Chapter Text
Marcus Iplier, the star of the silver screen.
The two of you met years ago when you were both just starting out on the road to fame. He’d been a friend amidst the chaos of casting calls, paparazzi, and backstage drama. The chemistry between you showed on and off the screen. Rarely did one of you fill a role without the other. ‘Hollywood’s golden couple’ the papers called you. It didn’t matter that you were both happily married, at least that’s how it seemed, to other people. If there was a big-screen movie with a couple as the starring role, you and Marc got the call.
It didn’t take long for your husband to get fed up with all the gossip and the tabloids saying the two of you were having a secret affair. No matter how many times you assured him there was nothing going on behind closed doors, he couldn’t believe you. He had said you looked at Marc in a way you’d never looked at him.
It wasn’t until after your divorce papers had been signed did you start to hear the rumors about an affair between Marc’s brother William and his wife Celine. You’d thought it was just gossip, but Marc’s reaction when you’d asked about it told you all you needed to know.
After that, his life began to spiral. Between trying to save his marriage and keep his career alive, Marc got lost. You could see it in his eyes, in the way his passion for acting slowly disappeared. It was no surprise to anyone when the news of his divorce started to spread. Not long after, Marc fired his manager and disappeared from the public eye for months. You tried to reach out, you left messages with his butler, but it was no use. Marcus Iplier seemed to just vanish.
And then one day he reappeared.
You’d heard the news that Marc had hosted a party with a handful of old friends, including his brother, and they had all hashed things out, agreeing to turn over a new leaf. It wasn’t long after that he reappeared in the limelight and started taking roles again. The first time you saw him, you hugged him tight and told him you were happy he was okay. He had smiled at you then, eyes still tired but there was a light there you hadn’t seen in a long time.
Now several months later, you’re sitting in the lounge of Marc’s new house, going over lines with the man of the hour. Filming starts in a week for the new movie, some romantic drama you hadn’t had any interest in until Marc had called you to let you know he’d be playing the leading man.
“Come on, I know the script is cheesy, but it won’t be any fun without you. Besides, it’s the first romance I’m doing since…everything and I’d feel a lot better if I was doing it with you.”
And how were you supposed to say no to that?
So here you are, sitting on the couch, one hand on Marc’s face and the other holding your script. He’s looking at you with those dark eyes and a sweet smile that sends your heart racing.
“My love, we were meant to be together,” Marc speaks softly, barely above a whisper, stroking his fingers over your cheek. “You don’t have to fight it anymore.”
“I…don’t know if I’m ready.”
“Is anyone ever truly ready?”
He closes his eyes, leaning in to press a tender kiss to-
“Stop!” You shriek and jump from the sofa, covering your mouth with a hand to fight back a laugh. “God, this script is terrible.”
Marc chuckles, running a hand through his hair. “It really is. I’m not sure why people watch this sort of thing. It’s so…dramatic.”
“Oh please, you love this kind of stuff. You’re the drama king!”
Pink colors his cheeks and he laughs. Marc stands and crosses the room to the bar in the corner, pouring himself a drink of something light and bubbly. You try not to let the concern show on your face but he’s always been able to see right through your facade.
“Oh relax.” He smiles lightly. “I said no more drinking and I meant it. It’s sparkling apple juice; I think I might like it more than champagne.”
“Always one for the finer things in life.”
“And don’t you forget it.”
Marc sits back down, gesturing you over. You take your place beside him, opening your script once again and flipping through the pages.
“Why did I agree to do this again?”
“Because this film is going to be the hit of the summer and it’s going to bring in a lot at the box office.”
You scrunch your nose. “I could care less about box office numbers.”
“Fine, fine. You agreed because you’re a good friend and I wouldn’t be able to do it without you.”
“Yes, and you’re going to take me to a very nice dinner once we’ve finished filming. Don’t forget about that part.”
“I would never forget something so important.”
“Yeah? What restaurant did I want to go to?”
