The Cocky and the Cruel: "Pretty Boy" Blake vs Esma Martin

[Weonna]

[Backstage - L.A.W. Arena - Early Evening]


The hallway lights flickered softly above the polished concrete floor as wrestlers, crew, and staff moved about in preparation for the next taping. Amid the chaos, one man stood out like a lion among housecats.

Blake.

Spoiler

Shades on, a smug smirk glued to his face, and his sleeveless hoodie unzipped just enough to show off his carved physique, Blake strutted down the hallway like he owned the place. His boots echoed with confidence and swagger as he muttered to himself.

“They said she’s here. New face. Big attitude. Strong body. Gonna be fun…”

He glanced left and right at passing production staff, lifting his chin as if daring someone to stop him. No one did.

He stopped in front of a door labeled

“Locker Room 7B.”

A sly grin tugged at his lips as he leaned in slightly, knocking with the back of his knuckles.

“Yo... you in there, sweetheart? Name’s Blake. Your lucky day just showed up.”

No answer. His grin only widened.

“Alright then…”

He casually opened the door and leaned his broad shoulder against the frame, taking a slow, appreciative look inside if she was there.

“They told me I got a match with a new girl… figured I’d come say hi. Size you up. Maybe see if you’re as dangerous as they say—or if you're just another highlight reel waiting to happen.”

His voice dripped with arrogance, but his eyes scanned the room with clear interest. If his opponent was there, he was ready to flirt, tease, and get under her skin from the moment they met.

[Dwrites]

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Esma has not been having the best of days.First she had to get on a non-stop flight from France to Japan filled with alleged “Adults” who acted like they were in Kindergarten, Then her luggage somehow got misplaced forcing her to spend a HOUR tracking it down, and then just to make sure she suffered the taxi she took to LAW arena got stuck in traffic. When she finally got into the LAW arena she was at her wits end and ready to kill someone. Luckily she had a match where she could take all that frustration out on her future victim but first she needed to get to her locker room so she could get out of her dress and into her wrestling outfit. “5B…6B….ahh there it is 7B” she said to herself as she found her dressing room…and the guy looking into it.Pinching and the bridge of her nose and sighing “of course there would be a locker room mix up” before marching over to the man, shoving him out of the way and saying “Excuse me but this is my locker room” while glaring at him.

[Weonna]

Blake didn’t even flinch as the door opened behind him, but the second he felt a shove to his side, he stumbled playfully with a low chuckle, his grin returning even sharper. The woman behind the push was clearly not in the mood—but that only made this more entertaining.

He turned to face her, and the second his eyes met Esma Martin’s, he let out a soft whistle.

"Damn. I thought they were hyping you up just to sell the match, but now I see they undersold it…”


He brushed off his shoulder like her shove had left some stardust.

“That attitude, that glare, and that dress? Looks like I knocked on the right door after all.”

He tilted his head slightly, clearly enjoying the fire in her eyes—even if it was aimed straight at him.

“I was just coming by to introduce myself. Name’s Blake. You know, your very lucky opponent. I figured we could… get to know each other a little before I slam you face-first into the mat.”

His voice was smooth, teasing, dripping with the same cockiness he carried into every ring. And yet, he stood his ground with a charming boldness, as if daring her to match his heat.

“Unless you’re already trying to throw hands. In that case…”

He slowly spread his arms out, giving her a full view of his confident, open stance.

“You can undress me with your eyes first—seems only fair since I caught you in that dress.”

His smirk widened just slightly as he leaned against the doorframe again, watching her every reaction like it was part of a game.

"You gonna invite me in… or are we saving the fun for later?”

[Dwrites]

When Esma pushed him she expected a quick apology and exit. What she got instead was apparently her next opponent wanting to meet her before she caved their face in.As he finished his spill Esma closed her eyes and sighed as she contemplated her next words. Opening her eyes she walked up to him putting a finger on his bicep before saying “Listen you cocky Le petit garçon(little boy in french) nothing would satisfy me more right now than painting the walls with your blood but lets “save the fun for later” where my dominance will be on full display for everyone to see.NOW GET OUT OF MY LOCKER ROOM!”

[Weonna]

Blake blinked as the words “le petit garçon” rolled off her tongue like venom—exotic, sharp, and absolutely not something he understood.

“Wait, hold up… did you just cast a spell on me or insult me?”

he quipped, lifting both brows.

“I’m American, sweetheart. French to me is whatever’s printed on a wine bottle.”

As Esma pressed her finger against his bicep and delivered her fiery monologue, Blake didn’t budge. His grin only grew wider—like a man watching a thunderstorm and loving every second of it.

“Man… I love it when they get all bossy,” he muttered with a smirk, half to himself.

“You know, most girls flirt with eye contact and hair twirls. You? You come out swinging with death threats and international slang. Kinda hot.”

He leaned in ever so slightly, lowering his voice in that teasing, deliberately infuriating tone.

“You sure we’re not already on our honeymoon? Feels like we skipped straight to the part where you yell at me in lingerie.”

