insatiable | spencer reid x reader
Spencer learns how amazing sex is with you, but gets caught up with work. You show your boyfriend how good it can feel even if you’re not together physically, and he shows you how much he misses you when he gets back.
part 1 - addicted to you | part 2
wc: 4.6k, rating: 18+/explicit
tags/warnings: established relationship, phone sex/video sex, mutual masturbation, public (bathroom) sex, brief mentions of typical BAU stuff (not in detail), meeting the family (literally reader meets the BAU), brief mentions of alcohol, making out, vaginal sex, getting caught (not in the act but afterward lmao)
a/n: this is what an insane person does when they're sick for two days and have nothing better to do over the summer. this is a second part to addicted to you (you don't have to read the first part but it does provide some context for some details within the fic), with inspiration taken from a lovely comment I got on ao3 that made me feel kinda crazy. i included some textfic elements in this fic as well which i hope reads well (bold text is spencer)! also I know early seasons spencer technically sets this around 2005-2007 but they have smartphones and video calling (aka present day) so please suspend your disbelief for the length of this fic lmao (p.s this fic is also on ao3!)
Your boyfriend gets whisked away for work sooner than you expect. Spencer’s supposed to have time off the rest of this week, but you suppose killers aren’t exactly respectful of an FBI agent’s time off of work. It’s downright cruel when he’s called in to work on a Friday evening, when you have dinner and wine set at the table, having gotten ready to spend a quiet, romantic evening in with Spencer.
“I’m so sorry,” he says, rushing to change out of his sweatshirt and joggers into his typical work attire. You stand in the doorway of his room, mildly amused while Spencer panics to put an outfit together. “I know you had a whole evening in planned, but–”
“Don’t be, baby,” you assure him. “You have a killer to catch. Oh, that one– the blue cardigan looks good with those pants. It matches your socks.”
Spencer smiles as he looks up at you, reaching for the navy blue cardigan to his left. He tugs it on rather hurriedly, comes up to you and presses a kiss to your forehead. “You’re the best. I’ll make it up to you, I promise.”
You shake your head. “Just find the bastard quick and come home to me.”
“I know. I will,” Spencer says.
After the both of you found out just how much Spencer liked fucking you, you were really hoping that your weekend together could be spent in his bed, but duty calls. Technically, JJ had called him in, but you’re not concerned about specifics right now.
You spend the evening alone in Spencer’s apartment, half of the wine finished and his TV playing reruns of some show you haven’t been paying attention to. Your eyelids feel heavy, and Spencer’s bed is so comfortable you can’t bring yourself to leave it. That is, until your phone buzzes on Spencer’s nightstand, and you’re suddenly very alert.
I miss you, darling.
> hey, i’m surprised you have the down time to text. i miss you too
I’m really sorry I had to leave so suddenly. We’re on the jet right now.
> i told you it’s okay! i’m surprised the jet has wifi lol
Taxpayer money, I guess? We land in LA in a couple of hours and we’re heading straight to the PD to work on the case.
> my poor boyfriend is working so hard instead of cuddling me in bed :(
How you tempt me, lovely. I’ll be back as soon as I can. Are you going to sleep soon? It’s late.
> yeah i’m staying at yours for the night and maybe until you get back? really miss you already
Okay, that’s good. I know. I’ll call when I’m in the hotel and settled for the day? :-(
> yes please. also stop sending emojis with noses they aren’t supposed to look like that!!!
They aren’t anatomically correct without them. The way you send them
> babe they’re emojis it’s ok if they’re not anatomically correct
Hahaha I love you.
> lol i love you too!
Goodnight, love.
> goodnight spence <3
<3
You can imagine, especially from the way Spencer recounts it, how his coworker Derek must be teasing him about smiling at his phone, about how pretty boy’s lucky lady must be one hell of a woman to get Spencer so smitten.
You would say you’re rather independent, especially in relationships, but Spencer has you acting like a clingy girlfriend. You can’t help but feel an ache in your chest as you long for him while he’s away, feeling like a military wife whose husband is out instead of being normal. To be fair, being with Spencer has never been “normal” – he always has something interesting up his sleeve, or some quirk that makes you even more enamoured with him.
Your Saturday is relatively uneventful, milling about Spencer’s apartment. You laze around in bed for way too long, enough where Spencer would’ve definitely hauled you out of bed himself an hour ago if he were here. You make yourself breakfast, unsurprised that Spencer only has cereal in his pantry and almond milk in his fridge. You sit down with one of his very sophisticated literature books but you don’t get very far with it, and opt to clean Spencer’s apartment instead.
It’s when you’re sweeping the floor that you realise just how much you like Spencer, feeling so strongly attached to him already. You’ve said your ‘I love you’s, given him his firsts. You were staying in his apartment even while he was away– hell, you’re even cleaning his apartment for him.
Just for a moment, you let yourself fantasise about this being your apartment – yours and Spencer’s; about waking up to him every morning, about making breakfast for the both of you that isn’t cereal and almond milk, about coming home to each other instead of an empty apartment.
You sigh and get back to cleaning.
You’re settled into his bed, surrounded by the comforting scent of him when Spencer finally does call. You almost drop your phone in your excitement to pick up.
“Hey! Hi, Spence,” you say, unable to help the smile that’s forming on your face.
“Hello, love,” Spencer answers. He sounds a little tired. You can imagine the little furrow in his brow, obviously exhausted and dissatisfied from a full day’s work of catching some bastard in LA, and you wish you could be there to kiss his frown away. “I miss you.”
“I miss you too, Spencer. Long day?”
“Absolutely,” Spencer sighs tiredly. “This UnSub is so slippery. No convictions, no paper trail, nothing, and he’s killing every other–” Spencer starts to ramble but he catches himself. “Sorry. I won’t talk about work right now. It’s pretty grim.”
