“Yeah, will do,” you replied casually as you picked your phone up and pulled the USB from the laptop to take to the library, “bye, babe!”
“See you, sexy,” he called as you closed the door behind you.
Picking a snappy pace, you walked fast to the school and printed out the resume for Dabi, keeping one eye on the time as you did so.
“What time does that corner store close? I don’t know if I’ll make it in time?”
You pulled your phone out and googled their closing times. Noting, with annoyance, that they closed early on a Wednesday… and today was Wednesday.
“I have 15 minutes to get there.”
Resume in hand and USB in your pocket, you quickly turned and ran for the library doors then out down the steps and out the college gate.
The more you looked at the time on your phone, the more you panicked, moving faster and faster until you were one click back from a full sprint- dashing down the streets towards the corner store.
Last corner up ahead, you sprinted around it and ran for the store, falling through the door in the most disorderly fashion.
The owner just so happened to be behind the counter when you arrived and you grinned and puffed as you handed the papers across the counter to him.
“Resume…” you wheezed, “sorry… late.”
He took it in his hand and flicked through the pages quickly.
“I’m assuming for a job here?” he asked, a little confused by this random panting girl who had fallen into his shop and handed a resume across to him.
“Yes,” you nodded, still trying to catch your breath, “Dabi.”
The owner had gone back to looking over it again and nodded with a smile.
“Thank you very much… Uh…”
“Y/N,” you panted, fanning yourself and wiping your brow.
“Thank you, Y/N, I’ll give you a call soon.”
“Awesome,” you puffed, straightening a little, “I’ll hear from you soon then.”
“Yes. Will do.” He smiled.
You grinned and backed back to the door then said one last awkward goodbye and left, heading straight back home.
“Guess who just got you your job, motherfucker!” you called triumphantly as you entered the house.
“Let’s fuck to celebrate!” came the reply.
“You can’t fuck. You have studs in your dick that are still trying to heal!” you called back.
“Fuck your chicken strips,” he hollered, making you laugh.
“No, but like, I completely nailed it for you. Now I just gotta find a job for myself…” you said as you walked into the lounge room to chat with him.
“You were gonna get one at college as a private volleyball tutor or something, right?” He asked, opening his arms for you to snuggle ontop of him as he lay on the lounge.
“Yeah. I’ll write up a little flyer thing tonight and post it up on the board tomorrow before class,” you said, rubbing your head into his chest like a cat trying to leave its scent.
“Looks like I’ll be taking private lessons then,” Dabi said, “how much extra is it for head after doing receiving practice?”
“I’m not open for business for sleaze bags,” you mumbled into his chest.
“Come on… $100? $200? I pay well,” he leered, “what’s your rates, baby?”
“My rates are ‘fuck off you horny bastard’,” you replied, searching for, and biting at his nipple though his shirt.
Dabi’s whole body contracted away from you into the lounge in an attempt to get away while you giggled and chomped on anything you could find.
“Argh?! Man… come on,” Dabi yelped, trying to fend you off and falling onto the floor in the process.
“I’ll Titan rip the tiddies offa anyone who tries to proposition me so don’t even worry,” you replied with a smirk.
“I know I can trust you,” he replied with a lopsided grin from the floor.
The next day, you purposefully walked to the message board with your little flier in hand, excited to see if anyone would call the number on the bottom.
Reaching up on tippy toes, you pinned it up there before heading off the class.
“Did you put your flier up?” Dabi asked you at lunch.
“Yeah. No calls yet though,” you replied sadly.
“You’ll get them. You’ll be inundated,” he replied confidently.
“How do you know?” you scoffed, taking a bite of your sandwich.
“You’re an amazing libero, they’d be stupid not to ask for private lessons from you,” he replied.
Your heart melted at his sweet comment. He didn’t even need to think twice about his answer, he was just that sure.
That afternoon after school you got a call from a number that wasn’t save in your phone and you froze with fear drenched excitement.
“What?” Dabi asked from the drivers seat as he drove you both home, alternating his gaze between the road, your phone, then the road again.
“Someone is calling me.” You panicked.
“I don’t know who they are?!”
“It’s probay someone calling about being tutored. ANSWER IT!”
With a stressed out press of the answer call button, you clicked it and hurriedly shoved the phone to your ear.
“Yes? Umm, hello?” you fumbled.
“Is this Y/N?” the voice on the other end asked.
The owner of the voice sounded much older than you were expecting and it threw you for a second.
“Yes?” you asked.
“I would like to congratulate you on getting the job,” the voice said, throwing you into utter and complete confusion.
“Who the fuck? What job? Whose job?”
“Umm, job?” you asked, trying to still sound polite.
“Yes, you bought your resume in yesterday evening. So I am ringing you to let you know your application has been successful.”
“But I didn’t bring a resu—” Suddenly it all hit you and you realized it was the owner of the corner store ringing you about Dabi’s resume that you had dropped in yesterday. But why was he calling you? There was a long pause before you continued. “Ohhhh, yes, yes, of course. That’s my boyfriend’s resume I dropped in.” You smiled into the receiver.
“I rang the number on here and you answered so is this his resume or yours?” The owner asked a little impatiently.
“Oh. Sorry, I must have put my number by mistake,” you replied, “so should I tell him that he has the job?”
“You were the one who bought the resume in so I am offering the job to you,” the owner stated, “if your boyfriend couldn’t even bring his own resume in then that doesn’t say a lot about his work ethics or how keen he is for the job…”