Chapter 2: Scissor Me Timbers 💅🔥

Jahkiah couldn’t breathe.

Not in the I’m having a cute little asthma attack way — no. She couldn’t breathe because Sahara, a literal demon/alpha/billionaire/mafia overlord/fanfiction reader, had her pinned against the wall like a sparkly limited-edition Build-a-Bear. Her nails scraped against Jahkiah’s waist like she was unwrapping a forbidden snack.

“You smell like strawberry lip gloss,” Sahara whispered, voice thick with hunger. “And… poor decision making.”

Jahkiah blinked. Twice. “Did you just teleport into my room?”

Sahara chuckled, deep and feral. “Teleport? Baby, I materialized. There’s a difference.”

Lightning cracked outside. Inside, the air was spicy — like hot Cheetos and queer tension.

⸻

Cut to 3 hours earlier: Sahara’s POV.

She had found her.

The chaotic little gremlin girl who wrote mafia x reader fanfic with lines like:

“He stared at me with cold, murderous eyes. I stared back like a confused possum on MDMA.”

Sahara was obsessed. She wasn’t sure if she wanted to kidnap Jahkiah, kiss her, or recruit her for a heist involving sapphic artifacts stolen from the Vatican.

“Pull the files,” she ordered her assistant, a genderless shadow demon named Glen. “I need everything. Age. Astrology chart. Favourite boba order.”

“She’s a Gemini,” Glen said.

Sahara’s eye twitched. “Of course she is.”

She needed to see her. Touch her. Possibly toss her over her shoulder and carry her into the night like a butch cryptid.

So she activated the ancient demonic spell known only as ‘Scissora Summona Maxima.’

And now here she was. In Jahkiah’s room. Hungry. Dangerous. Curious.

⸻

Back to Jahkiah

“So… are you here to kill me or…?” Jahkiah asked, somehow managing to hold a cup of bubble tea and a cat-ear headband in one hand, trying to look nonchalant. Her voice cracked on the last syllable like a haunted flute.

Sahara took one slow step forward.

“I’m here,” she growled, “because you’ve been writing about me.”

Jahkiah’s soul left her body, came back, and left again.

“I—um—” she stammered, “I may or may not have written a 98k slow burn enemies-to-lovers-to-scissor-sisters AU about you…”

“You made me cry in chapter 19.”

“That wasn’t me, that was angst! It was character development!”

“You made me DIE.”

“You came back! It was a resurrection trope!”

Sahara’s lips curled. She was enjoying this. The way Jahkiah squirmed. The way she defended her spicy little fanfiction like it was her thesis. The way her energy radiated disaster bisexual in a way that could topple empires.

Sahara moved even closer. They were toe to toe now. Boob to boob. Hormone to hormone.

“I’m gonna ask this once,” Sahara whispered, voice sin soaked. “Are you ready to be written into the story?”

Jahkiah dropped her boba. “What does that mean???”

“It means…” Sahara’s voice dropped to a sinful purr. “Put on your combat boots, babygirl. You’re coming with me to the underworld.”

Suddenly — BOOM.

A red portal burst open behind Sahara. Inside was a swirling hellscape of lesbians in power suits, hellhounds wearing collars that said “BABYGIRL,” and flaming swords made of shattered TikToks.

“…Okay,” Jahkiah blinked. “That’s kinda slay.”

“Get in, loser,” Sahara smirked. “We’re rewriting fate.”

Jahkiah didn’t think. She grabbed her Hello Kitty purse, adjusted her lip gloss, and jumped into the portal like it was a Sephora sale.

⸻

Later… in the Demon Mafia Underworld

The demon realm was hotter than the time Jahkiah accidentally put Tiger Balm on her inner thighs.

Sahara strutted through her throne room like sin incarnate, dragging Jahkiah behind her by the wrist. The demon guards stared. Some drooled. A succubus in the corner fainted from sheer sapphic energy.

“WHO. IS. THAT.” one whispered.

“That’s the fanfic girl,” another hissed.

“…She looks like she’d cry during scissoring.”

“I would,” Jahkiah muttered. “And I’d write a 20k enemies-to-lovers fic about it.”

Sahara turned to her, eyes glowing. “Welcome to your initiation.”

