Notorious ~ Conor McGregor

Kiss me

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 tear-"

BANG BANG BANG...

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

I bite my lip, looking down at the carpet. Conor grabs my hands, "screw him, we got time."

No, we don't. "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.