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taschamonnii · 2 years

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Imagine This - I’m On Fire

You x Charlie (Charlie Ross - The Little Drummer Girl)

Hurt/Comfort/Smut

Summary: I don't know just think Charlie deserves a happy ending and every time I hear this song I think of her.

TW: 18+, Smut

Here is the title song: I’m On Fire by Gus Dapperton

Read On Ao3

AN: I finally watched all of “the little drummer girl”, and I have no words Florence plays some incredible characters and the show's plot is insanity but her character is everything. Florence has the most astonishing range of emotions I just wanted to give her a happy ending.

Word Count: 1,816

Imagine This:

Charlie didn’t share her past with anyone. She was an actress from London that is all anyone knew or rather that was the only information anyone was supposed to know. You knew more though. You knew everything. You knew she got caught up in a crazy plot. You knew she had been in war camps and was responsible for the death of a few people, so her role in a grand scheme scared her for life. You know about her friend Gadi, how she once loved him, and how he helped her escape to America to live a new life away from all that. You knew all of this because you spent years gaining her trust. Once actresses together to friends to so much more.

Charlie is your everything.

You softly listen to music as you read over lines on the couch. Your hand mindlessly strokes blonde hair. Charlie had dozed off half an hour ago, she hadn’t slept much the night before and you were happy that you had managed to ease her into a nap. She had been overly stressed by a recent project and you were worried. She was having nightmares about her past again and it had been years since she had the nightmares.

You stopped reading as you felt her start to move against your lap. Mumbles are starting to escape her lips and you know she is starting to have a nightmare. You move your body which she is half strewn across trying to wake her. She doesn’t wake and so you softly say her name and squeeze her in your arms.

“Charlie hon, wake up. You are having a nightmare. Charlie.”

Her eyes blinked a few times as she awoke. She squeezed you tightly.

“Y/n” she cried and breathed deeply.

“Sh, you are okay, I’m here, I’ve got you.”

She held onto you as her voice cracked with another sob while she tried to catch her breath. After she caught her breath she moved to be fully in your lap. You knew she needed to be close anchored to this time, this place, to you.

“Y/n I’m so sorry. I-I-”

“Shhh. No. No, you are okay.”

“No, I’m sorry I need to tell you something. I got a postcard in the post, from Gadi. The nightmares are because of him. He got recruited again and I’m worried for him.”

“Oh, hon I’m sorry. Why didn’t you tell me?”

She looked down as a tear streaked down her face.

“Charlie, look at me,” you waited for her gaze to reach yours.

“Charlie, I know you loved him you still love him in many ways, you are allowed to care for him.”

“I just didn’t know how to tell you.”

“What can I do to help you, Charlie?”

“Hold me. Just hold me.”

You held her tightly in your arms and ran your fingers over her soft skin and into her hair. You wished there was something you could do. You know all about the complicated relationship and how it didn’t work out because of fiction mixing with reality. That is why you are always transparent with Charlie and why she trusts you. There is no fiction with you just the truth.

You held her for what could have been hours or only a few minutes. Time didn’t matter you’d hold her for all time if you could. She sighed and sat up. “Why are you so good to me?”

Her face was tear-stained and your heart shattered at the way she looked at you. Her green seemed to sparkle when they were filled with tears. You softly swiped your thumbs over her cheeks making her eyes close. Her body relaxed into your touch. She grabbed your hands as you went to pull away and kissed your palms.

You moved your hands back to her face and moved slowly to capture her lips in a soft kiss. A kiss you hoped would answer her question. A kiss full of love and caring. A kiss you reserved for times like this when she needed reassurance. She kissed back with more of a need. Her lips so soft and plump moved against yours demanding more. She pushed your shoulders making you sit back against the couch and her body followed to straddle you. Her mouth opened as she captured your bottom lip with the help of her tongue. Your hands moved to her outer thighs to steady her on top of you. You knew seeking pleasure was a normal go-to when dealing with strong emotions. Charlie once told you she thought pleasure was the antidote to life before realizing love was the antidote. You were more than happy to provide her with the antidote right now. You matched her passionate kisses and pulled her in closer.

