So yes... Another OC story. Sorry not sorry. I will update my other stories sometime... after AP testing when I can actually sit down to write seriously, instead of just for an hour or so every night on my phone. Which is how I write these stories. So I apologize for any mistakes and stuff like that.
Aside from that, Shae and Chris belong to me, Quinn belongs to MortalShadowhunter, and Leo belongs to SilverJem5. Sorry if it's not an accurate representation of their characters. I TRIED.
THIS STORY IS RATED M FOR A REASON. DO NOT READ IF YOU WILL GET MAD AT ME FOR WRITING SUGGESTIVE CONTENT. THANK YOU.
Fifty Shades Of Shae
Fifteen: A Flash Of Time
She pulled the heavy blankets off her body, slipping out of the bed and landing lightly on the cold floor beneath her bare feet. Picking up her bra, she quickly slipped it on, fastening the hooks.
As she heard a small movement from the opposite side of the bed, she turned around, freezing in her spot.
"Shae," the boy whispered, rolling over slightly, but not waking. He was only talking in his sleep, his features soft in the light spilling in from the window.
"Go back to sleep," she sighed, leaning over and placing a hand on his cheek, waiting for him to fall back into a deeper slumber.
When he did, she put on her shorts, sans underwear, and threw her shirt over her head. The room was chilly and for a second, she wished she had brought a jacket, but then she patted her pocket, realizing she could just put a thermis rune on when she got out of his apartment.
Her underwear, she left in the place where she had pretended to sleep, and she traced her index finger over his cheek one last time, before making her way out the door, and into the night air.
She never liked to stay the night, to make them think that their night had actually meant something.
She only also hated to be forgotten.
The Institute she lived in was aloud with the sound of a wild party inside, and she walked inside, seeing werewolves, warlocks, faeries and of course, Shadowhunters inside. The vampires stayed in an area outside that wasn't sacred ground, and the party spread to there and back.
"Shae!" Peyton yelled, running up to her, a glass of wine in one hand, and her hair a tangled mess, as if she had slept on it for too many days. "Where have you been? It's been so awesome here! There's this cute guy in the backyard. Come meet him!"
"i just got back," she laughed, running her hand through her own hair and following her friend. "You know that guy I was talking about that was sort of cute? Well he's good. Good for a werewolf, I mean. Not like... Super good. But still good."
"I knew you were with someone! It better have been the best night of his life," Peyton teased. "But this guy... Maybe you'll get it twice tonight?"
"Don't you want him? I feel like I should share, " she smirked. " You should get some action sometimes, as well."
"He's okay. You know I'm particular."
"Very true. I'll go see what he's like."
She didn't hate what she had become after a year at the new Institute.
The young man's breath smelled of hard alcohol as she sidled up to him, willing to give any guy at least a little bit of a chance. He smelled of something heavy, not the cheap yet light wine that Peyton had been drinking. His clothes were rumpled, and his forehead covered in a layer of sheen sweat.
"Hey baby," he slurred, setting his hands at her hips as he leaned in, invading her personal space without a bit of hesitation. "It's nice to see some attractive pieces of work around here."
Straightening slightly, she placed her hands flat on his chest, trying to look politely interested, while also keeping him at a safe distance from her.
Grinning, he slipped his thumbs past her waistband, raising an eyebrow with mirth when he realized the obvious. "No underwear. I like that."
Shae rolled her eyes, and could see that, probably when he wasn't inebriated, he might have been a very attractive, good looking man, with his curly jet black hair, wide dark brown eyes, and impressive build.
But the way he fell against her and forgot to tongue his words made her feel like she was about to throw up on him.
She hated the ugly drunkenness that alcohol caused.
"Don't touch me," she scowled, pushing from him after a few minutes, when his too friendly hands moved much too low and and she became uncomfortable. His breath made her sick and the pounding in her head made her want to close her eyes.
"What's wrong, sugar?" he said, his eyes cloudy and unfocused. "Want to just save all the excitement for later tonight, when I get you alone?"
"You would never," she replied proudly, turning away from him with a slight smile. "I'm much too hot for you."
"That's not true," Peyton said, cutting in and slipping a hand around her friend's shoulder. She appeared to have forgotten her earlier words, as she stared at the boy like he was the only other in the room. Under her breath, she turned to Shae. "I changed my mind. He's sort of hot..."
