a/n: i know the game and fight were like two weeks ago but i couldn’t stop thinking about it lol. just a fun little thing - enjoy! (and literally as i go to post this, bb gets added back to the skills comp as he should’ve been in the first place so go defend your fastest skater title, mat😘)
word count: 4.5k
tw: oral (m recieving), cursing, chicago blackhawks slander, dirty talk
summary: after mat’s fight during the blackhawks game, you’re both worked up with extra energy to get out of your systems
“Fuck you!” You jump to your feet, screaming, adrenaline rushing through your veins. “Go fuck yourself!” Your stomach turns watching Mat fight, but you also can’t ignore the throb between your legs.
Unconcerned with the fact that you’re solidly in enemy territory, your shouting gets louder and louder. Your heart pounds in your chest as you watch Mat scrap with Chicago’s number 43. Mat shifts and drops Blackwell to the ice, the refs and the other players skating over quickly.
“That’s right,” you crow, the people around you starting to boo. “Get fucking wrecked!”
Mat skates off, helmet gone, hair flattened to his head and jersey half off. He scowls and tugs the jersey back over his head and you pump your fists in the air. “That’s my man!” You jump up and down, flipping off a few Chicago fans that are shouting at you.
“Girl,” Alexa, Noah’s girlfriend, tugs at the hem of your vintage Islanders sweatshirt, laughing, “you’re going to get us killed. Sit down!”
You drop back down into your seat and shoot her a grin, “what a way to go out though!” You laugh and take a sip of your beer, turning in your seat when a Chicago fan a few seats down leans over to shout at you.
“Real classy behavior, lady,” he sneers and you flip him off with a bright smile.
“God, where to even start with the classy as hell Chicago Blackhawks organization?” You tap at your lower lip thoughtfully. “Patrick Kane? Jonathan Towes? Corey Perry? So many options to choose from.”
“Gonna bring up shit that doesn’t mean anything?” The man snaps.
You lean halfway out of your seat, getting a little louder, “your team sucks ass from top to bottom.”
“Suck my dick, bitch.”
Alexa coughs into her drink and you shrug at the man, shouting, “at least I’m supporting a team that hasn’t been sued twice for covering up sexual assault.”
“Oh my god,” Alexa mutters, covering her face.
“Fuck off, bitch,” a second man, sitting next to the first, shouts at you.
With a little three fingered wave at the men, you turn back to the ice, settling into your seat. “Oh, I love when men can only think to call me a bitch in the face of actual facts,” you sigh, heartbeat still pounding from Mat’s fight and the confrontation.
A few Chicago fans in the general vicinity are looking at you, booing and flipping you off. You return the gestures happily, with a sarcastic smile on your face.
“You’re batshit insane,” Alexa says, looking impressed and a little awed. “I’m terrified of you.”
You knock her shoulder with yours and tease, “as long as you love me more than you’re terrified of me.”
“Jury’s still out,” she snorts.
The game ends in tragic fashion during overtime, but you’re still so proud of Mat, buzzing with energy to see him when he gets back to the hotel. You and Alexa had booked a room in the same hotel the boys were staying at, spontaneously deciding to take the trip to see the boys play since neither of you had been to Chicago. The team flies back to Long Island tomorrow afternoon and your flight leaves just a few hours later, so you’ve got a few hours with Mat tonight before you have to go back to your own rooms, knowing he’ll have left packing to the last possible second.
Alexa’s lounging on her bed, scrolling through her phone, when there’s a knock on the door. You jump up from your spot on your bed and rush to the door, yanking it open and nearly knocking Noah out of the way in your hurry to jump into Mat’s arms. He laughs and catches you easily, wrapping his arms around your lower back as your legs hook around his waist.
“First career fight?” You grin at him, peppering his face with kisses. “So fucking hot, baby.”
“Y’know,” Noah comments dryly from behind you, “I had assists on two of our goals.”
You turn your head and grin at him, “you want a kiss too?” Mat’s hands grope at your ass, pulling you tighter over the growing bulge in his jeans. You wriggle happily over him, enjoying the low groan that vibrates against your shoulder.
“Not from you,” Noah laughs, dropping a kiss to the top of Alexa’s head. She snuggles up against his side and laughs a little.
“Let’s get out of here,” she says, “before these two forget they’re not alone.” Shooting you a wink, she grabs Noah’s hand and drags him out of the room, the door falling shut behind them.
“Thank god,” Mat huffs, leaning his forehead against your collarbone. You kiss the top of his head, rubbing your fingertips into his scalp. “I’ve been waiting to see you all night.”
“Well you’ve got me for the next few hours, completely uninterrupted,” you reply, holding onto him like a koala. “Let me see your face, I need to make sure no damage was done.”
Mat pulls away from you, grinning that crooked grin you love so much. He looks a little tired, but the only damage from the fight is a cut on the bridge of his nose and a little cut on his forehead. Not nearly as bad as you were thinking. “Do I pass inspection?” He teases, bouncing you a little in his arms.