“It’s okay,” you hum. “Do you want to talk about work right now?”
Spencer makes a little noise. “No, no. I don’t want to bring that to you. Let’s talk about you. How are you, honey?”
Honey. The name makes your insides feel all gooey, soft and warm and lovely. “I’m- I’m okay. I stayed at your place, cleaned up around here. I’m thankful it’s not as much of a man cave as I thought.”
Spencer laughs through the phone, a breathy chuckle. “Thank you for cleaning up for me, love. It’s just a lot of nerdy stuff, huh?”
“Yeah. It’s endearing. I tried to read one of your books earlier and could barely get past the first ten pages.” You tell him, garnering another chuckle from Spencer. “I like your place a lot.”
“I miss you,” Spencer says again. “Waking up to you and having you around is so much nicer than this dingy hotel room I’m in.”
“Aw. Taxpayer money couldn’t upgrade you to a better room?”
Spencer snorts. “No, but I lucked out on getting the room all to myself.”
There’s a pause as you figure out what to say, and Spencer is quick to follow up, “I didn’t mean–”
“Does this have something to do with you missing me, baby?” You can’t help but grin. Spencer makes a distressed little noise over the line.
“Well, I– Maybe, but we don’t have to–” Spencer stammers, unable to find the words. He’s absolutely adorable.
“I want to, Spence,” you coo. “I miss you so much.”
You hear Spencer exhale shakily. “What– What do I do?”
“A genius like you hasn’t forgotten how to touch himself, has he?” you tease, Spencer whining on the other end at your words. “Does that eidetic memory of yours come with an overactive imagination too?”
“Surprisingly, no. Hyperphantasia is more of being able to visualise different types of situations in one’s mind, and that’s what usually is associated with an overactive imagination. Having an eidetic memory is more about high-precision recall after seeing something even just once. I think having an eidetic memory pretty much ensures you don’t have aphantasia, or the inability to see and create mental images, but yeah.”
Ah, even his nerdy ramblings turn you on.
“So does that mean you can recall the way I looked in bed a few nights ago?” you prod, and you wish you could see how red Spencer must be by now.
“Well, yes. Of course I can. How could I ever forget how beautiful you looked then?” Spencer’s words are sweet, earnest, and you melt.
“Then picture that,” you barely get the words out because you’re so smitten. “Imagine I’m right there with you, Spencer.”
You hear the rustling of the sheets, and Spencer’s little telltale whine as he wraps his hand around himself. “O-Oh–”
“I miss you, Spence,” you drawl. “Miss the way your cock fits inside me. You miss my tight cunt, baby?”
“Your mouth is filthy,” Spencer laughs breathily. “But yeah, I do. You always feel so good around me.”
“You’re touching yourself, yeah?” you ask. You get a little whine from him as an affirmative, but your imagination is running wild – you want to see him. “Can you show me?”
“Yeah, I just– Do you wanna switch it over to a video call? I can’t–”
You laugh at your boyfriend’s lack of technical prowess, tapping at your phone screen until the top half of his face comes up. “Hey, I’m just trying to find a good angle–”
“Don’t just flip the camera and show me your dick, please. That would be so unsexy.” You say.
Spencer furrows his brows. “I was not planning on doing that, for the record.”
You watch the phone move until Spencer comes into frame, the phone likely propped up at the foot of the bed and exposing all of Spencer to you. You might be drooling right now.
“This is… a lot,” Spencer laughs nervously. “I feel so naked.”
“You’re mostly clothed,” you quip.
“Ha ha,” Spencer laughs dryly. “I’ve just… I’ve never done this before.”
“Phone sex? Or calling your girlfriend so you can jerk off for her?”
Spencer gives you a deadpan look. “Both, honey.”
You grin. “I’m glad to be your first. Now, show me how you make yourself feel good, baby.”
Spencer’s cheeks are a gorgeous rosy red when he takes his cock into his hand again, his tip leaking as he strokes himself slowly. With his eyes fluttering shut, Spencer’s lips part as he indulges himself in his pleasure. Like this, you indulge yourself in admiring all of Spencer – the flush on his cheeks that runs down to his neck, his breathy panting as he touches himself to the thought of you.
“Spence,” you sigh. “You’re so pretty.”
His eyes shutter open as he looks at you, somehow even redder than he already was. “You’re the pretty one, darling. Are you– Will you touch yourself for me?”
You hold back your moan as you nod. You were already in your underwear when you had slid into Spencer’s bed, but now all it takes is you sliding your fingers past the waistband to feel how wet you already are between your legs. “Oh, Spence.”
“Do you feel good, love?” he hums, voice only a little bit strained from his immense pleasure.
The embarrassingly loud squelch that results when you sink your fingers into yourself is enough of an answer. Spencer grins, and you’re red in the face as you rock your hips down onto your own fingers. “Shut up.”
“I didn’t say anything, honey,” Spencer laughs. “But I wish I could feel you right now.”
“I know, I miss the way you feel inside me,” you pant. “Please, Spencer–”
“Take off your underwear,” Spencer’s voice is breathy as he pleads with you. “I want to see you.”
You prop your phone up so your angle matches Spencer’s, both of you on full display for each other. You watch the way Spencer’s eyes widen when you slide your panties off, the way his eyes are trained on your figure through the screen. He says, “You’re so wet…”
“All for you, baby,” you sigh, leaning back as you slide two fingers back into yourself. You scissor them rather hastily, craving the hurried way Spencer fucks you. “It’s not the same without you here.”
“I know,” Spencer hums. “You look so good like that. I wish I could make you feel good right now.”