"All yours," she smirked. She moved over so her arm was no longer on her shoulder. "I think I'll be heading out soon, anyway."
"What? But it's like... Two... Three...?"
"I have somewhere to be," she assured her, and quickly made her way from the room, avoiding looking back and seeing the two all over each other both in their drunk state of mind.
She really just hated drunk people sometimes.
"You want anything?" the waiter asked, standing at the edge of the table and looking down at her with interest. "A drink or coffee or soda? Food, perhaps? It's awfully late."
"Coffee, please," she said, looking up at him through her heavily mascaraed eyelashes, and she could see his mouth fall open a little bit. She gave him a seductive smile.
He nodded, blushing and running off to the kitchen to fulfill her order.
Shae would admit, she loved the effect that she found she had on men sometimes. The power of having them at her feet, wanting to do almost anything for her. She just had to know which ones to pick.
The waiter came back soon, falling over himself. After thanking him, she waved to the other side. "Sit down. I'd like some company." He sat willingly.
Telling him about her night, though she carefully left out the adventures in the earlier boy's bed, he listened attentively, and she kept talking, knowing that she could probably start talking about bananas and he wouldn't notice.
"Have plans after your shift?" She asked nonchalantly, raising her cup to her lips and sipping delicately. "If not, we could hang out."
She swore that his eyes nearly bulged out of his head. "No, I don't. Is my place okay?"
"It's perfect," she grinned brightly, placing a hand on his forearm, over the table. "We can have lots of fun."
She hated how much she loved the game.
Sixteen: The Year Told In Flashbacks
"Happy Birthday Shae!" Peyton yelled, carrying out a giant cake from the kitchen, adorned with gold roses and gold script, just like the color of her eyes. "You're finally sixteen!"
Shae smiled, a genuine smile, quickly blowing out the candles on the giant cake, and Peyton cut it, eager to have cake on one of the special occasions that she allowed herself to eat carbs. "I also got you a present."
Taking a piece of the white cake and a fork, Shae raising an eyebrow. "Aww. You didn't have to."
"Oh, don't worry about it. You're going to love it," she laughed producing a large gift wrapped box from behind the couch. "Open it!"
She did, producing a pair of metal handcuffs, the key inside the box. Holding both up, she glanced at Peyton. "I have no wish to lock myself up."
"Not for you, silly, for any guys you get it on with," she giggled, cutting a piece of cake for herself. "Wouldn't that be fun?"
Perhaps, Shae thought, imagining the possibilities, and immediately liking them. "Thanks," she laughed, tucking them back in the box. "I'll put them to good use."
It might have been the beginning of something, it might have been the end of something else.
Whatever it was, she loved it.
"I'm going to lock you up with these," Shae said to the boy sitting across from her in his room. She had pulled out the handcuffs, and had watched as his eyes widened with what, fear? "But don't worry. It won't hurt."
"Are you sure?" he asked nervously, "I don't know if I like the idea of being handcuffed."
Sighing inwardly, she leaned forward, slipping a hand around to the back of his neck, pulling him close to her. Her lips met his, and instantly, all tension was gone.
Easy, right?
Slipping her hands around his back, she made quick to latch the cuffs together, and he pulled away in surprise. "What? Damn. You're smooth," he said, a hint of awe in his voice.
"Practice," she winked, pushing him back on the bed, placing her fingers across his fly and unzipping it. "But don't worry. I'm safe."
She saw the worry still in his eyes, and leaned down, placing a hand over his heart, saying with fake promise." I wouldn't hurt you. I swear."
He seemed to relax, letting her take charge and do her thing, knowing that he would probably never forget what happened that night.
She loved the marks the she made.
"I've never done this before," she whispered to the new young man who was half wrapped around her, his eyes slightly closed as he regarded her with a curious expression.
"Are you sure about this?" he asked, sliding his hand from her waist lower, and then a little lower.
"I'm sure," she agreed, handing him the foil square. "And I'm always up for trying new things. Aren't you?"
"Definitely," he said, turning around and taking care of business. "I'm glad that you chose me."
"I'm glad as well." Laughing, she pulled her and over one shoulder, picking at her split ends. "You seem like a nice guy."
"Of course," he agreed, pulling her to him and vice versa.
