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doetic · 5 months ago

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There's Doodles of Rams in the Margins - Enemies to lovers!Jschlatt x F!Reader x Hasan Piker (pt.1)

Masterlist // Playlist

Plot: During a lunch with her best friend and roommate F/n, the love hating cynic Y/n is introduced to her new boyfriend Ted Nivision and his friend Schlatt. Little does she know, her and Schlatt would butt heads at a party later that night, leaving her storming out soaking wet and enraged, but with the phone number of a charismatic and attractive curly haired man named Hasan. Word Count: 3086

A/n: Rewriting this fic so I'll want to work on it again, so don't be alarmed that it's different/being reposted!

The Women's Guide to Sex, Love, and the City - Y/n L/n

Jane Austen famously began her novel, Pride and Prejudice, by saying it's a universally acknowledged truth that “a man in possession of a good fortune must be in want of a wife”. Obviously Jane Austen didn't live in 21st century NYC. Nowadays, the very idea of a man wanting to settle down with pure intentions is far-fetched, and a smart woman is especially wary if a man bringing up marriage is wealthy. The topic of love has people in the city so divided that some believe it doesn't exist at all. After hearing both sides out, I can' help but wonder if love is truly just a scam perpetrated by men to get more blowjobs. Are straight women afflicted with a toxoplasmosis type parasite that makes them fall for men so irrationally hard? After running this column for two years and reading all the dating horror stories sent in, I'm starting to think all the women vowing celibacy are onto something. So, when my close friend and roommate, F/n, sat me down to discuss moving in with her new boytoy, I found myself having to bite my tongue.

─ ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──── ♡ ─── ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──

“His name is Theodore Nivison, but he goes by Ted,” F/n filled you in on the name of the man you were about to meet, a smile emerging on her face as his name left her lips. "Well, he's actually trying to make Theo a thing now,"

"Theo? really?" You replied, unimpressed. Without hesitation, you pulled out your phone, ready to do an impromptu background check on the man your friend planned to move in with. She had been very closed off about the details of their relationship, not wanting to say too much too early. However, after six months of dating, she seemed confident that their relationship would at least last over a year and was ready to preform the ultimate trust falls -- moving in and introducing him to her best friend, you .

F/n’s hand darted across the table and landed on top of yours, gently lowering your phone. “That’s not necessary, Y/n. Besides, you wouldn’t be able to find much anyways.”

You raised an eyebrow. “It’s not that rare of a name, F/n. It wouldn’t be hard unless he gave you a fake one.”

F/n let out a small laugh, “It’s not like that! He’s just a youtuber so he’s got that stuff hidden as much as he possibly can!”

You sent F/n an incredulous stare, putting your phone back onto the table. She smiled in return, used to your protectiveness, knowing what was coming next. “A man moving to New York from LA is bad enough F/n, but an influencer?” You began to chastise her. “He’s–”

“I know the drill Y/n, we don’t need to go through this every time.” She rolled her eyes lightheartedly.

Many found your skepticism towards love annoying, but F/n understood it. As your lifelong best friend, F/n knew very well how hopeless it was to try and get you to play into the scam that is dating in the city. Still, she always tried her very best to change your mind on the matter, even when others thought it to be a lost cause.

“I’m just saying, you know how men like that can be. Massive fucking egos that get in the way of everything,” You stabbed a fork into your salad a bit harder than intended. “Is he actually successful, or just a wannabe? You don’t want some guy with some soundcloud rapper mindset.”

“He’s got over a million subscribers I think?” She hummed, unlocking her phone and scrolling for a few moments before turning the screen to you, a dark haired man with glasses staring at you.

“I mean he’s cute I guess, if you’re into the geeky look,” You examined his face. “You could find someone hotter, but I’d probably hate him more if he was.”

F/n put away her phone and swatted the side of your arm playfully. “You haven’t even met him yet!” You paused as you lifted another forkful to your mouth.