You moan, pushing your fingers into yourself deeper, barely hitting where Spencer reaches easily. The squelch from between your legs is obscene. “You do, baby. You’re making me feel so good, just thinking about you.”
In practically a whisper, Spencer admits, “I want to fuck you so bad right now.”
You let out a weak cry, impossibly turned on by your boyfriend’s filthy admission because you didn’t even think he had it in him to say it so bluntly. You slide your fingers in and out hurriedly, your palm giving you the friction on your clit that you crave so desperately. “Spencer–”
Spencer lets out a strangled cry, muffled behind his hand, when he comes. It’s sudden, Spencer’s load painting the soft skin of his stomach, his cock twitching. You moan as you follow suit, wetness drenching your hand as you ride out your own orgasm, imagining his cock inside of you.
“Oh, fuck.” Spencer gasps, head thrown back as you watch his chest rise and fall as he breathes heavily. His forehead and neck are covered in a light sheen of sweat, and his cock out against the rest of his rather soft, innocent looking outfit is making you giggle just a little.
“You look really hot right now,” you say instead, wishing you could be laying next to him while he recovers.
“I think I should be saying that about you,” Spencer laughs. “You’re gorgeous. You’re so stunning.”
“How long are you going to be away?” You pout. “I like it when I can actually kiss you after you compliment me.”
Spencer smiles sympathetically. “I’ll be back soon, my love.”
“I’ll take phone sex with my boyfriend as a consolation, then.” You wink, making Spencer laugh.
“Remind me not to get too loud, though. I think Emily is in the room next to me and I really hope these walls are thick enough.” He says, sounding vaguely concerned.
You laugh, and stay on the line a little longer just to relish in a peaceful moment with Spencer.
The next day, when you’re out getting groceries to stock up Spencer’s fridge, you get a text from Spencer.
I don’t know how much Emily heard last night, but she’s been looking at me funny all morning.
> lol oops?
If we call again tonight, we might have to keep it down.
> if? not when?
:) I love you so much.
> i know and i love you too :) and you should probably apologise to emily about last night
Well, if we’re calling again tonight then maybe I should just give her one big apology when all of this is over.
> good idea. now go catch your killer so we can go back to having sex irl
Okay!
Unfortunately, Spencer gets too busy to call you again that night, the team working overtime to catch their UnSub, whose kills were escalating exponentially. You don’t find yourself bothered by it, by Spencer disappearing for the night with nothing more than a message sent your way, instead relishing in the fact that it’ll feel even more rewarding when he comes home.
You’ve never felt this way before, craving Spencer so desperately while he’s away at work. While you’ve only been together a couple of months, you respect that Spencer’s work takes up a lot of his time. It doesn’t mean you don’t miss him, though, as much as you enjoy your alone time.
All of the team’s hard work pays off, though, because they’re storming into the UnSub’s lair by Monday afternoon, and Spencer texts you when you’re just clocking out of the office.
Great news! We caught the guy. We’re packing up at the PD and coming home soon.
> omg!!! that’s so great
The team wants to go out for celebratory drinks.
> you should totally go ahead and celebrate with them spence! you guys worked your asses off on this case
We did. But I’m telling you because I want you to join us. I want you to meet the team too.
> oh? i would love to but are you sure they want me there?
Of course, sweet girl. Derek wants to know who has me smiling at my phone half the time, and Emily is asking who I’m calling in the middle of the night.
> omg so she did hear you
… I think so, love.
> … i will apologise to her tonight then
I’ll send you the address. Love you
> love you too spence <3
There’s just enough time for you to get home and change into a nice outfit – a tight, red dress that hits your mid-thigh, your hair curled and your makeup touched-up before you head to the bar Spencer’s sent you the address to. While you know Spencer’s team is lovely, you do want to make a good first impression.
You see Spencer’s gangly form at the bar when you get there, the rest of his team facing away from you as they get their drinks. You see Spencer’s face brighten as he spots you, raising his hand and waving to you excitedly. The rest of his team notices, and turns to look at you too. You would be shy at all the attention, but Spencer’s unabashed adoration of you, especially in front of all his friends, is giving you more than enough confidence to walk up to the group.
“Hello,” you smile, and the warmth you feel from the team makes you feel welcome already. “It’s nice to meet you all.”
You shake hands with Hotch and Rossi as you introduce yourself. While you had heard of Hotch as a rather cold, serious Unit Chief, the way he warmly smiles at you makes you feel at ease. “So, you’re Spencer’s girlfriend. It’s great to finally meet you.”
“It’s great to meet you too, sir,” you answer rather instinctively, making both Rossi and Hotch laugh heartily.
“Aaron might be Reid’s boss, but he certainly isn’t yours,” Rossi chuckles.
Before you can feel embarrassed by it, you get pulled into a tight, warm hug by Penelope, and when she lets you go, JJ hands you a drink, and Derek and Emily are regarding you with knowing smirks.
“Reid, you are one lucky man,” Derek says, after pulling you into a welcoming hug. “Don’t mess this up, lover boy.”
“I know,” Spencer says, his hand reaching for yours. You lace your fingers with Spencer’s, squeezing his hand comfortingly. “And I won’t mess this up.”
“Lover boy is right, considering what I overheard the other night,” Emily says, looking at you and Spencer pointedly. JJ also has a knowing smile on her face, and you feel your cheeks get hot.
“I’m really sorry about that, Emily,” you smile sheepishly. “I hope Spencer’s apologised for it too.”
“Again, I’m sorry you had to hear that,” Spencer says, purposefully avoiding eye contact with Emily. “I would say ‘We won’t do it again’, but…”
You shriek amidst the laughter of Spencer’s coworkers, Spencer laughing along as he holds onto your waist. You feel adored, so readily welcomed by Spencer’s friends, and you feel like you belong, by Spencer’s side.
