#I am so close to 1.6k wtf

[gurugirl]

STOPPPPP IT THE SHORTS ARE SO SHORT! WTF THE TIGER IS SHOWING! OMG Y/N WOULD GO CRAZYYYYYYY OVER IT. okok so maybe y/n gets jealous that Harry was wearing such short shorts in public that she ends up getting moody and Harry makes it up to her by letting her ride his thigh and fucks her saying stuff like “y’know this cock belongs to you darling” and stuff 😩😩

HAPPY FRIDAY YOU GUYS!!!

PLEASE I've been looking at these pics all day. What is this man thinking????????? I cannot handle him. He's such a tease. And I wrote this way too fast. Sorry if it sucks but this picture deserves a smut piece written about it. He's too fucking hot.

1.6k words

warning: mostly plotless smut, not proofread whatsoever

Y/n was used to Harry being ogled. Always the hottest guy in the room with the most charisma and charm. Everyone flocked to him and everyone's eyes always followed him. He was magnetic. And he knew it too.

As much as she realized she had nothing to worry about she still got jealous of the attention he constantly got. He didn't even need to try. He could be wearing a backwards baseball cap and loose jeans with a t-shirt and people would still be after her man.

And today, their little break away from the business of life led them to a relaxing little outing in the Italian sun. Before they'd even left the villa she eyed his short green trunks and how his fit torso was in full view, the long sleeved shirt draped over his shoulders, totally unbuttoned.

Biting her tongue, she figured she was being silly wishing he'd cover up a bit. She certainly wouldn't take well to him telling her to cover up, not that he'd ever.

But once they were on the beach and about to board their private yacht she did notice women and men alike watching him. His bronzed chiseled abs and pecs peeking out from the shirt, and of course he'd tucked his shorts up a bit to protect the mesh lining from chafing this inner thighs (he always did that because he said his package was too large to sit comfortably in the lining and it gave him a little extra support). His strong thighs on full view holding his tall frame upright as he carried both of their bags.

"Come on," he held his hand out to her as he helped her up into the boat safely.

He could tell she was a little pouty. He knew her too well. Knew he was being eye fucked by half the beach as they walked to the yacht they'd rented for the afternoon.

"What's wrong, love?" He grinned as he pulled at the strap of her bathing suit teasingly.

"Nothing. Just looking forward to getting out onto the ocean."

Harry crowded her space, stepping in front of her so she couldn't look at anything but him, "Yeah? Is that it? You seem to have been awfully quiet all morning. Nothing else you want to talk about?"

She looked up at him and the smirk he wore told her that he knew just what she was pouting about. But she just shook her head and crossed her arms, "Nope."

The low chuckle that fell from his chest as he pushed her arms down and grasped her wrists made her cheeks warm up, "Liar. You're jealous."

Harry kind of liked that she got jealous. Because in all truth, he'd get jealous when anyone would look at her just the same.

"Am not."

Harry walked her backward as the driver of the yacht began to move the boat out to sea, "Let's go down into the suite for a bit. Need to show you something," he gestured toward the door that lead to the stairs to get to the lower level.

She huffed as she carefully stepped down into the furnished room. It was small but there was a counter with a TV above it, a mini bar with fridge, a bathroom, a sitting area and a bed in the center.

Harry closed and locked the door before grasping Y/n's arms and pushing her toward the bed, pressing his chest into her back and speaking into her ear in a dark baritone, "Let's figure out what's got you so moody. Maybe I can help."

She tried to keep her composure but his voice and his skin and his hands always melted her poise.

When he felt her relax into his hold he smiled and kissed the back of her neck, bringing her into the bed with him, "There we go."

Y/n climbed into the middle of the bed and sat on her bottom as Harry spread out next to her, "Hop on. Let's talk."

She looked down at his lap and back into his eyes. She knew his plan. It always worked.

Biting the inside of her cheek she quietly moved to straddle his lap but he stopped her from fully spanning his thighs with hers, "Just sit on the tiger for a minute."

She looked up at him like he was crazy but settled herself right over his thigh, the crotch of her swimsuit right on top of the inked tiger on his strong thigh.

"Good girl. See that," he looked down to how she was sitting on him, "No one else gets to do that. Just cause they can see it doesn't mean they can fuck themselves on me like this. Know you like that, don't you?"

She nodded bit her bottom lip.

