CRICKETER BOYFRIEND
Pairing ABHISHEK SHARMA X READER
The atmosphere inside the Narendra Modi Stadium was absolutely electric. The final wicket had just fallen, the fireworks were lighting up the night sky, and the roar of the crowd was vibrating right through the concrete. It was a massive win for India, and right in the center of the pitch, Abhishek was being lifted onto the shoulders of his teammates.
But even with the chaotic celebrations, the flashing cameras, and thousands of fans chanting his name, Abhishek’s eyes did what they always did the exact second a match ended. He ignored the cameras and started scanning the VIP pavilion.
The moment he spotted you leaning over the railing, waving frantically with a massive smile on your face, his entire demeanor changed. The intense, aggressive match-face completely dissolved, replaced by the widest, most helpless grin.
"Look at him," Ishan laughed, nudging Shubman as they walked off the field toward the dugout. "Bhai, matches jeetne ke baad bhi iska focus wahi hota hai. Look at him smiling like a fool."
Shubman chuckled, waving back up at you before clapping Abhishek on the back. "Abey, dekh lo usko, nahi toh agle match mein performance drop ho jayegi. Remember last month?"
You certainly remembered. You had missed just one domestic match to sit for a university exam, and Abhishek had ended up getting out for a duck. During the post-match interview, when the presenter asked about his sudden dip in form, Abhishek had sighed heavily into the mic and said, "Yeah, actually, my lucky charm wasn't in the stands today. Some things are just out of your control."
You had text-scolded him for it the second he got back to the dressing room, telling him he couldn't just blame you on national television for a bad shot selection. But he had simply replied with a flurry of terrible rain-delay memes and a text: 'Facts are facts, Y/N. No you in the stands, no runs on the board. Meri koi galti nahi hai.'
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Later that evening, the team hosted a celebratory dinner in the hotel’s private dining hall. You arrived a bit late, wearing a pair of casual jeans and a massively oversized team jersey. It was technically Abhishek’s—one you had "borrowed" during the South Africa tour and completely refused to return. The sleeves came past your knuckles, and his name and number were plastered across your back.
As you walked into the room, Abhishek’s eyes lit up instantly. He pulled out the chair right next to him.
"Yeh meri jersey hai na?" he asked, a smirk playing on his lips as you sat down. "I’ve been looking for this for three weeks, Y/N."
"It's mine now," you said smoothly, adjusting the collar. "Waise bhi, tum par yeh tight hoti hai. It looks much better on me."
"Haan, haan, thik hai," he muttered, though he was secretly thrilled. He reached over, naturally draping his arm over the back of your chair, pulling you just a little bit closer. "Waise, tum 14th over mein itna tension kyun le rahi thi? I told you my ankle was fine."
"Abhishek, you went down hard on the field! Mujhe toh laga fracture ho gaya," you said, turning to face him, your eyebrows furrowed. He had suffered a minor tweak while fielding, and you had nearly had a heart attack watching from the stands.
"Dekha? Maine bola tha na," Nitish chimed in from across the table, grinning widely over his drink. "He loves the injury scare, Y/N. He spent half of the physio session asking the staff if the cameras caught his 'brave recovery' because he wanted to look like a hero for you."
"Abey saale, chup kar," Abhishek laughed, picking up a crumpled cloth napkin and throwing it accurately at Nitish’s face. "Kuch bhi mat fek."
The dinner carried on with plenty of loud laughing, inside jokes, and Ishan actively trying to steal food from everyone else's plates. Because Abhishek had been your best friend long before the two of you ever started dating, transitioning into the team circle had been incredibly easy. In fact, he had been hopelessly in love with you for years before he finally gathered the courage to say anything—a fact that the entire squad knew and loved to tease him about.
"Hey, Y/N," Ishan called out loudly, leaning across the table and interrupting Shubman. "Ek baat batao, destination wedding ka kya scene hai? Are we going to Europe, or are you keeping it local? Because Shubman, Nitish and I need to sort out our training schedule."
You blinked, nearly choking on your water. "The... what? Wedding?"
Shubman immediately kicked Ishan under the table, coughing loudly. "Arey pagal hai kya, Ishan? Thoda toh dimaag chalaya kar!"
"What?" you looked between them, then turned to Abhishek, who had suddenly become incredibly interested in staring at his dessert plate. "What wedding? What is he talking about?"
