#macklin

[martinipanini]

i need to call you back // mc71 x reader

pairing: macklin celebrini x reader

summary: you and macklin decide to play a prank you saw on tiktik on will... his reaction is very unexpected.

warning(s): established relationship, pranks, silly fluff, interpreted implications of cheating.

words: 1.3k

as soon as i showed mack the video, he was bouncing off the walls with anticipation. 

i’d come across the trend of calling your boyfriend’s friends to see if they lie or not about him being with them. 

now, with macklin’s friends in particular, this idea happens to be a little more complicated. when your boyfriend is constantly traveling around the country for work with his best friends, you really don’t have many opportunities to build good relationships with them. 

especially when you —and your boyfriend —both happen to be chronic introverts. 

mack lays beside me on the couch, already giggling like a little kid pulling a prank on his parents. “hurry up! i’ve been waiting all day,” he whines while tilting my phone toward him to see if I have a contact pulled up yet. 

our first victim, will smith (hockey), is showcased on my screen, ready to call. his contact name causing me many teases since it was first discovered. 

sue me for not wanting people to think i’m calling will smith... (actor). 

laughing at macklin, i roll my eyes before looking at him seriously. “okay, you have to be quiet though. you know he’ll hang up as soon as he thinks it’s a prank.” 

he immediately goes dead silent, nodding quickly. 

smiling softly at his antics, i brush his hair out of his face and press a quick kiss to his forehead. in return, he snatches my phone and presses the call icon. 

shaking my head, i scoff.  

the phone barely rings before will’s panicked voice sounds through my phone speakers. “hey, are you okay?” 

instantly channeling a stressed tone, i sigh quietly, convincingly. “uh... actually, not really. i’m sorry, i just have to ask you something.” 

his response is immediate, relieved. “oh, so you’re okay then?” 

mack raises a brow next to me, staring at the phone like it’ll personally answer his unasked questions. 

i realize that my unprompted call —and the fact that macklin isn’t with him right now —probably caused him to think something physically happened to one of us. 

“oh, yeah, sorry. i didn’t mean to worry you. i just- is macklin with you?” 

i rush the question out with conviction, forcing my voice to sound more worried than it’s ever been in regards to mack’s whereabouts.  

there’s a pause... then a simple question, not giving anything up yet. 

“why?” 

he’s suspicious. macklin is covering his mouth. i kick him. 

“well...” i sniffle to make it sound more believable, “he hasn’t answered me for hours, and he said he was going to be with you all evening.” 

i don’t say what i’m thinking exactly, letting will put the pieces together by himself. macklin laughs quietly next to me. 

my foot makes contact with his ribs this time. 

i hear will’s footsteps on the other side of the line, clearly pacing now, connecting the dots. “he’s not answering you?” 

i have to pause, pressing my hand to my mouth to stop myself from laughing, before i answer him. “no. i assumed you guys were doing something and he just hadn’t seen it, but now i’m getting worried.” 

i don’t hear will’s voice for a hefty minute after that. i’d have thought he figured it out and hung up on me if it weren’t for his loud pacing in the background. 

“um... i need to call you back.” 

he doesn’t wait for a response. the sound of his steps cut off suddenly. gasping, i whip my head to macklin. he looks at me equally surprised —both of us unsure of what just happened. 

then his phone starts ringing. 

his eyes go wide, freaking out. “what do i do?!” 

“answer it!” 

he fumbles with his phone as he answers, immediately falling into character. his voice coming out chill... too chill. 

“hey man, what’s up?” 

“where the fuck are you?” 

will’s voice comes out more serious than i’ve heard it before. from the look on mack’s face, he relates. “woah, dude, what’s wro-” 

he doesn’t get the chance to finish his sentence, will interrupting with a particular protectiveness i wasn’t aware i'd earned from him. 

“stop. i’m not in the mood to deal with some bullshit right now, macklin. why the hell is your girlfriend asking me where you are? you better have the best fucking excuse —especially after lying to her by telling her you’re with me.” 

he leaves no room for mack to turn this into a joke, clearly not willing to mess around with a situation like this. something tells me that mack has never been acquainted with this side of his best friend before. a good thing i suppose. 

mack, trying not to burst out laughing, tries to redirect the question. “fuck, she texted you? why didn’t she just wait for me to respond?” 

this doesn’t do anything to deter will. “no, she called me. and she didn’t wait because she sounded worried as fuck about you, while you’re doing God knows what. she said it’s been hours. where are you?” 

answering his question isn’t optional anymore. his patience is wearing thin. 

