Elizabeth 'Riza' Hawkeye vs. Armando 'Army' Rodriguez - Second Shot

Okay, Army was admittedly not in the best of shape at the moment. Dazed. A little woozy. Dizzy, sure. His skull had just been significantly rocked, so he wasn’t in the best headspace, and his judgment was probably a little off. But was Hawkeye trying to lift him up the turnbuckle?

That seemed to be what she was attempting, and more power to her. Army wasn’t the heaviest guy in the AFW, but he was from the lightest, and he was damn sure well over Hawkeye’s own weight. Nonetheless, she stuck with it, powered through, and managed to heft up a man who was nearly twice her size, putting him down to sit on the turnbuckle.

Impressive stuff. He almost hated to fuck it all up. He would, yes, but he’d feel a little bad about it.

When Hawkeye came up with him to capitalize, Army activated his trap card, summoning his strength for a final burst of life. He reached between her legs and scooped her up, holding her against his chest as he stood on the middle ropes. It was a precarious position, but one he wouldn’t stay on for long. A single moment passed before Army leaped off and dropped to the floor, letting one knee hit the mat while he kept the other upturned, letting gravity drive her ribs hard into it.

Some people probably thought Hawkeye was crazy for trying a superplex. A waste of energy, they would have said, especially in energy used just lifting Army up in the first place, an action that made her back and ribs ache.



But Hawkeye, wiping blood away from her damaged nose, had a plan. A big superplex would keep Army down and damaged, letting her lock in her armbar again, this time without him punching her in the face. For sure he'd tap out then.



That was the plan at least. Then Army's hand went between her legs, scooped her up in his strong arns, and her plan went completely to hell. A short drop, a sudden stop, and then sheer agony, the feeling of her ribs being smashed upon the hard point of his knee.



Her mouth opened, tried to scream, only for a high pitched squeak to leave her lips, trapped in his grip.

It wasn’t a pretty landing for Hawkeye. That was obvious for a few reasons. As far as the audience was concerned, it probably had something to do with the way she screamed, that blood curdling sound that came from her lips upon impact with her knee, the sheer anguish across her face. All clear, telltale signs of the agony that she’d gone through.

But Army could tell from a different way, one they wouldn’t have access to - he could feel her bones giving on his knee. The crack. The bending. From his time in boxing, he knew damn well how effective a solid rib shot could be, knew the pain she was going through right now, and he knew one, very important thing: if there was ever a time she’d be ripe for submission, it was right now.

”For the record,” Army threw a sly whisper her way as he stood up and hauled her body about. ”No girl I’ve ever been with’s complained.”

Army wrapped his arms around her ribcage, clasped them behind her spine, and pulled Hawkeye in for a nice, big hug of the bear variety, slamming their bodies together, leaving no space in between. He’d vary up the pressure, making sure she’d never get used to it. Sometimes it would be a long, hard grind, and other times he’d pump away on her. Through it all, though? Pain, pain, pain.

Hawkeye had no response for his taunt, for more than one reason. It was bad enough that his knee damn near cracked her ribs, but then the fucker turned her over, squeezing her tightly in a bearhug, her bikini-top clad breasts pressing against his chest as he squeezed. Her ribs, already damn near cracked from his earlier work, pressed and were grinding together under the strain.

She screamed. Oh did she scream. This was far worse than the torture rack he had put her in years ago. Her legs kicked, arms pushing at his shoulders, trying to create some separation of their bodies, to no avail. He varied up the pressure, a crushing grind turning into a series of hard squeezing jerks, each one drawing a pained gasp from her lips, her back and ribs feeling on fire in agony.

She couldn't handle this. It was too much, it hurt too much, and soon enough...she began tapping out on his shoulder. "No more! Please! I give! I give!"

Hawkeye was going to tap out. Oh, she hadn’t yet, not as Army began to close in with the bearhug and apply pressure. But he could tell all the signs leading to it. He wasn’t an anatomist, but he was familiar enough with the human body to gauge what would hurt it and how much it would hurt, and when he closed in with his arms and bore down on her, he learned all he needed to know. Bones were bending and cracking. Space for internal organs was getting limited. It was the sort of pain that would lead grown men to tears, and Hawkeye was a badass for enduring it as long as she did.