“The…restaurant…with the food.”
“Your memory is impeccable, my dear. I’ve no idea how you remember all these lines.”
“It’s not about memorizing lines. If a script is done right, like this one clearly isn’t, you don’t need to memorize anything, you just fall into it, you feel it.”
You roll your eyes, shoving him playfully. “You’re such an old romantic.”
Marc purses his lips, eyes dropping to the floor. You sigh, reaching out to take one of his hands in yours.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to-”
“No, no, it’s alright, really.” He squeezes your hand. “It’s so funny. Back then, I thought I would feel the way I did forever. I couldn’t imagine life without her, without the ache. It felt like I was suffocating. Now…it hurts but it feels okay. It feels like I’m healing. I still find it hard not to be angry about what she did and I have a right to that anger, but I know she wasn’t happy with me and I don’t fault her for that.”
You nod. “Time and patience really do wonders for one’s self.”
“How’re you? I was in the thick of it when I heard about your divorce, I’ve never really gotten to ask how you feel about the whole thing.”
“I was sad at first. Not because of the divorce, but because he was so unhappy. There was nothing we could’ve done to work it out.”
“What happened?”
“He thought I was putting my career before him, and maybe I was, I don’t know. I don’t think we ever truly loved each other. He loved the person he thought I was and I loved having the company.”
Marc nods. “Well, you’re a wonderful person and a joy to be around. You’ll find someone that loves you for who you are.”
“Well if you keep dragging me into sappy romance movies, I’ll never have time for real love, will I?”
He grins. “Maybe that was the plan all along. If you fall in love and run off, who will star in all these sappy films with me?”
“It’s a heavy burden, but someone must carry it and I guess it has to be me.” You pick up your script. “Now where were we?”
“I believe I was convincing you to finally give in to your undying love for me while we kiss under the moonlight in Paris or somewhere equally as stereotypical.”
“Yeah, yeah, I get it. Let’s just get back to where we were.”
You take a deep breath and pull yourself back into character, cupping the side of his face once again. Mark looks down at you with the same moony expression as before but this time something is different, although you can’t quite pinpoint what. Have his eyes always been so dark and endless?
“My love, we were meant to be together.” He strokes the side of your face, his fingertips barely ghosting over your skin but it’s enough to send goosebumps flaring up all over you. “You don’t have to fight it anymore.”
“I…” You swallow dryly. He’s so close. You can feel his breath fanning out between the two of you. It would take barely anything to lean forward and close the distance. “I…don’t know if I’m ready.”
“I don’t think anyone is ever truly ready. Sometimes it just hits you out of nowhere and …sometimes it creeps up on you before you even realize it.”
“Mark, that…that’s not the line.”
“I know.”
You stare at each other, hesitant to look away in fear of breaking whatever spell has fallen over you. Marc leans in slowly until there’s only a hair’s breadth between you, the tips of your noses touching. This close, you can see flecks of gold in his dark, honey eyes. Your heart is pulsing frantically in your ears and you wonder if he can hear it.
God, he’s beautiful. This wonderful, dramatic, kind man who’s pulled himself back from the brink of despair and is doing everything in his power to be better.
You think you might love him.
With that thought comes a rush of emotions and suddenly everything makes sense. You’re not sure why you didn’t see it sooner.
“Marc,” You whisper, and you can feel his lips just barely brushing yours.
“Tell me to stop. Tell me to stop and we can pretend this never happened.”
You loop your arms around his neck. “Don’t you dare.”
Marc closes the distance between the two of you, pressing his lips against yours. He tastes like apple juice and you can’t help but laugh against him. You’ve kissed in a film before many times, but it was never like this. His hands slide from your shoulders and down your sides, stopping to rest at your waist, pulling you flush against him. He speaks your name like a prayer against your lips, pulling away to rest his forehead against yours.
“Is this okay?”
You nod, running your fingers through the short hair at the nape of his neck. “Very okay.”
