Niko Oneshot Fanart Novels & Stories

“Get the twins. Clear the counter. Xander—front.” The twins scattered, weaving through the racks and the crowd, their bickering replaced by a trained, silent choreography. Niko, halfway through painting a mural of rolling bread, slung the brush aside with a wrist-flick that sprayed pale blue streaks over the open bagels. “I’ll start the charm.” They pulled a handful of uncured salt, wet it on the tongue, and sketched invisible shapes over the jam jars with speed.

She said, her eyes focused on the drawing book in her hand with the pencil marking on top of it. “It’s pizza right?” Niko asked as he stood up from the bed, walking towards her and placing a peck on her lips. “Nice designs.” He said, his eyes glancing at her before looking back to the designs. “Let’s eat now.” Reyna said with a smile, a sigh escaping her lips as she stood up from the chair. Niko wrapped his hand on her waist immediately, pulling her close to his chest before swooping her on for a kiss. After getting his fill, he let her go before they both walked downstairs.

I wear a demure floor-length flower dress with cap sleeves a sweetheart neckline and long silt exposing one oiled thigh, sitting on the blanket spread out on the floor. Niko sits behind me in a simple white shirt and black pants, the shirt is only burned up halfway revealing his chest, his position relaxed, his feet bare. He did glare at the make-up artist when she came close to him with her bottle of coconut oil indicating at his chest making the poor girl quake in her heels. “Looking into each other’s eyes, Yes! Like so,” the cameraman directs the camera clicking. “Niko places a hand on Lola’s belly, per-fect” is followed by more flashes and clicking.

Nico watched for a moment, then knelt behind her, hands spreading her ass cheeks, teeth sinking into the fleshy curve until she whimpered and arched. Handprints came next. Cole bent her over the vanity edge, palm cracking down—measured, deliberate—until both cheeks glowed hot crimson, the sting radiating deep into her core. She dripped onto the tile before he finished. Nico produced a small pot of edible gold body paint—shimmering, sweet-scented. He pushed her thighs apart on the bed, dipped a fine brush, and wrote in elegant, looping script across her lower stomach just above her mound: Vegas House Toy. The letters gleamed wet under the lights; he blew softly across them to set the pigment,

Pity flows through me for him, he has no idea what’s in store for him later. I’m almost hidden by one of the large stone pillars and from here I watch the room. Nico is by Damians side, he looks like one of the angels from the renaissance and I am most certain that he was used as inspiration for the great Italian masters. His face looks serious as he listens to whatever Damian is saying, there is a bright eyed adoring fledgling hanging from Damian’s arm looking at him like he is a god. Foolish girl. Nico’s eyes keep roaming the room and I know he is looking for me but I can not make myself move in their direction.

Looking at me and Rhys with our hands together and Niko crouched down on the path ahead. His face had gone completely still. His eyes moved between us. Between Rhys and me. Then to Niko. Back to Niko. He stayed completely motionless for a moment that stretched long enough to become something uncomfortable. Like his brain was running a calculation it couldn’t complete. Like he was looking at something that didn’t fit inside the space where his understanding of things lived. Niko stood up from whatever he had been examining and turned around and the afternoon light caught his face and there was nothing ambiguous about it.

If not, then that’s how he’s gonna die. I glanced at Luciano who didn’t leave me even after hearing his brother ridicule him. My eyes turned to glare at Nikola but before it, I had a glimpse of a huge painting behind him; that was of a gorgeous brunette girl, her bluish oceanic eyes stood out first than her plump lips painted in red. She was partially naked and that somewhat upset me because she didn’t look like a whore, she had a virgin face and the fact I didn’t leave unnoticed she resembled me, a lot. A bucket of ice water cascaded on me.

Nico pulled the burner out—slow, deliberate—and powered it on. The screen lit up plain and unassuming. He opened the group chat labeled **No Spectacle**. Four names stared back. He hesitated—thumb hovering—then typed the first message he’d ever sent them. **Nico:** I’m going to the party. With you. All of you. But I’m not dancing. Not yet. Just… there. He hit send before he could overthink it. The phone buzzed almost instantly. Elara’s grin was slow and wicked as she checked her own burner.

I shook my head, “ if he is then they need to set up another pack somewhere else, both of you will clash again and it won’t be good for any of us, what happened anyway for his aura to come out?” Nico’s face contorted as if he was in pain, “his pup, she’s feisty and has a mouth on her, called me a pervert.” I couldn’t stop the laugh and tried to cover it with a cough, but it didn’t work, his face reddened, and I held up my hands in surrender to him, “why, why would she call you something like that, what did you do? Did you call her a hottie or something?”