BNHA | Oɴᴇsʜᴏᴛs

Love Your Voice (Hizashi Yamada x Reader)

LOVE YOUR VOICE

Warnings: Voice Fetish

Inspired by Jony - Love Your Voice

N.B. [Y/N/N] = Your NickName

"Yo, yo, yo. It's cold out there tonight, but here we are on fire." Present Mic started his talk show, giving it all of himself as always. "Tonight, we will continue with our new rubric "Call and Play". Give us a call, name a song and we will play it. And our next caller is on." He pointed at the microphone with a large in his face. "It's past ten in the pm, what can we play for you at this splendid hour?"

The person on the other end was silent for a fraction of a minute.

"Midnight Train to Georgia by Gladys Knight & The Pips," spoke a smooth, slightly deep female voice. Hizashi straightened up in his seat.

"Midnight Train to Georgia coming up for our dearest listener..." he waited for her to say her name, but the female on the other end did not rush. "Can we put a name to our wonderful requester?" he urged.

The voice chuckled lightly, suddenly sending waves of electricity down the blonde man's back. "[Y/N/N]. Thank you for playing the song." Her voice flowed like music, alerting all his senses. "Goodnight." Beeping sound indicated that the female cut the line. Hizashi Yamada remained silent for a while longer. He shook his head side to side and grinned. "Yo, yo, yo, what a song that was. And our next listened is on..."

The rest of the show continued as usual, with a single exception that every time a listener called Hizashi Yamada begged for it to be the female with a sultry voice.

***

Two weeks passed and she called again.

"The Goldrush by Joe Washbourn," her voice echoed in his headphones, making his heart race unexpectedly.

"Well, well, well, if it isn't our loyal listener [Y/N/N]. One Goldrush coming up," he beamed signing to his colleague.

The female chuckled.

"You have a good memory," she said, and he could swear that she was smiling. Hizashi gulped, but before he could respond the line was cut and familiar frustrating beeping filled the headphones.

When the talk show came to an end, Hizashi threw off the headphones and hurried to the one of the furthest offices on the floor. It was occupied by Nishi Akira, a large shaggy man with in thick rimmed glasses. Nishi was a socially awkward man with a tendency of talking too much when stressed or under pressure. His co-workers tried to avoid him as much as possible, but that did not bother him. All he cared about were computers and the bishoujo figures that decorated his office.

Hizashi knocked and walked in. Nishi did not turn around, which was absolutely normal.

"Akira, my friend," Hizashi patted the man on the back.

"Present Mic," Nishi's voice was deep and groggy. "What can I do for you?"

Hizashi didn't reply and Nishi did not rush him and for some time only the sound of continuous clicking of the mouse filled the room.

"Can you trace a phone number for me?" the blonde finally asked. Nishi's hand froze and clicking stopped. Slowly he turned his gaze to the Pro. His heavy gaze would have made anyone uncomfortable, but Hizashi was oblivious.

"You want me to trace a number for you?" he asked to be sure he was hearing right. The blonde man nodded. "Whose number?"

Hizashi thought for a moment of how to answer his question adequately without sounding like a creepy stalker, but no matter from which angle he looked at it, 'stalker' was the best adjective to describe him.