Afterwards, her held her in his arms. She decided not to complain about the heat, staying in his grip, though it was terribly uncomfortable.
"We should do this again," he smiled against her hair, nuzzling the back of her head.
"Sure. That would be nice. I'll give you a call if so," she teased, rolling over in his arms, kissing him gently on the nose. "Good night."
"Sweet dreams."
She especially loved the lies.
"Not so hard," she complained, rubbing her backside. "I sort of need to sit on that, you know."
"Sorry," the boy apologized, easing up a substantial amount. "You said you wanted it rough."
"You're a little too much," she teased, weaving her hands through his hair. "And that belt just has a sharp bite to it. Don't worry. It's not just you."
"Are you staying tonight?"
She never stayed the night. For as long as she lived, she couldn't remember or even imagine staying the night with a guy whom she had slept with.
"No. I have somewhere to be very early in the morning," she lied, giving him a small smile, before suggesting, "But since I can't, we can go one last time before I have to leave?"
His grin said it all, happy at the potential prospect of getting laid yet once again. " That's fine with me. In fact, it's more than fine. I would hate for my girlfriend to walk in."
"I'm not wearing running shoes," she yawned, and agreed, "That's would be a bad thing."
"Ready?" he asked, climbing over her.
"Sure."
She realized that she really did love it rough.
"Get away from me!" she screamed, pushing the guy off her, watching him fall to the floor, disoriented and confused. His clothes reeked of beer, and it made her gag.
Standing back up, he started towards her, his arms reaching out to wrap around her. "Come on, baby. I know you want it," he said, his words slurred and almost unrecognizable. "No one can resist my charm."
Rolling her eyes, she changed her mind suddenly, turning to him and taking his arms in hers, pulling him close and trying not to let onto how disgusted she felt.
She really disliked alcohol.
"You're sort of cute," she told him, pulling him to her as he came more than willingly. Her bad slipped to her back pocket, pulling out a pair of metal handcuffs without him noticing.
Pressing a chaste kiss to his mouth, she leaned down, clicking one side around the table leg. Feigning an expression of extreme passion, she pulled him to the floor, one hand creeping up his shirt as she tried to ignore his wandering hands.
Then, quick as a bolt of lightning, she slipped his hand into the other side, latching it around. His eyes flew open, and she stood up, self satisfied. "There. Have fun getting out of that, you drunk bastard."
Leaving, she turned around and stuck her tongue out at him. Handcuffs really could come in handy.
She loved the hate that she felt.
Seventeen: A Story To Be Remembered
"How old are you?" the waiter asked, leaning over the bar with a slight quirk, playing at his lips. "Not a day over eighteen, I'd guess."
"Seventeen," she smiled, gazing at him under her eyelashes and pursing her lips slightly. She could see him falling before her eyes.
Some people were just so damn naive.
"I guessed it," he said, proud of himself. She could see him internally giving himself a high five. "You're much too young and beautiful to be old."
"And what's it to you? Are you wondering if I'm over the age?" She asked, tapping her fingernails on the table, making a thin drumming sound. "Worried of the consequences?"
"Of course not," he laughed, his eyes alight with mirth. "What's life if it's not for living?"
"Now you sound like a rapist," she challenged, looking him straight in the eye as she took a sip from her drink, which was only a light beer. She never liked the heavy drinks.
"I'll show you something hard. And something high." he said, nodding to the drink in her hand. "If you'd like."
"No need to impress," she said, rolling her eyes. "You've already got me."
She loved the banter.
"This is my place," he said, throwing his arm out as if he was introducing something spectacular. And it wasn't a bad place, not really at least, but there was much left to the imagination. "Like what you see?"
"Very," Shae smirked, curling her hand over his arm and giving it a gentle squeeze. "Where's the bedroom?"
"Down the hall," he replied, raising an eyebrow at her. "But that's the treat at the end. Right now, I thought we could have some fun."
"Fun? What do you have in mind?"
"You'll see," he said, turning to her and placing his hands at her hips. As he pulled her to him, she pulled the belt from her dress, and slipped her hands around his back, binding them gently but firmly.
His eyes widened, yanking at the restraints without avail. His confidence was gone, and he looked slightly scared. "What's that for? Why did you bind my wrists? "
She leaned in, her lips by his ear, and her breath hot on his skin. "What do you think? It's really quite simple."
"... You're kidnapping me?"
