#tkam x reader

[ballad-of-birdy-lamb]

heyyaaaaa can i pretty please request for an atticus x reader? maybe atticus grows a little liking for his new neighbor (reader) and has been inviting them over for dinner a little too often and his kids are like “you sure you don’t like them 🤔?” And atticus tries to brush it off but it’s very obvious

You never knew how much I really like you.

Atticus Finch x Gender Neutral! Reader romantic headcanon to (small) fic Summary: Atticus's feelings were beyond noticeable, even to Jem and Scout Warnings: None Word Count: 1.4k ₊˚⊹ᰔಇ.

The first time Jem and Scout see Atticus so red in the face is when they are walking back from returning Dill to his house. Their father was standing by your fence, smiling happily as you talked about your day. His cheeks were red as he admired you. When the two got close enough, they heard him ask you to come over for dinner. You accepted it as any good new neighbor does, said your goodbyes, and went back into the home.

“You’re real red-faced, Atticus,” Scout would point out, squinting to look up at her father. Atticus looked over at them and wiped his face, not realizing how obvious it was. He picked her up carefully and walked down the sidewalk back to their home.

“It’s from the sun,” he justifies casually. They felt it was off, he was in the sun all the time, grew up in the south, and they never saw him sweat or undone. His justification made little sense to them.

Atticus spent the night helping Calpurnia set the dining room up for dinner later that night, setting the table with the fine China the kids barely saw outside of very nice holidays or very nice guests. Each moment made Scout and Jem question him more.

“They’re just a new neighbor, why do they get the good China?” Scout would ask plainly, though her tone carried an odd judgmental characteristic. Atticus shook his head and set another plate in Jem’s usual spot.

“They’re still new to the town, it’s good to show them that they’re welcome,” Atticus answered and gave the girl the forks, motioning for her to help set up too.

The dinner was spent with Atticus (a little too cheerfully by Jem’s idea) asking you questions about your life before coming to Maycomb, what you did for a living, and how you were as a person. Scout and Jem would occasionally pipe in and ask you questions, mostly having to do with how you feel about random things (things they like, the Radleys, etc.).

The dinner would end well… that’s what Jem and Scout would say if they didn’t have to go to bed before you left. While they got ready for the night, they occasionally would hear your laugh with Atticus’s, and the sound of the dishes being put away. Just before you left, they got to their bedroom window, watching you leaving the house with a smile. Atticus was probably smiling too, again, a little too red-faced for Scout and Jem to think it was nothing but the sun.

Weeks would go by and seeing you over in their home wasn’t new at some point. The two would wait, watching the corner for Atticus to come home, getting bored from it, and look around to find him talking to you. You stood by your white fence and spoke with great joy on your face, a similar expression on their father's face. They could only guess what was offered by Atticus once they saw the fine China later that night.

“Do you think adults cannot have normal adult friendships?” Atticus asked, sitting down in the living room chair, the accusations of adoration finally spilled by Scout. The sound of sizzling food in the kitchen filled the home with a warm glow, not only from the smell but also from the warm orange light. Scout stood with a blank face and shook her head.

“No,” she said aimlessly. Atticus smiled slightly at her bluntness.

“You had them over twice last week alone,” Jem chirped as he walked from the dining room. “And all the food Calpurnia keeps making for you both are very nice.”

“I treat my guests well,” Atticus stated simply, picking up his book, and opening one of the pages. “I am nothing more than a friend.”

The dinner was spent again like the weeks before, Atticus getting more comfortable with the talking points, and accepting whatever witty comment you made with a chuckle. Scout would fake a gag if a topic changed to something more romantic than she would want her father to be a part of and Calpurnia would pull her away and give her a talk about being kind to her guests. But you weren’t a guest at this point! You essentially live here!

Atticus couldn’t hate you, neither could Jem and Scout. You were kind, even if their father found you fond in a way beyond friendship, it was slightly understandable. You spent your time telling them interesting stories about your life before Maycomb, odd stories about how you’d live before the simplicity of now.

“Atticus likes them,” Jem would say, sifting through his pyjama drawer. You had arrived that night barely an hour before their usual bedtime, only giving them a small amount of time to chat and ask questions.

“I know,” said Scout honestly.

The dinners get more personal, later in the day, there is more time for you and Atticus to be alone without the children needing entertainment, allowing adult talk. Jem and Scout being gone meant he was left with you, getting your attention more to how he truly acted.

The redness of his cheeks, the smile on his face most of the dinner didn’t just get past you. You have been over so many times there wasn’t a moment when you didn’t notice those things. By the end of the dinner, you found your way to the swing on the porch.

“How do you feel about me?” You asked after several seconds of awkward silence. The night had grown quiet, the only sound was the chirps of crickets and cicadas. Atticus sat so close the warmth of your thigh was felt by his own.

“What do you mean?” Atticus asked after clearing his throat. He gently took his glasses from his face and wiped the lenses with a handkerchief. You hesitated momentarily, wondering if you were overreacting and overthinking, or if your ideas were true.

“I mean…,” you trail off, turning your eyes to your hands. “Do you like me?”

Atticus wiped the lenses of his glasses carefully, smiling slightly at the idea. “I do like you,” he admitted, looking away from his glasses for a second to look at you. “You’re very kind, a good neighbor if you will.”

You muse at his answer and shake your head. “No! I mean to have feelings for me. Do you like me like that?” You hastily specify, watching him closely. Atticus moved slowly, taking his time cleaning one of the smudges from the left lens. It was horrific how slow he was moving to answer. “I’ve seen how you look at me.”

“I am glad you can see,” Atticus jokes with a small smile, placing his glasses back on the bridge of his nose. “I have grown a fondness for you… I wouldn’t say it grew as time went on, I thought you were attractive when I first saw you.”

Your eyes stayed on him as he spoke, taking in his words silently. “I’m sorry I couldn’t tell you at a romantic moment, over a nice dinner or something you would have preferred. But since you asked, I might as well confess,” his words flowed out naturally, like he was in front of a jury, confessing something minute.

“Prove it,” you challenge. It was mostly a joke, very obviously too, but part of you wanted to know he wasn’t just saying those things to get your hopes up. No, Atticus wouldn’t do that. Then again, you only knew so much.

“A kiss then?” He straightened himself and sighed. “I usually wait a bit, but lord only knows how long I’ve got. I might as well kiss you before I can’t.”

Your head went from a slow to a quick nod. Yeah, that is true. Getting a kiss in wouldn’t hurt anyone, definitely not you. Your face was beyond warm and if Atticus dared to touch your face now, he might ask if you’re sick, which wouldn’t be preferred for obvious reasons. “Yeah… yeah, that will do,” you mutter with a smile.

Atticus nodded and moved until your thigh squished against his. It was very obvious he hadn’t done such a thing in a long while, he was beyond rusty with you in his hold, his hands moving from your shoulders to your upper arms. The smell of sandalwood filled your nose as he moved his glasses to his head, letting them sit carefully before leaning in just enough.

His lips were warm, thankfully. You could only hope yours were too since it seemed your spirit left your body at that moment. Atticus was just as gentle when he kissed as when he spoke, keeping it intense enough to be romantic but not too much to be something more. Your hands, almost like instinct, help his lapel, needing to keep him close.

If only he could kiss you forever.

₊˚⊹ᰔಇ.

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[layniapetrovnaaa]

A Ruby Necklace and a Confession

Request/Summary: heyy can I request an Atticus Finch x f!reader where they've been friends for a while and both are developing feelings? maybe some jealousy on his part and a cheesy confession at the end? I've been simping for him pretty hard lately and was shocked by the lack of fics 😭

Warnings: Fem-Reader, Set in the 1930s, Flirting, Pining, Jealousy, a smooch, Alexandra being Alexandra, its basically all fluff and if I missed any please lmk!

Word Count: 2.6k

This is an x reader written in 3rd person pov with she/her pronouns

I think I started writing this fic like four years ago so bare with me 😭

***

Atticus Finch is not a man who takes relationships lightly. Professional, familial, platonic, and certainly not romantic. It takes time for him to develop relationships with people and connect with them. Of course, he’s a charmer, there’s no denying that. All of the Finch siblings are, Alexandra being the occasional exception; but to actually connect with someone, that was a different story for the small-town lawyer. 

It had been a few years since he had been involved in the Tom Robinson trial. Things in Maycomb had cooled off a little bit, but the Finch’s were still slightly on the outs, I guess that's why she took to them so quickly, and them to her. 

