Pirates of the Caribbean, Jack/Elizabeth, pistol
The muzzle of her pistol presses cold under his jaw, her arm around his neck from behind, and Jack can feel his pulse beating against the metal. He makes himself smile lazily. "What now, love? Going to hold me for ransom?"
"Oh, I have a better idea," Elizabeth says, her voice amused and dangerous. "Get on your knees, Jack."
"I might have done it if you'd just asked me prettily," Jack says, but he slides down to his knees as she steps round to face him, lifting his chin with the cold metal. She stands with her legs wide like it's a cock between her legs and not a pistol, and for a moment he thinks she's going to make him suck it.
He's not sure he wants to do that, so he gives her what she wants and lets his breath quicken and meets her eyes with his wide dark ones.
"I don't have to ask prettily," Elizabeth says, drawing the muzzle of the pistol down the curve of his neck and over the sharp angle of his collarbone to rest against his breast where sometimes she spreads her hand against his skin. He knows she wants him excited and a little bit afraid, and since she's killed him once already, he thinks he can manage that.
Jack smiles, feeling his heart pounding in his chest. "You may be right."
"Now use your mouth," she demands, and since she hasn't specified the pistol, he undoes her breeches and wraps his hands round the back of her thighs, spreading her folds with his tongue. He's hard and breathless, tasting her heat and hoping the pistol in her hand isn't loaded.
She cries out and tries to fuck his mouth, and he sucks her like his life depends on it. It's her substitute for all the things she's only lately realized she could do with a pistol in her hand, and he hopes for the sake of the men she takes prisoner that it's substitute enough.
When she's satisfied, her thighs shaking with the aftermath of her pleasure, she still has the pistol pointed at his chest. "Now get yourself off for me."
"Anything you want," he says, undoing his breeches. He knows this is the only way she can make him, the way he could so easily make her, and so he strokes himself to the rhythm of his heart pounding in his chest and looks his death in the face and tries not to look away.