The Trooper (0-0) vs. Vendetta (0-0)

Jade’s got eight fights to her name. Vendetta’s barely two. Records don’t lie, but rankings sometimes see past the numbers. Vendetta came in lower on the card, already bruised from two straight losses, yet she sat higher than Jade after season two. Because somewhere in that green glare I caught the thing that can’t be taught: hunger. Raw, sharp, and nasty. Blonde hair tied back like she’s ready to chew through rope. Jade circles first, tattooed shoulders rolling, eyes low. She smells the edge in Vendetta and grins at it. They lock up hard, sweat already slick on skin. Vendetta’s quicker than her record says, fingers sliding low, testing heat between Jade’s thighs. Jade pushes back, palm flat on Vendetta’s chest, then drops her weight, pinning the rookie on the mat. Facesitting comes fast—hips locked, knees pinning shoulders, every inch of control on display. Vendetta doesn’t quit. She bites back with her own hand, two fingers working deep, twisting the angle until Jade’s breath breaks. They roll again, blonde hair everywhere. Anal follows without warning, sudden stretch and tight grip, the kind of pressure that turns fight into fuck. Sweat, muscle, teeth. No space left between them. The promise is already cashing checks.