div align="justify"- "I can do it."

The silence met your words. Even yourself were surprised. You had no idea you would say this. You nearly looked next to you searching for the one who spoke these four words aloud. Instead, you held your chin high and forced yourself to look at the men around the table, all fixing you with various stage of disbelief shadowing their eyes.

- "Ah? What the fuck you said?"

- "I said… I mean… I can do it!" You nearly showed your annoyance at having to repeat yourself but you got enough of pride to control yourself right before, so you spoke with your calm voice, the one you used for your professional occupation. The facts, only the facts. As a data analyst, there was no need for passion in your job.

- "You're not even a hero. What are you even allow to yap around? Dunce face, I think you found someone even stupider than you!"

You bristled. No one made fun of your boss. Sure, you technically had four of them, and you like them all equally, but Kaminari-san had a special spot in your heart, since he was the one who actually recruited you. He saw your potential and got you this fantastic position at the agency he run with his three friends. He trusted you enough to bring you to this secret meeting. So no one would talk him down, especially not because of you.

- "I might not be a hero, but unlike you, I can do ithis/i mission."

Then you decided to have a death wish. You locked eyes with Dynamight, number 2 hero, and stared. Stared him down, as it is. Or try to. You would like to say it was easy because you were standing up when he was sitting but even this difference of heigh did not mean much. Fucking Bakugō fucking Katsuki radiated raw charisma just by being alive. His crimson eyes were full of scepticism, his face was scrunched into a mask of contempt and his fist was curled into a mass on the table. He was about to retort, probably something acid and even more probably truer as he was correct…. you were not a hero and probably not the one to ever be put in the field. But here the issue. There was no one to be put in ithis/i field. Might as well be you. So you would not let him talk. Because if he talked, he would certainly convinced the others not to listen to you, and you'd be the first in line in this "others" category. You were not a hero. You did not belong on the field. Any field, even if this one was more your style. As a data analyst, you agreed with his statement. You should let him talk. Really. This was a perfect way to back down without losing dignity. But… it felt wrong. So wrong. You could do this. You knew it. You just needed to shut down the stick-to-fact part of your brain and trusted your gusts. You needed to go full dolphin on this – did you know that those fuckers could get one half of their brains sleeping and still appear as functioning mammals?

It was not pride that was leading you – not just pride, for you wanted him to regret how the-supposely-great-Dynamight addressed lower-rang Chargebolt. You were indeed highly motivated by resolving this case. Three of your bosses were in the hospital. Kaminari-san was miserable. All of Japan was miserable now that six of the top ten heroes were down. And you could help. You could. You knew it.

- "I might not be a hero, but I have worked for four of them over the past last three years, five if you want to go technically accurate. I am a data analyst, so I know exactly what kind of information we are looking for. I trained with Earphone Jack as her primary support for at least twenty infiltration missions. I work with her onithis mission. For a year/i.You don't need a hero right now, you need a spy. I can be this spy. … and unlike all of you, I can easily be hired at this Velvet Rose cabaret."

- "Playing barmaid is not going to cut it. We need access to the private rooms." Dynamight scoffed and rolled his eyes.

- "Never said I was going as a barmaid." You flatly answered. Facts, sticking to the facts. This would save you, especially in front of the whirlpool of emotions (or emotion, as in singular, as in 180-ish cm of pure denigration) that was Bakugō Katsuki. In the chair next to you, you felt more than you actually heard Kaminari's harsh inhale, as if he had been jolted by electricity. He now knew what you meant and he was not OK. You prevented him from speaking by putting a hand on his shoulder. You did not need protecting, not from this. It was your past and you owned every damn second of it. Nothing you did made you ashamed. "Unlike you, Dynamight, I can pole dance."

Another silence met your words, until your candidature was once more rejected without further enquiries.

- "Tch… a few lessons for some wannabe rebels during a hen night does not cut it, fucking extra!" Bakugō argued back.

- "Nope." You agreed with him, taken him by surprise, and this gave you a rush of satisfaction. "How about two nights a week during school year, for five years, and up to four nights during holidays?" You counter-attacked. He frowned and looked at you from head to toes. You knew the moment he realised you were serious and that you had just admitted having a certain expertise as a gogo dancer. Across the table, Shōto was wearing a rather suspicious blank face while Deku was completely blushing. Then Bakugō rolled his eyes, as if not trusting you. "What? It put a girl through college with no loan." You could help but try to justify yourself. Hey, it was like going to the gym, while getting fat tips. Sure, you had to deal with … customers…. slipping said tips under the strings of your underwear or the hem of your mid thigh stockings. But all together, it was worth it.

