Cold Mornings

ALRIGHT FOLKS

Deceiving the Duke | 9 | Todoroki Shouto

pairing: Todoroki Shouto x Female Reader

length: 4.1k of 30k words | 9th of 9 chapters

summary: When Camie Utsushimi elopes on the eve of her society debut, scandal threatens to destroy the family’s prospects. It’s up to you, a maid, to impersonate Camie throughout the Season, long enough that her elder sister can make a match. The only trouble? Lord Shouto Todoroki is also intent on making a match—and that match, quite impossibly, appears to involve you.

tags/warnings: romance, regency au, class differences, hidden identity/identity porn, aged up characters, eventual smut

You couldn’t think of a thing to say during the carriage ride, pretending to look out over streets glowing in the newly-risen sun. But you kept sneaking glances back at Lord Shouto, only to find him watching you contemplatively, his handsome face unreadable to you.

You wondered what he truly thought of you. If he had known this entire time you were only pretending to be Camie–why had he let you go through with it? Why had he kissed you last night, even?

You could almost think he had been trying to entrap you in turn, except that you knew him to be too good for that.

So why had he let you go on?

You stiffened as the palace came into view, a huge, imposing structure with immaculately whitewashed walls, rising several stories above the ground. An enormous wrought iron gate let into the grounds, down a short drive fringed pink-blossomed trees, which finally led onto a cobblestoned concourse which looked like it had never seen a speck of dirt.

Guards in the Yaoyorozu livery were stationed all along the palace’s face, their sabers resting conspicuously at their sides.

You felt your fingers tighten in the fabric of your dress.

Lord Shouto jumped down from the carriage as soon as it stopped, and reached out a hand for you again. You considered whether you should avoid it–you were not a lady, and you were now in the presence of hundreds of people who would see him do so. Before you could brace yourself to jump down on your own, however, Lord Shouto’s hands found your waist. Your stomach swooped as he lifted you out of the carriage entirely, placing you on the ground as though you were no heavier than a child.

Your knees felt suddenly weak, and you focused on getting your feet properly back under you. You did not dare grip his sleeve for support.

“Come with me,” Lord Shouto said, his low voice gentle in the morning air.

He offered his arm—as though you were a lady again!–and looked at you expectantly.

“My lord, I do not think you should treat me as such,” you said quietly, as a footman scurried out the entrance of the palace towards you.

Lord Shouto’s eyes picked over you, his head tilting. “There should be no object. You’ve already embroiled me in scandal enough, do you not think?” he said.

Your stomach turned over, but the tiniest quirk at the corner of his mouth told you he meant it in jest. Still–

“Your Grace, the princess will receive you in her sitting room,” the footman said, puffing as he approached.

“Thank you,” Lord Shouto said. Then he reached out and quite determinedly took your hand, pulling your arm carefully through his. He ignored the footman’s wide-eyed look, and gently tugged you along after him.

You were too stunned to say anything, your tongue feeling as though it had tied itself in a knot. The feeling only worsened as you were led deeper into the palace, down a long hall and through a series of intricately brocaded and muraled rooms with echoing marble floors. Eventually you emerged into a room painted a cheery yellow, with sunny rows of windows and several ornately patterned sitting benches.

Your heart stopped.

On the nearest sofa sat a gorgeous woman, with fair skin and raven-black hair, upon which rested a small silvery tiara. The Princess Momo Yaoyorozu herself.

Quickly abandoning Shouto, you dropped into the lowest curtsy you could manage, feeling your knees wobble underneath you. Out of the corner of your eye, you watched as Shouto swept the most absolutely cursory bow you’d ever seen in your life. You started, appalled by the slight.

What was he doing?

But the princess looked deeply unruffled, smiling as she rose from the sofa.

“Shouto,” she said, happily.

And then she rounded the table and embraced him.

“Momo,” Lord Shouto said in return. “It is good to see you in good health.”

You stared, aware that your mouth had dropped open, but completely unable to close it. So they–were a couple? But then you noticed the slight woman at the princess’s shoulder, who also reached out and embraced Lord Shouto.

“Jirou,” he said.

Jirou colored pink and cuffed the back of his head lightly. “Next time I’d ask you to consider causing a scene like this later in the day.”