You hum, “you’ll do,” before kissing the tip of his nose and then slanting your lips over his. Mat deepens the kiss, licking over your lower lip so your mouth will fall open. You groan into his mouth, grinding your hips down over his erection. The kiss is a little frantic, all teeth and tongue, and you’re out of breath when you break apart. “Put me down, I wanna reward you,” you pant, unhooking your legs from around his waist and letting them fall to the floor.
“What?” Mat’s mouth is back on yours, arms still wrapped tightly around your back, your chest pressed to his. You wiggle against him, grinding your hips over his, more than happy to feel him harden under you.
“Wanna - mmmph-“ your words are muffled by Mat’s mouth, captured by his lips and tongue. You pull back with a huge effort, palms flat on his shoulders for leverage. “Wanna suck you off,” you murmur, Mat’s hands trailing up the back of your shirt, his teeth sinking into your bottom lip and tugging at it.
“Yeah?” Mat asks, eyelids heavy over his eyes. He shifts and wedges his leg in between yours, pressing his muscled thigh right up against your throbbing cunt. You whine and your hips move over his leg, the seam of your jeans pressed exactly where you need it. “Wanna suck my dick, baby? What if I wanna watch you get off on my thigh?”
“C’mon, Mat,” your voice comes out breathy, “been wanting to suck you off since you fought. I’ve been soaked thinking about it.” You grind over his thigh as you plead, knowing you’ve won the upper hand when Mat’s fingers dip below the waistband of your jeans to squeeze your ass.
He sucks a mark into the skin behind your ear and you sigh. “Me fighting got you all hot and bothered?” He asks the question against your skin, brushing his nose against your earlobe and you nod.
“Beyond fucking hot, Mat,” you scratch your nails against the nape of his neck. “Glad I got to see it.”
You wiggle again and a little whine forms in the back of your throat. Mat’s mouth curls into a smile against your neck. “Love it when you beg,” he says, a little hoarse. “My girl is begging to suck my cock, what’s fucking better than that?”
“Actually letting me suck your cock,” you gasp, Mat’s fingers digging harder into the flesh of your ass. “Let me, Mat, c’mon.”
He finally shifts his leg, planting his feet solidly, and you grin, breaking from his grip and falling to your knees in front of him. You’re eye level with the bulge behind the fly of his jeans and you grin up at him wickedly. You run your fingertips lightly over his zipper and feel his cock throbbing through the denim. “Can’t wait to get my mouth on you,” you smirk, fingers working at the button and zipper, pushing at the denim until you can trace your index finger over the imprint of his dick through the fabric of his briefs.
“Fuck!” Mat’s hips buck forward and he grabs at your hair with one hand, tangling his fingers in the strands. His cock twitches behind the fabric and you push his jeans and briefs halfway down his thighs, freeing his cock so it bobs up towards his stomach. You lean up on your knees to press a kiss to the head of his cock and Mat groans, grip on your hair tightening. “Baby, babe, please, don’t tease me,” he babbles, hips thrusting minutely.
“It’s a reward,” you grin up at him, wrapping your hand around the base of his cock and squeezing slightly, “for fighting. Going to take my time with you.”
Your hand strokes him slowly, palm rubbing against his tip, gathering pre-cum and smearing it down his shaft. His cock throbs in your hand, in time with the way your clit throbs as you touch him. You shift on your knees, pressing the heel of your foot in between your legs and Mat doesn’t miss the movement.
“Going to get off just by touching my dick?” He teases, widening his stance and leaning his upper back against the wall. You hum, focused on getting him fully hard. It doesn’t take much work and within seconds, he’s like hot steel in your hand.
“We’ll just have to see,” you murmur, leaning in and taking the head of his cock into your mouth. A strangled moan leaves Mat’s lips and his hips start to thrust, forcing you to press both of your hands against his hips to keep him in place. You hum around him and swirl your tongue over his slit, enjoying the way he’s babbling your name over your head. He groans, the noise choking off as you take him deeper into your mouth, keeping your lips wrapped tightly around him.
Your nails rake over his skin, fingers sliding over the ridge of bone and then the smooth skin of his lower stomach, until you’re able to rub your fingertips through the light trail of hair under his belly button. You wrap one hand around the base of his cock and take him deeper, swallowing and enjoying the way Mat’s cock bobs in your mouth.
��Baby, come on,” Mat mumbles, “gotta go deeper. Let me fuck your throat. Wanna feel you swallow me.”
You look up at him with wide eyes, tears hovering at your waterline from the stretch of your jaw, and blink innocently at him. Your throat relaxes and he grins, looking a little dazed, when he realizes you’re giving him permission. His other hand comes up to cradle your face, releasing your hair with the other hand so he can hold your face in place while he thrusts his hips forward, sliding his cock deeper down your throat with each movement. The head of his cock bumps against the roof of your mouth, the back of your throat, slides against your tongue with his erratic thrusts.