- "Velvet Rose poses as a cabaret, but is really nothing but a shitty strip club. Have any significant experience on this too?" He smirked as he offered this new piece of information, as if you had not been on the case from the beginning. You shrugged.

- "Pole dance, stripping. More or less the same. Especially since I get to keep whatever piece of clothing they call underwear." You were maybe pushing it. Playing cool when internally, you were just so relieved Velvet Rose ihad to/i enforce this law in order to keep the label "cabaret" and not "strip club", even it was indeed a strip club as well as an illegal casino and drug ring. Well, you would have still volunteered if you had have to show your pussy to whoever scumbag was visiting the place (for an exorbitant entry price, you must say) because this mission was bigger than you. But getting this micro-thin-G-string was making this all prospect way easier. Really, funny how civilisation could be defined by a bit a fabric.

- "Prove it."

The bastard! He was dead serious! Not even a hint of smugness on his face. You could help but to take a small step backward. What was he expecting? That you would suddenly start stripping in front of seven of the top ten pro-heroes? You must have shown how you were taken aback, because this time, he had a nefarious grin.

- "Don't tell me you can take on this mission if you can't even strip for us right here." He growled. "Stop wasting our time."

- "Kacchan! I really don't think…"

- "Not happening!" objected Shōto in the same time the number one hero protested.

- "Shut up, you nerds! I ain't going to trust this on a fucking extra who thinks she can do shit! This is about Kirishima, and Ashido, Jiro and Sero!"As well as Le Million and Mirko, but Bakugō did not really care for them, whereas the former names were his closest friends.

His ionly/i friends, you thought on a rather harsh inner bitch mode. You never got why your bosses viewed him as someone they could trust. Well, they could trust him as a hero. He saved the world after all – helped saving it, since Deku did most of the job. You meant, trusting him as a singular individual being. He was rude, scornful and temperamental. Yet, they loved him. Hell, they even named their agency "The Squad".

Mina, Hanta, Denki and Eijirō decided to keep working together after graduating from Yuei, instead of joining some big agency as side kick, like Deku, Dynamight and Shōto did. This allowed them to quite immediately reach the top-20, then the top-10. They had claim the sixth spot for the last three years now. The Squad was a force to reckon with. The Squad, as for Bakusquad, even if everyone was told it was an allusion to ithe suicide squad/i, the comic about villains sacrificed for impossible missions heroes could not tackled. Not that they were villains! But all the Stain business and all that came with had deeply impacted the group during their high school years, and they wanted to make sure they would never fray with a certain limit. Last year, Kirishima left the group to go solo and immediately rose to the seventh place in the top-ten. Kyoka Jiro then took his place in the Squad, much to Kaminari's pleasure. You were watching how things evolved between the two of them, as the rest of the agency, and you were quite please with your bet concerning the outcome of it. You were a idata analyst/i for crying it loud! You were literally paid by these two to combine facts and numbers and stats and make them speak. So yeah, if Jiro-san had not been infected with this quirk-altering virus and put into a hospital for the past five months, you were certain Denki-san would have asked her on a date two months ago… with a 71% chance of success. Because, well, as much as you admire Kaminari-san, you had to admit he had a rare talent to put his feet into his mouth and say the worse thing at the worst moment EVER. Say, or do. A lost cause, sometimes.

- "No. It is fine. I really don't care. In fact… this is quite a public." You purred, locking eyes with Bakugō. Oh, if he thought you would back down, he had it coming. Yes, you had a moment of doubt. You came here as the data analyst, and were not expecting to be stripping. And his argument hold some ground. Again. Somehow, you could understand where he was coming from – damn you, work-brain! Do not let yourself doubt now! He just could have been more complaisant about his reluctance. The fact that Todoroki and Midoriya disagreed was enough for you. They reminded you they were heroes, after all, including this arsehole. This was a save place. Probably the safest.

You step back from the table to the open space between it and the wall of windows. As you make your way, you spotted Hawks, Endeavour and Kamui Woods, the three others of the top ten, watching the scene with an alert look. Heroes on mission, not men getting a free show. Denki was fuming and glaring daggers at Katsuki who could not care less. Shōto was whispering to his father's ear, probably about the necessity or rather the un-necessity of this situation. Deku was adverting his eyes to your progress and chose to be suddenly extremely interested by the file in front of him. You knew every word of every page of it, as you wrote it. You have been working with Earphone Jack on this case for more than a year, since the first rumours about this drug-virus thing. Since she fell sick, you became the expert on the quirk-altering disease, hence your presence tonight.

You took the "stage", a square space of two meters wide, in front of an oval table that could have sit twenty people. However all the heroes decided to occupied only one side of it, keeping clear of the windows behind you, preferring turning their backs to the wall. Once more, you hold Dynamight's angry stare before dropping the facts-only-facts persona. You needed your wild-you now. Your I-love-dancing-gal. Gosh, you hoped you were not too rusty. You quitted as you as you graduated and got a job from Kaminari-san.

