andy (sixx) biersack

Heat Stroke

Originally posted by bringmeblacksirens1

IT’S FINALLY FUCKING FINISHED WOO!

Prompt: Imagine working as a P.A. for Black Veil Brides on the set of Legion of the Black and having to take care of Andy when he passes out from heat stroke.

THIS IS PURE FLUFF BTW


“Cut!” Patrick shouted, and the music stopped. The director sighed and made inaudible gestures to the various crew surrounding him. I just shook my head, pushed the hair from my eyes, and pulled open the cheap cooler by my feet.

Ashley smiled, whooping in glee as he rest the neck of his guitar on the stage, running over to me. Everyone else soon followed suit.

“I honestly have no idea how you guys do this all day,” I said, astonished, as I handed a refreshing bottle of water to Jake and CC, “I mean, I checked on my phone, it’s a hundred and ten degrees.”

“Hah!” C.C. jabbed an accusing finger at Andy, “I called it! Over a hundred, pay up, Biersack!”

The singer rolled his eyes, “Yeah, fine, you win, I’ll give you the money later.”

Soon I had given all the band members a bottle, and an extra one for Jinxx. I was the official P.A. of the illustrious Black Veil Brides. When I got into the job I only did it because it sounded better than working at Wendy’s or some shit just to pay off student loans. I did not, however, think that it would involve going to the middle of the goddamn Sahara to film. I thought I would just have to run and get smoothies for arrogant douchebags. Instead I’m trapped in the southern part of hell, hoping I don’t burst into flames.

“Uuugh… Andy, you dick, why’d you say desert?” Ashley grumbled, running a hand through his sweaty hair, “we could be filming anywhere else and you chose the desert?”

“Shut up, it’ll look amazing,” Andy muttered a quick thanks to me before taking the bottle from my hand, his fingertips brushing against the side of my hand, “anyway, at least you’re not Alicia. You know how many scenes she’s gotta do tomorrow?”

Jinxx pitched in, “But Alicia’s makeup is just a bunch of smeared oil. I saw her pour some water on her hair earlier and wanted to punch something I was so jealous,” he added, “We get any water on our stuff and we’re screwed.”

I chuckled, nudging Jinxx’s side, “Why don’t you just boycott the makeup forever?”

“I’ll toast to that,” C.C. raised his almost empty water bottle like a champagne glass, “to never wearing makeup again!”

Eventually everyone was clinking their plastic bottles to a makeup-less future. Andy grinned, “At least we only have an hour left.”

Ashley choked on his water, his eyes wide with surprise, “At least an hour! At least!”

I rolled my eyes at Ashley’s shock, “Hey, keep in mind that the crew has to be out here till nightfall so you can both your mouths.” I said jokingly. Andy laughed, taking another sip of his drink. Although, it wasn’t as clear cut as I put it. Hence the title of the movie, ‘Legion of the Black’, the boys were clad in nothing but shiny black leather and cloth. I would take the white shorts and short sleeved t-shirt I had on over that any day. Overall, Andy probably had it the worst. He was up an extra hour before everyone else to do his scenes with Alicia, where they finished up Resurrect The Sun.

“All right everyone, we shoot in five!” Patrick called, and the boys groaned, throwing away their bottles into the spare bin near the tent.

Andy waved to me before running up to his stand and I flashed him a quick smile in return. I’ll admit, one of the best parts about this job was the boys. I’ve been working as a P.A. for about three years now and when I got drafted to work for an obscure, punk rock, heavy metal band called Black Veil Brides It almost made all the other countless jobs for assholes like Gene Hackman and Taylor Swift worth it. They didn’t treat me like trash, they smiled and talked to me before doing takes, and, when my boyfriend of three years dumped me, they comforted me, told me that he didn’t deserve me and overall made the whole experience hurt a lot less. I had no idea why, after a year of working with them on tour and during video shoots I still had no idea why I hadn’t been relocated to another movie shoot but Jesus, I’m thankful to work with people like them.