“We both know how this is gonna go, F/n. He could be Jesus-fuckin’-Christ himself and he still wouldn’t be good enough for you.”

She let out a small laugh. “Well, please don’t be too obvious about your feelings. He should be here about–” She quickly checked the time on her lockscreen, but before she could finish her sentence the tall dark haired man you recognized as Ted speed-walked over right on cue, a brunette above 6ft with odd facial hair trailing after him. You couldn’t help but think he pulled off the mutton chop look. He was hot in a weird way. Fuckable, but if you were showing your friends a photo of him you would have to preface it by saying he doesn’t photograph well.

“Sorry, sorry! Am I late?” Ted leaned down to kiss F/n’s cheek, your friend grinning brightly at the small action.

“Right on time, Ted.” F/n’s grin was plastered on her face, but a quick glance toward you showed that her eyes begged you to play nice. “This is Y/n by the way.” She gestured to you expectantly. It took you a few moments to catch on, busy chewing on your salad and sneaking glances at the man who seemed to be a friend of Ted, but once you realized you were meant to do something, you quickly waved.

Ted sat in the seat beside F/n, leaving the man who accompanied him standing beside the table. “Sorry, Schlatt wanted to tag along, but I figured he wouldn’t be too much of a nuisance.” He apologized, mostly to F/n.

“Don’t lie, you’re the one who clings to me whenever we’re in the same city. He basically begged me to come along,” ‘Schlatt’ huffed.

“Oh Schlatt, you can sit beside Y/n!” F/n pointed to the chair beside you. You moved your purse to hang on the back of your chair, watching the tall man as he crossed over to sit beside you, giving him a polite small smile. He replied with a silent, examining look.

The man didn’t seem socially awkward, instead Schlatt just came off as reserved. From Ted’s comment about him being a nuisance, this behavior seemed odd to you. Perhaps he was just being good for Ted’s sake, or maybe getting a feel of the situation before getting comfortable.

“I’m Y/n,” You introduced. Not knowing what to do or say, you went to take another bite of your salad, only to be greeted by an empty bowl. You tried not to frown at the betrayal, opting to take a sip of your drink instead. Schlatt let out a hum, turning on his phone. Perhaps he was just tired?

“So, are you two looking forward to the party tonight?” Ted spoke up, breaking the silence that fell over the table. Although his body language made him appear comfortable, with his arm stretched around F/n, you noticed the awkwardness he felt through the apparent stiffness of his shoulders.

“Party?” You looked over to F/n who smiled sheepishly.

“Ted! I was gonna ease her into it!” F/n laughed. “Ted invited us to a party with him and Schlatt, it’s gonna be a good one apparently. Some group rented out a mansion on AirBnB. You totally have to come!”

“I’m busy that day,” You said quickly. Schlatt, who was busy on his phone, let out a small chuckle that he tried to bite back.

“It’s tonight,” Ted restated.

“Yeah and I have plans tonight,” You said quickly, searching your brain for an excuse. Your search was cut short by F/n.

“You were complaining about having nothing to do all day when we got here. C’mon Y/n, It’ll be fun!”

You went to sip your drink to stall while you thought of an escape plan, only to end up slurping air. The world seemed to be against you today. “Okay, okay, only for a bit. And I’m stealing back the Jimmy Choos I let you borrow.”

─ ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──── ♡ ─── ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──

Sometimes you wished you were better at saying no to F/n. Especially right now.

The party was lively. The bass throbbed throughout the rented mansion as if the building had a heartbeat and the large crowd of people gathered throughout the house swayed in time with it as if the party had cast a spell upon them and commanded it. Although you were committed to being huffy in the corner, you couldn’t help tapping a foot as well. Outside, in the absurdly large yard took place a makeshift game of baseball while others mingled on the deck.

