#ndv45

[scuderiamh]

home || n. de vries x reader

pairing: nyck de vries x reader request: yes / no summary: after a trip away with friends, your house never felt more like a home. word count: 950 warnings: child has a decided name.

sitting in by your flight's gate and surrounded by tired, hustling people rushing to and fro, you only had one thing on your mind.

two things, actually. but in the same category. your fiancé and your daughter. 

the joy the two of them brought you was unreal, but that also meant the amount that you missed them while they weren't present was just as unbelievable. you enjoyed your trip away, certainly. as much as you loved them the break was nothing if not much needed, and the time weekend spent away on some white sanded beach with a few of your closest friends could not have been any more enjoyable. but now after flight one of two home you were more than ready to fall into nyck's arms and hold little tess for hours and hours. 

your flight was boarding in just under fifteen minutes. luckily, it was a short one. so, you should be home within four hours. and considering the time now, you didn't expect much communication until you see them face-to-face... that is until your phone lit up with a facetime call from the contact titled “nyckie 💙” 

you wasted no time in connecting your headphones and accepting the call, only to be greeted with a close-up on your 10-month-old's face -- her very awake face. before you could say anything, the camera tilted to the side to show part of nyck's face. 

“shouldn't you guys be asleep?” you asked, attempting to be stern. but you couldn't hide the smile at the sight of them. the camera had since returned back to tess, but with your question nyck set up the camera against something, showing that they were both on your bed, laying down and now facing his phone.

“tess couldn't sleep,” nyck responded, a hand resting lightly on her back. “too excited, i suppose.”

“tess, or you?” you teased.

he grinned, watching you with a look in his eyes you'll never get tired of. “both?”

“uh huh.” you scoffed lightheartedly, switching the phone from one of your hands to another. “you should sleep. both of you.”

“but we want to stay up for you!”

“absolutely not.” you gasped. “you'll ruin her sleep schedule entirely, nyck!”

“but she misses you.” he pouted. “isn't that right, tessie?”

tess only babbled in response, making you deadpan at the whole exchange. this should've come as no shock, really. nyck had been wrapped around your finger since day one and then around little tessie's the moment she was born. this behavior was just about expected. 

you sighed. “let her sleep if she falls asleep, yeah?”

“yes, ma'am.” he responded with a grin, repositioning himself yet again as he sat up, took tess into his arms, and held the camera with one hand. “isn't your flight boarding pretty soon?”

“yeah.” you nodded. “few minutes, actually.”

“you hear that, dropje?” nyck whispered to tess, sounding about an octave higher. he placed a light kiss to the top of her head. “sooooon.”

you giggled, shaking your head. “i miss you guys.”

as soon as nyck began to respond, tess' babbling increased, muffling his response. making both of you guys giggle again. 

“think that's her way of saying she misses you too, hm?” 

“or a please don't ruin my sleep schedule, dad.” you chided softly.

“hey.” he gave you a pointed look, feigning offense at your light jab. 

you only smiled. before you could say anything else to him, a loud voice interrupted -- the airport announcer. your flight was beginning to board. you perked up immediately.

“hey, nyck? i've gotta go. flight's boarding.”

“okay.” he smiled. “stay safe, schat. love you.”

“love you too. and you also, tess.”

the last thing you saw was him picking up her tiny hand to wave at the camera before you hung up. 

by the time you'd landed, picked up your luggage, and took the uber home it was near 4:30AM. you were really hoping they were asleep, mostly for the sake of tessie's sleep pattern and how messing it up would ruin your daytime schedule. but also because you knew how tired nyck got with everything he had to do in a day. you didn't want him to waste sleep hours over waiting on you.

making it upstairs in your home, you made a point to be quiet. just in case. you opened the door to you and nyck's bedroom slowly, wincing when it creaked. a sense of relaxation came over you immediately with the sight you were met with.

nyck, laying on his back on your shared bed. tess laying on top of his chest, his arm slung over her protectively. you couldn't help but snap a photo before anything else.

climbing into bed with extra care to be as silent as you could, you lay your head on his free arm. if it wasn't the door creaking that's what woke him up.

thankfully, he didn't move so much as to wake up your daughter, he only craned his head your way, eyes unfocused still. then they widened, and his mouth opened in surprise. “you're back?” he asked, voice groggy from sleep.

“hello, my love.” you said, smile wide as you snuggled into him. “go back to sleep. greetings in the morning.”

