Patrick Zweig Fluff - Blog Posts

you’re here, that’s the thing

and i know you said that we’re not a thing but you’re here, that’s the thing - you're here that's the thing, beabadoobee

pairing: teen!patrick zweig x childhood bestfriend!reader

in which: you and patrick have spent summers tangled up with each other. you're in love, he's in denial. and yet— he's here, that's the thing.

warnings: patrick being an idiot

note: patrick and reader are 18-ish. this based off my favorite beabadoobee song, which is very patrick coded (in my opinion). this is my first fic, i hope you like it!!

“so we’re both here, aren’t we?”

you turn around, a stupid grin instantly blossoming on your face at the sight of patrick zweig standing a few steps above you on the staircase.

"you avoiding me or something? you haven't talked to me since you got here." patrick laughs gently.

"no, of course not." you tilt your head slightly, biting back everything you want to say and opting for a smile. you pat the space next to you and he sits down, all in comfortable silence.

whether you’re 10 or 18, you always end up here. with him. an escape from his parents’ suffocating parties and small talk.

patrick sniffs as he lights a cigarette. you scrunch up your nose, “we’re literally indoors, pat.”

patrick scoffs as pillows of smoke escape his mouth. “it’s my house. the window’s open, they won’t care.”

“summer house,” you correct and his eyes fly skyward.

“yeah, yeah. summer house. on the fuckin’, fuckin’— i forget- which island are we on?” patrick snaps his fingers in thought

“santa catalina,” you respond simply, picking at your nails because you don’t think you can look him in the eyes. your insides are already bubbling and he hasn’t even been here two minutes.

“santa fucking whatever-“ patrick snorts, bringing his beer bottle up to his lips and passing it over to you. he doesn’t even ask if you want it or not— he knows you well enough to know that you’ll take a sip.

you wrap your lips around the bottle, and you can taste him. or you think you can. or maybe you just connect everything that reminds you of him to him.

the taste of beer, cigarettes, the subtle hint of his cologne— earthy, citrusy, and unmistakably him

you shut your eyes and swallow down the cold liquid, you try not to gag because you know patrick will make fun of you for it.

“i’ve missed you, y’know?”

you almost spit out your drink, your cheeks burn up and all of a sudden you’re 13 again. “really?”

patrick rolls his eyes again. “yeah, idiot. ‘course i missed you, you’re the only friend i have.”

“you have art?”

“that’s—“ patrick sniffs, “that’s different, you’re like a- a girl.”

“wow, i feel so special,” you can’t help but laugh. “where’s art anyways?”

“he’s staying with his grandmother for the summer this year,” patrick shrugs, taking another long drag of his cigarette. he turns to smirk at you- “why, do you miss him? did you want to see him?”

but you know him enough to know that under all that bravado is stupid, boyish jealousy.

“i’ve missed you too.” you let yourself admit.

he immediately smiles at that. “yeah, you did. you probably dreamed of me every night and fuckin’ cried to thought of me.” he cackles like a maniac, shoving you gently. now it’s your turn to roll your eyes.

you reach for the beer bottle and you brush his hands—warm and calloused— and the touch lingers a bit too long. you pull your hand away as you take another sip, your fingers twitch. it’d be so easy to grab his hand right now. you swallow the drink down with your fantasies as you clear your throat.

“so how’s—“ you begin to say

“fuck, this is so stupid,” he groans. he reaches for your chin and tilts your head.

your eyes meet.

his are a shade of blue and green, like when the sun shines on the ocean. that sort of pretty. comforting. you’d like to swim in them. those eyes flicker to your lips. his thumb brushes over your chin, your insides flutter. and he almost— almost leans in.

“you’re being weird, is this because i kissed you last year?”

yes. yes. it is patrick. you want to scream.

“no, why would— i’m not being weird-“

“you are- you are being so fuckin’ weird-“

“patrick- i’m fine,” you scoff.

“it’s wasn’t supposed to be serious if that’s what you’re so concerned about— we’re not a thing. it was like a drunk thing.”

oh.

a drunk thing. not a thing that happened after years of tension. just a drunk thing. that's all it was to him. you swallow that thought like you could wash it down with the lingering taste of beer in your mouth as your heart throbs in your chest.

but yeah, you and patrick were never a thing. it’s something patrick had made clear several times. but each time was a new stab in the chest.

the kiss was a drunken mistake. it was the last day of summer break, you, art, and patrick around six and a half beers in with some weed in the mix, sitting on the sands of the beach. all drunk out of their minds.

you were talking about something stupid while art laughed. patrick stared at the waves crashing into the rocks before he cupped your cheeks and kissed you.

