Army Rodriguez vs Riza Hawkeye: Match 4: Full Metal Assault Match

Full Metal Assault Match:
Match only ends by Pinfall or Submission
No count out or DQ
All weapons are legal

***

Riza Hawkeye was in a good mood. It was a nice day, warm out, with clear blue skies, and she had a match. Even better, this time she got to wear clothes.

The rivalry between Hawkeye and her foe, Armando, had reached a new height in the third round of their best of 5 series, competing in a hardstyle hentai match that was hard hitting and, thanks to Hawkeye’s choice of bikini, an incredibly hot match as well. Turns out, Army had one hell of a tongue on him, the thought of the orgasms he gave her still making the woman blush. But in the end, with the help of a blowjob and a double dose of her Boma-Ye finisher, she had put the big man down for the count, bringing her up 2-1 in their series, and allowing her to name the match type for their next bout.

What she chose...was a Full Metal Assault match. While really just a fancy name for a hardcore match, with a focus on metal weapons around the ring, the point was still made clear, if Army wanted to keep fucking with her, she was going to take the fight right to him. Clad in her blue and white camo pants, white bikini top, and blue vest, the ex-military woman came out to the ring, enjoying the fans cheering for her during her entrance. While she hadn’t gotten them all yet, each match she was gaining more fans, winning them over with her heart, skill, determination,...and to be honest, the bikini and sex appeal she showed in her previous match certainly helped.

As soon as she reached the ring, Hawkeye went around each side, reaching under the ring and grabbing various items. A couple steel chairs, a steel trash can, a cookie sheet, a steel chain, and finally, a wooden singapore cane, the blonde fighter rolling into the ring and moving to lean against the corner turnbuckle, resting the kendo stick against her shoulder as she awaited her rival.

Uuuuuuuuuugh. Fuck.

Literally. Fuck.

It had been a rough couple of weeks for Armando Rodriguez. More accurately, it had been a rough couple of weeks on Armando Rodriguez’s Twitter feed. He only checked it once or twice a day, usually having far better things to do, but ever since he lost that last match to Hawkeye, his page was inundated with memes and jokes and lewd pictures and all manner of bullshit, people throwing it all back in his face. Jokes, jokes, joles, nothing but jokes, and needless to say, he was growing more than a little tired of it all.

Tonight, that changed. Tonight, there wouldn’t be any distractions. Tonight, he was going to beat Hawkeye, figure out something for the final match, and cement this whole thing. Tonight, he was out to win.

Deciding to come out with appropriate wear this time, Army strode from behind the curtain in his street clothes - long, black jeans, ripped and rugged, topped off with steel-toe workboots that would’ve been a better fit for a construction site than a wrestling ring. He wore a tight, white tank top, complimenting his muscles well, and he had on black, fingerless gloves to complete the look.

War ready.

He took a moment to look around the ring before jumping in, settling on a trashcan as his weapon of choice for starting up. He grabbed it and slid under the ring, popping to his feet quick and eying Hawkeye from across the ring. Nice and locked.

He didn’t say anything. Didn’t need to. They were well past that, at this point. Right now, he was just waiting for the bell to ring.

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Army looked ready for a serious fight. He looked pretty pissed off actually. Maybe he was mad he had lost their previous bout? Embarrassed? It was possible. Riza had certainly gotten a LOT of lewd messages and pictures on her social media after their match.

Not her fault, not her problem. He was one who picked that match, all she did was win it. That’s on him. So if he was ready for a real fight tonight, then good, she was too.

There were no words, they both fully understood things. Whatever growing respect there might be between them, and whatever...more than that there could be after their last match, none of that mattered right now, neither would hold back.

Once the bell rang, Hawkeye charged in, fast, looking to meet up with Army head on and swing her kendo stick at his leg!

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And here we go.

Army expected Hawkeye to come in strong, and she didn’t disappoint on that front, charging hard with that kendo stick at full swing. It seemed like they were both on the same page, then. Good to know.

