Alice should’ve have known something was up when she got a third call this week from Jen. She had already re did the shelf’s twice and re painted the wall in the bathroom three different shades of pink!? But normally when Alice would tell a client to wait a few weeks and make sure this isn’t just their anxiety talking. She grabbed her toolbelt and made her way into her truck.
When she got to the building she was genuinely happy with how the outside looked at this angle. Way different than it used to look when she started here about two weeks ago. The windows were new, she had gotten a maple oval door, and had started the frist few layers of new paint. She walked in as she looked around at the demolished interior with a sigh. “Jen?” She called out as she looked around peeking her head around walls.
“Jennifer? I’m here for the-“ Alice was cut off when she seen Jen on the stairs that lead up to the apartment above her building that was also being renovated. Alice was looking up at Jen who was on the second step from the ground. In a silk light pink robe that wasn’t tied enough to stay in place she seen peeks of white lace. Alice immediately looked away as her hands clinched around her belt and she coughed awkwardly.
“I-you..you um called about the cabinet placement?” Alice finally stammered out as she refused to meet the woman’s gaze.
Jen hummed as she picked at her nails “I must have forgot. I got a little distracted with my self care.” She looked down at Alice as she ran her nail along her robe. It pulling back slightly Alice’s eyes catching the floral lace again on her cleavage before turning away.
“I-it’s alright. Which cabinets was it again? The ones in the front or?” Alice swore she seen Jen’s eyes darken. Alice fidgeted with her hands as she followed Jen who didn’t even say a word. When they stopped in the room that’s going to be Jen lab and testing products.
“I need these over on the left instead of dead center. The table I have coming in won’t leave me enough space if they are right behind me.” Jennifer held her hand over towards the shelves with a look of disinterest. “Oh..yeah I can do that give me like thirty minutes!” Alice nodded once before stepping in-front of Jen and grabbing her drill from off her hip.
She set to work perfectly content with letting herself be lost in her focus. But she felt Jen’s eyes on her the whole time and her nerves were a mess. She finally got one of the shelves down and she went to set it on the ground to turn back and ask Jen where she would like it precisely. But before she could turn around two hands found her hips and pulled her back.
“Jen!?” Alice steady herself placing her hands on the wall. “Come on Alice..why are you acting like last week didn’t happen..” Jen tone was low as she pulled Alice back against her. “I-I didn’t..I though it was a one time thing and-“
“One time thing? Hun if it was one time I wouldn’t call you over here every other day trying to get you back in my bed.”
Jen hummed lowly as she squeezed Alice side. “Now I just need to know if you want this. I’ll let go and you can finish the cabinets just say the word.” Jen mumbled into Alice’s ear from behind. Jen waited a few minutes when she didn’t see Alice shake her head or tell her no she kissed the contractors shoulder pulling herself up. She reached around and laid her hand on Alice’s zipper as she felt something poking. “You really are always carrying anything you need..” she mumbled as she pressed down with slight pressure as Alice squirmed and a low whine left her throat.
“Let’s head upstairs luv.” Jen pulled her hands away grabbing Alice’s hand with a smirk that Alice knew meant she wouldn’t be leaving that bed for a while.
One of the earliest things Rebecca learns is Agatha always knows what to say. And on a calm, dark night, Rebecca's reflections on Agatha Harkness open a door she never considered.
Though I am very late, this was written for the @aaararepairszine ! Thank you again to those who threw this together, it is a real treat <3 I hope you all enjoy :)
Rating: General Audiences, Words: 675
An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works
Poly coven serial killer au (one of my contributors to @aaararepairszine !)
The house on Rosewood Lane didn’t look like a house that held five serial killers.It looked like something out of a cozy magazine spread—vines trained up trellises, a hand-painted mailbox, the faint scent of fresh lavender hanging in the air. Kids biked past it on their way to school. Couples walked dogs past the garden. No one ever suspected a thing.
Jennifer made sure of that.She answered the door with her soft smile, wore sundresses with just the right amount of cleavage, and hosted brunches that became the stuff of neighborhood legend. Jen knew how to fold napkins into swans and laugh like she’d never buried a man in pieces across state lines. That was her gift. She made rot and ruin look like grace.
At the dining table, Lilia flipped through the paper, eyes darting across headlines like she was scanning for a prophecy. Alice sat at her feet, carving slow designs into her bass guitar with a pocketknife—half lullaby, half threat.
“Rio,” Lilia murmured without looking up. “Last night’s disposal. I need to know you didn’t get sloppy.”
“I never get sloppy,” Rio said from the kitchen, voice smooth, amused. “And besides, Agatha was watching.”
“She was watching the fire escape,” Agatha said, without lifting her gaze from her laptop. “Not you. You slipped.”
