kiel

[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 *ੈ✩‧₊˚

✶ pt8|| pt7

“I’m coming over tonight.” 

The words were so sudden that you almost dropped your pen. You glanced up from your notes. “Wait, what?” 

Midorima didn’t look up from his book. “My parents are in town. They're visiting. Yours invited them to dinner. I’m coming with them.” 

You blinked. “You’re eating dinner at my house?”

He adjusted his glasses. “I always do when our families meet.”

“Yeah, but that's usually like… once every two years. Like New Years or something. This is random.” 

“It’s not random. It’s scheduled.” His voice was stuff. “And it was your mother’s idea.” 

You stared at him. 

He was being weirder than usual.

Your mom practically sparkled when she opened the door that evening. 

“Oh, Shintarou! It’s been so long. You’ve grown even taller!”

Midorima gave a polite practiced bow you’d seen him do a dozen times. “Thank you for having me.” 

You peeked from behind her shoulder, waving. 

His mother and father stepped inside with all the quiet dignity you remembered– polite smiles, refined movements, everything perfectly proper. 

And then Midorima stepped out of his shoes and handed you something. 

A wrapped box. 

“Today’s lucky item,” he muttered. “A red ceramic bowl.” 

“You’re giving it to me?”

“I don’t need it for the rest of the day.” Because he was with you now. 

He didn’t meet your eyes. 

Dinner was nice. 

Familiar.

The conversation between your parents flowed easily, as it always did, it was filled with nostalgic laughter and stories from when the two of you were kids running around in the backyard. 

“He used to cry when you scraped your knees,” his mom mentioned mid-meal with a fond smile. “He ran all the way home because he was worried you would die.” 

Midorima cleared his throat, “that was years ago.”

You looked up from your food at him. 

“You bled a lot,” he muttered. “It was alarming.”

“Aw. You were worried.” 

“...”

The table laughed, but your heart twinged at the memory. You hadn’t known that. 

After dinner, you offered to walk him home. 

Silence stretched between you and you felt your pulse tick up. You weren’t sure if it was the quiet, or the warmth of dinner, or the way the streetlight caught the faintest pink rising in Midorima’s ears. 

But something about this moment felt different. 

Like maybe, just maybe, you weren’t quite standing in the same spot you always had. 

[kiellite]

Written in the Stars *ੈ✩‧₊˚

✶ pt7|| pt6

Yamashita didn’t back down. 

If anything, he doubled down. It was small things at first– finding excuses to walk with you between classes, sharing snacks during lunch, and casually complimenting your smile loud enough for others to hear. You laughed most of it off. You weren’t used to being flirted with, and Yamashita made it easy to pretend it was all harmless. 

But someone wasn’t laughing. 

Midorima watched it all with thinly veiled displeasure. He never said anything, not directly. But you noticed the way his brows creased when Yamashita waved at you across the courtyard. How he stopped waiting at the gates when you arrived in the morning and instead already had his nose in a book like he didn’t see you coming. 

You were used to his moods, so you didn’t think too much of it. Maybe he was just in one of those hyper-focused phases. 

But Takao noticed. 

“Ohhh no,” he whispered behind his hand as he caught Midorima staring daggers at Yamashita again. “He’s unraveling.”

“Shut up,” Midorima snapped. 

That afternoon, Yamashita showed up again. 

Right after practice, same as before. 

“Hey,” He called, jogging toward you as you waved goodbye to Coach. “I was hoping you’d come grab takoyaki with me. I know a place nearby.”

You blinked. “Oh, um–”

“She can’t,” Midorima cut in. He was standing behind you now, towel over his shoulders, hair still damp from a post-practice rinse. 

Yamashita raised a brow. “I wasn’t asking you.”

Midorima stepped forward. “She has a horoscope analysis to help me with. It’s important.”

You turned slowly. “I… what?”

He didn’t look at you. “It affects the rest of the week’s training schedule. I need her. Now.” 

Yamashita gave an annoyed half-laugh. “Is this, like, a weird team thing or–?”

“No,” Midorima said. “It’s a me thing.”

There was a pause.

Then awkwardly, Yamashita raised his hands in mock surrender. “Alright, alright. Another time, then.” 

You stood frozen in place until he left. 

Then you turned to Midorima. “Since when do I do horoscope analysis for your training schedule?” 

He adjusted his glasses. “Since now.”

“...Did you just make up an excuse to keep me from going with him?”

He didn’t answer– again. 

He sighed and finally said, “He’s reckless. His rising sign is an Aries. That kind of temperament doesn’t align with your long-term stability.” 