She came to town unannounced. How Stephanie Crawford didn't know about her settling into Maycomb until she was already living across the street would always be a mystery to Atticus (and Miss Stephanie, as a matter of fact). She came quietly, though her presence was anything but. She was the latest and most juicy gossip Maycomb’s had in a while. For what reason, Atticus was once again in the dark (he didn't partake in the drama and gossip much). She seemed like a nice girl, but according to Maycomb, she was a bit too boyish and independent for the county’s liking. And besides that, she was educated and had been sent to a women's college in New York (that much Stephanie Crawford knew). A total outrage. 

Atticus met her that next Saturday morning when Maudie had invited the Finch's over for breakfast. Scout took to her quickly, as did Jem; though her pretty face made the confident young teen a bit more awkward than he would have hoped. 

There was no denying she was pretty, what with the way her hair perfectly complimented her complexion and her eyes and smile rivaled to be her brightest feature. But it was her spirit that drew Atticus Finch to the young woman. She was smart, witty, funny, and vivacious. On that Saturday morning, they talked about books and the world and every little thing. They were both smitten instantly.

After their initial meeting, the father of two would often chat from across the street with his young neighbor. One morning when she had mentioned that she was in need of a job, he had the bright idea of hiring her as his secretary (of sorts). She thanked him with a home-cooked meal and informed him of her plan to work for him until she could find a position better suited for her degree. He, of course, agreed and understood, knowing that Maycomb was a small town. 

She started the following week and Atticus spent most of his days showing her around and training her for the job. They grew close during this time, there were inside jokes and meaningful glances. She would bring him lunch occasionally as well, staying to eat with him (and flirt with him). Though, neither would dare say that there was anything more behind their fraternizing besides honest friendship, yet, Maycomb and Alexandra Handcock felt otherwise.

“She is too young for you, Atticus. That’s all I’m trying to say.“

“Thank you for reminding me I’m an old man, Zandra.” Atticus teased. It seemed as though, the older he got, the more the sarcastic remarks seemed to fall right out of his mouth (the sarcasm reserved for his siblings and occasionally Jem and Scout).

“That’s not-- I’m just trying to warn you. I know work has kept you quite busy as of late, but this younger generation, well they are just somethin’ else I tell you.” Alexandra aggressively stirred whatever it was she was cooking over the stove.” Atticus, you’ve seen ‘er. The short dresses and red lipstick, it’s disgraceful! Is that someone you want Scout looking up to?” she turned around to face him now, wooden spoon in one hand, the other on her hip. 

Atticus stands picking up his coat and hat.

“She's a very fine young woman, Zandra.” is all he says as he puts on his hat. He decides to leave it at that. He could defend his young friend all he wanted, but Alexandra wouldn’t budge. “We better get going now, thank you for lunch.” He then calls to the children that it's time to leave.

“You mind her, Atticus!” his sister shouts from the kitchen, unable to leave her cooking.

“Have a good day, Zandra.” Atticus calls as he, Scout, and Jem exit the landing.

Atticus was used to his sister’s comments, but there was something about their earlier conversation that kept his mind occupied during the car ride back to Maycomb. Why hadn't he denied her insinuations that there was something more than friendship between him and his secretary? And why had he left so quickly after she brought it up? He knew it was best to nip Alexandra's accusations and insinuations in the bud, but normally he humored her gossiping a bit more. 

***

“Cal!” Atticus called through that house as he shrugged off his coat. “Would you mind making an extra serving of supper tonight? I invited our neighbor over for dinner...again.” Cal, who had popped her head out of the kitchen doorway, grinned at the single father. “Yessir.” 

Then came the thumping of footsteps. Scout (of course) came bursting into the hallway with a goofy grin. “Oh, Atticus.” she giggled, her feet were still planted where they originally stopped but she leaned her back shoulders against the wall behind her. Atticus raised an eyebrow at her, amused by her antics. “Yes, Scout?” He hangs up his coat and slips off his shoes. She watches him for a moment, a playful grin once again tugging at her lips. “Nothin’.”

And she bolts to Jem's room. 

Everyone knew of Atticus’ crush before he did. It was a hot topic among the kids and Calpernia did her best to shut the rumors down even though she too knew of the events unfolding. It was impossible to miss. The longing stares and slight stutter was most unusual for the father of two. The fact that he invited her over for supper nearly every night didn't help either. How could he not invite her over again when here she was looking utterly radiant flipping through the pages of her book, and here he was, unable to focus on his reading as he admired her. Maybe the gossip wasn't gossip.  Jem and Scout had gone to bed about an hour ago and Calpernia had just left. Atticus had offered Cal a ride, nearly insisting, but she simply shook her head and gave the man a knowing smile, closing the door quietly behind her. 

“What are you starin’ at Mr.Finch?” the young woman flirts with a shy smile.

“Oh, just thinking.” He closes his book. “Are you traveling back north to see your folks for the holidays?”

“I’m not sure yet, I haven't thought about it too much to be completely honest.” she closes her book too, bringing her legs down from off the chair she was sitting in and instead crossing her legs. “I haven't got too much family left around anyways.” 

“Well, if you'd like, you're welcome to join us at the landing for Christmas this year. Jack is coming to town next week. I know he and the children would be quite thrilled to see you there.” 

“Oh I'm sure he would.” you roll your eyes and Atticus hums humorously at your exasperation. 

She had already met Jack once before. He came for a week to visit for Scout's 10th birthday. The youngest finch was beguiled by the girl instantly. He had a thing for fiery women and the more he pushed the more she argued and he ate up every second of it. She liked Jack and his eccentric personality and wicked tongue. He was fun to flirt and contest with but both knew he was not the brother she was focused on. Unfortunately for all, that did not seem clear to Atticus. 

“Does your sister know you're inviting me over? From what Jack and the children have said I don't think she’s too fond of me.” 

“She’s not too fond of anyone, don't dwell on it. Besides, I think you deserve the chance for her to get to know you properly before forming any opinions.”

***

Christmas was rapidly approaching and it was decided that Atticus would be bringing the young neighbor along this year. Atticus made it known that she was not obligated to bring any presents but she insisted on getting Scout and Jem something for welcoming her so graciously. She didn't forget about the older man either, but he insisted on her not spending a cent on him, so instead she baked him something new every week in December, that he could not say no to. 

It was a later night at the firm and quite frigid out as well. On nights like this, she would wait patiently for Atticus to finish up and he would give her a ride back home with him. Busying herself with some last-minute gift wrapping, she hears the door swing open.

“There she is.” 

“Jack Finch.” 

She stands and makes her way over to the raven-haired man, giving him a quick hug and peck on the cheek. 

“Where’s that brother of mine?” he asks but calls loudly enough for Atticus to hear. 

As Atticus makes his way to the front of the building, his brother inquires about the scattered wrapping and cheap toys. 

“Ah, that's right. Alexandra did say that we'd have a floozy attending Christmas this year.” And the remark is barely out of his mouth before she slaps his shoulder and he feigns hurt. At the same time, Atticus had made his way out of the office and was quickly embracing his brother. The two exchange pleasantries and she continues wrapping but not for long before Jack starts on his devilry again. 

“Hmm, I do wonder what my caring ol’ brother got you. Perhaps a silk slip for you to wear for him?” Jack teased.

“That’ll do, Jack.” Atticus speaks calmly, yet the hint of embarrassment in his voice is unmistakable. 

She throws a present at the younger Finch (which he catches).

“Jack Finch you oughta be the naughtiest man in Maycomb county!” she chirped. “You’re lucky your older sister wasn't around to hear you say that.” She can’t help but laugh slightly, imagining what Alexandra would do if she heard that innuendo that had slipped passed his lips. 

“Besides,” she starts, straightening her dress. “Atticus and I agreed that we wouldn't exchange gifts due to the economic climate of my wallet.” she couldn't help but joke, and the brothers couldn't help but smile.

*** 

Christmas had finally come and so far it had gone better than anyone expected. Dinner had been lovely, there was absolutely no denying Alexandra's cooking. Both of the women had definitely had their guard up at the start of the holiday but as the dinner and questions went on Atticus’ guest seemed to be passing more of Alexandra’s tests than either had expected and therefore she was slightly less hostile than anticipated. Or maybe it was just that it was Christmas, either way, Atticus was grateful that she seemed to be feeling somewhat cheerful. In fact, she had tasked the young lady with dealing out the presents (as she was not quite trusted in the kitchen just yet). 

