Leni

synopsis: Your Neighbors Socks go missing one by one. The prime suspect? Your hell spawn of a furr ball.

Miya Atsumu is in a Rush. Granted, as he had continuously pressed the Snoozebutton of his alarmclock, basking in the false allure of his cotton sheets in hopes of sleeping in.

His feigned ignorance and poor time management have come to bite him in his bum, stumbling out of bed in a hurry to collect the scattered contents of his gymbag he had oh so carelessly discarded in search of his earbuds last night.

His toothbrush dangles out of his mouth in the wierdest angle known to mankind as he prances onto his balcony like a complete madman.

His day couldn't have started off worse, the Setter figures, in frantic search for the pair of socks he had hung up to dry the previous eve.

He schouldn't have jinxed it in the morning he had stepped out of bed with the wrong foot. His socks are missing.

The furry menace nextdoor has beat him to collecting his laundry yet again.

When the blonde Setter first caught wind of the rumored laundry thief that's been plaguing the third floor of his apartment complex in downtown Osaka, he snickered in disbelief.

His lips quivered in an attempt to clamp them shut in order to refrain from bursting into a pig like wheeze as Miss Matsuda frantically rambles about her missing nightgown. Or when, not a week later, Mister Fujiwara grumbled to him about the absence of his favorite pair of trousers.

The prime suspect? The new resident of Apartment 308, his Nextdoor Neighbor: You.

However, the way they describe his new neighbor as a hairy little menace doesn’t seem to align with his vision of you in the slightest.

Because in all honesty you’re sweet, a Country Bumpkin turned College student in the bustling metropolis of Osaka.

There’s no way you’d taint your recently gained good reputation by climbing over the balconies of your neighborhood in order to steal laundry.

And, as far as he can remember from the numerous times he’s seen you entering and leaving your apartment, you’re not hairy.

He can’t help but chortle at the absurdity.

When his first pair of socks, the black nike ones he reserves for official matches, dissapears into thin air over night one saturday morning, he blames it on the morning fatigue.

By the time his next match comes around he thinks he might've lost it - both the the socks and his sanity-, a thought he can't seem to bear as his summer earth orbs rake the clothing rack on his balcony for any signs of the socks -the ones he claims to be his lucky charm- for the nth time that week.

Atsumu is four and a half pairs of socks and two shirts shorter when he decides to humor the old lady down the hallway by knocking at your door.

He still deems the whole "laundry thief" ordeal as a mere myth, a trifling fiction to excuse Miss Matsudas poor memory and Mister Fujiwaras temper.

The hallway is quiet. Too quiet, if you asked him. The only sounds that accompany his shuffling steps are the soft slap of his bare feet against the tiled floor and the faint jingle of the house key looped around his finger. He’s still half in disbelief he’s actually doing this: Knocking on his neighbor’s door. Over socks.

“Man,” he mutters under his breath, brushing the messy blond strands out of his face, “this better not be as stupid as it feels.”

Atsumu clears his throat once. Twice. Then raises his hand to knock.

And that’s when he hears it- 

A small, muffled mew, followed by the scratch of tiny claws against the door.

His brows shoot up.

“…No way.”

Another meow, louder this time. Then silence. Then the sound of feet - presumably yours-, approaching from the other side.

The door opens a fraction, and he catches a glimpse of you: hair tousled from sleep, wearing a too-large T-shirt that could double as a dress, blinking up at him like he’s just interrupted something sacred.

“Oh. Miya-san,” you mumble, rubbing your eye. “Morning.”

“Uh.. yeah. Mornin’.”

He tries not to look awkward standing there in his hastily thrown-on hoodie and shorts. He fails miserably.

There’s a pause, the kind that stretches too long for comfort.

Then something brushes against his ankle.

A small, brown blur shoots out from behind your legs - a cat, the so-called hairy menace - dragging a black piece of fabric in its mouth like a hunter returning from war.

Atsumu stares, and so do you. 

The cat drops the fabric right between you.

And there they are.

His socks.

The lucky ones.

“Oh my god,” you whisper, mortified. “Mochi- no! Bad boy!”

You scoop up the cat, apologizing a mile a minute, but he’s too busy processing the fact that his entire building’s urban legend just strutted into the hallway on four legs.

“I… uh,” he manages, lips twitching into a smirk. “Guess the culprit ain’t that much of a rumor after all.”

You bite your lip, cheeks heating. “I was going to return them I swear! I didn’t know he hoards things. I found a whole pile under my bed just three weeks ago. Seems like he keeps doing so regardless of what I do.”

He can’t help it. He laughs. Loud, bright, and boyish.

You blink, startled.

