Crushing Hard, Lifting Heavy Pt. 3 (FINAL)
pairing: gymtrainer! jeno x afab!reader
genre: little fic (based on this requested moodboard)
tags: kinda suggestive, Junni being judgemental, very vanilla, FLUFF, fem reader but it doesnt specify how she looks like.
Y/n had spent the entire afternoon in front of her closet, as if her whole life depended on what she chose to wear. The mirror had turned into a ruthless judge, reflecting back her uncertainty wrapped in failed attempts: a dress that clung too tightly and felt more like a costume than a choice, a pair of pants that screamed “office meeting” instead of “first date,” and a blouse that made her look as if she had borrowed something from her grandmother’s wardrobe. Every time she thought she had found the right option, she would see herself in the mirror, hesitate, and then toss it onto the ever-growing pile of discarded clothes on the floor.
Her bedroom looked like a battlefield. Wrinkled shirts, mismatched shoes, scarves she hadn’t touched in years—it was chaos, a reflection of her nerves. She pressed her palms against her face, sighing into the emptiness of the room.
“This is ridiculous…” she muttered, her voice muffled as she let herself fall back onto the bed. The mattress dipped beneath her weight, the comfort of it almost tempting her to call the whole thing off, to cancel with a lame excuse and stay home in pajamas with Junni, her dog, for company. But the thought of Jeno waiting—Jeno actually wanting to take her out—was enough to make her shoot upright again.
This wasn’t just another date. It wasn’t some stranger from a friend group or a face from a dating app. This was Jeno. Her trainer at the gym. The same Jeno who had seen her red-faced, sweaty, hair plastered to her forehead after just thirty minutes on the treadmill. The same Jeno who had patiently coaxed her through endless sets of squats while she complained dramatically about her legs giving out. The same Jeno who’d stood nearby with calm encouragement when she struggled with dumbbells that seemed far too heavy for her hands. He’d seen her vulnerable, frustrated, embarrassed—and he had never once looked at her with judgment. Only patience. Only that quiet, steady smile of his.
At the beginning, that was all he had been to her: a good trainer, friendly and attentive, who seemed to know exactly when to push her and when to let her rest. But as the weeks turned into months, something began to change. Their conversations lingered after the workouts ended. She’d catch his eyes on her just a fraction too long, his smile softening in a way that felt personal, different. He would ask about her day even when other clients waited, and she found herself inventing excuses to stretch out their chats by just a few more minutes. Something had sparked between them, subtle but impossible to ignore.
And now, here she was, about to go on a real date with him.
She forced herself off the bed and back to the closet, determined to make a decision. After another exhausting round of doubt, she finally pulled out a dress she had almost forgotten she owned. It was simple, light, made of fabric that draped naturally without clinging in the wrong places. It wasn’t flashy, but it wasn’t forgettable either. It felt like her. Not too daring, not too safe. Just enough.
She slipped it on and stood before the mirror again. This time, her reflection didn’t make her wince. She turned slowly, watching the fabric flow around her, then exhaled a nervous sigh.
“What do you think, Junni?” she asked, glancing at the dog curled up in his plush little bed by the corner.
Junni tilted his head at her, eyes bright for a second before he let out a tiny sigh and tucked his nose back into his paws.
“Perfect. Talking to a dog. Officially losing my mind,” Y/n said, shaking her head with a shaky laugh.
She crouched to fill his blue bowl with kibble, comforted by the familiar routine. The sound of the pieces clinking against the dish grounded her, reminding her that this was just another evening—except it wasn’t. Her heart knew it wasn’t.
And then it happened. A sharp car horn cut through the air outside.
Her heart leapt to her throat. She rushed to the window, pulling back the curtain just enough to peek outside. Parked in front of her house was a sleek silver-gray car. Her pulse quickened, her palms turning clammy. He’s here. Jeno’s here.
She scrambled for her bag, mentally reciting the checklist like a lifeline.
“Phone, lipstick, wipes… okay,” she whispered, as if repeating the words could steady her trembling.
A car door shut outside. Then came three gentle knocks at her front door.
She froze. Her chest rose and fell too quickly. For a second, she thought she might faint from the sheer anticipation. Then, gathering every ounce of courage she had, she closed her eyes, inhaled deeply, and forced herself toward the door.
When she turned the handle and pulled it open, there he was. Jeno.
He looked even better than she remembered, though she hadn’t thought that possible. His usual gym attire—sweats, sneakers, casual t-shirts—was replaced by dark jeans and a crisp white linen shirt with the sleeves rolled up to reveal his forearms. He looked relaxed, effortless, yet completely put together. And in his hands, he held a small bouquet of wildflowers.
“Hi,” he said, his smile tinged with the kind of nervousness that made her chest squeeze.
“Hi,” she echoed, her own voice softer than intended.
He extended the flowers toward her.
“I didn’t really know what to bring, but I saw these and… thought of you.”
She blinked, touched more than she expected. They weren’t roses or some extravagant arrangement—just wildflowers, fresh and colorful in their simplicity. Somehow, that made them feel perfect.
“They’re lovely! Thank you, Jeno.”