“i- well... funny stor-” 

the phone call ends. 

we both stare at each other in awe. the giggles having cleared out at the intensity of will’s voice. “i did not think he’d get that ma-” 

cutting mack off for the third time —this time unintentionally —my phone rings again. 

i don’t have to check it to know who’s calling. 

will smith (hockey) 

clicking the accept button, i rush to put it on speaker. “hello?” 

he doesn’t wait to rat out his best friend. “he’s not with me.” 

covering my mouth with my hand, i rush to put my phone on mute. whispering to mack, “what do i say?” 

he whispers back, as if talking louder would cause will to hear our plotting. 

“act distraught. ask where i am.” 

taking a deep breath, i unmute my mic, breathing a little unevenly. “what? where is he?” my voice coming out pitchier than i intended.  

it does the job. 

a sigh sounds from my phone speakers. “i- i’m not sure. i’m so sorry. i called him...” i wait for him to continue. he scoffs, thinking of his conversation with mack. “fuck, i’m so sorry, i think he’s with someone, y/n.”  

the words escape him too quickly. the concept of his best friend doing something like this pains him. he’s upset with macklin. he’s upset for me. 

macklin mouths something to me. he knows i can’t read lips for shit. 

i press mute again and tilt my head at him. “what?” 

“we have to tell him that it’s a prank. he’s going to kill me.” 

i nod quickly, knowing that neither of us expected will to take it this seriously. 

unmuting, i clear my throat. opening my mouth to admit to our antics, will speaks up again. “i’m so so sorry. i swear i didn’t know anything about this. if i did, i would’ve- God, i don’t know. i would’ve done something though.” 

macklin, like the little asshole that he is, bursts out laughing. sudden, loud, and irritatingly infectuous. i chastise myself for laughing along with him. 

i can see tears in his eyes, sending me further into my hysterics. my state only has a ripple effect on him. 

“uh... hello?” 

i’m not even kidding, will’s voice makes me start crying. by the time we collect ourselves, tears are streaming down both of our faces. 

“oh my gosh, will...” i pause to laugh again. “will, i’m so sorry!” 

beep beep beep. 

the phone call ended again.  

my neck hurts from how fast i turn to look at mack. both of us are calm for a second before a text comes through. 

will smith (hockey)       i hate you both. tell mack to watch out at practice tomorrow. 

and just like that, we’re bent over in laughter again. 

[willmacknation]

OMG, SMITTY!!! GET. OUT. OF. HIS. FACE. FOR. ONCE!!!!

[elovesya]

no words honestly

[abilouwrites]

TREAT ME LIKE YOU NEED ME

OH PLEASE BABY DONT BE DENSE

NSFW +18 MDNI 3SUM! AGE GAP!! SUBSPACE?! MFM!! Please do not read if this combination makes you uncomfortable and please do not come into my inbox telling me it makes you uncomfortable. Not proofread

Sidney Crosby had known of Macklin celebrinis girlfriend since the Olympics, when he was finishing lacing up and overheard a complaint from Macklin about an intimate detail of their lives, “I love her y’know- but every time we try and have sex I just… I can’t make her finish. I mean we’ve never had sex with anyone but eachother so maybe that’s why?” Macklin stares down at his gloves.

That was over six months ago, so- color him surprised when the same sentence had been repeated again, “but I can’t like blame us we’ve never been with anyone else. We’re both virgins”

Sidney has to force himself to not sigh out loud, because it’s really not that hard to make a girl come. He doesn’t hate locker room talk, hell. He’d participated in sharing his own sexual escapades in his youth; but it’s pitiful hearing months apart that you still haven’t had a proper orgasm.

Macklin catches Sidney shaking his head, “what you’ve never not made a girl come?” He asks; voice tight and defensive

Sidney scoffs, “once. It’s really not that hard Macklin” mack rolls his eyes.

“If you’d met her you’d understand”

Sidney looks up at Macklin, swallowing and licking his lips before replying, “let me meet her” He stands, pressing a hand to macklins shoulder. Thankful for the now empty locker room, “let me show you how easy it is”

When Macklin first asks about having Sidney Crosby teach the two of you how to properly have sex, you think he’s joking, or drunk. Or both. Laughter bubbles out of your chest and subsequently dies when you see him remain stern faced, “you’re kidding?”