He spotted you one day when you were into your last year of university. The morning was bright, way too bright, and you were running on two hours of sleep. You had danced until the shady bar your worked at closed, at 4 am, then took a quick nap into the lounge. The boss was quite accommodating about this. He needed the girls to keep his business open and if this meant allowing you to shower after a show and sleep a few hours on a nearly broken sofa, this was fine by him. You had an early morning lecture and if you had to come home to shower and change, you would not make it back it time. However, his generosity stopped at breakfast, so you were sit in a low wall in front of a coffee shop, not far away from the university, sipping a coffee and wolfing down some stale doughnuts you got on sale at a bakery on the way. You made some cash while shaking your ass around a pole of metal, but this was no excuse to spend more than necessary.

As you were trying to keep busy, by fear of falling asleep, you decided to update your blog. You had created an internet page where you would post your analysis on various subjects. You initially wrote for yourself, to practice your skills. Your first entries were nothing but your uni assignments. Either sports events, political debates, talents shows, etc. You were predicting the outcome or criticising their performances, sharpening your analysis... as well as finding a fun way to bitch around. One of your favourite topic and most popular was of course heroes analyse. Two days ago, you had posted a rundown of the latest fight the Pussycats had with some villains. You were not tender with them. Clearly they needed to take a step down and let younger heroes rise. You had however stressed out they would be perfect as seasoned acolytes or teachers. Your analysis had riled up some fans and you were busy moderating and sometimes answering some questions or pertinent comments when his shadow blocked your screen.

Chargebolt was patrolling the area – uni at night was always attracting blooming perverts - and as he was waiting for his own coffee, he noted you. At first, he glanced away. Another student studying, right? But he realised you were the editor of this blog he liked to read, even if you had several times been more than harsh against the Squad. In fact, he found out about your blog because of said entries. Now that he knew who wrote them, he decided to hire you, or to wait for you to finish your degree and to hire you. You even got an internship for summer! Sure, it took some time away from your other job, but it was worth it. Of course, the heroes knew how you paid your rent and tuition. They did a throughout background check before you even put a toe into their rather recent agency. As long as you'd promised – spoiler alert, you did – to stop any activity of this kind once hired, you were fine. You retorted that as long as they paid you enough not to have to resort to pole dancing to buy food, all be fine. Sero-san had smirked they never said you'd need food, since you'd be working too much to be hungry. Ashido-san had laughed about he was sounding like their old sensei. That was the moment you decided to nearly worship the ground they all walked in and shake their hands.

Because of this, you had a job even before graduating.

Because of this, you were volunteering to infiltrate a lewd place such as the Velvet Rose cabaret – nothing less that a fuck club, to be honest – because four of them were in the hospital now. Earphone Jack has identified the place as the point of exit for the quirk-altering disease. How, who… that what you needed to find, and if this started by stripping in front of the heroes, so be it.

You let your pinked-glossed lips formed a knowing smile as you reached for the clip holding your dark hair into a serious tight bun on your neck. You playfully tossed it at Shōto with a wink – damn, he had good reflexes! Slowly, you passed a hand on your locks to get them to spill around your shoulders and down to your shoulder blades.

- "Too bad I don't have my high heels." You sighed as you spun around, giving them a good look at your behind. You believed someone sighed too and you decided to take this as a good omen. Your work outfit of the day – even if you were now into the late hours of the evening – consisted of a rather simple black skirt with a cream shirt, not fitting your curves like some of your pencil skirts, but it was enough to show them you had some ass. In fact, you were lucky you did not have anything more fitting because it would have made dancing and stripping more complicated. Cracking a seam was not arousing. Mentally you were checking what underwear you had put on today. You did not expect to give a show, and you had to admit you owned some simple, three-for-the-price-of-one-deal cotton panties. Plain, but comfy. Yet, your past as a pole danseur had giving you a taste for lingerie, and it was rare you did not have something with a little lace or ribbons. Today, you had donned a half-see through black bra with matching tanga. Not the most alluring pieces but you sure would make it work. Especially since you had back-seam illusion pantyhose and respectable five centimetres stilettos.