Saliva drips down your chin, tears rolling down your cheeks. Mascara streaks down your face, stinging your eyes a little.
Mat’s head is dropped back as he rolls his hips, his mouth running constantly. You’re not even sure what he’s saying at this point, too focused on keeping your throat relaxed and not gagging around his thick length. Your hands grip at his ass, nails digging into his skin and he hisses, practically whining when you swallow and your throat tightens around his cock.
“Fuck, fuck. Jesus Christ, fuck me,” he groans. “Love how you look with my dick in your mouth, look so pretty.”
You moan around him, lifting up a little on your knees and leaning in, deep throating him until your nose is pressed against his skin, your chin tucked up against his balls. His scent - a little bit soapy, a little bit sweaty - invades your senses and you feel your panties dampen further. You shake your head a little, brushing the tip of your nose against his skin and Mat’s fingers tighten on your face, thumbs rubbing over your cheekbones.
“Gonna come, baby, gotta -“ he mutters, choking off. He leans his hips back a little, trying to pull out of your mouth, but you hold onto his ass, pulling him closer to your face. Mat grunts, his balls tightening under your chin before he comes down your throat, hot and thick.
You swallow for what feels like forever, Mat’s cock still thick and hard in your mouth. He finally pulls back and you drop down to sit on your heels, wiping at your mouth. Saliva and cum make your chin and hands sticky, but you grin cheekily up at your boyfriend. He looks wrecked, jaw slack and eyes nearly closed.
“Didn’t manage to come just from sucking you off,” you rasp, throat sore and voice hoarse. You reach up to gently stroke over his cock and he leans his hips forward, pushing into your grip.
“Bet that sweet pussy of yours is soaked for me, huh?” Mat says, reaching out to wrap his hands around your biceps and haul you to your feel, your hand falling away from his cock. With his grip on your arms, Mat crushes you to his chest, kissing you sloppily. His cock presses against your stomach, half-hard, and you press against it, making Mat groan into your mouth before he sucks on your tongue.
You hum against his mouth, melting against Mat’s chest. Your clit throbs and you clench around nothing, desperate for a little friction. “Mat,” you gasp his name a little and he knows exactly what you want. His hands slide up your arms and wrap gently around your neck and the back of your head, keeping your face close to his so he can kiss you while walking you backwards to the bed.
“Gonna fuck you so good, baby,” he murmurs into your mouth. You can feel his body vibrating with adrenaline and once the backs of your knees hit the mattress, Mat pulls back to quickly get rid of his clothes, kicking the fabric in all different directions with a a hungry look in his eyes that makes you giggle. Mat grins down at you and leans over your body, pressing his bare chest against your clothed one. “Regular post-game energy has nothing on post-fight energy,” he promises, nipping at your pulse point.
You instinctively wrap your legs around his waist and roll your hips, pressing your cunt against his cock. “I can’t wait to find out,” you murmur, arching your back when his hands slide up your shirt to grope at your tits.
Just about an hour later, you roll off of Mat’s chest, sweating and panting like you’ve just run a marathon. “Fuck,” you breathe, thighs sticky and trembling.
Mat turns his head and gives you a lazy smirk, “told you.”
You kick a little at his ankle, shifting and shaking your head at the way your core is clenching around nothing, the feeling of Mat’s cock stuffed inside of you still present. “You need to get into fights more often,” you mumble, watching him wince as he pulls the used condom off of his dick. He twists a knot into the latex and rolls off the other side of the bed to pad into the bathroom. You blatantly stare at his ass, wolf-whistling when he bends slightly to toss the condom.
“I’m feeling very objectified,” Mat teases you, standing in the doorway with his hands on his hips. He tries to keep a straight face, but can’t help his lips from turning up at the corners. You drag your gaze over his body, from the top of his head, over his bare chest complete with chain resting against his collarbone, down to his dick hanging between his legs, and back up.
“Mmm,” you hum, still flat on your back, still shaking slightly. “It’s not my fault you’re so objectifiable. Maybe if you were uglier…”
You trail off into a shriek, body jostling when Mat pounces on the bed, covering your body with his and planting sloppy, wet kisses on every inch of your skin he can reach. “Nooo, stop! Oh my god, you know I’m ticklish,” you shriek-giggle, pushing at Mat’s shoulders, trying to wiggle out from under him. He keeps you caged in with his arms and legs, laughing.
“Gonna keep objectifying me, Squeaks?” He asks, marking you up with hickies across your neck and chest.
“Yessss,” you laugh, pressing your chest into his face. “It’s my favorite hobby.” You hook your leg around his hip and dig your heel into the muscle of his ass, getting him to thrust his pelvis forward, bumping against your clit. A spark of pleasure lights up your nerves.
“Cool,” he laughs, flicking his tongue over your nipple. “You can keep doing it after we get some food, I’m starving.” He bites at the underside of your breast and rolls off of you again, leaving you cold in the middle of the bed.
