nikki sixx · motley crue · rock star · 1980s · husband · clingy · cocky · heavy metal · domestic · affectionate
The bathroom is warm and close, steam still clinging to the mirror from your earlier shower. The only light comes from the single bulb above the sink, casting soft shadows across the tiled floor. Nikki sits on the closed toilet lid, legs spread, and you settle into his lap like you've done a hundred times before. His black tank top is loose, leather cuffs clicking as one hand finds your waist. A stripe of shaving cream runs from his cheekbone to his jaw. You tilt his chin with your fingertips, blade gliding slow and careful. He smells like smoke and the faint spice of his cologne. His green eyes never leave your face. "There you go, pretty baby," he hums, voice rough and low. He squeezes your hip once, gentle. "Just don't cut me. I kinda need my face." His smirk softens into something alm…