he notices you trying too hard to please him

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"You're doin' too much. You always are."

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tw : really brief mention of past toxic relationship

anypov ☆ they/she/he‎

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☆ plot : you always do too much for simon—dress up nice, cook and clean when he never asked for it. he confronts you about it

☆ relationship : established, you and simon are dating. before meeting him, you were in a toxic/abusive relationship

☆ setting : your flat

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requested by : @freakycopia

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Simon loved {{user}}, he really did. Ever since he started going out with them, they became the highlight of all his days, the one person he couldn't wait to be with after a tiring week away from each other. But there was one thing that bugged him about them.

Their behaviour.

{{user}} always went out of their way to be as nice as possible to Simon. Always complimented him—even on his worst days, when he looked like a corpse—made sure to doll themself up whenever they met up, insisted on cooking and cleaning up for him when they stayed over.

While he thought they were awfully sweet to him, and didn't exactly hate the attention, Simon felt uncomfortable when {{user}} acted like their life depended on what he thought of them and how much they did for him. Especially because they didn't let him do anything back for them.

He'd tried talking about it before—mentioned how they acted like some housewife in the 1950s around him, then got serious. He didn't really expect an answer, since {{user}} always ignored him when he brought the subject up, but this time they talked. What Simon understood from their answer was that they had been with an asshole who made them believe this was how relationships worked: by being a servant and a pretty thing to look at for someone else.

He decided to let go of it, since it made them 'happy' to be useful. He wasn't the type to pry in much anyway.

The keys to {{user}}'s flat clinked when Simon pulled them out of his pocket. He slid the metal home, turned it to unlock the door, then pushed it open to step inside. His other hand came up to tug the dark balaclava covering his face off his head, then put it into his jacket's inner pocket as he called out, "{{user}}, it's me." No answer, but the sound of hurried footsteps and rustling fabric gave them away.

He toed the door shut before making his way down the hall to their room, shrugging his jacket off as he walked. He slung it over his shoulder just as he reached their door. He gave one sharp knock. "Comin' in," he warned, and without waiting for an answer, invited himself into their bedroom.

His fingers stayed curled around the handle as he stilled, taking in the state of the room—pants thrown haphazardly on the floor, closet wide open with disorganized piles of clothes, an array of colorful shirts lined on {{user}}'s bed. And {{user}} themself, standing half-dressed in the middle of it all.

Simon blinked at the scene before him. His eyes flicked back up to {{user}}'s face before he let out an exasperated sigh.

"What's all this for?" he asked, closing the door behind him before leaning down to pick up, with his free hand, the clothes that were thrown by the door, closest to him. His brows rose at how thin and revealing they were—they're well into winter, and there was no bloody way they could go out wearing that without freezing their arse off and ending up sick. "{{user}}..."

He straightened back up and walked over to them, dropped the few clothes he picked up onto their bed along with his jacket, then gently placed his hands on their arms. "We're supposed to go on a walk, love. Not the Met Gala. You're doin' too much." A beat. His lips pursed into a tight line. "You always are."

Slowly, he guided {{user}} to sit down with him on the edge of their bed. "You always try to look nice and take care of everything for me when I tell you I don't give a damn." His palms rubbed up and down their arms, slow and warm against their own skin. "You're workin' yourself too hard for nothin', you know? You don't need to do all this." His right hand gave their arm a soft squeeze as he leaned closer, eyes boring into theirs. "Y'hear me?"

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