Lie To Me (1)
A/N: Yep, another multi-part fic. Yep, no one asked me about this too. Yep, it’s still about Cordelia Goode x Reader. Yep, you can still ask or suggest stuff in the ask box.
Fuck!
This was the 6th time today that Cordelia tried to perform the re vera falsum - false reality. It shouldn’t be this hard especially now that she’s the Supreme. Somehow she can still find ways to fail and prove to her mother that she will never be as good as her.
re vera falsum is the careful alteration of reality, undetected by other witches. This must have been the last spell her mother used on the axeman before she sent him to his literal death. This is also the reason why she insists - obsessed - with learning how to do it.
She towered over Zoe, who willingly volunteered, and put all her intent into it. Her hands above the head of the seated witch, she began the incantation.
“re vera falsum,” her voice echoed in her head. She thought of a simple scenario where Zoe will think she ate hotdogs instead of cereals this morning.
She dropped her hand and asked Zoe, “What did you eat this morning?”
“Cordelia, you don’t have to try so much with this spell.” The young witch reassured her.
Make this the 7th time she failed today.
“I just think it would be valuable for the witches to learn this spell,” she reasoned. Zoe knew it was only one of the reasons her Supreme strive so hard but she’ll never voice it out.
“Okay,” Zoe paused to think for a while, “Well, I remember seeing in our records that there’s a witch in New York that specializes with this particular magic.”
Cordelia stiffened for a bit, trying to remember all of the witches who reside in the Big Apple. Someone who has the ability to alter reality without being as powerful as Fiona.
The charismatic witch who is often mistaken as Fiona’s daughter, due to her natural charm and self-confidence. The ambitious lady who walked out of the coven to achieve something bigger than casting spells and memorizing potion recipes. The frank, rational, and witty [y/n] who never called back nor gave a reason for leaving.
Cordelia excused Zoe, in order to think about her next course of action. It has been years since she last thought of you. She doesn’t even know why you left or why you suddenly stopped talking to her. One minute she was inviting you to her wedding then suddenly you were leaving the coven.
She sat in her office the whole day, trying really hard to get some work done but you keep entering her mind. The sly smiles you wear when you ace a spell the first try. The stolen glances she takes whenever you’re not looking. The aromatic whiff of your perfume that she can inhale whenever you’re close - too close. The kiss.
Oh, that kiss during New Year’s Midnight.
Cordelia can swear she died, flew to heaven, and came back during that time. What a way to start the new year? Instinctively, she bit her lip trying to remember the sensation of that encounter years ago. The way your lips fit or how she let out a moan ten seconds into the kiss. The more she thinks about it, the more hot and bothered she gets.
“Delia,” a voice took her out of her little trip down memory lane.
She composed herself and faced the voice, which turns out to be Zoe, standing by her office doorway.
“The girls are all settled in their rooms,” the witch continued. Cordelia thanked her, assuming that she’ll leave already. “Have you thought about the New York witch?”
“What?” the Supreme was caught off guard with the question. She was definitely thinking about the witch but not the way her council would imagine.
“Yeah. I think I’ll go see her,” she replied haphazardly. Did she even think about this?
Oh, she was thinking all right but definitely not that.
“Okay,” Zoe cheered. “Don’t worry. Queenie and I will handle the girls tomorrow.” She then bid her good night.
She didn’t say tomorrow, right? Suddenly, every part of Cordelia feels excited to meet an old lov friend.
The bright sun rays shone through your office in the middle of a New York day. Honestly, your kind of day. You just closed a multi-million dollar shipment deal and you deserve to celebrate.
You were just going over some papers that need to be signed by the end of the day when you felt a sudden surge of familiar power. Familiar but stronger. You looked up to see a blonde, whom you’ve never seen for years. Vowed to never see is actually the phrase to be used here.
“Hi!” The intruder greeted.
“Did you transmute here all the way from New Orleans?” you threw a disappointed look her way. She bit her lip and meekly nodded. You thought that old habits must die hard. “That’s risky,” you simply replied then continued your paper checking.
She took several steps forward before speaking again, “I need your help, [y/n].”
“No,” was your immediate response without looking up.
“You haven’t heard what I was going to ask?”
You annoyingly looked up to see her staring at you, quite intensely. “Do I have to?” She gave you a smile so familiar that you knew it means ‘of course’. “The last time I helped someone from that coven, I almost died.”
