PLLLLLSSSSSSS write for fred durst or Wes borland or both of them togther and we all make out 🥺🥺?
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Pairing: Fred Durst x female reader x Wes Borland
Era: Late 90's/early 2000s
Summary: You cant seem to pick between Fred or Wes. So, why not have both?
Warnings: Jealousy, rivalry, kissing, drinking, alcohol, partying, making out, groping, grinding, swearing, and mentions of both flashing and more intimate scenarios.
Word Count: 4,839
It was stupid, the entire situation was rather foolish, and you were well aware of such a reality. You were actively situated within the confines of the desolate tour buss, the other members of the band absent whilst you were provided with the company of both Fred and Wes, completely alone. The thrum of distant music would occasionally cause the interior of the vehicle to vibrate as the raging party outside continued.
You momentarily wondered if you were dreaming. Had you possibly fallen asleep, entirely by accident? Were you somehow captured within some sort of childish dream, a reverie that had situated you between the attention of two popular celebrities? This was the type of scenario you would have created as a teenager, enamored by famous musicians, unable to escape your emotions towards them, even whilst asleep. This certainly wasn't something you'd fantasize about at your grown age.
You weren't ignorant regarding the bands rather intense preference towards partying. Limp Bizkit was known for celebrating, drinking, and other similar shenanigans. The members participated within the consumption of both alcohol and drugs, upon a daily basis. News articles and media often focused upon the groups shindigs or carousing as some sort of topic. However, they were famous, provided with popularity, prominence, and fortune. Who wouldn't constantly party within their situation?
In fact, you often participated as well. Obviously, you were not a famous musician or some sort of popular celebrity as they were. Instead, you were just a simple fan who had a lot of time to spare. You wouldn't consider yourself to be a groupie, but you were certainly something adjacent. You just loved the atmosphere, adored the music, and enjoyed the captivating performance. Whether you had attended some sort of concert, or participated within an after party, you were always present. You would simply drink, socialize, and just have fun.
Most of the time, your evenings were spent surrounded by other fans, simply dancing and drinking together. However, other times, the members would appear, participating within the gathering alongside their followers. At that point, you were rather accustomed to viewing the group, no longer as fluster as you had been originally. Now, it was rather normal to view Wes Borland talking within a collection of your fellow fans or Fred Durst drinking with some groupies.
And the same could be said for both Fred and Wes as well.
At first, when Limp Bizkit had originally become popular, the members were rather fazed by the large amount of attention they had received. They were not yet accustomed to the hoard of women constantly crawling all over them, or the fans repeatedly begging them for an autograph during every occasion in which they simply stepped outside. But now, that was their normal, an every day occurrence they had grown aquatinted with.
The two had never really been interested within their fans. Well, at least not Wes, but maybe Fred. The pair were aware of the fact that getting intimately involved with a groupie wasn't exactly the best idea. They had been informed of the drama or issues such relationships might cause. Wes had observed too many crime documentaries about crazy fan girls and Fred had perceived many horror stories regarding obsessed groupies who had taken things too far.
The lead guitarist was precise with his lovers, both smart and calculated when it regarded selecting a girlfriend. Wes would typically nominate another celebrity, or an uninformed civilian as his partner, rather than an infatuated fan. He wasn't ignorant to the manner in which groupies often became much too obsessed with celebrities.
However, the lead singer wasn't as intelligent when it regarded such relationships. Fred often favored both the attention and affection he received from obsessed fans, women who adored him as if he was some sort of God. Such a dynamic only further boosted his ego. Fred honestly believed that receiving the occasional sock or a rather threatening letter within the mail was a fair trade if he was allowed to sleep with a beautiful and obsessed fan even if just once.
However, the pairs morals had seemingly faltered one night, a specific evening in which you had appeared before them once more, the same woman who had always arrived during their after parties. You often managed to enter such gatherings, or score a seat within the front row during each performance. You never failed to support the most provocative outfit available, confidently flashing your chest during concerts, all whilst laughing and giggling amongst your friends. And you were always prepared to both drink and dance until the sun rose and your feet ached.