"That's right." Harry put his hands at her hips and pulled her up and then pushed her back a bit, "Let's see you do it. Show me who this belongs to."

Once Harry got her momentum going she rocked over his taut, muscular thigh gently. Harry kissed her softly and moaned, "See? What they don't know is that this tiger gets his face fucked by the prettiest little pussy. Gets to have your scent all over it. Cause you own it. Don't you, love?"

"Yes." She squeaked pathetically.

She was already so turned on and it wasn't because of the way she was rubbing her cloth-covered clit over his thigh. It was the way he was speaking to her. She could feel herself getting wet slowly and the faster she rocked she noticed Harry's large bulge under his short green trunks.

"Getting him coated, love. Good job, honey. You need a little more? Want to come?"

"Y- yes. I do, Harry..." She lowered her hand from his shoulder to cup his thickened cock, "want this."

"Mmm... want my cock? Want to fuck yourself on my cock? Fuck what's yours?"

She nodded and the look in his eyes turned quickly from soft green to dark and lusty, "Take your bottoms off right now."

She quickly got up to her knees and pulled her swim bottoms down her legs as Harry pulled his green trunks off, his cock bobbing heavily as he leaned his back into the headboard.

She climbed after him, desperate to have him inside of her and she whined as she grasped him and placed his hot, thick crown at her entrance. She paused as she looked him in the eyes but Harry needed her just as much. He put his hands at her waist and pushed her down onto him, groaning lowly at the relief.

"Fuck. This cock is all yours, Y/n. Every bit of me is all yours, darling."

She keened as she felt him inside her guts so deep it ached.

Slowly she began rolling her hips back and forth, grinding her pussy down over him, keeping her clit satisfyingly smeared against his pelivs.

"It's mine," she whined as she put her hands on his shoulders and rocked quickly, the sound of her wet pussy sucking his cock in deep sounded between them.

"Yes it is. Fuck it like you mean it, Y/n. Want to see you own it. Need you to milk me dry."

Y/n gasped when Harry put his hands under her thighs and helped her ride him properly. It was always a task to fuck him this way but so worth the view and the orgasm.

She wanted to make him come so hard. Make him dizzy and mushy and drain his balls of everything he had. She wanted his come inside of her where it belonged. Because it was hers. No one could have Harry in this way. He was her man.

"Yes, baby. Riding me so good. Fuck yourself on me deep, honey. Make yourself come on me baby. Take what's yours, Y/n."

Her chest was getting hot and her thighs were burning as their wet skin slopped together each time she dropped down onto his cock, tucking him deep inside of her so his balls were up against her ass.

Looking down between their bodies it was a sticky, creamy mess. The trimmed hair at the base of Harry's shaft was white with cream and his girthy cock was stretching her out so beautifully.

"Harry! Oh my god. I'm gonna come!"

"Yeah?" Harry widened his thighs and bent his knees the slightest bit so he could take her over the edge and fuck into her so deep she could feel his come in her womb. The moment he began to move his hips into her she yelped and gasped and her fingers dug into his shoulders sharply, "Who's cock is this, baby? Tell me who it belongs to, honey," his words were grunted.

"It's mine! You're mine, Harry!" Her world was spinning as she jolted up each time he punched into her from his position below. His fingers dug into her ass and he clenched his teeth as he began to throb.

"S'right. This cock is yours. I'm yours, Y/n. Fucking gonna make me come aren't you, baby?"

She nodded and then her mouth dropped open and she grew silent as her orgasm washed over her body. Her ears rang as she pulsed over his cock.

Harry choked out a loud moan and filled her to the brim with himself as he stilled his hips and his thigh trembled at the exertion.

Gasps and soft inhaled breaths were stifled when Y/n pushed her lips to his and pressed her chest into his tightly, her arms wrapping around him.

Harry grunted a laugh and pinched her bottom and she jumped.

"Told you I could help. All better now?" Harry cooed at his sweet girl.

Pulling back to look at him she smiled, "All better now."

