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

[Weonna]

Esma leaned back on the ropes, all smirks and swagger, like the match was still a game to her.

“Where’s that cocky smile now, Little Boy?”

She didn’t get an answer.

Because Blake didn’t give her one.

He exploded forward without a word—no wind-up, no warning. Just pure fury and muscle as he charged straight at her, every step pounding like a war drum.

Before she could react—

SMASH!

His body crashed into hers with full force, crushing her into the turnbuckles with a ring-shaking corner splash!

Blake stayed close for just a second longer, breathing heavy against her, his face inches from hers.

"Found it,”

he muttered, lips curling into a dark grin.

“Miss me?”


He stepped in close, pressing his forearm to her collarbone to pin her in place—and then he started driving punches into her gut, one after the other.

THUD.
A hard shot under her ribs.

THUD.
Another, deeper into her abs.

THUD.
The last one hit low and mean!

[Dwrites]

Esma had let her guard down and now she was paying the price. As Blake’s corner splash connected Esma let out a “Agggh”. As blake taunted her esma could only catch her breath before feeling his forearm press against her collarbone pinning her to the turnbuckle and allowing him to pound her midsection. But if blake thinks he’s got nothing to worry about he’s dead wrong. As esma through the pain was planning a counter attack. As blake landed the third punch esma would droop her head down and her arms would fall to her side making it look like he either knocked her out or that she lost the will to fight but it was a trap if he tried to throw another punch she would kick him in the chin, if he taunted or tried to check on her condition she would uppercut him.

[Weonna]

She went limp.

Head drooped, arms slack, body sagging like it couldn’t take another hit. Blake grinned, already drawing his fist back for one last shot to seal the sequence.

“Thought so—”

WHAM!

Her leg exploded upward like a spring-loaded trap, the tip of her boot smashing straight into his chin with brutal precision.

Blake’s head snapped back violently, spit flying from his mouth as the force of the kick lifted him onto his toes for a split second before gravity yanked him down. He staggered backward with heavy steps, dazed, eyes blinking rapidly like someone just hit the lights out.

He nearly dropped to a knee—but caught himself on instinct alone, one hand clutching his jaw, the other stretching out to keep balance.

[Dwrites]

Blake had once again been tricked by esma to let his guard down so once again esma would punish him right? Well Esma was a bit busy clutching her stomach groaning in pain after blake hammered it. After a few seconds of recovery esma would try and get behind blake. If he was still stunned she would dropkick his back to send him into the corner. If he had recovered from her kick to his chin she would wait for him to turn around before performing a chop block looking to send him to the mat. https://m.youtube.com/watch?v=4qXl931opDc

[Weonna]

His jaw still throbbed. His vision was clearing—but too slowly.

He didn’t see her behind him.

THUMP!

Esma’s boots slammed square into his spine, and Blake’s body jerked forward uncontrollably. His face smashed into the top turnbuckle with a harsh grunt, arms draping over the ropes as he slumped into the corner like dead weight.

“Tch… damn it…"

He clenched his jaw, breathing heavy through his nose, pain shooting through his back. His fingers gripped the ropes, his body twitching with a mix of frustration and fury.

She was hitting harder than he expected. Smarter, too.

[Dwrites]

Hitting Blake’s back with a dropkick brought a smile to Esma’s face that only slight diminished when she landed on her bruised and sore stomach. Letting out a hiss of pain as she got up but never losing her smile, esma watched blake grip the ropes and start shaking. Which caused her grin to turn into a wide smile “Oh poor poor Blakey” Esma Thought “It must be sooooo frustrating having to accept you’re second fiddle in this ring” Esma walked over to blake in a confident strut before putting her hands on her hips and saying “oh is the Little Boy mad he isn’t getting his way?” before slapping Blake in the face then continuing the taunt “get a grip and learn your place!”. Esma was trying to get Blake to loose his temper and throw a heavy strike at Esma which she would dodge before slapping him again.

[Weonna]

The second Esma’s hand slapped his cheek, Blake’s jaw twitched—but he didn’t bite. Not the way she expected.

She was too busy playing queen of the ring to see the trap being set.

He feinted high—her eyes followed his hands—

Then his boot blasted into her already-bruised gut to get her folded over!

"You talk too much,”

Blake growled through gritted teeth.

Without hesitation, he stepped in and swung a heavy forearm across her back, the sound of the impact echoing through the arena like a hammer on steel.

THWACK.

[Dwrites]

One of the drawbacks of using counters is that a opponent may catch on and a counter with no surprise was basically a opportunity for the opponent. Which Blake took full advantage of by kicking Esma in the stomach and hammering her into the mat. While hissing in pain Esma, knowing she was in another bad situation, tries to roll out of the ring. If Blake stops her with his foot she will grab the ropes and attempt to slip out from under his boot and out the ring, If Blake instead grabs her hair esma will throw a uppercut at Blake’s chin.

[Weonna]

She rolled under the ropes with a hiss, arms clutching her gut, body clearly hurting—but still slipping away like smoke in his fingers.

Blake didn’t stop her.

He didn’t grab her. Didn’t stomp her.

He just watched.

Watched her land outside, crawl, struggle to her feet.

“Go on,”

he muttered under his breath.

“Run.”

With deliberate calm, he stepped through the ropes and dropped to the floor with a heavy thud. The second his boots hit ringside, he rolled his neck, eyes zeroed in on her like a heat-seeking missile.

“I’m comin’ to get you.”

Then he took off.

Full sprint.

No theatrics. No taunts.

Just pure momentum as he tore across the floor, shoulder dropped—

—ready to spear her in half!

[Dwrites]

As Esma landed on the outside with a thud gripping her injured stomach she mentally cursed herself as she collected herself “Dammit Esma you should have known he would’t fall for the same trick twice” As she stood up she heard the THUD of Blake’s boots hit the floor turning around she saw him charge at her like an angry bull. With little time to act or plan Esma decided to grab the bull by the horns by running towards Blake and preform a running knee strike.