#obviously he's been depantsed
Explore tagged Tumblr posts
violent138 · 2 months ago
Text
Sometimes I do pity the GCPD for real. Imagine being on the call to arrest Man-Bat for public indecency.
222 notes · View notes
scottiexmariee · 1 month ago
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
Pants
Pairing: Rafayel x Reader
Word Count: 2k
Warnings: Suggestive content
Masterlist
Prompt: “Explain why a character is not wearing pants in a situation where they definitely should be,”
“Nope. Nuh-uh. You are not depantsing me in the middle of the hallway,”
Note: I discovered this prompt while searching for inspiration and immediately thought of a Rafayel scenario. I laughed so hard writing this. I hope you guys enjoy!
Tumblr media
The last few days had been…interesting, to put it mildly. 
Rafayel was, yet again, MIA in a likely attempt to dodge the launch party for his new exhibit. This wasn't a new thing. You were more likely to see a ghost than to see Rafayel at his own gatherings. It would take more than begging and pleading to get him to make even a brief appearance, and if he did show he would definitely just be complaining the whole time. 
Thomas, who was beyond done with Rafayel’s antics, had cornered you after work recently and all but got on his knees and begged you to intervene. 
“You’re the only one he’ll listen to,” He pleaded, his voice thick with exasperation and distress. “He has to at least make an appearance at this one. The President of a huge art museum overseas is flying over for this. This one is important, (y/n). Please talk to him!” 
Truthfully, you’d rather pull your own teeth out, one at a time, than try to convince Rafayel to do something he didn’t want to do. He was way too dramatic, and he had a nasty habit of being a bratty little fish boy when he was cornered. However, seeing Thomas so desperate stirred enough guilt in your stomach to have you reluctantly agreeing to try, despite the gut feeling that it wouldn’t go well. 
And it didn’t. 
You’d gone to his studio, only to find the door locked. When you retrieved your key ring, you were surprised—and infuriated—to find out that your personal studio key was missing. 
That little urchin stole your key back so you wouldn’t come find him. 
With a very long sigh, you trudged around to the first window you could find. If he thought simply locking the door would deter you, he severely underestimated you. 
Of course, the window was unlocked. He obviously hadn’t thought that far ahead. You climbed in, trying to swallow the burning irritation in your throat as you scanned the studio. At first glance, it appeared to be vacant. 
Your footsteps echoed off the high ceilings as you entered the room further. There was the usual disarray—paintbrushes scattered around, splashes of paint here and there, canvases strewn about—but no sign of Rafayel. 
A pink sheet of paper taped to his bedroom door caught your eye as you continued to sweep the area for him. You approached, only to find the most infuriating note you’d ever seen taped there. 
In Rafayel’s handwriting, three simple words were written boldly on the page, followed by several exclamation points: “NO (Y/N)S ALLOWED!!!!!!”
“You have got to be kidding me,” You grumbled, ignoring the childish note and pushing the door open. “RAFAYEL!! Stop hiding!!” 
Silence. 
You shut your eyes and took a steadying breath, trying to cool your rapidly accelerating frustration. 
If this man was flawless in anything, it would definitely be ‘getting on (y/n)’s nerves.’ 
“You’re going to give Thomas stress wrinkles!” You called, taking another slow step into the bedroom. You strained, trying to listen harder for any faint trace of sound, but there was still nothing. 
This was getting old. Fast. 
Just as you were about to leave to search a different area of the studio, the closet door caught your eye. It was typically left open, but it just so happened to be shut. 
Got you, you little shit. 
You crept up to the door, careful not to accidentally step on or kick anything in your path, simultaneously listening for any stirring or shuffling from the closet. The moment your fingers wrapped around the handle, you yanked the door open, eyes immediately landing on a startled Rafayel. 
“Seriously!?” 
He blinked up at you from his spot on the closet floor, his shock quickly morphing into brattiness. 
“There was a sign,” He said, his tone dripping with sass and irritation as he gestured toward the note he’d left on the bedroom door. 
“What are you, four?” You retorted, wrapping a hand around his arm and attempting to pull him up. “Handwritten notes aren’t laws,” 
He allowed himself to be pulled to his feet, but let out an indignant huff. “They can be,” He argued, pulling his arm away from you and crossing them in front of his chest. “I could call the police, you know. First, you’re trespassing,  and now you’re harassing me,” 
You pinched the bridge of your nose in irritation. 
“Rafayel,” You ground out, forcing yourself to stay calm, “What will it take to get you to go to the launch party?” 
He studied you for a split second before turning his head away. “Nothing, because I’m not going. Nuh-uh. Nope.” 
Your palm met your forehead with an audible slap. 
You were about to strangle him. 
“If you think I won’t drag you there unconscious, you’re wrong,” You warned, placing your hands on your hips. “You’re stressing Thomas out, and now you’re stressing me out. This one is really important, Rafayel. I will owe you one favor, no denials, if you go.” 
He turned his head just enough to cast a lethal side-eye in your general direction. This idiot was pouting. 
You mimicked his posture, folding your arms over your chest and raising an eyebrow at him. “Well?” 
He turned to fully face you. “Two favors,” He said, extending a hand for you to shake on the deal. 
You bit back a sigh and grabbed his hand, sealing the deal. While it did put you in debt, you had succeeded in getting him to go. Thomas, for once, would get to rest easy tonight. 
Rafayel, with a satisfied smirk, released your hand. 
“Favor number one, Miss Bodyguard, you’re coming with me,” 
Tumblr media
As it turned out, the two of you would have been better off if neither of you had attended. 