Army hadn’t just picked the trash can at random, though - he wanted it because he figured it would be good for both offense and defense, something that would be crucial in surviving this fight. That instinct bore fruit right away, as he dropped it low and let it take the full brunt of her swing, filling the ring with the shrill, shrieking crack of wood against metal.

It wasn’t that pleasant for Army’s hands or his ear, but it was better than taking the full brunt on his leg, in any case. It made a good opening and he took it right away, barreling forward with a shoulder tackle, throwing his full weight at her in an attempt to knock Hawkeye clean off her feet.

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Riza had been expecting to hear the sound of a solid “THWACK” of her kendo stick smacking against Army’s leg, but rather than a sound of wood on flesh, there was a loud crash of wood meeting metal, the swinging stick making a dent in the aluminum can. The sound made her wince, but that was nothing compared to the follow up, as Army slammed into her front, knocking the lighter fighter off her feet and onto the mat.

“Shit!” She yelled, trying to crawl back, looking to make some distance so she could get back onto her feet before Army could take advantage.

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Army’s little gambit paid off right away, better than he could’ve even planned. Down she went, right on her back, the exact position he wanted her in for what would come next.

The obvious play would’ve been to lift up the trash can and bring it down on Hawkeye’s body, and that was what he almost went for - but he had a better idea, right then.

Instead, he stepped forward, moved over her, and attempted to press the trash can down on her chest, leaning into her with his weight, attempting to pin her to the mat.

He doubted it would work out as well, as he was hoping, but it was a worth a shot. The sooner he won this match, the better.

For both of them.

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Riza tensed up, covering her head with her arms, intending to block the obvious trash can shot that would be coming down upon her, no doubt, seeing as Army had her dead to rights.

But it didn't come.

Instead, as she looked up, she saw Army standing above her, before the can was pressed down tight on her, pressing her back and shoulders onto the mat, causing her to struggle and exhale as he pressed some of the air out of her, the referee girl dropping to her knees and slapping her hand on the mat. "One! Two!" she cried, only just reaching the second count before Hawkeye freed an arm from under the can and thrust her shoulder up off the mat to break the count,

Not to be deterred, she reached out, grabbing the kendo stick that she had dropped when he had shoulder checked her, and swung it upwards at him, trying to smack him in the side while he was bent over her!
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Army, on a good day, weighed about 210 pounds, and most of that was solid muscle. Tension had some solid, strong women, sure, but could most of them ever hope to push that weight off, especially when it was being driven down by a trashcan of all things. Definitely not any of the women in the slimmer weight classes.

Hawkeye was an exception. Because of course she was. Granted, she was a fucking soldier, so he shouldn’t have been all that surprised, but still...

Instead of staying down, she pushed up and beat the count, dashing his hopes of an easy, first minute win.

That would’ve been bad enough on its lonesome, but she followed up on this with another shot from the kendo stick, and this one found its mark, cracking him hard in the side

Army cried out and staggered away, grasping his side and hissing, dropping the trashcan as he reeled from the blow.
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Much as she might not have wanted to admit it...that was luck, plain and simple. One arm just not quite pinned down straight, able to squeeze out. Things had very nearly come to a quick end right there, but she would never let Army know that. Luck continued to be on her side though, as her stick shot forced Army back away from her. Eager to press this advantage as she got back to her feet, inspiration struck as she saw the discarded trash can near her.

Briefly dropping the wooden stick, Hawkeye picked up the trash can and, with a grunt, tossed it in Army’s direction. A sloppy throw, one he was almost certain to dodge or swat away with his impressive strength...but would be a momentary distraction, as she followed up behind the can, singapore cane in hand, raising it high and trying to swing it down on her opponent’s head!
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Lucky or not, Hawkeye’s move did its job perfectly, cracking Army hard in the side. He was no stranger to pain in that region, having suffered more body blows than he cared to count on any given day. He knew heavy damage when he saw it, and this? This was pain he’d be feeling for a while.

