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British people aren’t real.
Fact.
Vi knows this because abso-fucking-lutely no one talks like that and is serious about it.
The issue is her girlfriend, Caitlyn Kiramman, the hottest woman to grace Penn State, brilliant international student, the most bashful well of knowledge she’s ever met is actually very real.
Though the fact that the bluenette is her girlfriend sort of retroactively proves that she isn’t real either.
It’s a bit convoluted. She knows that, but hear her out.
Because if Vi’s honest, someone like Caitlyn made no sense going out with someone like her, a rowdy brawler from the bayou. It didn’t fit, it didn’t compute with Caitlyn in her sleek turtlenecks and trousers. Name-brand designer everything from her bag to her sunglasses. A passport that’d been marked by nearly every inch of the globe.
She was beauty, grace, and had a name with a legacy that meant something and was destined to leave her mark upon the world.
In comparison to Vi, who barely made it out of the south with a full ride. Draped in her trusty ten pack of white and black tees—some cropped for a different look occasionally— covered by a hand-me-down jacket from her adoptive step father she’d never part with. Making her own reckless path with shoes beat up and haggled off whatever thrift shop she wandered into. Just hoping to get a job so that she could actually live comfortably while sending money to her family to take the burden off Vander’s shoulders of having too many kids with too little space.
Decidedly different walks of life and upbringings. So yeah, Caitlyn Kiramman was practically a mythical creature to her. She had thought as much when she heard the first strike of that posh tone softly correct her explanation on a brief during their international law class last semester.
A space where Caitlyn positively dominated and had undeniably caught the attention of the southern pinkette as well as the entire class. The bluenette’s execution in all manner of formal behavior asked of them as young aspiring lawyers and purveyors of justice all came so smoothly for the international student. From her delivery of complex legal jargon with the same ease of naming colors, to her memory that seemed to pull case law references within an instance of mentioning anything of relevance.
Vi wasn’t stupid by any means, hence why she had considered it just a stray stroke of luck in her favor that as much as she’d been caught up in being none-too-subtly into Caitlyn, the feeling had been mutual. One semester of pining and fumbling and general blushing over nothing other than her gaze crossing with a pair of mismatched blue to her own grey had led them to being together in perhaps the oddest pairing there was, but worked in the sort of sporadic rhythm that sat comfortably for them.
Anyway.
Being mushy and gay wasn’t the point.
The point was that just as Caitlyn constantly proves the British are real, she equally disproves it. Because just as striking as Caitlyn’s tongue had been in the classroom, Vi couldn't help but be unreasonably charmed by her accent out of an academic setting.
Full transparency where it was due, she’s become obsessed with the way the bluenette’s tongue wraps around her full name in exasperation, in amusement, whichever way didn’t matter. She just liked hearing the bluenette saying it. Which was odd in its own right because she occasionally hated her name and the way it felt too soft and vulnerable up against the general badass aura she cultivated. Hence why to everyone else, professor, mentor, and peer alike, she was just Vi.
But she was undoubtedly going soft at every utterance of being Caitlyn’s Violet.
The lingo that came with the accent however has been the source of a great many situations that throw her so far right she left the conversation entirely.
~~~
The quad wasn’t a strange place to spot the duo of blue and pink. A place where they lounged and enjoyed the pleasant gap between their classes. Where they tried to catch a bit of fresh air amidst the slew of stifling old air that plagued the buildings around campus.
Caitlyn hummed at her side, their shoulders resting against one another as their backs rested against the base of the tree they sat under. No different to any other day as Caitlyn wrapped her arm around Vi’s elbow folding closer to her with a delicate shiver.
“It’s quite nippy today.”
Pure instinct drew Vi’s eyes to her chest. Not that that was particularly hard because, well, it was Caitlyn and she was admittedly a big fan of the infamous Kira-mountains. Only for the bluenette to scoff playfully. Mushing her face away as she made it worse with her next utterance of-
“Don’t be a dogger, I meant the weather, Violet.”
Vi sputtered with a snort. Body rebounding easily to settle against the other woman once more like a magnet. “Dogger??”
Caitlyn nodded firmly, nose turning up primly, side eyeing her with a raised teasing brow, “a shag hound, a horn dog if you prefer.”
“You’re just fucking with me.”
Caitlyn rolled her eyes.
~~~
Caitlyn had not been apparently fucking with her as she’d looked it up. Dogger was consequently something she couldn’t help but continuously parrot anytime Caitlyn’s hands got a bit adventurous. The other woman prone to the habit of allowing her hands to slip from their grip at Vi’s waist to her ass in the most unsubtle adjustment known to humanity.