You didn’t mean to treat her with animosity but the sudden intrusion and lack of boundaries really put a dent on your good day. This is Cordelia. Your friend. You almost killed someone for her once upon a time. You just can’t help but use a brash attitude to hide the old feelings that are trying to claw its way out.
“Fiona,” you heard the witch mutter. You hummed in agreement.
“Called me last year and said she needed a place to stay in the metro.” You began to tell the story when she sat down on the chair in front of your desk. “I offered her one of my condo units but she insisted that she wants to stay with me. So we had fun for three straight days,” your face now turning sour, “up until the last day where she tried to kill me moments before she left.”
“I’m sorry about that,” the breathtaking witch in front of your said.
“So, no.” You once again declined. “I won’t help you with whatever it is.”
“But you always say yes to Fiona,” she commented that felt more like an accusation.
“I’m the supreme now,” her voice becoming higher.
“That’s different,” you replied, matching her voice. “You don’t have the same hold over me.”
“Then what does she have on you?” She stood, hoping to show dominance in the conversation.
Now, you’re really annoyed. If there’s one thing you don’t like, it’s being bossed around especially on your turf. “I’m not gonna tell you and it’s best for you to get out.” You stood up walked towards the door.
Suddenly, you heard the door locked and the glass panels darkened. The sun rays now replaced with the dim lights of the 4 lamps in your office corners. You stopped midway, ready to send her flying against the wall. Glass panels be damned.
“You are going to teach me re vera falsum and you’re going to do it now.” She firmly said. You audibly chuckled at the thought.
In your years of friendship at the academy, you were always the dominant one. She follows or agrees. She would speak her mind but later on admit that you were probably right. She’s straight even back then. Always knowing what’s black and white, while you prance around the grey area quite often. To see her today, after years of no contact, with absolute conviction and ready to fight her ground excited you a little bit.
You faced her again, this time with a smug grin on your face. You took your sweet time taking her in. The flowy dress that hugs her curves. The blonde hair that cascades past her shoulders, probably only blow-dried. Her hands are folded into fists. Her face clearly shocked by the sudden exhibition of her powers.
Cordelia is always well kept, thinking being prim and proper would get her mother’s approval. She spent most of your days together controlling her powers, not letting it get the best of her. Perhaps the only time she played outside her own rules was when she married that son of a bitch. Knowing how she hates being dismissed by her mother, you know the next words coming out of your mouth will piss her even more. A game that definitely excites you in more ways than one.
Cordelia demanded something. If it were any other witch in her academy, they would have given it to her already. This time, however, she can’t just get her way. It’s [y/n], after all. The only person who knows exactly how to push her buttons, and hopefully pop them off.
“You went through all that trouble just for a spell?” You said, breaking the silence. Cordelia swallowed hard. Hearing the voice you most often use with your lovers directed at her got her pressing her legs together. “It’s not a skill for every witch.” That seductive, low voice of yours take her 9 years back when she would love herself to sleep with you in mind. It’s not helping that you have a predatory look on your face as you come closer.
“I’m not every witch,” she replied almost in a trance.
“No, you’re not.” You pin her against the desk. “Tell me, Delia,” your stare alternating between her eyes and lips, “what would happen if I say no again?”
It was a challenge. Cordelia knew that. At this point, she’s no longer present but rather lost in your perfume and the way you hover over her. She can feel your breath on her skin and was about to k-
Your phone office rang, interrupting whatever it was that she was about to do. She shifted in her foot, trying to regain what’s left of her sanity. Cordelia came here for a reason yet somehow that reason is slowly going out of the window.
You reached for the phone without breaking eye contact with her and pressed the speaker button. “Miss [y/n], just reminding you of your 2:30,” your cheery assistant’s voice echoed through the room.
“Lily, cancel all my meetings for the rest of the day,” Cordelia remained transfixed on your face. “And make sure I’m not disturbed.” You didn’t give the other person a chance to respond as you end the call swiftly.
You returned your whole attention to the Supreme, who is not feeling so supreme right now. Pinned against your desk and allowing you to have this effect on her. A specific kind of heat coursing through her body.
“You were saying?” You teased, knowing full well that you saw how she almost lunged forward earlier. You licked your lips that caused Cordelia to gulp once again today. “It’s okay,” your voice returning to its normal range. “Turns out I have all day.”