There were three more presents for the girl to pass out. One large box and two smaller ones. The larger one had a big nametag on it that spelled out Jem in large text. Clearly from Scout as she was not one for subtlety. The other was for Atticus’ sister Caroline, who she seemed to click with instantly that night. The last small box was thinner and more rectangular-shaped. It wasn't wrapped, but only because there was no need. The box was a soft velvet and a deep crimson color. The only decoration that adorned it was a simple green ribbon and a smaller nametag on it. Taking a peek at the name, her heart skipped a beat. It was her name on the card and that handwriting she could recognize anywhere. She admired the gift for another moment before she felt a presence behind her. 

“About that,” Atticus drawls, gently taking the velvet box in his hands. “Could I have a word with you? Out back, maybe?”

“You didn't.” she says with mock seriousness.

“I’m afraid so.” he jokes back.

And Jack Finch is just grinning. 

She follows him out onto the back porch of the landing. An elongated rocking chair was nestled in the corner surrounded by pale yellow gardenias. As she sat, she noticed the small wrapped box that was held firm in the older man’s long fingers. 

“So, I suppose that’s for me then.” she nods meekly to the gift.

“Indeed.”

The giving and receiving is gentle and warm. She delicately unties the ribbon and pulls out the dainty necklace with a teardrop-shaped ruby hanging from the middle.

“Oh, Atticus I--” 

“How bout I put it on for you, hm?” His question is more rhetorical, and as she shuts her gaping mouth she realizes that that might be the first time he’s ever interrupted her. She hands him the necklace and turns so he will have an easier time putting it on. She sits up straighter and shivers lightly as his fingertips sweep over the back of her neck. She quickly feels her cheeks and ears heat from the intimate contact. 

Once it’s on, she turns back to face him. 

“I don’t know what to say-- thank you, Atticus.” 

He smiles at her and she gives him a heartfelt hug, wrapping her hands around his neck. 

He takes a deep breath in and his smile fades a bit as they pull away. 

“There’s somethin’ else, too” He places his hands on his knees and looks at her very matter-of-factly. And she looks cautious but listens willingly.

“We’ve-- uh-- We’ve gotten to know each other rather well since your moving here. The children seem to really like you being around and all.” He pauses and looks a bit shy but gains some confidence when he sees her grinning face. 

“They're both such lovely people.” she reassures and he gives an appreciative but still slightly nervous glance and suddenly she can't take it anymore. All the compliments, dinners, time spent together, and now the necklace. This beautiful necklace. No one had ever made her feel so loved or welcomed and she couldn't help herself when her eyes kept flicking down to his pouty lips and she's trying to focus on what he's about to say but sooner than either of them realize, they are leaning in and closing their eyes and her lips are pressed against his. One of his hands moves to her shoulder as the two fall deeper into the kiss. The nervous tension that filled the air dissipated entirely. As they separate she can't help but bite her bottom lip and look up at him. It's obvious on his face that her alluring look makes him want to indulge himself again, but instead, he chuckles a little and so does she. 

“I'm sorry–” she apologizes. “What did you want to tell me?”

“Well, I was just hopin’ you'd maybe like to be around a little more even.” he leans back slightly, and the hand that was on her shoulder is now rubbing circles over her knuckles. “You're a wonderful gal, and if you’ll have me, I'd love to take you out somewhere nice– court you properly.” 

“I would love that.”

The pair grin goofily at each other.

“Merry Christmas.”

“Merry Christmas, Atticus.”

[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.

[cowboy-lover69]

Do you ever think Atticus and Reader will like have an extremely late night because Reader won't shut up about gossip around the town, but like she doesn't mean harm by it, but Atticus is like 😐, sorry if this seems boring but I love your fics x

Midnight Gossip

hey, this was going to be longer but I can't seem to write longer fics as much as I want too, when I started writing this I was doing Y/N but it felt very clunky to write with so I just made an OC to replace it with, I hope you don't mind!

The time was getting onto around 9:30 pm, and Atticus was just about at his limit. He laid in bed, the book he was reading sat on his chest, flipped over. He groggily looked at Alice, who was rambling excitedly about the town gossip, which didn’t particularly interest him, especially when it was this late. Alice was from the city, he didn’t think she would pick up the small town mannerisms of the other woman who lived near them, but it didn’t seem that Alice struggled with that. He didn’t usually mind her gossip, he enjoyed her company, and if she enjoyed something he would do his best to enjoy that as well, but he was struggling tonight.

“And you know, Honey, I heard that Miss Stephanie has been having some sort of a aff---”

Atticus cut her off, in a need to get some sleep. This was far later than he would like to be up. 

“Dear, it’s getting on late, and I hate to interrupt, but I have to sleep,” Atticus said, putting his book on the bedside table and rolling over to face Alice. She seemed a bit dampened after that, but not enough for Atticus to read in her pale face. His glasses were off so he currently could not see her face well, and he was as tired as a dog. 

“Oh, okay. Well, no worries Honey, we can talk more tomorrow” Alice says.

“Yes, more tomorrow,” Atticus says exhausted, but also satisfied she didn’t get too upset. He rolls over and shuts off the lamp before closing his eyes and drifting off to sleep the best he could. 

The next morning Atticus noticed Alice had been acting a bit off. She left for work far earlier than she had to, which was strange because she always dreaded work. He worried something he had said last night had upset her, which he never meant to do. 

Atticus out of his worry decided to ask his sister, in some ways, and for some things, he trusted her opinion. Alexandra was sitting out on the front porch, she glared out into the sunny summer street. Her sun had shaded the top of her face. Atticus stepped out on the porch, putting on the hat he had stored in his hand so he could shield himself from the sun. 

“Where is Scout and Jem?” Atticus first asked.

“Just down the street at Miss Maudie's, I am sure she keeps them entertained.” she vaguely jested down the street with her hands.

There was a moment of silence where Atticus debated asking for advice. Alexandra has never been the best at advice, but he was sure it would help

“Sister, has Alice been acting a bit off this morning, or am I just not thinking right?” 

Alexandra perked up and looked at Atticus, her eyebrows raised a bit. 

“Acting strange? A little, but you know her better than I do, gosh. Maybe you should just ask her if everything is alright.” 

Atticus was nervous to ask Alice just in case she would deflect the question like she tended to do, but it seemed his sister didn’t help much. 

The next time they were alone together was the next night. He was reading and she was silent, not a word. She was lying on her back, her eyes closed but she was not sleeping. This proved to Atticus something was off. At night she would always talk to Atticus at least a bit. If she didn’t do that she was hanging on him. Atticus set his book on his bedside table and rolled over to face Alice. 

“Everything alright, dear?” Atticus said in the softest tone he could muster. 

“Huh me, am fine, just tired”

Just like he thought. She was deflecting. Or maybe there was nothing actually wrong, he thought. He decided to ask again.

“Are you sure? You've been acting off, and am worried I hurt your feelings.” Atticus took his hand and rubbed her forearm. His hand was rough against her soft skin, he worried it wasn’t helping much. 

“It’s silly really” Alice says, retracting her arm slightly.  

“Nothing is silly, tell me please.” 

Alice sighed and glanced away, before returning her eyes back to Atticus. Her blue eyes looked slightly saddened, her hair covering them a bit.

“I guess I never thought about how you felt about me talking so much, like I do. I'm worried I've been bothering you without even realizing.”

That's it, Atticus thought. He was glad that she wasn’t mad at him. He wasn’t glad she was feeling a bit self conscious. He feels back for making her feel that way, but there probably not much he could have done in the way of preventing it.

“Oh dear, I apologize for making you feel like you bother me, you don’t. I was just tired, and usually I love hearing you speak, but sometimes I need my rest. It wasn’t anything against you, dear.” Atticus maintains eye contact with Alice, hoping to see her worries ease. 

Alice nods slightly before Atticus speaks again. “Please dear, feel free to come to me if you ever feel upset again, or for anything you need. I love you and I want to make sure you're as pleasant and happy as you can be.” 

Alice smiles at him, and places her hand on his face caressing his cheek before moving to kiss him. The kiss was soft and romantic, no sense of desire, just romance. Her lips were soft and slow as they kissed. They kissed for a while, at least it felt like that to him. She pulled away, and looked at Atticus again. 

