Sing || Conor Maynard
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Word Count: 1k+
Summary: After never hearing you sing before, the boys are shocked when the opportunity finally presents himself.
Dedicated too: Moana. That movie is life, that movie is life.
Your boyfriend was an amazing singer; that was a give. He’d sold out concerts, climbed the UK charts within hours of releasing a song and won several awards. You’d always been so fucking proud of him, for achieving his dream and staying humble whilst doing so. His fans were loyal, and the few you’d met were lovely. He was living the dream, and the new friends he’d made on the way through were now insanely important to him.
No longer did people only get to hear him sing, now they got too see him be the stomach achingly funny person he was. From his alter ego characters to the stupid things he did whenever the opportunity presented itself.
When his brother first moved from Brighton to London, he immediately insisted that they rent an apartment together; and even ended up with a tree size human living with them too. Thankfully, your apartment was nearby and so you spent the majority of your free time at their place. You weren’t a youtuber, nor were you a singer, but you did run a highly successful blog and guest star in quite a few of the boys’ videos. Other than the occasional hater, everyone seemed to quite like you - mostly due to the fact that whenever you were around, Conor was alot louder and more outspoken. Not that he wasn’t before, you just seemed to bring a larger percentage of that side out of him.
You and Jack got along like a house on fire. You could turn virtually any subject into a listen worthy conversation and often conducted research for his videos and your blog together. When Conor left to go on tour for two months, you spent that time either with Jack and Josh or at home, binge writing to keep your mind occupied. When he returned, you hugged him and woods let go, later on telling him that you were never letting him leave you for more than two weeks again.
After a long day of filming followed by a quiet stroll around Hyde Park, you and the boys were snuggled under your duvets on the sofa and were eating ice cream straight from the pot as Moana played on the TV. You’d never actually seen the movie, but you’d listened to the soundtrack on repeat for days and by now the fact that you’d never actually watched the movie was ridiculous.
So far it was amazing, and your eyes were attached to the TV screen - when you were like this, the boys knew never to bring you out of your trance, the last time they’d done that all hell had broken loose. All because Jack wanted to know if you had any more ice cream.
When the familiar tune of the song you adored began to play, you leant forward in anticipation and sang along subconsciously, having already had multiple jamming sessions to this song hen you were in the shower. It didn’t even occur to you at the time that you’d never actually sung infront of any of them before - but that was the last thing on your mind as the song ended and the movie progressed.
With an hour, the movie was over and you were stunned, leaning against your boyfriend with your eyes wide and your breathing shallow. “Holy fuck, that was beautiful.”
“Yeah, the movie was fine, but you?” Josh exclaims, looking over at you with wide eyes. “Since when can you sing?”
Your heart speeds up and you frown, laughing in confusion and looking between all of the boys who were staring at you with their eyebrows raised. “What the hell are you weirdos talking about?”
“Somehow you knew the entire bloody soundtrack!” Jack says, disbelief written across his face as he looks over at his brother and shakes his head slightly. “Did you know she could sing?”
Conor scoffs and looks down at your red cheeks with an annoyed frown. “No. And now I think about it, I’ve literally never heard you sing until then.”
You wince slightly and look down at your hands. “Sorry. But honestly, I’m not very good. I’m a shower singer and that’s it.”
Conor scoffs and wraps his arms around you, pulling you into him tightly and rolling his eyes at your statement. “Oh please, you hit those high notes like a fucking professional.” He exhales in shock and rests his head on her arm with a loud sigh. “Babe, we could have a number one single by now, you understand that, right?”
Rolling your eyes, you push him away and climb out of the duvet and onto your feet, collecting up the empty pots and metal spoons that’d been placed onto the coffee table at some point throughout the movie. You walk into the kitchen and can’t help but giggle to yourself at the mere thought of being ‘good’ at singing. That was Conor’s job, you only excelled in writing and that was that.
Though when you logged onto snapchat later that day and watched Jack’s story, your heart dropped. He’d managed to record you singing along to the movie, along with the shocked faces of your boyfriend and Josh, all you wanted to do was cry in embarrassment. Thousands of people had probably seen you singing already, and you had absolutely no idea.
You dared to log onto your twitter account a few minutes later, and came across a tweet from your boyfriend which simply read ‘apparently my girlfriend is a better singer, cook, writer and artist than me. go figure.’
You can’t help but smile and like it, before checking your mentions and pursing your lips when you noticed that quite a few of your friends had reblogged the video (that Jack had conveniently posted on literally every social media site), and had expressed their shock. Your large following had also stumbled across the video, and the hashtag #(Y/N)cansing was trending number seven worldwide.
You cheeks flush and you like a few more tweets and even reply to a few before placing your phone down and walking into the kitchen, wrapping your arms around your boyfriends waist and pressing your lips to his back silently. “Have you started writing our number one hit yet?” Her tone was laced with amusement, and he turns around and looks down at her with an eye roll, brushing their lips together and smirking against them.
“So, these lips can do more than one breathtaking thing, huh?”
“You’re such a man whore.”
“Don’t try to deny loving it.”