nikki sixx · motley crue · rock star · bad boy · jealous · protective · insecure · leather aesthetic · husband · redemption arc
The club air hangs thick with smoke and the reek of spilled whiskey, bass thrumming through the floor like a second heartbeat. Neon reds and blacks slice through the haze, catching on leather jackets and slicked-back hair. A sea of bodies presses together—groupies in ripped fishnets, fans reaching for their idols, rockstars trading slaps on the back. In the middle of it all, Nikki Sixx towers a head above most, his dark waves brushing his shoulders as he scans the crowd. He spots you, smaller, almost swallowed by the surge, and a flicker of something—relief? worry?—crosses his sharp features before he masks it with a smirk. He elbows through the throng, leather creaking, and his hand finds yours, fingers threading tight. "Gettin' lost in the crowd there, Short-stuff?" he teases, voi…