#carter hart fanfic

[swissboyhisch]

Something In The Orange

A/N: I probably missed some editing stuff. Grammar isn't my strong suit.

Pairing: Carter Hart x Reader

Summary: Based on "Something in the Orange" by Zach Bryan

Word Count: 1367

Warnings: Sad! I cried while writing this. Death.

THE MASTERLIST JOIN THE TAGLIST HOCKEY DISCORD

It'll be fine by dusk light I'm telling you, babyThese things eat at your bones and drive your young mind crazyBut when you place your head between my collar and jawI don't know much but there's no weight at all

Carter had you wrapped in his arms as the pair of you sways to the non existent music. It was something that had become so normal in the last two years of your relationship. Late night dances in the living room after the game to decompress. Stress from both the game and your work flying away. Leaving you in bliss.

No words shared between. Swaying together, your head tucked into the crook of his neck. Carter’s arms tighten around your body in response. Nothing felt more like home than being in your boyfriend’s arms. Back and forth. Gentle forehead kisses. Just the two of them together.

Right here, right now. Neither of you had any worries. You two vs world. It’s how the pair of you felt whenever you danced in each other’s arms. Carter was the love of your life and he yours. Nothing could pull you two away from each other. 

And I'm damned if I do and I'm damned if I don't'Cause if I say I miss you I know that you won'tBut I miss you in the mornings when I see the sunSomething in the orange tells me we're not done

You had shifted to sit in the window seat of your room. Joining Carter in looking out the window. Despite all the wires connecting to your body, you were content with being in his arms. It had been awhile since you had a moment to yourselves. 

It was early in the morning. So early in fact that the sun was yet to rise above the skyline. One by one the stars started to disappear as the sky lightened to a brilliant golden orange. You relaxed a little more when feeling the sun’s rays bathing the two of you in the window. 

“It’s beautiful.”

Carter glanced down at you, noting the weary look on your face. He knew it wasn’t long now. He took a deep breath and pressed a kiss to the back of your head. Pulling you in as close as possible. “Not as beautiful as you, darling.”

“I love you,” You whisper.

“I love you too. So much.”

“It reminds me of your jersey,” You noted as the sky was all orange.

He just chuckled at your words. Making sure to listen to your voice. “You hate our jersey.”

“I may hate the jersey but I like the colour.”

To you I'm just a man, to me you're all I amWhere the hell am I supposed to go?I poisoned myself againSomething in the orange tells me you're never coming home

Carter sat on the porch of your shared house. Watching as the skies turn from blue to orange once more. Despite the house being so full of the people that loved him, he never had felt so alone. Some of his teammates and family were inside the house he shares with you. Well… did share with you. 

Just this morning, you were in his arms watching the very same sun rise above Philadelphia. Still alive and breathing. Reminding him of how much you love him and how proud of him you were. 

Carter just wanted the pain to end as he watched the orange turn to navy blue. The stars alight once more across the sky. No more sunrises or sunsets he’d experience with you by his side. He wouldn’t be coming home to you wearing his jersey and waiting for the late night dance you both shared. No more you.

The sun disappearing once more below the horizon signaled the end of the last day he’d ever have with you by his side.

I need to hear you say you've been waitin' all nightThere's orange dancing in your eyes from bulb lightYour voice only trembles when you try to speakTake me back to us dancing, this wood used to creak

You were waiting for Carter to come home after his win at home, dressed in his jersey and a pair of leggings. Nothing special but you knew it was his favourite look. Seeing his last name on your back was one thing he treasured. Neither of you admitted it but you knew that you’d never have the same last name. 

“I’m home,” You heard Carter call from the entrance hall. He was greeted with the sight of you still sitting on the couch, his jersey looking a little baggier than normal on your body. The trash can beside where you sat told him it had been a rough afternoon. He crouched down and pulled you in gently for a kiss. “Hello sweetheart.”

Without missing a beat, Carter pulled you up from the couch and wrapped your arms around his shoulders and his around your waist. No music like normal, you two swayed alone in the lounge room. Your head rested on his chest. Thump. Thump. Thump. The steady heartbeat of your boyfriend always calmed down your racing thoughts.

“I love you.”

His words made you tear up. Trying so hard to keep the tears at bay you let out some shaky words. “Please don’t.”

“I will,” Carter assured, “I will until my last breath.”

“As will I.”

To you I'm just a man, to me you're all I amWhere the hell am I supposed to go?I poisoned myself againSomething in the orange tells me you're never coming home

Since the start of the new season, Carter tries not to miss a sunset, especially before a game. If he can help it he will sit and watch as the sky turns orange once more. It took him back to those last moments as you watched the sky turn orange together in each other’s arms. It felt like you were with him once more. 

Before such a game like tonight, he wished that you were there. In the stands screaming his name as you wore his jersey that bore both his and your last name. It was only right. If only it had happened that way. 

To you I'm just a man, to me you're all I amWhere the hell am I supposed to go?I poisoned myself againSomething in the orange tells me you're never coming home

Whenever Carter pictured lifting the stanley cup, he never thought about you not being by his side. You were always there. Until you weren’t. Now everything felt numb despite having a shutout in game 7 of the stanley cup final.

Carter doesn’t remember much. More like it was all a blur. From holding the cup to the afterparty with everyone at Travis’ place. Most had passed out around the place by now but Carter found a spot on the deck. He settled in one of the many seats. Eyes to the sky. Dark sky turned orange once more. Orange like his jersey that he wore last night. The sight made him feel something that he hadn’t for a long time. Peace. It washed over his body like the sunlight. 

The young goalie glanced down at his hand, the gold ring glistening in the morning light. Memories of the small ceremony that took place in the bland hospital room flitted through his head. You looked beautiful in the simple white dress despite your frail body. Even though Carter didn’t care, you insisted on wearing a white dress. Both yours and his parents were present. A small intimate ceremony to share your love. Mrs. Hart, something you absolutely adored hearing from him.

The sun faded from orange to light blue. As he shared one last smile with himself before kissing his wedding band and going to find somewhere to crash before round 2 of celebrations. 

“I’ll love you until my last breath.”

If you leave today, I'll just stare at the way The orange touches all things around The grass, trees and dew, how I just hate you Please turn those headlights around Please turn those headlights around

TAG LIST

@findapenny @mp0625 @hischierhaze @11zegras @lvrzegras @francesfarhadi @cixrosie @daisysthings

[hockeyboysimagines]

Happy New Year!

You all have been so amazing. You were so patient with my long hiatus, supportive of my return, and did so much to grow this blog this year. Pat yourselves on the back. Without you, I wouldn’t be writing like I am today, so for that thank you🤍 from the bottom of my heart. I appreciate it more than you’ll ever know.

All that being said, what are some things you wanna see in 2024? Send me in some asks that include-

New additions to my Who I write for.( Please check list, and completed projects before requesting to make sure I haven’t already done it)

New projects to add to existing storylines.

New prompts for blurbs.

A 1K followers celebration? I’m at 990.

Anything else!

Please let me know! So excited for what this year holds with all of you🤍

Just a reminder, blurbs are open for today only to celebrate the new year, so make sure you send some in. I’ve already received a few. They’ll be completed throughout the week. Can’t wait to see what you all send in!

[fiapartridge]

not yall STILL making carter hart fanfics n tiktoks….like put that shit to rest bru

[brainddeadd]

When I first got into ice hockey (2019ish), it was all Nolan Patrick, Carter Hart, Auston Matthews, and Mat Barzal for the young stars and the fanfics, and now it's all Hughes brothers.

Fascinating how it changes so quickly.

[loathsome-forgotten-tbd]

tagging system

note: this will be updated as we think of other things to add, posts before this one in chronological order will not be tagged according to this system

#diagnosis; [name] - used both for when one of us is reblogging/posting something and for when someone else is reblogging something for another alter. use of this tag does not indicate switching or even co-fronting, we just know each other’s aesthetics. we will use ‘#diagnosis; adonis’ when we are blurry, dissociated and/or co-con... and remember to actually tag the post.

#pack, #prey, #hunting, #hunting grounds, #moon, #the hunger - weird religious stuff, dw about it.

#brat prince, #dreams of home, #pestboy, #hunterboy #thekis, #qnpboy - various tags for alters' partners/family/etc in source

#for [name] - we use this rather than @’ing people

#music is good for the soul - for when we post music or playlists

#queue are everything, #ask game and #ask game responses, #thesickenedspeak for original posts and #thesickenedanswer for ask responses.

#our [art/photo/project/etc] - any posts with this tag and the content therein was drawn/made/taken by us

#made for us - post’s content was made for us, either by a friend or as a commission (or both!)

