A Trail of Smoke and Smugglers (Santi/PopexReader)

The Devil Himself

[A/N: Hello my lovely readers! I hope you are all doing well and are staying healthy. Here is another chapter for you all! I apologize for the lateness of it and, as always, I hope that you enjoy! -K 🖤]

[🌿This chapter contains swearing, angst, and sexual tension.🌿]
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The car had been silent since we had haphazardly piled in, along with all of our gear, after finalizing the last flight and landing in Brazil. The car, a typical four-door sedan, housed the six of us somewhat comfortably.

Tom and Pope quietly sat as the passenger and driver, respectively. They chatted quietly, not to disturb those who rested behind them, which mainly included Will and Fish. The row behind Tom and Pope, included myself, with Fish on the right and Will on my left.

Benny had requested the last row, knowing that he would have the opportunity to lay across the entire seat. I too wanted the last row, but had to ultimately give into his second request: a battle for the free seat. He had smugly and successfully beat me over three rounds of rock, paper, scissors.

Ben had been reminding me since we had been in the car that he had defeated me, victoriously snickering to himself for several minutes. Every few moments, just when I would get comfortable and relaxed, he would pull lightly on my hair to extinguish the silence of the car and elicit a response from me.

"Benjamin!" I gritted for an unknown time, feeling another gentle tug on my hair. "Stop it or I'm going to roundhouse your ass. Again." I quickly brought my hair over my shoulders and out of his annoying reach.

"I'm gonna roundhouse your ass. Again." He copied me in a childish tone and used his other hand to pull at the other side of my head. "But you still can't beat me in rock, paper, scissors, hon." I grumbled and hurriedly tried to turn from my sitting position to slap him, but was restrained by the seat belt that Fish forced me to buckle.

Ben was chuckling loudly, wearing a bright grin, and slapping his leg in enjoyment as my sneer faltered at seeing him. I couldn't hide my annoyance or my own entertainment at seeing him throw his head back against the window, colliding his head into the glass barrier, and then groaning in pain. He scratched at his scalp as I tilted my head. "Once I get back there, Benjamin Miller, I'm going to shove my foot so far up your stubborn ass-"

"Benny! (Y/N)!" Tom loudly corrected from the front passenger seat. I sighed and turned back into my own seat, now feeling Fish and Will begin to rouse at Tom's commandeering voice. "Enough or I'm having Pope turn this car around." Tom had turned to stare directly at me and then at Ben, whose laughter had faded quickly. Tom squinted in determination and attempt to establish order once more, and then returned back to his original position.

His eyes met mine in the rear view mirror and I sighed in exhaustion, crossing my arms in contempt and objection of his ruling. "Yes, dad." I mumbled, focusing my attention outside of Fish's window that his head was resting on, although now he had been awakened by Tom.

We had been driving for several hours and weren't sure, under Pope's direction and driving, how long before we were in the perimeter of the recon. While they could, each of the guys tried to sleep when possible.

"Don't get an attitude, (Y/N)." Tom scolded, not looking back at me, but simply raised his hand in the middle of the front seats, holding his finger up in correction.

Santi covered his mouth, poorly attempting to hide a laugh, and adjusted his sunglasses, pretending that he was only invested on the road ahead.

"I'm sorry, Tom. I don't have an attitude." Fish snorted beside me and I elbowed him softly. "I just don't understand why I couldn't bring my own equipment." I offered for discussion, watching Pope roll his eyes in the driver's seat from the rear-view mirror. He had purposely pulled down his glasses over the bridge of his nose to expose his eyes.