“yeah... okay. okay, goodnight.”

it was hardly nighttime, you believed you both knew that. sunrise was in a mere few hours. but you let yourselves have this. “goodnight.”

and you haven't felt more in peace before. laying there with your family, feeling their warmth. you couldn't properly describe the feeling if you wanted to, but it's moments like these that made this plain old house home.

[ofsaintandsinner]

Nyck sickfic for the soul please 🥺

Sick with the Man-Flu

A Nyck de Vries imagine

To all the he/hims and he/theys and whatever pronouns you use, the man-flu is a serious disease and you deserve to be babied from time to time 🫡

word count: ~200 words

p.s.: my Dutch is a little rusty whoops

Your study notes were spread all over the kitchen aisle, various topics you needed to memorise decorating the island; to an outsider, there was no rhyme or reason to the distribution of printed out articles, self-written cards, and different kinds of highlighters.

But this was your chaos, and you were its master; breaking your concentration once you got to this point was no easy task, yet Nyck had mastered it all the same.

He had slung his arms around your middle, pulling himself into your back, resting his head between your shoulder blades. Intermittently, he squeezed you a little tighter and made pitiful noises—sometimes sniffles, sometimes coughs that resembled those of a dying puppy.

"Hoe gaat het met je, knuffelbeer?" How are you doing, teddy bear?

You asked him, almost absentmindedly, while still trying to comprehend the meaning of your notes.

"Helemaal niet goed," Nyck croaked out in reply; you could hear the stress in his throat in the way he talked, like it pained him to speak any louder than a whisper. Not good at all

"Want me to make you some tea with honey while you get more rest to nurse your cold?"

Nyck nodded into your back, squeezed your middle one last time, and padded back into the bedroom, which he probably shouldn't have left to begin with.

[thebearchives]

just gonna say, that collision between mclaren and ferrari wouldn’t have happened if it was nyck driving…

[vividwritinglove]

i think my simp era for Nyck has just started..

please give him a seat for '23 🥲

[ofsaintandsinner]

Could you write something with nyck and cuddles before bed 🏎️

Adrenaline Lows

A Nyck de Vries imagine

I have feels about Nyck in Monza and...like pliant Nyck...

Word count: ~300 words

Nyck was drained, grateful for the opportunity, but absolutely, irrevocably drained of all the energy he had; Nyck before and after Monza 2022 was night and day. Especially after the adrenaline had faded, the highest of highs—his dream of driving an actual F1 car, not Formula E—led to him crashing, in a literal and figurative sense.

How fortunate—for everyone effected except Alex—that you had chosen to attend this race, where dreams came true; there were congratulatory hugs and kisses before he was whisked away to the media pen and various debriefs that you couldn't bring yourself to care about.

But soon the hustle and bustle of the paddock started dying down; as more and more drivers left, so did the fans.

The car ride back to the hotel was enveloped in a comforting silence. Nyck didn't even attempt to get into the driver's side, slumping against the window and stretching out his arm to rest on your thigh.

Nyck would deny it the next morning, but you assumed that he had made himself heavier on purpose, leaning his weight on you on the way up to the hotel room. He didn't even toe off his shoes before he flopped down on the bed, still sweaty and in his street clothes, but peacefully snoozing away, head buried in the fluffy pillows.

Unlike Nyck, you changed into something more comfortable and finished getting ready for bed; you then managed to convince him to at least take off his shoes and pants before he was too far gone into the land of dreams.

 

When Nyck felt the bed dip under your weight, now shoeless and pantsless, he reached out blindly and pulled you into him, nudging your hand with his head in hopes that you might scratch it. Which, of course, you did; you couldn't resist Nyck one bit.

[ofsaintandsinner]

I’m taking this opportunity to request a Nyck De Vries blurb because I just finished a test and i think i did well so i’m treating myself 🫶🏻

Cold Hands and Hot Chocolate

A Nyck de Vries imagine

a/n: this one is a little bit tailored to Spirit ^ who has apparently never experienced snow, the woes of living in a country so close to the equator. If you know how to ski/snowboard, suspend your disbelief a little :P

word count: ~730 words

p.s.: if you follow me, but not Spirit, you better go follow her 🔪

Nyck had insisted on spending the winter break, or at least part of it, in the mountains, surrounded by snow, and spending the days skiing or snowboarding to your heart's content. He hadn't even considered the fact that you didn't know how to ski, so the first few days consisted of falling on your face a lot and being drenched in snow.

To make up for it, Nyck had given you his favourite jumper and kept making warm drinks of your choice, which placated the feelings of inadequacy and not fitting into an environment that was still unfamiliar to you.

