╔═══*.·:·.☽✧ ✦ ✧☾.·:·.*═══╗ Here is a little helper: ✏︎(y/n)=your name ✏︎(l/n)=your last name ✏︎(h/l)=hair length ✏︎(h/c)=hair color ✏︎(e/c)=eye color ♔ ⋆The words in italics represent thoughts.⋆ ♔ ✎Requested by __GodUsopp__ ♔ Characteristics of the reader: ✏︎Quiet ✏︎Inventive ╚═══*.·:·.☽✧ ✦ ✧☾.·:·.*══╝
You weren't even supposed to be working right now. This was just supposed to be something to pass the time, something simple to keep your hands busy. But now you're sitting here, sweaty, smeared with grease, and glaring at a piece of machinery like it personally insulted you.
You should've picked something easier. Something that wouldn't fight you at every step. But no, you had to go and challenge yourself, and now you're stuck in this stupid, frustrating cycle of stubbornness—because if you walk away now, then the damn thing wins.
You exhale sharply, flexing your fingers around the wrench. The ship sways gently beneath you, Sunny as steady as ever, as if waiting for you to just let it go. But the thought of stopping now, of leaving this unfinished, only makes your jaw tighten.
"Round three. Let's see who wins," You roll your shoulders, take another breath, and set your grip on the wrench.
It's not about killing time anymore. It's about winning.
Then Franky strolls into the workshop, his heavy footsteps echoing off the walls. "Ah-ha! There you are!" His voice booms with his usual over-the-top enthusiasm, cutting through the tense atmosphere like a knife.
He takes one look at you—sweaty, frustrated, grease-streaked, and locked in some kind of silent battle with the stubborn machinery—and immediately grins. "Pffft—Oi, what happened? Did a bolt steal your lunch money or somethin'?" He plants his hands on his hips, shaking his head dramatically. "Yeesh, you're lookin' at that thing like it owes you an apology."
His grin widens as he steps closer, peering over your shoulder. "Lemme guess—you swore you were just gonna mess with it for a little bit, and now it's personal, huh?" He chuckles, nudging your arm with his elbow. "C'mon, don't tell me you're lettin' a pile of nuts and bolts boss you around."
You shoot him a look, jaw tight, fingers still curled stubbornly around the wrench.
Franky just laughs. "Ohoho! That's the face of someone who refuses to back down! I like it!" He claps a heavy hand on your back, nearly making you jolt forward. "But, uh, y'know, there is a fine line between determination and letting a hunk of metal ruin your day."
He smirks, crossing his arms. "Sooo... you gonna let me take a crack at it, or are you plannin' to fight this thing to the death?"
You huff, rolling your shoulders like you're shaking off his teasing—like that clap on the back didn't just rattle your bones. "Oh, I got this," you say, tightening your grip on the wrench. "It's just being a stubborn little—" You grunt as you give it another go, but the damn bolt refuses to budge.
You glare at him out of the corner of your eye. "I do."
"Oh, no doubt! No doubt at all!" He lifts his hands, feigning innocence, but that knowing grin of his only grows. "I mean, sure, you're sweaty, covered in grease, and look about two seconds away from either throwing that wrench or cryin'—but hey, that's just the face of victory, right?"
Your eye twitches. "Franky, I swear to God—"
He cackles. "Alright, alright! No need to start throwin' punches—at least not at me!" He crouches beside you, tapping a finger against his metal nose as he studies the machinery. "But, y'know... hypothetically, if you weren't gonna fight this thing to the death, maybe I could give it a lil' Superrrr touch."
You exhale sharply, drumming your fingers against the wrench. You hate to admit defeat. But you also hate sitting here sweating for another hour over something he could probably fix in five minutes.
After a long pause, you mutter, "...Fine."
Franky did not fix it. He built something else.
"That was not the point! You were meant to fix it and-" you stopped. "What even is this?"
"I dunno yet...It's still suuuuuper cooool, right?"
"I quit."
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I really love writing for Franky and yet, each time I end up with not a very long text. Very frustrating...Maybe because I just have too much ideas for that super cyborg dude and when I just gotta do one, I then realize the ideas are not viable for long chapters...
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