A Disturbance in the Force
summary โ ex!rafe back for vengence?
warnings! fem!reader, questionable crossover: ex!rafe x reader x dean di laurentis, fluff, angst, mentions of alcohol, toxic ex!rafe, emotional manipulation, unwanted touching, harassment, confrontation, writing a fic without seeing the full show...
noteโฆ dedicated to my wife ( @severedlamb ) !!!! coming out of the depths of my hibernation to write this. lmk if you prefer the small font/this
masterlist!
The first buzz of your phone barely registered over Hannah's voice drifting through the apartment, warm, rich, and stupidly gorgeous even two glasses of wine in. She was curled up on the armchair, singing along to whatever early-2000s playlist Allie had put on, hitting every note like she was born to.
Allie groaned dramatically from the floor. "Babe, can you not sound like a Grammy winner while I'm trying to paint my toes? Some of us are mere mortals."
Hannah laughed. "Please. There isn't a mortal in this room."
Allie lifted her wine glass, "Here, here."
You clinked glasses.
The apartment smelled like vanilla candles and cheap nail polish remover. Face masks, takeout containers, and half-empty wine glasses cluttered the coffee table. It was warm. Safe. And for the first time all week, you felt the tension leave your body.
Your phone buzzed again beside your thigh.
Then again.
Allie didn't look up from your toes. "If that's Dean, tell him he can wait. It's girls' night."
Hannah reached for your phone automatically, and froze the second she saw the name. Her expression shifted, suddenly wary.
"Who is it?" Allie asked, setting the nail polish down.
"Rafe." Hannah said quietly.
Your stomach tightened instantly. It was embarrassing how fast it happened, like your body remembered him before your brain could catch up.
Allie's head snapped up. "What does he want?"
"I don't know." You tried to sound casual. "Probably nothing." But your chest was already tight. Rafe didn't text casually. Not ever.
You grabbed your phone before Hannah could read anything aloud.
Four messages.
Everything in you went still, the room slightly blurring at the edges, music too loud, and the girls suddenly too far away.
"What?" Allie demanded. "What did he say?"
You handed her the phone silently, eyes fixated on the floor.
Her eyebrows shot up. "Oh, absolutely not."
Hannah took it next, her face softening, but her jaw tightening. "Oh, honey..."
You pulled your knees to your chest, wrapping your arms around yourself. Hannah sat beside you immediately. "Hey. You don't have to feel anything," she said gently. "He's your ex. He doesn't get to pop up whenever he wants and act like you owe him a reaction."
Allie nodded, shuffling closer. "Exactly. And these texts? They're not cute. They're manipulative. It's him doing the same shit he always did."
Your throat tightened.
"He's trying to pull you back into the same cycle," Hannah added. "Where he snaps his fingers and you drop everything."
Allie wrapped an arm around your shoulders. "You spent months walking on eggshells with him. You don't owe him a single thing."
You swallowed hard, staring at the messages again.
"He always does this," you whispered. "He disappears, then comes back like I'm supposed to fix whatever he's feeling."
Hannah shook her head, gentle but firm. "Babe... that's not what a relationship is meant to be. You shouldn't have had to tiptoe around someone you're dating."
Allie nodded, her voice softer than before. "You were always the one calming him down, smoothing shit over, making sure he didn't blow up. That's not love."
Hannah squeezed your hand. "And look at you now. Dean doesn't make you do any of that. He actually shows up, listens. He makes things easier, not harder. You're a team, and you both make each other happy."
Allie rested her head against yours. "He's showing you what it's supposed to feel like. The healthy version. Not whatever you had with Rafe."
Something in your chest cracked open at that, at the truth of it, and the relief of hearing it out loud. The three of you sat there quietly for a moment in your group hug, which was more of a mess of limbs at this point, until Allie suddenly snatched your phone.
"Hey-"
"Nope." She stood up, marched to the kitchen, and dropped it into a drawer. "Phone jail."
"You cannot be serious."
