Sanji Smoke Novels & Stories

The smoke from the stick was slowly floating upwards, while the ashes fell on the ground. Dino showed a stiff smile, unconsciously hiding the phone on his back. "Shall I show you out?" The man opposite him let out a laugh before stepping forward. In Dino's eyes, Charles’s steps were threatening, he almost took a step back. But before he can, the man already arrived in front of him. Then, suddenly, he felt a burning sensation on the back of his left hand. Without looking at it, he knew that it was his cigarette. He was using his hand to put out the fire.

“Y-Yes boss.” Mario got off his hand, he rolled his eyes and smoked a cigarette for the second time. _________

Denny moved closer to hand his phone to Don Carlo. "Well, the hair and face could change, but the way he detailed the feature doesn't resemble this one," Don Carlo said. He gave the photo a good gaze and shook his head slowly. "The guy also mentioned that Lady Red smokes non-stop; this face is not of someone who has a smoking habit. I have been around, mingling, and doing business with people from the tobacco industry, so I know how to differentiate non-smokers from one," he added as he gave back the phone to Denny.

The club suddenly filled with thick smoke. Coughs erupted all around, spreading fast. People stumbled, choking, their laughter turning into panic. The man behind Serena gagged harder than the rest, clutching his throat as the air grew heavy. And in the smoke ,silver eyes burned. Serena froze mid-dance, her heartbeat slamming in her chest. The air carried something she recognized instantly. That scent of jasmine and burning wood. Her mind spun, the haze of alcohol breaking for just a second. She turned slowly toward the source, blinking through the mist.

Hadeon laughed, “Oh, Suki, please. I’m not much older than you – what, like 4 or 5 years? You can skip the formalities with me. Call me Hadeon.” Suki nodded. “Of course.” He stepped closer to her, watching her carefully as he pulled out a pack of cigarettes from his pocket. Opening the pack, he offered it to her, “Smoke?” “No, thank you,” she cleared her throat, “my father would murder me if I smoked. Plus, I’m not a fan of the smell.” She tapped the tip of her nose before leaning against the edge of the brick wall. A soft scoff escaped his lips as he put the pack away. “Ah, of course, enhanced senses can be such a bitch.”

Circles of cut tobacco floated out, and the smell of cigar was very strong. An Taotao frowned in disgust. She hated the smell of smoke, and it was unhealthy. "Hey, Miss An." Huang Chen put out his cigarette and threw it away as he called out. An Taotao nodded, her beautiful eyes looking around quietly. Apart from Huang Chen, she didn't see anyone else.

Jim would kill him if what Rani had broken was something important - he'd practically begged to take the cat along with them. Through a slit in the grey curtains, he saw Shuan lean against the car and light a fat cigar. West had requested him for a puff of the Cohiba way too many times, but Shuan hadn't budged. He'd found that people smoking fat cigars often appeared pretentious, but it suited Shuan marvellously. Shuffling to the desk, he grabbed the flask resting on its shiny wooden surface and poured half of the water from it into Rani's bowl, but the cat shot him a withering look.

“Now let Kuro go.” Santigo chuckled, rising slowly from his seat. He walked over to the briefcase and flipped it open. The sight of neatly stacked banknotes didn’t seem to faze him, “Ah, lovely,” he murmured; instead, he pulled a lighter from his pocket, flicking it on with a soft click. “What—” Danial started, but his words caught in his throat as Santigo tossed the lit lighter onto the money. Flames roared to life instantly, consuming the bills. The acrid smell of burning paper filled the room as the fire crackled hungrily.

Smoke curled upward against the lamp light. He leaned back, exhaling lightly as if every thought weighed on him burned at the top of the cigarette. “You want to know something about a Sobranie?” He murmured. “It's rare, expensive but it burns out just the same. Doesn't matter who's holding it.” Ariel folded her arms. “That's supposed to mean something?” His eyes cut to hers through the veil of smoke, pointed and unreadable. “Everything means something.” For a moment silence hung thick between them, broken only by the faint hiss of the cigarette. Ariel hated how even this, even the act of smoking looked powerful in his hands. He wasn't smoking for pleasure but for control, punctuation and the

My mind was a jumbled mess, and if I didn't calm down, I might just storm in there and put a fucking bullet in that rat's head. "Give. Me. A. Smoke," I barked, punctuating each word. Salvio swallowed hard, his eyes darting nervously around us before producing a pack of cigarettes from his pocket. I glared at the pack, my distaste for the brand evident. But I had no choice; I needed a smoke, any smoke at all. Salvio's hands trembled slightly as he brought out his matches and struck the stick against the box. The flame danced in the air, and I hesitated for a moment before letting Salvio light the cigarette pressed between my lips.