Bubble Gum Perfume Novels & Stories

I discreetly threw the contents of Queenie's perfume down the toilet and discarded the original porcelain bottle. Over the next few days, Queenie kept throwing quick glances at my desk, confirming the porcelain perfume bottle was still there before nodding in satisfaction. To gain further confirmation, she used any pretext to accompany me to the restroom. Her true intentions were to check whether the perfume had the desired effect on me. Feeling wicked, I sprayed myself with garlic-infused water that carried a slight stench. Queenie was so delighted that her mouth momentarily convulsed in pleasure. She was confident the unpleasant smell meant the perfume was working.

"Madam, you look stunning," Hayley cooed. "There's always someone out there who's prettier than I am. I'm just average," Waverly said. Then, she walked into a perfume store and bought a jasmine and bamboo scent infused perfume. The jasmine smelled sweet, while the bamboo gave off a musky scent. The jasmine was pleasant to the nose, uplifting one's mood. Whereas the bamboo's muskiness could help one calm down. Apart from that, she also bought a few formal suits.

Her knee pounded along with aching limbs and Chantal clenched her shaking hands into fists and imagined a meal and a soft bed waiting at the end of this journey. Gage kissed her head. “I can smell a trace of your perfume.” He kept his lips in place. “That’s surprising, considering the knotted mess on my head.” “That fragrance is familiar… calming… what do you wear?” “It’s a French perfume— L’Artisan Parfumeur Premier Figuier. It has notes of fig, rice, coconut, and sandalwood.” Gage sniffed her head like a basset hound, and she laughed.

Amanda raised her eyes to look at her. Paula couldn't help but envy Amanda's smiling face; it was just too beautiful. One look was enough to leave a lasting impression. Amanda said, "I'm a jewelry designer." She didn't elaborate. Smelling a faint fragrance on Paula, she asked curiously, "Your perfume smells wonderful. Where did you buy it?" This scent seemed to have emerged in the last couple of years, vaguely resembling lilies, with a hint of gardenias in the aftertaste, as well as other herbal notes.

Now, silence lived in the corners of the house. Mark came down late that morning, already dressed, tie knotted tight, jacket folded neatly over his arm. He kissed her on the cheek, and she noticed it faint but unmistakable a scent that didn’t belong to her. It was floral, sharp, and expensive. Jasmine, maybe. Clara’s perfume was sandalwood and bergamot earthy, restrained. This was something younger, brighter. “Morning,” he said, brushing past her to pour coffee. “Morning,” she echoed.

Elara slowly reached inside the dark paper. She pulled out a single, heavily bruised white lily stem. The flower head had been violently crushed, its white petals torn and smeared with dark red residue. As she lifted the broken stem into the air, a sharp, intoxicating scent wafted through the room. It was not the scent of fresh flowers. It was a thick, heavy, unmistakable fragrance of French amber, crushed orchids, and rare musk—the exact, custom-blended Rouge Vane perfume that Lydia had worn every single day of her adult life.

Grandma Gloria didn't mind, and she was just curious. "Yes. What do you think about the scent of this perfume?" They sat behind the dining table with some dishes on the table. "Like a girl's perfume." "It's a perfume that belongs to." Oriaga cleared his throat, almost letting out a sentence that made his stutter. "I purposely bought a sweet-scented perfume like this, Grandmother." "Hmm. Of course, you can try perfume from any brand, and it's up to you." The woman briefly turned to her food, but not for long as she remembered something. "Ah yes, I almost forgot to tell you."

ZANE'S POV By the time I got home that evening, I was already looking forward to seeing my wife. I walked into the penthouse carrying a bouquet of fresh flowers, the familiar scent of Bellissimo's latest men's fragrance still lingering on my shirt. The fragrance was called Bellissimo Obsidian, a deep, warm scent with hints of cedarwood, amber and spice, and judging by how many people had asked me what I was wearing lately, the campaign was already doing exactly what we wanted.

she pouted. "Damn" he exclaimed, walking to her computer to see for himself. He stood behind her and leaned over for a closer view. "You're serious!" He exclaimed. But she wasn't paying attention anymore. No, she wasn't in the slightest. Her mind was occupied with drifting thoughts. She heaved as she took in his scent. He scented of a blend of galbanum, bergamot and mandarin, each fragrance trying so hard to 'outscent' the other.

Ciara asked. "No, thank you," the girl said as she pulled out money from her pocket and placed it on the counter. She then took the pack of cigarettes and headed towards the door. However, just as she approached the exit, she suddenly stopped. Turning her head slightly, she seemed to be sniffing something in the air. Suddenly, the girl looked straight at Ciara and tilted her head, saying, "Your scent is so sweet." Ciara didn't understand what she meant and instinctively raised her shoulder to smell her own body.