Hawkeye showed good instincts, moving in quick to take advantage, not giving him much of a moment to recover. He batted away the trash can with the one hand that wasn’t busy nursing his side, only to discover, too late, that it was just a ruse - the real attack was coming in high and heavy, right for his skull.

It cracked him square, right in the middle of his forehead, and his entire world filled with stars. Stunned, he fell forward right on his chest in a lifeless heap, eyes glazed over. And drooling.
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The resounding “THWACK” of the stick against Army’s head made the entire crowd, and even Hawkeye herself, wince in sympathy. She had held nothing back with that strike, as Army no doubt wouldn’t have held back had their positions been reversed. Still, the effect surprised her, as Army fell straight to the mat, seemingly KOed from her attack. With a grin, she went to raise the stick up victoriously...only to gasp as she saw it broken in half, one piece laying on the mat, having snapped against Army’s thick skull.

Shit...might have gone too far there. Still, it was effective. “Sorry Army...maybe I’ll give you another hentai match to make up for headache you’ll have when you wake up, but this series ends here.” she said, dropping to her knees and tossing away the half of kendo stick before, with a grunt of effort, shoving Army’s body over onto his back so she could hook his leg and signal to the referee that she was going for a pin attempt, the girl nodding and dropping down to slap at the mat. “ONE!”
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Fuck. Fuck. Fuuuuuuuuck.

For a moment, Army was clean out of the match, beyond groggy. The world was dark. Quiet. Still. A knockout. He was cold.

He woke up an instant later, and it all came rushing back to him in a hurry. The crowd was roaring all around him, even louder and more obnoxious than usual. Something was on top of him, holding him down, and there was a slap nearby with a voice accompanying it.

“TWO!”

Army shot his shoulder up on pure reflex, just in time to break the count and keep him in the fight. It was more of a jerk than a real kickout, and considering how young the match was, it was a bad state to be in. He needed to get out of this ring. Right the fuck now.

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Well shit, he actually kicked out. That was unexpected to say the least. She should have guessed he would though, with a head as hard as his.

"Just gotta be a tough bastard, don't you handsome?" she mused, patting his arm gently, before getting back up to her feet. Luckily for her, she had plenty of shiny and violent tools here to play with, that would be certain to put him down for the count.

Leaving Army prone on the mat for now, she moved over to the various weapons she had thrown into the ring, having her choice. Chairs? She could beat on him, but that felt...mean-spirited. The ladder? Good for slamming him on...or maybe something else…

Grabbing the ladder, she picked it up, starting to set it up in the corner, clearly having something in mind, her back to her opponent.
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To say Army ‘kicked out’ was maybe a little too generous. It would imply far more conscious effort than he really put into it. In truth, he had a spasm, and he shrugged her off. If Hawkeye had been a little bit heavier, it wouldn’t have even worked.

But it did. By a small miracle, Army was still in this. Sort of.

He came around as Hawkeye moved to check on something with the ladder, working with it in the corner. The audience was already calling to her, warning her that he was getting back up, which meant that his chance - if you could even call this that - was about to fade away. He had to move. Right now.

Getting up to his feet, Army charged forward, dropped down, and attempted to spear her right into the ladder - and he didn't particularly care if she turned around to take it or not.
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Setting up the ladder didn’t take long, but something clearly happened in that time, as, once Riza was done, she could see several fans pointing and calling out to her, clearly trying to warn her of something...which probably meant Army was up.

Fuck. Faster than she expected.

She turned in place, arms, on instinct, going up to cover her head, expecting some kind of trash can or chair shot to the skull, in retribution for what she did with the stick. Little did she expect, Army was charging at her, and while she was blocking a revenge shot, she didn’t expect his body to plow into hers, smashing her back first into the very ladder she had only just set up!

She didn’t even cry out, smashing hard against the steel ladder, mouth open in a wordless, vocal-less gasp of agony and shock as she bounced off the ladder, landing on her front, to the winces and gasps of sympathy from the crowd.
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Bullseye. Sort of.

