80s bands imagines.

Johnny Marr & John Taylor

@microwavedbabies_

"Hi John!" You sat up in bed, kissing your boyfriend eagerly. He greeted you back and quickly undressed himself, standing in front of the closet to pick out a fresh pair of clothing.

"Hi love. You don't mind being on your own again today, do you?" He browsed through the rack, full in thought with a potential outfit for what you assumed was another band meeting.

You sighed quietly, feeling down but not wanting to let him know. Life in a band was hard, you knew that all too well from the years you'd spent with him but there was never any time left for him to spend with you. "I... I just woke up. You already have to go?" You tried your best not to sound too sad. You didn't want to upset him and beg him to stay with you for the day.

"I'm sorry, Y/N. I have to drive all the way to Edinburgh for this and I have to be on time, it's important."

"All right." You breathed, faking a smile. He never called you by your first name. Never. He always used his plenty of nicknames he had for you, no matter how much you despised them sometimes. It felt almost surreal, hearing your name fall from his lips. Like a parent calling you by your first name after you'd done something bad.

Once he was dressed, he pressed a gentle kiss to your lips and tucked you in, pulling the duvet all the way up to your chin. "Bye love."

"Bye." You whispered defeated.

"I just don't get it!" You exclaimed, the wineglass you were holding slipping out of your hand and clattering to the floor. You were too wasted and hurt to pay attention to the loss of the alcoholic beverage. "The Smiths tour all over the world. You guys are, dare I say it, more popular than Duran Duran at the moment and yet I see you more than I have ever seen John in my entire life."

Johnny laughed. "John's just very busy. I get it, there's a lot of meetings he has to attend."

"Yes I get it too. But you're bloody busy too touring from Africa to America and from the freaking Himalaya to the big blue ocean. Why are you here? Why is John not here?" You asked, getting up and pouring yourself more wine in a new glass.

He didn't know how to answer that and kept quiet, so you continued.

"He called me by my first name today, you know? He never does. I don't think he loves me anymore."

"He does love you, I'm sure." Johnny sympathised, pulling the wine glass from your grip to set it down on the table.

"Then why are you here? Why am I not spending a night getting wasted with my lover, but am I sitting here with a guitarist from a completely different band I shouldn't even be seeing? Why, Johnny?" You were almost screaming the last part, desperate for answers.

He looked down at his feet, falling quiet again. "I need a smoke." He whispered, trying to get up but he was held down by your hand gripping his denim jacket tightly.

"No you don't. Why, Johnny?" You pushed.

"Because I love you. Why would I waste my days sitting here, accompanying you while I should be with my band and getting in trouble for not doing so. Why, Y/N?" He spat, his cheeks heating up at the anger of your oblivion.

"Kiss me." You whispered, pulling him close.