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amonett · 1 month

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WAIT I just remembered pleasee a part 2 to trust fall where they’ve been dating for a while and the child wants to call her mom? 🙏🏼 thank you ur great! Sorry for the many requests 😶

☼ trust fall pt2 (Finnick Odair) ☼

warnings; swearing, use of the word 'mommy' but in a parental way.

wc; 1.9k

notes; two year timeskip between first part and second.

part one.

“Alright, little man, remember what we said about steps?” You murmur to Lawson, holding out your hand for him to take.

He tilts his head all the way back to look up at you, a small smile on his face, dimples peeking out. He inherited quite a few of Finnick’s notable features, which will only grow more prominent as he gets older. Like the green eyes, for example, those are unmistakable.

It doesn’t matter how many times you say it or how badly Finnick denies it—Lawson is an exact replica of him.

“I have to hold your hand.” Lawson says, reaching up to take your palm.

“Because we have to be careful.” You squeeze his hand slightly, guiding him to the steps.

Together, the two of you take them one at a time at his pace, keeping a close eye on where he places his feet. Usually, you wouldn’t be this worried about him going up staircases. In fact, the last apartment you lived in, he used to fly up the stairs with no issue. But those stairs were indoor, and there was never a huge gap between each one.

All it’ll take is one misstep and he could fall between the concrete steps. Which has become your biggest fear since moving into this place with Finnick. As much as you tried to advocate for an apartment similar to your previous one, none were available to rent for several more weeks, and you didn’t have that time.

So, Finnick found a nice one, got himself moved in and became comfortable. When your lease ended, he brought you in, as promised, because he said that he’s been waiting forever for you two to live under the same roof. Which is funny, because it’s not like you didn’t sleep over at his house four days out of the week.

Anyway, Finnick thinks you’re being dramatic about the staircase. He says that Lawson is capable of going up these steps on his own, because he has in the past. Finnick keeps a close eye on his son, of course, but he tells Lawson to hold onto the railing. He wants him to have some independence with this.

You, on the other hand, like to be the railing.

“You got it?” You ask him, watching him hesitate on the last step.

He hums quietly, lifting his foot higher, placing it on the landing, and then rocking himself forward to step. You pull his arm up a little bit to take away the chance of him tripping with his other foot. Once both feet are on the landing, you let go of his hand, giving him a big smile.

“There we go. You’re getting better everyday.” You reach over to fix his curls.

“I know.” He beams, before walking to the apartment door, you follow behind him loosely, reaching to grab the keys from your bag.

He stops by the door, looking over his shoulder at you. You jingle the keys in his direction, earning a brief smile. He watches as you unlock the deadbolt, which is the only one you bother locking when there’s at least one of you in the house without Lawson.

Finnick’s inside somewhere. He mentioned something about taking a shower real quick before you left. He tried to tell you not to bother locking the door, because you live in a nice complex and there’s nothing to worry about. Besides, he thinks he can take on any intruders that come in by himself.

Needless to say, you didn’t listen to him. And you don’t think you have listened to that request once since you started living here.

You open the door, watching as Lawson wipes his shoes on the doormat before stepping inside. He stops a couple steps in, waiting for you to shut the door before he continues his routine.

“Okay, bud, backpack off first.” You hook your finger around the loop on top, prompting him to wiggle out of the straps. “And then put your shoes on the rack, please.”

He lowers himself to the hardwood floor, pulling off his shoes one at a time. You go around him, placing his bag on the countertop so that Finnick can go through it when he comes out. It doesn’t sound like the shower is running, so he must be done already.

“What are we thinking for a snack?” You ask, looking back at him. “Dragon jelly sandwich?”

Lawson’s eyes light up at the suggestion, looking at you. “Yes!” He places his shoes on the rack, getting back to his feet. You bought a pack of cookie cutters online of dragons, castles and swords. They’ve been put to good use with how often he eats peanut butter and jelly. He’s in love with the shapes.

“I hear my little man.” Finnick says, voice echoing down the hall.

“Thank you, mommy!” Lawson smiles, before pivoting and running down the hall toward Finnick.

Your hands freeze where they are on the fridge handles, staring at your reflection in the steel doors. At first, your veins run ice cold from hearing him call you that. Then, as the realization that Finnick could not have missed that begins to set in, your body is instantly set aflame.

Oh god, you think, because what else is there to? Lawson has never called you mom before, or any variation of it. This is the first time that this is coming from him unprompted. Fuck. Fuck. What if Finnick thinks that you’ve been advising Lawson behind his back? The way he said it sounded so natural, like he’s been doing it for a while.

