#ufcfightpass

[ufcconor]

Masterlist

Notorious

Connor McGregor x Reader Series:

One

Two

Three

Four

Five

Six

Seven

Eight

Nine

Ten

Imagines:

Come on Baby - Knox x Reader (Roadhouse 2024)

[szewcu23]

He's back!!!!! Uwielbiam tego gościa ❤️‍🔥

Przyzję się bez bicia że juz powoli zaczynałem wątpić w powrót starszego z Braci Diaz! Ale całe szczęście się zwiodłem i to się zdarzy!!! Nick życzę Ci jak najlepiej i mam nadzieję że skończysz tą walkę tak jak 17 lat temu przez KO!

[thewreckkelly]

UFC - THE PROFESSION OF VIOLENCE

Like an awful lot of people on this planet, professional competitive sport has been and continues to be a major player in my day to day life. Football is my primary narcotic though it would be fair to say any form of elite athleticism will more than likely hold my attention, interest and curiosity.

Yes I know that watching rather than participating could be considered a form of voyeuristic masturbation while I also know the differing levels of frustration experienced by all humans require different forms of release and expression that is usually exploited by others at some cost – but hey I’m not hurting anyone with this innocent compulsion - am I?

Emperors, Kings, Queens, Popes, Imams’, dictators, despots and democratically elected political leaders have, throughout history, employed and promoted the distraction of organised sporting competition to keep at bay the terror of the masses rising up and expressing honest frustration - in an organized violent manner – for being resigned to a life of limited opportunity.

(Somehow always seeming to be in conjunction with soul destroying levels of disguised tyranny enacted and enforced by our betters through lies, laws and lashings of physical and financial punishments)

It is therefore not too big a stretch to say the progressive nature, construction and attraction of competitive sport continues to be popularized from levels of frustration requiring appropriate outlets by any given populace at any given time. 

Such outlets can usually be provided for and defined by;

·         The beauty of physical form and performance

·         The thrill of second hand success

·         The biting acceptance of honorable loss

·         The controlled anger at poor decisions

·         The bitter sweet shock of an underdog performance

All of these emotions and more are easily connected to exciting the human psyche and have the ability to assuage frustration for the most part. However it must also be accepted that the majority of humans, as evolved animals, have some need to experience or express levels of violent behaviour.

Professional competitive sport tends to provide a second hand outlet for such experience and expression.

From early adolescence to adulthood my two sons graduated from the wild excess of WWE to the octagon landscape of MMA. Throughout the heady days of Stone Cold Steve Austin and the Rock I played along as the dutiful Dad expressing enough interest to encourage and enough cynicism to allow for objectivity. They were kids and the nuances attached to sports like football struggled to compete with the glamour and lunacy of Vince McMahon’s extravaganzas. As a father and sports fan I knew enough to know this.

About six or seven years ago my two lads fell into watching and being intrigued by the relatively new professional sport of Mixed Martial Arts. At the time I wrongly assumed it was merely a graduation from the antics of professional wrestling and paid little or no attention – they were grown men who still took time from their busy schedules to watch the trials and tribulations of Arsenal FC with their somewhat out of touch Dad - which was something I viewed as parental success.

Then along came Conor McGregor!

My experience of MMA to date has grown beyond idle curiosity mainly because this Irishman became the biggest name in the game for a while.

My first hit of the MMA drug was administered with the high profile appearance on a world stage of the bombastic, uncouth, vulgarly base, hugely successful Dublin athlete expressing every sympathy and contradiction known to a ‘New’ Irish generation enjoying freedom and an unfettered voice.

At the time I wasn’t by any means hooked to the sport but rather fascinated by this single competitor.

McGregor’s antics ultimately delivered a strange downfall that included vast riches and an almost universal disparaging flow of criticism I had rarely seen before in the sporting world. His spectacular collapse from grace rather strangely drew me personally to look at the sport of MMA with more consideration and interest.

MMA - or particularly the franchise of UFC - fascinates me and frightens me in equal measure with its facilitation of every sporting extreme. It is truly the profession of violence that has begun to and will continue to diminish and relegate other pretenders, like boxing, to a thing of the sentimental past.