Backing off finally, he raised his hands in mock surrender, walking away slowly but confidently—still facing her as he stepped back.

“Alright, alright—I’m going. Just know you’re not getting rid of me that easily. You and me? We’re gonna make magic out there. You’ll scream. I’ll smile. The crowd’ll love it.”

And with a cheeky salute and one last smirk, Blake turned and strutted down the hall, calling back without even looking:

“Oh—and bring subtitles next time, Madame Violence! I wanna make sure I catch every insult!”

[Dwrites]

As Blake left Esma resisted the urge to roll her eyes. He wasn’t the first and certainly wouldn’t be the last to underestimated her because of her beauty and think she was a jobber that got by on her looks.Well she showed them before and she’ll show them again she is a threat to be taken seriously. “Well someone will definitely be screaming little blake” she chuckled to herself “but it won’t be me” with that she close and locked the door before starting a shower.She need to look her best for her debut victory.

[Weonna]

[L.A.W. Arena – Match Time]

The lights dimmed. The crowd buzzed in anticipation. Then—
"THE CHAMP IS HERE!"

Spoiler

Jadakiss’s booming voice hit the speakers as the beat dropped, and the arena exploded in jeers and scattered cheers.

Blake had arrived.

Blake's enterance gear

Stepping through the curtain with all the swagger of a man who believed the ring belonged to him, Blake stood atop the ramp, arms spread wide, soaking in the crowd’s boo's like it was fuel for his ego. His sleeveless hoodie was unzipped, revealing his chiseled torso while his golden sunglasses glimmered in the arena lights.

He walked down the ramp with slow, confident steps—smirking at fans, flexing briefly for the cameras, and even pointing at a sign that read “Esma’s Gonna Wreck You!” only to shake his head and mouth,

“In her dreams.”

Sliding into the ring, Blake stood tall in the center and raised one finger in the air.

“You're lookin’ at the future winner, baby!”

He dropped to one knee and flexed dramatically, mocking the idea of “paying respect” with an arrogant twist before popping up to his feet. He tossed his hoodie and sunglasses to the side, cracked his neck, and stared toward the entrance ramp.

“C’mon out, sweetheart. Show the world who’s gonna lose to me tonight.”

He leaned against the ropes, that smug, relaxed grin plastered on his face—utterly convinced that this would be his highlight reel.

[Dwrites]

As Blake made his entrance Esma stood behind the curtain trying not to laugh “he really thinks he’ll win” she chuckled before composing her self as her theme song She’s a Blast by Beautiful Bodies started playing
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Instead of the dress he saw her last in she was wearing a blake leather dominatrix outfit consisting of a corset gloves and boots plus a red cape. Another contrast was her attitude, in the locker room it was anger and death glares but as she made her way down the ramp she was all smiles and teasing with exaggerate hip swings plus blowing a kiss to the fan with the sign. Before entering the ring she would discard her cape on the ground before sliding into the ring.

[Weonna]

The moment Esma’s music hit, Blake turned toward the ramp with his arms crossed, expecting more fury, more fire…

What he got was a damn spectacle.

There she was—decked out in black leather like she just stepped off the cover of a fantasy magazine, her tight corset hugging every curve, thigh-high boots clicking with every teasing step, and a red cape flowing behind her like she was about to conquer a kingdom. Gone was the angry woman from earlier. In her place? A seductive, dangerous queen who owned the runway and the ring alike.

Blake’s mouth curved into a grin so wide it could’ve been trademarked.

“Well hell-loooo there…”

He leaned against the ropes like a man watching a burlesque show from the front row, eyes tracking every exaggerated swing of her hips like a cat watching a mouse with glitter on.

When she blew a kiss to the fan with the sign, Blake raised both hands like a mock referee.

“Foul play! You just stole my spot on that receiving end!”

As she approached the ring, he watched her discard the red cape like a warrior shedding unnecessary armor, and then—damn—she slid into the ring like she’d been doing this for years.

Blake gave a slow, exaggerated clap.

“Gotta say, you clean up real nice, Esma.”

He gestured at her outfit with a lazy circle of his hand.

“If I lose tonight, it won’t be ‘cause you beat me—it’ll be 'cause I got distracted.”

Then he stepped forward just a bit, voice dipping low again as he added with a wink:

“Though, fair warning... Leather or not, I will be putting you on your back.”

He grinned at her like he’d already won—charming, cocky, and just begging her to wipe that smirk off his face.

[Dwrites]

After hearing his words, Esma smirked and said “When you loss it will because of my superior skill and intellect but keep telling yourself it was because you were distracted by my beauty,Little Boy” before putting one foot in front of the other and outstretching her arms and palms before proclaiming loudly “NOW LET THE SHOW BEGIN!” and with that the bell rang, Esma would remain in her pose waiting for blake to take the first move.If blake tried to strike esma she would duck and sweep his legs, if he tried to grapple her she would kick him in the midsection.