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English
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Published:
2026-06-17
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1,792
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1/1
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Mocking Secrets

Summary:

Nobody ever told Preston Armstrong that Marcus Osborn actually speaks in bed. And not any type of speaking, but mocking fake sympathy.

Its messing with his head and he cant focus on the game.

Notes:

Hey guys! I know i haven't uploaded in a while.. sorryyy!! Hope you enjoy

(See the end of the work for more notes.)

Work Text:

Nobody ever told me that Marcus was an absolute prick in bed. During the time leading up to us sleeping together, I thought he was the quiet and fast type. Maybe the eye contact type as well. I never thought he would actually speak. It's unnerving.

 

I thought he was annoying on the ice, but this is a completely different level.

 

I'm used to him mocking me both on and off the ice. But during sex? He takes it to a completely different level.

 

He's got mocking sympathy. The very first time, when I told him he wouldn't be able to fit, the prick didn't reassure me, didn't even ram inside like I thought he would. He just slowly came to a stop and pouted, though there was a dark sadistic gleam in his eyes, and said, “aw, poor baby. Want me to go a little slower so your body can handle it?”

 

Like what the fuck. Who even says that?

 

He didn't even go slowly afterwards, just went faster. The lying pitch.

 

Ever since that day I discovered something about myself. I, preston armstrong, was suddenly hit and bothered at any form of mocking from Marcus. I can't dissociate his sex mocking from his hockey mocking, and that usually results in me getting a hard on in the middle of a game. Its the audacity for me because what the fuck gives him the right to take control of my mind?

 

“Eyes on the puck, pres.” Judes voice huffs out from beside me. We're taking a break between the game, the wolves skating to their own side and us to ours. I take a sip from my water bottle as Jude takes a swing from his. “I dont know why you're out of it today, but snap back in.” His voice is calm as his eyes sweep over me, assessing. I hate when he looks at me like that. Like I'll break any second now. I've got my demons under control now— or at least as much as I'm able to.

 

“Yeah, yeah. It's nothing. I'm just trying to figure out a way to get those bitches to crack.”

 

Kane moves beside us, wiping his face with a towel and says, “I thought I told you to keep your hands off of Osborn. He doesn't twist to your provocations like others.”

 

“Hmmm. How about no? You, maybe, stay away. I've got this under control. In no time, he'll be serving his life sentence in the box!”

 

Both Kane and Jude sigh at the same time, the big man even elbows my side and I grunt.

 

My eyes catch Marcus’ from the side. Kane's words play again in my head, but only the double meaning behind them. “Keep your hands off of Osborn". But what if I can't stay away? What if it's as if every force in the universe is just pulling us closer and closer, and I can't escape it?

 

I don't let the thoughts fester in my head for too long, because soon, the scoreboard dings and we step out onto the ice again. I resume my position on the wing and map the change of players on the wolves team. It's only one of their defenders that's changed.

 

Good.

 

Then, the wall that is Marcus Osborn comes in front of me, blocking my view. Seriously, what's with this guy and towering over others??

 

“Osborn.”

 

“My prince.”

 

I roll my eyes. No matter how much I talk to him, he always seems to ignore my words. I feel like he's purposefully trying to get people to understand that we're together so that they'd stay away. From what I don't know.

 

“Whats wrong baby? Get all nervous when I call you that?” He then playfully tucks a strand of my hair in my helmet.

 

The fucking audacity.

 

I slap his hands away, then try to skate away as Kane is now moving across the ice in that precision of his. There's no way I'm going to let him get into my head. Not this game, at least. Because, the truth is, I do get all nervous. Since the moment he came to stand in front of me, my stomach has been doing somersaults. This totally isn't normal and I'll probably have to go back to the Callahans to get it checked out.

 

I'm Preston Armstrong. I don't get nervous. And certainly not because of some—

 

A large body slams into me from the back, and I'm suddenly colliding with the force of Marcus Osborn. He doesn't let me fall though, since his hands find my waist.

 

So there we are, on the ice, with my body bent down to where I was about to collapse onto my face, and with Marcus holding me by the waist. In front of everyone.

 

I quickly kick him away, and before I can turn around and inflict some real damage, Jude zooms across the arena and raises his fists. Marcus sees it coming and puts his hands up.