Army did hit Hawkeye, but it was far from pleasant. Not only was a groggy, painful affair just getting to his feet afterward, but he nearly hit the ladder with his head, a move that would’ve knocked him clean out. It was only by a small miracle that this match didn’t have a surprising and boring finish. Got to keep the people happy, right? Yay.

He didn’t want to stand up after that, but he knew he needed to - the initiative was too important to lose, not like this. Reaching over, he grabbed Hawkeye by the hair and stood up, trying to drag her along for the ride, willing or not.
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Ow Ow Ow Fuck Ow….whose stupid idea what it to make this a weapons match anyway?

Oh...right. Hers.

Fuck.

The pain in her back was jarring, paralyzing even, and was soon joined by a pain in her scalp as she was dragged up, wincing and gritting her teeth as the big lummox pulled her up to her boots by her golden blonde hair, as she gripped his wrist in a vain attempt to pull him off. “Getoffgetoffgetoff!”
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“Yeah, yeah, yeah…”

No, the hair-grabbing wasn’t particularly nice of Army, but Army wasn’t in a particularly nice mood at the moment. He was more in a ‘I Want To Get This Done With As Soon As Possible So I can Pop An Advil’ mood, than anything, and that meant taking the fight straight to her.

So up she went, hauled up nice and rough. But he could be a little bit of a gentleman, here - she wanted her to let him go? He’d do that.

He’d do that by lifting her up by the waist and tossing her over the ropes, ass-over-teakettle, but he’d do it.

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Hawkeye immediately regretted her words when he went from grabbing her hair to her waist, his powerful arms keeping her in place despite her struggles. She swung her elbow at him, punched at his knee, nothing was able to prevent him from scooping her up. Then, in what was an impressive show of power even for him, he tossed her high, and, before she could as much as gasp, she had sailed over the ring ropes, clearing the top rope entirely.

The fall seemed like it came in slow motion, the woman flailing her limbs, the floor coming closer and closer...until she slammed into the padded concrete floor, the crowd wincing in sympathy as she crashed and burned on the ground below, landing on her front, where she stayed, even the referee girl gasping, hands covering her mouth in shock.
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Army had no idea what it looked like when Hawkeye hit the floor, but just going off the way the audience reacted? It must’ve sucked. Big time.

On his side, he was a bit too busy trying to regain his footing to really pay it much attention, this match already taking a big toll on his body. He shook his head, still needing the ropes for support, only to look over to the floor - yup, she’d had a nasty landing. Seemed out of it. Maybe just enough for…

Army dropped down to a knee, flopped on his back, and rolled out of the ring under the rope, collapsing near Hawkeye’s body. After taking another few seconds to catch his breath, he tried to push her over and roll on top, hoping this would be enough, looking for the pin. “Work, work, work.”

The referee followed them both out soon enough, dropping to her knees and slapping the mat. “1…!”
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That...really...fucking...sucked. The fall had seemed to take ages, and the landing was was not at all pleasant, the ex military woman landing on the padded floor with a sickening splat, sounding similar to raw meat being dropped on a stone floor.

Much like Army earlier, she was out of it, limbs splayed out, her only movements being the rise and fall of her body as she breathed shallow breaths, appearing entirely unconscious.

While not entirely true, it might as well have been, as Hawkeye's world was nothing but a pain filled foggy haze, barely registering what was going on around her as she was rolled to her back, breasts jiggling a little in her white top, and pinned, the ref girls hesitation only buying her a brief second before she started the count.


The womans hand slapped the floor, a cry of "2!" coming from her lips. The call cut through the fog in Hawkeye's head, and, as the refs hand came down for a third time, her body reacted on instinct, throwing her arm up and just barely getting her shoulder off the floor before the three count, saving the match!
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And she kicked out. After that kind of damage. “God. Damn. It.”

