14 Works by hazlehoff (johnbiwatson)
Listing Works
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i never know what to think about (i think about you) by hazlehoff (johnbiwatson)
Fandoms: Cricket RPF
30 Jan 2026
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Summary
National duties. Managing workload. A strategic calendar.
Those words acted as a shield, polished to a deceptive gleam through eight years of constant use. Mitchell Starc offered them to journalists, friends, and the ghost of himself that gazed back from the spotless windows of his Sydney apartment.
That was the official story, neat and professional. But in the silent solitude of a morning like this, with sunlight lying across the minimalistic space of his living area like a gilded shroud, the truth was a living, breathing creature in his chest.
The truth had a name, and it was a flavour on his tongue that carried the memory of both sanctuary and ruin.
Virat Kohli.
Series
- Part 9 of Cricket One-shots
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i'll be your man if you got love to get done by hazlehoff (johnbiwatson)
Fandoms: Cricket RPF
07 Jan 2026
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Summary
It began, as many moments in cricket do, with a subtle observation from the boundary line.
In 2022, when Josh Hazlewood first wore the red and black of Royal Challengers Bangalore, the atmosphere in their training camp buzzed with a familiar, unmistakable energy: Virat Kohli's gravitational pull. And from a distance, Josh observed.
Series
- Part 8 of Cricket One-shots
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secrets i have held in my heart, are harder to hide than i thought by hazlehoff (johnbiwatson) for avachan08
Fandoms: Cricket RPF
05 Jan 2026
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Summary
God, look at him, Mitch’s mind whispered, a frantic, starry-eyed prayer. He’s a machine. A beautiful, relentless machine. His eyes followed Josh’s walk back to his mark, the way his whites clung to the sweat-dampened muscles of his back, the focused set of his shoulders. Every fibre of Mitch’s being was attuned to the man in the centre.
Pat Cummins saw the way Mitch looked at Josh – not with petty envy of a rival, but with raw, unguarded hunger. It was a look that stripped away all pretence, and it made Pat’s breath catch.
But his gaze then shifted to Josh, the architect of this madness, and the punch softened into a wave of deep, warm admiration. He harboured a strong, lasting affection for Josh. He admired his composed calm, his dry wit that could cut through any tension, the quiet, unwavering strength that seemed to be his very essence. Hoff, he thought, a tenderness easing the sting of his envy. Of course, it would be you. You magnificent bastard. You’re the rock. The one we all orbit.
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it cannot wait, i'm yours by hazlehoff (johnbiwatson) for avachan08, childofthenight2035
Fandoms: Cricket RPF
24 Dec 2025
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Summary
In that moment, with Virat docile and smiling in his arms, Pat felt a hope so fierce it was a physical ache in his chest. They were right. He’d say yes. He’d say yes anywhere.
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ishq hua hi hua by hazlehoff (johnbiwatson) for childofthenight2035
Fandoms: Cricket RPF
23 Nov 2025
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Summary
They hadn’t meant to intrude. And Rishabh was not a believer in fate – his only impression of it was the bitter, tragic taste left after secretly reading Romeo & Juliet, a story of stars that crossed too violently.
But that afternoon, as he stood in the gloom of the doorway, his world suddenly shrank.
The vast auditorium was a cavern of swallowed light, except for the single, blazing eye of a spotlight that illuminated the stage. And within that perfect, burning circle stood a man.
The light did more than just illuminate him; it sculpted his form. It accentuated the sharp line of his jaw, the confident posture of his shoulders, and the elegant sweep of his hand as he demonstrated a point to the actors gathered around him.
That was Rohit Sharma, a legend approaching his final year and the undisputed star director of the university’s prestigious theatre society. From a distance, Rishabh had always perceived him as a figure of untouchable, quiet royalty. But up close, even from the back row, Rohit was a force of nature. His presence was physical, a quiet gravity that held the entire room in orbit.
Series
- Part 7 of Cricket One-shots
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Summary
Virat Kohli. Superstar of the game. Indian Captain. One of the best batters in the world.
Pat Cummins. Wunderkind slowly cementing his place back into the Australian side after a long battle with injury.
They live an ocean apart, yet keep getting drawn to each other in ways they cannot seem to understand.
Nothing about this makes sense. But as they say, all is fair in love and sports.
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An RPF on their journey in cricket over the last few years, intertwined with some rivals-to-lovers for the intended audience of one (me).