After you chat with the rest of the team for a little more, they eventually disperse to do their own things, leaving you and Spencer alone. Spencer looks at you with such adoration in his eyes and you feel like you’re going to melt. “Hi,” he says warmly.
“Hi, Spence,” you say. “I missed you.”
“I missed you too,” Spencer smiles. “But I’m here now.”
“You are,” you breathe, giddy with excitement, and lean in to kiss him. It’s a quick peck, but Spencer pulls you back in like you’re the air he needs to breathe. He kisses you deep, eager, pouring every drop of himself into you. His hands cup your face sweetly, kissing you until you feel breathless.
“Oh my God, Spencer,” you giggle when he finally pulls back, eyes wild as he regards you. “You really missed me, huh?”
“You have no idea,” Spencer laughs.
“Do we need to pretend to keep our hands off each other or do you just want to go and make out in the bathroom?” You say simply. You don’t expect Spencer to be down, considering how quickly he’d rattle off the statistics about the germs in a public bathroom, but Spencer smiles at you and pulls you toward the single stall.
You’re thankful it’s a relatively big, clean-looking single stall bathroom, Spencer locking the door behind you as you lean back against the sink. Spencer’s taller figure crowds you in with ease, and you feel swallowed up by him as he kisses you again. He’s desperate, eager as his tongue slips into your mouth, his little noises so deliciously sinful as you kiss him back.
“Spence–” you gasp, in between kissing Spencer back. “Oh, baby–”
“What we did over the phone wasn’t enough,” he murmurs, eyes unblinking as he gazes at you. “I need you right now.”
Sure enough, Spencer’s hard in his pants. He pushes his hips forward, pressing his erection against your thigh. You whimper, drawing your lower lip between your teeth. “Please, Spence. You can take me right here, right now.”
You feel just as desperate as Spencer seems, his hands eager as they roam up your body. He’s eager to touch and squeeze and grope whatever he can get his hands on, and you relish in the way his large, sturdy hands grab your thighs, your waist, your breasts.
“You look so good tonight, my love,” Spencer grunts as he presses his face to your neck, his lips kissing up the column of your neck hurriedly. “So gorgeous. Letting me show you off to all my friends too– Thank you, you’re so perfect–”
“Spencer,” you gasp, hand sliding down to rub at his hard-on. You’re so turned on by how aroused Spencer is already, from just kissing you, from just touching you. “Fuck me, please?”
Spencer exhales shakily, lifting you up slightly so you can sit back on the countertop, your legs spread to accommodate Spencer between them. You’re soaked through your underwear, and you watch Spencer marvel at the sight. His hands are shaking slightly as he undoes his belt, pushing his pants down just enough to get his cock out. He’s hard and heavy and leaking, and you find yourself drooling as he strokes himself momentarily.
Spencer’s biting his lower lip in utter concentration, pushing your dress up and out of the way. You expect his hands to slide your panties off, but instead his fingers push the fabric aside, revealing your slick, wet entrance that he presses the head of his cock to. “Oh–”
“Like this,” Spencer says, breathless, his sentence not even fully coherent but you understand, especially when Spencer pushes the tip of his cock into you. You muffle a sob into your hand, feeling so on edge as you accommodate Spencer’s length.
The burn is perfect, the slow drag of his cock inside of you teetering between pain and pleasure. It’s a primal urge the both of you desperately need to fulfil, and the way he presses into you satiates you so perfectly. Your arms slung around Spencer’s neck, you cry out weakly as he rocks his hips into you, already brutal and hurried with the pace.
You’ve never felt this undone, so desperate that you’d let yourself get fucked in a bathroom stall. You barely have any alcohol in your system, for you to feel reckless enough to do something like this. Hell, Spencer hadn’t even taken your panties off before he’d started fucking you. The fact that prim and proper Spencer of all people is making you like this makes your head spin.
“Oh, fuck, baby,” you whimper into his shoulder. “So good, Spence, oh–”
“You feel so good,” Spencer groans, hips stuttering as he tells you just that. “You’re so perfect. I love you.”
“I love you so much,” you hiccup, feeling Spencer drill into you, the muffled slap of his thrusts hitting the back of your thighs. You’re so overwhelmed, pleasure zipping through you from the top of your head to the tips of your toes, as Spencer fucks you like you’re the only person in the world that matters right now.
“I’m close,” Spencer gasps, pace growing uneven, hurried, as he chases his pleasure while trying so hard to make you feel good too. “Please, I–”
You cry out as your orgasm hits you, too sudden, too quick. You clench around Spencer as your body shakes, Spencer fucking you through it with desperation. You don’t expect to come so quickly, but you suppose missing Spencer has an effect on you.
You squelch obscenely with your release as Spencer continues to fuck you, needy and hurried, moaning in your ear as he stumbles into his orgasm too, wracking through his body like he has no control over it. You feel his load spill inside of you, hot and messy, his hands trembling as his thrusts slow.
“Oh, fuck,” you say, laughing slightly. “Holy shit, Spencer. We just had sex in a public bathroom, this is crazy.”
“We just had sex in a public bathroom,” Spencer echoes, sounding mildly panicked. “Oh, my God.”
“It was very fucking hot.” You assure him, holding his face in your hands to look him in the eyes, stopping him from overthinking. “But we should probably go home, because I’m a fucking mess between my legs right now.”
“I might need to take a shower,” Spencer says, his voice wavering slightly. “The sink is technically the most germ-ridden surface in a public bathroom, the damp environment makes it a–”
“Spencer, I love you so much, but for your sake and mine, let’s not talk about germs right now.” You shudder at the thought. “I think I need to take a shower after that too.”