It’s a multi disciplined savagery contained within a strange arena having few rules and diabolical toughness - a modern gladiatorial contest to lever the inhibition of viewers to excessive heights of euphoria through second hand unthinkable violence - fascinating and compulsive.

I struggle to comprehend how it can be succeeded as a controlled sporting exercise and spectacle in providing an outlet for much of our human frustrations. 

But hey what do I know – I always thought wrestling was fake.

[cx3djc13]

Congrats to the new UFC Featherweight Champion Cris Cyborg!!!! She well deserve it! 🙌🏼👊🏼💥 #CyborgNation #AndNEW #CrisCyborg #UFC #UFC214 #UFCFightPass #Featherweight #FeatherweightChampion #UFCChampion

[ufcconor]

Notorious

Conor McGregor x Reader

1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9

SMUT WARNING

The press conference started well, no yelling, just light banter being thrown back and forth. A fan stands up to the mic asking a question for Conor.

“Conor, you’ve always praised your team for their work. Is there anything particular they do that helps you out?” Conor picks up his mic, sunglasses low. “Ah, my team is the best. My trainers work constantly into the late hours. Not to mention my great PR for always keeping my big mouth shut.” Dustin picks up his mic with a snicker. “I thought she liked it wide open.” I cover my mouth in shock at the words.

The crowd gasps at the comment. The comment is so out of character for the fighter. Conor looks over Dana at Dustin, “what the fuck was that? Disrespectful little bitch. A dog is what you’ll be. I’ll drag you out of that octagon by the throat!” Dustin stands up with confidence, “no more waiting, come on, let’s go!” Conor stands and pounces but the guards and Dana separate them.

~

In the gym hours later Conor is still fuming over the event from hours prior. His trainer working him thin, but he just keeps proceeding. “You’re going to wear yourself out. Equal training time is part of the schedule. You’re supposed to be soaking in the shower right now.” I yell over his loud music.

Conor stands from the ground, he walks to me taking a seat. “And where in that schedule does it say for us to have a little chat?” I shrug my shoulders, continuing my email. “(Y/n), there is something we need to discuss.”

I shouldn’t have done this to him. It’s going to distract him from the fight. From everything, he’s been working for. “You’ve got a lot going on.” I stand packing up my laptop. Conor grabs my wrist. “(Y/n). Come on, Lassie. You of all people know what gets me through a fight.” Conor leans in, whispering in my ear. “Being hungry, having something to fight for.” Conor lets his wrapped hands trail down my sides landing on my hips. “I want to fight for you, (y/n).”

I gulp quickly, avoiding his eyes, “come by the room. We can talk.”

Conor smiles with a nod. “Leave the door unlocked.”

~

It was 3 am and I was still waiting for Conor to visit. After another hour I gave up on staying awake. I rolled over in the silk sheets and let sleep consume my mind.

Conor POV:

I open the conjoined door to (y/n)’s room. “Lassie, I’m sorry I took so long. I spent too long with the trainer.” Her body doesn’t even twitch as I speak.

I smile at her limp sleeping form. She’s so beautiful. I draw her hair back from her cheeks, allowing a finger to trace over her soft skin. “(Y/n). Wake up, love.” She stirs but doesn’t wake. She grabs my hand on her cheek. “Stay.”

I stare at her with a growing smile. “Stay?” She nods, a small grin plastered on her lips. “We can talk in the morning. Just stay tonight.”

Without another word, I kick my shoes off and climb into the bed next to her. She scoots close, resting her head in my chest and tossing her leg over mine. I enclose her form in my arms, feeling at peace at this moment. The calming scent from her hair slowly lulls me to sleep.

~

I twitch as a light pressure glides over my jaw. I open my eyes seeing (y/n) on her side tracing my face. “I thought I was dreaming.” She stops her movements as our eyes meet. "You're not the only one." She props herself on her arm, looking at the walls, avoiding my gaze. "(y/n)." I touch her hand softly. I wrap my hand around hers. "I'm sorry for the way I acted towards you in the gym." She smiles, her lips crowning the pearly whites her teeth shine. "I think we just need to talk." I lay back, huffing in frustration. "Now you know that's not my strong suit. I'm a fighter not a lover." She releases a small giggle as she hauls over my torso quickly. She straddles my center, holding my arms down. "Not a lover, huh?"