“No”

Macklin moves to the edge of the hotel bed, sitting across from you, “we can’t finish each other off and. I think it might be… fun?” When he reaches for your ankle you don’t pull away, but he can see the goosebumps against your skin, “he is more experienced than the both of us”

You stare at him, pondering the idea of the Sidney Crosby seeing you and mack. Watching. Critiquing. He’s not wrong, whatever the two of you have been doing clearly has not been working, “okay” You murmur, “um.. when?”

Macklin perks up, eyes beaming and wide with the approval, “tomorrow?”

You gulp, “okay..”

Sidney Crosby meets you, officially the following night. He’s seen you in the news, briefly interacted with you at team events. You look different now. Soft lighting; hands shaking and twisting at the necklace against your chest. All this nervous energy and nowhere for it to go, “we don’t have to do this” Sidney says as the door clicks behind him, “the moment you’re uncomfortable; or it’s too much we stop”

Macklin walks over to you, wrapping an arm around you, “whenever you want to stop we can stop. Okay?”

You nod, “okay. I just- um. Never done this before” you twiddle your hands together, nervous eyes flicking between Sidney and Macklin.

Sidney nods, “that’s ok sweetheart, I’m gonna take good care of you and Macklin, show you how to do it right” Sidney watches as you inhale, hoodie loose around your upper body. Sweatpants that show how you’ve been lounging around with mack, “can you take this off for me honey?” Sidney asks, watching as Macklin gives you room.

“‘M not wearing a bra” You murmur as you lift the sweatshirt over yourself, your nipples pebble at the coldness of the air, “or a shirt” you add on. Sidney doesn’t hide the fact he’s looking at your breasts. The way your stomach quivers at the cold, goosebumps around your skin.

“Fuck” Sidney breathes, he wants to step in closer. Take your breasts into his mouth and lick and suck on them until you shake and cry with pleasure. But he refrains, “why don’t you take those off too” he pulls at the drawstring of your sweatpants.

Your panties aren’t lacy, just simple light pink cotton. You kick them away, looking from Sidney to mack, “why am I naked.. why aren’t you naked”

“I can fix that” Macklin replies, eagerly stripping down to his boxers. Unashamedly showing his boner off to your wandering eye.

“Can I touch you?” Sidney asks you, waiting for that verbal. ‘Yes’ before stepping close to you. Hands settling on your hips as he guides you backwards onto the king sized bed. Watching as you lay on your back when Sidney gently pushes you down. He stands between your spread legs, he brings his hands up to your breasts. Touching them softly. You lean back into the bed; mouth agape and soft moans leaving your mouth as Sidney gropes and feels your breasts, “Macklin” Sidney orders, “come here”

Macklin obeys, standing where Sidney once stood, “yes?” He asks.

“Show me how you do it” Sidney tells him, gently smacking Macklin when he goes to pull his boxers down, “with them on”

Macklin grabs at your hips, crawling over you onto the bed. He slots his hips between your legs, watching as you gasp and moan at the sensation, “Mackie” you whimper, gasping as his clothed cock bunches against your slit.

“Touch her breasts for me” Sidney orders. Smiling to himself when Macklin shakily reaches for your chest. Large hands harshly groping your breasts. You shake your head, pouting at the unwelcome sensation, “does that feel good baby?” Sidney asks, already knowing the answer.

“No!” You cry out, “too hard!”

Macklins grip softens, you moan from pleasure. Hips rocking with his, head tossed back as he grinds against you.

You whine loudly, hands reaching to touch Macklin. Feeling the muscle of his back as he humps against you, “mnh” Macklin groans, “I’m gonna- gonna” Macklins body tenses, hips attempting to hammer into you. Pathetically blocked by his boxers and your underwear. He comes like that, hips curled up and stuttering as you wail.

“Mackie I wanna finish too” You pout, looking to Sidney for help. Sidney toys with the waistband of your panties, slipping his hand down to your cunt. You gasp a moan, eyes fluttering closed as he gathers your slick onto his fingers, “yes” You nod, “Sidney, yes”

“Take those off” Sidney orders to the two of you. And you both eagerly slip out of your underwear, kicking it onto the floor. And you eagerly spread your legs.