BuyHe let out a long groan, one that hampered by the crowd’s cheers. It was cute that they were all siding with her and everything, but this wasn’t the good thing they perceived it to be. It just meant that this was going to go on even longer, and their heroine would be in even more pain.

But, okay. Pinning her wouldn’t work. That just meant he needed to get more creative.

He reached down, scooped her up, then hauled her up onto his back, pulling down on her legs and back to complete Hawkeye’s favorite submission move: the Torture Rack. But he didn’t have her in this to hurt her, well, not just to her. No, he kept her here for transport, as he moved closer the announcer tables.
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Hawkeye wasn't even aware she had kicked out of the pin, still limp on the floor, her only sign of life being her groaning and writhing on the mat.

Weak, limp, fuzzy to the pain over her body, Riza offered no resistance as Army lifted her up...until he cinched the hold in, causing the blonde to shriek loudly, limbs flailing in pain and panic as she awoke to a hold she remembered from her nightmares, a shock going through her body as he carried her to where he wanted.
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Hawkeye was a lot heavier than he remembered her being, which didn’t bode well for Army. It was a solid sign that this match was already taking a toll on him, one that went beyond the obvious, and a good argument for moving to end this. The sooner he put Hawkeye to bed, the better his chances were.

He dumped her on the announce table as the staff hurried to get out of the way, and took a moment clear off the table. Papers went flying every, microphones were tossed, and a TV monitor was ‘accidentally’ thrown at a particularly annoying guy in the front row who kept heckling Army.

With her in place. Army walked over to the side and got up onto the table next to it, standing tall over Hawkeye. He took a moment to do a Hail Mary, got a running start, then leaped up and tucked his legs in as he flew, attempting to come down on Hawkeye with a world-ending Senton Bomb.
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Hawkeye let out a loud grunt as she landed on the table, twitching from the torture rack, chest rising and falling as she breathed heavily. Her entire world was pain right now...yet, later, in hindsight, she would have to have to thank Army for putting her in the hated hold. Painful as it was, the shock and pain of the hold woke her up, gave her clarity and awareness of her surroundings.

Looking up, her eyes widened with panic as, in her upside down vision, she saw Army charging from the next table, leaping up high into the air, the crazy bastard fully intending to squash her flat! With a gasp, the blonde mustered every bit of willpower her aching body could muster, rolling to the side and falling off of the table just while her opponent was mid-flight, leaving nothing but an empty table for him to crash through!
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This should’ve been enough to do it. There should’ve been no way that Hawkeye could move, not with the pounding that he’d been heaping on her. She was tough, but she wasn’t invincible. When he leaped up and let gravity take over, he was so sure that there was no way she’d be moving.

But she did. Oh, fuck, did she move.

The landing was going to suck, regardless, but not having a Hawkeye-shaped pillow to land on made it suck that much more. He came down right in the middle and crashed straight through, sending wood flying in every direction and demolishing it in and instant. Arms and legs splayed out, he stayed there for a moment, laying still - until he had a quick spasm, showing that he was still alive. Other than that, he stayed quiet.

The crowd, however, were far more vocal. “HOLY SHIT! HOLY SHIT!”
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Thank god she moved. That landing HAD to suck. It sounded awful, like a demolition, a wrecking ball smashing through the floor, she could feel the vibration of the impact through the floor, and, while just far enough to avoid the crash itself, Hawkeye found herself soon covered in bits of wood and loose wires, one of the announcers water bottles bouncing off of her head.

Despite the massive advantage this just gave her...Riza couldn’t capitalize on it, not the way she should have, at least. Simply put, she was exhausted, sweaty, and her entire body was sore, this match, brief as it had been, felt like it had lasted twice as long as it actually had, and had been non-stop that whole time. She, simply, needed a break, a moment to breath.