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dil le geya koi by hazlehoff (johnbiwatson) for childofthenight2035
Fandoms: Cricket RPF
01 Nov 2025
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Summary
his batting is nothing like mine. where i want to send the ball into orbit, he seems to have a quiet conversation with it, guiding it along the ground with this effortless grace. after his session, i bumped his shoulder and said, “very grounded you are, huh.” he laughed, and – his dimples. wow.
anyway. i’m getting distracted. i should stop.
but i think he’s right. i think we can open the batting for india together one day. i think our games fit together, like two pieces of a puzzle.
see you tomorrow, diary. good night.
Series
- Part 6 of Cricket One-shots
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No, Josh thought, a protective instinct flaring within him. It’s too soon to speak of that. Too raw. After all, it was objectively true: this was his last international match on this ground. The very stadium that had helped forge his legacy was now giving him a final farewell etched in a pair of zeros.
Hoff wondered whether this was poetic justice or if Virat was simply one of those tragic, classical heroes from myths – the sort who reach the highest peaks only for the Gods to carefully tear everything down as the final act.
Series
- Part 5 of Cricket One-shots
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In a moment of spite, Pat Cummins told his ex-situationship and current IPL teammate that he would attend their wedding with a date of his own.
Problem? None of his teammates were free to join him, except the one Cummins had been hopelessly falling in love with for the past five years.
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Shubman’s eyes flicked to his watch — 11:59 pm. His gaze then drifted back to Abhishek, who was reenacting a prank from earlier that day, his hands animated in the air. Shubman was no longer listening to the words, only to the sound. He was captivated by the rhythm of Abhay’s giggles, each one a bright, bubbling note in the night’s silence.
It’s the most beautiful sound I’ve ever heard, he thought.
And in that suspended moment, as the clock in his mind struck midnight, the gentle lap of waves and Abhishek’s laughter intertwined. Moonlight illuminated the rain-damp sheen on Abhay’s flushed cheeks, and Shubman swore he could have leaned forward and kissed him.
He should have kissed him anyway.
Series
- Part 4 of Cricket One-shots
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David took a tentative bite. The salty, pungent flavour struck him like a dead end.
It tastes like concentrated, salty regret. But he’s watching me with those eager puppy-dog eyes, his whole being radiating hopeful expectation. As if my opinion on fermented yeast extract is the most important review he’ll ever receive.
I’d probably eat an entire jar if it meant he’d keep looking at me like I’m this fascinating.
Series
- Part 3 of Cricket One-shots
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Siraj watched him, his dark eyes burning with a fierce devotion that seemed almost tangible. “You should not do this,” he murmured. “A prince tending to a soldier.”
“You are not just a soldier,” Shubman said, without looking up, his focus on the precise wrap of the bandage. “You never have been.”
He completed his work, but his fingers remained on Siraj’s wrist, softly feeling the steady, life-sustaining beat of his pulse. It was a quiet confession of its own.
Siraj turned his hand, interlacing their fingers. “This anger of yours… it is a luxury that will cost us everything tomorrow.”
Series
- Part 2 of Cricket One-shots
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Summary
Hardik’s mouth was hot and sure against his, tasting of whiskey, mint, and pure, unadulterated desire. Rahul’s hands, which had been clenched at his sides, rose to fist in Hardik’s jacket, holding on for dear life as the world seemed to tilt on its axis.
Rahul kissed back with a fervour that shocked himself, a hunger he didn’t know he possessed. It was wrong, it was sinful, and it was everything he’d been taught to fear. Yet in that moment, it was the only thing that had ever felt completely, devastatingly right.
Hardik exuded rebellion and freedom, and for a fleeting moment, Rahul forgot to feel afraid.
Series
- Part 1 of Cricket One-shots
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“Pat, a question on Virat Kohli. There are rumours this could be his last Test tour here. What would it mean to you, as an opponent, if that were the case?”
Virat pulled the towel away from his face and watched, his heart a stone. He noticed the tiny flinch that was unrecognisable to the rest of the world.
“It’s always been a wonderful contest,” Pat began diplomatically. “He brings a bit of theatre to the game…”
Theatre? Virat’s jaw clenched. Is that what he calls our ‘forever’? Just a bit of theatre? Is that what he calls the nights we talked until dawn? The way he’d sneak into my room just to hold me while I slept after a bad day? The way he learned to make chai because he knew it was comforting for me?