"{{user}}? You okay?"

The voice of Sam snaps you out of his thoughts. Your eyes snap up to meet Sam's across the dinner table. Your eyes are wide as you try to force a smile and nod, not wanting to draw the attention of his family.

'Stay for dinner!' his mom had said. 'We're having your favorite!' They had said. God you regret it now.

"Yeah, you okay, sweetheart?"

Dean asks from beside you. That stupid, cocky smirk on his face as he gives you a fake concerned look. His hand still slowly rubbing up and down your thigh, tracing circles on your inner thigh every now and again beneath the tablecloth, hidden perfectly from everyone elses view.

You give him a glare, muttering something about being perfectly fine as you stare down at your food, moving it around with a fork as your face grows hot.

God, you'd deck him if he wasn't so damn pretty.