“Ya were gonna, huh?” he grins, scratching the back of his neck. “Well, guess I caught ya red-handed anyway.”

You groan, hiding your face behind your free hand. “This is so embarrassing…”

“Don’t be,” he says easily, leaning against the doorframe now like he owns the place. “’S kinda cute, actually.”

The words hang between you for a heartbeat too long before he clears his throat again.

“So… you, uh, got a collection of my stuff somewhere then? Should I come get it?”

And that’s how he ended up in your living room for the first time, surrounded by a mountain of laundry that most definitely did not belong to you.

Atsumu stares at the empty railing, mouth hanging open in disbelief, the toothbrush still dangling from his lips like an afterthought. For a long second, all he can do is squint at the vacant clothesline as if the socks might magically reappear out of thin air.

They don’t. Of course they don’t.

“Yer kiddin’ me…” he mutters around a mouthful of mint foam.

With quick strides he makes his way to the bathroom, spits the toothpaste into the sink, wipes his mouth with the back of his hand, and groans. He’s running late, his gym bag is still half-unpacked, and his lucky socks have once again been abducted by that brown menace next door.

This is fine. Totally fine.

He tells himself that as he hastily throws on his bathrobe, because apparently, today’s the kind of day you go to confront your neighbor about stolen laundry looking like you just escaped a hotel spa.

Somewhere between yanking the knot in his robe tighter and grabbing the house key, he decides this was the last straw.

He storms through his living room, muttering something about feral beasts and cursed apartments, and slides the front door open.

Before he can talk himself out of it, he’s already at your door, hair tousled, bathrobe half-tied, knocking like a possessed man.

He knocks once. Twice.

When you open, you’re already there, basket in hand, filled with the oddest assortment of things he’s been missing all month. Socks. A wristband. Even one of his jerseys, folded neatly on top.

And sitting proudly inside the basket, like a monarch amongst his spoils, is Mochi.

The brown cat meows once, tail flicking.

You smile sheepishly. “He… wanted to say sorry.”

Atsumu sighs, but the corners of his mouth tug upward. “Yeah? Tell him I accept his apology. But next time, maybe he can steal somethin’ useful, like my opponent’s playbook.”

You laugh, soft and genuine, the kind that makes the early hour feel less ungodly.

He scratches the back of his neck again, then looks at you, really looks at you.

“Hey,” he starts, voice lower now, hesitant. “Since we’re already neighbors… and technically partners in crime thanks to this little thief,” his chin tips toward the cat, “maybe we could, I dunno.. grab coffee sometime?”

You blink. “Coffee?”

“Yeah. Or tea. Or somethin’. My treat.”

He shrugs, trying for casual but failing miserably, a pink flush creeping up the back of his neck. “Just figured… ya could tell me more about Mochi’s laundry heists in person.”

You bite your lip, fighting a smile. “You’re asking me out, aren’t you?”

“Depends,” he says, grin widening. “You sayin’ yes?”

Your answer comes with a small laugh and a nod. “Yeah. I’m saying yes.”

Mochi meows again, as if this had been his plan all along, tail swishing smugly against the basket’s rim.

And as Atsumu watches you laugh, sunlight spilling through the hallway window, painting your face in warm gold, he thinks, maybe being robbed half his closet wasn’t the worst thing that could have happened after all.

note: after an one-year delay I have finally found the time to finish this project. Thank you for your patience, as well as reading my first work on this blog<3 feedback and reposts are greatly appreciated.

© tsumiyas 2025. plagiarism, translation and distribution of my works out- and inside of tumblr is not permitted.

hi lovelies, it‘s been a while since i last posted something like this. I have decided to quit writing for blue lock and jujutsu kaisen, as well as move blogs again. I have learned from my previous mistakes of deactivating my accounts, which leads to this blog simply being archived. I have made great memories on here and i just cannot bear to throw them all away, and i just know that i will regret loosing all my works on here haha. The reason why i decided to switch fandoms is because I recently fell out of love with the guy that inspired all of my works for the blue lock fandom. With that I also lost my Ideas and Passion to write for the bllk boys.

Something most people probably don‘t know is that I started out writing for the haikyuu fandom. Recently I regained my interest for the series and with that I have found my new inspiration. So you could say I‘m „returning to my roots“ (?). I will continue the event I started during Christmas so everyone who requested something still receives their matchup, as well as post on here once in a while. From now on, I will mainly post on my new blog @tsumiyas and I hope you will accompany me on this new journey.

loads of love, leni <3

hi lovelies, it‘s been a while since i last posted something like this. I have decided to quit writing for blue lock and jujutsu kaisen, as well as move blogs again. I have learned from my previous mistakes of deactivating my accounts, which leads to this blog simply being archived. I have made great memories on here and i just cannot bear to throw them all away, and i just know that i will regret loosing all my works on here haha. The reason why i decided to switch fandoms is because I recently fell out of love with the guy that inspired all of my works for the blue lock fandom. With that I also lost my Ideas and Passion to write for the bllk boys.