Macklins cock goes hard again, the sight of Sidney’s fingers buried inside you, creamy fluid seeping from your opening, “can I. I wanna. Wanna be inside her”

Sidney looks over, “gonna have her come on your cock?” Macklin mouths a yes, “gonna make you see how she comes on my fingers”

Your toes curl when Sidney thumbs at your clit, his hand reaching to pull your thighs up. Showing off the Macklin the way you greedily take him, “look at this good girl” Sidney says, “can’t believe you haven’t been making her finish” He strokes your clit gently, “most sensitive cunt I’ve ever seen”

You gasp, hand reaching to hold Sidney’s wrist, “don’t stop” you beg, “I’m- I’m gonna cum” you repeat, nodding to yourself as you tighten around Sidney’s fingers. Mouth falling open with a silent moan as you go slack against the bed.

You stay there, breathing softly, “gonna have Macklin fuck you now. That okay?” Sidney asks. When you nod, “need you to say it for me baby”

“Yes”

Sidney watches Macklin slowly push into you, legs shaking as Macklin’s cock fills you up, “m—nnhgh” you rock your hips up, greeting the head of his cock with your pelvis. Eyes rolling back as Macklin slowly thrusts. His own body tired from before, reeling at the overstimulation of your raw warmth wrapped around him.

He leans forward, pressing gentle kisses into your neck as you moan. Head rolling to look back at Sidney, standing to your side. Cock in his hand. Stroking himself to the sight of you, “keep fuckin her” Sidney says, “just like that, such a good boy”

Macklin whimpers at the praise, tears cloud your eyes as the overstimulation rolls into you, Macklin hitting so deep inside you, the praise of Sidney. The orgasm from before making you soft against the bed. The plap of skin against skin, slick sliding against your thighs, “I’m gonna cum” you gasp, “Mackie- Sidney I- I’m gonna cum”

“M-me too!” Macklin gasps.

“Don’t pull out!” You beg, nails digging into Macklins back, “need to feel you like- ngh! Hah!”

Macklins head bows between your chest, taking in one of your nipples with his mouth as you finish around his cock. Cream coating the base of his member, your eyes fluttering closed as Macklin empties himself inside you.

You lay there, legs shaking. Watching as Sidney finishes into his hand. Macklin pants softly, still deep inside you. Cock softening in your warmth, “that was so good” He murmurs. You can only nod, head spinning and chest heaving.

You huff slightly when Macklin pulls out, white sheen coating his cock as he lays out onto his back. Sidney approaches from the bathroom. Soft towel in hand, “gotta clean her up” He instructs, “shes in a subspace right now. Your responsibility to make sure she’s ok”

Macklin nods, jumping up to grab the towel. Gently wiping the warm damp cloth against your thighs, and inner legs, “too sensitive?” He asks when you gasp at the warm contact against your cunt.

You make a sound that Macklin believes is approval.

Sidney nods to himself, watching your eyes droopily flutter closed, “hopefully this helps your head on the ice” He comments.

Macklin looks up, “if.. if I wanted to do this again…”

Sidney nods. And then quietly slips out the door

[silverarrowslinings]

IT'S THE SAME PICTURE

forgive me if we've done this already, i'm new around these parts.

[allaboutmacklin]

he shouldn’t have said her name MC71

summary: macklin never fought in hockey games. ever. but when an opposing teammate says something about his girlfriend, oh it’s on.

requests: closed

masterlist

Macklin Celebrini could take hits.

He could take cheap shots, elbows to the ribs, slashes behind the referee’s back, and chirps so creative they could’ve won comedy awards.

But there was one thing—one single line—that no one, absolutely no one, was allowed to cross.

And tonight, someone crossed it.

—

Pre-Game Tension

The arena in Vancouver was electric. Rivalry game. Sold-out crowd. Everyone buzzing with that sharp, buzzing tension that came when the Sharks visited.

The locker room felt tight, heavy. You could practically taste adrenaline in the air.

Macklin sat on the bench tying his skates, trying to focus on his breathing. Normally he was calm before games. Focused. Smooth.

But not tonight.

Not when he knew Y/N was in the stands for the first time in weeks. She was sitting third row, behind the bench, wearing his jersey—number on her back, his name stretched across her shoulders.

Every time he thought about it, his chest warmed.