"No!"
"Then what are you doing?"
"Having dessert."
Sometimes, she loved how stupid people were.
"Good?"
"Really good," he murmured, pulling her to him, and she didn't push him away. Not yet, at least. Yawning, he turned to her, his normally bright eyes dark and sleepy. "The best, maybe."
"I aim to be the best," she smirked, dragging her fingertips across his stomach, going slowly lower and lower. "Don't worry. You're not so bad yourself."
He laughed, and she had to admit, his laugh was infectious. " Thanks. I'm glad to hear it. I was worried. I mean... You're so experienced... And I'm not."
She ran her other hand through his messy blonde hair, and pressed her lips to his." Don't worry about it," she replied, her golden eyes lighting up as she smiled at him.
"Can you stay?" the boy asked with wide eyes, looking innocent and hopeful at the same time.
"No," she replied, turning to him and cupping his face with her hands. "I don't stay nights. I have to be back soon. I think they're probably waiting up for me."
"Aww. Okay. Do you want me to walk you to your house?" he asked then, his smile falling, but his gentlemanly instincts kicking in. "It's really late."
"I'm fine," she replied, brushing his hair back from his eyes. "Don't worry about me."
He nodded, relaxing and seemed to fall asleep, so she quickly made her getaway.
She always had loved to leave.
Walking back to the Institute in a skirt without underwear was rather unpleasant. At least, there wasn't wind, which would have made it awkward for any other people walking the streets late at night. But still, she was cold.
"Where were you?" Peyton asked, her hair a mess and her outfit screwed up as she looked up from the couch when Shae came through the front doors. "It was so awesome today. I met this guy, and we're going to see each other again tomorrow."
"Just for sex?"
"Isn't that why you see guys? I don't see anything wrong with it," she defended without being asked. "Besides. He's like, really really hot. And good in bed, er, on the couch."
"I'm going to get a different pair of handcuffs," she sighed. "Maybe I'll lock you two together since you agreed to see each other more than once. Then you can stare at each other forever, while I go about doing whatever I want."
"I don't see why you don't ever agree to see the guys you sleep with again."
"It's just so awkward. Don't you think? It's like, offering them another chance to sleep with you," she replied. "And besides. Anyone is a loser to think they can get me back."
Yes, she also loved winning.
Later, in her room, she turned to the brown haired boy. "I don't usually go for Shadowhunters... But I've been having a bad day. And I need to let off steam. Are you up for it?"
The boy nodded, raising an eyebrow and giving her a wicked smile. He was so eager, that it almost bothered her. But not really.
"Put your hands up," she said, and locked a pair of handcuffs around his wrists, then took another and looped them around the first pair, hooking him to the bed. "Comfy?"
"No," his choked whisper was, from his uncomfortable position. She leaned over to fix them so he could sit more comfortably. "Thanks. Better now."
She climbed over him, smacking him rather roughly on the cheek when his eyes traveled far down her body. "Don't stare. Not that like, I blame you. But it's very rude."
"Yes, Shae," he replied, closing his eyes, and leaning his head back. She could see that he was trying not to succumb to her and stare.
"Tell me if it hurts," she commanded, stabbing him in the chest with her index finger. "And I'm think about making it better."
He nodded, though he didn't look in pain. Pleasure, maybe. But far from not wanting what she was doing to him.
Definitely, she loved the power.
Eighteen: Moments Of Realization
"I have to move to the New York Institute?" She asked, her eyes staring at the paper in front of her. "Why? This isn't fair!"
"They know," Peyton sighed. "The Clave knows about the parties. We haven't hid them well enough."
"That's Hell," she swore, crumpling the paper in her hands "It's so obvious, the parties. I'm surprised they didn't notice after the first one."
"You're eighteen," Peyton reminded her. "You can go wherever you want. I can't. I turn eighteen in a month. And I've been sent to the London Institute."
Shae sighed, running her hands through her hair. "I don't know where else I would go. I don't do backups. I've always just don't what I wanted."
"For the past three years, at least," she shrugged. "Give it a try. Just be lucky that you aren't me. I'm supposed to portal over there today. Keep in touch, okay?"
"I will," she promised. "As long as you promise to visit sometime. And bring over any guy that you find remotely attractive."
"I promise. Besides. Who's going to be as fun as you there?"
