Proprietorial - Glamrock Bonnie X FemReader

Princess Treatment.

You made the bed and even tended to the mini fridge and TV that seemed to be broken in Bonnie's room. When you heard the door to the charging station open, all you could do was smile.

Bonnie stepped out, holding his head and muttering something about guitars. When he looked up and noticed you, he froze.

"What-..."

"What am I doing here after you completely freaked out and acted like a huge asshole? Don't know, maybe I'm just an idiot. Or maybe, I don't know, I want to be your friend," You glared and crossed your arms, waiting for his response.

"Did you...clean my room?" He looked around the floor in disbelief.

"Yeah. And I fixed your TV and washed your musty sheets, you're welcome. Now sit, let me have a look at that arm,"

He snarled in protest before realizing he couldn't argue after you'd gone through all the trouble of helping him. He reluctantly sat on the edge of the bed, lazily outstretching his damaged arm to you.

You felt accomplished as you watched him do as you said.

Maybe that's it, bro likes to be bossed around. Who would've thought?

You pulled the chair from his vanity and placed it directly next to him as you worked. You yanked his arm subconsciously into your lap and he gasped at the sudden tug.

"What? Does that hurt??" You looked up, concerned.

"No, it doesn't hurt, you dumbass-"

You raised your eyebrows at him to see if he really wanted to call you a curse word after picking up after his depressed ass.

"Then? Did I pull too hard? Sorry, I didn't think you were sensitive. You come off more as a 'I like it rough' kind of guy, y'know?" You grinned and returned your focus to his injury, leaving him speechless.

Little did you know that that sentence would be the very start of a very...unhealthy obsession.

~~~

"You're in luck, I found the spare parts in parts and services. Want me to exchange them for you?" You pulled back Bonnie's curtain to see him sitting up abruptly after laying down on his bed. He hesitated, looking at the spare forearm you held in your palm.

"You sure you know what you're doing?" He raised an eyebrow and you scoffed, taking offense.

"I KNOW I know what I'm doing. But you, sir, clearly don't know shit on how to properly thank someone, do you?" You shook your head and sat back down in your chair.

"Yeah? Well, I sure as hell didn't ask you to do all this. You should learn to respect people's boundaries," he snapped. You laughed at his outburst and pulled at his injured arm once more.

"Okay, buddy. Because respecting your boundaries is totally what got us to be friends,"

"We aren't friends." He retorted.

"Sure, we are! Would non-friends do....this?" You successfully removed his arm plate and slid it off of his endo, taking him by surprise. "Orrr this?" you pulled at a green wire on his hand, making his arm jerk....

...upwards and hit himself in the face.

"HEY!" He growled, grabbing your hand with his free one. You looked up at him as he grabbed you, making eye contact with him for the first time in a while. You both seemed to be frozen in time, staring into each other's organ of sight for a good thirty seconds.

He was the one who looked away first, your wrist still bound by his fingers.

"Don't try anything else funny or I'm seriously going to kick you out," he said lowly.

"Fine, fine. Now can you let go of me before I reattach this arm to your face like a damn muzzle??"

He released you, surprisingly, and allowed you to finish your repairs without any more interruptions.

"There, done. Can you move it?" You asked, hopeful that he'd be impressed by your skills and take back what he said about not knowing what you were doing.

He lifted his arm and flexed his fingers, admiring your job well-done.

"Cool. Glad you didn't fuck it up, would've had to give you your own repair," He stood up and walked off of his stage.

"What?! Wh-what do you mean by that?! You can't just say something ominous like that and then dip, you ass!" You chased after him after taking off your utility belt and placing it on his table.

"Nothing about what I said was ominous, you're just taking it the wrong way," He shrugged and made his way to one of the bowling lanes.

"The wrong way? Seriously? How else was I supposed to take that?" You stifled a laugh and stood next to him in front of alley #5.

"You took it as a threat, I meant it as a promise. Now start," he said impatiently, manspreading as he sat at the booth. You stood there quizzically and looked where he gestured.

"Start...what exactly?"

"Start bowling, princess," He blinked at you, and you rolled your eyes.

"Do NOT call me that. And why are we bowling? I'm tired as fuck, actually," You yawned and waved him off.

"Because you suck at it, and this is my payment to you. You fixed my arm, and I'll save your life by not letting you live another second being such an unathletic loser," He leaned back and folded his arms over his abdomen.

"I suck?! How about you, huh?? You think you're so great?! Well, you big-headed bitch, how much you want to bet I can beat you...right...now." You picked up a ball and mentioned the screen above the lane waiting for the game to start. He grinned at your proposition and nodded slyly.

"Alright. You're on. And...what do I get if I win?" He questioned, watching you intently.

"Anything you want. I'll even help you clean up your nasty attitude so you and Freddy can be boyfriends again," You teased, fidgeting with your bowling ball.

"Anything I want, huh? And if you win?"

"Hmm...I want you to...stop kicking me out and let me nap here in peace," You shuddered thinking about your stressful days with the newbies.

"Deal," He pushed himself off of the seat and ran his index fingers over the balls. "I'll give you your first tip now, you'll want this one," He picked up a red ball and traded you for the one you currently held. You looked at him skeptically as you took the ball from his grasp, fingers touching.

"You better not be sabotaging me right now just so you can win,"

He threw his head back and chuckled, pitying you.

"You'll need much more than the correct ball if you even want to get close to beating me, sweetheart,"

"You better shut up! I'll start- And don't fucking call me that!"

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