“My what—”

Sahara pushed her onto the demon throne. Climbed on top. Inches from her lips.

“The moment you wrote about me,” Sahara purred, straddling her like a dragon claiming treasure, “you summoned me. Now I’m here to collect.”

“To collect what?”

Sahara leaned in, her fang grazing Jahkiah’s lip.

“…My little author.”

Jahkiah was not like the other girls.

She was worse.

Waking up at 3:43PM sharp, still wearing her “I <3 MILFs” crop top and last night’s glitter lashes stuck to her cheekbone like a war wound, she yawned and stretched—delicately, like a raccoon caught in the act of crime. She checked her phone.

7 missed calls from Mom

12 messages from “Toxic Ex 😘🚩”

1 new Wattpad comment on “Alpha Omega Mafia Mommy 🥵💋”

She smiled. Validation.

With one hand shoved into a half-empty bag of hot Cheetos and the other furiously scrolling TikTok, Jahkiah’s eyes widened when she appeared on her FYP.

Tall. Dangerous. Velvet black hair with bloody tips. Gold piercings that spelled out “S-L-A-Y”. A jawline sharp enough to slice through the patriarchy. And a voice that made your uterus apply for citizenship in hell.

“My name’s Sahara. I run this city. And if you cross me, I’ll make you wish you stayed in your mommy’s womb.”

Jahkiah dropped her phone. Literally. It hit her on the face. She gasped.

“OH MY GOD… it’s her. My Wattpad crush… my alpha demon mafia sugar mommy.” Her legs twitched. Her soul left her body. Her p***y said let’s go girls like Shania Twain.

And little did she know…

Sahara was also watching her.

⸻

Sahara, age unknown (but milf-coded), POV

Sahara leaned back on her throne made of vintage sapphic erotica novels and literal bones. Her minions trembled around her as she licked the blood off her champagne flute. Business had been handled. Arms deals, nightclub takeovers, corrupt judges bribed.

But something… something was missing.

She opened her secret app—Wattpad. Username: @demonmommy6969

There it was. A new chapter. Same trashy pick-me energy. Same unhinged main character. Same overly dramatic prose. And she was obsessed.

“Jahkiah walked into the mafia headquarters like she owned the place. Wearing pink heels and chewing strawberry gum, she whispered, ‘Daddy? Sorry. Mommy? Sorry.’ The guards fainted. Everyone died. She was iconic.”

Sahara’s clawed hand tightened around her phone.

“…Who is this girl… why do I want her to write fanfiction about us. Why do I want to devour her like a cursed mango?”

She stood up, coat flowing dramatically. “Track her. Now.”

⸻

Back to Jahkiah

Jahkiah was mindlessly writing her next chapter—something about a gunfight in a lesbian strip club when she got a DM.

From: @demonmommy6969

“Hey. You write well. But I bet your mouth writes even better.”

Jahkiah screamed. Out loud. Her roommate banged on the wall.

“I’M FINE,” she yelled, humping the air slightly. “I’M JUST BEING VALIDATED BY A DEMON DADDY. I MEAN—MOMMY. I MEAN—GIRL.”

Her reply was instant:

“OMG STOP 😳 u read my stories???? I thought no one liked them 🥺 I’m literally shaking my a** rn”

Seconds later, Sahara replied:

“Let me see.”

Jahkiah sent the video. (Not that one. But almost.)

⸻

Suddenly her lights flickered. Her room grew hot. The air thickened with brimstone and Chanel No. 5. A red glowing circle burned into the carpet.

And then—

SAHARA APPEARED. IN THE FLESH. DRIPPING IN LEATHER.

Jahkiah froze. Sahara smirked. The room smelled like danger and girlboss ambition.

“You summoned me,” Sahara purred.

“I—I just posted fanfiction,” Jahkiah whimpered, heart racing like a horse girl on Red Bull.

“And now I’m here to make it reality.”

Sahara pushed Jahkiah against the wall. Inches away. Breath mingling. A fang grazed Jahkiah’s bottom lip. Her knees said “nah, girl” and gave out.

“You wanted an alpha?” Sahara whispered. “You got one.”

And then… the chapter ends.