The exact women who had captured both Fred and Wes' attention.
The guitarist had observed you appear during multiple parties, often dancing amongst the crowd, the lights illuminating your figure as if the entire world had revolved solely around you. You always supported a wide smile of delight, a drink within your grasp, and completely engrossed by the prospect of simply having fun.
Additionally, the lead singer had perceived your presence during various concerts. You were always situated within the front of the crowd, your form pushed against the barrier of the stage as you constantly cheered and shouted. You would giggling and chat amongst your friends during songs, typically waving to the musicians, and occasionally tugging at your shirt, rewarding Fred with a momentary view of your exposed breasts.
Yet, you had always remained respectful. During concerts, you would never attempt to crawl upon the stage or toss some sort of clothing article within the middle of a show, as most obsessed groupies would have. Instead, you would simply clap, cheer, and dance, before ultimately vanishing once the performance had concluded. During parties, you never bombarded the group members with intense admiration, begging for even a portion of their attention, as most others would have. Rather, you would simply enjoy yourself, as if this was just any other party, like you weren't actively surrounded by multiple famous musicians.
The pair of men were leaned against a random wall, simply viewing the party from a far, all whilst sipping upon their alcoholic beverages and just conversing together. However, both Fred and Wes had suddenly fallen silent as soon as the two of them had gained a momentary flash of your appearance, viewing you dancing amongst the crowd, completely consumed by the loud music. You were jumping to the beat, like this was just another party, the lights above glimmering across your skin, causing you to both glow and radiate with a captivating aura.
Suddenly, the lead singer leaned towards his companion, attempting to whisper within his ear, muttering quiet enough for only Wes to perceive.
"That girl, you see that girl?" Fred exclaimed whilst jutting a finger within your general direction "Yeah. Im gonna go talk to her."
The lead singer was rather accustomed to the guitarists disapproving and blatantly judgmental response whenever Fred had decided to court yet another fan. Typically, Wes would swiftly reveal his disappointment, declaring something along the lines of "Seriously?" Or "You're just asking to get murdered at this point, dude." Accompanied by an exaggerated roll of his eyes or an exhausted sigh.
However, for once, Fred was rather alarmed by his companions reaction when he was greeted by stern resistance from Wes.
"What? No." The guitarist responded, his statement both assured and firm, as if the lead singer had just claimed that the sky was pink and Wes clearly disagreed.
In all honesty, Fred was rather surprised, completely unprepared to receive an assured remark from his friend. Such a response was entirely unlike Wes, a claim that greatly contrasted his typical reluctance or disappointment. The brunette's previous statement was both harsh and intense, extremely final, rather than a question. As a result, the blond peered towards Wes as if the other man had currently supported three heads, with his brows furrowed and his vision rather confused.
"Why not?" Fred asked, genuinely sincere.
Sure, the lead guitarist often disagreed with his companion's rather foolish or idiotic decisions, actions that were extremely irresponsible and immature. Yet, he would never entirely deny him. Instead, the brunette would often express his disapproval before allowing Fred to do as he pleased. After all, they were both adults, and neither of them could reasonably control one another.
Yet, within that moment, Wes had been stern, as if he had been exclaiming some sort of finalized rule that the blond was legally unable to break.
When the guitarist finally rewarded Fred with a rather sheepish glance, his features distant but his vision clearly determined, all of the singer's previous confusion was instantly destroyed. As a result of such a simple glare, the blond was immediately informed of his companions intentions, before Wes had even managed to properly explain both himself and his behaviors.
"Oh Hell no. No, no, no. You always fucking hate when I get with fans, treatin' me like an idiot. Don't you dare fuckin' spin this bullshit around. You always shit on me about it, all high and mighty and shit. But now, ohhh things are suddenly different when it's you." Fred attempted to defend himself, quick to both anger and irritation whilst he scolded his companion.