You blinked. “You… looked up his rising sign?”

Silence.

A beat passed. 

You broke into a fit of laughter. 

Midorima crossed his arms but didn’t deny it. 

You were still laughing when you both walked home– the rubber duck squeaking lightly in his grip with every step. You thought he was just being Midorima again. 

You didn’t realize how hard he was gripping that duck. 

[kiellite]

Written in the Stars *ੈ✩‧₊˚

✶ pt6|| pt5

The day started the same as always.

Midorima waited at the gate. You greeted him with a sleepy smile and handed him his lucky item of the day— a pencil sharpener shaped like a cat.

…

”Hey..”

You looked up from your desk. A tall by from class 1-B— you vaguely recognized him from track meets— leaned against the edge of your table with an easy grin.

”I’m Yamashita. You’re always with the basketball team, right?”

You nodded

”They must like having you around… are you free this weekend?”

You paused, startled. “Sorry— what?”

Yamashita laughed. “I just figured I’d ask. I’ve had my eye on you for a little while now, and I don’t see you around that much.”

From across the room, Midorima’s pencil snapped in half.

Literally.

Takao, seated beside him, peered over. “…Shin-chan?”

Midorima didn’t answer. Just calmly stood up, grabbed his bag, and walked to the trash can with rigid posture. He threw the pencil away like it had personally betrayed him.

Later that afternoon, as you helped clean up after practice, Yamashita showed up at the gym doors again. 

You tilted your head. “You lost?”

”Nope. Just wanted to see if you were free now.” His eyes flicked to the gym. “I figured I could walk you home.”

You opened your mouth to answer— but you didn’t get the chance. “She isn’t”

Midorima’s voice rang out from the locker room door, sharp and flat. 

Yamashita raised an eyebrow. “And you are…?”

”I’m her ride,” Midorima lied flatly. 

You blinked. “Wait—“

He grabbed your bag before you could finish, slinging it over his shoulder. “Let’s go.”

You trailed behind him in a stunned silence as he walked briskly ahead of you, jaw tight, glasses flashing in the setting sun. 

“You… good?” You finally asked. 

“I don’t like him,” he muttered. 

You laughed. “Why? He seems nice.”

“He’s not compatible… He’s a sagittarius.”

“You checked?”

He didn’t answer and you sighed, “You’re so weird sometimes.”

You glanced back up at him, “...Are you jealous?” With a small hint of hope in your tone. 

“No.”

His answer came out immediately, it was too fast and too sharp. 

You shook your head and brushed the idea away, deciding it was stupid. 

But Midorima didn’t correct you again. 

He just stayed walking beside you– still always the same distance apart. 

Except you could feel the space between you guys growing heavier.

[kiellite]

ೃ༄ (˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶)🍀(≖_≖ ) Midorima Fics ꕤ𓂃 ࣪˖

Written in the Stars *ੈ✩‧₊˚

ꕤ. part 1 ꕤ. part 2 ꕤ. part 3 ꕤ. part 4 ꕤ. part 5

[kiellite]

Written in the Stars *ੈ✩‧₊˚

✶ pt5|| pt4

You returned on Monday.

Fever gone, voice mostly recovered, and walking a little slower than usual, but you were finally back. You waved at the front gate as you spotted him waiting— just like always— arms crossed, bag over one shoulder, textbook tucked into his elbow. 

Midorima didn’t say anything when he saw you. Not immediately.

Just a glance up and down. “You shouldn’t be walking around yet.”

You brushed him off.

He didn’t answer, just turned and started walking— a little slower than usual so that you could keep up. 

At lunch you found the frog keychain back in your bag. You blinked, picking it up. 

“Huh.. I thought I forgot this.”

Midorima didn’t look up from his book. “You did. I kept it.”

”Oh. Did it help?”

”No.”

That was all he said. But his hand was resting on the desk, just barely brushing against the edge of your tray. Like he was anchoring himself there, making sure you were really next to him again. 

At practice, everyone acted like things were back to normal.

You sat in your usual spot, clipboard in hand, timing drills, and hearing out water bottles. Coach gave you a soft “Glad you’re back,” and Takao tossed you a smile mid-lap.

”He wouldn’t say it,” Takao whispered while stretching, “but Shin-chan nearly broke the score board with how off he was. It was tragic.”

Midorima glared from across the court. “I think you ought not to lie.”

Later that afternoon, when you were packing up and waving goodbye, Midorima stopped you at the door. 

“Wait.”

You turned. “What’s up?”

He held out a mirror. 

“I won’t need this tomorrow,” he muttered. “So keep it.”