#tagged for us - for any post that was sent to us, tagged for us or @’d at us

#reference - for posts with stuff we wanna find again

#intrusions - for any posts that largely consist of/make reference to our intrusive thoughts

content tags can be found below the cut;

writing tags - due to the nature of how tags work these days and wanting our writing to actually be seen, content warnings for our stories will be inside of the post itself and only populated tags (ones that show up in search) will be added for visibility

#lohengrin writes, #original writing, #fanfic, #nsft writing, #oneshot, #OC lore, #setting lore

oc tags - any of these tags with ‘Vile’ at the end are characters that belong to our body’s partner. and yes, some of these ‘characters’ are self-inserts of alters in the system

#Maynard Roque; OC, #Shavain Novi; OC, #Morgan; OC, #Zathrian; OC, #Bishop; OC, #Cyneric; OC, #Dr. Roman Hart; OC, #Dr. Owen Palmer; OC, #Faust; OC, #Theo; OC, #Carter; OC, #Tyrian Lockwood; OC, #Medea siblings, #Arcadius Medea; OC, #Euclid Medea; OC, #Herodion Medea; OC, #Alice Locke; OC, #Deimos Medea; Vile, #Kaiser Hart; Vile, #Alejandro; Vile #Lacri Lamode; Vile, #Forgive-Me-Not; Vile, #Acheron; Vile, #Gladstone; Vile

series tags

#God of Wounded Things; series, #Theo; series, #His Stories, #His Swansong; series, #His Recovery; series, #His Reunions; Series, #The Slutty Slutty Adventures of Tyrian Lockwood; series, #Loveless Heartless Cold; Series,

content warnings - we cannot reliably understand, remember or put the mental effort into understanding when these things need to be tagged. feel free to give us a (polite) message if we have failed to do so

#flashing cw, #inviting abyss (light unreality/weirdcore/liminal stuff), #unreality #bugs, #unsanitary, #religion, #blasphemy, #body horror, #substance use, #smoking, #eyestrain, #subtle gif warning

adult content - please block the tag #realistic and #irl if realistic depictions of blood/gore are an issue, we will never post anything that includes real severe injury or death of humans, but may post irl animal and medical gore, along with light human injury, erotic content will have the tag #nsft

#blood, #guro, #guro text, #medical, #animal death, #needles, #nudity, #scopophobia, #guns, #weapons, #knives, #organs, #decapitation, #bones, #flesh, #impalement, #trypophobia, #cannibalism, #mouth trauma, #bruises, #cuts, #limb damage, #evisceration, #eye trauma, #guts, #crying, #choking, #chirophobia, #explosives

[trashforhockeyguys]

Don’t Hold Me -20- Carter Hart

A/N: So umm the whole thing takes place in a hospital. Mentions of serious injuries, and all that goes with that. Other than that though, nothing too triggering? I don’t think? As always all previous parts are linked in my master list.

Travis scanned over all of the articles that came out as soon as it became public knowledge who was involved. The media team was doing everything they could to keep it quiet and control the coverage, but news crews were already set up outside of the hospital. They didn’t know who did it. Carter didn’t know the guy, nor could he give an accurate description. It was too dark, it all happened too fast. All anyone knew was that you nearly died. Hell, you still could. 

Travis locked his phone and leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. He’d never seen you look so pale, even all those years ago. You looked twenty times worse now. They were told that you lost a significant amount of blood before anyone could get to you. Travis couldn’t even think about Carter trying to keep you from bleeding out in the street. 

Carter, of course, wouldn’t talk about it. He refused to leave, just like Ethan. But Kora eventually convinced both of them that they needed showers and food. But Carter also had to go to the rink. The media team thought it would be best if they held a press conference. Especially since the media was reporting that Carter had been hurt as well. But physically, he was fine. Mentally though? Travis knew this wasn't something he’d get over easily. None of them would.

Your parents were stuck at home, they couldn’t get on a flight out here, nor could they take the time off from work. They tried everything they could think of, but they just couldn’t. So when Ethan wasn’t here, Travis was in charge of sending them as many updates as he could. Nolan would stop by from time to time to bring Travis something, or just sit with him so he wouldn’t be alone while Kora and Ethan were gone. 

“She looks better today,” Nolan said, sliding into the chair on the other side of your bed. 

“She looks like shit,” Travis mumbled, “They said the biggest concern now is going to be infection.”

Nolan reached over and carefully grabbed one of your hands, “She’s still cold.”

Travis nodded slowly, “They did another blood transfusion like an hour ago. Apparently her body is still trying to regulate.”

Nolan reached for his phone, he scrolled through a couple of notifications, “They’re going to announce that they’ve postponed the game tomorrow. Other teams are reaching out with support. And Carter is about to go live, do you want me to turn it on?”

He shook his head, “No. I don’t want her to hear it.”

Nolan, for the life of him, couldn’t imagine exactly what Travis was feeling. He loved you, sure. But he didn’t love you anywhere near how Travis did. You were Travis’ little sister, the sister he never had. He’d never seen Travis act so protective over anything before he saw him with you. 

He was with Travis when he got the call. Ethan and Kora had just fallen asleep. Carter couldn’t get ahold of anyone else, so he called the first person he knew would be there. Nolan spent the entire drive to the hospital trying to calm down everyone, not just Travis, but Ethan and Kora too. Even Nolan wasn’t sure how he was able to stay so calm. 

“She’ll pull through,” Nolan assured his teammate. 

“I don’t know what I’ll do if she doesn’t.”

Meanwhile, across town, Carter was in a cold sweat. He hated the media to begin with, much less in a situation like this. He had to practically be dragged from the hospital by Kora and Ethan. He’d refused to leave your side. Everything was a blur at this point, but he knew that he didn’t let go of your hand once until you were being wheeled into an operating room. 

He couldn’t remember all of the terms that the doctors rattled off after you came out. Kora was the one who had enough presence of mind to ask them to use simple terms so everyone knew what was happening. But all Carter could hear was that you lost too much blood before you were brought in, that you’d flatlined several times. That it could still be touch and go. 

“Carter? They’re ready for you.”

His hands shook as he followed everyone into the room and towards his seat behind the table. Cameras started flashing automatically. When the Flyers said that a statement was being made, no one thought Carter would be the one to make it. The media was reporting that he’d been hospitalized too. He wished it was him, and not you. 

He blindly answered the questions that were thrown at him. The media team coached him on what needed to be said, less was more. Especially given that they didn’t even have any leads on who did this. 

Everytime he closed his eyes he saw you in his arms, growing paler by the second, as he screamed for someone to help. He wasn’t sure that he would ever get that image out of his head. How could he?

Kora was waiting outside the arena. Her hair was wet like she’d just showered. She was in oversized sweatpants with an old faded sweatshirt to match. She held her arms out, offering Carter a much needed hug. For a second he wondered if he wouldn’t just fall apart right there in the parking lot. 

“C’mon, I’ll take you back to Travis’ place, it’s closer to the hospital,” She told him, “You need to sleep.”

“No, I need to go back to the hospital,” He replied quickly. 

“Carter, you’ve been up for over twenty four hours,” Kora explained, “You won’t do her much good if you’re sleep deprived.”

But when he looked at her, with eyes filled with so much pain, she knew she couldn’t keep him away from you. So, Kora just held Carter as tightly as she could before promising to take him back to the hospital after he at least ate some food. 

The scene at the hospital hadn’t changed though. The rest of the boys were still crowded around you. Nolan came out to meet Kora as Carter rushed in to join Travis and Ethan. But Kora couldn't bring herself to walk in, not yet at least. She didn’t want to see you like that, not up close. 

So instead she handed Nolan a coffee cup and leaned against the wall, “How’s Travis?”

“A fucking wreck,” Nolan breathed out, rubbing his face with his free hand, “Did you get Carter to eat?”

Kora nodded, “Barely.”

Nolan looked behind him, studying his friends gathered in your little room, “The doctor stopped by about half an hour ago, they want to try to back off her sedatives this afternoon. Her vitals have held long enough apparently.”

It seemed that there was a little light to the day. If Kora understood Nolan well enough, you were out of the woods now. Save for the potential recovery complications, but enough that they were willing to try to wake you up.

She took a deep breath, feeling like her chest was going to cave in from the weight that settled on it the moment they got the first call, “You should go home Nol. I can take care of them.”

He forced a small smile, “Yeah but who’s gonna take care of you?”

She shrugged, eyes focused on the three boys huddled around your bed. Kora wondered what would’ve happened had none of you gone out. If you’d all gone right home, rather than staying late at a club. Maybe none of you would be here right now. 

“I’m going to go grab some food across the street,” Nolan said quietly, “Call me if something changes.”

He had to fight himself from looking back at you in the bed. You looked so different from the girl he’d come to love like a sister. Definitely not to the same level as Travis. But he found it to be impossible to be around you for very long without feeling protective over you, just like he was with his own sisters. Nolan never really thought that he’d have to imagine a world where you wouldn’t be around. But now he had, and he didn’t like it. 

You just seemed to make the world better. He wanted that back sooner rather than later.  

It was several hours later when you felt yourself being pulled from the dark. Reality started coming back to you, and that’s when the panic set in. Your heart started to race as you felt the pain, at first what felt like a dull ache felt like a white hot iron being plunged into you. You wanted to scream out, but you couldn’t. You could barely move. 

“Y/N? It’s okay, you’re safe.”

You knew that voice. The same calming voice you’d heard all your life. Ethan shouldn’t be here. You were in a dark part of town, alone on the sidewalk. No...not alone. Carter. Carter was with you. 

“Y/N, I need you to relax, okay? Please,” Ethan seemed to beg.