And every time he thought about the guy on the opposing team—Trevor Hale—his jaw tightened.

Hale had been running his mouth all season. Trash talk was normal. Every player did it. But Hale had gotten personal. Way too personal.

Especially after he found out Macklin had a girlfriend.

“Hey Celebrini,” Hale had smirked last game, “did your girl ever get tired of waiting for you to grow up? She looks like she needs a real man.”

Macklin hadn’t reacted then. He’d skated away, jaw locked so hard his teeth hurt.

But tonight—Hale was already looking for him.

And Macklin could feel it coming.

Coach tapped him on the shoulder. “You ready, Cele?”

“Always,” Macklin said, but his voice came out lower than usual.

Focused. Sharp. Dangerous.

—

In the Stands

Y/N had never been nervous watching Macklin play before. She’d seen him take hits. She’d seen him get shoved into boards, get slashed, get knocked down. He always bounced right back up.

But tonight… something felt different.

She watched him during warmups—how stiff he was, how he kept glancing toward the other team, not even trying to hide it.

Something was off.

“You nervous?” the fan beside her asked with a grin.

She forced a smile. “Just… want him to stay safe.”

The man nodded. “It’s gonna be a nasty game. Everyone can feel it.”

Y/N swallowed hard.

She wished she could shake the feeling that something bad was about to happen.

—

The First Period — The Warning Signs

The puck dropped. Instantly, bodies collided.

Not even ten seconds in, Hale lined Macklin up for a hit. Macklin braced—absorbed it—didn’t fall.

Hale smirked, tapping the top of Macklin’s stick with his own.

“How’s the girlfriend?” he taunted casually. “Saw her little picture on Instagram. Cute.”

Macklin didn’t respond. Didn’t look at him. Didn’t even flinch outwardly.

Inside, though, something cracked.

Shift after shift, Hale targeted him. Slashes. Late hits. Elbows.

The refs warned him twice.

He didn’t care.

End of the first period, Macklin skated back to the bench breathing sharp and controlled.

Coach noticed instantly. “You okay, Cele?”

“I’m fine.”

He wasn’t.

He was one insult away from losing it.

And Hale knew it.

—

Second Period — The Line Crossed

Eight minutes in, Macklin carried the puck through the neutral zone. His focus was razor-sharp. His skates carved effortlessly into the ice as he wove past defenders—

And then Hale slammed into him. Late. Hard. Illegal.

Macklin hit the boards, shoulder first, grunting.

Whistle.

Fans booed.

The play stopped.

And that’s when Hale leaned down next to his ear and whispered the words that snapped something inside Macklin completely:

“Maybe I’ll take your girl out after the game. She looks lonely when you’re on the road. Bet she needs someone who can actually satisfy her.”

Macklin stopped breathing.

He stood up slowly.

Hale was smirking.

And the next thing Hale saw was Macklin’s gloves hitting the ice.

—

The Fight

Gasps erupted through the crowd. The arena went silent except for the sharp clattering of equipment as both players threw down.

Macklin didn’t even hesitate—he grabbed Hale by the collar of his jersey and yanked him forward.

“You don’t talk about her,” Macklin snarled, voice raw.

Hale chuckled, “What, did I hit a nerve, pretty boy?”

Macklin’s fist collided with Hale’s jaw so fast the cameras barely caught it.

The crowd ROARED.

Hale stumbled back, shocked.

Then swung.

Punch met punch. Helmets shook. Blood splattered across the ice. Hale landed a hit to Macklin’s cheekbone, but Macklin didn’t even feel it.

He wasn’t fighting for pride.

He was fighting because no one disrespected Y/N like that. Ever.

“You keep her name out of your mouth!” Macklin shouted, slamming Hale down onto the ice.

The refs dove in.

The bench was on its feet—some cheering, some yelling for Macklin to stop, some stunned speechless.

Y/N’s hands flew to her mouth.

Oh god.

Her stomach dropped as she watched the refs drag Macklin off Hale, who was bleeding from the lip and glaring like he regretted everything.

Macklin didn’t look at the crowd.

Didn’t look at his teammates.

Didn’t look at the refs.

His chest heaved, eyes dark, jaw set like steel.

He looked like a man who would’ve killed if the refs hadn’t intervened.

He looked terrifying.

He looked furious.

He looked—

Hurt.

