Dylan O'Brien Imagines

*"Work"-Stuart Twombly

Warning: dancing, strippers, suggesting sex, slight smut, Daddy kink, language

There is something about me that my interning group doesn't know; the only way I can afford to be here is by working at the night club on weekends.

Yes, I'm an exotic dancer.

It's never been a problem until one Saturday night I had just gotten in my outfit and was about to step onto the stage when I saw a certain pair of glasses that I didn't want to see.

"Danger, you're up on the stage. Go!" My manager yelled.

I heard my signature song playing as the announcer's voice came through the speakers. "Give it up for the crowd favorite, Little Miss Danger!"

The second I stepped onto the stage, the nerves left me and I turned into Danger. I started dancing as Dangerous Woman by Arianna Grande blasted through the speakers.

The longer I was on stage, the louder the men in the room got. I sent a wink as the song came to an end. "Thank you, Danger!" I waved as I quickly sauntered off the stage. The second I got backstage, I let out the breath I didn't know I was holding.

Stuart noticed me.

"How could he not?" I mumbled. I ran my hand through my hair, trying to calm my breathing. With shaking hands, I picked up my water bottle and took a much needed drink.

"Danger," one of the waitresses said. "There's a gentlemen who is asking for a lap dance."

"Be right there," I said, clearing my throat. I fixed my lipstick before walking out into the lounge.

"That guy," she said, pointing. "The one with the glasses."

"No," I said quickly. "I can't. . . He. . ."

"He asked for you specifically, Danger. You know the rules." She started to walk away but stopped and looked at him. "Besides, he's hot."

I let out an annoyed groan as I slowly walked over to him. I walked up behind him, trying to plot how I can get through this song without him seeing my face. I scoffed when I realized it was impossible.

I took a deep breath as I put my hands on his shoulders, standing directly behind him. I slid my hands down his chest and back up. When my hands got back to his shoulders, I slid them down his arms.

"You can cut the act," he laughed. My breath got caught in my throat when he looked at me from over his shoulder. "I know it's you, Y/N."

"Fine," I scoffed as I walked around him, his eyes on me the whole time. "So you caught me." I crossed my arms against my chest, shifting all of my weight to one foot. I bit on the inside of my cheek as his eyes looked me up and down.

"What do you want, Stuart?" I asked, feeling extremely self-conscious of how much skin I was showing.

"Just taking it all in," he smirked.

"You don't have to be such an ass, alright?" I rolled my eyes as I turned around, not caring about the rules.

"I have one question," he said making me turn back towards him. "Why do you do it?" I felt the anger build as I saw the cockiness and judgement in his eyes.

"Not all of us can be trust fund babies, Stuart. Some of us. . . Some of us don't have a choice," I said as the tears started to build. His eyes widened slightly when he noticed the tears.

I cleared my throat, awkwardly wiping my hands on my bare legs. "Well, if you'll excuse me, I have to get back to work," I said turning around.

"Yeah," he scoffed. "Work,"