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Remington Leith x Andy Biersack oneshots


A bunch of Remdy oneshots that wattpad took down

Romance / Erotica
Age Rating:


Andy and Remington, two young musicians, share rent. That’s it. They're nothing more than flatmates. They’ve been living together in the two bedroom apartment for almost half a year now. They’re friendly with one another but generally keep to themselves, and are both happy with the arrangement.

Today, just like most days, Remington is humming along to music on the radio while making himself some lunch. He spreads soft cheese on bread, turning to look at Andy when the man comes into the room.

Andy opens the fridge, which is right beside Remington. “You seen the weather?” He asks, piking up a bowl of risotto from last night.

“What? No. Why?”

Andy shrugs. He closes the fridge. “It’s wild. I swear I thought I was gonna blow away.”

Remington slices cheese. “That’s crazy,” he says, preoccupied with trying not to stare at the older. His closeted self can get so entranced in Andy’s beauty.

“Y’alright, babe?” Andy asks, the pet name one of his staples.

The boy nods, turns his attention back to the slicing the cheese. “Yep.”

“D’you want coffee?”

“Oh, sure,” Remington says, “thanks.” He hears Andy fill the kettle and lays the cheese onto the bread.

Andy hums along to the pop song on the radio while spooning coffee granules into two red mugs.

For a few minutes, the two are quiet, dodging around each other in the kitchen. Remington thanks Andy for the coffee and finds a packet of crisps in the cupboard, opening them and taking his lunch into the living area. He scrolls through Instagram on his phone while eating, until Andy joins him on the couch with the risotto. “That smells so good,” Remington observes, looking over at Andy.

The man smiles. “Want some?” He asks casually, “I’ll swap a bite of your sandwich for a forkful of this.”

Remington raises an eyebrow. “Oh, sure, here.” He hands his sandwich to Andy, looking away for a moment.

“Mm, here,” Andy returns, holding the fork towards Remington and encouraging him to take it in his mouth.

Remington does, profusely trying not to let his blush show, and it seems to be going well until Andy talks again.

“You’re cute,” he says, as if it’s not a big deal, and goes back to eating his risotto.

The boy looks away, embarrassed, and says nothing. He lets his phone steal his attention away from the god-like man beside him, commenting on his brother’s post to pass time and standing up once he’s finished his sandwich.

“Not gonna say it back?” Andy asks, just as Remington is in the doorway. He knows the affect he has on the younger.


Andy shakes his head. “Never mind, babe,” he chuckles, watching Remington step through the door.

The young singer comes back with just the packet of crisps, collecting his phone from the table and freezing when Andy puts a hand over his. “What?” He asks, doing his best to contain himself.


Remington pulls his hand away. “Okay,” he says, slowly, and turns to leave.

“Wow, you’re so oblivious.”


Andy chuckles again. “Closeted gays,” he says, “so oblivious.”

Remington’s eyes widen. How does Andy know he’s gay? He hasn’t told anyone.

“Oh, come on. I see how you look at me when you think I’m not looking. All glassy-eyed and lusty. Y’know, babe, I’m kinda surprised me feeding you didn’t give you a boner.”

“I’m not gay,” Remington insists weakly. “Why would you give me a boner?”

“Whatever you say, cupcake.”

“D’you just go round calling every man you see gay? Is that-like-your thing?”

Andy, again, for the third time, chuckles. Remington thinks it might give him a hard on if he’s not careful.

“Well?” Remington asks.

“I just know a gay guy when I see one, babe. Noth’n wrong with that, now, is there?”

Remington shrugs. “Well clearly you’re not as good at is as you thought. Because I am not gay.”

“Honestly, you can lie all you want, we both know you are.”

“Okay, well this has been a lovely chat, but I’m gonna-”

“Gonna go masturbate?” Andy cuts in.

Remington shakes his head quickly. “No. Ew, why would I-you know what, don’t even answer that. I’m going to my room, where I can be straight in peace. Thank you, good bye.”

Andy looks back at his phone with a laugh. “You go be straight in peace, cupcake. D’you want a ruler to make sure you’re being straight enough?”