However, Wes was rather unfazed by the blond's berate. The brunette did not surrender or concede to Fred's reprimand. He did not simply admit defeat and allow the other man to become victorious, as he typically did. Instead, Wes remained firm, rewarding his friend with a rather stern glare in return.
"Come on, dude. I never do this, just let me have this one." The guitarist resisted, tossing his hands forwards as he spoke, attempting to display his desperation.
Yet, Fred failed to retreat.
"Hell no." The singer exclaimed, tossing his head backwards in irritation "You don't get to shit on me and then turn around and do the exact same thing."
Wes was determined, a rather smug smirk slowly inching across his features as he began to march towards you, splitting the crowd as if he was a sharp axe slicing through a dense log. The guitarist was attempting to gain your attention before the blond possibly could, although he played it off as some sort of both honorable and respectful act.
"Why don't we just, ya know, ask her. Actually let her pick." The brunette exclaimed over his shoulder, causing Fred to skitter after him like some sort of lost puppy.
Although he attempted to display his behaviors as both noble and polite, his intent was the exact opposite. Wes was certain that you would select himself, positive that you would reject his companion. He was simply required to interact with you first, before Fred could possibly capture your attention. He was obviously the better choice, right?
As soon as the brunette had arrived in front of you, gently tapping upon your shoulder in order to gain your focus, Wes had failed to waist even a moment before inquiring upon whether or not you would enjoy his company.
"Hey, you wanna hang?" The guitarist inquired as soon as you had properly shifted towards him, hollering over the blaring music whilst failing to even introduce himself.
However, Fred had instantly countered his companions offer. Instead, the blond swiftly proposed his own idea.
"No, how about you hang out with me, sweetheart." The singer declared, much less of a question, similar to Wes' offer, and more of an instruction.
Suddenly, it felt as if the roles had been reversed. You were not crawling all over the two men, both desperate and pleading for their attention, as most groupies behaved towards them. Instead, the musicians were directing their affection towards you, begging for your concentration within their own, separate manners. It was like you had suddenly become the infamous celebrity, and both Fred and Wes were now the infatuated fans.
You were rather stunned as you stood before the pair of musicians, no longer dancing and giggling as you had been previously. Instead, you were now shocked, completely idle and dormant within your position.
You wondered if you had maybe consumed too much alcohol, extremely intoxicated, which had caused you to hallucinate. There was no possible way these two men were actively fighting over you, as if this was a scene retrieved straight from the obsessed brain of a teenage girl. This only happened in the movies, with a pair of handsome and popular men fighting over a random girl. You obviously had to be dreaming.
"I- um," you stuttered, your features glazed beneath a vibrant crimson hue "Im sorry? I don't... What?"
You were obviously rather confused, visibly both awkward and nervous as you swayed in front of the two men, failing to properly select. You were still mentally wondering if this was actually real, or if you had somehow managed to imagine the entire scenario, extremely influenced by the affects of the alcohol.
Yet, Fred did not surrender. The blond failed to simply dismiss your rather bewildered response before finally leaving you alone. You were obviously rather conflicted, unable to properly finalize your decision. Never mind the fact that you were visibly confused. Instead, the blond persisted, further attempting to persuade you into some sort of choice.
"Come on, just have a drink with us, maybe that will help you choose." Fred had proposed, a soft and rather comforting smile etched across his lips. A tender grin, but false none the less; it was a fake smirk that was an obvious attempt to further convince you.
You could never even consider possibly denying either of the men in front of you. Although you were rather conflicted, unsure of the correct decision, you had ultimately agreed. This was a once in a life time opportunity you would never even contemplate rejecting. And besides, sharing a drink and some quality time between the pair of musicians was somewhat of a fantasy you had always possessed. Even if nothing ever did proceed, at least you'd gain a rather interesting story to share amongst your friends, regarding the evening you had spent partying directly alongside both Fred Durst and Wes Borland.
