Madeline Christiansen vs. Ishigami Yuto - Thorns into Roses

[Lightman]

The tension in Yuto’s body, the way his muscles coiled with intent, all that the Englishwoman could feel. But she made no move to stop him outright. No—that would be too merciful. She wanted him to resist. To struggle. To chase an outcome that would never truly be his.

The groan that slipped past his lips as she tightened her hold was nearly as telling as the hesitance that followed. She felt his hesitation, the momentary pause before he took the opening she had so graciously given him. He was thinking—considering, maybe even hoping- that if he timed it just right, he could catch her off guard. A charming thought.

Her grip eased just enough to let him breathe, to let him believe he was about to shift the tides. And then—there. A sudden jolt. The desperate surge of movement as he bucked, trying to roll them, trying to reclaim even an ounce of control.

Madeline moved with him, not resisting the roll outright but guiding it. If he wanted to change positions, she would let him—on her terms. The moment they flipped, she let gravity carry her weight fluidly with the motion, her legs seamlessly adjusting around him. A shift of her hips, a subtle tilt of her angle—and suddenly, he wasn’t escaping. No, he was diving straight into another trap.

Her arms coiled tighter as his momentum sealed his own fate, and her lips curled in amusement as she murmured against his ear, voice thick with honeyed condescension. “Oh, Yuto… you really are adorable when you struggle.”

As he landed atop her, she wasted no time in cinching the transition, a masterful flow into a high-guard position. If he thought being on top would grant him relief, he’d find it only deepened his entanglement. Her legs climbed higher, locking him down further, the shift putting him right in place for a triangle choke. She let the moment hang, giving him just enough rope to see how he’d react—whether he’d keep fighting in vain, or realise, yet again, that Madeline had never truly let go. That, from the very start, she had never needed to.

[Lico]

Somehow, Yuto expected Madeline would just play along and he was right. She let him turn them around, and as expected, reacted accordingly with another calculated maneuver. Even when the boy managed to reverse their position, he wasn't quick enough to follow his movement through against the much fresher woman. Madeline ended up setting him for the triangle choke, another move that he wouldn't be able to get out from once it's locked in.

He realized it right away, and this time the boy tried to back away forcefully, not wanting to get trapped in the hold. If he could just pull that off, perhaps he'd be free from her grasps, momentarily, although without a doubt drain his stamina. The only option he'd take from there was to scramble away from his opponent to allow himself a short respite, but first he had to escape her clutch first.

[Lightman]

The English Rose saw his intent before his body fully committed to it. A sudden, desperate retreat—a forceful backpedal meant to wrench himself free before she could seal the choke. A last-ditch scramble before the inevitable. Amusing. If Yuto thought she would simply allow him to slip away after all his adorable floundering, he had severely underestimated how much she enjoyed reeling him back in. Her legs, already climbing his shoulders, adjusted in the same heartbeat he tried to escape. Madeline unhooked her lock—not to release him, but to reset her attack.

Instead of clamping down immediately for the choke, Madeline let his own momentum drag him forward as she shifted her weight, planting her feet against his hips. The moment his frame lurched backward, she used that exact energy to launch herself upward, snapping her legs higher around his arm and head in a flying triangle attempt.

If he wanted to escape, he would have to carry her weight along with him. The Englishwoman’s body coiled around his shoulders, her legs attempting to bite down just before he could fully slip away. “Going somewhere, sweetheart?” Her voice dripped with honeyed amusement, her lips curling as she flexed her thighs ever so slightly. Not fully sealing the trap—yet—but threatening it. A warning. Would he commit to the exhausting scramble? Would he freeze and let her capitalise? Or would he make a mistake in his panic? That was his move to make.

[Lico]

Yuto didn't have the time to think about what Madeline would do with his escape attempt. He simply had to avoid getting locked with the triangle, or so he thought. Unfortunately, she was well prepared once again, and as he tried to pull back, she latched herself onto him firmly, threatening him to carry her whole weight with him if he still decided to go through with his plan.

The main issue here was that Madeline was bigger than him. Forget about being exhausted, there's a chance he could injure himself if he forced his way so abruptly. And so, Yuto froze for a moment. He needed to rethink his course, but of course she wouldn't give him too much time. The teasing didn't help either, as he couldn't really respond to it despite the urge to do so.