Just then I felt a buzz in my back pocket. I took out my phone and saw that it was Lisa. Usually I would stay and watch the boys preform but… Lisa hadn’t been able to call for a while and I did need to check up on her. The song they were shooting for, Abeyance, came on over the old boom box and they started to preform, so while I brought the phone to my ear, I walked away from the set and behind a tent.

“Hey, Y/N! Sorry I haven’t been able to call for a while. My asshat of a boss made me do overtime yesterday and I forgot to ring you up,” Lisa, my roommate back in Chicago, apologized profusely.

I snickered, “Forget it, it’s okay. Hopefully you’ll get the promotion soon and then you can make his life hell.”

“Ah, yes. Vengeance and spite. The two motivations that get me up in the morning,” I laughed, and began not paying attention to the music playing from the set.

“So how’s the desert been?” I gave her an exasperated groan. “…That bad, huh?”

“Lisa, it feels like I am in Satan’s anus it’s so hot, I feel like I’m going to combust into flames.” I heard her lowly whistle over the tone.

“Well, if it makes you feel any better, that bitch Lindsey Lohan you filmed with a year ago just got arrested,” I gasped. Lindsey Lohan. Two years ago I was filming something with her and on the second day of the shoot she hadn’t turned up on set. The director, a nice girl if I remember right, asked Y/N, the brand new P.A., to go to Lindsey’s trailer and wake her up. When I knocked on the door she shouted at whoever was there to get out. I insisted that she was missing from the set and the director asked me to come get her. In response, she threw open the door of the trailer, poured half a bottle of scotch on my head, spit at me, and told me to fuck off. Needless to say, that was one of, if not the worst day of my life. So by now I was too deep in the conversation to notice that the music had stopped. “Yeah. Cops down in San Francisco had a hunch, you know? They thoughts they’d find some weed or something in her flat. Guess what they found?”

“What?” Distantly, I could hear something off in the direction of the set.

I could practically hear the malicious grin in her voice. “You name it. PCP, crack, LSD, everything under the sun.” I was bending over laughing I was so happy, and only stopped when I heard distressed shouting from the set.

“I know, right? She’ll be away for a long ti-“

The jokes forgotten, I was starting to feel panicked, “Listen, Lisa, something’s gone wrong on set. I’ll call you back,” and I promptly disconnected the call, stuffed my phone in my pocket and sprinted over to the set.

When the set came into view, a small crowd had gathered around the center of it. Brief panic turned to fear as I tried to push through the sea of people.

“Hey! What happened?” I asked one person, and I distinctively heard someone shout my name.

“There she is- Y/N! It’s Andy he… shit, he just…” I heard Ashley say and my worry spiked. Once I pushed through the crowd my eyes landed on the dusty desert ground and I felt my stomach drop. Andy had collapsed on the ground, face down on the sandy terra.

My breathing escalated and I crouched down beside Andy, my hand reaching to search for his pulse and inevitably located the steady beat of his heart somewhere down his neck. I looked up at Ashley questioningly, “What the hell happened?”

“I don’t know! Everything was normal and suddenly Andy just dropped.” I was about to try and wake him up when I heard Patrick’s angry shouts from across the scattered crowd.

“Heat stroke! You’ve gotta be fucking kidding me, Biersack. Of all the days to beauty sleep you chose today of all days!” He ranted and I felt my blood boil.

Sir,” I growled with an edge of bitterness, “Andy has just passed out. And it’s not unbelievable with this sun. Therefore, I will be taking him to his trailer to be sure that he is alright. And if you have any complaints you can take it up with the medic you surely hired just in case something like this would happen.” The director’s face paled. He knew just what I was implying. I had strongly urged as an experienced P.A, that going to film in the desert and not hire a medic because of funds was incredibly risky and incredibly illegal, which worked well in my favor.

Jinxx snickered at Patrick’s face and C.C. had to suppress laughter. I slipped an arm around Andy’s shoulder and tried to lift him. Ashley noticed and helped me get him upright. Despite his slim frame, he was surprisingly heavy.