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[catnippackets]

new video out on my youtube channel where you get to see my lovely face again

#ramblings #I am so close to 1.6k wtf

[poptod]

Hi you beautiful person! If you’re still taking requests then I would like to request for Ahkmenrah! Sorry if this is too long but how about y/n is a cat burglar and breaks into the museum to steal sum shit (they notice the lights on beforehand but thought that it was just the night guard). But then they notice that there’s, like, A LOT of “people” still present at the museum. They already took a few things so they go to hide in the Egypt exhibit till the coast is clear but then when they notice that the sarcophagus is wide open and the mummy isn’t there they get rly freaked out and about to leave the exhibit but run into Ahk and he’s rly confused and notices that they’re a thief and even tho he was raised to be cruel to thieves he felt rly drawn and hypnotized by y/n (it was love at first sight for him). He simps so hard that he lets them go only if they leave the stuff they tried to steal but they refuse to leave empty handed so Ahk simps again and gives them one of his pieces of jewelry to have. They’re confused but go with it then dip through the window and Ahk watches them escape into the night from the window with a dreamy look on his face. And Larry’s behind him like “wtf just happened?” Sorry again if that was too long! Please take as much time as you need if you decide to do this <3

notes: anon. ANON. i love you and i love this idea, idk why i never thought of this but i fucking adore it thank you WC: 1.6k

+

Grappling hooks––the fevered dream of a madman that worked only partway in theory, and not at all in practice. Still, you liked the look of them, and kept one seated on your belt while you used a more practical means of breaking and entering.

Very rarely did you ever break into buildings who still had their lights on. For this you would have to make an exception; the museum, which you had scouted out every day for two weeks, always had its' lights on. That would not deter you. American and British museums were essentially always corrupt in some way, unwilling to return the stolen artifacts of foreign countries. You kept that at the forefront of your mind, a little smidgen of motivation, as you jammed the window lock open.

The wind brushing against your dark coat vanished as you entered, sudden air conditioning bringing the temperature to a more pleasant 70 degrees. Hanging off the side of a building with no leverage but a small, outer windowsill had left your fingers numb, joints aching with built up pressure. You shook them out, clicking your pocket knife shut and stuffing it in one of your pockets.

For a minute you remained in the shadowed hallway, listening closely to the sound of footsteps, and watching carefully the shadows casted on the wall to your right. Your brow furrowed––that couldn't be right. The only person who was supposed to be in the museum was the night guard, which last you checked there was only one of them, and maybe the director. You could hear the footsteps of a whole crowd, the murmuring hum of distant conversation, and the vibrating beats of music coming through stereo speakers.

Taking a tentative step forward, you kept your hand poised over your knife just in case. As many times as you've done this, you can't recall any time that you've robbed a place while the owners were still inside.

You came to find out about two minutes later that while the owners are in fact inside, it wasn't them making the noise. Peering out behind the wall, you could see far off the balcony, into the entrance of the museum where a congregation had gathered. It's not... normal, though. None of them are wearing normal clothes. Actually, it looked more like they stole all the exhibits clothes, which would partly explain why all the exhibits were empty.

"This is not normal," you mumbled beneath your breath to yourself, mimicking Harry Potter's voice. Third movie.

You quickly retraced your steps, returning to the window you crawled into. Once more you went through the hallway, double checking everything, and picking up what valuables you could find in the vacant rooms. The Greek section payed off, as did the Chinese, but before you could move to the next era the night guard came walking down the hallway with a group of people in tow. He doesn't seem all that bothered by the fact that none of the exhibits are there, and that all of his friends are wearing the clothes of the exhibits.

And then you saw it.

A monster of entirely bone, whose teeth bared constantly in sharp, jagged lines. The backbones creaked and cracked against each other when its' neck moved, pulling its' heavy skull to watch the people with empty eye sockets.

Nope. Nope, nope, nope.

Where was the exit? You'd gone down two flights of stairs, up one, and down one, but you couldn't remember the order. There had to be an exit on this floor. When the group passed by you, you darted in the opposite direction, paying no attention to the artifacts as the walls blurred around you.

Your breath began to catch up with you soon, heaving your chest up and down as your legs burned. Before your body could give out on you, you slid into the next hallway, ducking behind one of the massive pillars and finally collapsing. Three minutes passed before you could breathe normally. Only then, with most of your wits back about you, did you notice the hieroglyphs your nails dug desperately into on the pillar.

More footsteps outside the long, Egyptian hallway sent you padding deeper in, till you found yourself bumping against the open glass case around a golden casket. The face, which you would've expected to be on the head, was instead cast aside as the top was open. Inside––nothing. Scraps of linen and spells written in an incomprehensible language.