“I slipped,” Rio echoed, like the word amused her. “Babe, I made it art.”Jen snorted softly, swirling her mimosa. “You left a shoe print in the alley. The detective with the sharp jaw saw it. He asked about it at the coffee shop.”Lilia looked up.Just a glance.Rio fell quiet. So did everyone else.
That was Lilia’s power stillness, silence, and a gaze that could flatten empires. She didn’t have to scream. She just looked. And they all remembered their places. What she held between them wasn’t fear, not quite. It was responsibility. Worship. Guilt.
“A shoe print?” Lilia asked, voice still soft.Jen glanced at Rio, as if to say don’t make it worse.Alice’s carving slowed.
“It won’t lead to us,” Rio said after a moment her dark eyes lowering to the ground. “It was controlled. I didn’t touch the body after.”
Agatha finally looked up, eyes dark and narrow. “We don’t get to make almost mistakes.”
“We don’t make statements unless it’s cleared,” Lilia added.
Rio sat back in her chair, mouth twitching upward, eyes glittering. “I was inspired.”
Agatha closed her laptop with a decisive snap and a scoff.“That’s not good enough,” she said. “You want to play the artist, get permission first. You don’t improvise. Not with bodies. Not with timeframes. And not with cops.”
There was tension now, but it wasn’t new. Not in this house. The way Agatha watched them with her eyes like a predator ready to witness a feast. Agatha loved conflict. She didn’t pretend otherwise. When the others got loud, when things unraveled, when one of them fucked up and another called it out, she was the one who leaned back and watched the sparks. She didn’t start the fire but she loved to feel the heat.
Lilia set her mug down and finally looked at Agatha.That’s when she went quiet.
Lilia didn’t like when they turned on each other. She didn’t stop it..not always. But she chose when it was useful.Lilia’s control was godtier. And they all knew it. If she disn’t
“Rio,” Lilia said. “Apologize.”
Rio met her eyes for one long second.
Then softly and so very reluctantly “I’m sorry.”
“For?” Lilia asked with thin lipped smile.
“For making a move without clearing it. For getting too close. It won’t happen again.” Rio grumbled like she was a scolded child.
Lilia nodded, satisfied. Her calm settled back over the house like a snowfall. Jen went back to sipping her drink. Agatha tapped out a new password. Alice resumed carving. Rio leaned against the counter, fingers drumming, quieter now.
“You’re still beautiful,” Rio said under her breath.
Lilia smirked faintly, but didn’t answer. She didn’t have to. They all lived off her approval like oxygen.
Later that day, Jen sat at her vanity, applying eyeliner with practiced precision. She hummed a soft tune—one she used to sing in the church where she’d been kept as a child. The cult had made her believe she was a vessel. They branded her at thirteen. Tried to break her mind, her body, her heart. But she might have been modeled into whatever the created but her lethal knowledge was still her own. Her way to love she carved herself.
Now, she smiled into the mirror, a picture of domestic poise. When Agatha appeared behind her, watching her reflection with those shadowed eyes, Jen didn’t flinch.
“You didn’t tell me about the detective,” Agatha said.
“I told Lilia.”
“You should have told me.”Jen turned slowly, lipstick in hand, smirk on her mouth. “And if I had, would you have stopped the kill?”“I might’ve,” Agatha said. “Or I might’ve joined.”
They stared at each other for a beat too long. Then Agatha reached out and tilted Jen’s chin up with two fingers. Jen didn’t pull away.“I like when you try to lie,” Agatha murmured. “It makes it so much sweeter when I see through it.”Jen leaned forward, almost brushing lips. “And I like when you think you’re in charge.”
Agatha smiled. “I am.”
“No,” Jen smirked as she looked up at Agatha . “You know your not. You impulsive. She doesn’t let you be in control.”
In the basement, Alice tuned her guitar.
The strings buzzed under her fingers, and the sharp scent of gasoline lingered faintly in the air—her comfort smell. She didn’t say much to the others unless spoken to. She didn’t ask questions. She didn’t need praise.
She’d set her mother’s house on fire after the woman refused to leave the bedroom. She waited till the screams stopped. Then she walked to the police station and sat on the curb till someone came.
Agatha found her that night.
“What are you doing down her hun?,” she’d said, kneeling in front of her. “Playing with fire?.” A playful smirk on her face. Agatha would never forget when she brought Alice home to them. The tired,wide eyed, sneering creature who swung her axe at Agatha, But when Agatha pinned her down and told her she could come home with her or she could be put out of her misery she could see Alice was in.
Alice had followed her home.
She’d never left.
Now, she ran her thumb along the edge of the bass, where she’d carved another name into the wood. Someone who screamed too loud, fought too long, and bled out on ceramic tile while Alice watched, head tilted like a curious pup.
And the only thing more dangerous than them loving each other was if they lost one another..
HUGE apologies to @multimilfs whose fic was not included in the original version</3 I accidentally marked it as added when it in fact, was not. PLEASE go check out their Rebecca/Agatha fic! and reblog this version around
