The Weight of a Letter(Yandere!Rottmnt Donnie x GN reader)

A First Glance

Content warnings: Not much for this chap??? Mentions of mutation, reader watching Donnie, staring, my writing, multi-chap fic

The familiar worn-down sign of Repo-Mantis' junkyard brought a smile to my face, the broken motorcycle I was pushing creaking with each turn of its wheels. I glance around while I walk through the gate, trying to spot the purple mantis mutant who owns the yard. I press my lips into a thin line, my head whipping back and forth as I scan the yard for its owner. I had to drop the old motorcycle off today, I couldn't wait any longer. If I didn't do it today, I knew my parents would throw a hissy fit, and I really didn't want to get grounded right before they left town.

I frown, not seeing him around. I set the motorcycle by the old shack he calls his office, dusting off my pants as I begin to aimlessly walk around, my eyes peeled for the owner. My head snaps to the side as I hear the familiar sound of someone digging through the junk, metal hitting metal in loud clangs and clashes. I walk towards the sound, my footsteps making a dull thud against the ground every time I take a step. Maybe it was Repo, digging through his junk for some coin he dropped again. Rounding a trash pile, I saw what was digging through the piles of junk. Their back was turned to me, the purple armor thing on his back opening as two thin metal poles came out and started helping the mutant search.

I look in awe, half-hiding behind the pile of junk as I watch the mutant at work. I couldn't believe there were more out there. Especially one who was both pretty and looked to be my age. I thought Repo and the odd villain was all there was. I felt a bit bad. I saw Ruppert Swaggert mutate on TV. Twice. Plus, Repo's own stories he had told me after hours of my begging. I can't imagine it was a pleasant experience, having his humanity ripped away to become a mutant. Sure, he was pretty as a mutant, but most preferred not being outcasts. I was just glad the Government wasn't rounding them all up.

I snap myself out of my thoughts, returning to watch the mutant at work as I pretend I wasn't being a total creep. His focus was sharp as he inspected every piece he picked up before either storing it in his armor thing or throwing it onto another pile. I tilt my head, studying him. He seemed so... Intense? I couldn't place it, but he seemed to be completely immersed in the junk he was sorting through. His head lifts a bit, and I see a glimpse of his face, and the markings on his shoulders. My brow furrows, trying to think. I knew I had seen him before somewhere, but I couldn't place where. I shrug. It probably wasn't important.

I shift behind the pile, trying to get a better view. My knee nudges a piece of metal out of place, crashing loudly to the ground. I stare at the large sheet of metal dumbly for a couple of seconds before lifting my head up, meeting the gaze of the seemingly angry green mutant.

"Don't you know it's rude to stare?" He hisses out, glaring at me. I put my hands up in mock surrender, laughing nervously. I didn't mean to offend him, I was just... Curious. Plus, he was really pretty. I couldn't explain it. I was drawn to him in a way.

"I'm so sorry, I was just looking for Repo and then I found you and then I got lost in my head and I know I must've looked like a creep and I'm so sorry." I cut myself off from my ramble at his look of disinterest, my mouth pressing into a line as I rock back and forth on my feet. "Sorry." I say again, trying to make myself seem like less of a weirdo.

He rolls his eyes and turns back to the pile of junk, ready to ignore me once more. "Repo's gone. He'll be back in around an hour."

I puff out my cheeks in frustration, unhappy with this turn of events. "Do you mind if I just hang out with you then?" I ask, already plopping myself down next to him. The mutant eyes me with a look of mild disgust, rolling his eyes at my presence.

"Yes."

I chuckle at the annoyance in his voice, grinning at him. He ignores me, continuing to sort through the piles of scrap. I pat at my legs, trying to think of something to say or do to pass the time. I continue to watch him sort in interest, humming softly to myself. "So, what's your name?"