“Let me clean you up, and we can go home.” Spencer, despite his germ anxieties, is rather sweet in cleaning you up. Your panties are ruined with fluids, and you’re starting to feel Spencer’s load trickling out of you when you stand back up, but you relish in the fact that you’re going to be back at his apartment soon enough.
(The fact that Spencer hadn’t corrected you when you called his place home, makes your heart sing.)
You clean up your makeup and make your hair look as presentable as it can be, especially after your boyfriend has literally fucked you in a public bathroom, and when you both look presentable enough, you try to slip out of the bathroom casually.
Unfortunately, Derek and Emily are right there, catching you in the act of leaving, obviously noting the way you and Spencer look absolutely dishevelled.
Derek raises his eyebrows, grinning. “Damn, lover boy.”
“Shut up,” Spencer retaliates weakly, his voice slightly shaky.
“We’re heading home first,” you say with all the confidence you can muster, trying very hard not to feel extremely embarrassed in front of Spencer’s very smug friends. You’re still holding Spencer’s hand, and you feel a little less afraid. “It was fun getting to meet you guys.”
Emily shakes her head playfully, smiling. “We’d love to hang out more with you another time. Maybe when Reid isn’t so desperate to get alone with you?”
Spencer makes a displeased noise, but you smile and nod at her. “Definitely.”
Derek and Emily let you slip out of the bar without saying much else, and you hope that the rest of Spencer’s team doesn’t hear about it.
As you and Spencer step out of the bar and into the cool, evening air, you kiss his cheek once more. “I love you. Now, let’s get home so we can shower. And then we can have sex again in the comfort of your bed?”
Spencer grins, any earlier embarrassment seeming to melt away. “That sounds perfect. God, I love you.”
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“Across cultures, darker people suffer most. Why?” Multiethnic and Multicultural Blackness
“Across cultures, darker people suffer most. Why?”- Andre 3000
Tell me what's wrong with this picture.
Hint: This is Miles Morales- from the video game depiction- canonically an Afro-Puerto Rican. Jefferson is Black American; Rio is Puerto Rican.
So why is the Cuban flag on their wall?
This is what happens when no one (with any saying power) in the board room is representative of the group being depicted! And mind you, this was produced under SONY and MARVEL, for the PS5, a product under two brands that combined churn out hundreds of millions in profit! And… No one on any level corrected them until the beta came out and fans saw it. That's how pervasive this sort of ignorance of other cultures can be. How are you writing a story about a character, and you don't even know how he identifies?
Multiethnic & Multicultural Blackness
Realistically, you’ve probably walked past many a biracial, multicultural, or multiethnic Black person before and assumed they were “just Black”. One example: Rae Dawn Chong- known as Mama du Pointe du Lac- is Afro-Chinese, but that Chinese background did not play into the role she played. A more personal example: my recent loctician was also Afro-Chinese, with very dark skin (she made jokes about how her eyes reveal it, but we can’t make those jokes here). I would have never known.
Point is, we reacted to what we saw, and that’s not an accident. Blackness is treated as a monolith, and an indicator of social level whether you realize it or not. You see a ‘Black’ person, and without wondering any further about their identity, you will treat them as you’ve been socialized to treat ‘Black’ people! But every Black person is not the same!
You don't have to write an entire essay with citations mid-story about how you learned so much about the Afro-Chicana or Afro-Iraqi experience for your main character. We didn't ask. But, slipping natural things here and there into the story of a character’s culture helps cement that yes, this character has this multicultural identity and it matters to them; it is who they are, it has an effect on their life and character in some way. It is how you deepen the character and show respect for the culture you are depicting!
I love using Miles as an example, so here’s a good example. In Across The Spiderverse, he goes to a party to celebrate Jefferson’s new position. In that scene, Rio walks through a mix of all his family members. Even when he speaks with his parents in this scene, they managed to incorporate his Afro-Puerto Rican identity without shouting to the rooftops “HEY! HE’S BLACK AND LATINO! SEE HOW I’M TELLING YOU?”
Race vs Ethnicity
The Black experience stretches as far as the African diaspora- worldwide! It's why it's frustrating when people assume "Black people" means "United States" and the West's perception of "Third World Africa" (especially when it comes to existing in media that people have strongly claimed is just White). Latin and Central America? West Europe? East Europe? Southwest Asia and North Africa? The Mediterranean? East Asia? Australia? You will find Black people!! Just because we aren't the majority doesn't mean we aren't there!
But just because we're Black doesn't mean we're all "African-American". Ethnicity is "the quality or fact of belonging to a population group or subgroup made up of people who share a common cultural background or descent." Race is "a categorization of humans based on shared physical or social qualities into groups generally viewed as distinct within a given society."
"But I thought you said Black is an identity!"
It is! Black does not only mean “Black American”. The reason Black Americans identify as just Black (which is why I demand that you show respect by capitalizing it) is due to the loss of our specific heritages from the enslavement meant to scourge us of them, to make us property. To call us by our actual names would be acknowledging our equivalent humanity and culture. In order to enforce slavery without qualm, they had to be violently removed. Black Africans of numerous ethnic groups, now violently forced into this amalgamation, had to come together and forge something new. We had to find a common connection- our Blackness (and that experience as defined by whiteness in this society) was it. It also functions as a reclamation of our identity, of our presence in this world. We are a culture, we are an entire group of people, and we should be acknowledged as such.
Again: all Black people are NOT the same!!! This is like… anti-racism 101, but so many people continue to fall for it, even those ‘well-meaning’. You cannot ask one Black person to represent the ENTIRETY of the world's Black experience. Many other factors will come into play, and this includes their culture.