“What?” You sit up, watching him reach for his pants and dig his phone out of the pocket.
“We had like one slice of shitty Chicago pizza after the game,” Mat explains. “And then we rolled around in bed for an hour. I’m starving, babe.”
You’re about to complain, but as soon as you open your mouth, your stomach growls and Mat smirks at you. You huff, “okay, yeah. Let’s order some dinner.”
He turns back to his phone, tapping away at UberEats, and you flop back against the pillows, grabbing for your own phone where it rests on the bedside table. Once you’re settled, you rest your feet in Mat’s lap, his left hand landing on your ankle and thumb tracing an arc over your instep. You wiggle your toes and he pinches lightly at your skin. “What do you want?”
“Mozzarella sticks,” you say absently, gaze flickering onto your lock screen. It’s covered in notifications - the girls’ group chat, Twitter, Instagram, TikTok. What the hell is going on?
Another message comes in from Sydney, making your phone vibrate in your hand. Since you don’t have a password on your phone, you can see her message on the screen: she’s going to be banned from the arena 😂
Who’s going to be banned from the arena?
You tap open the group chat and scroll back to the top where the messages started half an hour ago. Holly sent a Twitter link followed by: our girl! 😂
A sinking feeling forms in your stomach, but you tap on the link, unsurprised when it opens up to a video. A video of you, just a few hours earlier, yelling at the game.
“Oh man,” you groan, watching yourself - filmed from an unflattering angle, of course - jumping and cheering for Mat, before turning and snapping at the Blackhawks fan.
“No mozzarella sticks?” Mat asks, mistaking what you had said as directed at him. He’s still scrolling through UberEats.
“No, um, yes,” you shake your head, looking up. “I do still want mozzarella sticks, but…”
You tap on the hashtag and start scrolling through Tweets, even as texts from the girls continue to roll in. The video is everywhere - Spittin’ Chiclets, B/R Open Ice, Barstool Sports. Fuck, even Frankie’s retweeted it, adding his typical all-caps word vomit captions: GOTTA GO THROUGH THE ISLAND OUR FANS ARE GREATER THAN ANYONE ELSE ANS READY TO GIVE YOU A VERBAL BITCH SLAP LOVE YOU LADY B
You roll your eyes at his caption, pulling the notification screen down and checking to see if he texted you too. He did - a string of cry-laughing emojis and clapping emojis.
“But what?” Mat finally drops his phone to the mattress and leans back on an elbow to look at you. “What are you looking at?”
You squint at him. “Have you not gotten any texts or notifications?” You ask, surprised that the guys’ group chat isn’t blowing up.
“Probably,” Mat shrugs, “my phone’s been on do not disturb since before my nap this afternoon. I wasn’t really thinking about looking. Why?”
You flip your phone around, showing him the screen. Mat squints at it, watching the video play for a few seconds before he lets out a chuckle of disbelief. “Is that you, Squeaks?”
“Yep,” you groan, pinching the bridge of your nose. “I, um, got a little heated when you fought. Is Lou going to kill me?”
Mat’s got your phone in his hand now, scrolling through the Tweets and laughing. “No way, you don’t work for him. I don’t think he knows what Twitter is anyway.” He keeps scrolling. “Oh shit!”
“What?” You lunge forward and snatch at your phone. Mat pulls it back and clicks his tongue at you.
“Jeez, you gonna yell at me now too?” He jokes before reading the caption of a Tweet. “Listen to this ‘trashy Long Island fan berates Blackhawks fan.’ Babe, you freaked on the wrong fanbase.”
“I’m trashy?” You yelp indignantly. “Me? They’re the fans that are supporting an organization FULL of sexual abusers! Give me my phone, I want to defend myself.”
“No way!” Mat holds your phone in the air away from you. “Why expose yourself to more shit?”
“Because I’m not the one in the wrong here,” you grumble. “What are the guys saying? Does anyone know who I am? I mean, I wasn’t quiet about cheering for you.”
With your phone still in his hand, Mat picks up his own and taps over to the messages. “Oh, damn. Almost fifty texts from the guys.” He chuckles as he scrolls through them, reading you off the best ones. “Bo says to suit up for next game, we could use your passion. Dobber says two minutes in the box for unsportsmanlike conduct. Ah, nice, Frankie says pizzas are on him next time we’re at Borrelli’s.”
“Pizzas are always on Frankie,” you grumble, draping yourself over Mat’s back to read his phone screen over his shoulder. The guys are mostly sending more videos from different angles and chirping you. While Mat’s distracted by the group chat, you snatch your phone back, returning to Twitter where the fans have figured out your connection to Mat - it’s not like your relationship is a secret, your Twitter is public and your Instagram switches back and forth between public and private when you’re starting to feel overwhelmed - but you don’t love that you’re getting this kind of attention.