“I can’t tell you how many times I’ve thought about this, about having you in my arms like this.”
“Really?”
“Really.”
“Marc.”
“Hm?”
“Kiss me again.”
Unlike the first kiss, which had been chaste and soft, this kiss was hungry. Your lips press together almost painful as his tongue traces over your bottom lip, asking for entry. When you oblige, his tongue slips into your mouth and twines with yours. You groan against his mouth, one of your hands getting a handful of his hair and the other white-knuckling the front of his shirt.
His hands pull you until you’re seated in his lap, knees bracketing his thighs. Through the layers of clothes, you can feel him half-hard beneath you and it starts a fire in the pit of your stomach.
“Marc,” you groan.
He pulls away from your lips, trailing open-mouthed kisses down the side of your neck, the tip of his tongue slipping out to tease over your skin. “What is it, darling? What do you need?”
“You. I need you.”
Marc straightens, looking down into your eyes. “Are you sure?”
You nod. “I want you. I think I’ve wanted you for a long time.”
“And now who’s the old romantic? I thought you didn’t like sappy romance.”
You laugh in disbelief and start climbing out of his lap. “Nevermind, I take it all back. You’re insufferable.”
“Oh come now, don’t be like that!”
“No, I’m going home. You can find someone else to star in this ridiculous movie with because I-”
He silences you with a quick press of his lips against yours. Marc pulls you back into his lap, running a hand through your hair.
“Better? I promise not to make fun of you again.”
You roll your eyes but there’s a goofy grin on your face. “Fine, fine.”
“I hope I haven’t spoiled the mood.”
With a smirk, you roll your hips down against his and he groans. “I don’t think you’ve spoiled it at all. But we are both very overdressed.”
You start undoing the buttons on his shirt and Marc returns to kissing down your neck and over your shoulder, being no help at all. A particularly harsh nip on your collarbones forces a moan from your lips and your fingers fumble over the task at hand. Finally, you get fed up with the whole thing and rip his shirt open, buttons flying every which way.
“Darling, was that really necessary?”
“Yes, absolutely.”
Marc helps you divest him of his shirt and then his hands settle on your thighs. He slides them up over your hips and to your waist, pulling your dress up and off as he goes, eventually leaving you in just your undergarments and a pair of silk stockings.
“God,” he throws his head back with a groan, “you look good enough to eat.”
You bite your lip, running your hands over his chest. “Hm, maybe next time. I’m far too impatient to wait that long.”
“Oh really?”
“Yes, really.”
You reach behind yourself and undo the clasps on your bra, letting it slip off your arms and fall to the ground. Marc reaches out slowly, hands cupping your breasts.
“Absolutely gorgeous.”
He leans forward and kisses a line down from your collarbone to your nipple, swirling his tongue around it slowly. He twists the other between his fingers gently, earning him a high-pitched moan.
“Oh darling, your little whimpers and moans sound downright sinful. I can’t wait to hear you sing for me.”
“God, Marc.” You dig your fingers into his shoulders, arching your back to press your breasts further into his touch.
“I love the way you say my name, sweetling.”
Marc pulls away, patting your thigh lightly and hooking a finger into the waistband of your underwear. “Go on, take these off for me.”
You smile, a dark look in your eyes and you stand, turning your back towards him. Bending over at the waist, you slip your panties over the curve of your ass and down your legs, stepping out of them.
“That’s not fair,” he groans, cupping himself through his pants.
“All’s fair in love and war, darling,” you wink at him over your shoulder before climbing back into his lap.
Reaching between you, you undo his belt and open his pants just enough to reach in and pull his cock out. He’s about average length but much thicker than anyone else you’ve seen before. You wrap your fingers around him, admiring the weight of him in your hands before you start to stroke up and down the shaft slowly. A bead of precum has started to drip from the tip and you smear it over the head of his cock with your thumb.
“Fuck!” Marc curls his hand into a fist and shoves a knuckle between his teeth, trying to keep quiet.
