oldhollywoodimagines

[oldhollywoodimagines]

Cary Grant (Barbara Hutton collection?) @lovelyangryheart

[oldhollywoodimagines]

Cary Grant as Mortimer Brewster Arsenic and Old Lace (1944) dir. Frank Capra

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Ok, but did anyone watch Archie?

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Cary Grant taking his Siamese cat out for a walk in Beverly Hills (1955).

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Goodnight, Love.

A/N: Not a request just something that I dreamed up. 🩵

Pairing: Atticus Finch x Reader

Warnings: Maybe a typo or two and bad grammar, majority of it is fluff though.

Word Count: 992

Summary: Atticus comes home late and you help him get to sleep.

~*~

It was late by the time Atticus got home, much later then he would’ve liked to have come home. Especially with the kids having just started school for the year, it wasn’t that he didn’t trust you to help with homework and get them into bed. It was just that he felt by doing so he was losing time around them he would never be able to get back. And not only was he missing out on time with them, he was missing out on time with you.

Pursing his lips at the thought he quietly shut the door behind him, loosening his tie as he made his way up the stairs to push your bedroom door open. His eyes immediately landing on your figure stretched out on the bed. The silk nightgown that clung to your body only accentuated your curves as the moonlight shone down on you.

The sight making him smile, the fact you looked so soft and warm making him swallow hard as he moved closer to you before setting his briefcase down, his hand gently stroking your hair, the sensation causing you to stir. At this he retracted his hand with a tender smile, moving to open the closet.

“Mm, Atticus?” Your voice soft with sleep, as your sleepy eyes blinked at him when you sat up in the bed. The gleam in your eyes brightening as he turned to look at you, the handsome face of your husband bringing a smile to your lips. Handsome, but tired as he looked at you through hooded eyes taking in your messy hair, he always thought this was when you looked most beautiful.

“Yes, darling?” You moved towards him now, a daring smile present on your lips as you pressed into him, arms threading around him as he returned your affections. Standing in his arms you stood on your tiptoes to press a warm kiss to his lips, his musky aftershave from that morning barely ghosting your sense of smell. His lips a bit chapped but minty nonetheless from balm he had put on them.

“I’m glad you’re home.” You whispered, hands moving to rest on his chest, holding eye contact with him all the while. Biting your lip between your teeth when he caressed your check with his thumb, the gentle touch making your eyes flutter shut, causing his other arm to slightly tighten around you.

“I’m glad too…” the words coming out in a sigh, your fingers busying themselves with the buttons of his vest. You loved watching Atticus get dressed in the morning, but even more than that you loved undressing him. Every button you popped out of place sending a jolt of endorphins to the pleasure center in your brain.

Moving the vest off his shoulders you started working on his shirt, tugging it up out of the place where it had been tucked in, “how did the children do at school today?”

Fingers making quick work of his tie you glanced up at him, “Jem has a test on Thursday in math class, and he’s planning on trying out for the football team as soon as it’s possible…” a grin crossing your features as you talked about your stepson, his father not a bit surprised by him trying out for the football team.

“And Scout is writing a letter to Dill for a class writing project. I think it’s the fastest she’s ever completed an assignment, she sat down and had it done in probably an hour.”

“Mhm, and you, how was your day?” His voice catching slightly as your fingers ran down his undershirt clad chest to rest on his belt. Looking up at him through your lashes, you delighted at the way his Adam’s apple bobbed when you slid his pants down his legs.

“My day was good and it’s even better now.”

“Is that so?” His eyebrows arching playfully, onyx eyes watching as you hung his pants up with the rest of his suit.

“It is.” Grabbing his hands you pulled him over to the bed, climbing up on it before facing him and lacing your arms around his neck, his arms resting around your waist as he stood by the side of it.

“You know this isn’t how most people cuddle.” He teased, hands trailing down your body, as he looked down at your legs, bent at the knee while you were on the bed so you could look him in the eye. Looking at him coyly, you removed his glasses and set them on the bedside table before pressing your lips to his.

The kiss growing more heavy as he gently laid you back on the mattress trapping you underneath him, your fingers playing with the hair at the nape of his neck. The tender action causing him to smile as he pulled back to look at you. Your lips puffy and cheeks flushed from the attention he’d given you. The gentle smile he fixed you with escalating your heartbeat a tad, hands squeezing your waist slightly before his forehead rested on yours.

“I thought you wanted to cuddle?” Lips just barely a breath away from his cheek now as you wrapped yourself around him. He nodded, placing a kiss on your forehead before turning over on his back, his arms around you as your head rested on his chest and your legs weaved together with his.

You laid together like this for a while, him stroking your hair and you enjoying the gentle beat of his heart. Your fingers tracing shapes on his chest as you enjoyed one another’s company, “how was your day, honey?”

Your question was met with silence save for quiet little snores that left your husband’s mouth, glancing up at him you smiled warmly, placing a small kiss on his brow before leaning over him to turn off the lamp.

“Goodnight, love.” You whispered softly, curling into his side to go back to sleep.

[oldhollywoodimagines]

Gregory Peck in Roman Holiday (1953) dir. William Wyler

[oldhollywoodimagines]

Cary Grant in Wings in the Dark (1935) dir. James Flood

[oldhollywoodimagines]

Sick Day

A/N: requested awhile ago, I apologize for the wait, my life has been really busy and I’m dealing with a lot. I thank you for your patience! 😊 please be gentle with me as this is only my second writing for TKAM.

Pairing: Atticus Finch x Reader

Warnings: Maybe a typo and some terrible mechanical errors and grammar.