You started running your favourite song inside your head, swinging your hips to this new internal rhythm. Your hands started caressing your body, grazing your breasts, gliding over your flat stomach and the front of your thighs, before your dropped low of your heels in a sort of squat inspired by some R&B clip music, your knees well apart, bouncing your ass a bit before standing up in one go, spinning again to show your backside and finishing with a toss of hair behind your shoulder. You turned your head to look at them, slightly biting your lower lip. Deku was red as a lobster and Shōto was blinking hard, finding himself suddenly passionate by ceiling panels. Denki was covering his eyes with a hand, probably mortified by the turn of events. Last Christmas party at the agency, you gave Ashido-san a lap dance after she begged you. So Denki knew you have no shame… no you were quite proud of your skills and as you could not show them on a daily basis, you would bask in attention whenever you could. Maybe he was trying not to snicker in advance once you'd have proven your point to a-soon-to-be-dejected Bakgo. You had no time to read the others, as you started to wave your hips in a belly dance fashion and shaking your head, so you hair would cascade over your back. As you drew their eyes to your backside, you untucked your cream shirt from your waist and undid the first three buttons.

Another half turn to face them. Some shoulder shimming as you moved around, owing the space. You let your shirt slipped over a shoulder, showing your collarbone and the base of your cleavage. You bite your lower lip again and you caught Shōto shifting if his seat in a rather awkward move, ceiling panels be damned. Hawks, Kamui Woods and Endeavour were further back and cast into a shadow, so it was difficult to see their reactions. Would they have one? After all, they were older than you, experienced heroes and you were not sure that your little show, without the proper ambiance, would really have an effect on them. The no-fact-part of your brain got a little aroused at the possibility of a challenge. But you shut down this idea. No, if there was one to convince, it was shitty Bakugō.

So you turned to him and you boldly met his eyes. You were expecting him to be smirking, unimpressed or blasé by your performance. Instead, he was intensely watching you. You hoped he was just studying your technique in a neutral manner, as you were really answering his demands, and not searching another way to criticise you after. A strange thought came to you: you did claim he could not pole dance, unlike him but who said he really could not? The Squad were full of little stories about the guy was a genius at most things. Why not pole dancing on the top of it? You shook your head. Even if he knew it, he could not infiltrate the cabaret. Male dancers were not in high demand and even…. Everyone would recognise him. So even if your argument was proven wrong, the conclusion was still the same. They need someone to go over the Velvet Rose club and investigate and they had found no heroes for it. No underground girl had experience for it, or would be ready in time.

Still looking at Bakugō, you undid the remaining buttons of your shirt and you slowly started to peel it off you body. You were still gyrating your hips following the sensual song you had picked early. Your black bra appeared, revealing your boobs and you knew this got some grunts out of some of them. You did not have huge rack, because you were a former exotic dancer, and you had an athletic figure. But you had gained a few kilos since you stopped and this had added curves where you were previously lean. You shook your head so your locks went over your shoulder, playing hide-and-seek with your breasts. The key for sensuality was not to show everything, and never all at ounce. Just being naked was not as arousing as having some lingerie or veil that revealed without just exposing. You eventually let your open shirt slid along your arms, and felt into the ground. Cladded in only your bra, you caressed once more your skin, cupping your bosom, giving the globes a good couple of slow squeezes. You faked a deep moan that reverberated into the otherwise silent room, and you definitely got some echo from the table. You let your lips form a victorious smile and rewarded your audience with your hands over your neck and hair, pushing them in the air, as you let your head rolled back, your hips doing this hip lift and drop you liked so much. Arabic dancing was something you loved a lot, as it was a good match to pole dance. You have always loved dancing. You never minded been seen more or less naked, for you would go to your space and just move your body to the beat. To be honest, you just loved having such a power over strangers, to be the centre of their attention for a minute or two, to invade their thoughts to the point their bodies took over their brains. Slowly, you were getting back into this happy zone. You were shirtless, but you had your armour on. Those boys were doomed. They just did not know it.

You moaned again, this one with more true passion, as you let your body moved by itself, empowered by the attention they were giving you. Your hands, your breath, your hair, your curves, your legs, your lips, your everything was lascivious and suggestive. You wanted them hard for you, at the edge of their seat. You wanted their grunts and groans, their desires, their fantasies. You wanted them to go back home and to later touch themselves thinking of you. Your fingers reached the zip of your skirt and your slowly pulled it down.

- "No!" A squeal stopped you. Midoriya cleared his throat and kept going, a voice less pitchy this time. "I mean, I think this is enough. Right Kacchan?"

- "Yeah man, she can strip." Denki approved with some amused pride lacing his tone.

- "I think she can do it." Shōto confirmed what seemed to be everyone's opinion.

You barely managed to reprieve your pout. No, they did not spoil your fun, you told yourself, they did indeed save your intimacy. Yeah, heroes would always be heroes. Love your heroes, girl!