Lord Shouto’s face went carefully blank, the very picture of innocence. “I know not what you mean.”

Jirou looked unfazed. “I’m sure.”

Just then, the princess’s gaze wandered to you, her eyes dark and fathomless and intimidatingly pretty. You froze under her sudden attention. “This must be your Miss Not-Quite-Utsushimi,” she said.

Your stomach lurched. She knew. The princess already knew what you had done.

Was this it, then? The moment of reckoning? What Shouto had brought you here for, to see that royal justice was done unto you?

But the princess just smiled, and gestured to a bench opposite the sofa. “Please, sit.”

You almost sat down reflexively right on the floor. Thankfully, Lord Shouto took your elbow and gently guided you to the chair, taking the place next to you. You tried very hard not to notice the way his strong thigh pressed against your skirts.

“Now then, Shouto tells me you’ve gotten yourself into a bit of trouble. I’d like to hear it from you, if you don’t mind,” Princess Momo said as she settled back into her seat.

You could barely think straight. It was like every thought you’d ever had suddenly gathered in your mouth, all clamoring to burst forth. You tripped over your own words, barely managing coherence.

“Your Highness–it’s not. I mean, it’s not my trouble, it’s Lord Shouto’s. I’ve gone and involved him in a way I did not mean, and he desperately needs to call off the marriage. It’s entrapment! He was caught with me, and I’m not Camie–his reputation—my fault, I mean–”

Lord Shouto’s gloved hand found your thigh, and you jumped.

His mouth drew close to your ear. “Breathe, Y/N.”

It was the first time you’d ever heard him use your name, and the sound went through you like a lance. You only just managed to clamp down on what might have been a horrible little whimper, your fingers clenching in your skirts for something to ground you.

“It’s as I described in my letters, Momo,” Lord Shouto said, turning back to the princess.

She ignored him, her gaze picking over you. “You mean you meant to entrap His Grace?” she asked.

“No!” you yelped, leaning forwards desperately. “No, please. You must ask him to call it off!”

She tilted her head and waited, as if for more of an explanation.

You blew out a nervous breath, trying to find the words to explain. “I am a–I was a maid, Your Highness. I have worked for the Utsushimi family for years. Just days before the season, Camie Utsushimi eloped with Lord Inasa Yoarashi, leaving her elder sister Caroline the consequences of the scandal. Mrs. Utsushimi–that is, it was decided that I should pretend to be Camie long enough for Miss Caroline to make a match.”

The princess’s eyebrows raised.

“I did not expect that I should–-that I should find someone as good and kind as Lord Shouto. I have no excuses for participating in and continuing the charade.”

You did not know how to continue. You let the words sit there in heavy silence.

“And what would you want now?” The princess finally asked. “Now that you’re to be revealed as a servant?”

You ducked your head. “I want only that Lord Shouto distance himself quickly.”

“And you?” Princess Momo asked.

You did not dare ask that she let you flee into the countryside as you so desperately hoped. It was the height of folly to think that you would be let off with no punishment. God, however had you thought you could have pulled this scheme off? What absolute madness had possessed you to go along with it?

“Whatever Your Highness thinks is suitable penalty,” you said, unable to look into her face.

“Why did you do it?” The princess asked, as Lord Shouto had.

You answered as you had then. “For money, Your Highness.”

Lord Shouto leaned forward. “For her family, Momo. She sends a wage.”

Your skin prickled, hoping that this admission would not make targets out of your parents too.

“And your parents know of this scheme?” she asked.

You panicked, getting to your feet. “No! Your Highness, please, I have not told them–”

“Momo, I’ll thank you not to scare my intended,” Lord Shouto intoned from your side. You realized he’d also risen. He took your arm, tugging you gently back down. “Nothing will happen to your family, Y/N,” he said.

Your pulse pounded under his grip. You tried to focus on how gentle and warm his touch was, as little as you deserved it.

Fuck. Fuck, just what had you gotten yourself into?

“You are lucky,” Princess Momo said finally, “That Shouto thinks this is all very funny.”

You froze, glancing up at her. He–he thought this was–what?

