The Expendables One Shots and Imagines

Little games - Part 1 - Jean Vilain x Reader

This is a request for _80s_Guys_Lover_. It my first Vilain imagine, so I hope that you all enjoy.

Vilain looked at the mercenary across the table from him. A small smile pulling at the corners of his lips as he watched her every move. He had met many ex-soldiers, disgruntled agents, and terrorists in his time. But the woman that was currently mulling over his proposition, was truly one of a kind.

Most mercenaries were not what you would ever call subtle. They were good with a gun, a knife, or even their fists. But in the brains department, well.......to put it nicely, they were lacking. Yet Vilain liked them like that. They asked no questions, did as they were told, and died if they made a mistake. A hundred more, ready to take their place. The men expendable, just like the pawns in a game of chess. But not (Y/n). She was a very different kettle of fish.

Most of the time, she was little more than a ghost. A phantom that appeared as if from nowhere, before vanishing as quickly as she had materialised. Leaving many to question as to whether she had even been there in the first place. She was an exquisite enigma. A riddle wrapped in a puzzle, wrapped inside a conundrum. And Vilain couldn't help but wonder what it would be like to crack the mystery that was (Y/n).

He himself wasn't completely sure what her background was. Where she had come from, or even if (Y/n) was her real name. All he knew, was that she had friends in very high, and very low places. A long reach, and a surprising amount of influence. Vilain sure that a little blackmail, might also be in her bag of tricks. The leader of the Sang, positive that the beautiful woman before him, could lure any man to his doom.

"It's a very interesting scheme, Vilain. But, if you haven't heard, I don't work well with others. And to be brutally honest. I wouldn't trust you or your bunch of social misfits, even if my life depended on it. They are all socially maladjusted, and act before they think. Though I doubt any of them can actually think, given that their blood must be 100% proof, Russian vodka. And the worst, the very worst is your little pal, Hector. That guy is too handy with his knife, for his, or anyone else's good. I don't like that. And I don't like the idea of having to watch my back. That, and I don't play with plutonium. I am lots of thing, Vilain, but I am no terrorist." (Y/n) told the Sang leader. Throwing the file back across the table at him.

"That is such a shame, (Y/n). I had hoped that you and I could combine forces. That we could get to know one another better. Much better." Jean hummed, as he looked over the top of his dark glasses at her. A small smile pulling at his lips.

"I don't combine forces, and I certainly don't get to know people better. Now, if you don't mind, I far better things to do." (Y/n) told him, as she got up from her chair and made her way over to the door.

"That is such a shame, (Y/n). But I am afraid that I will have to insist that you stay. I can't have you running around with the knowledge of what I am going to be doing, can I. So, perhaps you should retake your seat, and get comfortable." Vilain hummed. The Sang leader excited, as (Y/n) tuned to glare at him. The fire in her eyes setting every one of his sense on edge. The thought that the beautiful mercenary could possibly kill him at any moment, strangely thrilling.

"Look, Vilain. I don't give a shit about your little job. I don't give a damn if you blow yourself and your lackies to smithereens. I have no intention of telling anyone about your plans. I am known for my discretion. And I think that you will find that you can't stop me from leaving. So, goodbye." (Y/n) hissed before turning back to the door and throwing the ingress open. The mercenary sighing as there in the doorway stood a very smug looking Hector, and two very large Sang goons, armed with semi-automatic guns, right behind him.

"As I said, (Y/n). I can't let you do that. Instead, I would like you to be my guest for the foreseeable future. During which time, I am sure we will have ample opportunity to become more acquainted." Vilain replied, as he got to his feet. Moving so that he stood behind her. (Y/n) turning and finding herself almost face to face with the Sang leader.

"And if I turn down this, 'invitation'?" (Y/n) enquired, as she moved even closer to Jean. Her chest now pushed up against his. Vilain finally removing his glasses and looking deep into her eyes.

"Well then, I am afraid that my maladjusted, social misfits might just have something to say about it." Vilain replied, as he lay his gloved hand on her cheek. The two large men entering the room and grabbing her arms tightly.

"I assure you, (Y/n). Being my guest won't be as bad as you think. Take the lady to the house. Make sure that nothing happens to her, or you will answer to me." Vilain told the two men. The pair escorting the reluctant (Y/n) from the room, as Hector moved to stand by his boss's side.

"Are you sure that this is a good idea? She's dangerous. She..........."

"You're right, Hector. She is dangerous. And that is what makes her so beautiful. That is what makes the chase so much more fun. By the time we are ready to move, I will have convinced her to help us. And I will have unravelled the riddle that is our little mercenary." Vilain interrupted. The terrorist leader making his way out of the room leaving Hector behind. The henchmen, not sure that Vilain was actually thinking with his head anymore. And given that, that it might just be Vilain that became unravelled.

                                                           >>--------------------------------<<

The two big men pushed (Y/n) into the large open room. (Y/n) spinning around and punching one of them on the jaw. The man stumbling backwards as his sidekick pointed his gun at (Y/n)'s head. Hissing to her to get back. The pair locking the door behind them as they left the female mercenary in the rather elegant room. (Y/n) wasn't surprised that Vilain had managed to "acquire" the rather large and grand house that she now found herself in. From what she knew of the Sang leader, this was sort of his style. The mercenary not surprised that his hideout looked more like a stately home than anything else.

(Y/n) sighed as she quickly made her way over to the glass and wood doors, that obviously led out onto a small balcony. The mercenary kicking at the doors as she found them firmly locked and bolted. She knew that she was high up. That she was too high up to make a jump for it. But if she could just get out onto the balcony, there may be a drainpipe that she could shimmy down. Or she could even try the old trick of tying bedsheets together. Yet at this present moment in time, unless she could find something to try and pick the locks, she might just be stuck where she was. For a short while at least.

She was determined to not remain Vilain's "guest" for any longer than she had too. And even though she had never considered herself a snitch, or an informant. That didn't mean that she didn't know a few people. That she didn't know people in certain places. People that would be interested to know what Vilain had planned in his twisted little mind. But she needed time to make her own plan. She was just one against Jean's army. Though she did have to admit that she did like those odds. And if she could ruin Vilain's scheme, then that would only add to her own reputation.

Moving away from the door to the balcony, (Y/n) made her way over to the large four poster bed, that sat proudly against the long back wall. The mercenary shaking her head as she saw an elegant gown had already been lain out on top of the mattress. It now obvious that whatever she had decided at their little meeting, this was where Vilain had every intention of her being. The small note attached to the dress, telling her to put it on, and that he would be expecting her later, for dinner. (Y/n) finding herself smiling, as she thought of a new way to get out her precarious situation. And if this was how Vilain wanted to play it, then (Y/n) was more than happy to beat him at his own little game.