Your eyes finally opened to stark white lights. You could hear the rapid beeping of a machine next to you, it sounded like a warning. You tried to move, to speak, to do anything, but the pain only worsened. Even breathing hurt. 

“Hey, there you are,” Ethan let out a broken laugh that seemed to almost border a sob. 

You couldn’t think straight, but you knew none of this seemed right. This wasn’t where you were supposed to be. Your head felt like it would split open before you could even get a word out. Your body didn’t feel right. None of it felt right.

“Hurts,” You forced out, the effort of the one word made everything worse. 

“Okay, okay. Hold on, I’ll get a nurse,” Ethan reached over and pushed some sort of button and a few seconds later a nurse came strolling in. 

Everything felt cloudy to you. Like you couldn’t quite wake up all the way. The nurse said a few words to you before moving to your IV port. Pain medication, that’s what she was doing. Maybe without the searing pain you could think. Why did it hurt so much?

“There you go sweetheart,” The nurse said gently, “That should help. You just call us if you need anything else.”

Ethan said a quick thank you, not taking his eyes off of you. You wondered just how bad you must’ve looked. Your whole body felt stiff and heavy. The pain dulled just enough. Almost like the sun breaking through a thick layer of clouds. 

“Carter? Where-”

“He’s fine,” Ethan said quickly, “Kora made him and Travis leave so they could sleep.”

You felt your body relax just a little. He was okay. Zachary didn’t touch him. He was safe. You could take all the pain, as long as you were the only one who had to deal with it. 

“How bad?” You questioned, voice straining. 

You could tell just by the way that Ethan’s face changed that it wasn’t good. Hell, just by the way your body felt it wasn’t good. You could remember little bits and pieces of what happened. But it was like things kept going in and out of focus. 

“Pretty bad. Don’t ever do that to me again,” He begged, “I swear to god. I thought we’d lost you.”

You held his hand, tightening your grip on it. It seemed you hadn’t really come all that far from where you were in high school. There was a time when you were in this exact same situation. You hated that he had to go through this again. Once again, Zachary proved that he would do anything, he simply didn’t care. He never had. 

Some silly part of you still had hope that deep down he cared. Maybe if for just a second. You thought he wouldn’t be capable of something like this. Despite everything, despite all you knew and all he’d put you through, you still had a sliver of hope.

“You look like shit,” You tried to joke. 

“And you look like hell,” He replied flatly, “But you almost died, several times, so I’m allowed to look like shit.”

You nodded, knowing he’d been through enough. Not just in the last few days, but ever since Zachary came into your life. You once hoped that coming to Philly would mean a fresh start for you, but once again he proved that nothing changed. She was still the same little girl, so afraid of her own shadow. 

“I’m going to go call mom and dad,” Ethan said softly, “You just get some rest. I’ll be back in a bit.”

You nodded, trying to relax back into the bed. Every little movement hurt. You knew if you looked under the thin hospital gown that your midsection would be bandaged up. You didn’t want to know the details yet. Part of you still thought you could wake up from this nightmare. Maybe if you didn’t know you could act like it wasn’t that bad. 

But then the thought of what you told Carter before it all happened….You couldn’t go to Canada now. You couldn’t do that to him. Zachary could easily follow you there. It obviously wouldn’t be the first time that he tracked you down hundreds of miles from home. You felt sick. This really wouldn’t end. He would always be there in some way or another. You’d always carry these scars around. 

You would never really be free, and Carter would never really be safe.

[numba99]

Birth Chart Breakdown: Carter Hart

Another player in my birth chart series (finally)! Basically this is me looking at a players personal placements and discussing what their personality could be like. Obviously this up for interpretation and not necessarily how they think/act! I have been told my readings are pretty accurate, so take from that what you will! Okay let’s get into it!

Sun in Leo (sun = general sense of self) OKAY so Leos have a big thing for loyalty. They are very loyal to others and they will expect it back. If you’re not loyal to him, you won’t last long. And this doesn’t apply to romantic relationships, it is all of them. Leos can also struggle with their self image. They often get pinned as being self absorbed or conceited and while yes some underdeveloped Leos can be (and other signs can as well) it’s often a mask. Carter could be the kind of person who puts on a mask, so to speak. Like he, as well as other Leos, could project a level of confidence that they don’t actually feel. They have a certain level of pride (they are represented by the lion!) ad definitely wouldn’t want people to catch them slipping. He probably does care what people thinks of him to some degree and will try to curate a persona for people to see. That aside, Leos are incredibly loving people. Carter will care deeply for the people around him. He wants the best for everyone and wants them to reach their highest potential, just as he wants that for himself. He also has a lighthearted and attractive aura to him. Leos are represented by the sun so their is a brightness to them that is undeniable! He probably brings a lot of warmth to those around him, and it can be easy to be charmed by him. He can be a bit stubborn though. They can tend to have an idealist view of the world and their own inner code when going about their lives. He will stick to his own moral code closely and probably will not get along with people who don’t share their beliefs. And don’t bother trying to change them. It won’t work.

Moon in Taurus (moon = emotions) I share this placement so I can speak from experience. Carter needs stability. Though taurus in not ruled by the moon (it is ruled by venus!) it is very comfortable here. So, people here tend to be pretty emotionally stable/ they are good and regulating and understanding emotions. He most likely has certain things or places that bring him peace. Having stable things (or people honestly) to return to in times of trouble is super important for him. He is also probably pretty levelheaded. Again, he could be a bit stubborn because of this placement. It may be hard for him to understand/connect with people who aren’t on the same wavelength as him emotionally. He is probably pretty resistant to change, I would imagine sudden or drastic changes could be very stressful for him. However, he is super romantic. He will take the slow and steady approach, not really one for jumping into relationships or having little flings. For him, that stable emotional connection is super important for establishing a long-term relationship. There is also a calming aura to this placement. Because their stability, people often feel at ease around taurus moons. I would not be surprised if people went to Carter a lot when they were struggling. His ability to empathize while also remaining stable and strong probably makes him someone that is easy to open up to.

Mercury in Leo (mercury = communicaition) A great problem solver and collaborator. Works well with others, but I think he has that natural born leader personality and is probably often taking charge of things (whether it is other appointing him or it just happening naturally). He is probably pretty enthusiastic and charming in conversations. I think he would make the people he speaks with feel special, like he is genuinely engaged with them and interested in what he has to say. Big jokster as wel!

Venus in Leo (venus = love/realtionships) okay again I share this placement with hims so I can speak a lil from experience! SUPER loyal and expect back. Probably would not be to keen on having like an open relationship with someone. Super hopeless romantic type. In love with the idea of love, if you will. He probably really liked the “process” of falling in love. Romancing him will go along way, and he will definitely give it back. Romantic gestures, big and small, go a long way for him. He will love to show his partner off, and be shown off himself. Probably a little needy if we are being honest. BUT as much love as you give him, he’s going to give it back to you 5 time over. He will shower his lover in affection and things. Prepare to be spoiled. He really likes feeling appreciated and needed and probably has the love language of verbal affirmations. Make him feel important to your life, it will bring him peace and make him feel secure.

Mars in Cancer (mars= action, desire) He can be a bit passive aggressive. Unlike the taurus moon placement, cancer is not happy in mars. Mars is very action oriented and cancer is a much more “slow moving” sign. He is resistant to change and needs to feel secure in his actions. He is not likely to jump into things because he doesn’t like risking his security. Emotions and sex are highly intertwined for him. Again, I don’t think he would be the type to just sleep around or have little flings (not that this is a bad thing at all!). At the very least, sex is not the same for him when it is not with someone he shares a deep emotional bond with. Lowkey turned on by the thought of making a baby though. He can be a lil over sensitive and may tend to lash out when he is frustrated or upset. He can probably be a bit argumentative as well and have mood swings where he is more prone to agitation. However, when he feels safe and supported he will be at peace. He will be protective ad reliable in relationships.

Overall thoughts: Alexa, play Loyalty by Kendrick Lamar. Seriously though, Carter is EXTREMELY loyal based on what this chart is telling me. Again, this isn’t just about romantic relationships, it would extend to his friends too. Like,he would be the type to fight for his friend even when he knows they’re wrong because that’s his friend! He’s ride or die for them no matter what. But you have to have that same energy for him. If not, he’ll probably distance himself over time. I also think love is really important to him, specifically finding the right partner. He wants someone for the long haul, someone he can spend his life with. He will be a super devoted lover and I really don’t think you’ll have much to complain about, as long as you’re someone who enjoys that it’s me and you until the end of time type love. Perhaps not for the faint of heart, but man he loves hard. Honestly, this is a super sweet chart he seems like someone that is just nice to be around. I imagine he brings a lot of happiness and support to the peoples in his lives

[ivyglow]

the bigger the secret, the greater the damage | Carter Hart

A/n: I’m not used to finishing my pieces with angst, but I hope this one reaches the expectations. Let me know what you think by sending me a private message or an ask (feedback is always appreciated!). 

Thanks one more time to @guentzgoal​ for proof reading this piece so fast. You’re the best, Tori! <3 

Requested: yes

Word count: 2.4k

Warnings: just to love birds dating in secret and fighting about it. 

