Early greetings, late nights.
Andér x Reader (Gender not specified)
Request from @isthatmaryanna : hi!! could you write a imagine with ander? where he’s not gay and fall in love with the reader at a party and the finds out she’s the new girl from las encinas and then their first kiss
Gif is not my own (But this gif is literally my favourite thing - I’ve rewatched it so much😂😭)
Requests are open❤️
“Okay but I’m not saying I’ll hate it,” You defend, “But I definitely won’t fit in.”
Omar laughs from beside you, “Definitely not, please don’t become one of them.”
“Do you think it will be that bad?” You ask as you hand him another one of the glasses to set up for the night at the club.
“It will be worse, (Y/n),” He grins, “You’ll forget all about me!”
“How could I ever?” You gasp, handing him the final glass before tossing the kitchen towel over your shoulder, “You’re already ditching me for this shift so you owe me one. When I need saving at school, you need to be there.”
He grins and steps through the opening of the bar, “Of course, I’ll be your knight in dodgy-shiny armor.”
- - - - - -
It’s a busy night at the club and you find yourself counting down the minutes until Omar would return for his late shift so you could escape for the night. It felt like you were serving carbon copies of every single person - the same drinks, the same smug looks as they assumed you’d never be able to pay for it.
“What can I get you?” You ask the same question as you clean off another of the taps and toss the towel over your shoulder.
When you look up, the eyes looking back arent like the rest. They’re piercing and lit up by a light smile as you look back. He looks about your age, dressed in an open shirt and white tee - a simple, understated look. But the curls on his head give him a boyish, friendly characteristic.
You swallow the lump in your throat, “What would you like to drink?”
He smirks gently, “I’ll take a scotch please... Omar?”
You glance down at your uniform and chuckle, “Not my uniform, but nice try!”
You go about grabbing the bottle and glass to make his drink, trying your best to not notice how his eyes followed you for the entire time. He seemed interesting. Like he had a personality beyond the money his parents bank account held.
“Shall I put it on the tab?” You offer, going to tap the screen to put his drink through.
“I’ll be back for another soon enough,” He raises the drink to you and turns away, only glancing back once as he takes a second take in your direction.
You try to stop yourself from getting too flustered as you serve the next customer, and the next.
- - - - - -
“Alright (Y/n)!” Omar calls as he comes behind the bar, “You’re done for the night, go home and feel bad for me.”
“So it’s (Y/n).”
You go to reply to Omar but stop instantly when you hear the words. The boy from earlier was stood at the bar, evidently expecting a second attempt at learning a little more about you. And Omar handing that attempt to him with ease.
“Maybe you won’t be going straight home,” Omar wiggles his prominent brows, “Give me my name tag and get out of here.”
You laugh and unclip it, untying your apron and handing that to him too, “I’ll see you tomorrow, Omar.”
The boy walks the length of the bar until he pushes through enough to meet you where you’d be exiting for the end of your shift.
“What do you say to having my second drink with me?” He suggests, leaning close to ask you the question.
You glance at him once more and smile a little, “I say I’ll have whatever you’re having, I’ll be back down in five.”
Hurriedly, you push through the staff door and grab your things to at least make yourself a little more presentable. You comb your hair through and try to perfect your appearance just slightly - though there was only so much it could improve by whilst you were still wearing this uniform.
When you get back downstairs, the boy is leaning against a nearby wall with two glasses of scotch in his hands. He pushes off and grins a little when he sees you.
“I thought you might have found a back exit and left me alone,” He comments, handing over one glass to you.
“I tried, it was locked,” You joke, having to yell over the music blaring through the room.
He gestures over for the two of you to go to one of the emptier corners of the club and settles a hand on your back with such ease as he leads to over.
“You seemed so set on knowing my name, you never told me yours,” You point out, taking a sip of the drink and wincing at the taste.
“Ander Muñoz,” He responds, dipping his head to speak to you.
Muñoz. That name sounded oddly familiar.
“You enjoy working here?”
“Serving a bunch of snooty rich people that just complain about us not having the right champagne or not making their drinks fast enough? It’s a dream!”
He laughs and it makes his eyes crinkle and dimples appear on his cheeks, “Is it really that bad?”
“They pay me so I can’t complain,” You shrug, “And I have Omar.”
“So am I one of them?” He raises his brows, “The snooty rich people?”
You laugh a little and shake your head, “You tell me Ander Muñoz.”
Before he can say anything more, somebody knocks into the back of him and causes him to stumble into you, tipping his drink onto both of you a little.
“Do you want to get out of here?” He suggests, setting down the empty glass onto a table.