With a rather timid nod, your vision shy, features flustered, and a soft smile etched across your lips, the pair did not hesitate to accept your approval. The men quickly guided you towards their tour bus, a large vehicle situated a few yards away from the accumulated crowd. In all honesty, you had expected the pair to simply share a drink with you right then and there, to stand amongst the sea of people whilst the three of you just talked. Yet, instead, they had lead you to a much more secluded and private location.
The musicians guided you into the bus, assisting you up the steps and into the threshold of the vehicle. Once inside, Fred secured the door as Wes ushered you towards the adjacent couch. It was a rather desolate bus, with a designated area up front for the driver, a pair of bunk beds situated within the wall, a small dining table, a sofa, and a doorway leading into a much larger room positioned at the end of the hallway.
You sat upon the couch, situated between the two men, with the blond upon your left and the brunette located on your right, awkwardly grasping at the drink positioned within your palms. You were nervous, that much was obvious, due to the manner in which you would occasionally glance towards the singer, or timidly peer within the guitarist's direction. You were clearly awaiting some sort of instructions.
"How about this," Fred finally exclaimed, graciously clearing his throat "let's play a game."
The brunette was unable to recall an occasion in which he had participated within such juvenile party games within at least a decade, maybe longer. The three of you were no longer dumb teenagers, and Wes was certain you would reject such an immature and childish idea.
"Shut up, dude, you sound like a creep." The guitarist retorted, swiftly beginning to mock the blond, repeating his previous offer within a rather foolish voice, all whilst claiming that his companion sounded similar to that of an evil villain within an idiotic action film.
Fred was quick to defend himself, stating that it was just an idea before basically demanding the brunette to "shut the fuck up." However, as the two continued to bicker, shouting at one another from over your shoulder, you allowed yourself to relax into the comfort provided by the sofa.
"Alright, what did you have in mind?" You finally responded, your soft voice slicing through the their pair's argument like a deafening shot gun blast.
Instantly, the two men became silent, rather surprised by your approval. Even Fred hesitated for a moment, before ultimately leaning forwards and glaring towards Wes, displaying a rather exaggerated grin of victory within his companions general direction.
"Truth or drink." The blond finally offered after a moment of dramatic silence, a rather confident smirk etched across his lips.
You pondered upon his request for a moment, subtly chewing upon your lip as you tossed the idea around within your head. You were aware of exactly where such a game would lead. However, you were seemingly unable to deny such an offer as you finally nodded, your movements rather awkward as you nervously glanced towards the beverage currently situated within your grasp.
You perceived the audio of Fred's rather arrogant chuckle from beside you, obviously satisfied by your decision. The sofa slightly shifted beneath you as the singer further relaxed into his seat, the weight of his movements causing the cushion to instinctually adjust.
"Lady's first." The blond exclaimed, his tone laced with blatant confidence as he drawled such a statement.
In response to Fred's cheesy claim, Wes audibly released a rather disappointed sigh. However, he ultimately failed to object, allowing the entire ordeal to further continue.
"Alright..." You paused, considering your future question, attempting to achieve the most agreeable route "Fred," you finally stated, directing your first question towards the singer "Have you ever fucked a fan?"
The blond failed to hesitate before responding, releasing an amused chuckle as he remarked.
"Of course." He stated, as if it was the most obvious answer within the entire universe.
Now his turn, Fred instantly shifted his attention towards you, clearly prepared to inquire about yourself. Obviously, he wasn't going to ask Wes anything. In fact, it was his entire goal to keep his companion as detached from the entire situation as possible. You were the prize, and the singer was determined to become victorious.
"(Y/N), have you ever fucked a celebrity?" The blond asked with a rather suggestive raise of his brow.
Instantly, you perceived the sensation of heat exploding across the expanse of your exposed skin, swiftly glazing your features beneath a vibrant crimson hue, and causing your pulse to thunder within your ears. You were rather embarrassed by the fact that no, you hadn't slept with a famous individual, and the prospect of admitting such a reality to the pair of musicians situated beside you was extremely daunting. Therefore, you simply relied upon a swig of your drink, transporting the entrance of the bottle towards your lips before consuming a thorough swallow.