"What the fuuuuck," you whispered to yourself. "What the fuuuuck..."

What the hell is going on h-

Something bumped against your back, sending you stumbling forward before you could just barely stabilize yourself. You whipped around, eyes wide as you came face to face with a man bearing an outrageously golden crown, and donned entirely in Egyptian cloth.

Entirely dumbstruck, your mouth hung open, and you said nothing as the man stared at you in the same bewilderment.

"Why do you have that?" He suddenly asked, eyes falling to the gold and lapis necklace dangling out of your bag.

You stuffed it back inside and said, "mother's."

"Yes," he chuckled, "my mother's. I was buried with that and I'd rather appreciate it if you gave it back."

The narrowing of your eyes gave away what you tried your best to keep hidden––the numerous treasures concealed in your duffel bag.

"You're robbing us, aren't you?"

You said nothing.

"Why are you stealing our belongings?"

"Why are you acting like they belong to you?" You finally replied. "They belonged to people long dead. Just because you're wearing the robes doesn't make you the Pharaoh, and – and why the fuck are you dressed in Egyptian clothes?"

"Well I was, again, buried in this. It's this or the linen and the linen reveals a little more than people would probably like. My name is Ahkmenrah," he bowed slightly, taking your gloved hand and kissing the back of it, "the Pharaoh from the sarcophagus."

"You really expect me to believe that?"

"Doesn't matter what you believe. What matters is that you return what you've stolen," he said, straightening himself out and outstretching his hand. As if you'd return what you've taken.

He waited for a good minute, and when you didn't relent, his expression grew weary.

"Do you want me to get the night guard?"

"No," you said quickly, eyes darting up in panic.

"I will let you go, free of punishment, if you return what you've taken and leave. Come back when you're not looking to steal."

"I am not leaving here empty-handed," you hissed, stepping closer to get up in his face. To your surprise (though you didn't dare show your surprise on your face) a blush began to fill his cheeks.

"I... uh.. y - oh Gods," he grumbled, shaky eyes darting all across your face but never meeting your gaze. "Fine. Fine, you – take this. If you return the other things you can take this."

He stayed rooted to the spot, but bent to pull at his skirt. At first you almost stopped him, already convinced he was about to strip down, but when he ripped at the silk your mouth hung open in silence.

"Ever learn about the history of textiles?" He asked you as he handed you the long strip of golden fabric.

You shook your head no. The cloth barely weighed anything, softer than anything you'd touched, and nearly thin enough to see through it.

"Much Egyptian and Arabic fabric is revered for the talents your people have lost to time. It's a special recipe you cannot replicate with any modern tool. This'll bring you a fortune if you find the right person," he said, cocking his head to the side as he watched you carefully. "It's gold sewn into silk."

Only a moment of thought passed before you dropped your bag, kneeling in front of the Pharaoh and pulling at the zipper. His sandals slid away from you as he gave you space, and soon you were pulling out different necklaces and combs, setting them on the floor in front of him in silence.

"I don't know where the exit is," you mumbled as you carefully pocketed the silk, moving back to your feet.

"How did you get in?"

"Through the window."

"... ah. I'll show you to one of them, then."

He snuck you around the museum, showed you how to avoid the crowds, and at each turn you memorized the path. If you ever wanted to come back for anything else, you would need to know such tactics. Soon enough he was showing you to a window a story off the ground, and though he was hesitant to allow you to leave out it, you informed him you quite adept at climbing walls.

Clambering out the window, you paused with your foot notched into a dip in the outer wall.

"Why are you helping me like this? You didn't have to do that," you asked, and though it wasn't a question you had been thinking of, there was a very sudden urge within you to have it answered. "Aren't you a Pharaoh? They hate thieves, right?"

"I.. um, well, there's... I suppose – you caught me in a good mood," he very obviously lied. You raised a single brow questioningly, but made no further attempt to pull the truth out of him.

Instead, you ducked out the window, falling quickly into the snow and rushing off into the dark of night. A moment later he heard the revving of a car, and then the squealing of tires sliding against the pavement roads. Ahk sighed softly, the tension in his chest giving way as he rested his elbow on the window's sill, his palm pushing against his blushing cheek.

"What the fuck was that about?" Larry asked from behind him. His dreamy expression immediately gave way to embarrassment.

"Nothing," he quickly insisted. "Just... being a little softhearted."