“Thank you, for being so caring and patient with me Atticus, and thank you for putting up with my gossip. I will do my best to try to keep in mind your feelings more often.” Alice says.

“Thank you dear, I think it’s getting a bit late and we should call it a night.”

Alice nods and Atticus rolls over and turns off the lamp illuminating the room. Then they sleep. 

MasterList

[missviviii]

guys if i revive myself, should i write about tkam (more specifically, atticus finch. im so sorry he has a chokehold on me rn)

[spcewild]

Boundaries & Fandom I will write for !

Just restating games/Fandom I will write for ;

Rdr (1&2)

Re (resident evil - Leon Kennedy, Carlos, Luis Sera, etc.)

SR (Saints row - all main characters [Johnny gat, Carlos, Shaundi, etc.])

COD (Black ops, newer cod games, etc.)

Mortal Kombat (1 & 11)

Borderlands (1,2,3 + Tales From Borderlands only!)

Spiderman; across the multiverse

TKAM [To kill a mockingbird] (ADULT characters + platonic/parent like relationship w/ others)

DBH [Detriot: Become Human] (any ADULT characters and ADULT androids)

The Walking Dead [Rick Grimes, Daryl Dixon, Shane Walsh, Maggie, Glenn, etc.] (ALL ADULT CHARACTERS)

The Punisher (All ADULT main characters)

The Outsiders (All Characters EXECPT for antagonists/Socs [NOT INCLUDING CHERRY])

Rumble Fish (Motorcycle Boy, Rusty James, Patty, etc...)

Tex (All main characters)

TMNT (Bayverse only)

《☆》

What I refuse to write for:

Character x character, minor x adult, incest, weird kinks, actors/real people including streamers/youtubers (I simply do not want to make them uncomfortable even if they consent to fics abt them..), etc etc. (Pretty much just the weird and illegal stuff <3)

Genres:

Smut, fluff, angst, etc!

Boundaries:

(What I am and am not comfortable with)

What I refuse to write for will either be because I am simply uninterested in writing it, or it makes me uncomfortable. If you are unsure if I am comfortable with writing a certain thing/idea, PLEASE ASK!! I will not be mad! :)

I AM okay with being reblogged! It is very welcome, and I appreciate it! But along with this and reposting my work (which I am also okay with), I must receive credit.

Which pretty much means don't steal my work lol

If you wish to address me in any way, you can refer to me as:

Spce, space, spcewild, and wild. Or any other nicknames you may have for me! <3 (as long as it isn't inappropriate, I do not wish to be referred to in any sexual way)

(Pronouns are listed in my bio if needed!)

I AM also okay with writing what I believe is called a match-up...? (Correct me if I'm wrong pls lmao) where you describe yourself, and oc, persona, etc. And I get to match you up with who I think you match the best with romantically or platonically!

I am ALSO okay with writing for male, female, gender neutral, intersex, trans, and any other LGBTQ+ readers!! I will also include POC readers, chubby, thin, or any body size of reader! Not only this, but if you wish for the reader to have a specific physical quality you want me to write for (and can be an insecurity) pls let me know! :)

Lastly, I am okay with writing for readers with disabilities, mental issues, etc. (Please correct me if I mistake anything when writing for specific things like this! <3)

if anyone has any questions feel free to ask <3

Requests: OPEN

[jestersprivilegee]

High and Dry

ch. two

thomas j. x reader

Wc: 3k

A confrontation in the hallway leads you to explore your emotions deeper before eventually pushing them down again.

Notes: I love TKAM it’s so underrated 🫶🫶 expect a LOT of yap about it in this fic. And if you haven’t read it GO READ IT or at least watch the movie 😝😝

The first day of school hadn’t gone much better.

So far, your third and eighth periods were rowdy, everyone’s names seemed so hard to remember, and you had the same lunch and conference as Thomas.

Avoiding him was off the table. It felt like the universe was doing everything in its power to force you together. After school, you rushed to pack up and get out of there. All you wanted to do was sink into your bed and cry, letting out all the pent up stress out in the unhealthiest way possible.

But that wouldn’t be an option for you, would it?

As you were walking out, you passed Thomas in the hallway. He held a copy of To Kill a Mockingbird in his hands, a novel that you would start with your students next week. Today all you did was ice breakers and let scared, fresh out of middle school teenagers mingle with one another. First year of high school is no doubt terrifying, you still remember your first day like it was yesterday. Thomas was by your side 80% of the day, it was the most horrific and fun day of your highschool career. Then it all crashed and burned, because nothing good lasts forever.

“Y/n,” he stops you. You inhale sharply and pause in your tracks.

“What?”

“Look,” he sighs, “I don’t want this year to be hard on us. Can we just forget everything that happened? Put it all behind us?”

You stared at him. He wore an exhausted drag on his face, and it almost made you consider it. But you weren’t the same girl that’d do whatever he asked just because he was cute. So instead of complying, you barked out a bitter laugh full of annoyance from the already stressful day.

“How do you expect me to forget everything that happened? Thomas, you left me. Not just for France, you left me when I thought you were my friend. When everyone turned against me, I thought you would be mature enough to shut it down. Clearly, I was wrong. And clearly, you’re still the same guy from high school who abandoned me all those years ago.” You glared at him, voice spitting a bitter truth with every word.

Your words were like a bucket of ice getting dumped on him. It was a punch to the gut, a hefty dose of reality that he needed. He wronged you. Hearing you say it out loud only made him realize how fucked up what he did was. But, then again, when it all happened he was being influenced by his girlfriend to break it off with you. She was jealous after all, and Thomas was a little too close to you for her comfort.

You quickly walked off, leaving Jefferson to process what just happened. A noticeable sigh left him, but he didn’t stop you from your dramatic exit.

For some reason, you thought saying what you’ve wanted to say for years would feel good. For a moment it did. Then the situation came crashing down on you, and you ultimately felt like shit. You knew the right thing to do would be forgive and forget, but damn that was hard to do.

This was Thomas Jefferson, after all. You knew who he was—at least you thought you did. When you were well immersed in the world of Jefferson, you knew every little detail about him. From his favorite food (macaroni and cheese) to his favorite color (magenta) to what he hates most (entitled people and slow walkers). You were with him through the awkward middle school stages and got a glimpse of his first relationship.

And that’s when it all went downhill for you and him.

You weren’t sure if his first girlfriend had something to do with it, but you sure hope that they were still together if it cost you a fucking friendship. After all that, at least let someone win instead of both sides drowning in misery.

—

For the first time in his life, Thomas felt unsure of himself.

He truly didn’t know what to do or how to handle this. He tried to apologize, then immediately got shut down by you. Of course the first thing his mind did was overthink. Analyze every word and every little movement to see what went wrong; and the only thing he could uncover is that he didn’t actually say ‘I’m sorry.’

Okay, he thought, so he’d have to spit the words out somehow. But how was that possible when you did everything in your power to avoid any interaction with him? When he walked into the teacher's lounge during his lunch period, you left hurriedly. When he saw you in the hallway, the immediate hitch in your breath and the dread in your voice when you asked what he wanted was enough to send his mind spiraling.

It was almost like you didn’t want to talk to him. As if you didn’t care to make up with him, but were you not missing him as badly as he misses you? It was seemingly impossible for him to wrap his head around why you were against talking things out.

Yes, he treated you like shit. But it was high school! Shouldn’t he get some sort of pass? The way you’re acting is just so immature. Who still holds on to high school grudges? You, apparently.

He decided to keep these destructive thoughts to himself and continue with the plan of talking to you.

The next day rolled around, the bell ringing at 8:30, and he found himself at the front of the class again, calling out attendance.

He decided to go against the group lesson plans you and Hamilton created; instead, he assigned a journal prompt asking the question, “When should we forgive a wrong doing, and under what circumstances?”

As he walked around the room, looking over young fourteen-year-olds who just wanted to see their friends and not have to worry about abstract philosophical questions, he reflected on his own circumstance. With you, because what else? He hadn’t expected to be faced with you again after destroying your social life. He needed some form of closure saying he’s not an evil person for doing one evil act.

One student wrote: I think we should forgive wrong doings when the person apologizing is genuinely showing regret or remorse. If they apologize but don’t fully mean it, then they don’t deserve full acceptance for that apology.