However, your silence was ultimately received as an answer within itself, causing Fred to simply chuckle as a response to your rather shy demeanor.
After a moment of composure, attempting to control the trembling of your fingers and physically decrease your rapid heart rate, you decided to invite Wes into the game, determined to include both of the men.
"Have you ever fucked a fan?" You inquired, guiding your question towards Wes as you nodded within his direction.
The blond was visibly disappointed by your rather open tactics. Although you had directed your first inquiry towards Fred, you were now attempting to include the brunette as well. Such welcoming behaviors caused the singer to grumble his disapproval from beside you. He had regarded such attention towards his companion as some sort of attack, rather than a simple invitation.
In contrast to your previous dismissal, along with Fred's clear response, Wes had simply shaken his head, indicating the reality that he had failed to become intimate with a fan before.
However, the guitarist's rather timid demeanor swiftly shifted into something much more arrogant and determined as he directed his initial question towards yourself. Suddenly, Wes was no longer nervously peering towards the ground below him. Instead, he was now maintaining proper eye contact with you, his vision unfaltering as he remained completely assured.
"Which one of us do you wanna fuck?" The brunette asked, his tone rather steady and firm, as if he had never once been awkward within the first place.
Suddenly, the entire tone of the game quickly shifted. At first, the three of you had been rather reserved. Although the questions had always been extremely intimate and rather personal, such inquiries had always been received as simply introductory. But now, with Wes' rather blunt question, the three of you had once again returned to the initial issue: Which one of them you would select.
It was as if you had just been slapped across the face, revived back to reality as you considered your answer. This was obviously a question the two men would not allow you to simply dismiss. There was some sort of invisible battle occurring between the musicians, and the pair were clearly determined to settle it. You were just an innocent civilian who had somehow managed to become caught within the cross fire.
The pair awaited your response within silence, both gazing down towards you as you considered your options. Either, you could select Fred, which would ultimately ruin your chances with the brunette. Or, you could choose Wes, which in return would destroy your opportunity with the blond. Either way, it was a lose lose situation. You just couldn't seem to decided.
You released a rather trembling sigh as you gained your confidence, mentally preparing yourself to reveal the truth. Your future statement would either completely demolish this entire opportunity, or provide you with a rather satisfying reward. And it was a risk you were willing to take.
"Both." You simply exclaimed, your features physically burning beneath a deep blush as a result of such a confession.
In all honesty, you had expected the duo to quickly dismiss you, to regard your admission with a pair of disgusted expressions before commanding you to disappear. You had assumed the musicians would regard you as disturbing or somehow become offended by such a claim.
However, they had simply remained quiet, the silence causing you to wearily glance upwards, inspecting the two. And as you observed their features, you soon discovered that they were certainly not upset. Instead, Fred appeared rather pleased, smirking to himself as an amused chuckle bubbled within his throat. Additionally, Wes even appeared rather satisfied, leaning towards the blond before whispering something inaudible within his ear, quiet enough for only the singer could perceive said statement.
In response to the brunette's mystery claim, Fred simply nodded. Wes reclined within his seat once more as the singer situated his hands behind his head, assuming a rather relaxed and slightly smug position.
"I think we can arrange that." The blond stated, silently motioning for you to situate yourself closer to him, nodding his own head down towards his lap.
You were certainly shocked, with your vision wide and your lips slightly parted. You had honestly expected the pair of men to swiftly reject you, to despise such an idea before immediately demanding your departure. Yet, they hadn't, and you were honestly surprised that your jaw hadn't managed to collide against the floor, due to how your mouth was currently agape.