All attention shifted to Bakugō. He had requested proof of your capacities. Here they were. You could dance and strip. Now, would he finally admit you could do the mission? They have been at it for two months now. They have searched within their ranks and underground networks. They even contacted foreign agencies which refused to help given how dangerous the virus was. Japan was more or less on lockdown, as no one could certify it was not contagious. The commission even tried to negotiate with some lesser female villains who would have seen their sentence reduced or annulled if they agreed to cooperate. No one answered. No one could or would infiltrate the club. So whoever remained from the top-ten got together at this secret meeting outside the agencies, so they could plan something, once and for all. Well, you were a possibility. And Bakugō HAD to see it. Yet, you still have not convinced the number two hero.

- "Ok, sure. She can go into the front stage, and even give some private dancing. But we all know the Velvet Rose offers more. And we all know this is more likely were the fucking action goes. So, little extra, what do you do if you are asked something more hardcode than this goody-two-shoes-show-for-cherry-boys?" Dynamight was tapping his fingers over some photos.

- "Wh… what do you mean?" Deku was nervously flipping the report. Poor lamb. You went to him and pulled the adequate pages. You were still in your bra and as you titled over him to get him up to speed, he got a good view of your cleavage. He stopped talking then.

- "Oh, you mean like… dominatrix rooms and such?" You filled Deku with the missing piece of info.

- "For example." Bakugō gave you a blank stare. He was not mocking you. Or he had the best poker face ever. Considering how he used to yell and scream, you were tempted to judge in favour of a real professional assessment. One more time, he was not wrong to question you. You needed to be able to go everywhere at the club. In fact, you could not get stuck dancing on the main stage. You needed to approach the darkest patrons and try to uncover the real activities behind the curtains. And this was the point you were starting to loose sight of the shore and to enter unknown territories. You used to be an exotic dancer, nothing more. BDSM and other spicy or hardcore stuff were not your area of expertise. Yet, you were not naive. And this was not for pleasure. There was a mission. You needed to toughen up.

- "Oh… well, this should be easy." You started to pull a chair from the table over the centre of your current stage, hoping you were not betraying your inner doubts.

Now, some quick thinking. Who to test your skills on? Deku was out of the question. While he was approaching his 28 or 29th birthday, he gave you virgin vibes. From the gossips at the agency, you knew he was no longer involved with Uravity. And Bakugō kind of looked down on him. So not only was he more prone to be too soft for your trial, but Bakugō would rejected the conclusions all together because it was Deku. Kaminari-san was also not an option. You wanted to keep good relationship with your boss, especially since he was your mentor's probable-soon-to-be boyfriend. Let's not blur lines. Kamui Woods? You knew nothing of him. As far as you could tell, he had no kink and was literally made of wood. How to play with this? Endeavour? He was old enough to be your father, possibly your grand-father. After all, you were two years younger than Shōto, who was already his last child. So double nope for them old boys. Maybe Shōto. Ah, he was cute. Would make things easier but… his quirk was partially ice. What if he had some strange resistance to deviant fantasy? And it would be wicked to arouse him through dark kinks in front of his father. So, only two choices remained and you sure were not going to pick up Bakugō.

- "Hawks?" You called out with a sweet and innocent voice. "Want to be a good hero and save a damsel in distress?" You patted the back of the chair, mentioning to come and sit.

- "Aw, if duty call…" He kept silence for a long second or two, before chuckling as he got on his feet and moved towards you. Closing on you, the red feather hero gave you his signature look, half amused, half serious. He was playing along, but you felt he was not his usual care-free self. He was clearly searching your face for signs of discomfort. If needed, he would shut this down. So you shook your head. No, no need for some saving. You had this. Would it be enough, that was another question.

- "Do I need a save word?" He nonchalantly asked as he sat in the chair, taking time to arrange his wings against and around the leather back, spreading his legs in front of him, crossing his ankles, all in a relaxed posture. You could not tell if your previous show had any effect on him. Fuck. It would have been easier if he had been like half-hard. Or a quater-hard. You were moderate into your ambitions.

- "I don't think so, Sweety. As long as you keep being a good little hero, I won't have to be a bad little girl." You cooed back at him, already playing the part given to you. He took a sharp inhale, before smirking.

- "What if I want to be a bad little hero?" He asked as you turned the chair so he won't be facing the table, but be sideways to it, since you wanted the pro-heroes to fully see you working your dark magic.

- "Then you'll be in trouble, boy." You purred without missing a beat. You swiftly moved behind him and grabbed a full hand of his hair at the back of his head, pulling hard. His head snapped against the back of the chair. He grimaced and hissed, without you knowing if it was a good hiss or a bad hiss. Though, as a dominatrix, you sure did not care. "Do you want to fight me on this?" You whispered loudly at his ear, so that the room knew what was going on. You slowly licked the round part of his ear shell, up to down, but ended viciously biting on his lobe.