Another wrote: It depends on how drastic the wrong doing was. I think if a person kills another person's entire family, they have the right to not forgive them. But if it’s something minor like you said something mean and said sorry, then it’s okay and doesn’t make you a bad person.

He read paragraph after paragraph and tried to apply it to his own life. Somehow, seeing the perspective of the younger generation may enlighten him. But all he could think about was how shitty he was for putting that on another human being.

Not even for because it was you; he felt like a piece of shit because he willingly caused pain in another person’s life. He swore to himself he’d never cause that kind of pain in another person again, but first he needs to make things right. With you, with himself, and with anyone else he may have wronged.

—

When you heard that Jefferson was using a different lesson plan than yours, you could only think of how stuck-up it was for him to do so.

You and Hamilton spent so much time and energy crafting activities and slideshows to keep your classes entertained. He could do whatever he wants, you’re not his boss, but it was a little inconsiderate. It was an indirect way of saying he won’t work with you, he doesn’t want to attempt to, and another way of calling you a dumb woman.

Or was that just you misinterpreting small actions? The lines were very, very blurred.

“Day two down,” Alexander grinned. “My students liked the games. They said their favorite was guessing the zoomed in pictures,” he blabbered on, and you couldn’t help but tune him out. You just held weak eye contact and hummed in agreement or little yeahs here and there.

The sudden warmth from the classroom hit you, and had this chair always been so uncomfortable? Or was it just the unbearable pressure of knowing this will be your life for the next year? You weren’t sure, but all you did know is Alex just asked you a question and you didn’t hear it. Laugh and pretend it was a joke, a flawless plan. Only he saw right through you.

“Hey, what’s wrong?” He frowned, shifting forward in his seat.

Silence. You looked down and fiddled with your thumbs, opening your mouth to talk. “Nothing, it’s just…I don’t know. I don’t even know where to start. I guess I’m just anxious for the rest of this year.” You added sheepishly, “and a little hurt that Jefferson didn’t use our lesson plans.”

“Ah. Y’know, I spoke to him this morning,” he starts, “and I get why you don’t like him. He can be a real asshole when he wants. So preoccupied with himself that he barely said good morning to me!”

“Wow, really? That’s surprising.”

“Is it?” He gives you a pointed look.

You crack a smile. “Okay, I guess not.”

“Don’t worry about him, Y/n. If he wants to use his own lessons, let him. If he wants to be an asshole, let him. He’ll be missing out on how great we are.” Alex says, matter-of-factly.

You shrugged weakly. “He tried to talk to me yesterday.”

“Oh? Pray tell.”

“Well, he said he didn’t want the year to be hard on him and he wanted to put it all behind us. Like, no motherfucker, you can’t just expect me to immediately fall back to my old habits of conforming with everything you said!” You rant, groaning in frustration.

“Conforming with everything he said?” Alex echoed.

“Yeah…I was pretty down bad. There was a time where I’d do anything for him if he asked.” The confession slips past you before you can think about what it might cause.

“Really? Him?” He blinks, eyebrows shooting up in surprise.

“Yes, him. He used to be so nice though. You’ve gotta understand where my teenage self was coming from,” you chuckled.

“You don’t still feel that way about him, do you?”

A pause reaches your words. You didn’t, right? Of course there was that lingering feeling of something about him being so attractive, like it was reeling you in. “…No,” you finally respond. “No, I don’t. But he is handsome; I won’t deny that.”

He nods, an unreadable expression on his face. “Interesting.”

“Don’t give me that look.”

“What? This is Jefferson we’re talking about, excuse me for being cautious because you have a little crush on him.” He scoffs.

“Okay, first of all, I do not have a crush on him. We’re supposed to be the teachers here, not the highschoolers, so grow up. Second of all—alright, there’s only one thing. But still! Show some maturity.”

“I’m just saying, you did ask me to be your wingman.” He shrugged, a smug smirk on his face.

“That was before I saw it was him,” you scowled.

He laughed, muttering, “whatever you say.”

You rolled your eyes and mumbled something along the lines of him having selective hearing. Alex checked his watch; he was the type of person to wear clock watches which honestly, you could respect if he didn’t make it a big deal. He let out a heavy sigh as if to say he should be leaving soon (but he’ll probably stay and talk to you longer anyway.)

“It's getting time for me to leave. If he gives you any more trouble, send him my way. He’ll learn soon enough.” A wicked grin spreads on his face, and you swat his shoulder.

“Stop! We can’t be too mean,” you shake your head.

“We’ve already established we won’t! I’m just saying if he wants to be a dick to both of us, we can play those games right back.”

You pause, mouth hung open slightly and brows furrowed. A part of you was screaming that it was wrong. Treat others the way you want to be treated, it said. Just because they wronged you in the past doesn’t mean they haven’t changed.

And the other part was a tiny, angry little ball of pure evil that said ‘REVENGE.’

But Alexander Hamilton had a way with words, and the sly, reassuring smile he wore only drew you to the latter of the options. So you pushed down your virtues and nodded. Somehow you knew it would come back to bite you.

—

The next week came quicker than expected (or wanted).

Your students seemed to warm up to you nicely, the majority of them were sweet, but of course there were a handful of little shits occupying your time. They liked to gossip, specifically about the other teachers. You even heard them saying how some of their friends had either Hamiltons or Jefferson’s class, and you heard negative and positive about both.

Surprisingly, the kids seemed to be really fond of Jefferson. It came as a shock to hear that since you had this idea of him in your mind that he’s evil, but every day you doubted whether that was true or not.

You sat in your classroom, replying to concerned parents about the content of To Kill a Mockingbird. A heavy sigh escaped you as you answered the fifth email asking if assigning this book would be appropriate for fourteen-year-olds.

The knock on the door seemed to phase right past you as you didn’t notice it. Only once it opened is when you tore your tired eyes from the computer, and locked stares with Thomas. An instant frown fell on your lips.

“Good morning,” he said. “You look happy to see me.”

“Do I?” You mumbled. Despite that, a small grin cracked on his face.

“I brought you a coffee.” He set a Starbucks cup on your desk. Genuine surprise crossed your face, and instead of immediately responding with a thank you, you blinked.

“Why?”

His brows furrowed slightly. “Because it’s a nice thing to do? Just say thank you and accept it, L/n,” he huffed.

“I don’t know…it’s not laced with anything, is it?”

He deadpanned. “How’d you know?”

At that, you let out an airy laugh, and a satisfied smile curled on his lips. It felt so natural being with him and laughing with him. Just like old times, before everything happened. Man, you really need to get over that, don’t you?

“Thank you,” you mutter, grabbing the cup and taking a hesitant sip. He watched you expectantly, taking a small step back.

It was exactly what you liked: an iced white mocha with sweet cream foam and extra extra caramel.

He must’ve noticed that you figured it out, because a suppressed smirk was on his face, and he took a sip of his hot coffee to conceal it. How he remembered the order you’ve adored since 8th grade, you weren’t sure. Man has an insane memory to recall that. And it was sweet how he even thought of you in the first place to get you coffee.

“Anyway, I also wanted to ask what you were planning to do with your students to start the book,” he broke the silence, snapping you out of your thoughts.

“Hm? Oh, I was going to explain to them the background of the characters, then read the first chapter aloud.” You cleared your throat, breaking eye contact.

“No work or anything though, right?”

“Right. I’m thinking of having them fill out a character sheet later this week,” you add.

“Could you give me a copy of that if you make it?” He asks.

You narrow your eyes slightly. “I guess.”

“This is only my second time reading it, and to be completely honest, I don’t remember much from the first. How many times have you read it?” He folded his arms over his chest, and the muscles in his forearms flickered.

“This’ll be my fifth time reading it, and I’ve watched the movie I think six times now?”

“Jesus. Is it that good?” He cocked an eyebrow.

“Yes, it is. Atticus is such a respectable character and I have to resist the urge to yap about him,” your eyes lit up, and a grin spread across both of your faces.

“Don’t worry, if you yap I’ll listen,” he chuckled.

You scoffed, rolling your eyes playfully. “I’m sure you want to listen to me over analyze every word he says.”

“I’m serious. I love hearing what others have to say.”

His words genuinely make you freeze up. Unsure of how to respond, you simply nodded and mumbled gratitude.

An awkward silence falls in the room. So awkward, infact, that he takes a drawn sip of his drink, staring at the wall behind you. He seemed as if he wanted to express something more than lesson plans, and you were fully expecting a comment on the other day in the hallway, or a speech about highschool. But instead, he started walking out, murmuring, “I’ll see you at lunch.”

