needed me ━ dean di'laurentis
Dean Di'Laurentis x OC
summary: Dean Di'Laurentis has never had trouble getting a girl's attention. Morgan Hayes has never had trouble ignoring guys like Dean. But at Briar University, where hockey parties, stupid secrets, and unexpected feelings collide, staying away from each other proves harder than either of them expected.
tags: dancer oc, flirty!dean, oc isnt falling for the routine, intense eye contact, dean needs that cookie, healthy work environment!!, morgan dances to afford college, probably poor explanation of a strip club (not sure what else to tag)
word count: 1k+
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PROLOGUE
SUMMER BEFORE THE SEMESTER STARTS.
The bass pulsed through the club hard enough to make the ground rattle underneath Morgan’s heels. Red and blue lights swept across the room, flashing over the crowd tables, scattered dollar bills, and the haze of cigarette smoke that hung stubbornly in the air.
Most people would think the atmosphere is overwhelming, but to Morgan it all was comforting, safe.
Out there she was Morgan Hayes, the college student who majors in Sociology, Allies twin sister.
In here though, she was Angel, and she paid the bills.
“Angel.”
Morgan turned at the sound of her stage name.
Brad stood a few feet away, adjusting his glasses. He’d owned the club for years, and unlike half the horror stories people liked to tell about places like this, Brad ran a tight ship. The girls were safe here. Protected.
It was one of the reasons Morgan stayed.
“Yeah, boss?” She asks with a grin.
“You’re on in five.”
He glanced towards the stage and then back at her.
“You need anything? Water? Snack? Break?”
Morgan laughed softly, “I’m good I promise,”
Brad reached over, fixing a loose curl that had escaped from the rest of her hair.
“Just checking.”
“You’re the best.”
She kissed his cheek before slipping away toward the side-stage area.
The familiar sounds of the club followed her: laughter, music, the clink of glasses against tabletops, heels clicking.
Another shift.
Another night.
Another step closer to paying next semester's tuition.
Her eyes met her reflection.
Angel smiled back.
Morgan took a deep breath.
“Lets do this beautiful.” She blows her reflection a kiss before standing from the vanity.
Right on cue, the emcee's voice rang out across the club.
“Give it up for the beautiful, the one and only, Angel.”
The club erupted into whistles and cheers.
The curtain parted just enough for her to step into the edge of the spotlight, and for half a second she let herself feel the moment, the anticipation pressing against her skin like static.
Then the music dropped.
Pour it Up by Rihanna flooded the room.
Angel stepped fully onto the stage, not rushed, not unsure, but confident, and sexy.
From the corner of the room, Dean Di’Laurentis leaned back in his seat without realizing, nursing his third beer of the night.
Logan was mid-sentence beside him, and Tucker had his drink halfway in his mouth.
Dean wasn't listening to either of them anymore, not after seeing Angel. The way her curves caught the light, like she's meant to be there.
“Jesus.” Logan mutters. “That’s Angel? Shes fucking gorgeous.”
Dean didn't answer.
Angel moved with the beat like it was something inside her instead of something outside her. Every step matched the bass, every turn timed like she’d spent hours perfecting it.
Dean’s grip tightened around the neck of his beer bottle.
She looked so.. untouchable.
Like she knew exactly what every man in the room thought he wanted, and didn't even care.
Angel spun once, slow enough that her hair caught the color lights, and her sparkling choker that spells out her name on her neck, like a branding. When she faced the room again, her gaze swept across it like she was bored of all of them.
Until she saw someone new.
For half a second, her eyes met Deans.
Not long enough for anyone else to notice, but enough for him to feel it like a direct hit.
A faint smirk curved her mouth, before looking away.
“..Okay,” Tucker said quietly. “I get it now.”
“Get what?” Dean asked, eyes still glued on Angel.
“That look on your face.”
Dean scoffed automatically, looking at him. “What look?”
“The one where you're thinking about doing something stupid.”
Dean gave him a warning look, but when he looked back to the stage Angel was already walking off the stage, making him curse under his breath for missing the end of her set.
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The second her set ended, Morgan slipped offstage to thunderous applause and whistles.
Another night, another crowd, another stack of tuition money.
By the time she freshened up her lipstick and grabbed a bottle of water, she was back on the floor weaving between tables.
This was the part people didn't understand.
The dancing was easy, it was conversations that were the real job.
Most customers fell into predictable categories. The lonely ones, the loud ones, the drunk ones, the ones who think they're funny, and the ones who think they fell in love at first sight with you. Morgan knew how to handle all of them.
Which is why she noticed him immediately. The tall, blonde-haired guy sitting with two friends near the back. Not because he was attractive, though he definitely was.Because while everyone watched the dancers, he was watching her.
Morgan sighed dramatically, might as well see what his deal is, she thought.
She approached their table with an easy smile.
“Having fun, boys?”
Tucker and Logan look at him.
Dean looked up at her.
Close up, his eyes were annoyingly pretty, Morgan hated that.
“A lot more now,” he said.
There it was, the flirting right on schedule.
Morgan laughed, “That line usually works for you?”
His grin widened, “Usually.”
“That’s unfortunate.”
Tucker immediately barked out a laugh, and Dean points at him.
“Ignore him.”
“I’d love to.”
“Dean.”
Morgan raised an eyebrow.
“Angel.”
His smile grew.
“That’s a stage name.”
“So is Dean.”
Logan nearly spits out his beer, and Dean looks offended.
“My name is actually Dean.”
“Sure it is.” For the first time all night, Morgan managed to make him laugh. A real laugh. The kind that crinkled the corners of his eyes, and suddenly she understood why women probably fell for him.
Very dangerous.
“So,” Dean said, leaning back in his chair. “You always bully your customers?”
“Only the ones who make it easy.”
“And here I thought we had a connection.”
Morgan placed a hand dramatically over her heart. “We do.”
“Oh yeah?”
“You’re helping pay for my sociology degree.”
Logan completely lost it, even Tucker was laughing too.
Dean shook his head, “I don't know if I should be impressed or offended.”
“A little bit of both.”
She winks, and for a second neither of them look away. The noise of the club seemed to fade around them.
Then Morgan stepped back, “Enjoy the rest of your night Dean.”
‘That's it?” He sits up slightly.
“Thats it.”
“You don't even know my last name.”
Morgan started to walk away, a hypnotizing sway to her hips.
“If its important, you'll tell me next time.”
Dean watched her disappear into the crowd, his eyes locked onto the angel wings tattooed on her back.
“There better be a next time."
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