My Best Friend's Ex | Steve Harrington x Reader

Season 3 - Russian Prisoners

"Who do you work for?"

"I already told you. I work for the Gap."

Two Russian soldiers in uniform stood over me in a small, cold room. My hands were cuffed on my lap as I sat on a concrete bench, staring up at the men, one noticeably older. We'd been going over the same routine for at least an hour; them asking me who I work for; me telling them; them not believing me. So far, they hadn't laid a hand on me.

"The Gap," the older one repeated in a thick Russian accent, his beady eyes burning holes into my head.

"Yes, the Gap," I groaned, "Do you have a hearing impairment, or something? Is that why you can't get this minuscule detail into your thick head?"

He stared down at me, face blank, "How did you get in?"

I looked up at him through my eyelashes, biting down on my lip, not knowing what to say. Of course, I could make something up, but I didn't know what Steve was telling them, and if our stories didn't line up, we could get into serious trouble - even more so than we already were.

Steve, I thought to myself, his face drifting through my head. We had been taken to separate rooms once we were caught, and I really hoped he was okay.

"Answer!" The older soldier spat at me, his voice filled with rage.

I jumped and immediately launched into some bullshit story, "My- uh, my friends received a faulty order with missing stock... so we wandered down to the loading dock to see if the rest of the order was there. And, you know, the room was open so we went in to see if, um, it was there, and the door closed behind us and then we were... down... here."

"You mean to tell me that you just, 'wandered,' in here?" The younger soldier was now looking down at me, as well, his eyes narrowed.

I blinked, "...Yes."

There was a beat of silence where they stared at me, and I stared back, until it was broken by the both of them bursting into laughter.

I looked between them, eyebrows raised as they doubled over in laughter.

"'Yes,'" the younger soldier mocked, seemingly wiping a tear from his eye. I truly didn't understand what they were laughing about, so I just watched.

After a moment, the laughter died down. The older soldier then crouched down in front of me, a smile still plastered on his lips as he met my gaze. I held in a grimace, noticing how he smelled of cigars and booze, and looked anywhere but at him.

His lips suddenly snapped back into a frown, "Who do you work for?"

I stared at him, disbelieving, "The Gap, you numb nut! My God, is it really that hard to-"

My sentence was cut off by a sharp smack ringing through the room, and it took me a second to register the stinging pain blooming across my cheek. I swallowed hard as I realized my head was turned to the side, my body having jumped to the side on impact.

I stayed there for a moment, shocked. For some reason, I hadn't thought they would actually hurt me, and I prayed that Steve was alright, knowing full well that they'd probably only held out on me because I was a girl.

Slowly, I turned my face back up to the men, my jaw clenched in anger, as they watched me. They were both still, as if wanting to see how I would react.

When I stayed silent, the soldier spoke, "Who do you work for?"

Instead of answering, this time, I leaned in so that our faces were only inches apart and spat right into his eye. A satisfied smirk came across my face as he fell back onto the ground, his hand coming up to his face.