 

Then, they start fighting again. Like seriously, give it up. I sigh, then remember that's what dear old daddy does, so I stop and grimace. Instead, I start cheering them on. The most obvious answer would be to cheer for Jude, buuuut it's a bit complicated now. So, I don't make it clear who I'm cheering for and just let the “Go! Go!” Flow out of my mouth.

 

They're eventually pulled away from each other, and since Jude threw the first punch, he's spending two minutes in the penalty box. A shame. This means I'll just have to step up my game.

 

 

We managed to win, only by a few points. And only because I found a way to get to their wings’ head. Turns out, his mom is none other than that lady I saw at the mall and ended up taking home. It didn't take much probing for him to slam me against the barriers. How fun!

 

The vipers all dispersed and went home, I even offered Jude a celebratory fuck, as we usually do. The truth is, im not interested in fucking any woman right now. And I'm sure Jude only has one woman on his mind, so I knew he'd decline. That gives me the freedom to go out and meet up with Osborn.

 

I get into my car and speed down the road. Once I get to Stantonville, I slow down enough to take in the space. It's a filthy peasant slump. Something tightens in my chest at the thought of Marcus spending most of his childhood and adult years in this shithole with his mother. I quickly push the feeling aside and pull into our safe house's parking lot. It's away from both the slums and the main city, perfect for hiding.

 

Marcus's motorcycle is parked outside already, so I just knock on the front door lightly, knowing he's already inside and being too lazy to take the second key from its hiding place. Within two knocks and a half, Marcus opens the door. Seemingly fresh out of a shower, a towel hangs low on his hips and water moves down his frame. My eyes zero in on a specific water droplet moving down his chest and waist and then lower.

 

“Are you going to stare at me forever?" He asks, clearly not looking for an answer. His hands reach out and grab my wrist, pulling me inside. The door immediately locks after us, and he all but carries me to the bedroom.

 

I fall onto the queen sized bed with a slight bounce, lips already tugging into a smirk. “Can't get enough of me, can you? How did it feel to lose today? Gonna go home and cry—”

 

“How about you cry while taking my cock like you did last time?”

 

I fall silent, his lips move against my ear and then lower. “It was so thrilling. I dont think ive ever been harder, my prince.”

 

At his words, I feel my body grow hot. If Marcus notices the blush, he doesn't comment on it, too busy taking off both our clothes.

 

He's inside me within seconds, since I'm already prepped from when we did this two days ago. Even though it's been two days, I felt completely wrong without him last night, and was minutes away from escaping judges house to come here. But then Jude would totally get all up in my business, and I can't have him worrying anymore, especially when he's got his own issues to worry about.

 

I reach up to lightly touch his perfectly sculpted jaw, tilting his head towards me, forcing our lips to meet.

 

A mix of pleasure and pain floods through me as I feel him moving from below and his lips bite into my lower one. I can barely breathe when hes near and then he does things like this.

 

His tongue moves out of my mouth, suddenly replaced by his fingers pressing down inside it. His other hand grabs my hips, steadying me as he moves in and out and then in again. I feel the wetness clouding my vision within minutes. It feels so hot, I dont think ive experienced such pleasure. It's like my body is completely on fire.

 

Sure the sex with the others was okay, but it's completely mediocre compared to Marcus. He's really something else. Nobody told me he was like this–

 

“You're doing so good, my prince.”

 

The words are full of praise, and if i hadn't been partly aware of myself and my surroundings, I wouldn't have noticed the condescending tone in the way he says those words. He removes his hands from my mouth and wipes them on my hip.

 

I can't help but whine, and that only fuels whatever he's running on, because he just continues, saying, "You're so pathetic for me, you know that? Such a pretty prince.”

 

My hands wrap around his shoulders, and I can't contain myself anymore. His words and his actions are too much for my body to handle all together. I press my lips underneath his right ear, then bite as I come.

 

His hands grip my hips tightly, hips stuttering slightly, and then he finally comes inside me.

 

I let out a sigh of relief, keeping him close to me. I release his skin from under my teeth, but stay wrapped around him. He doesn't make an effort to move either, and I know not to ruin the moment.

 

This day has been a clusterfuck of epic proportions, so the moment I relax against him and close my eyes, I already know I'm going to fall asleep.

 

The worst part? I don't even mind it.

 

I feel completely safe in his arms.

Notes:

I've already started writing a third fic. Ifyky from Tumblr with the mirror?? Yeah thats on its way. Hopefully before Sunday?

Sorry if this sucked i just had an idea and ran with it..