Disclaimer: Not mine. Used without permission or remuneration but with as much love and respect as Sweeney has for his friends; and given the nature of the prompts, I should probably state that I am not affiliated with Black Phoenix Alchemy Lab, either.
This is a series of one-shots written for the LiveJournal community 6impearfics, where the prompts are BPAL's descriptions of their perfumes. The first one is Bliss: A shot of pure, self-indulgent euphoria! A scent that is very, very wicked in its own way: the serotonin-slathered scent of pure milk chocolate, from the prompt set Sex and Candy.
"Try this, Mr T."
So used now to being her guinea pig, he opened his mouth indifferently, expecting a wooden spoonful of stew. He was used, too, to how she cupped his jaw as she did this, her fingers twisting his hair with intolerable intimacy. The first few times, he hadn't tolerated it, had brushed her off, only to find that it did nothing to discourage her. Now he took the path of least resistance, and waited for her latest concoction.
Instead of a spoon, he got Mrs Lovett's chocolate-covered fingers.
It was sweet, yes, and unctuous – and worse, beneath the chocolate and the black lace of her gloves there was her ("Ain't that nice, dear?" she was murmuring): first her perfume, then the tang of blood and raw meat, the fume of their trade that clung to her day in, day out (as it did to him), and finally – appallingly – her own living flesh.
With a visceral shudder of disgust he wrenched her hands from him, not caring that she stumbled against the counter, ignoring her gasped protest, and marched from the room, back to his own domain.
Mrs Lovett watched him go. Well, that hadn't gone quite as she had hoped, but never mind, there would always be a next time, and meanwhile…
She slid her fingers into her own mouth and savoured the remaining traces of chocolate; and, more, the saliva Mr Todd had left there, sweeter by far than anything she could devise… It was true hunger was the best sauce. God, how she hungered for him.