"Find a prostitute," she suggested, openly insulting herself, but she was too distracted to care. "I have to get ready to leave."
"Miss you, Shae," Peyton said, giving her a quick hug. "I'll text you."
"Definitely."
She really, really, hated leaving her new life.
"Hard brandy, please," she said, leaning over the bar, tired and annoyed. New York was pretty, but the city lacked what she was used to. The streets filled with bars and clubs, people willing to get some wherever.
"Sure, miss," the bartender said, getting her what she asked for, placing the glass in front of her. "Will that be all?"
"For now, yes," she said, picking up the glass and wiping a bit of condensation from the bottom. "How much will that be?"
"On the house for a gorgeous gal like you," he flirted, giving her the eye and a flirty smile. "Consider it my treat."
"Oh, thanks," she replied, distracted.
"Do you have plans for later tonight?"
"No. I don't," she said honestly. "But really. I'm not interested right now. All I want to do is get blackout drunk and go home and throw up," she scowled, looking up at him through her lashes. "So, would you like me to pay?"
He couldn't hide the disappointment in his eyes. "No. It's fine. Do you need a ride to your house? If you plan to get drunk, I'm not sure that driving is your best bet."
"Leave me alone," she scoffed, turning away from him and taking a gulp of the bitter liquid. "I don't need your sympathy."
She hated the cloudy feeling of being drunk.
"I have to leave now," she said, pushing the boy off her chest, jumping out of the bed, yanking on her clothes, and frowning as he came after her. "Really. I have to get back."
"Couldn't you stay a little longer?" he asked, giving her puppy dog eyes. "Are you up for round two?"
"I'm not in the mood," she yawned, slipping on her shirt over her head, patting her hair down. "I forgot, I have somewhere to be."
He wrapped his arms around her, pressing his lips to hers. "Just a little longer?"
She only wanted to get away.
Taking his wrists, she kissed him back, holding both hands behind his back, and placing her other hand on his waist. Days of yearning, seeking for control had taught her well. She moved backwards, and before he knew what had happened, she had tied him to the bed.
"What's this for?" he asked, pulling at the restraints. It was a scene she remembered vividly.
"Leave it be. If you keep moving, it'll loosen," she said, making her way to the door, bending down to retrieve her last piece of clothing. "Bye now."
She slipped through the door, but not before tossing her underwear onto him. "Enjoy."
Out on the streets, she felt bad. She didn't want to leave him tied up, but it was her only choice.
She realized that she now hated to bind people.
The club was eloquent, dance floor in the front, rooms in the back, and dressing rooms for all the strippers in the left wing. It also cost a lot to be admitted.
She liked it immediately.
As an on call employee, she only had to come in days that someone was missing, but that didn't keep her from receiving the benefits that the other workers had.
For example, the private rooms that they kept all their belongings in, as well as a queen sized bed.
It was basically prostitution.
She called it being an exhibitionist.
"Are you the new stripper?" a man in his early twenties asked her, his breath reeking of the bitter liquid many called beer. "I've heard lots about you." he smiled a predatory smile. "You fit in very well. Perhaps more."
"Of course, darling," she replied, slipping her jacket off, revealing two slips of fabric, barely covering everything up. "I'm the new one."
"Very nice," he slurred, drink in his hand, talking to her body more than her face. "You're a good one that they've got. Extremely pretty."
She faked a smile, slipping a hand around the back of his neck, pulling her to him. "Want to get a room?"
She nearly smacked herself when he nodded, thinking that he would decline, for some of the older, more flashy strippers there. The ones who were willing to go all out.
She hated that she has just assumed.
"You're a stripper from across the street?" the blonde boy, maybe eighteen, like her, sitting alone at a booth asked, sticking his hands into his pockets, regarding her with a nervous expression. "I don't think I've ever met a stripper."
"You wouldn't have a few days ago," she replied. "I started yesterday."
"Oh... How is that?"
"It's interesting. I like it. Lots of new people," she shrugged. "Lots of new experiences... It's different."
"Do you have sex with a lot of people on the job?" he asked suddenly, tipping her head to the side.
"No. I'm on the job right now. They haven't even noticed that I left," she laughed, placing her hand over his. "You want to come over and see the place?"
His eyes lit up, and he grinned. "Could I really? That's cool. I've never been in a place like that."