Keep in mind how being multicultural and/or biracial and Black will put many people at a crossroads that is complex and difficult to traverse. There will always be parts of incomplete acceptance, an extra layer of code-switching based on where you are and who you're with. A Black Kenyan is not a Black American, who is not a Black Greek, who is not a Black Colombian, who is not a Black Filipino. They're different cultures, that will treat each other differently. Society- from strangers to your own family- may try to pull multiethnic Black people one direction or another- are you ‘Black’ enough, are you ‘technically Black’, are you ‘technically’ something else, are you that ethnicity enough?
(I will discuss Black biracial people with whiteness in the next lesson, because I felt like the interracial and biracial White & Black topic needed its own talk, but this is relevant there as well.)
Where- In the world- Is-
Coming back from the opening of this lesson: keep in mind that you need to know specifically WHERE your character is from! For example, just saying they're "Afro-Latino" reveals very little- there's an entire chunk of the planet that falls under the "Latin America" category (as defined by U.S. standards).
A follower of mine- they identify as Caribbean Latine- sent me this in discussion about the topic:
"I wish people actually thought about where their Afro-Latino characters are from. It’s always very vague and it’s so reductive because an Argentinian Afro-Latino is very different from a Puerto Rican Afro-Latino. This is very subjective but I think this issue is pretty blatant in The Owl House. They flash the Dominican flag a couple of times, but when it comes to actually making her Afro-Latino…I don’t think they did a very good job. They barely made her Black in the first place. I don’t want to dog on the voice actors too much because there are a million factors that might have affected this but. When they make a point to have the characters speak Spanish, it’s really noticeable when the accent/dialect doesn’t align with their ethnicity. Dominicans have a really identifiable dialect in Spanish. When the Afro-Latino characters speak in Spanish, it’s the most neutral accent I’ve ever heard. This is such a me-issue, but this is to say that people should actually research where their characters are from instead of vaguely painting them as Afro-Latino. We are all SOOO different. Our dialects vary so much that sometimes an Afro-Mexican and an Afro-Puerto Rican won’t understand each other even though we speak the same language.”
WHO are we talking about? How does that factor into their identity, and the way the world- both in story, and how readers from around the world- will perceive them? Will an Afro-Dominican know that they're supposed to relate to your character if they're vaguely Latino?
Note:
While I was doing my research, I noticed that searching for “Afro-_” doesn’t always offer much, as it does the ubiquitous antiblack experience and roles in politics and resistance. And while I think that’s super cool and mandatory, I think another way to approach this would be to focus on the culture as a whole, and then go from there. So for example, if I wanted my character to be Afro-Mexican- maybe even from a specific location in Mexico, or their family is from that area- it would be easier to look up the cultures and activities of that area itself, and then inform with my knowledge of how Blackness is treated there.
As I am not a member of these groups, I thought it would be better for me to find resources that better explain, than to try to speak for them myself. Hell, just from doing this research, I learned that I have far more to educate myself on. There are so many good resources out there! People speak on these topics that y’all want to know about, and there are so many books and videos- find them and educate yourselves! This is a long section filled with links, so I'm going to put them under a readmore.
I also could not possibly sit here and name every single ethnic combo because that would be endless. So what I'm going to do is give some broad strokes of a few major groupings, that will hopefully start you on the path of how to conduct your own research!
The African Diaspora
This is such a good resource. There are short chapters going into the details and history of Black people in many regions, all around the globe. I’m honestly in love with how this is set up. It's a good starting point!
Black Africans
This one isn't specifically an example of multiethnicity; I just want to emphasize that there are many ethnicities and cultures within Africa itself! One is still multiethnic if they are Black American and Ivorian, for example! As the birthplace of humanity, there are plenty of ethnic groups in Africa with endlessly rich cultures, and all of them will come with different foods, fashions, languages!
Notable Figures: Nelson Mandela, Tobi Lou, Patrice Lumumba, Tems, Wizkid, Kwame Nkrumah, Chinua Achebe, Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie, Wangarĩ Maathai, Agnes Tirop, Chéri Samba, Sheikh Abdullah Ssekimwanyi
Internalized antiblackness in African countries is due to the long and violent history of western imperialism in Africa. “The Carving Up of Africa” by European nations has long worn on the continent, its resources, and its peoples, and that includes remnants of their beliefs. Another pervasive idea in media is that all African peoples are ‘poor’, ‘living in huts’, and ‘starving’. There are people doing that all over the world, it is not inherent to being Black African. But even if that were the case- and it is not, every African does not live that way- it would still be the fault of aforementioned imperialism. Please do your research, and do not EVER write that if someone is African, they ‘must not be used to food’ or ‘have never seen such magnificent things as [what white character offers]’.
Afro Latinos
Notable figures: Celia Cruz, Frantz Fanon, Zoe Saldaña, Colman Domingo, Lupita Nyongo, Gina Torres, Cardi B, MJ Rodriguez
Notable music styles- Reggaeton? Salsa? Rumba? A lot of the best music of the area has roots in Blackness.
Antiblackness in the Afro-Latino community
Colorism plays a huge role in perception, to the point of putting you into classes of people. From the same Caribbean Latine follower:
Also, they have to do research on racial groupings in LATAM. It’s unavoidable. A Latino that’s considered Black in the USA may not be considered Black in LATAM. This is because of Blanqueamiento. That is a LOT to explain, but TLDR: A big difference between racism in the USA and racism in LATAM is that white people aren’t focused on segregation. It’s racism through imposition. “Blanqueamiento” refers to whitening and it’s the belief that you can cleanse the bloodline by having children with white people. The lineage will get increasingly lighter. That is why whenever a child comes out lighter than their parents, people will praise the parents for “bettering the race” (mejorando la raza). So a light skinned Black person in the USA may have another racial classification in LATAM (prieto, moreno, mulato, etc)."
