CROYT'S WRATH I wrestling oneshots (COMPLETE)

drabble: his affinity toward the dramatics as well as bad ideas | kenny omega

pairing: kenny omega x reader

plot: he has elaborate bullshit ideas every ten seconds, hey [y/n] what do you think of an exploding barbwire deathmatch? bitch, you're challenging jon moxley

genre: humor

warning: swearing

author's note: ... okay so the plot kinda spoiled everything but it was too good not to do!! anyways, i hope you enjoy this nonnie!!

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"i still think it's a bad idea." you crossed your arms over your chest, clearly disapproving of your best friend's notion. this is not a situation you frequently found yourself in. even if kenny was the one who's a tad bit more childish than you, he was a worrier. he worried about you constantly. he never wanted to see his best friend in pain or discomfort and tried his best to keep you away from it. there were times when this got a little annoying, but you knew that he's just looking out for you and it's greatly appreciated. today though, things are different because now, after what he had just proposed to you, you're the one worrying over him.

"c'mon! it'll be fine! i'm a big boy, i can handle it!" he moved his arm to the back of the couch as you rolled your eyes, muttering "more like you're extra as fuck." under your breath.

you assumed that he heard it because then, he got quiet for a second before he nodded. "okay that too,". he couldn't deny it. he loved making a spectacle out of everything, wanted to keep the audience on the edge of their seats and wanting more -- that was kenny. an incredible athlete, yes, but he's also an entertainer. it was the complete opposite of the person he wanted to have a certain type of match with, jon moxley.

kenny liked to build things up, leave clues here and there to let people know that yes, something is going to happen, but when? whatever it was that kenny had up his sleeve was something people paying attention already expected, but they erupt in chants all the same. the slow build up to the crescendo of emotions and action was what he lived for. you often teased him for being a geek, theater kid, and jock all in one, but then he would remind you of the fact that's what you love about him and you would shut up because it's absolutely true.

kenny's affinity for the dramatics and theatrical performances was absolutely not moxley. he would - and have done several times - just randomly do things. he didn't bother to drop hits onto the audience, he just did what he wanted. he was the type to randomly show up to an indy show with fifty six fans in attendance completely unannounced. that was the thrill of working with him, his creativity and spontaneity.

another big difference is their style of wrestling. kenny may be what you think of when you hear the word wrestler. suplexes and chops and knee strikes, the occasional rise of the terminator that would always take your breath away whenever you saw it, and moxley was a brawler who has seen his fair share of street fights and deathmatches. he's even won the lights out unsanctioned match at full gear 2019. this is why you don't understand the reason as to why kenny is suggesting what he is right now, or why he even thinks this is a good idea.

"you want to have an exploding barbwire deathmatch with jon moxley simply because you want to be extra?" your head was in your hands now and you peeked up at him from between your fingers. seeing his grin and hearing the slow yes slip out of his lips made you want to throw your head back and scream.

"well y'know, it's also to prove that i can beat him in his own game, but being extra isn't bad either." he shrugged as if that made it better. there were so many ways and so many match stipulations he could have gone with which would still have been able to prove that he could hang with moxley in any style of wrestling but of course, he chose the scary one.

"i swear to god if you die," you spoke lowly. perhaps you were a bit dramatic too, and perhaps that was the reason you and kenny was such good friends. either way, he just laughed at your comment, throwing his head back as he did so. "[y/n], i'm not gonna die." he snorted and you let out an exhausted exhale, completely speechless at him because you knew how stubborn he was. this was, unfortunately, happening.

"sooo is that a yes?" you didn't even have time to process what he said before he pecked your lips and ran out of the locker room, dashing down the hallway, probably going toward the ring to go challenge moxley. "you're the best!"