For a few minutes, the two fighters just lay there, on the floor, next to each other, while the crowd chanted and cheered for their respective champion. Finally though, no longer fuzzy, and getting her wind back, Riza rolled over and crawled on top of Army, not hooking his leg, but draping her chest over his, going for a pin attempt, the ref girl dropping to all fours and starting the count! “ONE!” she yelled, all while Riza had the same thought. “Please stay down, please stay down!”
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Army had no idea where he was, or what happened or what he was doing or anything at all. As he laid there, the entire world was silent. Just hit, his thoughts, and the quiet.

After a moment, things started to come back to him. The audience’s cheers. The clapping. The announcer’s losing their shit. Oh, and he had something draped over him. A woman, it felt like. And someone was saying something, counting, almost like…

“2…!”

Oh, fuck.

Army jerked up at the last second, more out of reflex than anything, beating the count by the narrowest margin. Aching, he stared up at the ceiling as he rejoined the waking world, his mind still in the process of rebooting.
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How!?

Somehow, Hawkeye had no earthly idea how, but somehow, Army was still conscious and kicking, breaking out of the pinfall attempt. The blonde rolled off of the muscular hunk, sitting up in the debris of the table, panting heavily, before pounding her fist onto the floor.

Son of a BITCH!

Seeing the nearby water battle that had landed on her head earlier, she grabbed it, twisting it open and taking a drink, getting up to her feet and dumping it over her head, stripping off her jacket and tossing it aside as the cool water flowed down her face and body, calming her and helping her think straight, getting catcalls from the audience as she shook the water from her hair.

Grabbing Army by the arm, her other hand grabbing his hair, she started to pull the big lug upwards. “Come on big guy, let’s finish you properly in the ring…” she said, getting her head under his arm, aiming to half drag/half carry him to the ring apron so she could try and roll him back into the ring!
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Army’s head hurt. His back hurt. His chest hurt. His butt hurt. He swore, even his fucking fingernails hurt.

Everything hurt now, just this giant mass of pain, and no, getting dragged about by his arm - yes, which also hurt - sucked, but he wasn’t in any position at the moment to do anything about it. He was a rag doll. A 200 pound rag doll, but a rag doll all the same.

To Hawkeye’s credit, she didn’t let that weight deter her. He’d only been lying there for a little while before she scooped him up and hobbled him over to the ring, dragging his limp body across the floor. He came flopping in and landed on his chest, and that was where he stayed for a moment, until he sluggishly began to push his way up. Not because he wanted to, but because he needed to.
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Why was Army so damn heavy? It took forever to get him on the apron and roll the attractive man into the ring, and she needed to sit against the ring apron for a minute before she could get back to her feet. It wasn’t easy. Her entire body stung, but the water she had dumped on herself had cooled herself off, and with Army still down, she had an idea that might just put him down.

Grabbing the ropes, she climbed up onto the apron, and from there, climbed onto the turnbuckle. Slowly standing all the way up, working to keep her balance, aware that she had never actually attempted what she was about to try to do, but was just desperate enough to try, she pointed at Army, who was attempting to rise. “Just stay down already damnit!” she yelled, crossing herself before leaping off of the turnbuckle, angling her body and flipping forward, trying to Swanton Bomb down onto Army’s back!
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Up. Up. Just a little more Army. Almost there, and…

...fuck it, down again.

Army flopped over to his back after a modest effort at rising, the effort taking far too much of a toll on his for the moment. Was that the first time he’d ever gone through a table? Felt like it. He was pretty sure he would’ve remembered something like this if it happened before. His back was on fire, his head was hazy, he couldn’t put too coherent thoughts together, and-

Holy shit, Hawkeye was flying towards him.

Reflexes took over in that instant. He had no hope of dodging the Bomb, he knew that, but he had to do something about it, so his body went with the only thing it had on such short notice. Quick as he could, Army raised his knees to his chest, hoping he could do it fast enough to make Hawkeye’s landing a rough one.
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This match officially sucked.

That was Hawkeyes personal opinion of the match she was in. It might not have been, had she hit her Swanton and pinned Army like planned.

