#modern omens | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

deathblacksmoke · 2 months

Text

this modern love | part 1

Pairing: Nick Folio x OFC (Natalia/Nat)

Summary: Nat heard all the stories about Nick long before she ever knew him. Though she tries her best to steer clear, things complicate themselves when she finds herself beginning to fall for him.

Word Count: 1.8K

CW: college au, friends with benefits, friends to lovers, annoying college gossip, p in v sex, mention of f receiving oral sex (content warnings will be updated by chapter)

Author's Note: @caitcoreeeee and an anon requested smutty folio friends to lovers and i went a little overboard. thank you to my dearest sweet baby angels @darksigns-exe and @circle-with-me for their endless support (read: hand-holding) as i navigate through this.

dividers by @saradika-graphics 🩵

title from “this modern love” by bloc party.

She’s heard it all: the whispered half-truths in locker rooms and study groups. They’re all so shameless, exchanging their stories like they’re not even talking about a human being. They make him sound like a blast, a character — it’s almost enough to pique her curiosity about what a night with Nick Folio is really like.

It’s an accident when she stumbles upon him, a chance meeting when she’s on shift driving the campus shuttle. It’s the end of her shift but still early in the night, and he’s the only one needing to be picked up from the bar at 8:30, seemingly still sober. He insists on sitting up front, stealing the aux for the 8 minute drive, and swiping her phone to put in his number. She finds herself dumbfounded when he skips up the steps of his dingy off-campus house moments later, his laugh still echoing in her head.

When she finds herself lying in bed, unable to sleep, she can’t say what it is that makes her dial his number. She’s more surprised than she should be when he arrives not 30 minutes later, snacks and drinks piled high in both arms.

It’s easy with him — easier than she’s ever found it with anyone else. They overlap on so many things, like marching band, though he’s still on the drumline and she gave it up after her junior year of high school. Their love of sports, their taste in music, their favorite silly tv shows. They sit chatting for 3 hours before she notices time passing. It’s so easy with him.

She can’t help herself when he pleads so sweetly to get between her thighs. It’s barely even a question when she tells him of course; his mouth feels so nice on hers that she wants to feel it absolutely everywhere. She decides early on that she’ll let him inside of her another time, probably the moment he asks. Until then, she finishes on his tongue with a garbled groan of his name.

They’re curled up in bed, sleeping on and off, when he gets a frantic call from his roommate: drunk as fuck and lost his keys and no one else is answering their phones. He wavers for a long moment, his gaze shifting to her and back away, and ultimately leaves her with a lingering kiss and a promise to text. Like a gentleman, he does, the moment he arrives back home.

It’s only when she opens Instagram the morning after that she makes the connection — nick_folio has requested to follow you, and he has the same sweet face as the boy who she fell for the night before. She thinks back to all the filthy, overshared, overheard stories she’s heard in the locker room after rugby practice, connects them to the cute and sweet boy from her van and her bed, and she feels her heart sink.

She decides to cut her losses — his follow request goes unaccepted, his good morning text unanswered.

“Nat!”

She’d successfully avoided him for 3 days. She’s only steps away from where she’s going, and could easily pretend not to hear him, take a turn, and lose him. Honestly, there’s a bubbling excitement in her tummy the moment she hears his voice. Even if she wanted to, she wouldn’t be able to keep herself from stopping in her tracks and turning to greet him with a smile.

His jog slowed as he sees that she’s staying put. He stops in front of her, hangs on his sides and winded, and she’s never felt more endeared towards someone in her life. She’s completely fucked.

“You’ve been avoiding me,” he says with a laugh. She can’t decide whether an apology is the correct course of action. Luckily, he doesn’t give her the opportunity to respond. “Come get lunch with me?”

She considers it for a long moment — having lunch with him is the exact opposite of her plan, and she’s missed enough hours of her lecture that another absence will set her further behind than she likes. Just as she’s about to make an excuse, her tummy grumbles, an effect of her skipped breakfast. He smirks. He knows he has her.

“Come on, we can use my dining dollars,” he proposes. It’s a silly offer, considering she has plenty of her own, but she finds herself giving him a shy little grin and accepting his hand anyway.

Completely. Fucked.

She spends the next few weeks wary, but ultimately unable to keep herself away from him. She meets him in the library to study when he asks, they have a standing Tuesday lunch date, countless movie nights, and chats into the early hours of the morning. More often than not, he takes the passenger seat when she’s working a shuttle shift alone.

He’s so smooth with his answers when any of his friends pile into the van and spot him next to her. Every now and again, his words turn her stomach.

“Spending a lot of time with Natalia, aren’t ya, Foli?” they ask, an edge of taunting in her tone that makes her feel sick, less than.

