Rey and Rose are exotic dancers at the Star Girlz bar and lounge. When new management steps in and working conditions nosedive, the girls take their fight to the streets.
CW // sexual content, references to sexual harassment in the workplace; if you don’t support strippers and their right to safe working conditions, this fic is not for you!
CW // NSFW, jealousy; man-handling; dirty talk; unprotected s/ex; mean Ben is mean to everyone but his lil wife 🥺
“She knew she’d messed up when he loosened his tie.” (Read below!)
1. It started as a dare.
“Seriously, go talk to him!”
Rey’s nose wrinkled. “Bridger? Why?”
“Because he’s been staring at you all afternoon,” Rose stacked her plate with macaroons. She shot a surreptitious glance across the room. “And I’m not the only one who’s noticed.”
2. Rey turned to where Rose was looking. The banquet hall was packed, but Rey spotted him immediately. It wasn’t hard. He stood a full head over the rest of the crowd.
Benjamin Solo.
Chief Operating Officer of First Order Industries.
It’s Saturday and we are stranded in the snow for #ReyloSpiritWeek 🖤
CW // NSFW, spooky 👻
“It had been a bitter winter.” (Read below!)
1. Rey crouched by the fire, her cloak pulled tight across her shoulders. She was desperate to warm her hands, but uncurling them from the folds was torture.
She needed to leave this cabin.
2. She’d found it a day ago, trudging through the midnight snow. It was ancient, abandoned and dilapidated. The harsh winter winds howled through the cracks in the caving ceiling.
“Ben Solo was home for the weekend. His parents, however, were not.” (Read below!)
1. Which was precisely why his baby sister, Kaydel, decided to throw a rager for her 18th birthday. “You’re gonna get in so much trouble if they find out, Kay.”
Kaydel rolled her eyes and dabbed her brow bone with another layer of glitter. “Reybee?”
“Yeah?”
“Knock it off.”
2. The party was out of control. Booze, weed, heavy bass—Rey’s head throbbed pleasantly as her third shot lit her from the inside. She tugged at the hem of her cutoffs, but one step sent them sliding right back up her arse cheeks. Someone called her name by the pool table.
Well, it happened /after/ the party, if Ben was being specific. Somewhere between cups of spiked punch and a blunt shared in the alley between buildings, they’d gone from making eyes to lingering touches to Ben holding her against the grimy bricks under a heavy midnight fog.
She’d laced their fingers and whispered in that magnetic rasp.
“Come home with me.”
So he did. He came home with her, he came /inside/ of her, and that’s how this all started.