"If you want."
He went with her willingly, following her around for the rest of the night, and finally, to get away from the old people who kept wanting to touch her, she led him to her back room, where she vowed since the last person to only allow guys who weren't old.
Besides, if she ever wanted an old guy, there were the regular rooms in the back.
And after everything, she only hated the blonde boy a little bit.
Quinn: Damn Smarter Than She
"Quinn," he introduced himself as, and she gave him a genuine smile. He was pretty damn attractive. "And you are?"
"Shae," she introduced herself as, leaning over the back of the couch, where the werewolf guy sat, on his phone. "I've heard of you around the town."
"And I of you," he said, smirking as he turned around to look her in the eyes. "They say things. It's nice to finally be able to put a face with the name."
"Things. I wonder if they're all true," she said, raising an eyebrow. "I've heard you get around. I find it respectable. A guy who's had his share of the ladies. Very nice to see."
"I could say I've heard the same thing about you," he laughed. "Want to sit? I'm bored out of my mind."
"Sure. I don't mind spending a little time with one of the hottest guys around the Institute."
"Hottest? Why, thank you. Lots of people agree," he replied slightly arrogantly, but she found it endearing. "I really do try. My reputation isn't something you can just buy."
"Have you been to the club on sixty-ninth street?" She asked curiously. "Recently? Like in the past four weeks or so?"
"No. I've before, though. Not as much my thing. Lots of the strippers there are very desperate," he shrugged, tucking his hands into his pockets. "Why?"
"Then you're talking to a very desperate person," she teased. "No, but seriously. Sort of. I work there. I don't know the other people well. But I actually think they like getting it on with the old people."
"Old people? Most of the guys there were relatively young."
"Come on. Like everyone was in their twenties. That's like, ancient," she joked. "Once you pass... Twenty-two. Then you're a senior in my mind."
"Then I've got a couple years of youth left," he laughed. "Are you working there today?"
"No. I only go in some days. They call me and see if I want to work. It's all cool. But you should come around some day when I'm working. We could have some fun."
"I'm sure we could," he smirked, sticking his phone into his pocket. "Thanks for the offer. I'll think about it."
"Awesome. And same me from the old drunk guys," she added, wrinkling her nose at him. "They're all like, touchy feely and it's weird."
"Its part of the job, maybe?" His eyes had laughter in them, amused at her antics, perhaps. "You have to pay for the hands on experience."
She burst out laughing, placing a hand on his arm. "Quinn, you are hilarious. I hope to see you around."
"Maybe," he promised. "I'll think about it."
"Hey, Shae," Quinn said, placing his hand on her hip, a drink in the other hand. "I told you I would come. And here I am."
"Quinn!" she exclaimed, turning around and giving him a peck on the cheek, her lack of decent clothing startlingly obvious. "I didn't think you would make it anytime soon."
His thumb brushed over her bare skin, taking another gulp from his bottle." I wouldn't miss it. Besides, I paid good money to be here and see you do your thing."
She smirked at him, "Name your drug. Lap dance, plain sex, twerking, we'll not that one. I've not mastered the art of twerking yet."
Quinn stifled a laugh. "You make it sound so nice. Like a prostitute."
"I prefer exhibitionist."
"So you like being naked in front of people?"
"Yes. Quite a thrill. You should give it a try sometime."
"... No thanks. I'm good," he assured her, patting her on the shoulders. "But those other choices you gave me sound good."
She reflexively leaned away, hearing the undertones in what he said. He was starting to get the look of a drunk person, the cloudy eyes, unfocused gaze, and confused look. "How much have you had to drink?"
"Three, four," he shrugged. "Not much. I'm looking for some fun, though. Are you the place to find it? Because you look pretty fun to me."
"You should go something to drink. Water, preferably," she recommended. "You don't want to overdo it with the alcohol."
He grinned, setting is drink down at the bar. His hands instead took the place at her waist."I've heard you guys have the private rooms here. Want to show me around yours?"
She shook her head. "I could show you are the shower areas."
"They have shower areas here? Man. You have some kinky stuff in this joint. Where is it?"
Taking a glass of ice water, from the counter, she dumped half of it over his head. "Right here."
His eyes flew open. "What was that for?"
"You're drunk," was her only reasoning. "I'd rather have you when you're sober."