One example is 'pelo malo' (bad hair)- how afro-textures are deemed unwanted, as a holdover from Spanish colonization and ideas of whiteness being equivalent to purity. Another severe example is of the slur "mayate"- apparently, it means "f*ggot black bug". If you're Black, and someone ever calls you this, know that you are being severely insulted. If you are interested in more Afro-Mexican history, Colonial Blackness by Herman Bennett is a book that follows the stories of enslaved Africans and their descendants in 17th century Mexico, questioning the existing history told that often leaves out their presence.
Afro Indigenous
*Indigenous doesn't just mean "to America", though the links are to the Afro-indigenous experience in the U.S.
Notable Figures: Crispus Attucks, Lucy Parsons, George Henry White, Charlie Patton, Jimi Hendrix, Eartha Kitt, Lena Horne, Ausben Jordan
What’s interesting is that it was much harder for me to find solid evidence of people who are Black Natives, mainly because it seems this history was lost and/or never recorded, or due to Blood Quantum and antiblackness, not acknowledged. That is something worth thinking about, if you are writing an Afro-Native character.
Blood quantum: A system developed by the United States federal government to determine how much “Indian blood” an Indigenous person has and if they are qualified for Tribal enrollment. Blood quantum limits accessibility to citizenship and is designed to decrease enrollment numbers. Today, some tribes still use blood quantum as criteria for Tribal enrollment. As part of their sovereign status, every federally recognized Tribe determines its own criteria for membership and enrollment.
Further reading:
Young, Black Native activists say it's time to appreciate Indigenous diversity
Black Indians: A Hidden Heritage
Blood Politics: Race, Culture, and Identity in the Cherokee Nation of Oklahoma By Circe Sturm (2002)
We Refuse to Forget: A True Story of Black Creeks, American Identity, and Power By Caleb Gayle (2023)
Afro-Arab/SWANA
Notable figures: Bilal ibn Rabah, Fatima Bernawi, Layla F. Saad, Samirah Srur Fadel, Ahmed Osman, Sara El Hassan (known as bsonblast), Ali Jiddah, Maryam Abu Khaled
Here's an amazing resource cataloguing the history of Afro-Palestinians, as well as a timeline of the solidarity between Black Americans, Afro-Palestinians, and Palestinians!
I sat here and tried very hard to come up with a way to summarize this, especially given current events in our world, and I found that at this moment, I lack the skill to do it. Not because there’s nothing to say- God knows there’s plenty- but unraveling the intersections that comes with the SWANA experience would take me far longer than a summary. I think Maryam Abu Khaled can speak on her experience far better than I, anyway:
Afro-AAPI
Notable figures: apl.de.ap, Michael Ealy, H.E.R., Karrueche, Rae Dawn Chong, Naomi Campbell, Naomi Osaka, Chanel Iman, Anderson Paak
Interview from famous R&B artist, guitarist, actress for Belle, and Afro-Filipina: H.E.R.
There is a strain between Black and Asian communities, in the United States and beyond, white supremacy playing a major role. But that does not mean that we cannot move forward together, or have not shown one another solidarity.
One of my biggest pet peeves that happens often in fandom spaces is fans who claim that Asians- East Asians in particular, but Asians in general- don't know what Black people are and what we look like. It's racist to every ethnicity and background involved. Yes, there are Black East Asian and Black South Asian people. Yes, these countries have access to the Internet to look up what we look like. There have been plenty of well-drawn Black people by those artists. Just like every white artist isn't going to draw a caricature, every Asian artist isn't going to. It all comes down to practice, their commitment to their craft, and their commitment to not being racist. Being from these areas is not an excuse for not drawing Black people accurately- the same amount of effort they can be put into depicting a white person (that would also be a minority in these places), can be put into depicting us as well. Knock it off.
Conclusion
Antiblackness is unfortunately ubiquitous, yes, but that doesn’t mean the rest of every Black person’s life experience is going to be. We are everywhere on this planet, which means there’s a planet’s worth of experiences to be had. If you decide that you want to create a Black character with a multiethnic or multicultural background, you need to commit to that! Even by mentioning their music, or their food, or- if you’re going to get into it- how others might treat them due to their Afro-identity. Something that lets us as the viewers know that you didn’t just write a white person and then claim they were “Afro-Blank” for clout. If you mean it, do it, because as always, it’s the thought that counts, but the action that delivers!
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Metalhead Next Door
Eddie Munson x Fem!Reader
Notes: hello :) i got the sudden urge to write for eddie munson today for some reason lol
i'm apologizing in advance for how bad it probably is. please keep in mind that i havent written anything in a long time, let alone for eddie
but if you do read it for whatever reason, thank you i love you im giving you a big kiss rn <3
Warnings: neighbors to lovers, jealous!reader, pining, oral sex (f receiving)
Word Count: 1.4K
A loud rumble from a run-down truck rang outside your trailer window, jolting you from sleep. The book you abandoned some hours ago slid off your chest as you sat on the bed to peek outside. Snow continued to fall and hardened on the window sill from earlier that morning, each flake a silent whisper against the palm of your hand as you held it out in the icy air. Metal music blared through the familiar window across from yours, drawing your attention toward the warm glow coming from inside. An overpowering scent of weed lingered between the two trailers—something you'd found comfort in within the last couple of months of living next door to the Munsons. Of course, you'd heard the rumors where Eddie was concerned, and you'd have to be blind not to see how people treated him around here. Everyone ignored him, wrote him off as a freak while telling the tale of the long-haired devil-worshiping drug dealer to anyone who would listen. But after almost a year of living next to Eddie, you realized that couldn't be further from the truth.