In the end he decided with something that was still risky, but not as reckless as what he's going to do before. He tried to move one hand around her back, the other onto her thigh. As long as he didn't rush himself, lifting her off without straining himself too much was still possible to an extend, and he'd attempt to do just that. Perhaps less than half a meter off the mats would work, but he kinda doubted it'd be enough. In any case, the plan was to try slamming Madeline back to the ground, hoping the impact of it would give him an opening to break free from her.

[Lightman]

Madeline maintained her grip, her body positioned perfectly to exploit his hesitation. The weight difference between them that had initially seemed like an inconvenience to him was exactly what she’d been counting on. His momentary freeze told her everything—he was recalculating, reassessing the risk of injury if he proceeded with his original plan. Her rosy lips curled into a satisfied smile. This was precisely the psychological advantage she’d been cultivating.

When his hands finally moved—one sliding around her back while the other gripped her thigh—she recognised his revised strategy immediately. A textbook attempt to create leverage for a controlled lift. She felt his muscles engage as he prepared to hoist her slightly and then slam her back down, clearly hoping the impact would create enough shock for him to slip free from her hold. It was clever but predictable.

As Yuto began to execute his lift, Madeline shifted her weight distribution subtly, making herself even harder to manipulate. “How cute~.” The moment she sensed the upward momentum beginning, she snaked her right arm underneath his left armpit and across his back while simultaneously hooking her left leg around his right. With practiced precision, she’d converted her defensive triangle into a seamless transition to a modified arm bar. Using his own lifting energy against him, she’d rolled her hips and torqued his extended arm at precisely the correct angle.

“A decent attempt,” she breathed, maintaining the precise pressure on his trapped limb. “But you telegraphed your intentions from the moment you placed your hand on my thigh. In grappling, hesitation is just another opening to exploit.” She adjusted her grip slightly, demonstrating how completely she controlled the situation. Madeline would apply just enough pressure to make her point without risking injury to his joint. Once locked in with technical perfection, her back laid flat against the mat and his arm hyper-extended across her hips.

[Lico]

Yuto was able to lift Madeline off the ground, but he never got to execute the rest of his plan as she expertly dealt with the situation, transitioning the triangle into an armbar. His attempt stopped abruptly and he was hunched forward, placing her back on the mats while he grimaced from the straining of his trapped arm. At the very least, she was nice enough to just mostly hold him in there without really hurting his arm, but his frustration was only growing.

And now, the boy was pretty much stuck, again. He tried pulling his arm a little, but obviously that didn't work. He squirmed some more to no avail. His expression said it all. He's out of ideas and could only gave her a what now look.

"Thanks for the tip..."

He said after a moment of silence, in a rather jesting yet sarcastic manner. It wasn't meant to be rude, but rather out of frustration at how she's been completely outmaneuvering him and teasing him for it as well.

[Lightman]

Madeline settled into the armbar with practiced ease, her legs cinched snugly around Yuto’s shoulder, ensuring his arm remained trapped in her grasp. She wasn’t even straining—just holding, letting the threat of the submission loom over him rather than rushing to finish. His frustration was deliciously obvious, from the tension in his body to the way he grimaced at the slow, steady strain. Even the way he hunched forward, as if instinctively trying to fold into himself, only gave her more control.

“Comfortable down there?” she purred, arching her back slightly to reinforce the armbar while keeping her breaths measured and controlled. With expert technique, she adjusted her hips, creating that perfect fulcrum point where physics did most of the work for her. She could feel him testing the hold, those tentative pulls and squirms, telling her everything about his growing desperation. His expression—a mixture of frustration and resignation—was almost endearing. Madeline had seen that look countless times before on opponents who’d realised they’d been thoroughly outclassed. She watched as he fidgeted, testing for some overlooked escape, only to find none. His eyes flicked to those emerald jewels. That ‘what now?’ expression practically begs an answer. It was adorable.