He winked at her. "Wouldn't you? Then you wouldn't be able to call it drunk sex. You'd have made a permanent mark. They'd never forget you."
She scowled, though, deep down she knew he was right. "People are gross when there drunk. Anyway, my shift is almost over. Want to head back to the Institute together?" She asked, changing the subject.
"Sure. Can I watch you get changed?"
Chris: A Breathe Of Fresh Air
"Shae, right?" the blonde haired boy asked. He was tall, muscular, and his hair fell into his eyes. "I've heard you're new. I've been just dying to meet you." I'm Chris."
She grinned, introducing herself by pressing her hips to his, a sort of twist of her lower half. "That's me, darling. And Chris. I like your name. It suits a fine piece of work like you."
He laughed. "Glad you think so. Can I treat you to a drink after your work is done? I'm be around here for a bit longer."
She rolled her eyes. He was pathetic at trying to get into a girl's pants. Almost as bad at it as she was. But still... He was sort of attractive.
"That would be nice," she laughed, placing hand to his chest, rubbing it over what felt like an actual six pack.
But of course. He was a Shadowhunter from the Institute.
Of course he would be super hot and fit.
"I get off in a half hour," she whispered, lowering her eyelashes and looking up at him through them. "Meet you in the bar across the street?"
"Deal," he said, kissing her on the cheek, giving her alerting glance as he left.
Oh, she knew the act so well. Pretend you care, be seen as can be, then get your way.
No. That was her thing. She would outsmart him. She just had to.
She liked control. It gave her power, something she didn't have when her parents were killed and she was sent away, developing a new life, only to be pulled away from that one. She would show them all.
Grinding distractedly against a guy in his bid twenties, she squirmed as his grabbed her hips, pulling her to him and running his finger across her skin, along the fabric where her thong went from her hips to her ass.
She didn't care. She was too far from caring to give a damn what he would do. As long as he didn't start screwing her on the dance floor, they would be fine.
This was a strip club, by the Angel. Wasn't stuff like this supposed to happen?
"Come on, baby. I know you want it," he said into her ear, his breath hot and bitter smelling."You're a fine specimen that they have here."
"So now I'm a lab experiment?" She scoffed. "I don't appreciate that, but anyway, ready to have some fun?"
The man nodded, pulling her to him and linking an arm around her waist. "Always ready for a babe like you, baby."
She rolled her eyes, taking him to have of the rooms in the back, designed for only one purpose.
Doing the dirty with people you didn't know thirty minutes ago.
"What took you so long?" Chris asked, sitting himself at a table. "Got held up?"
"Very," she smirked, running her hands through her messy hair, her mascara across her eyelid. "But don't worry. It wasn't half bad. He was... Decent."
"Good for you," he laughed, waving the waiter over and ordering a drink for himself. "What do you want? Name your poison."
"Water, please. I'm not a fan of drinking, " she said, giving the waiter a tight smile to let him know she wasn't interested. She was a firm believer of only one target at a time.
Chris drew his eyebrows together slightly, staring at her over the table with blatant surprise. "I'm surprised. I thought you would have been the complete opposite."
"People amaze you," she winked. "You never know what you might find under the covers if you're drunk. A guy could be a girl. Or a dog."
"Has that happened to you before?"
"No. I'm just saying," she shrugged, rubbing at the marks that covered her arms like vines. She told everyone that they were tattoos. "I hadn't ever drank a think before I was fifteen. Weird, right? For Shadowhunters, I mean."
"Definitely. Since the drinking age is twelve, I mean. I think I started way before that, even."
"I used to live in a normal Shadowhunter family," she explained, lowering her eyelashes. "After my parents were killed, I was moved to one of those patty Institutes."
"Those exist?" he said with surprise, again widening his eyes. "I've only heard of them before."
"Yeah. Mine got found out so I was transferred here. It's not too bad. I can do whatever I want."
"And you become a stripper?" he smirked. She narrowed her eyes at him.
"Yes. I think it's a worthy profession, don't you? It definitely makes you better in bed." she raised an eyebrow, silencing him.
"I'd like to get you in bed," he muttered. "If you haven't got plans to go and get with some other old guy."
"Don't worry. I'm not taking anymore requests today. I've had enough."
"Enough sex? It's never enough," he laughed, downing the rest of his drink. Shae picked up her water, glancing at him over the rim of the cup.