The first night, Eddie crept up on your front porch when you weren't looking, making himself comfortable on the wooden staircase, offering whatever joint he was nursing—all leather jacket and wild hair with a grin that could warm you to your core if you let yourself admire him for a little too long. Since then, you'd meet Eddie outside once everyone had gone to bed and let his wild D&D stories carry you through the night. The world around you seemed to soften around Eddie, swallowed up by the relentless comfort of his presence. Even when he was gone, one last tiny blaze of warmth and light continuously flickered in your chest for him.
The night air was crisp, making you cling to your blanket that much tighter as you curled up in bed. You nearly jumped when you heard a thump against your bedroom window, a snowball crumbling as another landed against the window pane.
"You're not gonna make me wait out here until I freeze, are you?" Eddie's voice trickled in from outside, making you smile before quickly opening the window and letting him climb in. "It's fucking freezing out there. Hey, sweetheart." Your heart warmed at the nickname as he brushed past you, flopped down on your mattress, and picked up your abandoned book. His hair looked like he'd run his hand through it far too many times today; the snow still crunched as he crossed one boot over another as scattered icicles clung to his jacket's leather and denim patches.
"Well, it's no D&D book, but-." Eddie teased before you cut him off by snatching the book, placing it on your bedside table, and settling beside him. He smirked, clearly pleased with himself for getting to you so quickly.
"So what's new with you, Munson?" You said as you sank next to him, sneaking glances whenever he wasn't looking.
"Same shit, different day. I learned a new Metallica song last week, gonna play it at our gig."
"Yeah?"
"Yeah, I'll play it for you sometime." You smiled at that. "Oh shit, I was supposed to call Dustin." Eddie dramatically sat up on your bed and sighed.
"Dustin? Was it important?"
"Yeah, sort of; he's been trying to set me up with this girl. Or was it Steve setting me up? All I know is I went out with her last week, and now I gotta be at Family Video tomorrow at 6 to pick out a movie for whatever the fuck a double date movie night is." Your heart sank. Eddie was being set up; he was dating someone. And it wasn't you. Figures. He would never see you as more than a friend; all you ever did was hang out and talk about D&D; he could do that with any of his other friends. This shouldn't surprise you, but that didn't make it sting any less than it did.
"Hey, you okay?" Eddie noticed your silence amidst his rambling. You were seemingly lost in your thoughts as you toyed with your fingers. Something had shifted; your warm presence from just a minute ago felt frigid and distant.
"Yeah." You wiped the tears welling in your eyes and stood from the bed, suddenly needing to put as much distance between you as possible. "Just tired, I'm just gonna go to bed." The mere thought of Eddie snuggling up on a couch with some girl made your chest feel like it would cave in any second. You quickly turned toward your window to open it, unable to face him without fear of bursting into tears.
"Sweetheart, if I did something to piss you off, I'm sorry."
"You didn't just please…I want to go to bed." Your tone was firmer than Eddie had ever heard from you. He should go, head out through the window, and call it a night. But he couldn't. "Please." Your voice slightly cracked, and with it, a piece of Eddie's heart at the realization. When you managed to turn around, his chest was inches from your face, tenderness filling those big, brown, beautiful eyes darting back at you. His ring-clad hand cupped your cheek, skimming over your skin delicately like you would break under his touch.
Before you knew it, your mouth was on his. Your arms around his neck; he tasted like cigarettes and mint from the gum he anxiously chewed before you came in. It was intoxicating. Chills spread across your skin when his hands slid across your waist, pressing you closer to him. It didn't take long for Eddie's need for you to become apparent with feverish hands pushing you back until the desk bumped against your ass; Eddie tapped your thigh to signal you to sit on the hard surface, standing in between your legs and trailing his lips down to your neck and chest. Your hands tangled in his curls, breathing in as much of him as possible before he pulled away slightly.
"Eddie." You paused, studying his face for a moment; face flushed, hair tussled, and lips swollen and pink from your own; he was perfect. "I'm sorry. I should've told you how I felt, I-. Eddie's lips interrupted you with a searing but brief kiss as he spoke against your lips.
"Don't you dare apologize. I've been waiting so fucking long for this." A smile spread across your face, and relief flooded your chest. You tugged on his vest to draw him back to your lips as his hands began to knead your thighs, core clenching at the feeling. Whimpers escaped you from just his lips on your skin. His mouth worked its way along your neck, lifting your shirt and continuing to work his way down until he was kneeling before you.
"Can I?" You nodded as Eddie's ring-clad fingers hooked onto your shorts, pulling them off and discarding them on the floor along with your underwear. He hooked one leg over his shoulder and kissed the delicate skin of your inner thigh. "God, you have no idea how bad I've needed to taste you." Your breath hitched when you felt his tongue begin expertly working along your folds, then back toward your clit. It wasn't long before he slipped a finger inside you, then another. The chill of his rings pressing on your most sensitive spots as he plunged them in and out of you had you arching your back and squeezing your thighs tighter around Eddie. Your chest heaved; every whimper and moan that escaped was like music to his ears. Eddie consumed you like a man starved; it was like the more pleasure he drew from you, the more he wanted. He couldn't get enough. He teased your clit between his lips and began to suck hard. Eddie's movements were relentless. Your eyes screwed shut, and your core tightened until it snapped. Eddie's hand dug into the flesh of your hips to hold you in place as you squirmed against him until you were practically pushing him away. He could see the blissed look on your face as he stood and wrapped your legs around his waist, carrying you over to bed. Once you were settled, Eddie stepped toward the still-open window.
"Don't go," you whispered; a pang of fear hit you. Eddie smirked to himself before shutting the window securely, throwing his jacket on your nightstand, and crawling in beside you.
"Don't worry, sweetheart." He placed a kiss on your forehead. "I'm not going anywhere."
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