“He’s been writing me these past months, telling me of you. I did not like the idea of it, but Shouto tells me you are…good. That you did not mean to draw anyone’s notice, and that you have very consistently resisted his advances,” the princess said.

Your memory flashed to the feeling of his mouth on you last night. You had not really resisted his advances consistently enough. If only she knew how inappropriately you had reveled in them.

“I see that you are much like what he says,” the princess said, and you heard a kind of unexpected softening of her tone.

You did not know what to say.

“I brought you here to see for myself. And I am…satisfied,” she said. “Though, I will always watch out for him as he has watched out for me since the War for All.”

The knot of tension in your chest uncoiled a little. But surely, she could not mean that she meant to let an infringement of this nature go unpunished?

“Your Highness, I am afraid I do not understand,” you said.

Lord Shouto’s hand found the side of your thigh again, and he pressed those long fingers against you. “She means that she will insist on keeping an eye on you, once we are married,” he said.

Your head snapped towards him, and you gaped. He watched you back, those mismatched eyes glittering in a way that you found so very horribly familiar.

“Married?” you echoed incredulously. “My lord–I am not–you cannot–what?”

Shouto ducked his head to look into your face more closely. “Then you will not have me?”

You sputtered. “Have you? Me, have you? My lord, really, are you unwell? We’ve just established, I am not Camie Utsushimi!”

“I’m well aware…Y/N.” Lord Shouto said, his tone dropping terribly low. A little shiver went up your spine.

“And as you are now well aware, I have known for some time,” he continued. “I knew from the beginning. And I certainly knew when I kissed you last night.”

The shiver became a full body shudder. “Lord Shouto–it doesn’t make sense…”

“He never does,” Jirou piped up helpfully from the princess’s side. “He’s been strange since birth, according to Momo.”

Shouto’s features went intentionally deadpan again, as though he could not countenance such a claim. You couldn’t help the grin that pulled at your mouth.

“He liked when you threw the apricot cake at him,” the princess supplied. “Wrote about it in great detail in his first letter about you. He also waxed poetic about your inability to speak any Greek, as though that were a great accomplishment of yours.”

Your ears went hot. “You did not,” you said.

Shouto had the grace to look the tiniest bit abashed. “Thank you, Momo,” he said, with absolutely no inflection to his tone whatsoever.

You were overcome by a wave of helpless affection for him. “Lord Shouto, I’m still afraid it isn’t done…much as I should–much as your affections are more than reciprocated. I–I’m afraid the scandal–”

“Will not bother me,” Shouto said.

You waved your arm helplessly. “My lord–”

“If it helps,” Princess Momo said. “At Shouto’s behest, I’ve found a little barren plot of land and a just-barely noble title that might be granted to you, in order to facilitate a proper marriage. I…owed him a favor, for services rendered in the War for All. That is, if you will agree to have him.”

Shouto looked back at you, looking a little bit smug for managing to have pulled all this together.

“I’ve procured a special license weeks ago. And I have also written Lord Inasa, and your Camie,” he said. “As it happens, I know Lord Inasa well enough. They will attest to having known of your status, and to having attended the wedding. Your friends Miss Uraraka and Lady Asui have also agreed, provided that you apologize to them in person.”

“As will Jirou and I,” Princess Momo said. “Which should be enough to get half the ton pretending that they were there.”

“Miss Caroline and Mr. Awase, should they care to continue their engagement, should also be told. There should be no impropriety in the match, then,” Shouto said. “Although there will still be talk of your impersonating Camie.”

You could not believe it.

It all sounded so unreal–that you, simply by agreeing now, could become Shouto’s wife.

Horrible, hot little tears gathered in the corner of your eyes. “I can’t believe you didn’t tell me.”

“You didn’t tell me,” Shouto pointed out, though his tone was gentle. “Let those be the last secrets we keep from one another.”

A wave of emotion crashed over you, and it was only the princess’s presence that kept you from throwing yourself at Shouto.

It was real. He was really real, and he truly wanted you.

“Yes,” you said, watching him closely. “If you will really have me, then yes. It would be improper of me, I think, to admit how much I…how much I love you. But I have been driven mad with it, Shouto. I love you.”