But no. Fate would not let that be so. Instead, fate allowed Army to get his knees up to his chest, JUST in time, the beautiful blonde landing backfirst on the hard pointed limbs, her eyes opening wide in surprise, mouth opening in a silent scream, only a high pitched squeal escaping her lips as she writhed on the mat after landing, back arched in sheer and utter agony, the woman unable to so much as breath for several seconds before she pounded the mat with her fists, her pained cries finally leaving her throat, booted feet kicking on the mat. “FUCK! FUCK! FUUUUUUUCK!”

Indeed. This match sucked. Army sucked too, she would subconsciously think, while laying on her front, whimpering loudly as one hand clutched at her aching back!
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It wasn’t exactly peaches and cream for Army, either. The thing that they didn’t tell you about getting your knees up for an aerial move was that it meant you’d be taking a lot of weight on a part of the human body that was really not designed to be taking weight like that. Again, Hawkeye wasn’t exactly a heavyweight, but she was solid, well-built, and had a much more personal relationship with gravity than many of her fellow Tension women. So, when she landed on his knees, well…

“Shit!”

Yeah, it sucked. But it sucked more for her. So, you know, perspective.

So, pinning her hadn’t worked too well, and he frankly wasn’t in a good enough way to stand up and haul her along with him. But that didn’t mean he was out of options. His legs and back ached, but his arms? They were good, as usual. As always.

Inching forward like a soldier through the trenches, Army reached out for Hawkeye while she writhed and tried to clamp his arm around her neck, pulling her towards him for a tight chokehold, flexing his biceps to increase the pressure. Not the flashiest way to end this, but that ship sailed about five minutes ago. Now, he was just looking to end this. Hook or crook.
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As if Hawkeye didn’t have enough to deal with at the moment, her back in flaming agony after his most recent attack, Army found a new way to piss her off, the blonde only just realizing he was crawling up behind her before his arm clamped tightly around her pale neck, the former soldier letting out a choked gasp as he flexed and squeezed his arm around her throat, legs kicking in response.

Weakly, she grabbed at his arm, desperately pulling and tugging at it in a vain attempt to force him off of her, to no avail. With each second, more air was squeezed out of her, her vision already starting to get fuzzy, black spots starting to appear, as she tugged a bit weaker, starting to fade in his grasp. “N-no...please no…” she gasped out, realizing she was on the verge of being choked out!
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Go to sleep, go to sleep, go to sleep…

Army didn’t like this, didn’t like any of this. He didn’t like the way she writhed in his grasp, he didn’t like the way she squirmed about like she was in her death throes, and he really did not like the way she was begging for mercy, like he was some kind of horror movie.

But he would’ve liked hurting her even less if she’d gotten out of this. This match had been long, brutal, and it needed to end. So, without any other real choices.

“Just.” He squeezed harder. “Go.” And harder. “To sleep!” Harder.
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Each ragged breath became torture for Hawkeye, a labor too great to achieve, as his muscular arm tightened harder and harder around her pale throat.

"No...no stop…"

She muttered, begging not to be put to sleep, even if her exhausted and bruised body partially wanted it. In desperation, she reached down, clawing at and starting to pull apart and undo the laces of one of her boots, the tight boot getting a bit looser, a little more looser and...were those black spots in her vision?

"Can't...lose...like...thi…" The blonde stuttered out, a bit of drool starting to bubble up on her lips, her body slowing down, darkness filling her vision before it went black, just a peek of light showing. Her body finally went limp in his grasp, the ref girl going down onto her knees and checking Hawkeye's wrist, raising it up and letting it drop to the mat.

"ONE!"

"TWO!"
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“Yes. You. Can.”

It wasn’t exactly the wittiest thing that Army could’ve said, and it probably fell on deaf ears anyway, but it was the best he could think up at the moment. His entire body was drained, he could barely put two thoughts together. This was all he could do, really. Squeeze and squeeze and squeeze…until…

"THREE!"

Done.