Which was probably her shooting herself in the foot considering they had yet to, ya know, go the distance. But Vi couldn’t help herself. And the way Caitlyn bewildered look at her poor mimicry of her accent didn’t really make her feel like she was missing out. They’d get there when they felt like it, but it would take getting through a few more nonsensical slips.
~~~
There were very few places Vi actually enjoyed around campus, especially when it came to food. Yeah, she was white, but fuck did it feel like everywhere from the on-campus cafes to the nearby fast food spots lacked the concept of salt or pepper. It genuinely made part of her weep. Plus with the fact that her place's kitchen was hardly a functioning microwave and an airfryer she’d scrounged up, she couldn’t even really do much to sustain herself.
Which is why finding Jericho’s, a nice little hole in the wall that actually understood how to cook something that tasted like it was cooked to bring happiness, was a blessing. It also served a dual purpose of her own sort of haven from the majority of her peers. As they wouldn’t dare step in the door that was grease-stained with a bunch of random images of food with no descriptive breakdown of having been sourced from the clearest lakes of the Himalayas or whatever.
Meaning outside of the local patrons, it was nearly exclusively her spot. And she’d wanted to share it with Caitlyn, even gone so far as to order for both of them and everything. Which is why she wasn’t surprised when Caitlyn was immediately skeptical.
“What exactly…is it?”
The hesitance was amusing purely because she could tell how much of a brave face her girlfriend was putting on for the occasion.
“Dunno,” She responded casually, bringing up another forkful of her own platter as she continued munching away gleefully.
Caitlyn’s focus snapped to her instantly. Bright blue narrowed at her as her other brow disappeared behind her eyepatch, a result of the crease that formed in her forehead as she processed Vi’s words.
“Pardon?”
“Dunno, don’t care, and…” Her gaze drifted to Jericho. The man in a hair net, despite being bald. Apron littered with mismatched stains. Stood in the kitchen viewing window and visibly mid-scratch at the back of his neck before focusing back on the food in front of him. She looked back at Caitlyn’s poorly contained face of horror. “I’m definitely not about to ask questions now.”
“Right…”
Honestly, it was as if the bluenette was sentenced to the gallows with how tenderly she picked up her fork and knife. Which already had laughter building in Vi’s chest as they were both plastic, and the knife would be better served as a toothpick rather than cutting through much of anything.
Still, Vi gave her props for scooping up an earnest bite. Obvious breaths puffing from her as she built her nerve before closing her eyes and diving in.
She can’t help the way laughter truly bursts out of her as a full-body shiver wracks through Caitlyn’s body as if she’d just had a bomb go off in her mouth.
Ever polite, her hand desperately nabbed up the napkin at her side before spitting out the sum from her mouth.
“Blimey, that's horrendous.”
That had set off another round of laughter as Vi leaned away from her plate, desperately trying not to choke on her own food as Caitlyn blanched at the culinary assault.
“Yeah, I know, that’s why I never order it. Glad we established you’re not a fan of corned beef hash, or we would have been on the rocks.”
Suddenly, Jericho was at the table, taking the plate away before replacing it with another option.
“I thought you said there was no menu.”
“There isn’t, but I know what I see. Try that instead, it’s just lollipopped chicken but his sauce is killer, in a good way this time, I promise.” Her mischievous grin turned just that bit more earnest as she urged the plate to the bluenette woman.
“You’re such a scoundrel, darling.” Caitlyn tsked, mild irritation having her manners fall away for a moment as she grabbed up a leg and bit down. A soft snicker escaped Vi at the words and her chest puffed up as this time, when Caitlyn recoiled, it was from shock rather than outright appall. “Oh my gracious.”
“Yeah,” Vi took another hearty bite as she watched a gleam cross Caitlyn’s eye while she took another bite of her own, the sauce smearing just at the edge of her lips with her eagerness. “I know, good right?”
Caitlyn hummed in assent, letting Vi reach across to swipe the mess away before she popped her thumb in her own mouth before they both properly dug in.
~~~
Vi lived for Caitlyn’s reactions. Good or bad, it was always hilarious to pull those knee-jerk phrases from the other woman. A level of unfilteredness that made her all the more aware just how lucky she was to know the bluenette beyond the lecture hall.
But most of the time, she was seeking out such reactions. Baiting her into letting her guard down. Which is why she should’ve anticipated that now was an optimal time for another truly horrendous turn of phrase to escape.
They were at Caitlyn’s apartment. Hands wandering over one another. Their books and notes teetering on the edge of fully falling off the bed. But neither of them had the capacity to intervene with their lips pressed to the other with growing desperation as their pulses raced, legs tangled.