Prompt: 32. “It just feels really shitty, to be the secret boyfriend/girlfriend.”;  86. “could we pretend that we’re in love?” 88. “i guess i was wrong about you” 

Working for the flyers was probably a dream for any media marketing undergraduate, but it was not a dream for you. Not when your dad was the head coach and made sure to let everyone know it after one month. He could not keep his mouth shut and honestly, you couldn’t blame him. You were each other’s only family and he tried to make sure you knew how much he appreciated you after struggling to accept your career choice during the early months. 

The first few weeks working with the players sometimes consisted of focusing on the databases behind the doors and eventually even going as far as photographing some moments, and you were able to blend in, no different treatment or anything. Well, except for Carter Hart, he treated you differently since the first day and he made sure you knew it.

You liked the transparency, it was nice to not keep worrying if you were reading too much between the lines. But at the same time, you knew better. He and any other player were in the list of things you should never get too close to.

Still, your best reasoning was not able to keep you two apart.

Two weeks later, you two were constantly messaging each other and talking about everything and anything, except for your relationship with his coach. Carter was in the dark about you being the coach’s daughter, and he was mad for some days after discovering with everyone else.

It made sense why you were so private and wanted him to keep it low key. 

It was not only the job, it was the father.

And of course, when Alain finally told everybody his daughter was working there, he also told that no one could lay a finger on you (especially his players).

It was too late, though. He probably should have told Carter sooner.

So the two of you kept talking. You developed a friendship with some other players as well, thanks to TK because he would always joke around about you being the daughter of the boss. But still, they didn’t know about you and Hart, you made him promised not to tell anyone, especially his teammates.

It was three or four months after you guys decided to turn the flirts and make-out sessions into something more serious.

Well, something more serious that wouldn’t involve meeting parents, posting pictures, or changing relationship statuses on social media. It was not quite what Carter was expecting, but still, he had you and you were exclusive and it was enough, or so he thought for some time.

It was a Sunday morning, the sun was creeping through the blinds hitting your face and giving the room a comfortable glow while your boyfriend watched you sleep beside him. Carter was used to the early morning practices, they were the reason why he was always the first to wake up, spending his time cooking breakfast, or just enjoying your company. Today was the latter.

He watched as soft snores came out of your slightly open mouth. You were holding him by his arm and even though the relationship was recent, it was long enough to Carter know some of your manners, he was very attentive when it comes to you. You were holding him not only for the warmth of his body but because you were used to sleeping holding something to. It went as far as when he wasn’t there, you would eventually cuddle a pillow that he mockingly dressed in one of his Flyers away jerseys.

You liked the routine you two created together, and yes sometimes you missed doing normal couple things like walking hand-in-hand or kissing without worrying if someone was around, but you had him and you feared that if things changed, your relationship would change, too, but for the worse.

Carter smiles softly at the faces you’re doing in your deep sleep and you stirred with the click of the camera, but his chest felt so comfortable against your arm and his muscles were in the best position next to your face. You could lay there forever.

And you did, not forever but as long as possible before you felt his stomach grumble in your hand that was laying flatly against his abs.

“Babe, as much as I would love to just chill in bed with you I really need some food” his voice was raspy, but not too much and that’s how you knew he was awake longer than you had imagined. You throw your body lazily on top of his searching for more warmth and lazily asking him for some stimulus.

His mouth was fast to found his favorite spot on your neck, close to your ear, the same spot that sends shivers through your whole body. He dragged his lips until they met your jaw seconds after.

“Wakey wakey, c’mon” he mumbled, hands gripping your waist.

You ignore his calls, choosing to get comfortable on that spot. “Alright, I’m posting this really cute picture and I thought you would want to help me with the filter since it’s you gripping me in your sleep…”

You jerked, almost falling off the bed.

“What picture?” Your heart racing, the image of your father discovering about your relationship with one of his players suddenly clouding your head.

Carter seemed to sense your uneasiness, “Hey, relax, I’m not posting it…” his forefinger found your chin guiding your face to his so it was easier to read what you were feeling.

“I’m sorry, Hartsy, it’s just nobody...we can’t let them discover...at least not like that…” you try to explain, the words suddenly vanishing.

The way his eyebrows furrowed and his lips formed a thin line you knew he was hurt. Carter wanted to tell everyone since the very first time, he wanted the whole relationship experience, he wanted to tell everyone how cute you were while sleeping, or how he cooked better than you, he wanted to post pictures of you two and comment in each one you posted. He had so many pictures of you. And he had small videos of you doing mundane things such as singing along your favorite song while driving and eating your favorite ice cream.

“It just feels really shitty, to be the secret boyfriend.”

“I get it, but you know I truly like you, right?” this time you were the one to bring his face to yours. You felt a pang in your heart with how his eyes looked everywhere before finally settling on your face.

He nodded, almost saying that he was tired, that he wanted someone real, something real. But it just took your lips to found his for him to give up the idea.

He didn’t want to give you an ultimatum, but he also did not want to keep getting hurt. 

You two lay there for a few more minutes in silence while Carter’s mind worked on overthinking the situation.

“My mom’s coming to town next month…” he started once your fingers found his hair, massaging his scalp lightly, “I was wondering if you wanna meet her.”

You stopped your movements for some seconds before his question settled. “Meet your mother?”

“Yeah.”

“That sounds...a big step. It’s not that I don’t want to, it’s just...I don’t know, Carter…” you trailed off. Meeting the parents was a step you were not sure about, first, you wanted to deal with your own father, and that’s the answer you gave him, “I kind of wanted to have a talk with my father before taking this step.”

His silence told you a message, loud and clear. And before you could try sugar coat it, the pang on your front door caught your attention.

You grabbed your robe and left the bed after giving Carter a peck. The walk to your front door took you less than one minute and once you reached it you regretted doing it so fast.

“Hey, dad!” the high pitched tone made your dad look at you, a confused expression on his face.

“Hey, y/n, you were still in bed?” Alain entered the house discarding his shoes at the entrance and heading to the sofa.

“I went to sleep late last night…” you told him before sitting on the other end of the couch. “I was working on some essays…” well, now you lied. You went to sleep late because that’s what happens when you and your secret boyfriend have the next day free.

Your father gives you a pointed look and you answered with a small smile, before bowing your head to pick with the nail polish that was almost disappearing on your nails. 

“Is there something you wanna tell me?” he asked suddenly and you cursed silently.

Alain knew you better than your mom did, he knew your traits and how you used to act when you were either nervous or trying to keep something. He wasn’t home very often in your childhood, but the time he could make it, he made sure to take the better out of it. He was attentive off the ice too.

“Nah, there’s nothing, dad. I’m just...exhausted.”

“Y/n, I’m your father…”

“I’m aware of that…” you mumbled sarcastically with a light tone before chuckling. He rolled his eyes.

“I was talking with your mom last night…” he started and you cursed again, cause when they teamed up to make you do something, it usually worked, like the time you did not want to go to the doctor after two days of high fever or when you wanted a cat but they both didn’t. “And she thinks you’re dating someone.”

They were a good team indeed.

And you thought it was cool that they weren’t together anymore, but they still talked like old friends.

“What?” you chided suddenly scared of what he was thinking. What if he wandered through your small apartment? It wouldn’t take much for him to find Carter. 

“Yeah, she heard someone last time she called you and she also said you seemed to be at the clouds with distraction.” 

A groan left your mouth and you got up, “I hate how mom’s always thinking that I’m dating someone. You know how I act when I like someone, dad, and I don’t like someone right now” you started your rant, “See, she probably heard this boy I was seeing for some months, we met at my first workplace, but it wasn’t nothing serious. The last thing I want right now is a relationship.” You were so caught up into making your father give up on the idea that you were dating you didn’t see Carter standing behind the door to the hallway, “and, to be honest, you know if it was something serious I would have told you by now. Have I told you something? Have I mentioned someone to you, dad?” 

He seems to study your face for some seconds before making an unexpected turn, “You do remember we made a promise of not dating any of my players, right?” 

You sight before nodding your head.

“This boy...was it really from your old job?” 

You nod again. You couldn’t risk losing your father’s trust and you couldn’t go back to live with your mom, he was ok with everything and he meant it, everything but dating his players. It was important to him and you promised you wouldn’t do it. Alain was your only family on this side of the country. It was him or going to France with your mother. 

“Dad, you know me when I’m in love. You remember Trevor when I was in middle school?! Or Dennis from our beach house...Do I look like I used to when I was head over heels for them?” Your question was answered with a chuckle, you were obsessed with these two boys. Trevor was the first boy you liked, you remember writing about him in your diary every day, and then Dennis came during a summer in high school, he was tall and very cute and you loved his dark hair. 

“I guess you have a point, y/n,” he said finally, “I just came to see if you want to grab dinner tonight. I was expecting to grab lunch, but I supposed you didn’t even have breakfast yet…” his light tone says everything’s alright and you relax tossing your body on the couch.

“I’m sorry, dad. But dinner sounds perfect,” you wondered. 

“Great, I need to go now. I’ll find someone else to have lunch with” he dropped a kiss against your forehead and you giggled with his words.

“You should get a girlfriend” you joke before he reaches the door. 