Your head falls in your hands and take a deep breath. You’ve never been so awkward around someone you’ve considered a best friend. Sure, there’s always bound to be awkward moments in social interactions, but god that was painful.

The bell eventually rang and your first round of students rolled in. You inhaled deeply and forced a smile, trying to numb the embarrassment from the previous interaction as you started teaching.

Explaining the context of when and where the book takes place, who the characters are, and reading the first chapter seven times in one day proved to be more exhausting than you thought. But this is what you get for choosing to be a teacher: you get bratty teenagers and unresolved drama from your former years.

And maybe a hint of romance, too.

[dastardly-imbecile]

A friend and I wrote this and I regret it immensely.

Atticus Finch x GN reader

You sigh as you feel his fingers slowly working through the tangles and knots in your hair. The feeling of his hands softly stroking through it like heaven, and the soft sound of his voice lulls you into a half-sleep.

His deep voice was the only thing you heard. You had moved from sitting next to him to laying on the couch with your head in his lap, resting on his legs. The children had gone to sleep a few hours prior, Calpurnia had also left. But not before smiling at you and Atticus.

You had a feeling that she’d known what you two were gonna get up to later in the night. For now, though, it’s only the peaceful drone of his voice and the luxurious feeling of your all needs being taken care of by someone else. You suddenly realize that, for the past few minutes, you hadn’t been focusing on the story at all and had no idea what was happening. “...What’s going on?”

He smiles down at you and sets the book down on the arm of the chair. “I don’t know myself.”

You stared up into his eyes, slowly and carefully moving your position so you were now on your back. “Well, it’s nice.” You murmured.

Your hand slowly traced his jawline, and soon enough he had taken your hand in his.

“You are quite a stunning sight.” He said, causing you to freeze slightly from the sudden…compliment...

You still weren’t used to all these small gestures of kindness that were showered upon you. From these absent compliments, to bouquets of wildflowers left in your room, to a quiet kiss on the neck or hand around your shoulders when you were least expecting it. If this relationship somehow didn’t work out - and it would, you felt it - then you had a feeling that you’d never be able to find another one with all this outpouring love.

The first time he had done anything, you just stopped trying to talk after hiding your face in your hands and from the stuttering. The beautiful wildflowers had been vivid against the dark brown wood of the small table. Atticus had gone up behind you and wrapped his arms around you. Bringing you close to his chest and putting his head on your own. No words were exchanged, he took too much pride in your embarrassment.

Even now, it still brought pause whenever it happened. But you were slowly falling into the cradle of his love, and it was the most comfortable you’d ever been. Meanwhile, Atticus was looking down at you, a perplexed look on his face, a small smile still hanging there.

“Don’t be so surprised. Beauty practically- emanates from you.”

You blush harder, and try to bury your head in his clothes, face pressing against his stomach. He laughs softly and gently turns your face towards him. Lifting you up slightly, he plants a kiss upon your forehead. You remember the first time he had done this.

“You’re gonna make them blow a fuse, Mr. Finch!” Calpurnia said. Watching you slowly crumble into a small ball, hiding your face in your hands.

“At least you don’t go into hiding.” He said with a slight smirk on his face.

You flicked his shoulder. “Rude.”

“You, my darling, are something that even the divine powers can never get enough of. I have never felt luckier than to have you in my arms.”

You blushed harder, taking the book off the armrest and shoving it in his face to hide his view from you.

“So feisty.” He laughed quietly. His bigger hand took the book and placed it back on the armrest. He then gently moved your head to face his again. “Darling, there’s no need to be disappointed. I can always hold you better when we’re in bed.”

[weirdassfandomwriter]

Reader x Boo Radley-AU

This is after what happened with Boo killing Bob Ewell. I’d also like to say this is a modern au and Boo is more social and has actually started coming into society after becoming friends with the Finch Family

Backstory

You used to live with your older brother Atticus Finch until you had been recognised for your artistic skills and given a place in an art college in New York. Of course you took up the opportunity, but now you have graduated and decided to come home to live with your brother for a little while until you get your own place in Maycomb. However some things have changed and your brothers old friend from school has been welcomed into society

[imperial-martian]

Masterlist [To Kill a Mockingbird]

Oneshots:

Atticus Finch

Standing Tall

[ballad-of-birdy-lamb]

Hiyaaaa!!! I’m on like some search for Atticus finch fics bc they are so rare and i am HUNGRY for some.

May i request an Atticus x baker + babysitter reader? Like his kids have been visiting this little bakery in town and Atticus decides to swing by to see if his kids ran off down there and meets reader?

I'm so full of love I could barely eat.

Atticus Finch x Gender neutral! Baker! Reader Summary: basic romantic headcanons of Atticus falling for baker! Reader Warnings: mention of violence (not put in detail, just the actions Mr. Ewell does after the trial) Word count: 1.2k A/N: I made the reader a baker only since it felt more in line with your request. And you're so real for searching for fics. ˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

Love isn’t a common thing for Atticus to pay attention to, especially since he’s so busy and a bit older. He’s got kids and their friends, work, and making sure everyone in his home is happy. There’s so much going on romantic love barely seeps in. It also was because he didn’t know how his kids would react to getting another partner, Jem didn’t need to think he moved on too fast from his mother or Scout persecuting the person he could have possibly brought home.

Every couple days he would walk home when he saw Scout and Jem running and begging him to take them to a bakery in town. It was quite odd that they would willingly go into stores without having reason. They always groaned when he brought them shopping, so it must have been a big deal for them to beg to go somewhere. He never took them on his own time since he saw it as no big deal, wanted to go home, and knew the prices were a bit high for the time.

It was one day that Calpurnia had stopped in his office to tell him she couldn’t find the kids and neither could Alexandra. He assured her that he would find them and told her to go back home, still shaken from not finding them. After work, he went around Maycomb searching for the kids before he stopped at the town’s bakery. He hadn’t been in it many times since the recession, and he didn’t feel the need to go into a store just for one thing.

When Atticus finally found Jem, Scout, and Dill, they were sitting at one of the tables, eating away at pieces of blueberry bread. He would go off on them the best he could and ask them how they got the money to even afford getting food from the place. Naturally, you would say you fed them since they asked so nicely.

Just the sight of you would cause him to hesitate to speak again. You’d go on about how sweet they were and how you gave them the food since the bakery couldn’t sell it but it was good enough to eat. Atticus would smile a little wider than Scout and Jem have seen in a long while, thanking you for not charging them. He’d get the two to leave, grabbing the bread and leaving with a small smile.

“Why are you smiling so much?” Scout would ask as they walked home, holding the bread in her hands. Atticus would shake off the question.

“I can’t smile?” He’d remark, patting her head softly as they continued down the road.

It would become more common for Atticus to go to the bakery after work, just going off to talk to you. Each day that Scout and Jem would wait for Atticus, they would look at the corner, waiting for him. And he comes from the other end of the road. Sometimes he would wait until he’s close enough to pipe up, giving them a spook sometimes.

Once the summer comes, they would try finding why he comes from a different area after work and would watch as he walks from the bakery. He’d be questioned an insane amount, specifically from Scout. Atticus would brush them off the best he could, telling them he was talking to a friend.

The romance would be gradual, he would come in to find Jem and Scout to get them home, jokingly telling you off for feeding them pastries before dinner. Of course, it wouldn't be the best joke since he isn’t very good with satire. Either way, he’d thank you for not charging them for the food and be off… even if he wanted to stay longer.

Atticus would stop by more often, simply talking to you about business, the normal old people talk. He would try keeping it casual enough to not make you uncomfortable since he isn’t too good with flirting, so even if he tried it would come off as awkward. Scout said it herself; the kind of humor Atticus tries to have can only truly be done well by a lady Finch.

You would naturally give Atticus the test pastries for him and his kids to try. You’d give him the job of tester since he’d come by so often.

It was most obvious to Jem and Scout as time goes on, they both knew it was because of you. Atticus’s gaze would linger on you, and he would hesitate to say they needed to leave.

One night when the bakery had closed, Atticus stayed back with you to make sure you could close the shop safely (at least that was his reasoning for it). He’d sit at the counter and watch you quietly go on about your day, the new pastries sold, and how things were doing back at your home.