She moaned into the kiss as you firmly grabbed her ass and pulled her into you. You knew exactly what she needed. She moved her hands to tangle into your hair and she tugged your head back so she could trail kisses down your throat. You shivered as her teeth scraped along your neck. She lightly bit and sucked and licked your neck. She needed you to know she loved you and that she chose you. You allowed her to show you melting into the feelings. Your hands moved her hips helping her grind on your lap. She groped your breasts roughly and you knew she needed you so you quickly took more control.

You moved your hands from her ass to the front of her loose shorts, easily slipping inside the front. You smirked at the discovery that she wasn’t wearing anything else. You licked your lips before whispering “tell me what you need.”

Her green eyes were setting your entire body ablaze. She had a knack for using her facial expressions and eyes to communicate without words, that is one of the main things that made her such a talented actor. Those eyes were not enough, not when she had just been crying you needed words. “Use your words baby. I need to hear what you need.”

“I need you to make love to me. I need you to make me feel whole again. Please.”

You took your free hand up to her cheek and brushed your thumb across it. “I love you, Charlie.”

“I love you too.”

You pulled her in closer and kissed her as you slid your fingers through her slick heat. Her hips continued to grind against you as you gave her clit the attention it needed. She sucked in a breath of air as you did tight circles. You could tell that she was close already and picked up the pace until she was gripping your shoulders, nails scratching any skin she could get to, and hands almost tearing your shirt. Her thighs squeezed around you tight and you eased your pace letting her ride out the pleasure. She rested her forehead on yours for only a moment before you captured your lips once again. She kissed you with desperation. You knew she needed more and you wanted to give it to her. She broke the kiss and quickly removed her shirt tossing it aside then she hastily removed yours. She leaned into you fully kissing you roughly as your skin connected.

You grabbed her ass with your free hand and lifted her up slightly so you could get the best angle. You teased her entrance pressing in with only one finger. She lowered herself and you could feel her walls sucking you in. She rose once again and let out a breathy plea. “More I need more.”

You added a second finger and guided her down onto them. She threw her head back her mouth open with a moan of pleasure, giving you the most spectacular view of her jawline and collarbones. You can’t help but lean forward and pull her into you so you can run your tongue along her jaw and kiss and suck at her neck. She begins to grind on your fingers riding them with a fierce desire. You match her pace and curl your fingers. You press your palm against her clit making sure it gives her just the right amount of friction. Her moans are heavenly, raspy, and airy. She locks her arms around you and curls into you as close as she can. Her face buried in your neck hot air playing along your skin.

You could spend eternity doing this having her closer than close. You kissed every inch of skin you could find as her body began to tremble. “You are so beautiful, Charlie. Let it all go for me.”

Her hips moved more freely chasing the high. You moved skillfully inside her pressing her favorite spots over and over in a rhythm that was making her fall apart on top of you. She threw her head back again moaning your name as she held your shoulders. Her thighs squeeze you tight and trembling. Her movements became sporadic but you continued your rhythm inside her helping her fully ride out the orgasm. A light sheen of sweat had some of her hair sticking to her face. She was glowing breathtakingly.

You slowly slipped out of her, as her walls stopped pulsing around your fingers. She whined at the loss and fell forward into you resting her head on your shoulder. You wrapped your arms around her and breathed her in. She smelled like home, like a breath of fresh air. She slowly lifted her head. Her green eyes were intense as she found your gaze. “I love you, y/n.”

“I love you too, Charlie.”

“I’m sorry I-”

You interrupted her “No. Please don’t apologize you have nothing to be sorry about. Look I know you I know what you have been through. I know it’s all complicated and that you blame yourself for things that are not your fault. Gadi is a grown man a little older than you in fact. You are not responsible for him. You left because it was the right thing for you and he obviously is still set in his ways. He lives in too many fictional stories that he has lost himself along the way. That is not on you. I understand you still care for him and you always will that is just who you are.”

She looked down as you spoke. Her heart was being torn she didn’t feel like she deserved you. You lightly lifted her chin “Listen to me I love who you are Charlie. All of you.”