It started off smoothly. Thomas had been tremendously grateful, nearly collapsing with relief when you showed up with Rafayel in tow. Rafayel mingled for roughly a half hour, and then essentially glued himself to your side when he decided he was done socializing. He’d nod his head in acknowledgment when someone spoke to him, but complain under his breath the second they were out of earshot. 
“Can we leave now? I’m tired.” 
“(Y/N), run away with me. This is awful,” 
“If I wanted to interact with people this much I would have been a cashier,” 
You eventually managed to find a table with some wine on it, and you happily indulged. Rafayel followed suit, retrieving a glass from the table and catching your arm with his free hand. 
“Good idea. Let’s go take a breather,” 
He lead you away from the crowds and the stragglers, all the way to a secluded (and nearly hidden) spot in the back of the building. 
That was when things started to go a little less smoothly. 
Instead of stopping to “take a breather,” Rafayel continued walking….right for the emergency exit. 
“Absolutely not,” You grumbled, digging your heels in and refusing to move any further. Rafayel looked back at you, confusion on his features. 
“I made my appearance,” He began, gesturing toward the door. “I never said my breather was temporary, or inside this building,” 
He turned again, hand still firmly clasped around your arm. 
Without thinking, you yanked your arm back in protest, effectively pulling an unsuspecting Rafayel back toward you. 
To your absolute horror, you heard the unmistakable sloshing of liquid in a glass—the wine in his other hand—and you realized, way too late, that you’d made a mistake. 
Rafayel froze, immediately glancing down at what used to be a completely white outfit. He turned, slowly, and stared at you in disbelief. 
Your eyes nearly popped out of your head. 
You had no idea how expensive that outfit was, but Rafayel wasn’t one to buy cheap clothing. You began to sputter, staring at the ridiculously huge red stain on his pants. 
“I—oh my god. I am so sorry. I can fix this,” 
Rafayel’s brain finally started working again, and his mouth started running. 
“Fix this?! Who are you, Mr. Clean?!” 
“Oh, I’m definitely leaving now,” 
“I knew I should have skipped town,” 
You began to panic. 
You dropped to your knees in front of him, desperately rubbing your sleeve over the stain. It did absolutely nothing. 
“Just…hold on,” You pleaded. 
“For future reference, you pat dry, not rub, you menace,” Rafayel sneered. “And that isn’t working. Let’s just get out of here—“ 
“Wait! A sink!” You called, eyes landing on sign for the bathrooms down the hall. “Rafayel, take these off,”
His eyes nearly popped out of his head. 
“What?!” 
Your fingers found the button of his pants, unfastening it before he could protest. 
“Most people would consider taking me out to dinner first,” He complained, staring at you incredulously.
“Shut up,” You snapped, tugging down his waistband. Thank god he wasn’t commando. When Rafayel realized you were serious, he caught one of your wrists, his eyes wide with panic. 
“Nope. Nuh-uh. You are not depantsing me in the middle of the hallway,” His other hand fumbled with his waistband, battling to pull his pants back up against your resistance. 
“Stop it! I said I can fix this! I can get this stain out if I do it now!” You cried out, swatting his hand away and fighting for control of his pants. 
“The one time you actually want me out of my pants, and it’s because of a stain?” He placed his hand on your head, desperately trying to push you away from his legs. 
You ignored his comment and the warmth of a blush creeping into your cheeks, the hand on your head doing nothing to deter you from your mission. Just as you thought you were making progress, a voice rang out from around the corner. 
“Rafayel? (Y/N)? Are you guys back here? It’s almost time for—“ 
Thomas rounded the corner, immediately stopping dead in his tracks at the sight in front of him. His mouth hung open, caught on the sentence he didn’t get to finish. His eyes flitted between you and Rafayel, and it was only then that you realized how horrible this actually looked. 
Rafayel, completely frozen, hand on your head, his pants halfway down his thighs. 
You, staring at Thomas like a deer caught in headlights, on your knees in front of Rafayel, quite literally halfway through the process of pulling his pants down. 
“This is why we should have just left!” Rafayel hissed. 
“This….looks way worse than it is,” You explained, rising from your knees and holding your hands up in a placating gesture. 
Thomas, bless his heart, looked like he was on the verge of a mental breakdown as he experienced several different emotions. 
Shock. Confusion. Disbelief. Exasperation. 
“I spilled wine on him!” You squeaked, wildly gesturing at Rafayel’s pants as he pulled them up. Thomas seemed to untense slightly as his eyes landed on the huge wine stain. “I was trying to fix it, but he was trying to leave. I swear,” 
“Yeah, so she manhandled me and tried to rip my pants off in the hallway,” Rafayel added bitterly. You shot him a glare. 
Thomas was silent for a long moment. After what seemed like several minutes, but was likely just a few seconds, he rubbed his forehead and sighed. 
“I have an extra pair of pants in the car,” He said, turning on his heel. “Stay.”
Thanks to Thomas, the situation was quickly rectified before anyone else saw something they shouldn’t have. 
Rafayel reluctantly stayed a bit longer, although the two of you were unable to look each other in the eye for the remainder of your visit. 
When the two of you were finally granted permission to leave by Thomas, you wasted no time. 
You climbed into Rafayel’s passenger seat, eyes fixed on the dashboard ahead of you. 
He started the car wordlessly, but you could feel him sending an occasional glance your way. 
After several minutes of silent driving, he finally spoke. 
“(Y/N),” 
You turned your head to look at him. “Yeah?”
Though his expression was neutral, you could see amusement twinkling in his eyes. 
“Next time you try to rip my pants off, can you make sure we aren’t in public?”
Tumblr media
I truly hope you enjoyed reading this as much as I enjoyed writing it <3
174 notes · View notes