A sort of flow took over, making it so it was nearly impossible to tell where Caitlyn ended and she began. She truly hadn’t come over with this in mind, but she’d rather jump into the sea than stop what was building between them as Caitlyn gripped her ass, urging her down atop her with a greedy moan.
Fuck.
Yeah, studying could wait. She was finally about to get laid and nothing in the world was getting in her way. As such her hands glided up Caitlyn’s shirt, grabbing the hem and finally pushing to the next level as she encouraged it over the bluenette’s head. Pausing for a moment to realize there had been no bra underneath letting her stare unabashedly at the dusky brown tipped mounds that had her mouth flooding with the need to have her fill.
As she tilts down, mouth aimed to latch onto one delectable treat, her hip grinds down unconsciously to the expanse of leg between her own. Immediately, Caitlyn hisses, bucking into her as nails dig sharply in her nape, as Vi feels something hard prod back at her hip.
She draws back, not out of surprise but apologetic, she’d never been with a girl with a dick, but she was sure someone's weight on it did not feel good.
“Sorry, baby, too much?”
Caitlyn huffed out some breaths, eyes mildly dazed. “Oh, good heavens no.” Her head shook lightly, “It just seems I’ve gone a wee brickie, haven’t I?”
Vi practically felt her brain cycle through a forced processing shutdown as the words danced off Caitlyn’s tongue.
….
Wee…
Brickie…
They were minutes from what Vi was certain would be the best sex of her life and her girlfriend had hit her with the phrase…
Wee. Brickie. In relation to her having a hard on, a boner, hell, Caitlyn admitting to being bricked up she would’ve rolled with. But wee-fucking-brickie was simply beyond her capabilities to skirt by like it was nothing.
A dial-up tone practically rang through her head as Caitlyn went red under her at her slack-jawed stare.
So yeah, British people weren’t real. Britain as a whole producing ‘slang’ like that had to be a social experiment. Or one mass hallucination. Because never has Vi circulated between extreme horny to devastating gut-wrenching levels of laughter more swiftly than in this moment as she started out right wheezing around her laughter.
Her body practically collapsed once more falling into Caitlyn’s neck to fruitlessly assure her she was not laughing at her, but that she was definitely laughing at her. Something she wanted to clarify, but the strain of her laughter made words a foreign concept, especially as Caitlyn groaned and went limp under her.
“Vi, please not now.”
Decidedly unamused in the slightest, even as her hand rose to rub soothingly along the pinkette’s back.
“God I- ahahahehe- fuUUuck- hehe- weeEEeEeE br- br- BrIckIEEE- pfttt-”
An exhale puffed over her head, ruffling her short-cropped hair.
“Violet, please, we’re adults.”
As put-together as Caitlyn loved to act, the mirth underneath her tidy tone was not lost on her. With laughter still rattling through her shoulders, she propped up. Her hands bracketing in the bluenette underneath her as her mouth ran without a thought.
“I- It’s s’okay. I love you and your wee brickie, Cait.”
Caitlyn stiffened under her as she continued chortling for a long moment.
Before her own words caught up to her.
What.
The.
Fuck.
“You love me?”
Well shit, so she had actually said that. After dating for only three months.
There goes all her fucking street cred for life. Done in by a bit of brickie action and she totally forgot how to be a normal person instead of a tragic lesbian trope that couldn’t help but fall hard and fast.
But first and foremost, she wasn’t a punk. Which meant she held to her word above all else. So even as she swallowed thickly, amusement swiftly staunched for the moment, her head nodded hesitantly.
“Yeah I- sorry, is that…okay?”
A breathless rush left Caitlyn as slowly that adorable gap between her teeth was put on display by a wide smile as her head bobbed in return.
“More than okay, darling.” Before she could blink, she found herself rolled onto her back, staring up at Caitlyn as she tried to swallow through the nerves that had made her heart hammer in her chest and a knot lodge in her throat. “Now that that’s settled. Could we get back on track so that I can show you just how thoroughly I love you, too. Or do you still need a moment?”
“Nope!” Her response snapped out more like a broken squeak than she intended. She cleared her throat before trying again. “No, I’m uh all good.”
A few provable facts came of that night. The utmost realization that she was definitely a fan of Caitlyn’s wee brickie. That she was utterly down bad and didn’t have to worry about being so, seeing as Caitlyn was just as hopelessly gone for her in return. And that at the end of the day, British people were not real and no one should speak like that. Unalienable truths that Vi would hold onto for the rest of her days and get a kick out of every time Caitlyn so much as asked for a spot of tea.