A single tear tracked down her face her bottom lip trembled. You leaned in and kissed her cheeks “I am not going anywhere, we are in this together right?”

She nodded “together.”

You softly held her face and kissed her forehead cheeks and chin before capturing her lips softly.

A/N: I hope you enjoyed I love Florence beyond words and hope to write more for her in the future, it’s a bit hard for me since her characters are a wild and all-over-the-place mix but maybe a don’t worry darling fix or a Kate Bishop and Yelena fic. I don’t know I am still writing a series for Leigh Shaw that is basically the next Season of the show if I was in charge of it lol. I also have a sequel to my Zibby story. I’m also still working on one for Lizzies new show Love and Death. Plus I still really want to write a fic for Wanda and Natasha where it is basically We Bought a Zoo but GAY! Anyway, Thank you for reading! :)

#Florence Pugh #Charlie Ross #Little Drummer Girl #Female Reader X Charlie Ross #wlw #Smut #18+#Hurt/Comfort #I'm On Fire #Gus Dapperton #Flo #My gay heart #my fic

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starfishbloom · 11 months

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"Do you wish to fight the Zionists, or the entire world?" was the question the Palestinian terrorist recruiter poses to Charlie (Florence Pugh) in The Little Drummer Girl, John le Carré novel adapted to a TV series by Park Chan-wook. She knows what the recruiter wants to hear, but her simmering resentment against the world is barely masked beneath the surface. This inchoate rage against the world is not unique to this character, and I found this was a particularly accurate and disturbing representation of the tourist radicals of the early 80s provincial European youth.

These children left their villages and trotted off to the big smoke for university, where the '68 fantasies still burnt strong. They read some French theorists, a few political pamphlets, and somehow got it into their heads that "the people" needed to be "awakened". This meme lodged itself into their heads obstinately, and they reacted resentfully when their parents - probably still heavily shaped by the experiences of WW2 - responded with derision to the new ideas their kids brought home for the holidays. Depressed with the drudgery of provincial life, embarrassed by their naivety and their unremarkable, almost cookie-cutter upbringing, these kids vowed to disown their past and make themselves interesting.

But innocence can't be willed away by fiat, and there was no shortage of extremists and cult leaders ready and eager to funnel these restless little babies into their malevolent arms. These kids' anger at provincial Europe, for well, being provincial Europe, didn't need a specific ideology, any contingent extremist signifier with some message of disrupting the sleepy status quo would do, it really just depended on which predatory guru they encountered first.

For brainwashing, team Palestine resorts to traditional methods that are ever popular in successful cults, such as extreme isolation, repetition, strictly enforced idiotic rules, deliberate chaos, and the cult favourite: the good cop bad cop routine. Create attachment and a sense of belonging with a pleasant maternal figure, rip it away violently by means of an authoritarian patriarch, and then back to mama for soothing, rinse & repeat..

Conversely team Israel, ever the consummate rationalists, appear to have scientifically distilled a repeatable mind control process, leading to more subdued and subtle methods which they can claim to be mildly more ethical, but when Charlie falls in love with her handler it's difficult not to be reminded of the horrifying final pages of 1984.

The Euro kids resented being tourists and amateurs in these movements, which made them willing participants in a game of escalating mind control exercises masked as hazing rituals to prove their mettle, their dedication to their newly-acquired, yet entirely contingent, cause. This made them perfect extremists of the most dangerous and frivolous kind. Of course, many didn't go to the levels of extremism portrayed in a riveting spy fiction like this one, but the unexamined beliefs, cliches, slogans, and signifiers (such as wearing a keffiyeh) of radicalism of the time were common to an entire demographic, and they were directly influenced by the counterculture and radical cliches of the late '60s.

Without the internet of today and its protective sheen of knowledgeable irony - where posing as a radical means engaging in largely innocuous and highly performative (thankfully!) activities such as re-sharing posts on social media - radical posturing in the 80s in continental Europe was likely to get you into some very strange situations, with brutal and often irreversible outcomes.

#europe #writing #Florence Pugh #little drummer girl

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