She raised an eyebrow. "You are not spending girls' night spiralling over an man who had twelve business years to get his shit together.
Hannah snorted. "Business years?"
"He's rich. Time moves differently for them".
You let out a sudden laugh.
"There she is," Hannah smiled, pulling you to your feet.
The tension in your chest loosened slightly.
Allie pointed a nail polish brush at you. "You are hot, emotionally available, and dating a man who looks at you like you singlehandedly put the stars in the sky and invented hockey. We are not letting Rafe Cameron ruin your night."
"And," Hannah added carefully, "you need to stop treating his emotions like they're your responsibility."
Your throat tightened again, but this time with something like relief. You nodded. Nope. Not tonight. Your girls were right. You weren't letting him ruin this.
Allie finished your eyeliner, stepping back with the kind of dramatic flourish only she could pull off.
"There," she said. "Sharp enough to kill a man. Or Dean."
You grinned at your reflection, she wasn't wrong. You could never get your eyeliner this perfect without poking yourself in the eye at least once.
Hannah leaned against the bathroom doorframe, holding up three lip glosses. "Pick one, I can't choose."
You and Allie pointed at the middle one at the exact same time.
"That one," you said. "It'll look great on Garrett later."
Hannah's jaw dropped. "Oh you little-"
You squealed and bolted out of the bathroom before she could throw the lip gloss at you, Allie cackling behind you as she grabbed your camera from the counter and snapped a photo of Hannah chasing you down the hallway.
"Oh, our boys are doomed tonight," she said, checking the picture. "They're not gonna know what hit them."
You winked, conspiratorial and smug. "That's the point."
Hannah finally caught up, breathless and laughing. "You two are menaces."
"Stupidly hot menaces," Allie corrected, looping her arm through yours. "And they won't be able to keep their hands off us tonight."
Hannah nodded, eyes sweeping over you with genuine warmth. "Yeah, babe. You look unreal."
You smiled, heat blooming in your chest. "We all do." And you meant it, you were so grateful to have them in your life.
The second you stepped inside, the bass hit your chest.
Someone had put on a playlist that was half 60s classics and alternative pop, and half chaotic EDM, the kind of mix only Garrett would defend with his whole chest. The living room was packed: bodies everywhere, laughter spilling over the music, the air warm and buzzing with cheap beer and cologne.
The man in question was at the beer pong table, shirt already half-open, yelling, "Logan, you can't call bank shot if you didn't mean to do it!"
His eyes lit up the second Hannah walked in.
Logan yelled back, "it still went in, you donkey!"
Tucker was perched on the arm of the sofa, holding his watermelon like a baby, occasionally offering grapes to passing strangers, and shielding his watermelon's 'eyes' from the cannibalism.
Beau was leaning against the kitchen counter, sipping a drink and pretending he wasn't watching two girls flirt with Dean and fail miserably. He perked up when he saw you.
"There she is!" he grinned, pulling you into a hug. "Our lucky charm."
And then Dean saw you. His whole face softening, like he'd been holding his breath and finally let it go.
He crossed the room in three long strides, hands finding your waist like it was instinct, your bodies fitting together like two jigsaw pieces that had been carved for each other.
"Hi, baby," he murmured against your neck, leaving warm, open-mouthed kisses. "Missed you."
You melted into him, giggling as he pulled you closer.
But just for a second.
Because something in you tensed, a bad feeling settling low in your stomach.
Dean felt it immediately. His brows pulled together, concern flickering across his face. "You okay?"
You open your mouth to answer-
Allie grabbed your wrist. "Borrowing her," she announced. "You'll have her back... eventually."
Dean laughed, hands dropping from your waist. "Go. Have fun."
Hannah stole Garrett from behind, dragging him towards the makeshift dance floor. He went willingly, grinning like an idiot.
Allie tugged you into the crowd, Hannah joining you, the three of you loosing yourself in the music.
Dean watched from the kitchen doorway, leaning against the counter, smiling like you were the only thing in the room worth looking at.
Beau elbowed him. "Dude. You're whipped."