When he finally broke the silence with his sardonic thanks, Madeline couldn’t help but laugh. “You’re very welcome,” she replied with mock sweetness, enjoying their verbal sparring as much as the physical. “Awww, poor thing, you~.” she cooed, tilting her head as if genuinely sympathising with his plight. Her fingers flexed slightly around his wrist, reminding him of just how much she controlled him right now. She could end this hold whenever she wanted. But why rush? He still had one use left.

With a slow, deliberate motion, Madeline raised her foot, the arch of it hovering just above his lips. The unspoken command hung between them, heavy, unignorable. A smirk curled at the edges of her mouth as she tapped the ball of her foot lightly against his chin—a prompt, a dare. “Since you’re not going anywhere, and you’re being such a good sport,” she mused, “why don’t you be a sweetheart and give this a little kiss? Maybe I’ll think about letting you go.” She wouldn’t, of course. Not yet. But he didn’t need to know that. The teasing suggestion hung in the air as she wiggled her toes slightly, her eyes sparkling with mischief. The move was pure Madeline—playful domination that pushed boundaries while reading exactly how far she could take things.

“Or,” she continued, maintaining perfect control of the armbar while speaking as casually as if they were having coffee, “we could stay like this till your whole arm gives. I’m quite comfortable, though I can’t say the same for you.” She tilted her head slightly, studying him with genuine curiosity beneath her teasing exterior.

[Lico]

Yuto could feel his cheeks warming up a little from her continuous teasing, particularly her choices of words as well. She made him felt like a little kid trying to fight an adult, which probably wasn't too far off when one took account of how the match had been going. Then he saw her foot moving in front of his face, and he gulped. Her words only confirmed his suspicion, and his mouth gaped open in response, at loss of words. It wasn't the most embarrassing demand he had heard, of course, but he was caught off guard a little given their exchanges so far had been purely wrestling.

His face contorted a little, his cheeks blushing slightly. At least she made it looked like he had no other option, but he still tried to look a little hesitant even if he didn't really mind doing what she asked. Madeline probably could tell from their eye contacts, but he couldn't care less. This was that kind of match, after all, and kissing her foot could be among the tamest thing he'd do tonight.

"Just think, eh..." he didn't miss her ambiguous remark, but not like he could do anything about it. "Hmph..." after a pout and a glance away from her he leaned towards her foot, and kissed the sole. "Mmmhh..."

A part of him wondered if she'd ask for more than just a kiss.

[Lightman]

Madeline’s grip didn’t waver in the slightest, the armbar still perfectly in place, ensuring Yuto remained right where she wanted him. His little hesitation, the way his blush deepened, the subtle tension in his body as he processed her demand—it was adorable. She could see the conflict in his eyes, that feigned resistance barely masking the truth. He wanted this. Maybe even more than he will admit.

Her smirk deepened as she wiggled her foot ever so slightly, brushing the sole against his lips just before he gave in. The warmth of his breath tickled her skin before the kiss itself, soft and obedient. Good boy. However, that wasn’t enough for Madeline. Not when she knew there was more in him.

“Oh? That was cute,” she purred, flexing her toes playfully. “But you and I both know you can do better than that, so you’re only deceiving yourself with that act of yours.” She gave his arm the slightest squeeze, a reminder of the control she still had. “If you’re going to worship me, Yuto, I expect you to mean it.”

She tilted her head, watching him with wicked amusement. “Go on,” she coaxed, voice dripping with a mix of condescension and challenge. “Make it count.”

[Lico]

"Urg..." Madeline's remark made Yuto averted his gaze again, his cheeks only getting hotter as her toes teased him a little more. "W-well... you did say a kiss..."

The squeeze on his arm made him winced, and his attention went back to her right away. His expression looked a little annoyed as she chided him, but also with a hint of excitement at the thought doing more than just a kiss. She seemed to have figured him out, but he still had to put a little show. If this match was in a more private settings... he couldn't help but to think for a moment.

"Fine..." he continued the pouty act, but gave her foot a firmer kiss, and another, and another.

The boy kept going, trying to cover as much spot as he could. His action contrasted the reluctance he showed up just seconds earlier. With each smooch he's getting more into it, and he could feel himself twitching down there every now and then. A natural reaction, he'd argue.

"Mmmhh... mmmhh..."