“Yeah, who knows…” 

You groaned, before getting up in minds of going back to bed, but Carter was already in your living room with one big step. You felt the blood drain from your face.

The evident look of hurt on his eyes. 

“Harsty,” you try to start but he just shook his head. 

“I knew I liked you more than you liked me, but I didn’t think you thought so little of me…” the way his hands were on his sweatpants pockets and his eyebrows furrowed, his whole body language screaming that he was hurt and it was on you. Your fault. 

“No! That was me trying to keep us from getting caught.”

“You’re the one with this damn idea that we should keep it all in secret. You had the perfect chance to simply come clean and tell him everything, but you chose to lie...well, tell him half of the truth, considering you don’t like me the way I thought you did.” 

Your eyes were watering and you tried to reach him, touch him, reassure him that it wasn’t as bad as you made it seem to your dad minutes ago. This time Carter didn’t back down and so you held him by his large shoulders, trying to catch his eyes, trying to make him see that it wasn’t your intention. 

“Could we pretend that we’re in love?” he whispered, his tone so small if you weren’t so close you would never hear. “Can you treat me like this Dennis or Trevor guy just for once...cause I guess I was wrong about you.” 

You stutter, the words getting stuck, your stomach low on your belly and before you could get yourself together he slips through your fingers. 

“You don’t have to worry about keeping it away from everyone, there’s no secret to keep anymore. I’m done. We’re done.” 

 You can find more of my writing here. 

[tessisawriter]

Irreplaceable (Nolan Patrick)

Request: 51 and 54 with Nolan Patrick but make it happy at the end pleaseeee 😘💞

A/N Updated: A certain player who was featured has now been replaced with Robert Hagg (I know nothing about Robert; I only chose him to keep the storyline intact).  

A/N (Original): I loved writing jealous Nolan!!! I’m suspending disbelief here in pretending our current nightmare never happened, the NHL season proceeded as normal, and the Flyers clinched their playoff spot in an epic game like they deserved.

Warnings: Swearing, angst, alcohol consumption

Word Count: 1.6k

“You know what? I’ve changed my mind, it was a mistake coming here,” you said as you approached the entrance to the club.

“Oh no,” your best friend, Ethan, held up a hand. “You need a night out to relax and have fun. The Flyers have you working way too hard. I was never this stressed out while working with the Phantoms.”

You wavered. “That’s true, but it’ll be awkward seeing him here.”

“Who cares? It’s not like Nolan has a monopoly on this club. You have just as much of a right to be here as he does.”

You silently cursed in your head; Ethan made a good point. “You’re right, this is silly. Let’s just get in there before I change my mind.”

You and Ethan made your way to the bar and had just received your glasses of whiskey when Robert approached. “Y/N, you’re here!” he shouted in your ear while hugging you.

“Of course I am: you guys were gone for a week and clinched a playoff spot in the process! Welcome home, by the way!”

“Thanks! Seriously though, I’m glad you came: Nolan has been insufferable, moping around like a sad puppy. I just can’t take it anymore!” Robert complained.

You winced at the mention of Nolan, both because you knew the secret was out and the memories were still fresh, before recovering and replying, “It’s his fault, but let’s not dwell on that anymore: we’re here to let loose, have fun, and celebrate.”

“That’s the spirit! Ethan, it’s good to see you again, man!” Robert turned his attention to your best friend and shook his hand. “How’s real estate treating you?”

“It’s up and down, as always,” he replied, and before you knew it, Robert was dragging Ethan over to the other guys who once played for the Phantoms. With nowhere else to go, you followed them to the other end of the bar and watched as Scott Laughton and Travis Sanheim embraced him. The boys settled into a conversation while you ordered another whiskey. When it was ready, Ethan handed you the glass and threw his arm casually around your shoulders.

Such gestures of affection were normal. You and Ethan were friends since middle school and thought of each other as brother and sister. Whereas other childhood friendships ended after high school, you only became closer because you went to Muhlenberg together, him for business and you for sports medicine. It was during sophomore year that Ethan secured a job with the Flyers’ AHL affiliate, the Lehigh Valley Phantoms, whose arena is also located in Allentown, and he worked there until senior year.

After graduation last spring, Ethan left the Phantoms and went into real estate, but he managed to snag you an interview with the big club’s athletic trainers. You got the job and went in with already established friendships; many of the current Flyers were with the Phantoms at some point during Ethan’s time there, so you were a familiar face. Your eventual best friend on the team, however, was someone who never played for the Phantoms: Nolan Patrick.

Nolan hadn’t yet played this season due to a migraine disorder, and you quickly joined the other trainers in facilitating his recovery. It was a long and hard road for Nolan, but he forged a bond with you during that time. Most people kept asking how he was feeling, which grated on his nerves, but you didn’t. Knowing there would be good days and bad days, you never pried beyond what was necessary, and he deeply appreciated that. You also shared his sarcastic sense of humor and a love of the outdoors. Naturally, you developed feelings for each other, so Nolan eventually asked you out, and your friendship grew into a secret romantic relationship. You knew you would have to come clean eventually, but you were both worried about the ramifications of dating each other.

Two months into your relationship, you were having dinner at a local diner when you ran into Flyers’ captain Claude Giroux and his wife, Ryanne. When Claude asked if you were dating, you figured the jig was up and were about to say yes when Nolan replied, “No, we’re just friends.” You were humiliated to say the least; it was as if you were some dirty secret he wanted to hide. You left as soon as Claude and Ryanne found a table, not wanting Nolan to see you cry. Two days and many pep talks later, you went to work with your head held high only to discover that Nolan accompanied the Flyers on their road trip. You hadn’t seen him since.

“Uh, Y/N,” Robert whispered in your ear, snapping you out of your reverie. You hadn’t even noticed that he took Ethan’s place at your side.

“Yeah?”

“I don’t want you to be blindsided, so I’m going to tell you now: Nolan’s here.”

“So what? I figured he’d be here,” you said, twisting your head around to look for him. The whiskey had done its magic and helped you relax a bit.

“Yeah, but…” Robert protested, but he was too late: you had already spotted Nolan across the room. He was dancing with a tall blonde girl, and his hands were on her hips. You were distantly aware that Ethan and the other boys had stopped talking and were watching to see how you’d react.

You cleared your throat and said, “I see how it is.” Tears burned behind your eyes, but you refused to let them fall. “I appreciate you trying to spare my feelings, Robert, but he’s clearly just fine.”

He looked flabbergasted. “But...I don’t understand why he’s...”

“It’s okay, Robert, I get it. But I’m going to need a favor from you.” You didn’t give him time to respond before you closed the distance between you and kissed him on the lips. To your surprise, Robert reciprocated, running one hand through your hair and placing the other on the small of your back, pulling you closer to him.

“What the fuck is this?” A deep and familiar voice boomed.

Robert jumped away from you, his eyes wide in shock and mouth opening and closing as if he wanted to say something. You turned around and found yourself surprised by the state he was in: his cheeks were flaming red, his eyes burned with fury, and his hands were clenched into fists. Nolan was one of those people who stayed calm until they exploded like a volcano, so you had to have really hurt him to provoke that kind of reaction. You knew you should feel bad, but you felt a sense of satisfaction from seeing him experience the pain he put you through this week.

You plastered a fake smile on your face. “Oh, hi, Nolan! I didn’t know you were here.”

He ignored you and yelled at Robert. “How dare you make out with Y/N? She’s my girl!”

Robert’s eyes widened even further, and you felt white-hot anger pulse through your veins. Nolan had no right to act like this: just last week he couldn’t tell Claude you were dating, but now that he thought you were moving on, you were his girl? You spared Robert from having to respond by snapping, “I kissed him, Nolan, because I can do whatever I want. We’re not dating, remember?”

“Y/N, I…” Nolan blanched; it seemed he was coming to his senses.

But you weren’t ready to let it go just yet. “You have some nerve trying to control me. You moved on, so did I.”

Confusion took over Nolan’s features. “What are you talking about?”

“That blonde girl you were with a few minutes ago. Yeah, I saw you. Am I really that replaceable that you can move on so quickly?”

“I don’t even know her, Y/N!” he shouted. “She was following me around all night, and I rebuffed her a few times. But then I saw you with Robert, and I was so jealous that I asked her to dance. It’s not like I can blame you, though,” he said when you opened your mouth to reply. “I fucked up. I’ve been in love with you since October, but I let my fear control me when it mattered most and I hurt you. I’m so sorry, Y/N. I hope you and Robert are happy together.”

His speech rendered you speechless. You stood still for a while, blinking, and only found your voice when he began to walk away: “Robert and I aren’t together.”

Nolan turned around. “Really?”

“Really. I might’ve let my jealousy get the best of me when I saw you dancing with that girl and guilt-tripped Robert into kissing me. I’m really sorry about that, by the way,” you addressed Robert. “It was a shitty thing for me to do.”

Robert blushed. “It’s all right, you were hurt. I get it.”

“Wait, let me get this straight,” Nolan cut in. “You were jealous too?”

“Guilty,” you admitted.

Nolan’s eyes were filled with hope. “Does that mean we can start over? I love you, and I want the whole world to know it.”

You smiled, not a fake smile but a genuine one, for the first time in a week. “Yeah. I think we’ve both learned our lesson.”