I let my hands fall to her hips, the pressure building below. "Maybe you could be an exception." She draws near, "Is that what you want?" Her voice is faint as she trails kisses under my jaw. I drag the back of her neck, maneuvering her to a passionate kiss.

We lay in the bed together. the sunlight bleeding through the windows into the afternoon. "We should really get up, you know?" (Y/n) says as she traces the tattoos on my chest. I kiss her forehead, sinking lower into the bed. "It's an off day, lassie. Don't ruin it." She giggles as she nuzzles her head deeper into the crook of my neck. Laying here with her feels so natural. Why haven't we come to this conclusion before? "Conor?" She asks in a quiet voice. "Yeah?"

"What do we do now?"

~

It's been exactly two weeks since Conor and I started... whatever the fuck this is...

Conor will enter his room at the end of the night, but soon enter the conjoining room and jump to the bed with me. "Whatcha watching?" He asks as he plops himself beside me. "The Office." I giggle as Michlae prances around with the purple bandanna on his head. "Don't drop the soap. Don't drop the soap." I toss my head back laughing. Conor raises his arm allowing me to cuddle into his side. How come we never started this before now? Maybe because I work for him...

Our dynamic hasn't shifted insanely. We are still professional in public, giving no indication that there is something unknown between us. We stand in the news studio. Conor gets a mic attached before he goes on an interview, while I stand on the sides making my rounds and begging Conor to not make my job harder. He shrugs with a smirk, "Where's the fun in that?"

As Conor sits at the table awaiting his host. I open my binder, checking off my list of contact I needed to speak with. "Ayee there she is." I look up seeing Conor zoom in on my frame as he records from his seat. "Look at her! Sexist PR agent in the business." I close my binder, unable to contain the smile that bleeds through. "Stop." I wave my hand at him, covering my face. "Do a spin for me." I cover my face with the binder backing away from the view. As I back away to the refreshments table I can hear Conor cackle from his seat.

Hours later the video Conor posted on Instagram was flooded with comments, questions, and rumors from fans alike. I scroll through the sections as Conor showers. By now, he's just moved his things into my room.

AllySpree23: "Are they dating?"

Ash_mash: "Dee? Where she at?"

Covin.roller55: "Fun at the office?"

Lee_Rose: "They're kinda cute."

IzyAudi: "Keeping it professional"

JJonesFan: "She's only in it for his money"

UFCProfessionals: "They're just friends. Have been for years."

Jackson76Hespinoza: "He called her sexy..."

SammySumbmissions: "Dee: 👀"

BestofLewis: "I don't think Dana would approve"

isafukinbet: "We stan a PR Queen"

AlexiaRabbs66: "Conor's Queen"

The bathroom door opens and Conor exits... in only a towel. "What you doing, love?" "Watching your video. Reading the comments." "They love you." I roll my eyes, "I still can't believe you posted it. Not being very secretive." Conor shrugs, "I don't want you to be a secret."

Conor goes to remove the towel but I grab his wrist. I crawl towards him, standing on my knees on the end of the bed, meeting his height. "Should we be doing this?" I ask tracing his chest. He places a hand on my cheek, running his thumb across my cheekbone. "we should be happy."

“You’re so pretty,” Conor says. His hands made their way to my hips. Losing grip of his towel. It hangs on his hips dangerously. I grin at the man, “You think so?”

Conor hummed lowly in reply, continuing to admire me. He wasn’t shy as he let his eyes wander to the cleavage that was practically calling his attention as it paraded in front of him. His hand came up to finger at my neckline, pulling at it to reveal even more of your skin to him. A groan caught in the back of Conor’s throat as he saw the lace of the bra I was wearing.

There wasn’t even a hint of hesitance as I brought the garment over my head, flinging it away to an unimportant corner of the room before retaking your position.

“And what do you think of me now?” I ask, allowing my tongue to run along the inside of my lips.

