G/N. Gun Park, Ryuhei Kuroda, Jake Kim. Just stupid and silly.
He says it mocking and derisive as if it is something to be ashamed of.
Maybe it is. Gun doesn't know what a simp is. Goo opens his mouth and most of the time only shit comes out. Gun isn't about to ask and neither does he care.
"Wrapped around Y/N's finger," Goo sneers and that, Gun understands.
Maybe that's true too. He still aims a punch at the blonde's head.
Leaning over Gun's shoulder, you peer at the search box and chuckle, "Simp? Why are you searching for simp?"
"I'm researching what it means."
"Huh." Your brows knit together, wondering how he came across the term, when this is the kind of person who likes to text in either simple emojis or full sentences and no inbetween, has no idea about pop culture references and terminologies, and you had to teach him what the eggplant emoji actually meant.
A Cheshire cat smile creeps over your face, " Did Goo Kim call you a simp?"
Gun turns towards you, traces of annoyance on his face, "He did."
He looks down at the definition of simp again, doesn't really understand why it's meant as an insult, when at the crux of it, for Gun, it's simply someone attentive and devoted to their partner.
Gun grumbles, but he supposes: Yes. For you, he is a simp.
Kenta and Ryuhei are Executives.
Part of the exclusive club of Senior Management at Workers yet they both wait patiently in line at the coffee bar as their assistants (and yours) fidgets behind them.
"They're worried," Kenta murmurs in his native tongue.
"Why?" Ryuhei glances over and indeed all three appear concerned.
"That you think they can't do their jobs."
"It's just a coffee." Ryuhei shrugs, "Anyone can get a coffee."
"Exactly," Kenta wonders if he's being deliberately obtuse. "And it's expected that assistants get the coffee. They think they're doing something wrong because you're here."
"I know how Y/N likes their coffee."
"So does their assistant."
"I know precisely how Y/N likes their coffee."
Kenta sees the beginnings of a sulk, Ryuhei's bottom lip starting to jut out and the furrow of his brows, and sighs.
Ryuhei is being deliberately obtuse. It's not even a particularly adventurous order. Even Kenta knows how you like your coffee, having unfortunately been dragged here by his friend enough times.
They both shuffle forwards.
"One large Americano. No sugar, no milk," Kenta demonstrates, rattling off your drink of choice to the barista.
It's difficult to get wrong.
Ryuhei gasps dramatically at Kenta stealing his thunder, and receives an eye roll in return. Who cares about who places the order? Ryuhei is going to be the one that hand delivers the coffee anyway, then hang around you all afternoon being a nuisance.
"You're such a simp." Kenta complains.
Any hint of indignation disappears, and a wide cheerful grin spreads over the blonde’s face.
For someone of Jake Kim's size, he can be surprisingly sleuthy.
He pokes his head into the room, where the majority of his inner circle sits, hears both his and your name being mentioned and his ears perk up.
With quiet, measured movements, sneaks over to the table, and slides into the empty space between Jason and Jerry.
"-I can't believe he is such a simp!" Brad chuckles.
"He really is," Jason agrees.
Jake leans forward, "Who is?"
Lua rolls her eyes, "Jake!"
Hasn't this guy kept up with the conversation? "Yeah, obviously!" Lineman adds-
And then eyes widening in shock, recoils sharply. As does the rest of the table.
Jake?! When did?! How?! What?
An uncomfortable silence descends, festers, stretches taut-
Snaps, when Jake raises his eyebrows and asks the group, "I'm a simp, huh?"
Jerry, his ever loyal sword, speaks for the first time. "You are."
Jake considers it, thinks about himself, thinks about you and his eyes soften. He grins, toothy and lovestruck, "I am."