Nolan cupped your face in his hands and kissed you. Cheers erupted all around you, which normally would’ve made you embarrassed, but you were too happy to care.

When you pulled away for air, Nolan whispered in your ear: “For the record, you are irreplaceable, Y/N L/N.”

[hockeyboysimagines]

Opening up blurbs for tomorrow only! Please refer to my masterlist for who I write for, and prompt list!

Can’t wait!

[zackcollins]

I have an idea for a Carter Hart fic. It would be about Carter mentoring someone that made the switch to goalie at 22 after having wanted to be a goalie since she was 7. It’s gonna be a like. A slow-burn strangers to friends to lovers.

The only thing is the character actually has a name this time. I’m gonna try to branch out and write something a little different. What does everyone think? Any feedback would be great!

[milfgritty]

dating would include | c. hart

❀ ⇢ requested: yes | no

⇢ posted: 01.07.19 . | . masterlist

can we just start this off with saying that whoever dates this boy irl is so lucky?

because carter is literally probably the perfect boyfriend and no one can change my mind

you first meet at trial on the isle the summer he starts pro

first meeting was him just running you over

full on you went flying onto the sand

and carter nearly has a heart attack

and then he looks down and sees you

and he really does have a heart attack

jk

but really he just starts panicking as soon as he sees you sprawled out in the sand dazed

because holy shit he just nearly killed someone

and a cute someone at that

you’re just sitting there, ass aching

confused af

at first you’re like Pissed

but then you look up and see carter fucking hart standing over you

and he’s just panicking

red as hell eyes wide mouth gaping

and suddenly it’s??? really hot out here wow

it takes a few more seconds of just staring at each other before carter reaches out to help you up

and he’s stuttering out all kinds of apologies

you can barely understand anything he’s saying he’s so nervous

and he’s just like hoping that he hasn’t already ruined any and every chance he has with you

spoiler he def didn’t

needless to say you hit it off and suddenly you have a shadow for the rest of the day

numbers are exchanged

mass texts are sent

the two of you start talking and just never stop

nothing really happens romantically with between you until he comes back for camp in september

it’s basically the worst case of slow burn ever

but then he’s back in philly and he decides to hell with it I’m making a move

the ‘move’ is him just blurting out that he really likes you and that it would be awesome if you let him take you out on a date like an actual date

it happens while you’re out getting coffee while out together downtown

you agree in a heartbeat because uhhhhhh yes? obviously? it’s about time??

and thus the start of a beautiful relationship

like I said earlier this boy is probably the closest thing to a perfect boyfriend as you can get

you become his new rock

you laugh at him when his electric gets turned off

and then have to give him kisses to get him to stop pouting

he’s always touching you in some way

innocently get your head out the gutter

his favorite is his hand around your waist with you leaning into him

just the feeling of your body against his comforts him so much

he’s literally so polite about pda too

like always checking if you’re okay with everything before he does it

100% asks before he kisses you he's That Guy

disney prince carter anyone?

the whole going to a sports psychologist since he was a kid thing pays off a lot

it helps so much in your relationship

like he says he doesn’t pay that much attention to the future franchise star/savior thing that everyone goes on about but you know he does a little

he never lets anything hockey related affect your relationship though

he almost did once and he felt so bad after

apologized immediately, went and got you flowers

you always let him know that you’re there for him

sometimes after a bad game he’ll lay down on you and just rant while you stroke his hair and listen

he constantly says that just being with you makes him feel so much better

speaking of so much better

boy was a wreck before his nhl debut

only calmed down when you sat him down and talked to him about it

you ended up going to the game and sitting with his family and parks

it was nerve wracking meeting his parents so soon after dating

when you brought it up to carter that’s when he told you he loved you for the first time

“I want my family to meet the girl I love but if you're not comfortable with that I get it you don’t have to”

“wait wait you what now?”

cue flustered bb carter

definitely not how he wanted to say the first I love you but hey it worked out

you got on great with his family

they love you almost as much as carter does

ngl you cried with his mom when he won

you were so proud of him and you made sure to tell him 

and show him when you got home

you always joke to each other how lucky you were that he ran you down all those months ago

and neither of you would go back and change anything about what happened

[trashforhockeyguys]

Don’t Hold Me -21- Carter Hart

A/N: Only a few parts left until we reach the end! I remain so amazed by all of the love that this story has gotten. It’s been an amazing ride, and I can’t wait for you guys to see how it all ends! and as always, all previous parts are linked in my masterlist.

You woke up again early in the morning. Truthfully, you couldn’t sleep most of the night. You’d nearly forgotten how much you hated hospitals. But Carter was right beside you when you woke up. He was slumped over, head resting just by your hand on the bed. You smiled softly and treated your hand through his soft hair. He slowly started to stir. You could see him slowly start to wake up. The pain in the rest of your body was nothing compared to the ache you felt in your chest when you saw how tired he looked, how his eyes were so red you knew that he hadn’t stopped crying.

“Cart,” Your voice broke, tears finally spilling from your eyes. 

You hadn’t cried up until now. You didn’t cry when Nolan stopped by while Ethan was on the phone. He could barely make it into your room before his legs almost gave out on him. You didn’t cry when you talked to your mom and dad on the phone, because they refused to hang up with Ethan until they heard your voice. You didn’t cry when you talked to the police and told them everything you could with Ethan in the room...but there were some things you didn’t want him to hear.

You tugged Carter towards you as much as you could. He silently cried as he climbed into your bed and held you as tightly as he dared. You couldn’t imagine what he’d gone through. You couldn’t even bring yourself to think about it. 

“I thought I’d lost you,” He whimpered. 

You’d never heard him sound so broken before. You ran your fingers through his hair and tried to think of a way to comfort the both of you. Something in you broke. Something you didn’t even know could break. Carter was always your rock, he was the steadfast one. But he was broken now too. 

“I’m right here,” You forced out, feeling the hot tears roll down your cheeks, “I’m okay. I’m right here.”

 He carefully laid down next to you, making sure he wasn’t on the side that was hurt. You could only hold him as both of you cried. You knew that he was afraid to let him go, and you couldn’t blame him. So you just kept telling him that you weren’t going anywhere, that you were okay. That was all you could do really. 

When he finally fell asleep, you couldn’t stand to move him. He was still clutching onto you, his hair still tickling your neck as you gently combed through what you could of it with your fingers. He was at peace for the moment and that was all you cared about. 

It could’ve been minutes or hours before your door slowly opened. Travis poked his head in, trying so hard not to disturb you or anyone else. You felt your heart swell. Travis was your family. You could see the relief wash across his face when he saw you holding Carter like a mother held a child. Because Travis knew that meant you were as okay as you could be.

He almost felt like his legs could give out before he made it to the chair on the other side of the bed from where Carter was. You couldn’t find the right words to say to him. You truthfully couldn’t find the right words to say to any of them. 

“How long has he been asleep?” Travis asked quietly. 

“I’m not sure. I think I might’ve fallen asleep for a minute too,” You admitted, “But I don’t want to wake him up.”

“Well, we’ll have to eventually, him and I have a game tonight,” He said softly, “They offered to let him and I sit out, Patty too, but we all agreed that you’d kick our asses if we didn’t play.”

You couldn’t help but smile and laugh a little, “Damn right I would.”

Travis lost his smile as he really looked at you. You knew that he wasn’t thinking about anything good. You wished you could just find a way to take all of it away from them. Maybe they would’ve been better off without you in their lives.

“He did it, didn’t he?” Travis asked. 

You glanced down at Carter, still sound asleep. Just like Ethan, there were some things that Carter didn’t need to know either. Yet, for some reason Travis seemed like the only person you could really tell about what really happened that night. 

“You’re the first one that’s actually asked that,” You said softly. 

“Did you tell the police that it was him? That Zach did this?” Travis questioned. 

You shook your head, “Ethan was right there...I didn’t want him to hear.”

Travis cursed and sat back in the chair. He slipped his hat off and combed through his hair before putting it back on, “Are you going to report him? I swear to god if you don’t I will.”

“I will...once I get out of here. I will.”

His shoulders slumped. It was like you could see all of this weighing him down. It broke your heart. You never meant to hurt any of them. That was the last thing you wanted. Yet the end result seemed to be the same thing. Everyone got hurt. 

“I’m sorry Trav.”

“Why didn’t you just tell us he was still harassing you?”

“I thought that I could handle it. You guys had enough to worry about. I kept thinking he’d just go away,” You tried to explain, “But I forgot that Zachary doesn’t give up.”

He cursed again, “So he fucking shot you. You’re sure it’s him?”

You nodded slowly, “I wasn’t sure at first. But he said something before he did, Carter couldn’t remember exactly what he said...But Zachary called me Doll. It was him.”

Travis clenched his fists. Even he thought that you finally had enough of Zachary. Just like everyone else, he thought you’d be safe in Philly. He thought he could keep you safe. But when it really came down to it, he had no idea what was really happening.  He didn’t know how much pain you were in all semester trying to hide it from everyone and keep all of them out of the line of fire. He was meant to protect you...he promised his family that he would. But he failed. 