Dean didn't even pretend to deny it. "Yeah," he said simply. "I am."
Tucker wandered over, still holding his watermelon. "She looks happy," he said softly. "That's good."
Dean nodded, eyes never leaving you. "That's all I want."
You were mid-spin when your phone buzzed in your pocket.
You froze.
Hannah noticed instantly. "You okay?"
You didn't answer. You didn't have to. Allie saw your face and her expression darkened. "Don't tell me-"
You pulled out your phone.
Three new messages.
Your stomach dropped as your mind shifted into a downwards spiral. You knew something bad was going to happen.
Hannah's hand found your arm. "Hey. Breathe."
Allie's jaw clenched. "He's not here. He's not. He wouldn't-"
But she didn't sound convinced.
You swallowed hard. "I don't want him to show up."
Allie's voice sharpened. "If he does, he's not getting within ten feet of you."
Hannah nodded. "And Dean's here. And the boys. You're safe."
You tried to believe it. You really did. You were heading toward the kitchen to get water when it happened. A hand clamped around your waist. Too tight. Too wrong. It wasn't your Dean, you knew that immediately. Your whole body went cold.
Rafe.
You turned, voice low but steady. "Get your hands off me."
Rafe didn't move. Didn't blink. He didn't even pretend to listen. And that's when it happened.
Dean's head snapped up from across the room, not because he saw Rafe, but because he felt something shift in you. A disturbance in the force. Like something in him was wired to your body.
He didn't move at first. He just stared. His eyes narrowed, his jaw locked, and his shoulders went rigid, every muscle coiled, waiting.
He knew you could handle yourself. He trusted you to handle yourself. He just needed one thing: a signal.
And then you gave it, you'd told Rafe to let go.
He didn't.
That was his first mistake.
Dean pushed off the counter and crossed the room in seconds, not running or shoving, just moving with a purpose that made people step out of his way without realising why.
He stopped beside you, voice low and lethal.
"She shouldn't have to ask twice."
Rafe finally looked at him, and Dean's expression didn't change. No yelling, no theatrics, just a quiet, controlled fury that was somehow worse. "Let. Go. Of her," Dean said.
And this time, it wasn't a request.
Something ugly flickered over Rafe's face, his greasy bangs sticking to his forhead in the heat. "This is between us."
Dean didn't even blink.
"No," he said, calm and deadly. "You're not together. She ended it. You shouldn't even fucking be here."
Rafe scoffed, tightening his grip on your waist like he was proving a point.
"She didn't mean it," he said. "She always comes back."
Your stomach twisted.
Deanโs jaw flexed, once, hard, like he was holding something back with sheer force.
"Let. Go. Of her," he repeated.
Rafe ignored him, eyes locked on you.
"Tell him," he said. "Tell him you didn't mean it. Tell him we're not done."
Your voice shook, but you didn't look away.
"We are done. Let go of me."
Rafe didn't move.
And that was the moment the boys stepped in.
Logan was first, sliding between you and Rafe like a wall. "Nope. Back up."
Garrett moved to Logan's right, arms crossed, expression dark. "She said no. Time to go."
Beau stepped to your side, hand hovering near your back, protective, not possessive. "Don't make this worse for yourself."
And then Tucker. Sweet, motherly Tucker. He set his watermelon down on the table with a soft thud that somehow sounded like a threat.
"Take your hand off her," he said with a force you hadn't been expecting.
Rafe's eyes darted between then, calculating, cornered, desperate. Then he made the mistake of looking at Dean. Dean who hadn't moved an inch but his fists were clenched so tight his tendons stood out in sharp lines, knuckles white, shoulders coiled like a spring. He was quiet. Dangerously quiet.
You reached out and touched his hand, just your fingertips. He stilled instantly. His eyes flickering to you, softening for a fraction of a second. That was all it took.
Rafe saw it, the way Dean listened to you, the way he stopped for you, the way he respected you, and something in his wild eyes cracked, his hand loosening its grip on your waist.