You really should’ve controlled yourself better. But you didn’t and now you’re scrolling through hundreds of Tweets that are calling you Long Island trash. There are others mixed in that are supporting you, cheering you on for being a loyal fan and girlfriend, but jeez. The Chicago fans really are kind of nasty.
“Stop looking at that,” Mat plucks the phone from your hands when he sees your forehead crease and wrinkle over your nose. “Are we gonna have to delete your account like Dobber?”
“No,” you huff, chest flushing with emotion. “I just…I should’ve been a little more controlled, but I got so worked up!”
Mat cups your cheek and grins at you, “I like when you’re worked up. It’ll blow over in a few days, but for now, it’s really fucking cool that my girlfriend is so passionate about me fighting.”
You wrinkle your nose up at him and he laughs again, “seriously, don’t worry about it.” He frowns a little. “Fans’ll be talking about our game again by tomorrow. We’re fucking it all up.”
Pressing your cheek against Mat’s shoulder blade, you wrap your arms around his waist. “I’m sorry, Mat. I know you guys are working so hard, things will turn around soon, I’m sure.” You press a kiss to his skin, blowing a little raspberry. “Want your trashy Long Island girlfriend to give you another blowjob?”
That draws a laugh from Mat, exactly what you wanted to do, and he reaches back to rub his fingers over your scalp, massaging gently. He waves his phone in the air, “think you can do it before dinner gets here?”
A challenge.
You grin against his back, hands sliding down his stomach to wrap around the base of his cock. He jolts in your grip, stomach muscles bunching. “Place the order and we’ll see,” you mumble against his back, kissing and biting at his shoulder. His arm moves and you can see over his shoulder that he’s pressing the order button.
“Time starts now,” Mat teases, leaning back against you and giving you more access for your hands to stroke him.
You just barely manage to bring Mat to his finish before his phone chimes with the delivery notification, but it’s intensely satisfying to watch him yank on the hotel robe and slippers with his face and chest all flushed before he runs down to the lobby. You take the time that he’s gone to clean yourself up, showering quickly before getting into your lounge pants. By the time you eat and hang out for a bit, Mat’s going to have to go back to his own room, so you’re trying to curb the temptation to go another round.
Your phone is still going crazy with notifications and when you open Instagram, you notice that Mat’s shared a story. Immediately suspicious, you tap on his little circle, groaning when you see the video of you shouting. He must’ve shared it while he was in the elevator, the fucking menace.
Underneath the reshared video, Mat added his own comment: my favorite trashy long islander 👊🏻💪🏻😂
You swipe up and tap out a reply: i hate you
“Love you too, Oscar,” Mat’s voice echoes through the room. You look up and there he is, carrying the bag of takeout.
“Oscar?”
“Like the Grouch? You know, because he lives in a trash can,” Mat’s grin is shit-eating, “and you’re trashy.”
You fling a pillow at him and he ducks, cracking up. “I’m sorry!” He chokes out, not sorry at all. “But it’s hilarious. Video gets funnier the more you watch and some of those people on Twitter really are quick with the comments.”
“I’m never coming to another game again, Mathew,” you inform him, faux-snootily. He hands you over the foil tin of mozzarella sticks.
“Yeah you are,” he presses a kiss to your temple. “You’d never forgive yourself if you missed me fight again.” He wiggles his eyebrows and takes a bite out of one of your mozzarella sticks.
He’s right and he knows it.
“I’m going to have to private my insta again,” you comment on a sigh, looking down at the notifications piling up.
“You’re gonna be old news in a day or two,” Mat replies. “Something else will happen at a different game and hockey twitter will move on.”
By the time you land in New York the next afternoon, Mat’s right. You’re old news because the team’s fired Lane and hired Patrick Roy as their new coach.
300 notes
·
View notes
୧⸽⁶፧ #𝐆𝐎𝐃𝐃𝐄𝐒𝐒𝐃𝐈𝐀𝐍𝐀
“I know not everything can be perfect.
But I have to believe that it can be.”
❛ ◜𝒊. 𝐛 𝐚 𝐬 𝐢 𝐜 𝐬
𝐧𝐨𝐦𝐛𝐫𝐞: Diana Meade.
𝐞𝐝𝐚𝐝: 27 años.
𝐞𝐬𝐩𝐞𝐜𝐢𝐞: Bruja.
𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐭𝐮𝐬: Soltera.ㅤ
𝐟𝐞𝐜𝐡𝐚 𝐝𝐞 𝐧𝐚𝐜𝐢𝐦𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐨: 02 de Enero, 1995. ㅤ
𝐬𝐢𝐠𝐧𝐨 𝐳𝐨𝐝𝐢𝐚𝐜𝐚𝐥: Capricornio.
𝐟𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐨𝐦: The Secret Circle (canon).
❛ ◜𝒊𝒊. 𝒔𝒑𝒆𝒄𝒊𝒇𝒊𝒄𝒔
𝐨𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐚𝐜𝐢𝐨́𝐧 𝐬𝐞𝐱𝐮𝐚𝐥: Heterosexual.