When you had fully closed the shop, he would stop before you could turn away to go home and finally work up the nerve to ask you out. Even if Atticus had more experiences in life than he would prefer bragging about, he still falters with asking a woman out.

“I would like to take you out this Saturday…,” Atticus would draw on his sentence, smiling slightly, his hat held on his chest, close to his heart. Though he held the top of his hat, he could feel his fast heartbeat. “If you’re alright with the idea.”

Naturally, you would accept, and he would go home with a small smile, knowing that he could take you out. Atticus would bring you a plan to bring you to a nice restaurant, get his best clothes for the date, and get Aunt Alexandra to take care of Jem and Scout. Atticus could only hope they didn’t press him too hard on what was going on.

The date would go well, the food being nice and the conversations being the same. As calm as Atticus made himself out to be, his heart was pounding. He almost forgot how nerve wracking it is taking someone out. He would try his best being smooth about how he feels to the best he could, buttering you up but not enough to come off too strong.

Hiding how the relationship from the children wouldn’t be that prominent after several dates. Atticus never hides anything else from them, how he feels about you is theirs to know about since you would be around more often. Of course, they knew to an extent. Jem would just say he knows, and Scout would ask if he was too old to do something like that.

The relationship would stay nearly exclusive to the family, more so since he didn’t want word getting out and possibly getting someone on you for being associated with him. Though, Atticus is beyond loving to you. He’d still stop by the bakery to talk to you when you were free.

After the trial and with the rampage Mr. Ewell was having on anyone associated with it, he’d target you too. It would lead to Atticus trying to escort you more often from work and home. If Mr. Ewell continued his mistreatment of you, Atticus would suggest you move in with him. It would not only be for your protection but also because he wants you to finally live with him. He’s old, he won’t live forever, and he’d prefer living with you in his arms at night.

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

My TKAM masterlist

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[layniapetrovnaaa]

Heya! I’m so excited to see someone else who writes for To Kill a Mockingbird, so I gotta ask; how do you think Atticus would go about developing feelings and asking someone out? Thanks a bunch💕

Ahhh! yes we love tkam in this house lol. I am writing a little fic really similar to this too, so if you'd like to see this in story form, I'll be trying to get that up soon and you should check it out! Alright, now lets bust this out! I tried to make this a little more neutral, but reader did get a fem in some, so ignore that if its not your thing.

Also this is not proof read, so be wary and feel free to correct me!

I think I've mentioned this before, but it takes Atticus a while to develop feelings for someone

He likes to really take his time and get to know the person

You two would just spend time together a lot

You worked as his secretary at the firm and thats were you first met

Spending everyday with such a charming man can only stay platonic for so long

of course you would be respectful of his feeling towards you, if he seemed uninterested you would back off, but he never did

I think for the first few months he would mistake your flirting for friendliness

But when Jack comes to visit he kind of realizes how your charm is quite different around other people

Thats not to say you didn't flirt with Jack too (cause lets be honest who could resist)

But Atticus quickly picks up that there is a tenderness that you have when you interact with him that you don't have when with other people, like Jack

After that day, however, the air in the office is a bit different

Its tranquil with a mutual understanding that there is some underlying fondness between the two of you, but its hard to really give it a name or confine it by some sort of label

When the feelings really start, when he can't focus on his book, only you, he is in total denial

He is even in denial that he is in denial

Like he doesn't even realize what he's doing (but of course, Jack and Alexandra can)

Once he does realize his feelings, which happens on a regular ol' night, the two of you were reading silently together (he had invited you over for dinner for Scouts birthday and asked you to stay just for a bit longer even after the children had gone to bed)

It just hit him like a ton of bricks

he starts to notice a few little things here and there, things that he didn't particularly notice before

For example, your smile.

He always thought it was lovely, but he was more fascinated by your lips now. Just the color of them and the way that they looked at really an given time

and the same with your hands, when you would wear nail polish, when you wouldn't, how soft they were, that way that you would fidget with them when you got nervous or overly excited.

The way your fingers would delicately flip through the pages of your book, or pick up your pen and scribble something new down on his agenda

I don't want to get NSFW, but his gaze does occasionally turn a bit lustful

I think he would start complimenting you more physically as well

before, it was hard to spend more than an hour with the man without him complimenting your wit

But now its like every few minutes when you catch him staring

he’ll get slightly embarrassed and compliment your hair or outfit, makeup, jewelry, whatever you might be wearing

and you just cant take it anymore

so, one night when he's walking you home, you call him out

"Why wont you just ask me out?"

He sputters quite a bit for a moment before placing his hands behind his back and laughing at himself.

"Alright," he says fondly. "What would we do?"

"We could go dancing?" you spoke softly, flicking a piece of hair back and gazing at the man tenderly.

He chuckles, and you can tell he appreciates your suggestion

"I'm afraid I might be a bit too old for dancing now."

"That's a shame, I would have loved to see your moves." you grinned

He returns the look, fiddling with the chain of his watch

"I've got an idea." he starts, turning so that his profile faces you and stares up into the dark sky

"Pray tell."

"How's about I take you up to Montgomery for the day? Saturday. They've got loads of fine, fine shops there. Maybe we can find you a matching necklace for your favorite earrings?" he turns back.

Your hand subconsciously shoots up to the studs you had in your ears, the very ones of which he was speaking

Bashful in that he remembered, your eyes fall to your battered shoes.

"Or perhaps some new footwear?" you joke, looking up at him

His eyes fall to your feet and he lets out a chuckle, an amused smile staying on both your faces as you make eye contact once again

"New shoes it is."

You both smile

"I'll see you tomorrow." he signs off, taking your hand and placing a gentle kiss to your knuckles

"See you" and you're just beaming.

“Goodnight, Atticus."

"Goodnight." he smiles.

And its only once you see him enter his house that you realizes he's left you with his Jacket

What a flirt

[oldhollywoodimagines]

Let’s Get You To Bed

A/N: Not a request just something that I dreamed up. This is my first time writing anything for TKAM so please be gentle with me. 🤍

Pairing: Atticus Finch x Reader

Warnings: Bad writing, typos, terrible grammar, etc. slightly suggestive dialogue at the end if you squint really hard.

Word count: 1,125

Summary: Scout wakes up not feeling good and comes for help.

~*~

It was well past midnight when you heard it. The slow creak of a doors hinges followed by the light patter of a child’s feet. It wasn’t until your bleary eyes met her dark tear stained ones that you were fully awake. She stood quietly for a moment, hands clutching at her worn out teddy bear as she rocked back and forth on her heels.

You sat up on the edge of the bed gently, looking back over your shoulder to make sure that your sleeping husband, Atticus, remained asleep. He’d had a rough few days and deserved a good nights sleep.

Running a hand through your hair, your eyes once again connected with hers and you reached for her. Smiling softly when she wasted no time in coming to you, releasing her teddy bear and letting it fall to the floor with a gentle “thud”, she clambered onto your lap. Head resting in the nook between your head and shoulder as you cradled her gently.

“Scout, sweetheart, what’s wrong?” Your voice hushed in an effort to not wake her sleeping father.

“I don’t feel good…” she paused, hands grasping your nightgown tightly before carrying on, “and, Jem said to go back to bed but I can’t.”

At this you nodded, wiping stray tears that rolled down flushed cheeks, hand molding to her forehead in an effort to check her temperature. A small smile quirking her lips upward as she nuzzled against your palm, enjoying the attention.

“You do have a fever.” You whispered back, placing a kiss where your hand had been, “let’s get you back to bed, hm?”

She nodded, rubbing her eyes tiredly as you carried her back to her room. Little fingers playing mindlessly with the seam on the shoulder of your nightgown. The simplicity of it making you smile for a second before you laid her back down, pulling her covers back up.

“I’ll be right back ok?” You assured, gently combing your fingers through her hair only to have her shake her head from side to side, her hand grabbing at your arm.

“Don’t go.” She pleaded, fingers lacing with yours.

“Scout? Y/N?” Jem’s tired voice echoed quietly from across the room, before he appeared at the foot of the bed.

“Scout, I told you not to make a fuss and go to sleep.” He scolded, eyes narrowed at his younger sister.

“Shut up, Jem.”

“Quiet you two.” Your interjection grabbing both their attentions, “are you feeling ok?”

Your attention now turned to Jem as you shifted to face him. The look on his face as stoic as one his Father would fix someone with. The sight making you want to smile for a second, before looking over him. He too had slightly flushed cheeks, but being in the stage of life that he was, he’d pretend it was nothing.

