#and theyre usually like soap-opera levels of cheesy and dramatic and romantic

[daisyofwaterdeep]

Could I request Accidental Confessions Part Two where Femcis Reader got the antidote for Rolan and both of them just sat down & talked properly to each other after he's no longer under influence of the love potion? With apologies & a happy ending!

I had already planned to write a second part but im using your ask as a vessel to post it ╰(￣ω￣)

~~~~~~ Read the first part here!

Accidental Confessions (Part 2)

Rolan/femcis!Reader

~~~~~~~

You stand in front of the portal, close enough that the swirling magical energy draws strands of your hair forward.

You desperately want to step forward. You desperately want to run away. You have no idea which one is the best choice.

It's been two days since the incident. You haven't seen Rolan since then, and he's all that's been on your mind. You keep replaying the last moment with him, pulled together but still deissheveled as you handed the vial of antidote to him. The way he sat on the stairs, hands shaking, head hanging, eyes never raising to meet yours. And the terse words he spoke as he snatched the bottle from you.

"Thanks. Now leave."

The words weren't angry or sorrowful or pained. They were cold, closed off. You had no choice but to obey.

Rolan knew. That was the only explanation. Everything that happened, everything you allowed to happen, that you encouraged to happen...Rolan knew that you had taken advantage of the situation, and now he hates you. As he should.

Gods, what's wrong with you?

You take in a deep, sobering breath and step into the portal. Your vision goes dark for a brief moment before melting away into the familiar scenery of Ramazith's tower. Your eyes immediately land on Rolan, his back towards a shelf but already turning as you step from the pull of the portal. Golden eyes land on you, curious at first but hardening as he realizes who his visitor is.

"I've been expecting you." Rolan blindly shelves the book he had been thumbing through and descends the stairs, straightening his robe before folding his hands behind his back pertly. "It's best we get this over with."

Having him come toward you makes you want to dive back through the portal but you stay your ground, even if your knees shake. You cast your eyes to the floor, fighting the urge to bunch your hands in your dress as the tips of his shoes come into the field of your vision before stopping.

"Go ahead. Say your piece," He says after a moment of silence, voice curt.

The lump in your throat is so large that you're not sure anything will come out when you open your mouth, but it does, even if your words are small and wavering.

"I'm... resigning from my position."

You can hear Rolan exhale softly but with your eyes on the ground, you can't quite decipher why. "Alright. I'll have your final pay ready by the end of the day."

A dark, greedy part of you recoils at that. Even after everything, there was still a delusional hope that he'd push back-- that he'd protest you leaving.

There's another small stretch of silence, and you watch Rolan's feet shift.

"Well, there's obviously more you need to say, so say it already."

There is more you need to say, but you're fighting for your life to keep tears from blurring your eyes and choking your throat. You've rehearsed this in your mind hundreds of times, thought of the best words to show your sincerity, pictured every sort of scenario...and everything is lined up perfectly. It's the absolute ideal set-up for you to apologize. But the enormity of your remorse is swallowing you, and the only thing you can think is 'don't cry, don't cry, don't cry'.

Rolan's feet shift again. You can't stand here forever, and you know it. So you take in a deep breath and manage out two pitiful words.

"I'm...sorry."

Despite your best efforts, your vision instantly swims and hot tears trail down your cheeks. Damnit.

"Wh-" Rolan sputters, goes silent, then starts again. "You're sorry?"

"I'm sorry," you say again, throat tight and voice high and wavering, "I didn't stop you...I could have stopped you, but I didn't." The tears are coming full force now, a hot tirade that makes your eyes feel puffy and swollen. "I'm s-sorry, Rolan." Your words are hiccuping, toeing the line of full sobbing, "I d-don't expect you to forgive me, just p-please--" As much as it hurts, you finally raise your gaze to meet his eyes. "Please d-don't hate me..."

Looking at him face-to-face makes you want to crumple to the floor and bawl. It looks as if he hasn't slept since the last time you saw him-- dark circles crescent under his eyes, his clothes are wrinkled, and his hair is loosely and hapharzardly pulled back. But more than that, he looks dumbfounded, like he's completely shocked that you're standing in front of him crying. It makes you feel even more pathetic, which only makes the tears continue.

"I don't--" Rolan reaches his hands out to you, thinks better of it, then retracts them to his chest, "I'd never hate you."

The earnestness in which he says it should make you feel better, but it does the opposite. By all rights, he should hate you-- who are you to stand here before him, blubbering and grovelling, when you're the one who took advantage of him? Resigning from your post was supposed to be a small penance from you to Rolan, but instead, he's comforting you. You're disgusted with yourself.

Your despair must be written on your face, because Rolan takes a step forward, his voice trembling around the edges as he speaks.

"Y-you know, I had assumed... that you were here to yell at me. To tell me what a horrible man I am." Rolan lets out a short, nervous laugh, "I was fully prepared to take a punch or two."

He thought that you were mad at him? The thought is so absurd that you find your tears stopping as you stare at him, surely mirroring his dumbfounded expression from earlier.