—

The Penalty Box

The moment the gate slammed behind him in the penalty box, Macklin bent forward, elbows on his knees, breathing hard.

His knuckles were bleeding.

His cheek was swelling.

He didn’t care.

He heard nothing—not the booming announcer, not the ref explaining the penalties, not the roar of the crowd.

The only thing he heard was that voice replaying in his head:

“She looks lonely. Bet she needs someone who can satisfy her.”

He gripped his hair, furious at himself for reacting—furious at Hale for existing—furious at the entire situation.

And then he felt it.

Eyes on him.

He looked up.

Y/N was standing at the glass, palms pressed against it, eyes wide with worry.

Their gazes locked.

Her lips formed the softest, “Are you okay?”

And the anger inside him cracked.

He exhaled. The tension in his shoulders lowered. His hands unclenched.

He nodded, slowly.

She gave him the smallest, gentlest smile.

And that was all he needed.

—

After the Game

The Sharks won.

But when the final buzzer sounded, Macklin didn’t celebrate. He went straight to the locker room, ignoring cameras, reporters, and even teammates who tried to pat him on the back.

He just wanted her.

He needed to see her.

He was still pulling tape off his hands when the door opened.

Y/N slipped inside quietly.

He froze.

She approached him cautiously—like he was a wild animal who hadn’t decided whether to soften or bite.

“Mack,” she whispered.

At the sound of her voice, his entire body uncoiled. He dropped the tape and pulled her into his arms in one sweeping motion, burying his face in her shoulder.

She held him just as tightly.

“I’m okay,” she murmured, hands sliding up his back. “I’m right here.”

He breathed her in like he’d been drowning.

“Did he touch you?” Macklin asked, voice low.

“No,” she said immediately. “Of course not.”

“Did he… say anything to you? Look at you? Come near you?”

“No, Macklin,” she assured, cupping his face. “He didn’t. I promise. I’m fine.”

His jaw flexed. “He talked about you. On the ice. He—he said things he shouldn’t have.”

Her expression darkened. “What did he say?”

Macklin shook his head. “I’m not repeating it.”

She softened. “Then why are you shaking?”

He hadn’t noticed he was.

Y/N gently took his hand—carefully, because his knuckles were bruised and split—and laced her fingers with his.

“You protected me,” she whispered. “That means everything to me. But Macklin… you can’t let someone like him get in your head.”

He looked away, ashamed. “I lost control.”

“You lost control because you care about me.” She stepped closer. “And I love that. But you can’t throw punches every time someone says my name.”

He met her eyes.

“You’re my soft spot,” he said quietly. “Of course I reacted.”

She swallowed. “And you’re mine.”

His breath hitched.

Y/N’s voice softened even more. “Come here.”

He leaned forward—and she kissed him.

Not rushed.

Not hungry.

Soft. Slow. Reassuring.

The kind of kiss that told him he wasn’t wrong. He wasn’t crazy. He wasn’t out of control.

He was loved.

She pulled back, brushing his cheek with her thumb.

“I’m proud of you,” she whispered. “Not for the fight—but for caring so deeply.”

He rested his forehead against hers. “I’d fight anyone for you.”

“I know,” she murmured, laughing quietly. “But maybe don’t tell Coach that.”

He smiled—finally.

—

The Final Moment

As they walked out of the locker room together, Macklin laced his fingers with hers again.

“You really okay?” he asked one more time.

Y/N nodded. “As long as you’re next to me.”

They reached the tunnel entrance.

Cameras waited outside.

Reporters murmured.

Lights flashed.

But Macklin looked only at her.

“I didn’t like hearing another man say your name,” he admitted quietly. “Not like that.”

She touched his cheek tenderly. “Then kiss me before we go out.”

He did—soft, slow, protective.

The kind of kiss that said:

You’re mine.

I’m yours.

And I’ll never let anyone disrespect you again.

Then he pulled back, shoulders squared, fire still burning behind his eyes—but gentler now, controlled.

She smiled. “Ready?”

“With you?” he said. “Always.”

And they stepped out together.

© allaboutmacklin 2025

[vegetarienne71-2]

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“Give him nothing” macklin…honey🤦‍♀️ It’s either PHM, dune, some fucking sci-fi shit. Or rachel reid. Nothing else. Only options.

[bigdickcy]

im sick of them already