"Oh, toh tumhe abhi tak nahi pata?" Nitish laughed, completely ignoring Shubman’s warning glares. "Y/N, the entire team has been calling you 'bhabhi' and his future spouse since the Australia tour. Yeh banda literally 24/7 tumhare baare mein baat karta hai."
"Nitish, stop exaggerating," Abhishek mumbled, his ears turning a bright shade of red.
"No, seriously!" Nitish continued, leaning in. "Last week, a reporter asked him what keeps him grounded despite all the sudden fame and money. And instead of saying 'my parents' or 'my cricket,' he immediately started talking about you. 'Y/N mujhe zameen par rakhti hai, ghaas phoos khilati hai.' He didn't even realize he was smiling like an absolute idiot until the whole press room started giggling and teasing him."
You turned your head slowly to look at Abhishek, raising an eyebrow. "A five-minute interview response about me?"
Abhishek glared at his friends, his cheeks burning. "Bhai, yeh log bohot phek rahe hain. It was barely a two-minute answer. Tops. And I was just being honest."
"He practically has the venue booked in his head, Y/N," Ishan added helpfully, ducking as Abhishek threw a spoon at him.
"Bachcho ke naam bhi decide karlo.", Shubman snorted while being punched by Abhishek.
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Eventually, the noise and the teasing became too much, and the two of you slipped out of the dining room, finding refuge on the quiet, dimly lit hotel balcony that overlooked the city skyline. The cool night air was a welcome relief from the humid stadium and the chaotic energy of the team.
You leaned against the railing, wrapping the oversized jersey tighter around yourself to ward off the chill. "So... future spouse, huh?"
Abhishek came to stand right beside you, rubbing the back of his neck, looking uncharacteristically shy. The confident cricketer who just destroyed a world-class bowling attack was nowhere to be seen.
"Baby, the guys have absolutely no filter," he said softly, looking out at the city lights. "But... they aren't exactly wrong about how I feel."
He turned his body toward you, his expression softening completely. "Mazaak se hatkar, when I was at the airport returning from the long tour last month, the only thing keeping me going was knowing you’d be at arrivals. The second I saw you waiting there, I completely forgot about dignity. I just wanted to sprint across the terminal and hold you."
He reached out, his fingers gently tangling with yours. "Win ho ya loss, zero par out hoon ya century maaru, you're the only person who treats me exactly the same. So yeah. Main baat karta hoon tumhare baare mein. Because you're my favorite part of my life."
You looked up at him, your heart melting just a little bit at the honesty in his eyes. You squeezed his hand tightly.
"Fine," you smiled, a soft laugh escaping your lips. "I'll let you off the hook for talking to the press. But you better play well next week. Mujhe fir sey national TV par blame nahi jhelna."
"Deal," Abhishek laughed, pulling you into a warm, tight hug, his chin resting on top of your head. "But only if you wear my jersey to every single match."
Girlssss, this is my first fic which is not related to dhurandhar. So please tell me how did I do?
BTW this fic is a gift for this cutie @sheeulie
ANOTHER REQ.FIC IS ALSO COMING TONIGHT...
30 mins mein banaya hai, so pls don't mind any mistakes
and i know it's short but pls ignore the length
Tagging my usual dhurandhar readers, pls ignore if you're not into cricket: @twinblueflamee @precioussophia @iamadelusionalwriter @athena-roy @maroonphase @adityami @bobcuts-blog @yembarzal @365daywritingchallenge @gehra-hua @marvelfamily3000 @gulaabjamun08 @granddynamonovajbvgjjj @pixiiiiiiiiidust @majoriqbalkibiwi @seasonofthenerd @donatogary22 @starrysugargrace @prettyprettypleaseplease @ooopssssu @mainyahaankyunhoon @not-aviii @yearnerray @cherryyelixir @debsreads21 @ninnimouse @cloudyparadoxqueen @misteriadare @gehra-hua @hersatanicmajestysshit @kisswithknife @tere-naal-nachna @sinnoire @tojisloft @tessa-bl @prahelika-fics @neelom @idonthavechatpateusernamed @crimsontraditiongolem @multimedia @crispydreamrelic @saniisinsane @mrgrungusthefrog @akshayekhannamerehai @lookathelilac @luvvkk @obsessedwidskincare @yearnerray @sanpiece @tere-naal-nachna @pleasetagmejaaneman