“Hey, Y/N?” Ashley asked as I pulled open the door to the band’s trailer. I hummed in response, the majority of my attention devoted to helping Andy and making sure he was okay. “Thanks for sticking up for Andy back there. Patrick is seriously a huge hard-ass and needs to let up on him.”

I shook my head, “You better be fucking grateful, I probably just lost my job over you jerks,”

Ashley beamed, “Come on, you know you can always find a job with us. Personal butler sounds quite fitting.” Resisting the urge to shove the guitarist was almost too great.

“Oh shut up and help me get this idiot into bed.”


Ashley went back to the set to smooth things over with Patrick, leaving me alone with the barely conscious Andy. He hadn’t exactly awoken but had taken to mumbling, his eyelids shut tightly. His skin was suspiciously dry but flushed red and burning. Jinxx called me earlier and said that Patrick, being the cheap prick he is, wouldn’t waste hundreds of dollars for a doctor to inspect what he called ‘a fever’ and said that I had to get Andy back on his feet by tomorrow. That bastard… I’m working off of symptoms that I googled on fucking WebMD, how am I supposed to deal with this?

“Mmm… M’it hurts…” Andy mumbled.

I hummed, “I know, just hold on…” Finally, I found what I was looking for on the shitty website.

Heatstroke treatment centers on cooling your body to a normal temperature to prevent or reduce damage to your brain and vital organs. To do this, your doctor may take these steps: Immerse you in cold water. A bath of cold or ice water can quickly lower your temperature.

“You’ve gotta be kidding me.” There weren’t any baths in the trailer, or showers for that matter. It wasn’t an RV, just a rental trailer.

An idea popped into my head. Maybe not as effective as a bath but it might do the trick. I grabbed a spare rag from the drawer, dipped it in water and ringed it out until it was cool and damp.

“Okay, this might sting,” I mumbled to myself, seeing as how Andy probably couldn’t even hear me. I gently pressed the towel to Andy’s forehead and he instantly recoiled with a wince.

“Yeah, I get it hurts but please just stay still.” He twitched here and there but after a while he kept still and let me work. Everything was going perfectly well until his mumbling got more prominent. Originally, it was just funny, as he started talking about cats and batman, some strange dream he must’ve been having, but then everything went downhill when I started hearing my name fall from his lips.

“Y/N…” He muttered, and I spun around from my spot in the kitchen. I shook my head, thinking I must’ve just misheard him or something. But it happened again, this time sounding more like plea.

Cautiously, I walked over to him, setting the thermostat on the end table beside the couch. “Andy, you awake?” But he gave no response. He just repeated my name again. By now I had begun to notice a small bead of sweat forming on his temple, despite the fact that I had managed to get his temperature to a normal balance half an hour ago.

“Please… no…” He started turning from side to side, his hands twitching and clenching in his hand.

What the hell? “Andy, it’s okay, I’m right here,” I said softly, trying to wrestle his hands to be still. He didn’t slow, only becoming more and more anxious.

“Can’t… hurt her,” and now even his shoulders were spazzing out, “get… out…”

Now, as it was probably easy to guess, trying to hold down a convulsing, 6’4 heat stoke patient who was at least a foot taller than you is pretty difficult and I ended up with my legs trying to pin down his torso and my hands holding down his arms.

“Andy, please calm down!” I shouted, trying to wake up the singer.

“Love…her…can’t hurt…her…”

My heart skipped a beat when his words reached my ears. Realization hit me, a baseball bat swung to my chest and Jesus, it hit a home run. Andy, my best friend for over a year, was having a nightmare about me.

“Andy, come on, it’s just a dream, wake up!” His words were rattling in my head. In his tired voice was genuine concern. And there were those few syllables that I couldn’t ignore. Just two, though. ‘Love her’

What did that mean? He surely didn’t mean any more than a friend, right?

He didn’t wake up at all. His twitching only increased to painful thrashing. I couldn’t hold his legs down anymore and I could only barely hold his arms down to the couch. It felt like I was riding a bull it was so difficult. If I let him go he would surely have a stroke.

