Love Trilogy *Red Hot Chili Peppers* One shots & Fanfic

John Frusciante x Reader

Pain was all you felt as your eyelids fluttered open only to instantly be shut again from the blinding mid afternoon california sunlight streaming through the blinds.

Your head was pounding like someone was hitting your repeatedly with a brick or a hammer. Along with that your body felt numb and every joint ached along with it.

Slowly you opened your eyes again, this time you merely squinted at the light that shone directly into your (y/e/c) eyes.

The first thing you noticed was that the bed you were in was not your bed. And the second thing you noticed was that you were naked. The third thing... you weren't alone.

Thoughts raced through your brain giving you a head rush of the night before.

A wild party was raging on after a Red Hot Chili Peppers concert.

The band was local to California, more specifically your neighborhood, but the band was also pretty big and gaining a lot of recognition.

You went to their concert at a local venue last night and managed to get into the after party afterwards. If there was one thing you learned about California band parties it was, throw on a tight dress, some makeup, flirt a little, and you could get in anywhere for free.

But who was the strange man next to you. All you could see was his back and his greasy brown locks that fawned out over his face.

Thankfully his naked lower half was covered by a dirty white sheet. Carefully you sat up, feeling more nauseous and dizzy than ever before.

You turned to the floor and grabbed a random shirt laying on the ground. You knew it wasn't yours, but until you found your own clothes you had to wear this guys clothes.

You slipped out of the bed, but your curiosity got the best of you. Who in the world did you sleep with last night?

It had to be good. You looked in the mirror on the wall as you stood up. Your (y/h/c) hair was all messed up, multiple bruises from hickeys were on your neck and you already saw a bunch on your hips and inner things.

This guy was skilled.

You slowly crept around the other side of the bed, slipping your underwear on in the process since you had found them sprawled out on the dirty wooden floor.

You held your breath, careful not to wake up your mysterious partner, but upon further inspection of the male you gasped.

Laying right before you in an unconscious and vulnerable state of clarity, peace, and relaxation, was no other than the Red Hot Chili Peppers guitarist himself, John Anthony Frusciante.

John Frusciante took you back to his apartment last night and fucked you in his bed.

Suddenly all the memories were more vivid and came rushing back.

You walked outside to where a fire was lit and burning brightly up into the dark California sky and into the Hollywood Hills.

You needed a cigarette or a blunt or something to calm your nerves.

Amongst the crowd you saw a lone wolf off in the distance sitting in a chair with a acoustic guitar in his lap and a cigarette hanging loosely out of his mouth.

The red and orange flames of the fire danced off his smooth and pale skin.

You stumbled closer, trying to make it unnoticeable that you were a little bit wasted.