it was soft. warm. right.

and even though you were both blackout drunk, you remember it so clearly. and so does he— he wouldn't have brought it up otherwise.

art had laughed at the action. "what, is this, like, a thing? you guys a thing now?"

patrick had pulled away at that point, his hand still on your waist, grip tightening with his jaw. "fuck, no. it's not like that."

your family left the zweig’s summer home the next morning.

and you couldn’t bear asking him about it over the phone in fear of ruining seven years of friendship.

so for the next 350 something days, you convinced yourself it was just some summer fling that couldn’t even be considered “a fling.”

you managed to convince yourself that you don’t care. but that doesn’t stop the burning, tingly sensation at your waterline and a tear or two from rolling down your cheek.

his entire face drops, almost comically. “why are you crying? no- don’t cry- what the fuck-“ he panics. he doesn’t know where to put his hands. they cup your cheeks then fall from your cheeks. hold your shoulders, then your hands. it’s almost like patrick’s brain crashed and he was malfunctioning. it would almost be funny if it didn't hurt so much, just because of that stupid look on his face. you almost smile. "hey, no- stop that." he starts to laugh, that stupid laugh you fell in love with, and when notices your glare, he stops.

he chooses to stare at you in silence, reaching over to wipe some of your tears. you push his hands away, it's petty. he sighs. "i dunno what i did wrong, i- i thought you wanted it to be a drunk thing. you didn't— you talk about it after we did it. I mean— girls usually talk about this kind of shit, right? to-"

you look at him through your tears, in a 'are you fucking stupid?' kind of way and he shuts up. through your tears you manage to finally say, "imfuckinginlovewithyou, youstupidfuckingidiot"

patrick's eyebrows furrow in confusion, but not in— 'wow this girl loves me' confusion. no— more in a 'what the fuck did you just say, because i don't understand the words that come out of your mouth when you cry' kind of way. you breathe deeply, calming your shaky vocal chords, and wipe your tears. "i love you, you idiot."

patrick's dumbfounded. he opens his mouth to say something. closes it. opens it again— then closes it for good. he's like a fish. a stupidly handsome fish. then he finally manages an "oh." "oh?" you repeat, then the frustration spills out. "the fuck you mean 'oh'? i just said something that could change the trajectory of our friendship—" without warning, he kisses you. grabbing onto the back of your neck and shutting you up.

your hand drops and you grab onto his shirt. your mouth moves with his, and it's so... right. he tastes like the smoke of his cigarette, he tastes like the beer— he tastes like patrick.

when you pull apart and just stare at him, he laughs. fucking laughs. like an idiot. you roll your eyes. "i like you too." he smirks slightly, pushing a hand through his curls and sighing.

"i just told you i love you, and you're saying you like me?" you tease with a smile. "wow, patrick. i'm hurt." he cups your cheeks again, inching closer. "please don't start crying again."

he brushes his thumb over your bottom lip.

"i love you too." — tags: @hyuneskkami for the divider

Artitck x fem reader comfort? reader on her period and usually they're so bad she gets sick and out of commission for the whole week. she just cries into patricks chest while Art plays nurse :(

love me more (artrick x fem! reader)

you were being punished for something. you had to be. you woke up this morning with cramps that made you curl up in pain, only allowing you to hobble to the bathroom before getting back in bed. you send a hasty email to your professors before shutting your computer and getting cozy in bed again, the fetal position you're currently in is the only way to feel some small relief. you're passed out before you can alert your boyfriends about staying home, a mistake that will soon start knocking at your door.. literally.

*. : ｡✿ * ﾟ * .: ｡ ✿ * ﾟ * . : ｡ ✿ **. : ｡✿ * ﾟ

if you were awake, you would currently hear muffled voices outside your door, ones that are easily recognizable to anyone on the same floor of your dorm since they are almost always cracking jokes and laughing loudly. these voices belong to your boyfriends, art and patrick, who, at the moment, are arguing about who should've brought the extra key to your dorm. "dude she gave the key to you, why don't you have it?" the hushed voice of patrick zweig echoes through the hallway, looking pointedly at art. "i gave it to you remember? i had that match and you wanted to come over here.." art argues back, pointing at patrick. patrick rolls his eyes, rattling the doorknob. "fuck.. what if she's hurt in there or something?? she's not answering my texts" patrick all but bangs on the door, as art sees if you've texted either of them.