“Andy, please stop it!” I shouted, and still nothing. So I did all I could do. Without actually thinking things through, I leaned my head down and quickly pressed my lips to his, praying that it might calm him down.

His limbs stilled, the only tremor remaining was a small twinge in his fingertips. Kissing him felt… nice. His lips were surprisingly smooth, and I forgot to pull away. Then, after a few more extended seconds of chaste kisses, I felt a small pressure on the back of my neck, creeping up and tangling itself in my hair. My eyes went wide and I pulled away to see Andy’s bright blue eyes staring back at me, a victorious sparkle within the hue. He was smiling widely, and I grasped the compromising position the two of us were in.

“This isn’t what it looks like!” I shouted as I sprung off of him like a startled cat, scrambling back to the kitchen, blushing furiously.

He laughed, “How else is it supposed to look? Y/N, I knew you liked me but in my sleep, I never would’ve guessed!”

Thoughts ran through my head madly and I had no idea what to do. I mean, how the hell do you even respond to that? “Andy, please-“

The singer stood up, still chuckling mildly, “Last thing I remembered was passing out on set and then someone kissing me? I half expected it to be C.C. giving me mouth to mouth or some shit, so you can see how I was pleasantly surprised.” He droned on, walking over to me as I grew more and more embarrassed. I just kiss my boss when he was sleeping. That was a fucking line I really shouldn’t have crossed.

“I’m sorry, please just let me explain-“ My hands gipped at the edges of the kitchen sink as he approached me.

“I mean, Jake and Ashley said that there’s no way she would make the first move, C.C. said that you did. Guess I owe him ten bucks, huh?” My head was lowered as I came to terms with what was about to happen.

“I’ll get my shit in the after the shoot,” I forced the words out of my clogged throat, my hands shaking.

He raised an eyebrow, “Wait, what?”

I turned around to look at him slowly, “I’m fired, right? I just fucking kissed my boss while he was sleeping…”

He shook his head, “Y/N-“

“Even though I only did it because you got heat stroke and were having a nightmare and some kind of seizure and you were just spazzing on the couch and there really wasn’t anything I could do because Patrick was too cheap to hire a goddamn medic and I-“

“Y/N, listen-”

“Well I did all that I could do but I’m just a P.A. and it was stupid of me to think we were friends and even when I may have thought it was more I just tried to help you so I got on top of you because your legs were shaking and I-“ That was when he grabbed my arm and leaned down in front of me.

“Please, just calm down. I’m not going to fire you, that’s stupid.” He spoke slowly, like he understood the boiling point I was falling over.

I stood, bewildered and backed up against the kitchen sink, registering the space, or lack thereof, between us. “Y/N, what I wanted to say is that I really enjoyed that, okay?”

“What… are you saying…” The very concept of someone else ever enjoying kissing with me was so foreign I couldn’t even fathom it.

“Jesus, you’re dense,” Andy whispered, before pressing his lips against mine. Even though I had done the exact same thing moments before, I still felt utterly taken aback when he initiated it, though. The fireworks were more prominent, they were brighter than before. Electricity sparked though my skin as his hands slipped down to my side to rest on my hips. The taste of the hot sun of his still-warm lips was addictive and I couldn’t get enough of it. The only thing that made me pull away was the burning need for oxygen in my lungs.

“Wow,” I gasped out, taking deep breaths of air.

He grinned, “Yeah… wow.”

After a moment of awkward silence, he said, “So, maybe after we get out of the goddamn Sahara desert, think maybe we could get a coffee or something?”


I fucking loved/hated writing this. I mean, I was considering turning this into smut but I honestly have no idea how to actually write smut. I mean I read it plenty, who doesn’t, but really I have no blues clues how to do this shit.

Anybody got any tips for me?

@corruptedkid @mcrxreader @pink-samurai-glitter @vawkwardme @blackveilbridesfanfiction-com @heymoonrydenwasreal @maddiemoo16602