"You're making a mistake," he said to you, voice low and bitter.
Allie scoffed behind you. "She's finally not."
Hannah took your hand gently. "Come on. Let's get some air."
Dean stepped back just enough to let you move, but stayed close, close enough that you could feel the heat of him, close enough that Rafe couldn't take another step without going through him.
Beau leaned in, voice low. "Walk away, man."
Garrett added, "Before this gets ugly."
Logan didn't say anything, he just stared, jaw tight, daring Rafe to try something.
Tucker picked up his watermelon again, but the softness was gone. "You should leave," he said. "Now."
Rafe looked at you one last time, something wildly desperate and broken, then turned and shoved his way through the crowd.
The second he was gone, the tension snapped like a rubber band.
Dean exhaled shakily, running a hand through his hair. "You okay?" he asked you, voice soft again.
You nodded, even though your hands were still shaking.
Hannah squeezed your arm. "Let's go outside."
Dean touched your back gently, "I'm right here." And you believed him.
The cold air hit your cheeks the second Hannah pulled you onto the porch. It was quieter out here, the thump of music muffled under the night sky stretching wide and dark above you.
You wrapped your arms around yourself, breath shaky.
Hannah rubbed your back in slow circles. "You're okay," she murmured. "You're okay."
Allie paced in front of you, "I swear to God, if he had taken one more step-"
"Al," Hannah warned gently.
"No, I mean it." Allie snapped. "He doesn't get to just show up and grab her like that. Who the hell does he think he is?"
You swallowed hard. "I'm sorry."
Both girls froze.
Hannah turned to you immediately. "Hey. No. Don't do that."
Allie crouched in front of you, hands on your knees. "You didn't do anything wrong. He's the one who can't respect a boundary."
The door opened behind you.
Dean stepped out slowly, like he didn't want to startle you, his eyes finding yours instantly. "Hey," he said quietly. "Can Iโฆ?" You nodded before he finished the sentence.
He sat beside you, pulling you gently into his chest.
You let yourself lean into him, your forehead resting against his shoulder. Dean pressed a kiss to the top of your head. "I've got you."
The door swung open again, Garrett stepping out first, hands shoved in his pockets. "You good?" he asked, voice softer than usual, eyes still dark with anger, only softening when Hannah entered his line of sight.
Beau leaned against the railing as Tucker handed you an unopened plastic water bottle. "Say the word and no one will ever find the body."
You let out a small laugh, the first since Rafe grabbed you. Dean smiled at the sound, brushing his thumb along your arm.
"All right," Logan said, clapping his hands once. "We're giving them space."
Garrett nodded. "Yeah. Come on, guys."
Tucker placed his watermelon gently beside you like he was leaving a guardian spirit, then followed the others inside.
Hannah squeezed your shoulder. "We're right inside if you need us."
Allie kissed your cheek. "Just shout."
Then they disappeared through the door, leaving you and Dean alone on the quiet porch.
You sat there in silence for a moment before Dean let out a slow breath, running a hand through his hair. "I almost lost it," he said quietly.
You looked up at him. He wasn't angry now, he just looked... honest.
"I promised you I wouldn't hit him if I ever saw him," he said. "And I meant it. But when he grabbed you like that..." His jaw tightened. "I saw red."
Your heart twisted.
"But then you touched my hand," he continued, voice softer. "And it just... pulled me back. Like everything snapped into place again."
You swallowed. "I didn't want you to get in trouble."
He shook his head. "I donโt care about trouble. I care about you."
Your breath caught.
Dean brushed a strand of hair behind your ear, his thumb lingering against your cheek.
"You don't ever have to be scared of me," he said. "But he made you scared. And I hate that."
You leaned into his touch.
"I wasn't scared of you," you whispered. "I was scared of him... at first. And then you were there, they all were and I felt safe."
Deanโs eyes softened, warm, steady, full of something that made your chest ache. "You are safe," he murmured. "And I'm not going anywhere." He pulled you closer, his forehead resting against yours, and for the first time all night, you believed it.