“Beautiful.” Conor didn’t hold himself back any longer. His left hand traveled even north to wrap around my neck, finding a home there and pulling me forward gently so that he could finally press his lips roughly against my own.

I started to press my hips to grind against his in small waves, the towel becomes even looser, seeking any sort of friction to alleviate the throbbing that had been steadily growing between my legs. I had dreamt of this. Wished for it. Now here I am with his cock ready.

Conor bucked his hips upwards and the sharp jolt caused the towel to fall to the ground abandoned. I pull away from his lips, daring my eyes to avert south. He took a step back, proudly showing off his member as a priceless work of art. I put myself on the floor, slowly lowering myself to all fours, crawling to him. Conor gasps as he watches my movements. I’m faced with him in all his glory. I waste no time grabbing him in my hands and wrapping my lips around his head. He groaned at the sight of my eyes wide and glossy. My mouth was hot around him, tongue lapping him clean.

He was quick to grip his hand on the back of my head, guiding me as I took him in my mouth. The pace he set was merciless. He made it clear that he was the one in control as he forced my head down the length of his shaft, making me gag around him as he hit the back of your throat. His head fell back for a brief moment, eyes almost going cross as I hollowed out my cheeks.

“Fuck!” He groaned out. I was watching him from under hooded eyelids, eyes practically glowing with lust and his gaze was intense as he stared back.

“Come here.” Conor was pumping his fist around his shaft as he watched me stand, legs coming onto either side of him before sitting down on the bed a few feet behind us. He planted another kiss, this one was softer than all the others but still portrayed the rabid need he had for me.

“You’re so gorgeous.” He breathed out shakily, completely enamored at the sight of me below him.

"Do you want me?” He stares directly into my orbs.

“Of course.”

Conor started to slowly spread my leg wide, the head of his cock up with my entrance. His hand on my hip, he used his other to gently and slowly drag the thick head of his cock through the folds, coating it in my slickness. It was easy to relent, to let himself finally sink onto my pussy. The entire room practically shook from the loud groan he let out as he split my pussy open.

”You take me so- fucking well.” Conor felt like he was almost in disbelief, elated from the sight of his throbbing cock disappearing into the sweetness that was my cunt, buried deep inside my slick warmth.

“Feels so- good.” I breathed out shakily between urgent thrusts and grinding of hips. “Yeah?” He cooed as he watched, only keeping the very tip of him in before sinking back down. “You like my cock? I’m gonna make you feel so good.”

He planted his feet firmly on the ground and delivered a sharp and precise thrust upwards the next time you came back down.

“Conor!” I cried out, falling forward as pleasure mixed with the slightest hint of pain bloomed through my body. Conor slid down to get better leverage and began drilling into me at an unrelenting and frenzied pace. His grip on my hips was so incredibly hard as he used it to slam me back against him, but I didn’t care, too lost in the waves that were overtaking my soul.

My walls gripped him tighter and tighter until finally, he watched as my eyes rolled back when reached my peak, walls spasming and moans bouncing around the room. I was seeing stars as my legs shook uncontrollably from the overwhelming feeling.

Conor was relentless as he continued pumping into my cunt throughout my convulsing climax, determined to make me feel the best I ever had, although the pace was much slower than previously. His breaths were coming out in short pants whilst my own were breathy moans as I trembled.

I reached up, threading my fingers through his hair to pull him down slightly to connect our lips in a kiss.

"You’re so pretty when you cum for me.” He murmured after he let you come down for your high for a few moments whilst leaving kisses on your neck. Conor picked up the pace of his hips once again, he drilled into me.

"I’m so close.” He groaned out, hips starting to stutter, unable to keep up the tempo he had previously kept so easily as he leaped and bounded closer to climax.

Conor’s orgasm washed over him with a deep jerk forward, he yanked out, spilling onto my stomach with a loud cry, milking himself completely dry as he twitched slightly.

We stayed silent as he come down from the euphoric actions. Conor grabs my hand, planting tiny kisses on each finger. “Be mine, Lassie.” He hums with a small smile. I scoot closer to him completely exhausted. “You got it, baby.”