𝐟𝐚𝐜𝐞𝐜𝐥𝐚𝐢𝐦: Shelley Hennig.
𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐢𝐚: Chance Harbor, Washington.
❛ ◜𝒊𝒊𝒊. 𝒑𝒉𝒚𝒔𝒊𝒄𝒂𝒍
𝐚𝐥𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐚: 1.73 mts.ㅤ
𝐜𝐨𝐥𝐨𝐫 𝐝𝐞 𝐜𝐚𝐛𝐞𝐥𝐥𝐨: Castaño Oscuro.
𝐜𝐨𝐥𝐨𝐫 𝐝��� 𝐨𝐣𝐨𝐬: Cafés. ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ
❛ ◜ 𝒊𝒗. 𝒄𝒐𝒏𝒏𝒆𝒄𝒕𝒊𝒐𝒏𝒔
❬ 𝗕 𝗜 𝗢 𝗟 𝗢 𝗚 𝗜 𝗖 𝗔 𝗦 ⦂
ㅤ ㅤㅤ 𝐊𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐌𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞 › Abuela paterna.
ㅤ ㅤㅤㅤ ㅤㅤ⤷ cuenta/libre
ㅤ ㅤㅤ 𝐒𝐚𝐦𝐮𝐞𝐥 𝐁𝐥𝐚𝐜𝐤𝐰𝐞𝐥𝐥 † › Abuelo paterno.
ㅤ ㅤㅤㅤ ㅤㅤ⤷ cuenta/libre
ㅤ ㅤㅤ 𝐄𝐥𝐢𝐳𝐚𝐛𝐞𝐭𝐡 𝐌𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞 † › Madre.
ㅤ ㅤㅤㅤ ㅤㅤ⤷ cuenta/libre
ㅤ ㅤㅤ 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐥𝐞𝐬 𝐌𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞 › Padre Adoptivo.
ㅤ ㅤㅤㅤ ㅤㅤ⤷ cuenta/libre
ㅤ ㅤㅤ 𝐉𝐨𝐡𝐧 𝐁𝐥𝐚𝐜𝐤𝐰𝐞𝐥𝐥 † › Padre Biológico.
ㅤ ㅤㅤㅤ ㅤㅤ⤷ cuenta/libre
ㅤ ㅤㅤ 𝐂𝐚𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐞 𝐁𝐥𝐚𝐤𝐞 › Media hermana / Círculo de Chance Harbor.ㅤ ㅤㅤㅤ ㅤㅤ ⤷ Celaena
ㅤ ㅤㅤ 𝐅𝐚𝐲𝐞 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐦𝐛𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐚𝐢𝐧 › Prima materna / Círculo de Chance Harbor.ㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤ ⤷ cuenta/libre
ㅤ ㅤㅤ𝐆𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐭 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐦𝐛𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐚𝐢𝐧 › Tío materno.
ㅤ ㅤㅤㅤ ㅤㅤ⤷ cuenta/libreㅤㅤ
❬ 𝗦 𝗢 𝗖 𝗜 𝗔 𝗟 𝗘 𝗦 ⦂
ㅤ ㅤㅤ ⤥ ⌠ 𝐀𝐝𝐚𝐦 𝐂𝐨𝐧𝐚𝐧𝐭 · › Círculo de Chance Harbor.
⤷ cuenta/libre
ㅤ ㅤㅤ ⤥ ⌠ 𝐌𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐬𝐚 𝐆𝐥𝐚𝐬𝐞𝐫 · › Círculo de Chance Harbor.
⤷ cuenta/libre
ㅤ ㅤㅤ ⤥ ⌠ 𝐉𝐚𝐤𝐞 𝐀𝐫𝐦𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐨𝐧𝐠 · › Círculo de Chance Harbor.
⤷ cuenta/libreㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤ ㅤㅤ
ㅤ ㅤㅤ ⤥ ⌠ 𝐀𝐝𝐚𝐦 𝐂𝐨𝐧𝐚𝐧𝐭 · › Círculo de Chance Harbor.
⤷ cuenta/libreㅤ ㅤㅤㅤ ㅤ ㅤㅤ
ㅤ ㅤㅤ ⤥ ⌠ 𝐍𝐢𝐜𝐤 𝐀𝐫𝐦𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐨𝐧𝐠 · › Círculo de Chance Harbor.
⤷ cuenta/libre
ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ ⠀
❛ ◜𝒗. 𝗯𝗶𝗼𝗴𝗿𝗮𝗽𝗵𝘆
ㅤㅤ𝐢. Es la hija del difunto John Blackwell y la difunta Elizabeth Meade. Aunque su madre se casó con Charles Meade, Diana es el fruto de un romance prohibido entre su madre y John Blackwell. Este amorío ocurrió durante un tiempo en que John Blackwell y la madre de Cassie, la mejor amiga de Diana, estaban distanciados. Por tanto, Charles Meade ha sido su padre adoptivo y la única figura paterna en su vida.