“Yeah, definitely,” You nod, swigging back the rest of the drink with a hiss and setting your glass next to his.
- - - - - -
It’s another three quarters of an hour later when you find yourself still strolling around the empty streets with him. You’d talked about anything and nothing and were yet to get to a point where the conversation ceased.
“Okay, where in this town do you go to then?” He asks you, having grown jokingly tired of you mocking his ‘rich boy’ lifestyle.
You laugh a little, “You want to see how the other half live?”
“Please, do tell, (Y/n),” He smirks, looking at you expectantly.
You reach out a hand for him to lace with his own and tug him out of the path you’d been following, “Down this way.”
Your hands stay locked the whole way as you eventually reach the docks and you lead him up the steps to the top of the bridge.
“Isn’t this just where people do drug deals?” He laughs, stumbling behind to catch up with you and hold your hand a little firmer.
“Well, yeah,” You admit, “But at night, you get the best view of the stars.”
You let go of his hand and push yourself up onto the edge, shifting your weight until you sit on the edge with your legs dangling over.
“Woah, woah, careful!” He holds out his hands like he’d have any hope of catching you.
“Don’t worry,” You laugh, turning and laying down on the hard surface so you could look up to the sky above.
“Isn’t there a much safer way of seeing the fucking stars?” He mutters to himself as he mirrors your actions opposite you.
“Nobody ever did anything good by being safe,” You roll your eyes, glancing up to watch as he cautiously lowers himself to lay against the rock.
You two stay in silence for a while as you watch the stars stationary in their movement, until one comes shooting across as if by fate.
“I think that’s a good sign,” He comments quietly, voice a little raspy from the lack of conversation.
“So, Mr Muñoz, was this up to scratch for showing you what I do for fun around here?” You raise yourself to sit on the stone and swing your legs back over.
He hops down and dusts off his jeans, “Id say you need to find yourself some friends and get yourself to some parties.”
You laugh and can’t help your heart from bubbling as his hand finds yours again.
“I should probably get home, I have a big day tomorrow,” You comment, walking slowly back down the steps from the bridge with him.
“What’s happening tomorrow?”
“Let’s not talk about that,” You shake your head with a half-laugh.
“Then I should get you home as soon as possible,” With that, he dips down in front of you and hoists you onto his back until he has a firm grip on your thighs, “Your carriage has arrived.”
He somehow manages to carry you the whole way home, complaining whenever you made him laugh as you found yourself in hysterics - blaming it solely on the fatigue and that scotch in your empty stomach.
“Well, I’ve had a very good night, Ander,” You smile as he sets you back down, “You’ve slightly restored my faith in the other half of society.”
“Slightly?” He cocks a brow.
“There’s always room for improvement,” You smirk, leaning in to kiss his cheek, “Goodnight Ander.”
He stops you there until you’re close enough that your nose knocks against his. And he musters every piece of courage he had left in him to kiss you for the first time - soft and very much aware that you could easily pull away. When you don’t, his courage dials way back up and he cups your face in his hands with ease, like they were always meant to be there. It’s longing and you regret not starting this earlier in the evening.
“Goodnight, Ander,” You repeat as you pull away, slightly more breathless now.
“Can I get your number at least?” He asks as you go to walk towards your apartment block.
“Something tells me I’ll see you very soon anyway,” You confirm, heading inside before any other part of you could convince you otherwise.
- - - - - -
You’re shown around school by one of the admin staff who explains to you what to expect from your new student role at Las Encinas. You’d already noticed a few people that you’d served at the bar multiple times and tried to avoid too many peoples prying eyes on the new kid as you reach your new class.
“Class, we have a new student joining us today,” The teacher stands up as you go to walk in, “I’m sure you’ll all be very welcoming to (Y/n).”
There’s only one student that you’re focused on as the name is spoken. Sat in the back on the far side of the class is none other than Ander. That’s where you’d known the name from - his Mum was the fucking principal! He glances in your direction and quickly turns away, unable to stop the smile from crawling onto his face as he shifts a little in his chair.
“There’s a seat beside Ander if that’s okay,” The teacher mentions, gesturing over to the boy you were meant to not know yet.
You nod and take the adjacent seat to him, setting your book onto the table.
“So, last night was fun,” He smirks, handing you a pen, “Maybe now would be a good time for me to get that number.”
You roll your eyes, “When I said soon, I didn’t think I’d be seeing you the next morning.”
Nevertheless, you scribble down your number onto some paper and hand it back to him.
“Definitely seems like we’ll be seeing more of each other now, (y/n).”
And it suddenly becomes impossible to complain about his slightly cocky demeanour.
“I guess we will, Mr Muñoz.”