“Come here.” You motioned, beckoning him toward you with your free hand. Resting your wrist on his forehead you decided he felt a bit warm too, a fact that made you bite down on your lip.

“You go get back into bed too, I’ll be there in a second.”

“But, Y/N -“

“Hush.” You smiled at him, before standing up to make your way to the bathroom. Wetting a washcloth and grabbing some aspirin, you made your way back to their shared room. Shaking your head humorously at the sight of Jem now sitting on the corner of Scout’s bed.

“Here, both of you take these.” Passing out the pills to both outstretched hands, only to be met with Jem telling you there was nothing to take them with.

“Put this on your sisters forehead and I’ll go get some water.” Passing him the washcloth, a grin turned the corner of your lips upward at the sound of them chattering, “what’s this for?”

“She’s trying to bring your fever down.”

“It’s cold!”

“It’s supposed to be! How else would you expect it to work?” Jem’s voice a bit more stern now as he explained.

“Whisper your Dad’s sleeping.” You chuckled, passing them both water to take the pills.

“I told Scout not to wake you or Atticus up but she doesn’t listen.” He stated, fixing a glare at his yawning sister.

“It’s ok.” You assured, placing Scout’s glass on her bedside table, “let’s get you back to bed too.”

Nodding tiredly, he moved across the room to his own bed, surprising you when he let you pull his blankets over him.

“If you guys need anything else…” you paused, tucking the blanket under his chin, “holler and I’ll come help you.”

He nodded tiredly, eyes almost shut as he whispered a nearly silent “thank you, Y/N.”

Your heart melting slightly at the sight of the two children. They were so precious to you, and you were so happy that they’d accepted you the way the did. It was hard to have a stepparent, but they’d seemed to have taken it in stride. The smile that covered your face, dissipating into a look of shock as you spotted Atticus leaned against the door frame.

Glasses on and hair mussed from sleeping as he surveyed the room. The moonlight highlighting one side of his face and lacing through his ebony colored locks resting heavily on the few gray hairs that had taken place on his temples. The sight soon making the shock disappear as soon as it had appeared.

Ushering him away from the door, you left it cracked slightly as the two of you tiptoed out into the hall.

“Are they ok?” He inquired, eyebrow raised quizzically as he peered back toward the door you’d left ajar.

“They’ve got fevers, they’ll have to miss school. It’s probably the flu, Maudie said it’s going around.” You explained, smiling as his fingers traced your jaw before his hand rested on your forehead.

“And you, how’re you feeling?” A teasing smile flirting on his lips, replacing his hand with a tender kiss.

“I’m feeling much better now.” Smiling up at him you returned the actions, “and how are you feeling, Mr. Finch?”

Your tone hushed, as you whispered it against his skin, eyes doe like as you pulled back to look in his onyx colored ones. Placing one last playful smooch on his cheek, which flushed under your lips.

“I’m feeling a bit warm.” Resting his arms around your waist he embraced you, your head taking up residence against his shoulder, “especially now.”

“Maybe we should get you back to bed too?” You suggested coyly, pulling back so that your gaze rested on him.

“I think that’s a marvelous idea.” A smile covering his lips with his hand resting on the small of your back as he guided you back to your room

[anordinarymuse]

Hiii 🥰 Could I maybe request a Kaz Brekker imagine where some guy is flirting with you and he gets all overprotective and jealous. He then realises that this is because he really likes you, so maybe a confession on his part which knowing Kaz probably won’t be a grand gesture but still sweet and fluffy in a Kaz-like way. But I’ll leave that up to you.

Thanks in advance!

the way i felt so warm reading this request asdjhflja

gambles.

Kaz Brekker x Fem!Reader

Summary : the request yup yup + kaz's pov

Warnings : i made this as canon as possible as somebody who hasn't yet read the books if you don't agree don't come for me please; swearing; unedited.

Word Count : 860

A/N : if the stars align i should get two or three more requests done today. also i had to do a breakout room discussion for tkam so i cry.

the masterlist.

request here.

I stand positioned against a column, spaced away from the crowds in the Crow Club. I survey what's in front of me. What I see is drunk men gambling away their dismal fortunes. My eyes linger to each table, looking at the somehow gleaming kruge even in the dimness of the space.

Out of the corner of my eye I see Y/N. She stands by an unknown man at one of the gambling tables. I keep my gaze on her, watching her every move.

The man advances, going from brushing his fingers up against her, to going as far as touching her waist. Every move he makes causes me to grip the head of my cane tighter and tighter.

Stealthily I swiftly make my way through the crowded room. I do my best to move against the walls, as far away from the packed center.

Now I stand only two tables away from Y/N. She matches my gaze but quickly ignore me, looking to the man with a flare in her eyes. For some reason that ties a knot in my stomach.

Even though I'm quite far, I can hear Y/N's voice, her laugh, even her heartbeat. I can feel it. I'm sure. My eyes flicker from Y/N to the man. He's tall, not as tall as me though, and decently fine looking. His brown moppy hair is strewn over his head. He also has cheeky half smirk, and I don't I've hated anything more.

My reaction moves faster than what I can register when the man leans in close to Y/N's ear, whispering something. His lips are so close to her neck I'm convinced they're touching. Y/N shows no changed expression, that is only until I push the man away, standing in front of her facing the guy.

Since I'm in front of her I have no idea how she reacts, but that's the least of my worries.

"Get out," I seethe impatiently, glaring the man down. I hold my cane tight in case, and I can feel the weight my gun on my hip.

"What the hell?" The man seems just as angry as I am, only for a different reason. He has no weapons, his jacket had flared open as I pushed him, weak.

"I said get out," I repeat just as threateningly as before.

He gives me a nasty snarl that I couldn't care less about before he pushes his way out of the club, cursing me out. Before any more attention can be drawn, I jab Y/N's shoulder with my the end of my can, motioning her to follow me to my office.

"Kaz! Why'd you do that I was about to win 150 kruge," Y/N grumbles as she obliges, walking into the depths of my office.

"What about how he was touching you?" I ask impatiently as Y/N locks the door behind her.

"It doesn't bother me so it shouldn't bother you. I'm not bothered and now you just cost me a new jacket," she mumbles that last bit under her breath. She stares at me glumly, her hands playing with handle of one of her guns.

"It does bother me," I snap, holding my cane tightly between my fingers. "It bothers me how he touched your hand, and how he almost kissed your neck, and how he laughed so easily with you."

"Well, it shouldn't," she retorts, crossing her arms.

"Well, it does," I reply harshly, before turning around so not to face her. I grip the ledge of desk, digging my palms into the wood. What was going on with me? Why was I feeling like this? The next words stammer out, and I can barely believe what I'd just said once I'd said it, "I just- I don't want to see you getting hurt."

"Did he really look like he could even scratch me?"

"It wasn't only him!" I whip around from facing my desk to facing Y/N, she flinches, which I then regret my almost shout. Her hair falls in front of her eyes and everything in me wants to push the strands behind her ears, "Everybody in that fucking club ogles you and looks you up and down and tries to advance on you and I hate it."

"Why?" Y/N tests, her glaze now stone cold, but her lip quivers just every so slightly. I do not know what that means.

"Because-" I swallow, blinking at Y/N. Forget it Kaz, you're just making yourself look foolish, "Because...nevermind."

"That's what I thought," she sighs, almost melancholy before turning around, placing her hand on the door handle.

My next inhale chokes before I speak, taking a step forward, the wood beneath my boot rattles, "Because I don't want you to leave." I take a shaky breath as I continue, "If something happens, or- or- or if you meet someone then- then you won't come back."

Y/N slowly turns around, when she does her expression has softened. When she speaks her voice is quiet but it's more impactful then it's ever been, "I'll always come back for you Kaz."

**********

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[darling-i-read-it]

Hey! I was wondering if you’d be open to writing something for an older (I dont mean in comparison to the readers age, just older that his age in TKAM) Jem Finch x reader? I 100% understand if you don’t want to, I just thought I’d ask before I request anything specific!

Hi! Probably not, I’m sorry. I just see him as a kid so heavily that I don’t know if I’d be able to separate that you know? Thank you so much for asking and being so kind though! ❤️

[ballad-of-birdy-lamb]

IHNMAIMS and TKAM fans PLEASE request more, I like writing for them