Regency AU with Simon as a Duke but you're his butler...
You two exchange longing glances frequently and your casual touches always lingers for far too long than they should. You just want to have him but you're not of high standing in society so you're forced to sneak around with him.
Oh, those nights in his study where the only light is from one or two small candles because Sir Riley doesn't want anyone to happen upon you two locked in a loving embrace. His arms wrapped around you as he devours the taste of you as he kisses you.
You indulge in improper manners as you moan "Simon" in-between kisses instead of his proper title, giving yourself the intimacy that you should not have. But you know he doesn't mind as he pulls you in closer and his kisses become more fevered.
He wants you and you want him. But it will never last.
So you might as well take everything you can get before it all falls apart.
(I don't know if your request is open or not since Tumblr can be glitch? If not,plz ignore it or if you have done it before!!)
So what if Reader is the butler,like they are kinda hard to be understand by everyone (you know,emotional like that OR maybe you can make the reader act like any butler anime character that you know if you get it).
So the request is I want to see how the butler reader interact with Aventurine and how they slowly develop their feelings to each other (maybe you can make it a little angst with comfort if you want)
“Behind every mask, there's a person”
Summary: You, a stoic and emotionally guarded butler, serve the enigmatic and charismatic Aventurine, a high-ranking executive in the IPC. Though you remain distant and composed, Aventurine’s calculated charm and underlying vulnerability begin to draw you in. Over time, the two of you develop an unlikely connection, built on shared silence, understanding, and an unspoken bond. As Aventurine reveals more of his past and his emotional turmoil, you find yourself staying not just out of duty, but because, for the first time, you’ve found someone worth staying for.
Warnings: Themes of trauma, Survivor’s guilt, Emotional tension, Manipulation (though not harmful in this context), Introspection. Contains some elements of angst but ends on a note of comfort and emotional resolution.
The opulent suite was a sanctuary of indulgence and design, a blend of decadence and meticulous taste that perfectly reflected Aventurine himself. Velvet curtains in hues of green and gold framed the massive floor-to-ceiling windows, which offered an unobstructed view of the city skyline below. Crystal chandeliers cast shimmering patterns across the polished marble floor, and the air carried a faint scent of peacock orchids, exotic and rare.
At the center of this luxurious space stood Aventurine, his silhouette illuminated by the soft glow of the evening cityscape. His overcoat hung loosely over his shoulders, and his glasses caught the light as he gazed at the roulette wheel centerpiece on the table before him.
You, his butler, stood quietly by the entrance, your hands clasped behind your back. You had served many powerful figures in your time, but none were quite like Aventurine. He was a puzzle—a man of contradictions. His flamboyant charm often clashed with the quiet melancholy that lingered in his eyes when he thought no one was watching.
But you were always watching. Observing. Analyzing. It was your job, after all.
“You’ve been standing there for five minutes, my dear,” Aventurine said suddenly, his voice smooth and playful. He didn’t turn to face you, instead tracing a finger along the edge of the roulette wheel. “Should I take that as a sign of silent judgment or quiet admiration?”
“I was waiting for you to summon me,” you replied evenly, your tone devoid of the warmth most would use in addressing him. It was one of the reasons others found you difficult to understand; your words often lacked inflection, making it hard to tell what you truly felt.
Aventurine finally turned, his eyes locking onto yours. His ever-present smile curved upward, but there was a flicker of something unreadable behind it. “Ah, always so proper. I do admire your discipline, though I must admit, I sometimes wonder what lies beneath that stoic exterior of yours.”
You tilted your head slightly, meeting his gaze without flinching. “I could say the same of you, sir.”
His laughter rang out, light and carefree. “Touché.”
The days passed, and your interactions followed a similar rhythm. Aventurine would tease, test, and prod, while you maintained your unshakable composure. Yet, over time, the cracks in both of your facades began to show.
One evening, as you adjusted the cuffs of his overcoat before an event, your hand brushed against his. You felt him flinch—just barely—but it was enough to make you glance up. For a moment, his mask slipped, and you saw it: the weariness, the loneliness, the pain he hid so well.
“Apologies,” you said softly, withdrawing your hand.
Aventurine’s smile returned, but it was different this time. Smaller. Sadder. “No need. It seems even I am not immune to the occasional slip.”
It was a stormy night when everything changed. Aventurine had canceled his meetings and retreated to his suite, leaving you to your duties. As the rain lashed against the windows, you entered the study to find him sitting on the floor by the fireplace, a glass of wine in hand. His hat and glasses were discarded, and his sandy blond hair was a disheveled mess.
“You’re off the clock, aren’t you?” he asked without looking up.
“I am here to serve you, sir,” you replied.
“Serve me,” he echoed, his tone bitter. He swirled the wine in his glass before downing it in one go. “Do you ever tire of it? This life of servitude? Of burying yourself in the shadows of others?”
You hesitated, unsure how to respond. Aventurine had always been a master of deflection, but tonight his words carried a vulnerability you had never heard before.
“I do what I must,” you finally replied, keeping your tone neutral. “Much like you.”
Aventurine let out a humorless chuckle. “Touché again. You’re consistent, if nothing else.” He set the empty glass down beside him and rested his arms on his knees, staring into the fire. “But tell me, truly—why stay? Why not leave? Surely, there are less exhausting lives to lead.”
The question struck a chord within you, one you hadn’t realized was there. You had served many, each with their own quirks and flaws, but Aventurine was different. Despite his arrogance, his risks, and the chaos he carried with him, you had come to admire him—not just for his brilliance, but for the humanity he hid behind his flamboyant facade.
“I stay because I choose to,” you said, your voice quiet but firm. “You are… difficult, sir. Flawed, reckless, and exhausting, as you said. But I have seen what lies beneath all of that. I have seen the man you try so hard to hide. And I believe he is worth serving.”
Aventurine froze, his pupils narrowing as he processed your words. For once, he seemed at a loss. “You’re full of surprises,” he murmured, his voice barely audible.
You took a step closer, emboldened by the uncharacteristic openness he was showing. “You speak of masks, of facades. But I see the way you carry the weight of your past, the way you bury your guilt beneath charm and games. You pretend to be untouchable, but you are just as human as the rest of us.”
The silence that followed was heavy, broken only by the crackling of the fire. Then, Aventurine spoke, his voice tinged with a vulnerability you had never heard before.
“And yet, you stay,” he said, looking up at you. “Despite knowing all of that, you stay.”
“Yes,” you said simply. “I stay.”
For a long moment, Aventurine just stared at you, his magenta and cyan eyes searching yours as if trying to find the catch, the hidden motive. When he found none, his expression softened, and for the first time, his smile felt genuine.
“You are either the bravest or the most foolish person I’ve ever met,” he said, his tone somewhere between amusement and gratitude. “But I… I’m glad you’re here.”
The words were simple, but coming from Aventurine, they carried a weight that made your chest tighten. You gave a small bow, trying to hide the faint warmth spreading through you.
“It is my honor, sir.”
That night marked a shift between you. Aventurine’s teasing became less pointed, his smiles less forced. He began to trust you in ways he trusted no one else, and in turn, you found yourself opening up to him in ways you hadn’t thought possible.
It wasn’t a grand declaration or a dramatic moment that solidified your bond. It was the quiet, stolen moments—the shared silences, the lingering glances, the unspoken understanding that grew between you.
And as you stood by his side, watching him face the endless gambles and risks of his life, you realized something else: you weren’t just staying because it was your duty. You were staying because, for the first time, you had found someone worth staying for.