But she was going to give up. There was no way around it. So, when she screamed at the top of her lungs and finally submitted, he wasn’t surprised. Relieved, but not surprised - for a moment there, he thought she might make him take this match to a dark place he wasn’t willing to go.

He let go of her the instant he heard the bell, dropping her like she was burning hot. He took a step back before he knew what was happening, then another after that. Exhausted, worn out, more than he’d expected to be. She’d taken a lot out of him, and his body was only now registering a lot of it, feeling like he’d just been through two boxing bouts back to back.

But he won. This time.

”Fuck yeah.” He coughed and snorted as the referee raised his hand, displaying him to a disapproving crowd. ”Fuck...yeah.”

Fuck...just fuck.

While, thankfully, Army was good enough to drop her as soon as he heard the bell ringing, it did little to ease the pain in her ribs or her back, and even less to help the wound that had just been dealt to the woman's pride.

She had lost. Just after coming back, after so many years away, after just putting the Army incident behind her by putting Army down for the count, she had not only immediately lost to him again, but did it by submitting, tapping out, again.

She took a few deep breaths, covering her face with her hands so nobody could see her sniffle a few times, though she thankfully avoided crying. That would have been even worse. Stupid Army and his stupid muscles and stupid knee and stupid bear hugs...ugh.

She was being unfair, and a sore lose too probably, but it was very difficult not to be upset after such a loss, and it took several minutes for her to actually calm herself, steeling her disappointment as she slowly, with the referee's help, sat up, wrapping her arms around herself to soothe her poor ribs as she looked up at the victorious man standing above her.

After all, things weren't over yet.

She had to remember that. Tough as this loss was going to be to swallow, was still a part of a series. 2 down...3 more to go. Three more chances to kick Army's ass.

She looked his way again, letting out a deep sigh...and regretting it, wincing as her ribs twinged from the action. "S-so..." she stammered out, looking at him again. "The next match is *wince* your pick, right? What...what is it?"

‘Arm-Wrestling Match’.

‘Sumo Wrestling’.

‘Boxing’.

Those were three ideas that popped into Army’s head right away, the second she brought up that, yeah, he’d won, and yeah, that meant he got to choose the next match. It was funny, but for all his confidence going into this match, he hadn’t thought about what he’d choose when he pulled it off. So here he was, in a boat with need of a paddle. Ideas, ideas, ideas…

Oh.

Army took a step back and leaned against the turnbuckle, looking cool - though, really, he just needed something to lean on so his feet wouldn’t give out. He rubbed his chin, took a moment to wipe the sweat off his brow before it could sting his eyes, and nodded her way. ”Hardstyle Hentai.”

Yeah. Yeah, he had to see her reaction to that. He didn’t even really intend on really picking it, but he needed the look on her face to be a memory.

Fuck.

Fuck.

Hawkeye's eyes were wide, her jaw dropping in surprise, not a single sound coming out of her mouth for several seconds. He didn't just say that did he? He couldn't have. A Hardstyle...Hentai... match. That was just...humiliating. Sure, it wouldn't be her first, as she had some during her time away, knowing she'd have some in AFW one day...but this was different. This was Army, the man who beaten her, driven her away from the league, and now had beaten her again...which gave him every right to name that match.

FUCK!

Her blonde head hung down, looking at the mat, a downcast look in her eyes...before nodding. "...Fine. Fine....Hardstyle Hentai it is..."

She didn't give him a chance to respond, rolling out of the ring and, with the help of some ringside medical trainers, began limping to the back.[/i]

...something was wrong, here.

Army expected Hawkeye to go through a wide range of emotions at his proposal, anything from shock to disbelief to her jaw dropping to the floor. All would’ve been acceptable and made his day. Instead, he got...well, he got the jawdrop, but he also got acceptance. That, he wasn’t expecting, and by the time he could process it, she was out of the ring and going up the ramp and he was in a really, really weird spot.

He’d called her bluff, and she’d shown him up. Shit.

He exchanged glances with the referee, who was looking at Army as if he’d done something seriously wrong, instead of instigating a match that 95% of the roster had engaged in before in some manner. He shrugged it off, because...well, what else could he do?

Scratching his head, he exited the ring and headed towards the back, dreading the chewing out that Felina and Carmen would give him when he got back.