#ahkmenrah x reader #Ahkmenrah #Night at the Museum #rami malek

[bohemian-napsodyy]

Here For You

Request: can you do a fluff where Elliot ends up getting drunk out of stress and has a hangover the next day and the reader nurses him? -- requested by anon

Word Count: 1.6k

Warnings: I feel like Elliot and his not-so-great coping habits are a warning in and of themselves -- man i really just wanna hug him, dear god

there’s also mentions of death, but it does not involve/concern Elliot or the reader directly. just wanted to put that out there.

also some swears

A/N:  I’ve only seen season 1 of Mr. Robot so far, so if there’s bits where you’re like ‘wtf Elliot isn’t like this anymore???’, that’s probably why 😂I’m gonna catch up before they air season 4, I promise!!  at least this way you know there’s almost no spoilers lol

(I also wrote this as Elliot x female reader, I hope that’s ok! I try my best to keep everything gender neutral but it didn’t really work as well for this one :/ 

You hadn’t heard from Elliot in what felt like years to you. It was normal for him to go a few days without replying, but normally he wouldn’t wait more than five days before sending at least a one word response to let you know he was still doing okay. 

So when your phone buzzed at 1 AM on the eighth day, you almost flung yourself to the other side of your bed to reach your phone. Your features immediately morphing into a frown as you squinted at the garbled nonsense Elliot had sent you:

I think Flipper might be part cat is that even possible Y/N i keep looking at her and her ears just seem pointier i need your help i can’t decide is this thing a dog or a cat??? have i owned a cat this entire time??/????/

Your head spun as you attempted to decipher his message. The sleep that was clouding your mind faded quickly when you re-read Elliot’s text for the fifth time, before feeling your heart sink deep down into your chest. Fast. The feeling settled in the pit of your stomach like a heavy rock.

Was he drunk?

You sighed in disappointment as your gaze moved to the tiny photo that you had set as his contact picture on your phone. It was when you spent the summer together on Coney Island. He didn’t want to go, but he saw how eager you were to bring him along. He only went because of you, he said, but the small smile on his face as well as the way his eyes lit up more than normal in the photo gave away everything. 

But now it seemed that happiness you brought into Elliot’s life was gone just as quickly as it came. 

Elliot, are you okay?

You knew it was a stupid thing to ask, especially since you already knew that he was very drunk. But a part of you was hoping you were just overreacting. You were hoping Elliot would text back and reply that his mind was just wandering once more.

Your heartbeat picked up when you saw he was typing a reply. Two minutes went by, and he was still typing. 

That was enough of an answer for you.

You trudged out of bed and after wiping the sleep from your eyes, you threw on your sweatshirt that you had lazily thrown on the floor the previous night. You had to go over to check on Elliot. Something was definitely wrong. 

Just as you locked the door behind you, your phone let out a whistle as Elliot finally texted back. Walking down the hall towards the main door of your building, you glanced at your phone.

yEssS, of course i’m fin Y/N my head is spinning this is realy fuN

You shook your head as you typed back a response, all the while going through various scenarios of what might’ve caused him to get into this situation in the first place. 

Give me five minutes, you typed back. I’m on my way Elliot. Please unlock your door for me, okay?

Your phone buzzed almost immediately after you hit send.

okayuyuyyy

You were underestimating things when saying Elliot looked like shit.

You found him lying on the floor on his stomach, watching Flipper with a vacant stare of admiration as she paced around him nervously. She seemed as worried about him as you felt.

“Elliot,” you called out gently as you shut his apartment door behind him. “What’s going on?”

He looked up at you, and your heart stopped. His eyes were puffy and red, as if he had been crying a while earlier. His features morphed into a shaky smile as you set down your bag and sat down across from him on the floor.

“I unlocked the door for you,” Elliot replied almost unintelligibly. You could barely understand him, he was slurring his words so badly. “So that you could come in.”

“I know,” you said quietly, nodding as you bit your lip. You slowly moved closer to Elliot and gently reached out towards his cheek. It was your silent way of asking his permission to touch him.

He smushed the side of his face against your hand, almost like a little dog begging for attention. You noticed the way his features crumpled for just a moment before the small smile he wore when you entered his apartment returned.

“Elliot, what happened?” You asked, fighting the tremble in your voice as your gaze landed on the pile of empty liquor bottles on the table. “What did you do?”