You tucked the item in your pocket, smiling. 

You didn’t notice the way he watched you walk away— eyes lingering like he was memorizing your steps. Like some part of him still didn’t believe you were really back. 

[kiellite]

Written in the Stars *ੈ✩‧₊˚

✶ pt4|| pt3

You were sick.

Midorima noticed the absence immediately.

The spot by the gym door was empty. 

He always arrived a few minutes early— more out of principle than expectation— but today, when the clock hit practice time and you still hadn’t appeared, something in his routine felt… off. 

He checked his phone. No messages.

He scrolled through your chat history. Nothing since last night. Just a casual “See you tomorrow” followed by your usual goodnight emoji. There was no reason to worry.

Except you were never late.

He kept glancing at the gym entrance during warm-ups and missing shots he never missed. 

“You good?” Takao asked 

“I’m fine.”

But he wasn’t

You weren’t in the stands. You were holding his lucky item. 

Practice ended in a blur. Coach said something, but Midorima barely heard it. His gaze kept drifting towards the empty bleachers, the silence where your voice should’ve been. By the time he left the gym, he’d already run through the possible reasons in his head: missed the bus, family emergency, overslept. Each one made him walk a little faster, fingers twitching at his sides.

He called you. Once. Twice. 

No answer. 

By the third try, his stomach twisted. 

You weren’t careless. You weren’t forgetful. You always told him everything.

He was already halfway to your house when your name lit up on his phone.

Sorrrrryyyy!! I forgot to text you but I’m sick and didn’t want to m. pass it on to you guys

He stared at the message.

That was it?

You were sick, and you forgot to tell him?

He called you immediately.

You picked up on the second ring, your voice hoarse but light. “Hey, sorry— my fever spiked last night and I didn’t have the energy to get my phone.”

“You should’ve told me.” His voice was sharper than he intended 

You coughed. “I didn’t want to worry you.”

”I am worried.”

There was silence on your end. Then a soft laugh. “Yeah, okay. That’s fair.”

He exhaled slowly, pressing his hand to his temple. 

“I’m fine, Shin. Just a day or two. I’ll be back before you know it.”

He wanted to tell you to rest, to eat properly, to drink something warm, to stop sounding so casual about it. 

But all he said was, “You forgot to bring home the lucky item.”

You laughed again. “You actually kept it with you?”

”…It didn’t work.”

He could hear you smile through the phone.

And he realized something- something he didn’t want to say out loud yet:

The lucky item wasn’t just the wooden frog tucked away in his bag.

It was you.

[kiellite]

Written in the Stars *ੈ✩‧₊˚

✶ pt3|| pt2

The gym was quiet after practice, the others gone, the lights dimmed. You sat on the floor near the bench, back against the wall and legs stretched out in front of you. The turtle keychain sat in your palm, its little black bead-eyes staring up at you like it had something important to say. 

“You’re staying behind again?” Midorima’s voice cut through the silence. 

You looked up, “I always stay behind.”

He adjusted his glasses, shifting the grip on his bag. “It’s inefficient. You could leave with the others.” 

“But you’d have to walk home alone with your weird little trinkets.”

You didn’t catch it, but his expression softened for a moment. 

You used to walk home like this all the time. Side by side. Always the same distance apart. Ever since you were five. 

You could still remember that day— the first time he insisted on walking with you. 

You were clutching a small astrology book from the library, excitedly talking about star signs. “See? You’re Cancer, and I’m—“

”Leo”

You beamed, “Yeah! And Leo and Cancer are super compatible. See? It says we make a good team.”

Midorima didn’t say anything at the time. He just walked beside you, one step behind, eyes on the ground. But the next day, he came to school with a borrowed astrology book tucked under his arm. One he never mentioned, never showed anyone. 

That was how it always was with him. 

No big gestures. Just quiet patterns forming over the years. Like how he always waited at the gate until you arrived. How he made sure you had a seat near him during lunch. How he never said the word friend out loud, but made sure no one else sat in your spot during games.

Back then, you thought he was just… like that.

Now, you still thought the same, Midorima has always been complicated. 

But you were used to his silence. His ways. The way he handed you lucky items like passing off something as ordinary as a pen. You didn’t question it anymore. 

You walked home in that same old rhythm. Always the same distance apart. 

A/N..

i have the whole fic finished on my google docs but im forgetting to upload oops (´͈  ᵕ `͈ ）

[kiellite]

childhood friends to lovers is my fav trope of all time UGHHH I LOVE TO SEE MUTUAL PINING PLSSSS

[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]

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.