Something most people probably don‘t know is that I started out writing for the haikyuu fandom. Recently I regained my interest for the series and with that I have found my new inspiration. So you could say I‘m „returning to my roots“ (?). I will continue the event I started during Christmas so everyone who requested something still receives their matchup, as well as post on here once in a while. From now on, I will mainly post on my new blog @tsumiyas and I hope you will accompany me on this new journey.

loads of love, leni <3

hi lovelies, it‘s been a while since i last posted something like this. I have decided to quit writing for blue lock and jujutsu kaisen, as well as move blogs again. I have learned from my previous mistakes of deactivating my accounts, which leads to this blog simply being archived. I have made great memories on here and i just cannot bear to throw them all away, and i just know that i will regret loosing all my works on here haha. The reason why i decided to switch fandoms is because I recently fell out of love with the guy that inspired all of my works for the blue lock fandom. With that I also lost my Ideas and Passion to write for the bllk boys.

Something most people probably don‘t know is that I started out writing for the haikyuu fandom. Recently I regained my interest for the series and with that I have found my new inspiration. So you could say I‘m „returning to my roots“ (?). I will continue the event I started during Christmas so everyone who requested something still receives their matchup, as well as post on here once in a while. From now on, I will mainly post on my new blog @tsumiyas and I hope you will accompany me on this new journey.

loads of love, leni <3

hi lovelies, it‘s been a while since i last posted something like this. I have decided to quit writing for blue lock and jujutsu kaisen, as well as move blogs again. I have learned from my previous mistakes of deactivating my accounts, which leads to this blog simply being archived. I have made great memories on here and i just cannot bear to throw them all away, and i just know that i will regret loosing all my works on here haha. The reason why i decided to switch fandoms is because I recently fell out of love with the guy that inspired all of my works for the blue lock fandom. With that I also lost my Ideas and Passion to write for the bllk boys.

Something most people probably don‘t know is that I started out writing for the haikyuu fandom. Recently I regained my interest for the series and with that I have found my new inspiration. So you could say I‘m „returning to my roots“ (?). I will continue the event I started during Christmas so everyone who requested something still receives their matchup, as well as post on here once in a while. From now on, I will mainly post on my new blog @tsumiyas and I hope you will accompany me on this new journey.

loads of love, leni <3

/ˌmɪsəˈlʌɪnm(ə)nt/

the incorrect arrangement or position of something in relation to something else. "in which, mikage reo finds himself both asphyxiated and confined within the unfortunate circumstances of his first love."

contents. mikage reo x gn!reader, unrequited feelings, no happy ending, right person wrong time (i think), reader and reo borderline drunk / wasted, unproofread misery, tiny implication at gaslighting but nothing like that happens, never written unrequited love nor experienced it (can't get rejected if i never confess !!)

Despite the intelligence and academic prowess he had maintained throughout his entire lifetime, Mikage Reo is fundamentally a fool; one who unwisely but desperately deludes himself as a means to remain blind to the truth.

The 'wanna hang out tonight?' text was the flame to his moth, effortlessly attracting him whilst having the full capability to incinerate his very existence, to destroy every part of him.

your doting boyfriend thinks it’s time for a coffee date.. at midnight.

You can't exactly recall when the chestnut wooden tiles of your bedroom floor turned into wet cement, yellowish streetlights reflecting on the pavement in a subtle, glossy glimmer.

Or when the reverberating ticks and tocks of the great grandfather-clock on the wall by your desk transitioned into the soft pitter-patter of early morning april-sereine, the intoxicating sandalwood scent and flickering brilliance of the candle by your bedside replaced by the petrichor smell of midnight deluge, the lingering redolence of caffeine and the milky gleam of tonights crescent.

Nature sure does have impeccable timing, and the worst sense of humor — or could it be a cruel, mocking sympathy? You don’t know anymore, you have never been good at knowing intentions, after all.

But you had it coming, you admit.

You knew this day would come. Yet, the thing about anticipating the worst before it knocks on your door, is that it will never truly prepare you for what's waiting on the other side of that door. It never eases the dread, nor does it make fear felt less at the expense of gradual awareness. If anything, it made you restlessly on edge.

Thoughts of anguish and gloom halt at a key rattling in the lock. The door creaked open, and even with your back turned away, you knew there was only one living soul who had the rights to your home and, dare you say, your heart.