- "I—ah, no!" He jolted and put a hand on his ear, massaging the sore flesh. You did not draw blood. Yet. "Promise, I'll be good." Was he pouting?

- "Good." You elongated your "o" while your bent over his head and shoulder to put a chaste kiss on his lips. Then you lifted your leg and used to momentum to propel yourself over him in a quick move inspired of some pole dancing. Using the armrests as support and drawing on your body core strength, you stopped moments before landing on his laps. Your head was resting on his shoulder, your back separated from his chest by only a hand of thin air. You felt his breath on your cheek and heard the little chuckle once he realised what you have done. He did seem to enjoy it so far. "Sit straight, open your legs." You lashed your orders in a harsh tone. With another silent chuckle, he obeyed. You felt him moving behind you and the mere brushing of his clothes against your bare back sent a wave of fire to your inner part. This was fun! Oh, it would be easy to just forget what it was you were doing. In fact, you did focus on Hawks, choosing to half-forget the six men watching you two. "That's my good boy."

And to reward him, you slowly lowered your hips until your ass was right on his crotch. Taking advantage of this to get into a proper sitting position, you bent forward, breaking all contact if not the one between his groin and your behind. You slowly ground your hips over his pelvis for a mere five seconds before having to stop.

- "I said, sit straight!" You snapped and scolded him. For Hawks had moved forward to close the gap between you and had put a hand on one of your thigh. You stood up, leaving him alone on the chair, and made obvious he was not worth of your attention, presenting your back to him. However, you put your pointy heel on his feet and pushed down. Not so hard to injured him but he totally felt it. So he assumed the previous position, his wings and back against the chair. You turned and looked down at him, with eyes full of contempt – a move taken from Bakugō. The bastard might as well be useful. And you slapped him. Probably harder than you really intended but you were afraid to go too light and break the atmosphere.

The sound was loud in the silence of the room. Hawks was not expecting this and his head jerked to the side. Once again he lifted a hand to put on his slighting throbbing cheek. His captivating golden eyes were dilated and fixed on you now. No trace of amusement can be read on his face. His lips were even a little parted and you could ifeel/i the small gasps leaving his chest. He was about to speak but you beat him to him by planting the same shoe that had attacked his foot earlier right between his open legs. You missed his groin by mere centimetres and he realised it. He had a small, very masculine-fear-driven yelp, and stood completely still and silent. You were inner-ly shaking. You did not plan for any of this, going with the flow and acted before you realised you could have seriously maimed the number three hero, right on his manhood. But well… at least, you were convincing as a dom, right?

- "Hands on the armrests." You ordered as you glared him down. "Next time… I won't miss." And you had a sly smile with a purr, touching your lips with the tips of your fingers as if you were considering something yummy. His wings suddenly fluttered as this threat. Was it fear or excitement? Both? You let your eyes glide down to your shoe and his crotch. Yep, probably both.

One foot down. Bending to him, with one hand on his shoulder, giving him a good look at your boobs. He did look and he put his lips together to wet them. You softly kissed his reddish cheek and your hand pulled at his hair, again. A small moan escaped him but his eyes were still sparkling with something close to challenge. "Don't move." You instructed him with a calm voice, laced with lust and promises. Your lips hovered over his, giving him a phantom kiss as you two exchanged air. Your fingers travelled along his chest to his stomach. They played with the helm of his shirt and trousers, letting him think you were about to touch his skin. Instead you quickly grabbed his semi-erected penis in a tight grip, making sure not to squeeze too hard but to go a bit further than it was agreeable. He grunted a whine, his hand flew to your wrist to stop you from pressuring any more, and you locked eyes. You were absolutely aware that you were playing with the nerves of a man who could kill you in a blink for an eye. In fact, it was remarkable that none of his feathers had pierced your heart already. He was really playing along since you had your hand on the very proof that he was not faking it. Yet, maybe this was the limit he would not cross? Too bad for him, you were a woman on a mission. So, you did not blink and let all the venom dripped from your voice.

- "Bad, bad, bad hero." You put your second hand over his, pulling them away from his groin over your lips. You gave a little kitten lick to his knuckle and he made the mistake to relax. This was the moment you twisted his arm to come bite the tender flesh between the thumb and the wrist. And you did it hard, nearly to the breaking of skin. At the last moment, you shifted to sucking it, using your tongue to soothe the ache. And as the sea changed, you turned back to bitch mode. You dropped his wrist and scowled him with an icy stare. "Tstt, tsst, tsst… Can't follow simple order, Birdie? Oh, you are so not ready for the big boy stuff, then?" His Adam's apple bobbed and he immediately put his hand back to the armrest but it was too late.