Hate was a word you often used quite liberally despite being warned against it your whole childhood. Despite its secure place in your vocabulary, it was rare for you to truly mean the word as defined. However, in your current situation you felt yourself feeling the word so deeply it was as if you created it yourself. Your irritation was worsened by the knowledge that if the party was populated by any other group of people, you’d be having an amazing time. It wasn’t as if you were upset just because you were a buzzkill. No, usually you were the first one to suggest a night out and the last one to get into the uber home (after being pulled in by your friends). Your attitude wasn’t for a lack of loving parties. You just hated the people at this one specifically. You couldn’t stand influencers.

Your eyes scanned the crowd for F/n, noting the amount of cameras out with scrutiny. You couldn’t help but wonder how many of these people actually liked each other. How many of them were actually friends once the cameras shut off? You couldn’t stand the insincerity that seemed to permeate through every interaction they had, not to mention the egos that they broke their back carrying.

Unfortunately, the familiar face you were searching for was nowhere to be found, the two of you had been separated an hour ago when a group of people pulled her and Ted away to talk. Your phone battery was dangerously low, so you didn’t send more than one text her way. It was only a mansion, she couldn’t have gotten far. Surely you’d find each other if you stayed in one spot. The situation made you feel a bit like a child lost in a supermarket.

The sigh that escaped your lips was rendered inaudible by both the music and the laughter floating through the open patio door to your right, where out in the backyard a makeshift baseball game seemed to be occurring– with cameras out, of course. Unlike usual, your carefully crafted, much too expensive outfit wasn’t enough to lift your spirits. Opting for plan b, you raised your lips to take a sip of your drink.

It seemed as if brunette men over 6ft were scurrying into your life like rats, with the man who just came to stand beside you being no exception. You tried to subtly look at the attractive man under the guise of scanning the crowd for F/n once more as you sipped your drink, only to notice him staring at you. Like a cobra, the moment the rim of the cup left your lips, he struck quickly.

“I haven’t seen you around this type of thing before, what’s your name?” He questioned. You took the opportunity to get a better look at the man before looking away with faux disinterest. You were opposed to love, yes, but a good hookup was something you were always glad to indulge in.

“Isn’t introducing yourself first the chivalrous thing to do?” You commented, opting to act hard to get to give him the thrill of the chase.

“Oh! Excuse my manners, I’m a bit buzzed. I’m Hasan Piker. Can I know your name now, mystery girl?”

You let out a small laugh, turning to face him finally. “Y/n.”

“Y/n? I don’t think I’ve heard of you. I’d certainly remember if I did. What type of content do you make?”

You tried not to grimace at his assumption. “I’m sort of a sexual anthropologist.” You stretched your job description to the limit.

He raised an eyebrow. “Onlyfans?”

“A magazine advice columnist. It focuses on sex and relationships. It’s a bit of a mix of my personal life and reader questions.” You elaborated with a laugh. “Though I’m trying to break into real journalism.”

He laughed. “‘Sexual anthropologist’?” He ruminated on the words. “Well that’s a creative way of saying it, although it doesn’t seem to be entirely inaccurate.”

“I’m assuming you’re a streamer or something?”

“Quite a bit of political content.”

You hummed. “More respectable than most, depending on your alignment.”

Hasan let out a small chuckle. “Let's not talk business. I can’t chat long, content obligations y'know? But I noticed you from across the room and wanted to give you my number, maybe we could get more acquainted later.” He gave you a quick wink. The cheesy expression was charming when coming from his strikingly handsome freckled face.

You pulled out your phone, opening it up to the contacts app and handing it over. “I don’t hate the idea of that,” You smirked, internally beginning to enjoy being dragged along to this party now that you had the chance at spending a night of hot, meaningless sex with his muscular form.

He took the phone from your hand and typed in his number. “I have to go, but text me. I’ll be looking forward to it.” His warm hand brushed against your exposed back, rubbing a small circle into your flesh with his thumb before slinking into the crowd from where he came.