waking up with a groan, the loud bangs on your door make you sit up, heart racing. you immediately reach for your phone, wanting to call art or patrick but you're met with missed calls and unanswered frantic messages. you hop out of bed, despite feeling weak from the current cramps wracking your body. you unlock the door, pulling it open and being met with art and patrick, looking at you like they've seen a ghost. "what the fuck!" patrick sighs out, obviously relived to see you. art immediately rushes forward, hugging you tightly. "you scared the shit out of us you know that?" he pulls away, hands on your shoulders, "you don't show up to any of your classes or our practice and then you don't answer any of our texts or calls?" art is clearly happy to see you, but the adrenaline of being concerned about you hasn't worn off. "you scared the shit out of us babe" patrick says, shaking his head. "im really really sorry it's just-" you try to continue your sentence but you're interrupted by a particularly bad cramp, causing you to hunch over and groan in pain. both patrick and art move toward you, making sure you don't fall. "holy shit babe are you okay?" patrick is completely overtaken by concern for you, finding it hard to see you in pain.

"im sorry.. ive just been sick in bed all day you guys.." you explain, letting them guide you back into your room. you sit back in bed, art taking a seat in your desk chair, while patrick makes himself at home in your bed. "ive been sleeping all day.. it's like the only thing that makes me feel better.." you describe the current situation, curling into a ball holding your lower stomach. art and patrick exchange a sympathetic look, with art reaching out to hold your hand. "you've been stuck in here all day?" art frowns at you, his extreme sense of empathy kicking into high gear. you lean into the soft pressure of patrick sitting behind you as you nod. "yeah.. usually i can make it through the week but none of my pain meds are working" patrick nods and brushes a hand through your hair. art, forever the worrier, sits on the chair next to your bed, frantically looking up "how to stop period cramps" and "are period cramps dangerous" you see arts phone screen, smiling at his obvious want for you to be okay.

"art it's okay.. it'll pass.. its bad but it's normal" you reassure him, smiling through the pain. patrick laughs, smoothing his hand through your hair. "cmon art don't be stupid, don't you know anything about women?" he jokes, obviously trying to distract you from the waves of pain. "shut up patrick you hardly even knew what a period was until college!" art fights back, face slightly pink with embarrassment. you let the two of them battle it out, feeling yourself sinking further into the mattress with the feeling of arts hand in yours and patricks fingers weaving through your hair. they don't even notice you've passed out again until patrick needs you to help him fact-check art and you don't respond. their petty argument is forgotten as they get you more comfortable in bed, turning off your light and pulling soft blankets over you. you toss and turn in your sleep, unable to feel actually relaxed enough to fall into a true sleep.

a particularly bad cramp causes your eyes to snap open, a groan of pain escaping your lips as you open your eyes, seeing art and patrick sitting on your floor together. they both rush towards you when they see you're awake again, your pain stricken groan pulling on both of their heartstrings. patrick moves to lay beside on on the bed, guiding your head to lay against his warm chest. "where does it hurt sweetheart?" art asks, sliding himself between your legs to lay his head on your stomach. weirdly, the pressure of his head relieves the pain for a moment, allowing you to answer. "just all of my lower stomach.. the cramps just won't stop.." you feel tears well on your eyes, trying to blink them away to no avail. patrick takes quick notice of this, brushing his thumb under your eyes to wipe your tears. art almost looks like a kicked puppy, gazing up at you with his baby blue eyes, unable to help. art lets patrick continue to comfort you while he pulls out his phone again, researching ways to help relieve your cramps.

"okay.. pat here it says that we should get something warm for her.. that'll like relax her muscles or something" art jumps up and grabs his bag, rooting around in it frantically. finally, he pulls out a little blanket looking thing with a cord coming out of it. "it's a heating pad" he explains, "my coah gave it to me for my muscle spasms but i think it could really help.." you nod and he plugs it in, helping you press it against your lower stomach and hold it there. yet again, art rests his head on your stomach like a puppy, while patrick continues to cradle your head against his chest. the relief from the heating pad starts quickly, and the warmth send you to sleep once again, along with patrick and art.

for the rest of your absolutely miserable week, art and patrick stay by your side, giving you massages and chocolate and everything you could ask for.. anything to make you feel better again. art and patrick could be annoying at times.. but you're positive that you've never felt so loved <3

literally call me cringe i don't care but the only way i can fall asleep rn is imagining cuddling with patrick and art.. cuddling up to patricks chest while art falls asleep with his head tucking in your neck.. yeah.. im cringe but i am free..

please please please send asks to my inbox please 😭😭 y'all im so ready to write but i need some guidance!! it can literally be about anything just please slide into my inbox <33

am i a loser because of the fact that AS SOON AS my head hits the pillow at night im immediately wishing that patrick and art were snuggled up next to me.. :( i know that patrick will fall asleep anywhere and everywhere in less than a minute but art needs to be in a specific position with exactly 2 blankets on top of him completely in the dark with a fan on low for him to fall asleep.. just laying on arts chest while patrick spoons you from behind.. they're so warm and cozy and yes the thought of this sends me to sleep if im having trouble <3