[ufcconor]

Notorious

Conor McGregor x OC

Going from Dana White's assistant to Conor McGregor's PR agent? That's a big jump.

~o0o~

-(y/n)-

I was running so late! I sprinted through the busy sidewalk with two coffees in hand. My phone rings as I plant my feet to a stop at the crosswalk. I pull the phone out of my purse and roll my eyes at the name. I take a breath before answering, “Hello! I’m so sorry! I’m-“ “He’s here and you’re late. How far away are you?” I gulp at the boss man's voice. “Uh, just, just two minutes away. I promise.” “Make it one. Hurry up.” I nod sharply, denying myself the right to own his shit and quit, but today is not that day. I bottle my anger and smile, “Yes, Mr. White.”

~

-Conor-

Dana hangs up the phone and tosses it to his desk. “A bit harsh aren’t ya? What’d he do?” I chuckle feeding into the petty drama. Dana shakes his head, “Over my head with that one. She constantly-“ The door opens and a young lady enters, looking quite frazzled. She smiles and holds up the two cups. “I made it in 48 seconds.” She smiles but pushes an underlying sass.

She walks forward, her shoes clicking on the flooring. Setting the two cups on his desk she looks over at me. The sudden wave of energy took me off guard, which never happens. Her smile radiating the room, her eyes drawing me in. “Hi, I’m (y/n). The coffee runner and voicemail taker.”

The corner of my mouth twitches up. I reach my hand out grasping hers. “Conor McGregor.” She nods along with a knowing smile, “The Notorious, right? Good fight with Brimage. Knockouts are the way to make first impressions. Reminds me of this one bull rider that got knocked out by-” Dana chuckles cutting her off, “Anyways, (y/n), when the PR applicants come to the office have them enter all at once. Conor is going to pick. There should be four”

(y/n) nods, turning to leave, “and don’t make conversation. We don’t need any more herding stories ruining the meetings.” She shrugs, “Southern living, Mr. White. Momma couldn’t tame me and I doubt you will either.”

“What was that?” Dana asks shocked. She turns back, regret filling her eyes. “I’ll get the applicants ready.” She closes the door and leaves me with more questions.

Dana shakes his head, “I’m sorry about her. She was recommended by my brother-in-law. I’m starting to think they were playing a prank.” I shake my head, “I like her.” “You haven’t heard her go on and on about her cow in North Carolina. This is her last assignment.” I raise my brow, “does she know that?” Dana shrugs looking through the applications, “last hired first fired.”

~

-(y/n)-

The four girls sit around the small office I have in the hallway between Dana’s office and the rest of the offices. I stand looking through all the names. “Seems we’re all here. Follow me please.” I knock twice before opening the door. “Ladies, come in.” The four line up in front of Dana and Conor. I stand to the side behind Dana.

The women run through their experience and answer the questions Dana requested. “Well, Conor. Do any of these ladies sound like they can handle the job?” Conor looks over the files of each woman. He tosses them on Dana’s desk. He pushes himself up to stand. He walks past each applicant until he comes up to me. He looks into my eyes and smiles. He points and smiles, “(y/n).” Dana chuckles, “funny, now come on. Who? I think Shelby-“ “(y/n). I told you.”

My mouth dries and I drop my folder. Conor bends down, retracing it for me. He passes it to Dana with a smile. “Set her up in the office with a good view.”

Dana stares at Conor, “You’re serious.” He nods, “Lassie, deserves a good view.” Dana nods, “uh, okay, well, (y/n). You’re promoted to PR. You’re Conor McGregor’s agent. Congratulations.”

What?

“Holy moly. Butter my buns!” Conor’s laughter takes over. He shakes my hand smiling. “Dana, give her my contact information.” Conor releases my hand leaving. He turns back once more waving, “I promise not to give you much trouble.”

Boy oh boy, that was a lie.

[ufcconor]

Notorious

1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8

-

I wake up with the sun directly beating into my eyes, I groan rolling over on my back, looking up to the ceiling. "oh my fuck, my head." I squeeze my eyes shut wanting to lay here forever and die. I roll once more, making my way to my bag, I open it pulling out some Advil, and popping four in my mouth. I crawl to my phone only to see it's been blown up by Tom. I roll my eyes, opening the texts, and sending him the picture.

