Being the Conor Maynard’s girlfriend wasn’t the easiest thing in the world. You had been dating for a few months and really cared for him, but sometimes, you wondered if putting up with the fans was even worth it. They were always nit picking every flaw you had and constantly made up nasty rumors. Obviously Conor never believed any of them, but it still got old seeing your Twitter feed full of lies.
One day, you tweeted out that you would be going through the (S/N) tag on Tumblr if anyone wanted to post something they’d like you to see. You were good friends with a lot of YouTubers, so you had quite a big following yourself. Usually the posts on the (S/N) were kind, so you often went on there to escape an exceptionally rotten day.
Today, however, was different.
The tag was full of nasty things about you. It ranged from everything from a horribly photoshopped picture of you edited to be far larger than you really were, or another nasty rumor like you were cheating on Conor with Jack (again, that was a common one). Usually, you could look past it. You could close the app and focus your mind on something else like a book or film, but today, you couldn’t. Today, your eyes were glued to your phone screen, soaking in all the hate and telling yourself that everyone was right.
You finally locked your phone and walked over to your full length mirror. You stripped down to your bra and underwear and stared at the figure in front of you. Your belly stuck out a little and you were convinced you had unflattering hippo hips. Surely Conor could do better than you. Why did he stick with you after all these months?
You hadn’t even realized you had started crying until you felt a tear roll down your nose. You sat down on your knees and put your face in your hands, allowing yourself to cry as your tears rolled down your arms. “(Y/N)?”
You looked up when Conor said your name. He was standing in the doorway to the bedroom, looking at you with worry filled eyes. “Sorry,” you said, trying to wipe away your tears quickly. “I’m fine. Sorry.”
“Babe,” Conor said gently. Your lower lip quivered and your eyes pooled with tears again. Conor quickly closed the bedroom door and came to sit beside you, pulling you onto his lap
“No,” you said, trying to crawl off of him, “I’m gonna squish you.”
“What on earth are you talking about?” he said, urging you to sit close to him again.
“Conor, why are you with me?” you said. “You could do much, much better than me. Surely you know that.”
“(Y/N), what’s gotten into you?” Conor asked, brushing some hair away from your face. “You know I think you’re beautiful.”
“Your fans hate me,” you said, your voice shaking. “They keep making up rumors and photoshopping nasty pictures of me. They constantly tell me I don’t deserve you and honestly everyday I wake up and think they’re right. I’m too big and, and I cry about everything- like this. Why am I crying? It’s not- I’m making this such a big deal and it’s not a big deal. Conor I’m not good at anything I do and there’s got to be someone out there better for you than I am. Why do you suffer through being with me?”
You were still crying and no matter how hard you tried, the tears kept falling. “I’m being stupid,” you said for what felt like the thousandth time. “I just need to accept that fact that you should be with someone else and I should let you go so you can be happy.”
“Hey, look at me,” Conor said gently, pulling your hands away from your face. “Babe, I am happy. I’m so happy. There’s no one out there who’s better for me than you are. I don’t suffer through being with you. I chose to be with you. I don’t want to be with anybody else. Yeah, you have flaws, but so do I. Do you know when the last time I showered was?” You laughed and he smiled and said, “Well, neither do I. I’m disgusting, but you still chose to be with me. That’s the thing (Y/N), it’s choice. Everyday, we chose to be together. We’re not stuck being together and we don’t suffer through it. We wake up every morning excited to be with each other. We ignore what everybody else says and we keep loving each other.”
Conor swiped his thumbs under your eyes, ridding them of any fallen tears. “It’s not going to be easy,” he said quietly. “It’s going to be really hard sometimes. I can’t stop what other people are going to say. All I can do is assure you every second I can that I’m going to keep loving you. Is that okay? Is that enough?” You sniffed, gave Conor a small smile, and nodded.
“Yeah,” you whispered. “Yeah, that’s more than enough.”