He shook his head like a child, and pushed himself onto his knees only to crawl over to you and throw his arms rather sloppily around you. He leaned his forehead against your shoulder with a thunk.

“I’m tired.” He mumbled into your sweatshirt. You couldn’t ignore the way one of his hands reached up and started lazily running through your hair. “I want to sleep, Y/N, but I can’t.”

“Why not?” You asked, returning his embrace tightly. “What happened, El?”

You heard Elliot inhale shakily, the hand on your back grabbing a fistful of fabric from your sweatshirt.

“It’s okay,” you reassured him. You began to trace tiny circles on his back. “I’m here. I’m real.”

It was like those words suddenly pushed everything over the edge. In the blink of an eye, Elliot was trembling against you as he began to sob.

“Shayla’s gone,” you managed to catch him utter thickly through his tears, as well as through the alcohol. “She’s gone, Y/N.”

You held Elliot tighter as everything slowly pieced itself together in your mind.

That’s why Elliot had suddenly stopped contact with you for a while. That’s why he was drunk out of his mind right now.

Today would have marked one year since Shayla died.

“Oh Elliot,” you mumbled, stroking his hair gently as you let him cry sloppily into your shoulder. “It’s alright. Let it out. You’re safe, you’re okay.”

Your arms were cramping up from hugging him for so long, but you refused to let go. For Elliot. He needed you right now. 

When his sobs finally subsided, you gave him a gentle smile and wiped his tears off his cheeks with your thumb.

“Why don’t you try and sleep now?” You encouraged gently, feeling more like a parent than Elliot’s best friend. You didn’t mind though, you knew he needed someone to be there for him in moments like these. “I’ll stay with you, El. I promise.”

Elliot nodded, although it was looked like more of a general shake of his head. Looping an arm around his shoulders, you helped him stand up and walked with him over to his bed. Elliot dropped unceremoniously onto the sheets, and you let out a yelp of surprise as he tugged you down with him.

“Please don’t leave,” he slurred, his arms immediately wrapping around you. “Everyone else did. I don’t want you to go.”

You shook your head as you pulled the blanket tight around Elliot and yourself. He was already falling asleep.

“I’m not going anywhere,” you whispered. “I’ll stay as long as you need me to.”

You awaited some sort of reply, anything really, but Elliot had already fallen asleep.

Hello again. You’re finally back. I wish you would’ve given me some sort of warning before you left. But then again, no one ever does, so I shouldn’t be so surprised. 

Look, you have to tell me. 

What happened last night?

Why is Y/N here? I thought I told you I was going to stop talking to everyone who got too close. Why didn’t you try and stop me? Fuck.

You know something I don’t. You know what happened. Tell me!

Fine. I’ll figure it out myself. You never say anything anyways, but I know you know. You just like watching me suffer, don’t you?

Shit, my head. Just how drunk did I get last night? I can’t remember a thing, oh god. This is bad. I lost control again, didn’t I?

Oh fuck, Y/N knows I’m awake. I’m going to have to explain why I stopped talking to her, I’m going to have to find a way to justify shutting off why I got myself into the mess I did last night. I’m going to fuck up her entire day if I just bring up Shayla. I need a better excuse, and fast.

You have to help me. What do I do?

...oh.

Y/N isn’t talking to me. But... she’s got that look. She knows, just like you.

Shit, shit, shit, she’s touching me. She’s running her hand through my hair. Why isn’t she mad at me? She should be mad. I don’t understand.

I should be moving away from her touch. I told you I wasn’t going to let her touch me anymore. I promised you I would stop communicating with her. It was the best way to protect her from myself. 

But I want to move closer to her now, not away. Fuck. 

She makes me feel so safe. Warm, even. Something keeps telling me I don’t need to explain anything to her. She’s not upset at all. I can see it in her eyes. 

You have to tell me what I did. What could I have done that brought Y/N here, that got her acting like this? She understands, she’s holding me so close. But why? What did I do to deserve this?

Fine. I don’t need you anyway. I have Y/N.

At least I know she won’t leave me. She is here for me.

Unlike you.

#elliot alderson #elliot alderson x reader #elliot alderson imagine #elliot alderson oneshot #mr robot #mr robot x reader #rami malek #rami malek x reader #rami malek imagine #rami malek oneshot #bohemian rhapsody #queen #freddie mercury