You left him in the chair, stepping back. Without a second look, your turned heels and marched to Bakugō, swinging your hips, knowing both of the blonds would look. The younger hero was a bit puzzled as why you approached him, lifting a questioning brow. You ignored him too, simply going over – and giving another guy a direct view on your supple breasts – putting your hands on his belt buckle. You silently worked undoing it. As you did, you could not help but notice he was not as immune to your … expertise… as he was showing. Once you open the buckle, you tugged at it, indicating your desire to acquire the piece of leather. He obliged by lifting his hips, a new smudge smile on his lips as you crossed eyes. Oh, the things you wanted to say, to do, to him. Maybe you were a bit lost on your role-play, but right now, you knew deep down, this Katsuki Bakugō could be cumming from having his balls hard-squeezed the very incorrect way. You would think him a sadist, but he was more likely a masochist.

Yet, he was not the object of your attention. You left Dynamight and the table. Hawks was still sit in the chair, exactly as you wanted him, and he was eyeing the belt you were carelessly swinging round with… was it worry mixed with arousal? Oh, this was a new fun fact. You immediately sprung into action, using the leather to lash at his shin. A loud slap echoed in the room, followed by a guttural grunt. Pain and pleasure, without a doubt. Yet, he did not move. So you recompensed him by sitting on his laps, sideways for him and facing the table. You put soft kisses on his temple, trailing along his cheek to his lips, where you deposit a firm yet pure kiss.

- "That's my good boy." You fondly murmured. He let you put the belt around his neck as you gave him a more audacious kiss, sucking his lips between yours. You leisurely started to tighten the belt with one hand, while still kissing him. He gasped and parted his lips, inviting you to deepen the kiss. You refused his request. Not yet. He was softly panting now and you were feeling the effects of your mistreatments, as his groin was getting hot and hard under you. You had to steal your nerves to prevent your thighs to close on each other, searching for a way to create the friction your core demanded. You used your other hand to trail across his torso and towards his stomach. This time, you let yourself touched his skin, going under his shirt, over his perfectly chiselled abs and belly button. Oh, how cute this belly button was. You could lick it! The thought got the best of you because you let a small moan escape. Ah, back to business! Your kept your nails semi-short since you spent most of your time typing on a computer, but you still had some and you went a little more aggressive with them, leaving red marks after you. The belt around his neck was now started to reach the chocking point. At the same time, you allowed your tongue to caress his teeth and demand access to his mouth. "Are you going to be my hero, now, Hawks?" You asked in a silk whisper.

To this day, you still don't know what pushed him over. The chocking? The prospect of a deeper kiss? His name on your tongue? Only he hold the truth.

- "Yep, yep, yep. No, that is it! She's good, she is good." He just broke character by suddenly sitting up, urging you to your feet by lifting you without missing a heart beat, as if you weighted nothing, and shifting into the chair to adjust himself. It was all done in a playful manner but he certainly was not looking at any of you all.

You squeezed his hand as he released him, letting him know you understood. Leaving him a bit of space, you nearly sauntered to Bakugō, handing him his belt back with a sweet smile.

- "Hawks said I was good."

- "Ain't deaf, kinky girl." Aww, you were promoted with your own nickname. You would have teared some happy tears, if you cared. Instead, you flipped your hair over your shoulder.

- "Told you." Apparently you did a good job at shutting your fact-brain. You still had a death wish. And you would have probably drop dead this instant if Hawks had not come over to hand you your shirt. It had been laying on the floor where you discarded it when you stripped.

- "Here you are, Dove." He told you with a coy smile.

- "Oh thanks. You are truly my hero." You teased as you fixed your appearance. This got you a low growl and a scoff from the feathered hero who shot your a warning look. You sheepishly blushed. Too soon. Death wish would be the death of you.

Someone in the room cleared his throat and Kaminari-san lifted the awkward moment by going for his bottle of water. Life was suddenly bursting into the room, as the heroes started speaking, moving chairs or anything to fill with sound and their presence the room that had been yours and only yours for the last half hour. You simply pushed back the chair previously occupied by Hawks and sat in it. Now you were alone on your side of the table, with all seven pro-heroes in a half oval in front of you. Felt like a trial, really. Or a job interview. Both were correct feelings.

- "You do understand this mission is dangerous." Kamui Woods spoke for the first time in a while. "Not just because of the virus. These people are capable of killing you at the slightest doubt."

- "I do. Believe me, I do." Must you had to state, once more, that you have been on this case for over a year, now? You iknew/i every single aspect of the quirk-altering disease.