He rubbed the back of his neck with his free hand, a gesture she knew well from the gym whenever he was caught off guard. Silence lingered for a beat, heavy with unspoken nerves, until both of them let out a quiet laugh, breaking it.
They walked to his car, and with an old-fashioned gallantry that caught her off guard, he opened the door for her. Y/n slid inside, her hands trembling just enough that she tucked them discreetly into her lap. The interior smelled faintly of mint and something warm, like coffee. She inhaled, trying to steady herself.
The drive began with safe topics: the traffic, the song playing on the radio, the joke that Junni was probably watching them from the window like a suspicious parent. She found herself laughing, the sound easing the tight knot in her stomach.
But then, in the middle of a sentence, Jeno blurted out a comment that came out bolder than he intended. The moment it left his lips, his eyes widened in panic.
“Sorry—I-I didn’t mean it like that, I just—”
Y/n turned her head to study him. He looked so genuinely mortified, so desperate to rewind the moment, that she almost burst out laughing. Instead, she offered him a gentle smile.
“It’s fine. Don’t worry,” she said, her voice calm. Inside, she thought, Maybe another time.
He let out a nervous chuckle, gripping the wheel tighter, his gaze locked on the road.
“I just… I don’t want you to think badly of me.”
Her chest softened. She reached out, laying a hand lightly on his arm.
“I don’t, Jeno. Really.”
His shoulders eased instantly, his relief visible. The rest of the ride flowed smoother, lighter, as if that little stumble had broken the ice rather than ruined it.
The restaurant he brought her to was warm and intimate, lit by soft golden lights and candles flickering on each table. The low murmur of conversations and the occasional clink of glasses created a cozy backdrop.
They settled at a table by the window, ordered wine, and soon their meals arrived—beautifully plated, almost works of art. For a moment, neither wanted to touch them, but the aroma was irresistible.
Midway through dinner, Y/n put her fork down, her cheeks faintly pink.
“You know… I’ve never had a date like this.”
Jeno looked up, brows lifting.
“Really?”
“Really. My love life’s been… pretty nonexistent. A couple of silly things in school, but nothing serious.”
He leaned back, watching her intently, as though trying to figure out if she was joking.
“I don’t believe that.”
“Why not?” she teased with a crooked smile.
“Because you’re beautiful, Y/n. And I don’t just mean—obviously. You have something real.”
Her heart stuttered. She ducked her gaze quickly, lifting her wine glass as a shield. The warmth spreading through her chest had nothing to do with the alcohol. Hearing it from him, in this moment, felt different. Felt genuine.
The rest of dinner slipped by in laughter and easy conversation. He told her stories about gym clients who dramatically overestimated their strength, leaving him to rush over when their arms gave out. She admitted her eternal hatred for the stationary bike and how he had miraculously convinced her to give it another try. Between sips of wine and bursts of laughter, time seemed to vanish.
When their plates were cleared, Jeno suggested a walk. The beach was nearby, quiet at night. They strolled along the path, the salty breeze brushing against their skin, the steady rhythm of waves filling the silences.
“Do you remember your first day at the gym?” Jeno asked with a grin.
“Of course. I thought you’d be some drill-sergeant type, yelling at me every time I slowed down.”
“And then I heard you laugh when one of your coworkers couldn’t lift a dumbbell, and I thought, okay, maybe he’s not that scary.”
They laughed together, their voices mingling with the sound of the ocean. Conversation wandered: she told him funny anecdotes about Junni’s stubborn antics, and he spoke with fond nostalgia about a husky he’d had as a child, insisting its fur had looked like a cloud.
Eventually, during a lull in their conversation, Jeno slowed to a stop. His gaze found hers, steady and searching, the kind of look that seemed to reach past her defenses.
Before she could ask what was wrong, he leaned in and kissed her.
It was soft at first, tentative, but full of honesty. She responded instantly, her eyes fluttering closed, her body leaning into his. It felt like the culmination of all the stolen glances, all the lingering conversations, all the unspoken things they’d been holding back.
When they pulled apart, both laughed breathlessly, cheeks flushed.
“I like you, Y/n,” he confessed, finally putting words to what had always hovered between them.
“I like you too, Jeno,” she answered, every syllable sincere.
They lingered there, bathed in moonlight, the waves crashing softly behind them. Words no longer felt necessary. He took her hand, their fingers intertwining easily, and together they walked further down the beach until they found a quieter, more private spot.
They sat in the sand, shoulders brushing, voices low as they shared secrets and stories they’d never told anyone else. Time melted around them, the world shrinking until it was just the two of them and the ocean.
Neither knew what tomorrow would bring. But in that moment—with wildflowers, wine, laughter, and the tide as their witness—they knew something had begun. Something real. Something neither of them wanted to let go of.
angelique's corner: omg hiiiiiii! sorry for disappearing for so long. I’ve had a lot going on lately—both mentally and physically—but nothing to worry about, things are under control now. I really wanted to thank you for being patient, and I hope you enjoy this last part. It honestly took me a bit to write because I lost all the previous chapters and even the fics I had planned for the future. Still, I really hope this little mini fic was worth the wait and that you had fun reading it.