"It is when you're sore and dead tired."
"You're tired? Maybe you should sleep. I have an empty space in my bed next to me. Back at the Institute, too."
"I told you, I'm not interested. Anyway, I should be going."
"Back to the Institute."
"Yes. Are you coming with me?"
"Oh, baby, I'd like to come in more ways that one."
Leo: Too Close For Comfort
"You're new here?" Shae asked, lowering her eyelashes seductively at the young man standing by the bar. "I don't think I've seen you around."
"These kind of clubs are my thing, usually," the boy, his name Leo, she would later find out, smirked. "Not as classy as some other joints, but always a thrill. Besides. Some or the women here are quite beautiful.
"Like me," she said, faking a look of interest
She knew his type. The fake, get to know you sort of guy. She could screw him, then get over with him, kick him out of her life. Really, that's the way it was with a lot of people.
"Especially you," he winked, slipping an arm around her waist and pulling her close. She moved towards him, thanking the Angel that he wasn't too drunk. His breath didn't reek of alcohol.
And he was attractive, at least a little bit. He had that older man look, though he couldn't have really been more than a year or so older than her. "Enjoying the view?" he asked, and quickly averted her eyes.
"Enjoying mine? I'm much more revealed than you," she countered. "And plus, that's what you pay for. The view, right?"
"And the sex. Definitely." he tightened his grip on her, and she grimaced. She wanted the control.
Placing both hands on his chest, she arched her back, pressing her middle to his, though he was much taller, and it was a bit awkward. She kissed him quickly, teasingly, and then pulled away. She would win this.
"I have a room in the back," she whispered in his ear, softly, seductively. "Would you like to see?"
His hand traveled across her stomach, and higher. "Of course. I'm always up for new places. And new people, of course."
Easy. She led him to the back room, her private one, as he wasn't that old, was he? Her age, she had guessed. Close enough, at least.
"Here we are," she said, waving her arm out to display the room, which actually was quite nice, the size of a small bedroom, and well furnished. "Like what you see?"
"I like what I see of you," he smirked, raising his eyebrow yet again at her. She could see a little bit of herself in her personality, but she didn't care. "
But then again, a beautiful room for a beautiful girl."
"You're flattering me."
"Fine. I won't then. Ready to get down to business?"
"I hate how you call it business."
"You're good," she lied, running her fingers over his chest. She lied to make him feel better than he had actually felt. "This was nice."
"Definitely," he laughed, getting up. "But I should probably be getting back to the Institute. They're probably wondering where I am."
"If you have to," she said, faking disappointment. She should probably learn not to, as many people fell for her charms, and she she would have to lie again to get out of the mess.
"I do," he replied, kissing her on the cheek. "But who knows. I may be back again sometime. I'll ask for you, of course."
"I'll be expecting it," she flirted, flashing him as she climbed out of the bed and into her scanty clothing. She knew she probably wouldn't be there if he came again. She knew she would rarely socialize with the same person more than once.
"Do you need a way home?" he asked slipping his hands into his jacket. "I've got a free seat next to me."
"No. I've got somewhere to be," she smirked, her lips pursed into a slight pout. "I promised that I would meet up with some of my friends later."
"That's fine with me. I'll see you."
"Bye," she said, holding the door open for him. She realized that she didn't even know his name.
He was also the first person from the Institute that she had actually slept with.
Oh well. Lying had always been her out.
She ran her hand over his arm one last time, as he exited the door, going back through the main dance room and to the exit. "Laters, baby."
She didn't reply, instead turning her back to the door. She quickly cleaned up her room, making it the immaculate way it had been before she and her most recent conquest had come in.
Sure, she had been with people like him before. Cocky, know it all people who thought more than they knew was right. And she usually didn't mind.
But this guy, he had been exactly like her.
And she hated it.
But also loved it.
She knew something was going to have to change.
She was Fifty Shades Of Shae.
So. I think that this is an accurate representation of her former character. I didn't include Caleb and Ross because I got lazy and this story is like over seven thousand words. Also. I didn't know how to fit it all in.
Anyway. It was so much... Just ewwy. Okay, I'm done with writing Shae for a very long time...
You know why. Also, I dragged a guy across the floor today. :) He loves me, I tell you. ;) Because he so let me. :) ;)
~Jillessa Heronstairs~