kiellite

[kiellite]

Written in the Stars *ੈ✩‧₊˚

✶ pt2|| pt1

You didn’t think much of it when Midorima missed shots during warmups.

It wasn’t often, but it happened. Maybe the air in the gym was off, maybe the lighting was weird, or maybe the team’s energy was just too chaotic that day. You weren’t a basketball expert though— just there to help when you could.

So when he missed four shots in a row— clean, open shots that he’d usually make without blinking— you quietly stood up from the bench, brushing off your skirt and picking up the little turtle keychain from your bag. Today’s lucky item. Plastic, green, smaller than usual.

You didn’t know if it made a difference or not, but it felt wrong for him not to have it nearby.

“Shintarou …” you called out softly, walking over and dangling the trinket on your index finger, “you forgot this.” 

He didn’t look at you. “I didn’t forget.” 

“…Okay. You’re still missing though”

“You’re holding it wrong.”

You blinked, “what?”

He glanced at you briefly. “It should be upright.”

You expected him to scoff, or mutter something from how luck was a result of preparation. Instead he just took the keychain from your hand— his fingers brushing against yours for half a second— and returned to the free-throw line 

You stayed near the sideline, watching as he lined up again.

He made the shot. Then another and another. 

Smooth, effortless, back to normal. 

“Guess the turtle was upside down,” You mumbled. 

Takao leaned in, “You sure it’s the turtle?”

”Huh?”

”Nevermind”

You didn’t notice how Midorima glanced your way after each successful shot. Or how, when the game ended, he slipped the keychain back into your bag without asking. 

To you, it was just part of the routine. 

To him, it was the only way he knew how to keep you close.

And for now… that was just the way things were. 

[kiellite]

Masterlist + Intro ‧₊˚ 🍮

hiii !! i usually draw fanart but sometimes i write fanfiction for things/tropes i cant find 💔💔 my fav fandoms are bleach, final fantasy, and knb ଘ(੭◌ˊᵕˋ)੭* ੈ♡‧₊˚

=͟͟͞♡ Kuroko's Basketball

Midorima x Reader

[kiellite]

Written in the Stars *ੈ✩‧₊˚

✶ pt1

You had been beside Midorima since you two were five. It started with scraped knees and juice boxes in the sandbox, when his glasses were too big for his face and he still had the habit of looking away when spoken to directly. Back then, you were the one who did the most of the talking— and truthfully, not much had changed. 

By the time you were both in high school, people had stopped questioning it. You were always there— on the edge of the court during practice, at his desk during breaks, and beside him during his walks home, holding his ridiculous lucky item of the day when he couldn’t fit them in his bag. Whether it was a wooden frog, a bottle of French mineral water, or a toy rocket ship, you carried it without complaint. You were as much a constant in Midorima’s life as the stars he read every night. 

He rarely said much beyond the practical— “You’re late,”, “Don’t touch that,”, “Horoscope said to avoid red today”— but he always looked for you in a crowd, always paused if you weren’t where you were supposed to be. Always carried an extra umbrella even when the forecast was sunny. 

You never asked why. 

Because in your own way, you understood: for all his logic and structure, Midorima Shintarou didn’t like to leave things to change. And for reasons he never put into words, he had decided long ago that you were a kind of constant he couldn’t afford to be without. 

Even now, as you sat together on the bench outside your classroom, watching the late afternoon light spill across the hallway, he wordlessly shifted his bag so you could sit closer. 

You looked at him. He was still reading from his horoscope site, still pushing his glasses up like he always did. 

“Shintarou,” you said lightly, “What’s today’s lucky item?” 

He didn’t look up.

”…A handheld vacuum cleaner,” He muttered.

You blinked, surprised. “…Please tell me you didn’t bring that to school.”

”I didn’t. You did.” He replied smoothly, cleaning at the small shopping bag by your feet— something he had asked you to pick up for him on the way to school. ]

You couldn’t help it. You laughed. Loud and full, the kind that earned a sharp look from your home room teacher down the hall. 

Midorima frowned, but you swore—- just for a second— you saw the corner of his mouth twitch. 

—

Midorima never said it out loud, but all his teammates knew. 

You were more than just a friend. More than just a girl that stuck around for too long, passing out towels, refilling water, or with a clipboard in hand to help the coach record information on the players. You were always there— and to Midorima, you had to be. 

Coach didn’t question it anymore. In the beginning, he tried. “She’s not part of the team,” He had said, arms crossed, stern gaze on Midorima as he arrived at practice dragging you along with him, a few steps behind. Always

“She’s holding today’s lucky item,” Midorima replied flatly.

You held up a small cactus in a ceramic pot like that was your badge of entry. Coach gave up after the third week and instead put you to use.

Even when the lucky item didn’t require it— even when it was something Midorima could easily carry himself— he still found a reason to have you come. “You need fresh air,” he’d say. “You’ll get lazy at home.” Or simply, “Practice. Let’s go.”

He never said you were his lucky item. He never said anything sentimental at all. But the way he always looked back if you weren’t right behind him— the way he seemed off balance if you were even a few minutes late— said enough for everyone 

“She not coming today?” Takao grinned, leaning around Midorima’s shoulder. “You gonna break your ankle or what?” 

“She’s not my talisman,” Midorima snapped without looking down at his shoelaces. But his hands paused. 

Takao only smirked.

From the bench, you offered a small wave and today’s lucky item: a small plush giraffe. 

You weren’t his talisman, not some magical object.

You were his habit— his anchor, his chosen constant, to him, even if he couldn’t admit it to himself yet… you were the piece that made the world spin around.

. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