You had just come back from a day on the slopes, landing on your butt more often than not, and Nyck let you have the first shower while he got the fire going. You had taken a little longer under the water than was entirely necessary; it felt too good on your sore body, soothing the muscle aches and various bruises you had acquired.

And after you had towelled yourself dry, you threw on your favourite pair of sweatpants and Nyck's hoodie, which enveloped you in a comforting warmth and a scent that was unmistakably Nyck's—somehow it smelled both of sleep and a little sweat while keeping hints of his deodorant and aftershave locked into its fibres. To achieve complete and utter cosiness, you fished out a pair of warm socks and stuck your feet in them without hesitation.

You shuffled into the living room, which also served as the lodge's dining room and had a direct connection to an open kitchen, and fell onto the sofa with an "oomph".

Nyck, who had been poking around in the fire with concentration etched into his face, turned at the sound and broke out into a smile wider than you could remember.

"Damn, you look beautiful in my clothes."

He said quietly, as if you weren't meant to hear it, to himself, before heaving himself up and taking a few quick steps in your direction.

"Guess I'll go see if you left me any warm water then, patatje." literally: little french fry

He joked before smacking a wet kiss on your forehead and taking off towards the bathroom. You tried to get cosy on the couch that faced the fireplace, but something was missing.

You were dressed most comfortably. The blood in your arteries, which had surely frozen from the time spent outside, was slowly thawing. You missed Nyck on the couch, but you were aware that he'd join you soon enough, so the actual reason for not being able to settle down escaped you.

Until it hit you in the face like a brick, your hands weren't warming up quite fast enough, and Nyck wasn't around to supply you with hot drinks just yet.

So brave as you were, you left the sanctity of the living room and made your way into the kitchen. You grabbed a small pot, two mugs that seemed to call out to you, and everything else you needed for a very indulgent hot chocolate.

You had mixed the milk and cacao powder together by the time Nyck came back into the open space of the connected kitchen and living/dining room.

"Check on the fire and wait in the living room, would you, knuffelbeer?" teddy bear

You nodded towards the fireplace and continued stirring away at the hot chocolate; in lieu of an answer, Nyck kissed your temple and hugged you to himself before taking off to fulfil your request.

When the temperature of the drink was just right, you carefully poured it into the mugs, filling the now-empty pot with water and setting it aside to be taken care of later.

Mugs in hand, you made your way over to Nyck, who seemed like he had become one with the couch after checking on the fire. He reached out for one of the mugs you had been carrying before you had even sat down, greedy for the internal warmth it would surely fill him with.

You lifted them out of his reach, being careful about the hot chocolate not burning your fingers, and set them down on the coffee table before sitting down next to him. In snuggling distance.

And so you and Nyck spent the early hours of the evening. Wrapped up in each other's arms and sipping on hot chocolate, watching the snow silently fall outside of the comfort of the lodge.

[ofsaintandsinner]

If requests are still open, could you write nyck helping you through exams <3

Giving In

A Nyck de Vries imagine

If you're studying for exams right now, good luck! But remember to take time off studying too :)

Word count: ~300 words

P.s.: if this is not what you wanted just hmu again and I'll write sth more wholesome, promise

You sat in front of your desk, head in your hands, and elbows propped up on the clutter of study guides you had written and printed out; you weren't sure what hurt more, your body—most notably your back and elbows, which had turned white from the pressure you put on them seemingly ages ago now—or your head.

Why had you chosen this major? Why had you even decided to pursue higher education at all? You should just drop out and be a full-time WAG; who cared about goals when the hurdles in your way tripped you up? When the falls tore you up to the bone and left you less than a husk of a human?

Nyck had gotten used to the cacophony of sighs, frustrated groans, and the occasional scream of defeat; he didn't like hearing, much less seeing, you like that. But he had offered his help before, and you had just waved him away; he didn't want to get in your way, not when you had enough on your plate anyway.

Still, he tried his best, offered massages for your tired shoulders and backrubs when you finally joined him in bed at a godforsaken time after a god awful day, made sure you had a steady supply of drinks—coffee for the rougher days, sweet tea for the easier ones—and used his skills in the kitchen to whip up dinners and lunches for you.

The last day before your last exam was absolute hell on earth; you crammed like you never had before; you weren't sure people could or should soak up information that quickly, doubting how healthy studying like this was.

The heat of Nyck's embrace around you finally encouraged you to take a break, to sink into the love you knew he held for you; with little effort, he convinced you to let it rest, that it would work out, and that you should really join him in bed for a cuddle.

