The Expendables One Shots and Imagines

Little games - Part 3 - Vilain x Hector x Reader

My apologies for taking so long to update this story. Though I do hope that you enjoy.

Hector couldnt help but watch the seductive sway of (Y/n)s hips, as she made her way down the staircase. He had to admit that she was a beautiful woman. And he could well understand why Vilain had thrown all caution to the wind and had fallen under the female mercenarys spell. Hector, like all others in their line of work, had heard the stories surrounding (Y/n). The myths and legends. About how dangerous she was. About how those exquisite features concealed the fierce and deadly creature that lay at her heart. A mercenary that seemed to be able to appear and disappear in the blink of an eye. A beautiful woman that.

Really Hector. I swear I can feel your eyes burning into me. Do you really like what you see, that much? (Y/n) suddenly asked, as she, Hector and the goons got to the bottom of the stair. (Y/n) stopping and turning. A broad smile spreading across her lips, as Hector almost bumped into her.

You do know, I didnt put this dress on just for your boss, dont you? I actually put it on to see what you would do. Whether you would forget all about your orders, and just take me there and then in that room. I know you want to. I know that you want to rip this dress from my body, and bend me over the nearest piece of furniture. That you want to know what I feel like. And I must admit that I would like that too. That I most certainly wouldnt say no to anything that you may have in mind. (Y/n) hummed seductively, as she pressed her chest firmly up against Hectors. One of her hands gently reaching up into his hair, while her other took one of his, and placed it on her thigh. (Y/n) slowly moving it up so that it sneaked up just under the hemline of her dress. Hector finding himself gulping, as she let out a soft lewd moan. The Henchman fighting back the need to do exactly what she had just described. To not give a damn about the fact that Vilain wanted her. To not care that others were watching..

Hector! A growling voice suddenly exclaimed. The men and (Y/n) turning to see Jean glaring at them.

Aaah, such a shame. We were just getting so close. I am sure that we could have lots of fun together you and I. But its never too late, Hector. And you do have access to my rather grand cell. So, perhaps we can finish this another time. (Y/n) whispered into his ear. Her hand brushing across his crotch, before she turned to look at Vilain.

Mein host. My prison warder. How nice to see you again Vilain. (Y/n) chuckled, as she made her way over to where the head of the Sangs stood in the doorway, continuing to glare at Hector.

Oh, dont be too hard on dear, sweet Hector, Vilain. I do have a terrible habit of teasing. And men like Hector, are just so much fun to tease. (Y/n) explained, as she took hold of Jeans chin and turned his head to look at her.

Now, I do hope that I havent put this dress on for no good reason. I wouldnt want to be disappointed. So, where is the champagne? I do so hope that its a good vintage. (Y/n) added, as she pushed her way past Jean, and made her way into the room behind him. Her eyes falling on the large table that had been set for two people. Fine bone china plates, and silver knives and forks catching the flicker of the dancing candlelight. The ornate candelabra standing proudly on the old oak table.

Very impressive, Vilain. Very impressive. You certainly know how to make an impression on a girl. (Y/n) chuckled, as she made her way over to the table. Her fingers brushing softly over the highly varnished surface.

I could say the same about you. Vilain hummed, as he looked (Y/n) up and down. His eyes taking in every dip and curve. Every swell and inch of exposed flesh. He had to admit, that despite being sure that the dress would be perfect on the mercenary, what was actually stood before him was even more perfect than he could ever have imagined. The silken black gown, appearing to have been tailored just for her. As if the designer had created it with just her in mind. And he couldnt help but let his mind wander to the possibilities of what lay beneath the dark material.

Why thank you, Vilain. Though I do think that you are partly responsible for this. The dress is quite beautiful. Although what is underneath it, you can thank me for entirely. (Y/n) replied, as she made her way back over to him. Her hands reaching up and straightening the collar of his shirt.

Well, I dont know about you, Vilain. But Im hungry. Surprisingly, being locked up seems to have given me quite an appetite. (Y/n) continued. Slowly removing the hand that the Sang leader had just tried to slip under her skirt.

Please Vilain. I am far from that easy. I like a gentleman to wine and dine me. To have wonderful things lavished upon me, before I would even think about the possibility of allowing you to try and get to first base, never mind third base. So, what do you say to starting the wining and dining part, and we shall see where the rest of the evening takes us? (Y/n) smiled. Allowing Vilain to take her over to one of the chairs. The terrorist leader pulling out the seat so that she could sit down.

Of course, where are my manners. Vilain replied, as he carefully pushed (Y/n)s seat back under the table, before clicking his finger. (Y/n) watching as a terrified looking young woman stepped forward, holding a sliver tray with two glasses on it. The female mercenary taking it slowly. Smiling slightly at the young woman.

(Y/n) wasnt really surprised at the turn of events. That if Vilain have managed to procure this elegant home from its true owners, then he must have also used his Sang thugs to scare the people of the surrounding towns and villages. To force them to be quiet. To force them to provide the services they needed. (Y/n) hoping that serving at the table was the only service that this poor girl had been forced to provide.

Now, (Y/n). Why dont you tell me all about yourself? Vilain asked, as he took the other glass from the girls tray and sat down across from her. (Y/n) having a feeling that this evening could be much more interesting than she had first thought.