“None of that. I want you to sing for me,” You pull his hand down, mirroring his words from earlier.
He throws his head back against the couch, digging his fingers into the meat of your thighs. You take one of his hands and guide it down between your legs. Marc groans at how warm and wet you feel as his fingers slip between your folds until they stop at your clit, rubbing it in slow circles.
“Oh darling, you’re so ready for me already, aren’t you?”
“Fuck Marc, yes.”
Your hand speeds up on his cock and Marc slips two fingers inside you, curling them just so to send sparks shooting up your spine. There’s a knot forming in the pit of your stomach and you can feel it getting tighter and tighter. Your concentration falters as he starts working you open, scissoring his fingers while his thumb rubs over your clit.
“You’re so close, aren’t you?” Marc whispers, tracing his tongue over the shell of your ear. “Just give in, my sweet, cum for me.”
The knot pulls taut and finally, it snaps, sending a wave of white-hot heat rolling through you. You clamp down on his fingers, forcing a moan from both of you. Marc watches you fall apart with dark, hungry eyes.
As you come down, you take deep, steadying breaths, pressing your forehead to his shoulder. Marc strokes your back gently, pressing kisses to the crown of your head.
“That was beautiful, darling. How’re you feeling?”
“Great.”
“Think you can handle more?”
You nod enthusiastically and he laughs.
Marc takes a gentle hold of your hips, pulling you closer until you’re hovering over his cock. He strokes himself slowly, guiding the head to your entrance before pulling you down. You sink onto his cock slowly, whimpering as the tip seems to catch on every sensitive spot inside you.
Once you’re fully seated on him, hips flush against his, Marc strokes the side of your face tenderly.
“You feel so good, darling. Does it hurt at all?”
You shake your head, rolling your hips down, the base of his cock creating delicious friction against your clit.
“Oh,” Marc groans, “keep going.”
Slowly, you raise up onto your knees until just the head of his cock is still inside you and you drop back down, forcing a moan from both of you. You set a steady pace, rising up and sinking back down onto him, squeezing around his cock. One of Marc’s hands tangles into your hair while the other slips between your legs, rubbing over your clit. The room is filled with your moans and the sound of skin hitting skin.
“That’s it, baby. Make yourself feel good. Fuck yourself on my cock.”
You whine, burying your face in the crook of his neck.
“Oh, do you like it when I whisper obscene things into your ear, darling?” He doesn’t wait for an answer, pulling your head up so he can whisper in your ear. “You feel so good around me. I’ve thought about this so many times, how I would fuck you, how I would make you moan my name.”
“M-Marc.”
“Yes, just like that. You’ll cum again for me, won’t you? I want to feel the way you tighten and clench around my cock.”
A moan, high and desperate, leaves your lips as you feel his finger on your clit speed up, dragging you closer and closer to your second orgasm. Marc begins to thrust up into you, meeting every downward thrust of your hips with an upward thrust of his own. The friction has fireworks exploding behind your eyes and you’re right on the edge, so close.
“That’s it. I can feel how close you are. Cum for me, darling.”
That’s all it takes. The desperation in his voice sends you free-falling into your second orgasm, the pleasure almost drowning you as you tighten around him. Marc throws his head back with a groan, grabbing your hips and moving you up and down on his cock until he still, cumming inside you with a shout of your name.
The two of you stay frozen in place, fighting to catch your breath. Marc cradles your head against his chest and you can hear his heartbeat thumping beneath your ear.
“That was…” He sighs, pushing hair out of his face, “perfect.”
“I agree.” You smile up at him.
“I hope this wasn’t…a one-time thing?”
You take his face in your hands, tracing your thumbs back and forth over his cheeks, and kiss him softly, passionately. When you pull away, Marc is looking at you with a dreamy look in his eyes. “Does that answer your question?”
He laughs. “Yes, I suppose it does.”
“So,” you kiss his cheek, “should we get back to practicing our lines?”