Could u write some Patrick angst where you guys are in a solid relationship but Patrick tries to breakup w reader bc he’s never been in a genuine relationship so his own insecurities take over? Happy ending tho if possible🥹

yes i can <333 sorry this is long and it kind of takes a while to get to the point i hope you like it anyway 😭

- as long as you've known patrick he's been known as a "playboy", previous room mates attesting to the fact that a new girl was leaving his room every night. patrick didn't know what he was looking for, there were no common links between his flings and he didn't care, he would buy them a drink and nod at their stories before he invited them back to his room, sending them on their way once he got what he wanted.

- you met patrick through a mutual friend in college, you didn't see too much of him because he was always late to class or never even showed up. of course, his grades started to slip and his parents noticed, immediately looking for a tutor for him and settling on you, since you were "friends". as it turns out it's pretty hard to contact someone who doesn't even have contact names for people, just " brunette from bar" and "chick from biology". you finally got a hold of him and told him the arrangement, he didn't like it (to be expected) but his parents threatened to not support his dreams of becoming a tennis star if he didn't get good grades, so he settled.

- outside of his frequent escapades, patrick was a nice person, he actually did listen and ask questions the whole time you were explaining problems to him. once he actually get to know you a little bit (simple things like how you always complain about being thirsty but never bring a drink, or only use pens and never pencils, not caring if it's more trouble when you make a mistake), he respects you and your time more and doesn't skip lessons as much and actually does his homework.

- once you become friends on a bit of a deeper level, not just tutor and student, he talks to you about tennis, eventually inviting you to come watch him play. usually he's playing doubles with art, but you personally prefer the days when he's playing solo, you really get to focus on his talent and passion for the game that way. and patrick comes to look forward to seeing you in the stands at his games, art makes fun of him and pushes his shoulder whenever patrick gets distracted. he notices a weird feeling in his stomach when he does find a moment to look at you, smiling at how you're biting your nails and leaning forward on your seat.

- that night, patrick invites you to come to his victory party, he reasons that you helped him archive this victory by bringing peace to his academic life so of course you should come. you spend the night sipping on a drink in the corner of the room, given you only knew patrick and art, who were surrounded by admiring friends and family. just when you were picking up your coat and keys to leave, patrick was able to escape his fans and come over to you, his brows furrowing as he sees you're about to leave. "what do you think you're doing?" he asks, "you haven't even said hi tonight", if you were looking closer it would almost seem like he's pouting. you explains that you're tired, you don't really know anyone and honestly you'd rather just be in bed. "well lemme walk you to your car then yeah?", he helps you to put your coat on, ushering you out the door into the quiet street, ignoring your argument that it's really not necessary, fighting back with "a pretty girl like you shouldn't be walking alone late at night" and that shuts you up as you walk next to patrick, neither of you saying anything. it's a comfortable silence though, and you think back on your time with patrick and realize you've never really felt uncomfortable with him.

- once you get to your car safely you lean against your car to continue talking to him, thanking him thoroughly for walking you to your car, even though he had to leave his own party. maybe it was the glasses of champagne you had at the party or the way his skin glowed in the moonlight but you leaned in and kissed his cheek as an act of thanks. as you opened your car door to leave patrick did something he's never done to a girl, he made the first move, cupping your face in his hands and kissing you. he didn't know what it meant for your relationship but he didn't care in the moment, all he knew was how soft your lips felt against his. when he pulled away it was clear you were both quite awkward, so he gets you into your car and told you he'd text you the next day. and another first, he actually did text you the next day.

- from then on your relationship blossomed, for how experienced patrick was, he wasn't experienced in the more romantic aspects of a relationship, but just like you taught him chemical symbols and equations, you taught him how to have an actual healthy relationship. but still, patrick feels like he should know all these things already, you shouldn't have to ask for flowers or ask to go on a romantic date, you should be with someone who knows how to treat you right. about 4 months into your relationship he couldn't stop himself from thinking this way, knocking on your door right after practice and praying you'd answer. when you do, he makes you sit down on your bed and explains the whole ordeal, ending it with "you deserve someone better than me, that can treat you better.. we have to break up". you're immediately confused, the reason that he wants to break up is so stupid you feel like you need to slap him. you don't, of course but you certainly give him a firm talking to, reminding him of all the things you love about him and he feels like crying, his head falling into your lap as he holds your hand. he'd never imagined being in a relationship like this, and he promises to make you feel as lucky as you make him feel everyday <33