A blindingly handsome smile lit up Shouto’s face, and he’d pulled you to him before you realized he’d even moved. He had you up and out of the seat in the blink of an eye, and he swept another barely-courteous bow in Princess Momo’s direction–one that you realized was born of years of friendship, rather than any disrespect.

“You understand we must take our leave of you,” Shouto said.

Princess Momo bit her pretty lip as though fighting down a laugh. “Indeed. Though I will expect you both back for tea the week after next. I still have questions.”

“I'm afraid I have a honeymoon planned,” Shouto said. He leaned down to you and said in conspiratorial tones. “I think perhaps some Greek ruins might be in order.”

You groaned out a laugh. “Shouto…”

Princess Momo waved you off, disinterested. “Then write, please. I am pleased to see you finally happy, Shouto.”

“I am,” Shouto said seriously. He pulled you towards the door in a bout of sudden impatience. “Thank you, Momo.”

She waved again, and then you were through the door, a footman collecting you and leading you back out of the palace.

Your head was spinning with a rush of emotion, and your heart beat a staccato of disbelief in your chest. Shouto helped you back into the carriage, a fond little grin on the corner of his mouth.

“You really mean it, Y/N?” he asked as he followed you in, taking up the seat next to you rather than opposite. You soaked in the delicious warmth of him alongside you, something you had been sure just fifteen minutes ago that you might never feel again. “Be honest with me.”

You nodded, looking up into his handsome face. “I promise to always be honest with you from this point on.”

Another smile twitched at the corner of Shouto’s mouth, a wry, mischievous little thing. “Good,” he said, his voice dropping low. “As I plan to make an honest wife out of you now, love.”

You shivered again, and Shouto drank it in with far too much satisfaction.

But then he leaned in, smiling, and kissed you.

Over the carriage ride, you spoke very little–far too occupied with one another to manage much conversation–but Shouto did convey that your wedding would be a secret affair, first thing in the morning, under the eye of the Archbishop who was closely aligned with the Yaoyorozu family, and excellent at keeping secrets.

Which left you with the entire afternoon—an afternoon you planned to spend wisely.

When you arrived back at his lodgings, an attempt was made to feed you and offer you a room of your own–so that things might be proper. But you hadn’t done any of this properly in the slightest, and you didn’t plan to start now.

In only a matter of minutes, you had both stumbled into Shouto’s bedroom, an elegantly-appointed suite that you would have to inspect more closely later, when you weren’t so preoccupied with what his mouth was doing just above the neckline of your dress.

“Shouto, you’ll tear it,” you said, as he tugged at the higher, more conservative collar of your servant’s garb.

“Good,” Shouto intoned in his low voice, his mouth still pressed to the line of your neck in a way that reminded you of the masquerade last night. “You’ll never need it again.”

His fingers tugged harder, and he murmured quietly, “Once I have this off you, you’ll never dress as a maid again.”

The thought made you dizzy, and you grasped his shoulder for stability, which only gave him better purchase to tug your dress down the other arm. Soon he’d gotten you down to your stays and stockings, and the appreciative groan he made as he looked you over sent little shivers over your skin.

He walked you back to his bed, layering kisses everywhere–over your face, your chest, your arms, any part of you he could reach.

“You’ll stop me, if you want to?” he asked, mismatched eyes flicking up to yours.

“I don’t want to,” you told him, reaching out to grasp his coat, pulling him down to the bed with you. His warm, hard body against you dredged up the memory of last night–all those straining feet of him pressing you against the wall, that feeling that had built up within you as he touched you through your skirts. “I could have screamed when they found us last night.”

Shouto’s face dropped into the crook of your neck, and he left a stinging bite on your shoulder. “I almost challenged Mr. Awase to a duel there and then. All good sense had left me.”

You knew the feeling–all good sense had left you quite presently, replaced with the burning desire to have him over you, pressing all along you, weighing you down into the mattress and finishing what you’d started on the assembly room balcony.

“Shouto, please. I want–I need–”

Shouto didn’t let you finish, sealing his mouth over yours. His fingers busied themselves with the laces of your stays, and it was only a matter of minutes until he had you bare to him entirely.

“Perfect,” he said, in a tone so low you could feel it in your bones. His fingers pressed between your thighs, and your gasp echoed in the early morning quiet. “You are perfect.”