[ofsaintandsinner]

Snowy Warfare

A Nyck de Vries imagine

a/n: brainrotting about Nyck so hard, all because of @dankeseb-2022...also brainrotting hard over winter shenanigans

if you dislike snow, this is not the imagine for you, oops and tw: if you are sensitive to seeing the word war written out, I suppose

word count: ~1k words

It hadn't snowed quite this much in years—maybe climate change was to thank for turning the provinces into winter wonderlands—and therefore you hadn't expected the snow to actually stay and not melt before sunrise.

But as it was, the weather had been cold enough to bury everything under a layer of white, quieting the hustle and bustle of the streets. The quiet didn't last too long; with the first rays of sun came the first excited shouts of the schoolchildren currently on break from school, a few of whom were probably experiencing their first snow ever.

And much like them, you had never let go of the childlike wonder that snow days had filled you with.

Nyck was on winter break from his job and had taken you along to the Netherlands to spend Christmas with his parents, and you were free from exams and the other various stresses of university. So you could enjoy the cold weather with him, and you had a long list of things to do.

First on the agenda: dragging him and yourself out of bed for a nice breakfast and hot drinks filled into thermos flasks. All in preparation for a long hike, which would surely turn the apples of your cheeks rosy.

You had insisted on going out in full winter gear—ski pants, warm jackets, and even thermo leggings—to fight the bitter cold that snow brought with it. Nyck had then found a trapper's hat in a box that hadn't been checked since the last time it had snowed; aside from keeping his ears from freezing off, the chin straps made for excellent ways to pull him close. A fact you promised to make good use of.

You threw the thermos flasks into a tote, and, with a cheeky slap to Nyck's ass, hounded him out the door and into the cold. There were more kids in the street than you even thought lived in the neighborhood, and anyone not careful enough could be hit square in the face by a stray snowball.

Nyck greeted the kids he knew in his native language before almost getting dragged into the trenches of the snowball fight—it had taken on bigger dimensions than just a fight; maybe saying snowball war would have been a more apt description. He managed to escape being recruited by pointing at you and rambling too fast for a non-native speaker to understand.

So, with Nyck safe from being pelted by the snowy missiles of teens and preteens alike, you wandered on through empty streets, almost ghost town-like, were it not for the warm lights in most windows.

And soon you had reached the outskirts of the city, where the concrete jungle morphed into thick forests and open fields. You were headed to one of the latter, a place you both knew like the backs of your hands, having spent countless evenings there. No matter the weather or season.

The canopy of tree crowns was shielding you from the snow that had started falling once again. You pulled your own hat a little further down, making sure your ears were covered to the best of your ability. It would be a while until you arrived where you had planned on going.

The snow, untouched by any other humans, crunched beneath your feet, and a few birds sang their songs in the undisturbed nature. It was music to your ears.

And, gloved hand in gloved hand, your arms swinging carelessly, you finally made it to your and Nyck's special place.

In itself, the field was nothing spectacular. It was a bigger area just outside the forest, with sprawling grassland in the spring and summer months and leaf mounds in the autumn. In the winter months, when it snowed, the field looked unreal. Not many people in the city came out far enough to experience the solitude, much less did so when it had just snowed.

So without much thought, you hung the tote onto a nearby branch and fell to your knees in the snow before twisting around and collapsing onto your back.

Nyck stared at you with such fondness, you were sure he would soon start leaking it. He joined you without much effort, leaving you enough space to make your own snow angels. He was the first to get back up, complaining that his back was getting too cold to continue laying down. 

Being the most doting and loving boyfriend, though, he helped you up and away from your snow angel without disrupting the perfect picture. He snapped a few shots of it, some with your gloved hand photobombing his efforts.

As compensation for doing so and promising to add the best of the photos to his Instagram Christmas dump, Nyck demanded to just enjoy the quiet and cold for a while. With warm drinks in hand, you enjoyed each other's company for a while.

Not soon after, Nyck started complaining again. About being cold, his toes becoming blocks of ice, and no longer having any feeling in his nose or ears. With some reluctance and a lot of teasing, you gave in and went to grab the tote that was still dangling from a brach.

The moment you reached out to grab it, you felt something cold slide down your back. Surely it had been from the tree you had disturbed; Nyck wouldn't shove snow down your back.

Turning around a little stiffly, you fixed your boyfriend—whose gloves were speckled with loose snow, as you quickly noted—with a glare.

"This means war, de Vries."

And maybe wrestling in the snow made neither of you any warmer nor healthier, but the warm bath you sunk into together—in hopes of thawing your limbs—made it all worth it.