"You'd have every right to, you know." Rolan continues, his jaw tightening as he straightens his arms by his sides, "To think I'm terrible. To hate me, even. Because what I did to you..."

"It wasn't your fault," You cut him off with a croak, wiping at your eyes with your sleeves, "You weren't yourself. But me, th-there was nothing controlling me...It was my responsibility, b-but I--"

"Stop." Rolan's voice raises, anger lighting his eyes, "Stop trying to take the blame for this. You are not the one at fault here!" He stares hard at you for a few moments before his shoulders slump and the tension in his face melts away, leaving him looking tired and small. Vulnerable, even. And his voice falls too, nothing more than a whisper. "There were times of clarity...times where I could have fought against it. If I had tried harder, I could have stopped a dozen times over. But there was a part of me, a part not influenced by the potion, that didn't want to fight it." A thread of anger edges it's way back to his words, but now you understand that it's edge isn't pointed at you. "So yes, it is my fault. I'm a terrible...horrible man."

You don't know what the right thing to do is-- in such an unprecedented situation, you're not sure if there even is a 'right thing'. But seeing Rolan standing before you, askew in both looks and mind, there's only one thing you can fathom doing, damned if it's wrong or right.

Rolan stiffens as you rush forward and throw your arms around him. Your heart hammers fast and loud in your ears and you feel breathless at your own bold action that seemed to come out of nowhere, but there's no way in the nine hells that you're going to let go.

"You're not horrible," You say against his chest, voice tight and runny as your tears begin anew, "N-not in the slightest. So don't s-say such things."

Rolan's body trembles in your embrace and you worry that he might try to push you away. After a few long seconds, though, he wraps his arms around you and returns the hug.

"I'm sorry," Rolan squeezes you tight as he says it, and you wonder if it has to do with how watery his voice sounds, "For putting you through that...f-for hurting you."

The vulnerability of it all makes is terrifying, but it's also liberating. A moment of pain and sorrow shared between the two of you--it's a feeling more intimate than sex.

"I wanted it." The confession falls from your lips without a thought, and you know that you've crossed a boundary that you'll never be able to return from, for better or worse. "I wanted to hear those things from you. To have you touch me...I wanted all of it."

Rolan lets out a choked noise above you and you feel his chest hitch. "D-don't lie to me."

"I'm not." You hold him tighter, as if trying to still your trembling muscles. "Having you need me in such a way, even if it was fake...I was happy."

You can feel every inch of the shiver that runs through Rolan's body. His chin touches the side of your forehead in something close to a cuddle as the hands on your back slide down, nearly cradling your hips.

"If you're being honest...I'd like to say something." You can hear Rolan swallow thickly before continuing, voice hushed and hesitant, "But please, you musn't think any less of me."

You try to pull away, wanting to see his face as he speaks, but the fingers on your waist dig in, as if begging you to stay in place. Curious, nervous, you comply.

"I'd never think less of you."

Rolan heaves in a deep breath and lets it out slowly, the warmth of it tickling the top of your ear. "I..." He starts his sentence, stops, then starts again. "The potion. I took it."

"Took it?" You were determined to stay silent and let him say his piece, but your confusion gets the better of you.

"I drank it." You feel Rolan's body tense as he inhales sharply again, letting the rest of his words fall out on his exhale, "I knew you'd be coming, and I wanted to-- it was only a small sip, I thought it would give me a push, just enough to be honest, confident--to say the things I was too cowardly to say. But it was potent, far more potent than I had realized--"

You can't think, can't breathe. A blanket of surrealness falls over you, making everything around you feel padded and dreamlike. Because this must be a dream, right? Your tired mind has supplied this sweet little scenario for you, has tailored it to your wildest imagination.

But the shaking man in your arms isn't a dream, as much as it seems. The hurried, scared breaths puffing against your hair are real, as are the hands, anxiously holding you tight. If those things are real, then the words Rolan has said...the confession he has laid at your feet must be real as well.

The courage it took for him to admit to such a thing seems to seep into you, and you find yourself pulling your head back, forcing him to finally confront you. His eyes are glassy and drying tear streaks shine against the hollows of his cheeks. He looks devastated, terrified-- and more beautiful than you've ever seen him.

This is Rolan. Not your crush. Not the wizard. Not the older brother. Not the owner of Ramazith's Tower. This is him, stripped bare, beyond titles and prestige and pomp. This is Rolan, raw and true and baring himself to you.

You kiss him. It's a stark contrast to the kiss shared just days before-- it's clumsy, nervous, hesitant. But that's what makes it so grand. The insecurities that Rolan had tried to hide behind a potion are all there, beneath your lips, your fingers. Every brush and breath sings of honesty, of a flourishing love that threatens to build into something momentous-- of the terror such a thing could bring. The enormity of the unknown.

But as Rolan's hands relax on your hips, as his lips part and soften on your own, you know that he's offering you a chance to explore that unknown together.

And you couldn't be happier.