Peaky Blinders Smoke Novels & Stories

The cold breeze blew the thin wisps of smoke in front of him away, making him appear unreal. "Did you smoke?" I asked with a frown. Pete brandished a cigarette between his fingers. Bringing to his lips, he took a long drag to the point that his cheeks hollowed out. The cigarette burned quickly, and half of it was gone in one puff. "Why are you smoking so heavily?" "This is the last one." He grinned after exhaling a puff of smoke, and then the camera angle shifted to his toes. He flicked the cigarette to the ground and extinguished it with his foot.

He turned quickly to Jarrod and blinked. Jarrod ransacked the top of the table, searching for something. He finally brought out a pack of cigarettes and passed a stick to Hayden. Hayden shook his head and stuck his own hands in his pocket, extracting his neatly wrapped weed. Jarrod smiled at the sight, amused to see that his brother wasn’t taking another chance with him. “I didn’t poison the cigarette, if that’s what you’re thinking.” Hayden placed his wrap on his lips and lighted it. “That’s not it. I prefer weed to nicotine. Call it a natural disaster, if you will. Besides, I know you can very well play it off and put a substance in there.”

he asks, once again urging her outside. “Since when do you smoke?” He laughs. “Since I met you.” “Ha ha, so funny. I’ve never seen you smoke before, even after meeting me.” “It’s not something I do regularly, it’s similar to when people drink to drown their sorrows. I smoke to choke my anxiety, same shit different pile.” “Does Noel know you smoke?” Harken shakes his head. “That, and everything else I’m about to tell you, you’re going to keep to your damn self, understand? None of this reaches Noel’s ears, or I’m denying everything and putting the blame on you.”

And I hate the heat. Give me a fucking storm cloud, some thunder and lightning, and the fucking rain, and I'll be all set. The smoke from the cherry of my cigarette brightens as I suck on the filter, the smoke wafting right in my eyes, making them water immensely. My retinas burn as I squeeze my lids, trying to allow my vision to return. I wipe the water away from them and drop the butt to the ground. Using the sole of my shoe, I snuff out the cigarette, crushing the remnants of it into the pavement. I slide the thick blunt that's tucked behind my ear out and put it between my lips, eyeing a police car as it drives by as I light the end. The smoke invades my lungs and sends me into a coughin

Bryce's voice trailed off when his eyes landed on the painting that lay on the desk. He stood up and walked towards it. Picking it up, he said, "Damien, look. This is the painting I talked about. He spent so much on it because it reminded him of a–" "Bryce shut up!" Blake quickly interrupted. "And what's that smell on you? Do you still smoke?" He asked, trying to change the topic. "I don't smell and I stopped smoking. Not after that fire. Even if I smoked, I still won't sell because I'd use a cologne." Bryce retorted, dipping his hands in the front pockets of his pants as he walked back to his seat.

Once you make that right move, you settle down, your mind and body relaxing automatically. I crushed the butt of my cigar on the concrete as I stood and stretched my back and neck. I wasn’t a regular smoker but I liked to indulge now and then, it was a habit I picked up from watching Peaky Blinders and it’s stuck. I could hear the siren going off in the distance, I wondered what crime had been committed this time. It was becoming a daily occurrence, people were scared to leave their houses when dusk fell but not me. I glanced at my watch, it was almost time. I dusted my denim jeans as I hurriedly crossed the hallway and made my way to the patio where I was waiting for a call that would mean

And no, it wasn't because of the smoke. Damn it Blondie, what the f u c k did you do to me? * * * - - - To Be Continued - - -

I asked feeling annoyed, as I waved my hands trying to dissipate the smoke. “Oh, hi Rory," she said, sounding very zoned out. I rolled my eyes because I knew she was most definitely very high right now. “You know this isn't allowed right. What if you triggered the smoke detector? Why didn't it trigger the smoke detector?" I asked, wondering at the amount of smoke in the room. “You could get kicked out, or worse, expelled!!" I added. “You need to chill out. You might need some of this," she said passing me a blunt.

Don opens the door, and thick smoke spills out. “Shit,” I cough. What the hell is going on here? I see some familiar faces, taking turns with a blunt. Then some unfamiliar faces… The blunt makes its way around the circle until it reaches us, and Don takes a deep breath with it in between her lips. She offers it to me. At first, the germophobe and goody-two-shoes in me wants to decline. But what the hell? I should live a little—so I settle for a contact high and send the blunt in the next direction.

"Immortal or not, you are using them occasionally. You are going to be addicted because they can smell sweet. It's no wonder the smell of the smoke is sweet. " "Relax," he states and makes it some big deal, but when I notice something odd about his fingers. I grab them as he struggles to break free from me. "Yeye, what the hell is this?" Three of his fingers have turned black. Yeye pulled away and hid it inside his sleeve. "Nothing for you to worry about, child." "Yeye, I shouldn't ignore it and act like it's nothing," I grab his hand again and study it. I have never seen it, yet Yeye is using the herbs for his smoke pipe. "Are you poison?"