╰─▸ ❝ Twisted Wonderland x reader!
featuring — Ace : Deuce : Leona : Ruggie : Jack : Floyd : Jamil : Epel.
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Ace dashed across the court, dribbling with that cocky grin of his, clearly showing off. You stood up, cupped your hands, and shouted, “GO BABY!” at the top of your lungs. His eyes widened, and he almost tripped over his own feet, but he quickly recovered, trying to act cool, flashing you a thumbs-up, but his ears were red.
Every time he scored, you could see that little smirk tug at his lips, but his ears betrayed him, still flushed red. You waved wildly from the stands, shouting, “THAT’S MY BABY!” loud enough for half the court to hear. Ace nearly fumbled again, but he pushed through, grinning wider. He started showing off more. All because you were watching. Every point seemed less about the game and more about proving he was worth every bit of your loud cheer.
Deuce lined up at the starting point, serious and focused, eyes narrowed with determination. The signal fired, and he shot off like lightning, sprinting down the track. You leaned forward and shouted, “GO BABY!” over the roar of the crowd. His steps faltered for a split second, his face flushing red, but he pushed harder, teeth gritted, eyes sharpened, and he picked up speed, embarrassed yet motivated.
He clearly wasn’t used to that kind of cheer, but instead of slowing down, it made him more determined. By the time he crossed the finish line, his chest was heaving, and his face was flushed. You waved both arms high and yelled, “THAT’S MY BABY!” without shame, earning a few chuckles from the crowd. Deuce’s blush deepened, but when he looked at you, there was a small, genuine smile, one that showed just how much your support meant to him.
Leona flew with lazy ease. When the game started, he moved with effortless grace, batting spells aside with barely a flick. You stood up from your seat and shouted without hesitation, “GO BABY!” His ears twitched, and he threw you an unimpressed look from the distance, though the corner of his mouth twitched upward.
From then on, he started playing harder, not because he needed to, but because he knew you were watching, your loud cheer seemed to stroke his ego. When you waved your arms and shouted, “THAT’S MY BABY!” across the field, his tail flicked with amusement. Every move he made after that had a little extra flare, showing off just how easy it was for him. By the end, he was clearly dragging out his play just to keep your attention longer, basking in the fact that you were cheering for him above anyone else.
Ruggie darted through the air on his broom, dodging spells with tricks. You cupped your hands around your mouth and yelled, “GO BABY!” His broom wobbled for a split second before he steadied himself, and you saw his cheeks turn red even from a distance.
Still, he laughed it off, giving a little wave your way before pulling another sneaky maneuver to score. You stood up and shouted, “THAT’S MY BABY!” while waving excitedly from the stands. His blush deepened, but he grinned wide, flashing that toothy smile of his. The cheer had clearly embarrassed him, but also lit a fire under him. He played sharper, quicker, outsmarting his opponents. Each point he scored, he made sure to glance at you with that mischievous sparkle in his eyes. By the time the match was over, you knew he would tease you later, but deep down, he had loved every second of your loud support.
Jack crouched down at the starting line, muscles tense, eyes sharp with determination. The signal fired, and he charged forward with powerful strides. You cupped your hands and shouted, bold and proud, “GO BABY!” so loud the other runners glanced your way. His ears shot up, and his tail stiffened, but he didn’t stop.
Despite being flustered, his pace didn’t slow. If anything, he pushed harder, determined not to let anyone see him thrown off. You waved both arms high and shouted, “THAT’S MY BABY!” with no shame, your voice cutting through the noise of the crowd, as he neared the finish. His face burned red by the time he crossed the line, and though he tried to avoid your eyes, his ears stayed perked, secretly waiting for more. He would never admit it, but that single shout had made his heart race faster than the sprint itself.
Floyd was already bouncing around the court, grinning ear to ear. The moment the game picked up, you hollered, “GO BABY!” loud enough for everyone to hear. Floyd froze mid-step, blinked, then let out a loud laugh. “Shrimpy~! That was sooo cute!” he sang across the court, drawing the attention of both teams.
After that, every play he made seemed aimed at impressing you. You waved both arms and shouted, “THAT’S MY BABY!” which only made him light up even brighter, his grin stretching wide. He stole the ball, dunked with reckless energy, and kept shouting back things like, “Did ya see that, baby~?” The crowd was half amused, half concerned, but Floyd was just having the time of his life. He wasn’t even playing for points anymore. He was playing for you, fueled by the simple cheer that had made his day. (And his teammates were very grateful).
Jamil was calm and composed, weaving through the court with precision, his eyes always calculating. Then your voice broke the rhythm, loud and unrestrained, “GO BABY!” His steps faltered just slightly, the ball nearly slipping from his grip as his head jerked your way. His face flushed red, though he quickly masked it with a glare.
For the rest of the game, his movements were sharper, quicker, almost like he was trying to prove himself to you. You stood and waved, shouting, “THAT’S MY BABY!” with so much pride that even the other players glanced over. Jamil’s jaw tightened, and though he rolled his eyes, his blush deepened, betraying him. Every point he made seemed followed by a flick of his eyes in your direction, as if silently asking if you had seen. He looked annoyed on the outside, but deep down, you knew he would carry that cheer with him for the rest of the day. By the end, he gave you a long look, half exasperated, half secretly pleased.
Epel zoomed across the field on his broom, fierce determination burning in his eyes as he proved himself against taller, stronger players. Your voice rang out, clear and proud, “GO BABY!” His broom wobbled for a moment, and his face went pink, but he quickly steadied himself, jaw set stubbornly.
Fueled by your cheer, he threw himself into the game even harder, weaving through spells with speed and grit. You stood and waved excitedly, shouting, “THAT’S MY BABY!” with all the pride in the world, making his blush deepened. Each successful move made him puff his chest out just a little more, clearly showing off. By the end, when he soared past his opponent to score, he looked your way with a grin, small, proud, and grateful that you were cheering for him.
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⋆˚꩜.ᐟ Supportive Lover core 😝🔥