ㅤㅤ
ㅤㅤ 𝐢𝐢. Su madre murió cuando Diana era un bebé, lo que la ha llevado a ser extremadamente cautelosa con el uso de la magia. Está determinada a no repetir los errores que el Círculo anterior cometió, buscando siempre proteger a sus seres queridos y a sí misma.
ㅤㅤ
ㅤㅤ 𝐢𝐢𝐢. En una ocasión, Diana descubre que Faye está molestando cruelmente a Cassie en el antiguo edificio de ciencias. Actuando con rapidez y compasión, Diana salva a Cassie de las travesuras de Faye, Deborah y Suzan. Lleva a Cassie a su casa, la introduce a su círculo de amigos y rápidamente se convierte en una figura protectora y hermana sustituta para ella, sin saber que su conexión va más allá de la amistad, ya que comparten la misma sangre paterna.
ㅤㅤ 𝐢𝐯. Cuando Cassie empieza a mostrar interés en unirse al Club de Brujas, Diana inicialmente le dice que no desea ser parte de él debido a sus propios planes de regresar a California. Sin embargo, tras encontrar el cuerpo de Kori, Diana y el resto del aquelarre deciden permitir que Cassie ocupe el lugar de Kori en el Círculo.
ㅤㅤ 𝐯. Diana y su grupo de amigos, que incluyen a Adam, Cassie, Faye, Melissa y Nick (posteriormente Jake tras la muerte de Nick), no son adolescentes comunes. Ellos forman un círculo de brujas conocido como El Círculo Secreto, un poderoso aquelarre que consta de al menos doce brujas.
ㅤㅤ 𝐯𝐢. Una noche, el aquelarre secuestra a Cassie de su habitación y la lleva a la playa para iniciarla en el grupo. Diana lee el encantamiento durante la prueba de Cassie, quien pasa y se une al aquelarre, aunque la ceremonia es interrumpida por Deborah. Poco después, Adam regresa de Cape Cod y se reúne con Diana y el grupo.
ㅤㅤ
ㅤㅤ 𝐯𝐢𝐢. Diana fue la novia de Adam Conant durante mucho tiempo, pero cuando descubre que Cassie y Adam son almas gemelas, decide terminar su relación para permitir que él esté con Cassie, otorgándoles su bendición. Esta muestra de altruismo subraya su carácter noble y su capacidad para anteponer el bienestar de los demás a sus propios deseos.
ㅤㅤ
ㅤㅤ𝐯𝐢𝐢𝐢. Actualmente, Diana vive con la constante preocupación de protegerse de los cazadores de brujas, intentando llevar una vida "normal" y pasar desapercibida en un mundo lleno de magia. La lucha por el liderazgo dentro del Círculo se hace evidente, especialmente cuando Cassie también aspira a este puesto, lo que añade una dinámica tensa a su relación.
❛ ◜𝒗𝒊. 𝗮𝗱𝗱𝗶𝘁𝗶𝗼𝗻𝗮𝗹
𝒊. 𝗽𝗲𝗿𝘀𝗼𝗻𝗮𝗹𝗶𝘁𝘆
Probablemente la persona más amable del círculo, Diana es extremadamente cariñosa, leal, protectora y tiene un fuerte sentido de lo que es moralmente correcto y justo. A menudo piensa en los demás más que en sí misma, lo que la convierte en un contraste con la egoísta e imprudente Faye, y ayuda a castigar a los demás miembros del círculo.
Encabeza el círculo con inteligencia, los pies bien puestos en la tierra y una gran iniciativa, velando por lo mejor para todos. Al descubrir que ella y Cassie son medias hermanas, se confunde con la magia por un corto tiempo.
Realmente ama a Cassie, pero no está segura de cómo se siente al enterarse de que Cassie es su hermana y que John Blackwell es su padre biológico. Es en parte debido a esto, y al hecho de que ella no confía totalmente en Blackwell, que se niega a usar la magia negra, creyendo que hay formas más pacíficas de hacer las cosas.
𝒊𝒊. 𝗮𝗽𝗽𝗲𝗮𝗿𝗮𝗻𝗰𝗲
Diana Meade es una joven de una belleza notable y una presencia que impone respeto. Posee una salud envidiable que se refleja en su apariencia física. Su cabello largo y sedoso es de un rico color chocolate, cayendo en suaves ondas hasta la mitad de su espalda, lo que resalta su elegancia natural. Sus ojos, del mismo color profundo, son grandes y expresivos, reflejando su inteligencia y sensibilidad.
Es alta, con una estatura de 5'8" (1.73 metros), lo que le otorga una figura esbelta y estilizada. Sus largas piernas le dan una gracia natural en sus movimientos, y su delgadez está marcada por una musculatura tonificada y una postura siempre erguida, que denota confianza y autoridad.