“Of course I am. Nat’s the best,” he responds earnestly and without pause. There’s no room for it to be laughed off or interpreted as sarcasm or teasing. He isn’t ashamed at all, although their jabs have clearly been made with that intent. She can feel her cheeks burning with unease.

The way he looks at her after always soothes her, equips her with a bravery she doesn’t normally possess — the way that even in front of his friends, he’s proud to be seen enjoying her company. He grazes a finger over her forearm and it calms down her kicked up nerves, disappears her uneasy feelings. She’s proud to be seen enjoying his company, too.

It’s almost an accident the first time they sleep together. To his credit, he keeps his hands to himself, never pushing anything. It’s clear he’s waiting for her to make the first move, but she never doubts that he’s still interested.

She can see it in the way he looks at her, the way he seems to go out of his way to make her comfortable. They’re sitting on his bed watching a movie when she feels a chill — his housemates like to keep the AC lower than she likes. It’s almost instinctual when she tucks herself into his side, her head resting on his shoulder. He doesn’t pause before wrapping an arm around her and pulling her closer.

“Do you want me to get you an extra blanket?” he asks, rubbing a hand over her arm and shoulder to warm her up. She feels warm from the inside out, in a way a blanket could never give her. It’s him.

“Is this okay instead?” she responds — in place of a reply, she feels his shoulder move as he nods, pulling her closer again.

She catches the faintest glimpse of him when the movie switches scenes, the screen going black for a moment. He doesn’t seem to be paying attention.

She chances a look at him, lifting her head from his shoulder and meeting his pretty brown eyes, the faintest smile. He doesn’t look away embarrassed, or seem to care that he’s been caught. His smile only grows, and she can’t help it. With a gentle hand on his jaw, she brings his face down to hers, pressing their lips together.

He breathes a sigh of relief into her mouth, turning his body to face her and curving a gentle hand around her waist. She didn’t realize how much she wanted this the whole time, to be close to him like this.

It’s dizzying, the way everything goes at her pace. She isn’t used to it, knowing that she can have everything drawn to a stop at any moment, because nothing is happening without her explicit permission.

There isn’t a second thought in her mind when she lays herself back on the bed, pulling him with her. A buzzing erupts beneath her skin when he wraps her leg around his waist — he’s impossibly close.

“I can’t be in a relationship right now,” she pulls away to say, an impulse she almost immediately regrets, but can’t bring herself to retract. There’s a flash of disappointment over his face, only there for a moment before it disappears.

“This can be whatever you want it to be, Natty,” he says, an earnestness in his gaze and in his tone that twists her stomachs and wracks her with guilt. He doesn’t deserve to be treated this way, but she can’t bring herself to push away what she knows, what she’s heard. She can’t keep away from him, either.

She settles, for both hurting him and having him.

“I want you,” she confesses, her hands moving to his belt, gently tugging. She looks up at him, a chance for him to put a stop to everything, put the distance back between them and end it. “Please, Nicky?”

He only pauses for another moment before leaning back down to capture her lips again, unbuckling his belt and sliding out of his jeans and boxers with an ease that seems practiced. She doesn’t let herself focus on it, only removing her sweats and panties, discarding them somewhere before drawing him back in.

She reaches blindly behind her, fishing around in his nightstand and hoping he’s the responsible type, relieved to feel the foil packet beneath her fingers.

Everything moves so quickly, she barely has time to breathe. Her focus is shot by the finality of crossing this line with him, the realization that they fit together like puzzle pieces when he’s sheathed inside of her.

She hadn’t noticed her tears falling, not until the gentle rock of his hips slows to a stop, his thumb brushing the wetness away from her cheeks.

“You okay, Natty?” he asks, concern lacing his normally cheerful tone. She finds herself nodding, though the tears don’t stop to match her assurance. “Promise? Do you want me to stop?”

She shakes her head immediately, reassuring him with a please don’t stop. She tries to push away her fears, let herself be present in the moment, lose herself to the feeling of him and his scent flooding her senses.

Even as he draws her orgasm from her effortlessly, her anxiety still remains the overtone of everything.

“Are you going to hate me now?” she asks him after, when they’re lying together. She feels rigid, unable to relax into his hold. His hands are unsure, shaky where they settled on her warmed skin.

“I could never hate you, Natty,” Nick responds, a gentle kiss placed to her temple. “Okay? Not ever.”

tag list: @circle-with-me @darksigns-exe @ladyveronikawrites @baddestomens @sitkowski

@somebodyels3 @spicywhenspeaking @cookiesupplier @collapsedglasshouses @agravemisstake

@lma1986 @abiomens @cncohshit @xserenax-13 @poisongirl616

@dominuslunae @iknownothingpeople

#nick folio fic #nick folio rpf #nick folio fanfiction #bad omens fic #bad omens rpf #bad omens fanfiction #deathblacksmoke works #fic: this modern love

65 notes · View notes