If you wanted someone else, you should've let me know. Please, do not contact me again, Tom.

Send.

After a hot shower and more Advil, I'm stable enough to take on the day. I walk out of my room seeing Conor standing on the other side of the hall. "Hey, you're up early." I look at my phone seeing the time, "Oh, never mind. I'm up late." Conor keeps his arms crossed. "Yeah, now we're behind." He walks to the elevator without another word. I catch up to his pace, "You okay?" he nods without looking down at me, "Fine."

As the interviews go on Dana leans over to me, "What's wrong with him?" He asks gesturing to Conor. He sits in his chair, glaring daggers at Dustin across the room. "Maybe he's really into it." I take another look at Conor, worrying myself. He's very primal this moment as if he could pounce on a dime. I walk to him passing him the sheet of questions for the next interview. "These are approved questions and answers." He rips the sheet from my fingers before brushing me away. I look down at him confused, "Can I get you anything? Coffee? A bagel? Something to get the stick out of your ass?" He bites the inside of his cheek, holding in anger, he dips his head down, looking to me, "Go." His usually bright eyes are dark, scary. I back up behind the camera, next to Dana. "I don't know what's wrong." Dana sighs, "You better figure it out. I can't have these two knuckle it out until fight night." Dana walks off to Dustin's Conor, checking on him.

Conor's interview starts, "I'm here with Conor McGregor, how are you, Conor?" He nods, "I'm good." "Great. Now, Conor, what can we expect to see in the next few weeks?" Conor nods his head in Dustin's direction, "He's going to talk a lot of mad shit. Try to get into my head, manipulate important people around me, he's trying too hard. I'll take his life in that octagon."

Conor stands after the interview and begins to walk along the back wall, watching the room. I look at him but look away quickly. I pack up all my things, making my way out the doors. "Hey!" I turn around to see Dustin. "Yes, Mr. Poirier?" He smiles, "How's your head?" I tilt my head in confusion, "I'm sorry?" He mimics my expression, "Damn, you were really drunk." He waves it off, "I helped you get to your room last night. Just wanted to see how you were feeling today." "Oh. I'm okay. Um, thank you." He nods, "Have a good day, (Y/n)."

I look to my left and see Conor getting in the designated travel fan, I rush over, but they speed off without me. "What the fuck!" I shake my head, feeling the tears well in my eyes, "You need a ride?" Dustin asks just yards away. I shrug, "Better than walking."

~

1 AM and I have yet to see Conor. I've called him 7 times trying to get his attention. I need his approval for the next set of interview questions, plus I want to see what the fuck I have done.

Three hard, devoted knocks land upon the door. I stand while sending Conor another text.

Hey! Swing by when you can, I have some things for you to approve.

I open the door and step back, speak of the devil...

Conor's phone dings, proving he got my text. "I'm here." He brushes past me and moves to sit at the table where everything is neatly laying out. He picks up the pen, avoiding eye contact, "Where do I sign?" "Don't you want to read over it?" "Nah."

As he's about to put the tip of the pen on the paper I jerk the paper away. "Why are you being like this?" He finally looks up at me, his expression so blank. "Conor I haven't done anything to you, but you're treating me like shit." He rolls his eyes, and stands up, making his way to the door, "Don't bother coming to the interviews." I step in front of him, blocking him from the doorway. "What the fuck have I done?" I feel tears swell in my eyes. He stares down at me with unreadable emotions. He tears his eyes away and reaches for the doorknob, but I stop him, pressing my hands to his chest.

He looks down at my hands tangled in the fabric of his shirt. Conor taps his foot, heaving his breath. "Did you fuck him?"

"What?"

Conor's eyes shoot up meeting mine, "Did you fuck him?" I cock my head, confused, "Who?" "Dustin." I take a step back in shock, "Dustin? No. Why the hell would you ask me that?" Conor shakes his head, "I heard you in the bar talking about some fighter in the UFC. Then I saw him at your door." I put my hand over my face laughing, "Conor! I was so drunk I couldn't even find my room. He just made sure I got there alive."

