Mr Van der Linde | Dutch x Reader

Year I - Term III

Summary: Your worst fear is realised and you come face to face with Mr Van der Linde once more.

Chapter word count: 6,304

"She's still going on about not coming to the party?"

"Yup."

"I am not going on about anything. John was the one that asked me again!" you pointed accusatorily at him, while Karen made herself comfortable on the sofa beside you. Before the disturbance, you were comfortably scrolling away on your laptop in peace and quiet.

"Still don't see why you're not coming," Karen began, "even I'm going. I've never even met Arthur!"

You huffed, unable to explain the truth behind why you didn't want to go to his and Charles' engagement party. For a reason unbeknownst to you, Dutch hadn't said a word to John about what happened. Instead, you received a text from John a few hours after leaving asking where you were, and once you'd explained that you'd been sick all night and decided to go home, he simply wished you a speedy recovery. At first, you'd been anxious, expecting the truth to come out later in the week but he still hadn't said anything. Then the two of you returned to university after the Easter break, and that was that.

While your embarrassment still lingered, you'd slowly gotten over what happened and used the alcohol consumption as an excuse - however much of a cop-out that might've been, but if it helped you sleep at night then so be it – and spent all your energy on the upcoming summer exams. Now, with those out of the way and your group of friends thoroughly in the swing of celebration, you had no reason to deny the invitation to the garden party.

Before you could come up with an excuse, John meandered over with a glass of juice in his hand and sat in the chair opposite you. "You against gay marriage, or something?" he teased.

"You know full well that I'm not."

"That's it, our friend is a confirmed homophobe," he proclaimed, widening his arms as Karen snickered.

"Who's a homophobe?" Sean asked on his way in, spooning some cereal into his mouth from the bowl clutched in his hand.

"Why is everyone in our flat in the first place?!" you asked Karen incredulously, realising a split-second later exactly why Sean was there, and having it confirmed by the way Karen shrunk into the sofa. That still didn't explain John, though he somehow always seemed to let himself in one way or another.

"Stop changing the subject, if you're going to be a bigot you may as well do it with your whole chest," John smarmed.

"I am not!" you threw a cushion at him, "stop being an idiot."

"If you weren't, you'd be coming. You have no viable reason."

"Is this about that party again?" Sean asked as he walked over, but Karen quickly put her foot out and nodded to the sink for him to clean up his dishes. He rolled his eyes and promptly did as he was told.

"I told you; I just don't feel like going to a party," you repeated for what must've been the fifth time that week.

"Who doesn't feel like going to a party?" Karen asked.

John straightened up, gesturing I told you so in your direction. "Exactly."

"I don't see why it matters."

"Dad wants to know numbers."

You shrugged off the mention of Mr Van der Linde and returned your attention to your laptop to hide any expression on your face that might've given you away. "So minus one for me then, since I'm not going."