The moment it was clear that Hawkeye was out, the bell ringing, Army flopped to the side, gasping and heaving, trying his best to collect his breath. He was also trying to remember the last time he’d had to fight so hard in a match for a win, but it wasn’t really coming to him right now. Maybe he’d remember later, when more than half of his brain was working. Yeah.

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Hawkeye looked almost peaceful, lying unconscious on the mat, like she had fallen asleep instead of being choked unconscious, only her red face and the tear lines down her cheeks giving her away.

After checking she was breathing alright, and raising Army’s hand in victory, the ref girl broke open some smelling salts, waving them under her nose to wake her up. She came up sputtering, gasping, wheezing for air, taking great gulps of it.

Finally, after several moments of catching her breath, the defeated woman looked around, seeing Army standing...and hung her head, pounding her fist on the mat. "...you got me, didn't you?" She asked, disappointment clear in her voice.
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He won. They raised his hand. The crowd cheered - well, some of them did. Like, half. The other half was cursing him like he was the spawn of Satan, but he’d come to get used to that sort of thing. Water off a duck’s back.

No, he stayed fixed on her the whole time, watching as the referee made an attempt to bring her back. Sure enough, she came to the land of the living in a rush, and reality set in soon afterward. The question on her mind was an obvious one, but she asked it, anyway. And got a response.

“Yeah. Yeah, I got you.” There was an unspoken ‘barely’ at the end of that sentence. He took a deep breath and reached for the ropes, grabbing them to keep himself steady. “Two on two. You up for finishing this?”

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Hawkeye groaned as he confirmed her worst thoughts. She had lost. Defeated. Not even going down swinging, but choked unconscious like a bitch. Humiliating. Possibly MORE humiliating than their hentai match. At least she had won that one.

Her throat still burning, body utterly aching, the blonde tried to stand up, grabbing the ropes for assistance...but only managed to get partway up before her shaky legs and lightheadedness made her fall back onto her butt.

She bit back a curse, groaning instead and pounding the mat with her fist again, pouting at her loss and her intense fatigue. Realizing she was stuck here for the moment, on her butt, while Army was able to stand, she looked his way again, disappointment clear on her face. “...Yeah. One last one to go...your pick since...you beat me…” she sighed, but shot him a glare. “Don’t you think of picking hentai again. I sucked your dick in public once, I’m not doing that in public again, you got that?”
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“Right, right.” Army folded his arms, thinking for a moment, considering what would be the best could of action, here. He really hadn’t thought this far, being completely honest, too focused on the match to even consider what would happen next. Kind of lame of him in hindsight, but there he was.

He couldn't’ just go with any old match. It had to be something big, something heavy, something that was everything the other matches were and a little on top. Something fair to both of them, because if he won this through challenging her to something like a boxing match, she’d never let him live it down. And it couldn’t be a 2 out 3 Falls or something. That’d just be silly.

It came to him pretty quickly after a moment of hard thought, and it made sense. They needed something hard, something final, something that wouldn’t leave any question on who’d won the match, and there was only one thing that fit the bill:

“Last Man Standing.” He paused, then looked off to the side. “Or person. Last Person Standing.” There, more PC now.
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Hawkeye’s head had been down as Army thought over his decision, mentally beating herself up over losing in a match she suggested...but when his suggestion came, she seemed to perk up, looking up at him with wide eyes. Last Person Standing...she could work with that. She had one more opportunity to win this, and that match might just be the best ticket to do so.

“Yeah...yeah, alright...Last Person Standing. I can do that. It’s the big “finale” right, and there’s a pay per view coming up. Might as well make it big.” She said, rubbing her sore throat, slowly rolling out of the ring to place her feet on the floor, though she soon needed to call the referee over to help her start limping back. “Showdown...I’ll be fully recovered, and ready to fight you at Showdown. I’ll bring my best...” She exclaimed, pointing weakly, exhausted, but still with at least a small bit of fire, at him as the ref girl helped her limp away to lick her wounds.

Army Rodriguez wins via KO
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