Word count: 1,003

Summary: Atticus is sick and you take care of him.

~*~

The therapeutic smell of Vick’s Vaporub made your nostrils tingle as you made your way up the stairs to your bedroom. The tray you carried loaded down with soup, tea, and a sleeve of saltine crackers, all for your darling husband, Atticus, who you had all but held at gun point to take a few sick days.

Ever the worker though, upon opening the door, you found him sitting up reading a document that had been in his briefcase that had rested on the vanity. Had it not been for his red nose and hoarse cough every now and then that would all but rattle his bones, the picture would have been quite normal.

Settling the tray down on the nightstand, the gentle clinking of the silverware caused him to peer at you over the top of his glasses. Dark eyes slightly narrowed when you sat on the edge of the bed and removed his glasses.

“You’re supposed to be resting, darling.” A smile softly slipping onto your lips as you gently chided.

“And I am.” His voice coming out in rasp as he surveyed you with a coy grin. Setting, the documents on the nightstand he took your hand in his free one.

“You needn’t bother with me too much, I’ll be better by tomorrow with all the rest I’m getting today.”

“Atticus Finch, I’m shocked that you’d advise me not to bother with my husband.” You teased, leaning forward a bit to put a pillow behind him so he could sit up more comfortably. He grinned slightly, nestling down into the newly fluffed pillow, his eyes moving down to look at your fingers which had intertwined with his.

His thumb making gentle strokes on the back of your hand, “I can almost guarantee you that he wouldn’t divorce even if you didn’t bother with him.”

Eyes shining with admiration as he joked back and looked at you softly before tracing the plane of your face to your lips. At this a smile crossed your lips, eyebrow quirking upward as you leaned forward towards him, “how can you be so sure that he wouldn’t?”

Dark eyes now locked on yours he leaned even closer to you, “because I’m absolutely positive that he adores you.”

The statement followed up by his lips meeting yours in a delicate kiss, fingers tracing up your wrist and arm to trace along your collarbone. Goosebumps alighted on your skin at the gentle precision of it all, your lips moving with his as you melted closer to him. Pulling away, you rested your head on his shoulder as his arms enfolded you to him.

“You know if I get sick from you, Cal is going to have to take care of us both.” You smiled at him, moving your hand up to rest on his chest, your fingers absentmindedly tracing the length of the lapel of his pajama shirt.

“Sick? You’re sure I’m sick? Because right now I feel just fine.” Arms giving you a playful squeeze as you looked at him, your facial expression one of gleeful disbelief.

“You’re impossible.” You chided, placing a kiss on his cheek before moving to get up from your place on his lap. Replacing your own weight with the tray you had brought up, “now, I expect you to eat all this soup -“

The sound of the door swinging open and feet scurrying up the stairs interrupting you, you both laughed quietly and shared a knowing glance before the bedroom door flew open. Scout rushed in, offering you a small smile before turning her attention to Atticus.

Her face alight with joy as she jumped onto the bed, the soup nearly sloshing over the side of the bowl in the process, making your eyes widen a bit and a chuckle leave your mouth.

“Careful, Scout.” Atticus warned, his eyebrows arching at the young girl as he adjusted the tray on his lap.

“Today, Walter Cunningham was out on account of working with his dad again so -“

“Scout?” Jem’s voice echoed through the upstairs of the house before he appeared in the doorway, a glare fixing itself on his face as he gazed at his sister who was now busying herself looking at the tray on her father’s lap.

“Sir, can I have one of those?” Pointing at the sleeve of crackers, “Scout, I told you on the way here to let Atticus rest, and now you’re here doing just what I told you not too.”

“Nobody asked you to be in charge.” Scout shot back, not even bothering to move her expectant gaze off her father, as she looked between him and the crackers. Her face lighting up when he nodded at her, brow furrowing as she grabbed at them greedily before chasing Jem back down the stairs, their argument continuing the whole way down the stairs.

You and Atticus exchanged a smile and a knowing glance, before you were placing a kiss on his cheek once more, “I’ll be back soon to get your tray.”

Reaching out quickly to grab your hand, he brought it to his lips, pressing a soft kiss against the supple skin, “don’t take too long to come back, hm?”

“I thought you told me not to bother with you?” A coy grin turning your lips upward, the tease making him chuckle slightly, “I decided I might need more bothering than I originally thought.”

“Oh? And why is that?” Your nails lightly tracing his arm causing goosebumps to rise up on his skin.

“It’s not very often that I get so much time with my lovely wife, I wanted to take advantage of it.” His hand squeezing yours affectionately as he beamed up at you. The comment so sweet and genuine it made you swoon and your cheeks flush a light pink.

“Well, in that case, -“ you began, sitting down on the side of the bed, “eat your soup.”

Nodding, he smiled at you brightly lifting the spoon to his lips.

[oldhollywoodimagines]

[oldhollywoodimagines]

If I wrote a short chapter fic would anybody be interested?

[oldhollywoodimagines]

Lauren Bacall and Cary Grant, 1954

[oldhollywoodimagines]

Audrey Hepburn in New York by Dennis Stock, 1954

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RICHARD GERE as “Julian Kay” American Gigolo (1980) dir. Paul Schrader

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GENE TIERNEY in Leave Her to Heaven (1945) dir. John M. Stahl

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I know it’s not really old Hollywood but I watched First Knight two days ago, and I’m glad I’m not Guinevere.

[oldhollywoodimagines]

GOLDFINGER 1964

Sean Connery as James Bond

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Bond sat down on his rumpled bed and lost himself in drink and gloomy reflections.

- Ian Fleming, Dr. No (1958)