Eventually, once you had gained enough courage, dismissing the slight tremble of your movements and the anxiety currently pestering your mind, you did as the lead singer had instructed, slowly shifting your figure closer to his own. You were prepared to simply position yourself by Fred's side, to lean across his chest before the two of you ultimately connected. However, with a rather supportive hand provided by the other man, Wes gently guided you onto his companions lap. With your legs straddling his thighs and your hands situated against the barrier of the blond's chest, you quietly gazed towards Fred, silently expecting something you weren't yet aware of.
The lead singer was the first to connect your lips, his actions both confident and direct, as if he was absolutely starved for your attention. Fred continuously nipped and lapped at your features, desperately attempting to breach the seal of your lips before venturing into the confines of your mouth. And you had allowed just that, permitting his tongue to split your lips before swirling into the depths of your mouth. The singer caressed your tongue, cheeks, even your teeth, all with the usage of his own tongue.
His hands had ultimately removed themselves from behind his skull, slowly slithering up the length of your back in order to properly grasp your figure. His grip wasn't yet intimate, completely focused upon the curve of your torso and the dip of your waist. However, you were certainly aware of the reality that Fred was yearning for his hands to become much more adventurous, due to the manner in which his fingers palmed your flesh and his hands caressed your skin. It was as if he was mentally struggling to restrain himself, to refrain from reaching for your breasts or palming your ass at that very moment.
Eventually, Fred had retreated, chuckling quietly to himself as you instinctually chased his lips. The blond pulled away, visibly amused by your confusion before he nodded to his left, motioning towards Wes.
The brunette quickly leaned forwards, capturing your features within his palm as he guided your face towards his own. Compared to the lead singer, Wes' actions were much less intense. Rather than both nipping and biting at your lips, the guitarist was slow, passionate, and deliberate with each action. His tongue did not beg to enter the confines of your mouth, he failed to grope or palm at your figure. Instead, the brunette simply kissed you, connecting your lips within a rather romantic and sensual manner, each push and pull overwhelmed with both passion and concealed desperation.
After a few moments, Wes' seemingly passed you back towards Fred, like you were some sort of ration the two were sharing, evenly splitting your attention between one another.
The blond assumed control once more, gaining the attention provided by your lips. He reassumed his previous exploration of your mouth, lapping at your tongue and repeatedly kissing your lips. All whilst the brunette plastered soft kisses down the column of your neck, venturing further and further down the expanse of your figure, plastering his mouth across each and every inch of exposed skin he could possibly reach. Wes' lips were both tender and gentle against your neck, occasionally rewarding you with a slight nibble or a subtle suck.
You just couldn't help but moan into the confines of Fred's mouth, your hands assuming position within Wes' hair, rewarding him with the occasional tug or a slight pull. As their hands ventured across your form, with the brunette grasping at your breasts and the blond palming your ass, you felt yourself instinctually grinding against Fred's lap, searching for any sort of friction. And with each thrust, the lead singer had rewarded you with a subtle groan and a grind of his own hips.
However, just as soon as the entire situation had started, it soon concluded.
The audio of the nearby door squealing open quickly interrupted the three of you, causing Wes to jolt away and Fred to reward your lips with one final nip before ultimately releasing you. Yet, each of their hands remained plastered across your body, with the blond's fingers gripping your ass and the brunette's palms engulfing your breasts, as if they were somehow marking their territory. Visibly displaying the fact that you had belonged to them within that moment, completely greedy and unwilling to share.
Your vision quickly flickered towards the entrance, your features burning with a mixture of both embarrassment and shame, due to the reality that you had just been caught becoming intimate with both of the musicians at once. You had definitely just gained the title of "The World's Best Groupie."
Located within the doorway was a rather shocked, yet slightly amused, Sam Rivers. His vision was wide, observing the three of you as if he had just accidentally stumbled upon some sort of active crime scene. Yet, you weren't ignorant to the slight smirk of approval that currently graced his lips.
"Are you two serious? You cant even share the stage, but you can share a woman? You guys are treading into some rather gay territory right now." Sam exclaimed with a chuckle, shaking his head within visible amusement.
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