TW: graphic smut, minors dni

The cramp comes on so suddenly that Rose doesn't have time to save the weighted bar she's working out with. Instead it slips from her grasp and crashes to the ground as her right leg buckles, causing Dimitri to toss his book to the side and jump to his feet. He's by her side in an instant, helping to ease her on to the mat as she hisses out curses. For the first time in all the months he's spent mentoring her Dimitri doesn't chastise her.

"Cramp?" he asks, as she flops backwards and throws an arm over her face. "Just focus on breathing," he coaches, draping her leg over his lap so he can massage her lower calf. It's not the first time he's helped her work through a cramp and the familiar movements of his hands on her feel reassuring.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck," she groans.

Dimitri digs his fingers into the muscle and she has to resist the urge to kick him, knowing that he's just trying to make her feel better.

"You're very tight," Dimitri comments after a few minutes of silence, and even though Rose doesn't lift her head she can hear the frown in his voice. He's worked his way up her calf and has reached the muscles around her knee, not seeming to have any inclination to stop even though the pain is starting to recede in her leg. "Have you been stretching properly?" he asks.

"Yes, Dimitri," Rose sighs, having suffered enough lectures from him to know the dangers of not warming up and down properly. She doesn't remove her arm, not wanting to think about what has her all locked up.

"So?" he prompts, shifting closer so he can continue up her thigh. "Can you think of any reason why you would be so tight? Maybe something stressful or frustrating?"

"Huh, frustrating would certainly be the word for it." Rose finally moves her arm away from her face, but stares up at the ceiling of the gym, avoiding his gaze.

"Rose," he prompts again, and she knows by his tone that he's not going to drop it until he tells her.

"It's the bond with Lissa."

"Is there something wrong?" he asks quickly.

"No," she assures him. "Not with the bond. And definitely not with Lissa."

He's silent and he can just imagine the arch of his eyebrow, silently asking her to continue.

"Things are going great with Lissa, especially with Christian. They've been spending a lot of time together," she adds, begging Dimitri to understand but he doesn't respond. She sighs and draws herself up on her elbows so she can look at him. "A lot of time together. At night," she says, staring dead into his eyes.

"Oh," he finally says.

"Yeah," she answers, slumping back down on the mat. "So, I'm getting a lot of it mentally but with none of the… physical release. Which I imagine has me wound a little tight."

"Right," Dimitri says, resuming his massage. "I imagine that would be frustrating…" he trails off and it feels like something changes in the air between them. Rose is suddenly aware of how high his hands are on her thigh, how he would only have to shift minutely over and he'd be right where she wants him.

Rose licks her lips and replies helplessly, "Very frustrating."

"And distracting," he adds, and she can feel his gaze, insistent on her face. "We can't have you distracted," he murmurs, hand finally finding the apex of her thighs. He doesn't press, just cups her gently, a suggestion of what this could turn into it. "If you want my help, that is?"

"Oh fuck," Rose gasps, eyes fluttering shut and her hips shift helplessly against his hand. "Please, Dimitri."

It's apparently all he needs because his hands leave her, but only for long enough to sneak up to the waistband of her leggings and dip inside. Then it's only a matter of moments before he's brushing two long fingers against her dripping core.

"So ready for me already," he whispers into her ear and distantly Rose wonders when he got so close to her. "How long have you been aching for it?"

Rose can't do anything but writhe against the mat as he ever so slowly enters her, drawing his fingers back and plunging them in again. The sensations only heighten when Dimitri ducks his head to start pressing long kisses to her jaw, down her throat, the tops of her breasts.

"That's it," Dimitri praises her quietly as her hips hitch against his hand. "Just like that."

Rose whines at that, high and needy, and somehow one of her hands finds Dimitri biceps, needing to dig her nails into something solid.

"Dimitri," she moans, and she hears him chuckle.

"Yeah?"

But she has nothing else to say. Not when it feels like every nerve of her body is lighting up, surging and cresting in one perfect wave. He must know how close she is because his thumb has dropped to press and rub insistently at the bundle of nerves there. She's chanting his name by now, begging him to never stop touching her like that, and he's murmuring in her ear, words indistinguishable in her current state, and she's so close, the first vestiges of her climax ripping through her when-

-when she wakes, panting and sweating alone in her bed, core clenching painfully around nothing. Rose sits bolt upright, hips shifting subconsciously against her sheets as she looks around her dark dorm room, half expecting Dimitri to appear.

Finally it occurs to her addled brain that she's all alone and she thuds back against her pillows, voice exploding into the empty room. "Son of a bitch!"

I'm so sorry, I am not a good smut writer but this idea would not leave me alone. I hope you don't hate it and please don't flame me if you do lmao. Thanks for all the reviews and favourites x