Su piel está ligeramente bronceada, dando la impresión de una saludable vitalidad y un tiempo considerable pasado al aire libre. Las mejillas de Diana siempre tienen un toque sonrosado, que añade a su rostro un aire juvenil y fresco. Su tez es clara y suave, sin imperfecciones visibles, lo que acentúa aún más su apariencia casi etérea.
Suele vestir con un estilo que combina la simplicidad con la elegancia. Prefiere prendas que acentúan su figura sin ser demasiado ostentosas, optando por colores que complementan su tono de piel y cabello. Su guardarropa incluye desde vestidos fluidos y femeninos hasta atuendos más casuales, siempre manteniendo una apariencia pulcra y bien cuidada.
Su belleza natural es acentuada por su sonrisa cálida y sincera, que tiene el poder de poner a cualquiera a su alrededor a gusto. Sin necesidad de maquillaje excesivo, Diana destaca por su autenticidad y el brillo genuino de su personalidad, haciendo que su apariencia sea solo una extensión de su carisma y bondad innata.
𝒊𝒊𝒊. 𝗽𝗼𝘄𝗲𝗿𝘀
Diana fue la primera en el círculo en descubrir sus poderes y encontrar su Libro de las Sombras. Ella fue quien inició el círculo en el estilo de vida Wicca.
Ella también tiene magia oscura ya que su padre es John Blackwell. Sin embargo, a diferencia de Cassie, no pudo usar su magia oscura incluso después de enterarse de que la tenía porque necesitaba una experiencia cercana a la muerte para que se activara y la salvara. Eso sucedió cuando Cassie trató de matarla para poder liberarse de la barrera del polvo de colocasia.
Posteriormente, declaró que no quiere usar sus poderes oscuros porque “odia la forma en que la hace sentir”. Diana tiene una fuerte capacidad de liderazgo.
Aunque técnicamente se supone que Cassie es la líder, ella es la líder del círculo. Diana es también la segunda bruja más poderosa de su círculo; debido a su línea de sangre Blackwell.
𝒊𝒗. 𝘄𝗲𝗮𝗸𝗻𝗲𝘀𝘀𝗲𝘀
Lo que siempre la ha hecho ser débil ante cualquier situación de emergencia es el miedo de sufrir por la pérdida de sus seres queridos, lo que hace que se desconcentre y no sea capaz de usar sus poderes a tiempo ni mucho menos nivelar la intensidad de su ataque.
A pesar de ser un ser sobrenatural, su especie sigue siendo humana y comparten muchas de las mismas debilidades que los seres no sobrenaturales (por ejemplo, la edad, la decapitación, la enfermedad, la insuficiencia cardíaca, asfixia, etc).
❛ ◜𝒗𝒊𝒊 . 𝐜𝐮𝐫𝐢𝐨𝐬𝐢𝐝𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐬
• Diana, como líder, es el miembro más reservado y calculador del Círculo. Su elemento es la Tierra, que simboliza estabilidad y conexión, reflejando su naturaleza sensata y centrada.
• El significado de Diana es “divina”.
• El nombre también se relaciona con la antigua diosa romana de la luna, que es patrona de la virginidad y la caza. Más tarde, se identifica con la Artemisa griega y diosas orientales como Diana de Éfeso. El nombre proviene de Diviana, de la raíz PIE dyeu, que significa "brillar".
• Su apellido, Meade, significa un tipo de bebida Skandanavian, similar a la cerveza o al vino, que se elaboraba con miel.
• Debido a su elemento Tierra, Diana tiene una afinidad especial con la naturaleza. A menudo encuentra paz y consuelo en entornos naturales, como bosques y jardines, y le gusta pasar tiempo al aire libre.
• La piedra de nacimiento de Diana es el esmeralda, una gema que simboliza renovación y crecimiento, atributos que reflejan su personalidad y su papel dentro del Círculo.
• Diana lleva consigo un amuleto especial, un pequeño colgante de cuarzo verde que le ayuda a canalizar sus poderes y mantener la conexión con su elemento.
• Además de su magia elemental, Diana tiene una habilidad innata para la sanación, tanto física como emocional. Es conocida por su capacidad para calmar y reconfortar a los demás, usando tanto su magia como su empatía natural.
• En su tiempo libre, Diana disfruta de actividades como la jardinería y la lectura de libros antiguos sobre herbolaria y botánica. También le gusta tocar el piano, un talento que ha desarrollado desde niña.
❛ ◜𝒗𝒊𝒊𝒊 . 𝒂𝒃𝒐𝒖𝒕
*Nota del autor: Esta biografía está simplificada y los eventos a medida que se vaya relatando se irá editando.
ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ⠀⠀⠀
❬ 𝙘𝙧𝙚́𝙙𝙞𝙩𝙤𝙨 ;
ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ ㅤㅤ⠀ ╰ 𝐭𝐞𝐦𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐞: Devianart.
ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ╰ 𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐦𝐚𝐭𝐨 ; 𝒘𝒊𝒕𝒄𝒉𝒚 𝒉𝒆𝒍𝒑.
4 notes
·
View notes