At best, you'd get into a coma and would wake up some time after ranking from a few weeks to several months, completely quirkless. Of course, you would have suffered endless pain before, as your DNA seemed to mutate back to "simple human" coding. Some people would "luckily" ended with some alterations to their quirk, and needed to relearn the uses and limits of their powers. In general, their quirk would be less powerful but also less precise. DNA was damaged in a way scientists could not understand. It just reeked of Garaki Kyūdai and his experiments on meta powers. You were not sure what it was since this part of the Great Villains War was top-secret, well above your pay grade. You just believed your bosses, who actually fought All for One and Shigaraki, along Deku and Dynamight. You also guessed that something more was at play, since this meeting was hold in secret, away from the Hero Public Safety Commission. The institution had risen from its ashes since the end of the War, but clearly, things were not as smooth as it seemed.

Yet, this was not the most concerning. For, in the worst cases – and unfortunately, worst was currently the norm – the disease would shift your quirk into something uncontrollable, while you were conscious, and you would be powerless to stop yourself. If you were lucky, you would die quickly, before you had too much destruction or blood on your hands. Luck was running thin, these days. Heroes were not here to give you a coup de grâce. And risking to be infected as they did so. So far, Le Million, Mirko, Cellophane, Red Riot, Earphone Jack and Pinky had fallen. All were diligently cared for at the best hospital, put into a coma before anything could happen to their quirks. All other heroes were on the look out while being very nervous. You could not imagine what would happen if Dynamight were contaminated and was to loose control of his explosions. Would anything survive a major blast?

What made things worst than it was already was the total lack of clues. How was this virus created? When? Who? And most of all, how did you catch it? It was not a natural disease, all labs had agreed on this. It was engineered by human hands, with some terrible, terrible goal. Who, where? The why did not really matter right now. It had to be stopped, that is all.

You could not help but always be surprised you got involved into this case. It made no sense. However, Earphone Jack was the first to find something. She had been working on another mission, one about a new drug that was messing with people senses. They would be found completely off their mind, wondering around, as if they had more than abused marijuana or other calming drugs. However, this state was first preceded by some active sexual phase. Over the months, rapes and sexual aggressions, public displays, flashing sand all sort of sexual deviances were noted. Jiro-san investigated and eventually she noticed that all the first victims of the quirk-altering disease had taken this new drug, or been in contact with it at some point. Well, you noticed. It was your job to cross-analyse data. Whatever. Your worked for the Squad, you were assigned to Earphone Jack at this point, so your results were her success. She tracked down the drug and found the Velvet Rose.

Funny how things were never what one could expected. You would not have bet that behind this badly rococo-styled facade, there was a drug labs, or a drug ring. You would have pictured some deserted warehouses or underground facilities. Never mind. Into the belly of this beast, you'd find the truth, and hopefully, the solution.

And if these guys were letting such a lethal virus out, you could bet that killing a spy would not be an issue for them. Not lost sleep over your dead body. This was probably the most terrifying. To think humans could go to such extremities to destroy life. Knifes and guns were out-dated. Quirk violence not enough. They had to create a virus that would prompt self and mass destruction.

- "I still think it is a bad choice." Bakugō was really reluctant to let you participate. "I don't care she is good. That she works for us. She is a civilian. Not her place." Most people would think he wanted to keep the glory for himself, but you were partial to see this as him caring. The Squad had always talked about his constant failure to convey the right feelings.

As far as he was concerned, heroes were here exactly to do the dirty work needed to keep people save. They trained for years to do what was necessary, so the rest of the world could live their boring little life, none the wiser about the horrible reality surrounding them.

- "We don't have a choice, that's what it is about." Endeavour repeated. "Honestly, I don't like it more than you. She is under prepared. But time is running out, and she is the best we have."

- "If we messed up with her – no offence, really…. We would blow up our chances to investigate." Shōto stressed out this possibility.

- "No offence." You gave in a small nod. Really. You agreed. Again. "Well, you could always come and do a run down of the place, if things got bad. But let me try first. At least, I can give you something. As for the disease… My quirk is totally insignificant. I don't mind losing it, and I really don't think it could cause any damage if I lost control." You offered as reassurance.

- "You… don't mind losing it?" Deku's voice seemed void of any emotions. Strange, but well, maybe someone as powerful as he was had difficulties getting why one would not care about their quirk.

- "Nope."

- "Why? What is it?"

- "I am partially butterfly." Bakugō scoffed but Kaminari-san kicked him in the shin. No quirk shaming allowed. "Yeah, I know. Lame." Thank boss, but not worth your energy.

- "Where are your wings, kinky girl? And your antennas?"

- "As I said. Partially. No wings, no antennas."

- "So, shitty quirk all the way?"

- "Ain't I lucky, right?"

- "What is your name, young lady?" You had bowed and introduced yourself at the beginning of the meeting, but the heroes had forgotten about you. Endeavour's question only got a sly smile from you.

- "You can call me Ageha, for this mission."/div

Chapter 1 - /works/56486110