"Well, then who were you talking about, Lassie?" Conor takes a step closer, the door already restricting my escape. "Just... someone." Conor dips down lower, his face almost 6 inches from my own. "Where's Tom?"

"We're not together." Conor hums, a grin growing, "I knew that wasn't going to last. You're too good for him," He presses my shoulders flat against the door, plunging his face down to meet mine. "Conor?" I speak, my voice is as quiet as a mouse. "What?" "Kiss me."

His lips aggressively taking mine. I wrap my arms around his neck, melting into him. I taste it on his tongue, liquor. I pull back, Conor trails kisses down my neck, "Conor," He moans into my skin as he sucks a deep mark on my neck. He pulls away, holding me by my waist. "(Y/n), I'm sorry, but I'm gonna-" Conor moves to the side and pukes all over the floor. He laughs loudly, before falling backward. I gasp as he hits the floor, "Conor!" I quickly move to see the notorious passed out on the floor. "You've got to be kidding me."

~

Conor

"Oh, fuck." I grab my head and sit up on my elbows. I reach for the countertop, pulling myself up. I look around and notice this isn't my room. "Good morning." I turn around seeing (Y/n) sitting on the couch eating breakfast. "Hey, I want-" "Yours is on the counter." She swats my hand away from her food. I grab the plate and take the spot beside her. A thick silence fills the room as we eat. She stands shuffling her feet, "I'm going to wash this and get changed." She steps past me, but at the last second leans down kissing my cheek. I look at her in surprise as she walks away. I touch the searing spot on my skin. "What's gotten into you, lass?" She giggles as she steps into her bedroom... without closing the door. I can clearly see her in the mirror places on the wall beside the bed, at the perfect angle just for my eyes.

She peels her leggings off dropping them on the floor, next was her shirt. Just clad in her underwear, (Y/n) looks directly in the mirror, sending me a wink. I gasp in shock, what has gotten into her? "Conor, will you help me?"

She steps out of the room, a black dress hugging her figure. She smiles and turns around innocently, "Zip me?" I nod silently as I walk to her. Her back is so smooth, so delicate. The line running down her middle as the lord designed proves her to be an angelic being. "Conor?" She whispers. "Sorry, darlin," I grab the golden zipper, pulling it up her back and shielding the skin from the eyes. She turns around and puts her hands out, "So?" I let myself drink her in, so sweet, so beautiful, so caring. "You're breath-taking."

Once again the awkward silence is pulled to the surface. "Conor?"

I stare deep into her eyes, "Yes, (Y/n)?" I lean in closer, she flutters her eyes, "I want you to"

BANG BANG BANG...

"Cars are out front!" Dana yells from outside the door.

I bite my lip, looking down at the carpet. "Come out or I'm coming in!" Dana yells from the hall. "We're ready!" (y/n) rushes around gathering the right thing, her phone, laptop, purse, and my suit. "Come on." I shake my head, leaving the dazed state.

[ufcconor]

Notorious

1 - 2 - 3 - 4 - 5 - 6 - 7

Conor McGregor x reader

-

New city, new hotel, new room...

As before Dana has us stand in separate lines, sending the fighters to the gym, but Conor stays by my side. I look up at him with glazed eyes, he's already looking down at me. I look away quickly, taking a step forward, putting distance between him and I. "Dana told everyone to go to the gym." Conor nods, "Yeah, he did." He takes a step forward standing directly behind me. I can feel his chest rise as he takes a breath. I bite my lip trying to contain myself.

I feel him dip down, whispering in my ear, "You okay, Lassie?" I suck in a gasp. "I feel sick." I place my hand over my forehead, feeling dizzy. "Whoa!" Megan says as I fall into her. "I need to sit down." I grasp her arm for support. What the hell? He makes me physically sick!

Megan leads me to the couch in the lobby, "Do you need some water? Anything?" I shake my head, fanning myself. "I'm okay."