“Oh, fuck you,” Remington curses, holding up his middle finger. “Think you’re clever, huh?”

“Not clever, just right. And, for the record, I’m always the one fucking, babe.”

Remington scoffs. “I bet you have men tied up in your closet just so you can fuck them.”

Andy puts his phone down. “Yeah, you wish.”

“I actually think I hate you,” Remington announces, “seriously, you wanna just dial it down on the crazy gay man shit?”

“Crazy gay man shit? That’s you right now.”

Remington raises an eyebrow. “Oh yeah? How? That’s literally impossible, I’m-”

“You’re so straight that you’ve got a boner from arguing with me,” Andy finishes, and Remington jerks his head down to check.

“No I don’t!”

“I know. Just wanted to see how you’d react. If you were actually straight, you never would have believed me.”

Remington doesn’t know how to respond. Andy is right. “Do you get off on tormenting people?”

“Guess you’ll just have to find out, won’t you?”

“Okay, great talk. I’ve learned so much-”

“Yeah, like that you’re one hundred percent gay.”

“Shut the fuck up!”

The man chuckles and shakes his head, amused. “There ain’t noth’n wrong wrong with admitting it, y’know?”

“Admitting what? I’m not gay!”

“Babe, no one believes you.”

“Babe, no one cares.” He turns to leave.

“Good thing, then, considering you’re gay.”

Remington sends him a glare. “You’re a dick,” he says under his breath.

“Same to you, cupcake. Have a fantastic time ‘being straight’. I look forward to the day you come out.”

“Not gonna happen.”

Andy gets up off the couch and quietly approaches Remington, the boy unaware because he has his back turned. “Wanna bet?” He asks, almost in a whisper.

Remington spins around, surprised. “Fuck off, you’re a creep.” He pushes Andy away with a hand on his chest, realising he likes the feeling and trying not to let it show.

“Babe,” Andy begins, “you know your hand is still on me, right?”

The boy pulls it away.

“C’mon, don’t be scared.”

Remington looks away stubbornly. “Will you please go away?” He asks feebly.

“You sure you want me to?” He walks his fingers up Remington’s bicep until the younger pushes him away again. “No really,” he says, nodding down at Remington’s crotch, “you sure you want me to?”

Remington’s eyes widen. Andy’s kidding again, right? He looks down and can’t bare to look up at meet the man’s gaze.

“Not so straight now, are we?”

“It’s natural,” Remington tries, “it happens.”

Andy chuckles. “Babe, you gotta stop trying so hard. I clearly turn you on. No shame in it. You turn me on, too.”

“I what?”

“Oh, come on. Hot young gay rock singer? Cupcake, you probably turn on every single gay man you walk past in the street. You’re gorgeous.”

Remington steps back. “Excuse me while I file for a restraining order.”

“Ha ha, very funny. No point denying it now, princess. You’re hard and it’s very freaking obvious. Those skinny jeans are doing nothing to help you with hiding it.” He puts his fingers to Remington’s arm again, leaning in and, in a low voice, saying, “look, you can either carry on pretending you’re straight even though you’re clearly not, or you can give in to your desires and kiss me right now.”

Remington gulps. Run away to his room to masturbate or kiss Andy?

“I’m gonna give you five seconds, ’kay? If you’re not kissing me by the time I count down to one, then I’ll go back to pretending you’re straight.” His fingers reach Remington’s neck and he traces over his collar bones, which are just beneath the shirt he’s wearing, and begins slowly counting down from five. The man gets to one and Remington is still standing there, and so he pulls his hand away and sighs. “I see,” he mumbles, disappointed, “looks like the only gay man in this apartment is me.”

Remington stands still as Andy turns and goes back to the couch, touching his collar bone where Andy’s fingers were and taking in a deep breath before dropping the things in his hands, striding over to the man, grabbing his shoulder so he turns around, and kissing him.

Andy runs his hands over Remington’s shoulders and into his hair, kissing him the way he’s been wanting to for pretty much the whole time they’ve been living here. He pushes Remington back until he’s against a wall, gathering the younger’s hands and holding them above his head, pressed against the wall. Remington whimpers, pushing his hips into Andy desperately while the man grips his waist with his free hand.