You tried to hide the smirk that threatened to creep onto your lips, trying to play it cool in case anyone was watching. In an attempt to hide your smirk of satisfaction you raised your drink to your lips, only to find yourself wet and on the floor just a millisecond later, pain and the flashes and clicks of cameras flooding your senses.

The large form crashing into your body was far too sudden for you to even make a sound or register what had happened for a few moments. Slowly your brain began to piece things together. The open patio door in front of you, the baseball game going on outside that had halted with its players staring your way in shock, the impossibly heavy weight that kept you pinned to the hardwood floor. Some fucker had tackled you in an attempt to catch a ball. You were too stunned to speak, and the delayed full-body pain that flowed into your body only added to your silence.

“Watch where you’re standing, toots.” The voice, mixed with the telltale slur of a drunk man, sounded slightly familiar. Your disoriented brain took a bit to focus, but once it did you saw the face of Ted’s friend Schlatt hovering above you illuminated by harsh camera flashes.

Your eyes stung as they teared up, embarrassment, pain, and anger flooding your senses all at once.

“Watch where I’m standing? You’re the one who fucking ran into me!” You shouted back in anger, not caring about the cameras and bystanders surrounding you. “Get off of me!”

The man huffed as he moved his large form to his feet, a motion your sore body copied once he released you from your prison beneath him. “If you paid more attention to your surroundings you’d’ve seen me coming!”

“It’s a dark room!”

“Try drinking less, you’ll be more alert,” He retorted with a pissed off chuckle.

“I’m not the one who reeks of whiskey!” You angrily jabbed a finger into his chest. “I’m not taking this from some asshole with an over-inflated ego,” You glared before turning on your heel and storming away, focusing most of your energy on not stumbling in pain with such a variety of pitying and angry eyes on your form. Behind you you could hear Schlatt yell out in triumph about having caught the ball, his announcement eliciting loud cheers.

“Y/n! What’s wrong?” You heard F/n’s worried voice as you neared the party's exit. Ted trailed behind her, looking confused at the state you were in. You must have looked like a wreck. Even without a mirror you could tell your hair was messed up and your backless white dress was definitely stained from your spilled drink.

“That fucking guy, Schlatt,” You replied, sending a glare to Ted. ��Crashed into me trying to catch a ball and blamed it on me.”

F/n’s face turned angry at your words, looking expectantly at Ted and presumably opening her mouth to tell him to do something about his friend.

“I’ll talk to him, he hasn’t been himself recently,” Ted spoke quickly, giving you an apologetic look.

“Don’t. I don’t want some coerced apology. He’s a dick, it’s whatever. I doubt I’ll even see him much after tonight.” You weren’t sure why F/n and Ted had such weird looks on their faces as you said that, but you felt too scrambled to question it. “I’m just worried about pictures and videos of it ending up everywhere.”

“I’ll see what I can do,” Ted comforted.

“Let's get you home first, I doubt you want to be here any longer,” F/n spoke, placing a hand on your shoulder and guiding you out the front door.

The outside air was cool upon your skin as your drink dried into sticky patches on your skin. The fall breeze felt piercing on the wet spots of your dress that clung tightly to you. You let out a small sigh, the sound of the party fading into the background as the three of you walked to Ted’s car. He had agreed to be the designated driver for the night, something you appreciated. You would have felt awful making some poor Uber driver’s car reek of booze.

You were so exhausted you didn’t pay much attention to F/n helping you into the car, your body feeling heavy as you rested your head against the back seat window. Thankfully, the two in the front seat respected your reluctance to talk much. You found yourself ruminating on your latest interaction with Schlatt. It had felt so fast that there wasn’t much for you to ruminate about, but of one thing you were certain: you deplored Schlatt and looked forward to never seeing him again.

#theres doodles of rams #jschlatt x reader #schlatt x reader #hasan piker x reader #hasanabi x reader

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