“I’m sorry that I didn’t do anything about it,” Travis shook his head in disbelief. 

“Trav, you didn’t know. You couldn’t have known,” You reminded him, “Please don’t blame yourself. None of you knew.”

“I should’ve known. You were acting exactly like you did before.”

“You hoped that I was safe this time. No one else saw him in the city, but he was still here, just waiting.”

“We have to be at the rink soon,” You could see the sadness in Travis’ eyes. He didn’t want to go either. Or maybe he just felt bad about having to wake up Carter, “Tell him I’m waiting in the car.”

Travis leaned down and kissed the top of your head before slipping out of the room. You didn’t really want to have to wake Carter up either. You felt comfortable like this. Normally he was the one holding you, but it was also nice to hold him too. You knew he hadn’t been sleeping, you were told as much. But still, you knew he needed to go.

You gently shook him, trying hard not to move too much. But he seemed to be sleeping so heavily it didn’t even bother him. You smiled softly and shook him again, “Carter, love, you have to wake up.” 

He hummed, or maybe groaned, but you knew he was trying to stay asleep. This felt just like all the mornings you woke up next to him in his bed. Neither of you ever wanted to move then. Not when the bed was so cozy and you were wrapped up in each other. You wished you could be wrapped up in bed with him, cozy in his apartment.

“Carter, I’m serious. You have a game,” You shook him again. 

“No. No game,” He grumbled.

“Yes a game,” You laughed, “Travis is waiting in his car outside.”

“But I don’t want to leave you,” He whispered, trying to tuck himself further into your side. 

“Cart, I’ll be right here when you get back. Not like I can just walk out.”

He looked up at you, eyes brimming with tears, “You promise?”

You gently grabbed his face and kissed him, “I promise, I won’t go anywhere.”

You kissed him again, this time he actually allowed himself to react. He still held onto you tightly, like he was afraid you’d just slip away from him. You couldn’t say that you blamed him. You let him hold onto you as tightly as he wanted. Eventually he let go, carefully sliding off of your bed. 

“Go be a goalie god,” You told him, “I’ll be ready to celebrate when you get back.”

He lingered for a few more seconds before grabbing his coat and starting to make his way towards the door. Just before he left he paused and turned back, “I love you, so much. I hope you know that.”

You nodded, not being able to help the smile that spread across your face, “I love you too Carter. You have no idea.”

[rosypats19-blog]

Requests

I am ready to wrote again, so send in your fic requests, or whatever.

[drabblemesilly]

Carter Hart #2

Requested by Anon:  Can I request a fluffy Carter Hart. Maybe he is nervous about this WJC after he lost in a shootout last year.

*Here you go!! I am cheering so hard for Carter this year. He deserves so much love. Plus he’s doing so good! Enjoy! :)*

Word count: 716

If there was one thing you’re proud of, it’s your ability to read Carter Hart the way goalies have the ability to read plays from the other end of the rink. It just comes naturally to you and it has always helped you when he’s being sulky and silent.

Case in point: now.

Looking over to where he was sitting on his couch, you picked a roll of tape and tossed it to him, “you’re going to do great.”

He snapped out of his thoughts and blinked at you, “huh?”

You shrugged, crawling over to where he was now toying with the roll of hockey tape you just tossed, “you’re over thinking things,” you told him, “you’re not going to choke and you’re not gonna lose this time,” kissing his cheek, you added, “got it?”

“Except,” he sighed, “when I actually choke and then we lose again.”

You chuckled, “yeah, no,” you shook your head, “it’s not gonna happen this time,” you winked, putting an arm around his shoulder.

Carter kicked his feet and leaned into you, his chin resting on top of your head, “and you know this because?”

“Because I believe in you,” you simply said, your voice muffled by his chest, “and I know you’re coming back better and stronger.”

“I love that you’re so confident in my skills,” he sniggered.

“Well,” you pulled back just enough to look him in the eye, “they wouldn’t have asked you to come back if you were so bad at your job, Carter,” you grinned, “they invited you back because you’re so good at being a goalie, the Flyers will probably call you up by February.”

“Give Elliott and Neuvirth a run for their money?” he joked.

“Oh,” you nodded, rolling your eyes a little, “they’re shitting their pants at the mention of your name.”

He laughed at that, his shoulders shaking, “I love the way your mind works, lady.”

Finally, you felt him relax. You broke away from your hug and started massaging his shoulders. He’s supposed to pack today so he can leave and meet the rest of the team tomorrow before they head out to Buffalo. Carter is almost done and yet he’s stalling. First he was looking for his extra phone charger, ‘just in case’ and then he was looking for his tape, as if there will be a shortage there – he’s going to a hockey tournament. They have equipment and equipment managers.

You started massaging his shoulders, “Carter, you are so tensed,” you pressed harder, “relax.”

“I’m scared,” he confessed, “I can’t afford the cost of giving Canada another championship loss.”

“I told you,” you reminded him, “this is your year, Carter,” you kissed him lightly, “grab it by the balls.”

“I’d rather not grab any balls,” he laughed before sobering, “it’s gonna be all good, right?”

“Better,” you slipped your arms around him and hugged him from the back, “plus I’m gonna be there with my sign and all,” you kissed his cheek, “so that’s something to look forward to, at least.”

“Are you busting out the ‘my boyfriend’s a keeper’ sign?” he smiled.

You nodded, “you know it.”

When you started dating and made things exclusive, you printed out a picture of Carter with the words ‘my boyfriend is a keeper’ underneath it. It was cheesy and cringe worthy but he loved it so you still bring it to the games.

Just as the laughter died down, you walked around Carter and sat on his lap, your head resting on his shoulder. Like on autopilot, his arm circled went on to circle your waist. Carter turned his head a little and gave you a small peck on your forehead, his hand absentmindedly caressing the small of your back.

“You’re going to give your best out there,” you whispered, “just like last year and no one will fault you for anything,” you kissed the crook of his neck, “I hope you realize that, babe.”

“It’s just that – last year,” he sighed.

“Well, stop thinking about it,” you ordered.

“I can’t.”

“You had a different girlfriend last year,” you joked, “so obviously, this year’s WJC is off to a better start already.”

He grinned, “you,” he chuckled, “really are amazing.”

“Thanks,” you smiled back at him, “not as amazing as you, though.” 

[deepfriedtwinkie]

Kingsman: A Trainee’s Mission (Pt. VIII)

PREQUEL FIC, this section ~2,300w

pt. I  | pt. II  | pt. III  | pt. IV  | pt. V  | pt. VI  | pt. VII

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It’s four of them left at the end. Harry, Hamish, and their final hurdles, Derrington and William. He thinks back to the moment they stood there, proposing agents at their shoulders, and listened to Arthur inform them they’d reached the final stage.

Everything had rung in his ears for the remainder of the night. Possibly it might’ve had a thing or two to do with being drugged, but there’s plenty reason enough to doubt it was only that. Surreality, for one thing. Utter surreality.

One sentence, and his goal was within reach. No other candidate craves this the way he does. They haven’t had the chance.

He’s finally reached the stage that’s going to change his life forever. One way or another.

Harry glances anxiously around the drawing room where he was told to wait, kneading his hands, minding Mr. Pickle at his feet. He’s trying to conjure up a focused mental review of his past twenty-four hours with Martin. There’d been plenty of advice, he was sure. Peppered with years of a seasoned field agent’s wisdom, cautionary tales, and all sorts of things like that. The problem is, the only thing he can seem to remember is the proper way to make a martini. Ice, gin, vermouth, shake, pour, garnish. It’s not very helpful at the moment.

His gaze jumps up when the door opens, expecting Arthur. Instead, it’s Hamish, Ainsley loping obediently at his heels. He shuts the door behind him and comes to sit, settling on the far end of Harry’s divan.

The two hold a shared look for a beat or two, capped off with singular nods. It’s a heavy moment, and that’s acknowledgment enough of that.

Until it isn’t, because who are they to kid themselves at this point.

“Are you nervous?” Hamish asks quietly. It’s the most pensive Harry’s ever heard him.

He can’t give that anything but honesty. He lets his head bob. “Yes. Very much.” Then he looks left, watching his friend contemplate his hands. “You?”

The silence lasts far longer than he expected it to. Hamish doesn’t look up. He hardly moves at all, in fact. It lasts until Harry is tempted to ask what the matter is.

Then, without preamble, he doesn’t have to.

“My aunt died three years ago,” Hamish says.

Immediately, Harry’s empathy is lead in his stomach. He wouldn’t dream of prodding this time.

“I was just a tyke when my parents’ car wrecked in the highlands. Didn’t even think twice before she took me in.”

He has to pause. Harry’s overwhelmingly compelled to let him off the hook.

“You don’t have to tell me any of this,” he insists softly.

Hamish’s head shakes. His hands cover his knees, and his glance finds the window. He continues. “We lived in Edinburgh. Got by all right on her pension, and she’d patch up the neighbors’ clothes for a discount whenever we needed a little extra. Worked her fingers to the bone for me, she did. Then, one day… Pneumonia. Ten days in hospital, and that was it. It was foster homes after that. Four, maybe five of them. Shit ones, mostly.”