You rather thought he was perfect, as you finally managed to push his coat off of him and tore at the buttons of his shirt. Underneath he was all hard muscle and smooth skin, and you found yourself struck dumb by the way his abs flexed, the way his waist tapered into the line of his breeches.

He was even more perfectly carved than those blasted Greek sculptures, and you surged up to kiss him again. His fingers found their way back between your thighs, and you threw your arms over his shoulders, clinging to him as he worked you up to the peak he’d brought you to last night.

It felt like you had no control over yourself as you writhed against his hand, your mouth desperately seeking his to quiet the noises you wanted to make.

Shouto’s touch was maddening, every twist of his fingers smooth and deft, and his thumb worked your clit so gently you wanted to scream. It was too much, and yet not enough, and yet everything you’d ever wanted—

“Please, Shouto,” you begged. “Please, please.”

“Please what, love?” he asked, smiling down at you. But you could tell he knew what you wanted, and that he wanted it too, if the hard press of him against your thigh was any measure.

“Shouto, if you don't take me in the next few moments, I swear there will be an entire hailstorm of apricot cakes with your name on them–!” you threatened, but Shouto was laughing and pressing into you before you could finish, and you cut off on another gasp, clutching him for dear life.

The stretch of him inside you was sharp, and unfamiliar, and a little uncomfortable at first. But he seemed to know what he was doing, teasing your clit and layering hot, biting kisses all over you, until you didn’t know what to focus on–until he was fully inside you.

He kissed you utterly stupid while he let you adjust, his hands everywhere, distracting you. He murmured sweet things, how beautiful you were, how lovely, how perfect for him. By the time he finally moved you were a shivery puddle of praise and feeling, and the slide of him was so suddenly good you couldn’t even think straight.

“I knew you were my match the minute you first spoke to me,” he bit at out as his hips worked against you. “I knew I would love you.”

You bit back an embarrassing noise as Shouto’s pace grew faster and unmeasured. “I–Shouto–love you–” you managed. Shouto’s hips jerked in response, and he grasped your thighs, pulling you even harder into him. You couldn’t hold back a moan as he hit deeper within you and the new angle had you shuddering uncontrollably. He huffed a harsh breath against your throat, similarly affected, his fingers digging into you thigh.

After that, it was only a matter of minutes. Everything about him seemed calculated to drive you over the edge–the feeling of him hot and hard inside you, the sight of his abs tightening and flexing between your thighs, his fingers and his mouth all over you. The flush of effort on his cheekbones looked so good on him that you could barely believe he was real.

Everything–absolutely everything about him drove you right to the edge of madness, and then another hard thrust from him sent you right over it.

You cried out his name, trapped underneath him as you rode out your pleasure. And it seemed to hit Shouto too–his eyes widened as he watched you, and he bit out a curse you’d never heard from him before. His hips stuttered, frantically bucking into you as if he had no control, and a warmth flooded inside you.

Shouto breathed out a shaky breath and relaxed over you, the sticky, hot weight of him pinning you underneath him.

“I love you,” was all you could think to tell him, your mind still fuzzy with pleasure. “I love you.”

Shouto’s mouth curved into another wry little grin, and he smiled down at you, those mismatched eyes glinting.

“I see I did make an honest woman of you, then,” he said, sounding a little too pleased with himself.

You kissed him to shut him up, and pulled him closer–unable to deny that he had. You couldn’t think of anything you wanted than to give him your whole heart, bare and honest and real, for the rest of your lifetime together.

There would be no deceiving the duke–-not anymore.

Especially if, after you’d caught your breath, you could convince him to make an honest woman of you yet again.

And hopefully, again and again and again.

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A short Baldur's Gate 3 comic about Kith'rak Voss, Prince Orpheus, and grief.

Words and art by me.

8 pages below the cut.

I have....so much to say about these two, their beginnings, those millenias apart, Voss being the fabled destroyer of Prince Orpheus while beneath it all, being his voice, truth, and living breathing hope.

Then Orpheus' freedom, the hope of their people's freedom and a better future, and beneath all that, what it just means for them.

Two people who were - are we, again?

Thank you for reading. I hope you enjoyed. <3

you guys fucking lied to me