I feel his hand rise onto my leg, he looks at me with concern. He touches my head, "You're warm. We should get you to the room." He goes to pick me up, but I protest, "No, no. I can walk. Plus, I have to go out and call some people." "I thought you were going to do that with me." I wave my hand, "Rather just get it done sooner." I stand, rushing to the front, and going out the doors into the streets. The wind brushes against my cheeks, cooling me down dramatically.

It was almost like it was meant to be, at this exact moment. I could spot him anywhere. Tom strolls down the busy street with a beautiful blonde on his arm. I feel my heart deflate. "fucking asshole." I pull out my phone calling his number, I watch him pick it up, look at my name with distaste, and reject the call. I raise my phone snapping his photo of him and his lady friend as they stroll arm in arm.

"I need a drink."

I walk back in passing the rest of my colleagues and going right to the bar. I sit on the stool running my fingers through my hair, "Rough day, hun?" I look up at the bartender with teary eyes. "He's cheating on me." She shakes her head, fire welling up in her eyes. She pulls up her chair, pouring two shots. She slides one in my direction, "Tell me everything."

~

I sway in the seat, my vision split. "Then all he ever wanted to do was get his rocks off!" "Was it good at least?" I shoot the next shot down as if it's water, the taste a blink at this time. "Fuck no! I had to finish myself off every time." She laughs slapping the bar. "Him? Really? I figured he'd be good!" I roll my eyes, "You'd think!" The bartender puts another drink in front of me, "You've got your eyes on anyone?"

Conor...

I shake my head, "I shouldn't." She hums leaning in, "What's his name?" I shake my head smiling, "I can't really." The bartender rolls her eyes, "You tell me all this, but you won't share just the tiny details?" I laugh tossing my head in my hands, "Okay, okay! It's super... gosh it's bad." "Details details."

I down my drink and push my hands together, "he's a fighter for the UFC, and I have to see him ALL THE TIME. I'm lately aching every hour." She giggles, "Sounds like you just need to go for it." "I'd lose my job." She grabs my glass, "It's a job, there are other ones out there." She unlocks the iPad reviewing my tab, she swipes it over, clearing it all. She looks to me winking, "Just our secret."

I stumble out of the bar and up to my new room. The ride to the 15th floor felt like forever! The doors open and I step out directly into someone, I land on my ass on the floor of the elevator, "Whoa, uh, you alright?" I look up to see Dustin Poirier, behind him I see the number 10. "Dude! I didn't even make it all the way up!" I bust out laughing. He offers a hand, pulling me to my feet. He chuckles at my state, "You okay, (y/n)?" I giggle nodding, "Yeah! I just have to go home." He tilts his head, "Do you even know what room you're in?" I nod, dramatically pulling my phone out, I check my texts, "Dana says I'm in 1515." Dustin runs his hand over his head, "That's the code to get into your room." I read closely, bringing my phone to my face, "Uhhh, 15th floor! Room 1503." Dustin nods, "Okay, let's go."

He steps into the elevator with me allowing silence to take over. "I'm surprised Conor's not with you." I sigh, "My boyfriend is cheating on me." Dustin looks over confused and shocked, "You have a boyfriend?" "Had." "Still. I assumed you and Conor had something going on." I shake my head, "I'm professional, Poirier." The doors open and the 15th floor becomes open, "Yay." I cheer taking a step out. "You're going the wrong way!" Dustin calls from the elevator. I point to my left, "This way?" he groans, "No, Jesus." He grabs my hand dragging me to my door. "Put your code in." I stare at the numbers, "I don't know the code." "Dana sent it to you." "he did?" "Oh, my god." Dustin chuckles.

"Okay, okay. Here it is. 1...5...0...3." I twist the knob and the door opens. "There you do. Goodnight, (y/n)." I wave him off stumbling in the dark. I trip over my bag and land on the floor, "Ahh, shit."

My phone starts ringing, and I answer it in hopes it is the Irishman. "(Y/n). Darling." I suck in my breath, my anger boiling, "Tom." He laughs into the phone, "I want to come to see you! where are you?" "Don't bother." I hang up quickly, tossing my phone across the carpeted floor. "Such a little bitch."