“So straight,” Andy teases, pressing Remington’s wrists to the wall and smirking when the boy lifts a leg up and wraps it around his waist.

“Shut up,” Remington whines, pressing himself into Andy and gasping when the man bites his skin gently. He pulls his hands from Andy’s grip and grabs the man’s head, pulling him up and kissing him again.

Andy pulls away with a cheeky smile. “Slow down, babe,” he purrs, taking Remington’s hands again and kissing his fingers, mouth lingering there. He holds the boy’s wrists in one hand and draws his other down Remington’s chest. “Shh,” he whispers, “relax, you’re tense.”

“Your hand is inches from my pants, how could I not be tense?”

Andy chuckles. “Close your eyes,” he encourages, “breathe.”

“Breathe, right,” Remington murmurs, doing as Andy said and closing his eyes.

The man smiles. “Breathe,” he repeats, and grabs Remington’s bulge.

Remington breathes out, hands going limp in Andy’s hold.

Andy leans in and kisses the younger again, rubbing his hand over Remington’s crotch as they make out. “I’m unzipping, okay?”

The boy nods quickly, eyes still closed while Andy unzips his pants and eases them over his hips. He finds himself relaxing into the touch slowly, moaning softly every so often.

“Good, huh?” Andy breathes.

Remington hums, opening his eyes to look at Andy, catching the man’s eyes in his own. “What now?” He asks, making Andy raise a humoured eyebrow.

“What now?”


“Well, would you like a choice? I got all sorts up my sleeve for you, babe.”

Remington looks down at Andy’s hand for a moment. “Yes, choice,” he decides.

“Alright, so...” Andy slips his hand under Remington’s boxers.

“Fuck,” Remington stutters, “never mind the choice, I want you to fuck me.”

“You got it,” the older whispers, pressing his lips to Remington’s jaw for a moment before pulling him over to the couch. “Say no and I stop, ’kay?”

Settling on the couch, Remington nods. “Okay,” he agrees, “get the fuck over here.”

Andy chuckles. He climbs over Remington, leaning down and catching him in a way-too gentle kiss. Remington pushes Andy’s shirt up and the man lets him take it off, leaning back down slowly.

For a while, they kiss, hot and hard and desperate, until Andy reaches down to undo his belt and strip from the rest of his clothes. He catches Remington staring and playfully snaps his fingers in front of his face. “I think you’ll find that my face is up here, babe,” he teases, and Remington just lifts his hips up and pulls his underwear down in response. Andy tells him to tun onto his front and, once Remington is settled, slips a finger in.

Remington curses, pushing his ass up automatically.

“I don’t got any lube right at the moment so it might sting a tiny bit,” Andy warns, daringly adding another finger. “I do got a condom somewhere. Wallet, I think.”

Remington moans instead of trying to say anything. If this is what two fingers feels like, what the hell is Andy’s cock going to feel like? He chokes on a breath when Andy adds a third.

The man keeps going with his fingers until Remington seems more comfortable, only then quickly disappearing to find a condom, coming back a moment later with the packet between two fingers, and sits back on Remington’s ankles. “Ready, cupcake?” He asks, rolling the condom on.

“Yes, please,” Remington begs, “just...go slow.”

Andy goes in slow, pausing to give the younger time to adjust. Once Remington nods, he moves, and Remington groans loudly into the cushion beneath him.

“This is-like-so much-oh fuck, it hurts-so much better than straight sex.”

“I know,” Andy groans, pushing his hands over Remington’s shoulders. He starts going harder when the singer asks, through heavy breaths, for him to, and has them both cumming loudly, shouting profanities. Andy ties the condom up and Remington sits up, flushed.

“I’ve got a confession to make,” he begins, getting Andy’s attention. “I’m gay.”

Andy burst out laughing. “Babe, you’re an idiot.”

Remington grins. “A hot one, though, right?”

The man rolls his eyes and gets off the couch to find a bin.

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