The more of this he says out loud, the more vulnerability his stoic face betrays. Harry knows what’s coming. It doesn’t take a genius to get there.

“I turned eighteen a week ago,” Hamish reveals, and it’s the softest part of all. His eyes drift somewhere far away. “If this…”

He doesn’t say any more. They both know he doesn’t have to. Harry works out the rest on his own. There won’t be another foster home. Or any funds to follow his intern work to Berlin, either.

There’s nothing left for Hamish out there. Nowhere to go.

Maybe he’s not the one who wants this the most after all.

Harry wracks his brain for something to say. It takes several moments, but he lands on something he thinks might hit the right note. His inspiration licks her paw.

“Is Ainsley named after her?” he asks.

Hamish nods again. It’s hard to spot at first, but one side of his mouth shows signs of twisting toward amusement. “What’d you study at Oxford, anyway? Let me guess: psychology?”

“Political science major with a minor in entomology, specializing in lepidoptery.”

“Lepi-what-the-fuck?”

“It’s the study of butterflies.”

“I was right, you’re something the fuck else.” Grinning faintly now, Hamish sighs, and he retraces his mental steps, idly scratching behind his bloodhound’s ear. “Mrs. Ainsley. Her and my mother’s maiden name. That’s what she liked everyone to call her. God help the sod who didn’t. It was Aunt Ainsley to me, too, no exceptions.”

Hopefully it’s in good taste to ask questions again, because he can’t resist poking at the pattern he’s seeing. He’s a shit, after all. “Why was that?”

“Oh, her first name was Agathe. She fucking hated the thing.”

Harry’s urge to laugh slips free before he can temper it.  Slowly, it catches, and by the time Arthur appears in the doorway, the two of them are confusing the hell out of the dogs, employing sleeves to rid the tears from their eyes.

“We’re ready for the both of you,” Arthur says. “If and when you’re quite finished.” He gives nothing more to their antics past a single peaked eyebrow. It’s very evidently not his first foray, but he looks like he’d love for it to be the last. Harry straightens quickly, aware of Hamish doing the same.

The adjacent doors have opened as well. One to the right, the other left. Lamorak is framed in one. Lancelot in the other.

There’s one order of business left before he takes his summons. Standing tall, Harry protrudes his hand to Hamish.

“Good luck, friend.”

Hamish clasps it, shaking heartily.

“And to you.”

Whatever awaits, may we both be Kingsman when it’s through with.

Turning apart, they go their separate ways. Harry hears the shutting of doors behind him, comforted by Mr. Pickle’s loyal trot as he meets Agent Lamorak, entering a sunlit parlor. It’s the sort of room he’d love to read a book in. Maybe he will, once he’s an agent. Because he’s going to be an agent. He’s going to be.

“Have a seat,” Martin instructs. Harry does, and so does Mr. Pickle. Just look at you. You couldn’t possibly be better behaved. I hope you know how much I appreciate you making me look good on this.

After all this time, he knows better than to expect his instructions straightforwardly. He knows to wait for them. He’s still waiting when Martin reaches into his jacket, pulling out his handgun. Extending it to him.

“Take it,” he says.

The sinking feeling in the pit of his gut knows something that he doesn’t. He wishes it would tell him sooner than later. Harry takes the weapon cautiously, eyes plastered to the agent’s face, seeking out the answer.

“That’s a full clip.”

It seems a little obvious to point out. You don’t say? I’d have expected most Kingsman to carry around empties for the fun of it. The fact that he’s deflecting even in his own head is a fairly severe warning sign.

Something is wrong. Something awful is coming. He just doesn’t know what.

Until Martin calmly finishes his sip of liquor.

“Shoot the dog,” he says.

Harry’s world narrows to a single frame, zooming nauseously to a point, and that point is Mr. Pickle’s trusting face. He wants to retch. He wants to turn the gun on Martin, just for the suggestion, and fuck all he’s done for him. All he can do is stare at him in shock.

How can this be what you want from me? How can this be what you’re asking?

He wonders if his mother would fault him if he left this room and never looked back. He wonders how long it would take him to fault himself.

He rips his appalled gape away from Lamorak, landing it where it belongs, letting it soften to something between pure love and despair. Mr. Pickle shifts his weight patiently to new paws, unaware of any of this. Unaware that he… That this could…

He can’t even think it. He can’t imagine a world in which obeying that order is okay. In which he can live with himself in the aftermath. Every suit would be blood red to him. Every one of his triumphs tainted with the sickest form of selfishness, the murder of something that had unconditionally loved and trusted him, who hadn’t done a thing to anyone. A completely–

Harry’s mind reboots itself.

A completely innocent being.

A Kingsman only condones the risking of one life to save another.

Things begin to click faster than he knows what to do with them.

The net in the gorge.

The bombs that stopped at zero.

Why specifically tell me the gun was loaded, unless…?

The danger was never real. All this time, it was never real. We were only meant to think it was.

Martin isn’t asking mindless obedience. Kingsman aren’t killing machines, and they don’t want them. He’s asking for comprehension. He’s asking if he’s understood.

Harry bolts to his feet, hands quivering. He has to do it before his nerve fails him. He has to do it now. It has to be now.

His trembling aim rises. Then steadies, by force. Mr. Pickle’s amber eyes glint up at him from over the barrel. His revelation didn’t end his insides’ churn, and neither does that.

Please, please God, let me be right. Don’t let me hurt this dog. Please, I beg of you, don’t let me have gotten this wrong. Don’t let me be wrong…

He fires.

The pellet bounces off Mr. Pickle’s fur. He staggers backward with a whimper.

Nothing more.

The gun is on the ground and Harry’s dog is in his arms before he registers, even remotely, that the sound of his gunshot was doubled by the room across the way.

“Oh, I’m so sorry, sweetheart, did that nasty thing hit you?” Mr. Pickle is wriggling like mad, stretching to reach his face and lick every inch of it, and he wouldn’t have it any other way. Laughter bubbles out of him with tears, and it’s hard to tell which came first. “Oh, yes, I know. I know. I would never hurt you. I would never, ever hurt you, Mr. Pickle. Not for all the money in the world. Not for a thing.”

Martin rises while Harry’s still pressing soothing kisses to Mr. Pickle’s scruff. After another half-dozen or so, he finally senses he should pay attention, and looks over in time to see Martin replace his weapon, straighten his jacket, and offer his hand.

It’s then that it happens. He’s unprepared to commit it to memory, but he’s going to anyway.

“Welcome,” says Martin, “to Kingsman. Agent Galahad.”

Welcome to Kingsman.

Gently, Harry plops Mr. Pickle back to the floor. His eyes are full this time, and he makes no excuse for them. Reflex takes Martin’s hand for him. He barely feels his arm move.

Thank you, sir. His brain sends the command to his mouth. “And Derrington…?” is what incredulously comes out instead.

Please don’t let there be a chance of losing this. Don’t let there be an asterisk.

“Shot the dog, too,” Martin says, pumping his hand. Harry’s heart nearly stops, and so does the handshake. It’s Martin’s look that saves it. “Then thought the blank must be some mistake. Tried to take Geraint’s sidepiece and finish the job. I hear Molly bit him. No one stopped her, either. He’ll be on his way home once the dart wears off.”

Harry exhales so heavily his lungs might as well be raisins. Never in his life has he been so grateful a human being turned out that depraved.

“You’ve done it, Harry,” Martin confirms with a grin. “We all knew you could. Your mother will be extraordinarily proud.”

Mother… He’s got to phone her. He’s got to get to a telephone. He’s got to…

No, not yet. Not yet.

There was a second gunshot.

He grabs his mentor’s hand again, rattling away at his elbow like a lineman in a lever factory. “Thank you, sir. Thank you, I’m honored. I… May I be excused?”

There’s something knowing in Martin’s expression, and he nods. “Go on.”

Scooping up Mr. Pickle, Harry all but throws open the door. The one on the other side is already open, framing Lancelot again, only this time, smiling in the background. Hamish is already charging to the middle of the drawing room.

Grinning ear-to-ear.

“William?” Harry demands.

“Couldn’t do it; Kay sent him home.”

“Ainsley?”

“She’s all right.”

If there’s anything his memory allows him to keep about this day, anything that holds its clarity instead of fading to the blur of awe and adrenaline, Harry wants it to be this. The moment that he extends his hand again, this time brimming with the glee of a ten-year-old boy, standing tall in a Kingsman agent’s shoes.

“It’s an honor to be working with you, Merlin.”

No one else knows the relief on his friend’s face like he does. Hamish shakes, blinking back tears of his own. “And with you, Agent Galahad.”

“Agent Galahad!”

There’s no parrot in the room. It’s Martin again, emerging from the parlor holding a sheet of fax paper, radiating alarm.

“Don’t get comfortable. I’m going to need backup. Come with me. Your suit’s on the plane.”

“Merlin, to the control room, quickly. Arthur will meet you there,” Lancelot orders.

There’s only time for a sharp nod each, and Hamish claps Harry’s shoulder. Then the two of them are off down the corridors, scored by the sound of a piped-in radio broadcast.

For those of you just tuning in, the date is Wednesday, twenty-nine July, and what a beautifully clear morning for the wedding of the century…

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pt. IX