You haven’t, obviously. In fact, you haven’t even considered the possibility of Lawson even thinking about it. And it’s not because you don’t feel motherly toward him, because you do. Finnick has even made jokes in the past about you being his stepmom, but you always brush him off by saying, ‘not yet’.

A part of it has to do with how terrified you are. When Finnick told you he had a son, it admittedly worried you from the start. You thought you’d give it a try anyway, especially since he said that he would mix you two until he was ready. The longer he went without introducing you, the more you grew afraid of the idea that you’d actually run, which is part of the reason why you put your foot down.

It has nothing to do with the fact that you don’t like kids. You do, and you love Finnick’s son so much. No, the real problem stems from the fact that you want to be a good influence for Lawson and you’re terrified of screwing it up. He doesn’t have a mom, she’s not in the picture, even two years later. She wasn’t interested in raising a baby.

You thought you’d have more time before this came around. Before Lawson started looking at you like a parental figure. Which means that Finnick will surely be taking you more seriously from now on. And the first thing that will undoubtedly happen is a conversation about this moment.

“Oh—” You begin, face twisting as you turn to look at them. You want to correct Lawson, but what else would he call you? Just (Y/n)?

“Hi buddy!” Finnick laughs, cutting you off. He pulls Lawson into his arms, holding him on his hip, looking at him like the world revolves around him. “How was school today?”

“It was good.” Lawson says, tilting his head down.

“Did you have fun?”

“Yes.” He nods. “I played with Dennis during recess.”

“You did? What’d you play?” Finnick asks, wandering back down the way he came, their voices getting quieter as they go.

You swallow thickly, slowly unclenching your teeth, loosening your hands from the fridge. You let out a soft sigh, closing your eyes. When you open them, you go back to what you were originally doing; making a dragon jelly sandwich.

It’s fairly mindless. You grab the jelly, then a place, then the peanut butter, then the bread. You find the dragon cookie cutter on top of the pile in the pantry, plucking it off and returning to the counter. There, you put the sandwich together, cut out the dragon, and place the scraps on a paper towel.

With how small the sandwich is, you go ahead and add some pretzels and grapes on the side for him. You put the ingredients back where they came from, with the jelly being last, allowing you to grab a juice pouch for the final touch. When you have everything, you walk it to the coffee table in the living room, placing the plate, juice pouch and a napkin down for Lawson when he’s done talking to Finnick.

The anxiety has mostly subsided by now, since you’ve been trying to convince yourself that maybe Finnick didn’t hear him.

“Snack time!” Lawson suddenly roars from his room, before he comes racing down the hall, straight to the living room. “Thank you!”

“You’re welcome.” You smile at him, looking up at Finnick when he appears in the hall. “Hey.”

“Hey.” Finnick smiles, hands reaching for your hips to pull you in. You cup his face, kissing him gently. “Are there any fliers in his backpack?”

“I haven’t checked.” You tell him, releasing his face.

Finnick heads for the backpack, you wander beside him, pulling a stool out at the counter to watch him. He works in silence for a couple of minutes, pulling out the folders and going through them, seemingly finding nothing new. Until his fingers freeze on a light blue paper. As you lean over his shoulder to look at it, he closes the folder.

“So, mommy, huh?” Finnick teases, looking at you.

You’re already shaking your head, not finding the humor in it. “Finnick, I’m so sorry. That’s the first time he’s said that. I don’t even know where it came from. I know—”

“It’s okay, babe.” Finnick places a hand on your knee, squeezing lightly. “Listen, I’ve made jokes about it in the past, but I was being halfway serious. You are like a mom to him.” He raises his eyebrows. “If you want him to call you that, I’m okay with it. If you don’t, I’ll have a conversation with him.”

You sit in silence for a couple of seconds, “I’m just not prepared.”

“Nothing will change.” Finnick shakes his head. “Everything stays the same, except for the name. He loves you, (Y/n). Possibly more than he loves me.”

“I can’t see that.” You laugh, “That’s not possible.”

“It is. And you love him just as much.”

“Of course I do.” You murmur.

“We’ll ease into it, how about that?” Finnick asks, squeezing your knee again. “So by the time this mother-son dance comes up, you’ll be ready.” He winks.

“What?” You ask, squinting at him.

Finnick flips the folder open, revealing the light blue paper. “This is probably what het got it from. He’s been asking more questions lately, like what are mommies like, and I think I accidentally described you.” He laughs lightly.

“Finnick.” You pout. “Are you sure?”

“With you, I’m sure about everything.”

this was part of my 3k celebration!!

#aWWW 💗💗#i can def picture a lil boy that looks exactly like finnick 🥹#finnick fic

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