Jahkiah didn’t know whether to scream, moan, or log this entire experience into her private Notes app titled “Horny Lesbian Dreams I’ll Never Admit To.”

Because Sahara — demon warlord, mafia matriarch, walking gay panic — was straddling her.

On a throne.

In hell.

With claws grazing her thigh like she was a cinnamon roll made of thirst and chaos.

“You’re trembling,” Sahara whispered, low and lethal.

“I—uh—I’m just cold,” Jahkiah squeaked, despite the surrounding flames of eternal damnation licking the walls like hell was sponsored by Nando’s Extra Hot™ sauce.

Sahara smirked. Her fingers danced slowly down Jahkiah’s arm, leaving a trail of fire and gay regret.

“I know what you want, Jahkiah.”

“You do?” she gasped.

“Yes,” Sahara purred. “You want plot with just enough smut to make your readers question their morals.”

Jahkiah’s brain blue-screened. “…HOW DID YOU KNOW.”

Sahara leaned down, their lips nearly touching. “I read your work.”

A long silence.

Then—

“Oh my god,” Jahkiah groaned, face turning red, “You read Chapter 7, didn’t you?!”

“I did.”

“THAT WASN’T CANON, IT WAS A CRACK FIC—”

“In which I use my demon tail to—”

“STOPPPP!”

Sahara only laughed, throat deep and rich like a cursed espresso. She ran a claw along Jahkiah’s bottom lip. “You’re even cuter when you’re embarrassed.”

“I’m gonna throw up. But like… romantically.”

And then Sahara grabbed her hand.

“Let me show you what fanfiction can’t capture,” she whispered, before pressing Jahkiah’s palm to her chest — directly over her black, demon-glowing heart.

It was beating hard. Fast. Wild.

Jahkiah blinked. “Are you… nervous?”

“Don’t flatter yourself,” Sahara muttered. “I’m a seven-thousand-year-old war goddess.”

“Yeah well, I’m a 21-year-old Gemini with attachment issues and a Tumblr archive.”

Suddenly — CRASH.

The throne room doors burst open.

A masked assassin in red stilettos stormed in, twirling twin daggers like lesbian batons.

“I’VE COME TO KILL THE QUEEN AND STEAL HER THRONE!”

Jahkiah blinked. “Oh my god, is that your ex?”

Sahara sighed. “Yes. That’s my ex-wife. She’s a Sagittarius. Don’t engage.”

But Jahkiah had already stood up.

She reached into her Hello Kitty purse, pulled out a bedazzled pepper spray can, and blasted it directly into the assassin’s face.

The assassin screamed.

“IS THAT… STRAWBERRY?”

“It’s custom,” Jahkiah smiled sweetly. “Limited edition lesbian defense.”

Sahara stared at her, stunned. A little bit turned on.

“…You’re unhinged.”

“You summoned me, mommy,” Jahkiah winked.

The assassin retreated, screaming and cursing in ancient Latin (and possibly French).

Jahkiah turned back to Sahara, chest heaving.

Sahara was already stalking toward her like a panther in Prada.

She grabbed Jahkiah by the collar and shoved her back onto the throne.

“You finger blasted my ex-wife with perfume,” she said, breathless.

“And I’d do it again.”

“I should destroy you.”

“You won’t.”

And then—finally—Sahara kissed her.

It was chaos. Tongues. Fangs. Lip gloss. Years of pent-up fanfic tension exploding like a slow-burn fic reaching the smut chapter after 120k words of yearning.

Jahkiah moaned into her mouth, clutching Sahara’s waist like a dying woman grabbing the last mozzarella stick.

Sahara growled against her lips. “You’re mine now, little writer.”

“Y-yeah. Okay. Cool. Mommy? Sorry? Mommy?”

They broke apart only when Glen, the demon assistant, awkwardly cleared their throat.

“There’s a war meeting in 10 minutes, boss.”

Sahara wiped her lips. “Cancel it.”

“But the fate of the underworld—”

“I said CANCEL IT.”

Jahkiah grinned, cheeks flushed, thighs quaking.

She whispered, “So… does this make me your canon love interest?”

Sahara’s eyes glowed crimson.

“Baby,” she smirked. “You just became endgame.”