence of the bar fight. What it was oblivious for the drug cook was the barkeeper's menaces, heading to the front door and dumping the wounded figures on the floor as if nothing has happened, situated in the bar.

"Blue velvet! But in my heart there'll always be! Precious and warm, a memory through the years and I still can see blue velvet through my tears!"

Author's Final Note: I'd like to thank everybody who've separated from their time to not only read this new story which I'm a beginner to write with x reader, but also to vote even leave a feedback! This story is mostly dedicated to my most loyal readers like jlangster_, Yararebird, barnesthor- (I'm specially dedicating this book to you, because you're obsessed with Tim like me), Celeste-Moore, ahscovxn,  miss_jessica_lange_ whom I'm also gleefully to read their stories and keep in touch! You're the sweetest and a big love for everyone of you! 💞💞

Moreover, do not kill me how sloppy is the bar fight scene but It's my first time writing something with x reader and I know how sucks it's! Last but not least, the main protagonist Timothy will emerge in the second chapter!