reblogs

hi, I stand with 🇵🇸 I'm 23

[mitzoa]

CAN SOMEONE PLEASE WRITE A LOVE ISLAND FIC WITH ATEEZ PLZ PLZ PLZ 🙏 😫😫😫😫😫😫

[mitzoa]

Ya'll the Tumblr gods have answered 🙏🙏 I found the first Love Island fic with Ateez (hopefully more come soon 🤞🤞🤞🤞)

@ateezlibrary "ive got a text " //www.tumblr.com/ateezlibrary/788346082092580864/ive-got-a-text-ot8-on-love-island?source=share

[pinkslipxox]

A Proposal To Remember:

Summary: Miko asks you to marry her after lovemaking 🥰❤️

Warnings: slight mentions of smut, mostly fluff 💋

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You lay against the cool sheets of your bedroom, the soft glow of the Puerto Rican moon filtering through the window, casting delicate shadows on the walls. The sultry air is thick with heat and romance, the sound of distant waves crashing against the shore mingling with your breathless gasps.

Miko, your fierce and captivating girlfriend, lies beside you, her dark hair sticking to her forehead as you both catch your breath. Her unapologetic energy. You can feel her warmth radiating against your skin, a comforting contrast to the heat that envelops the night.

“Mmm, pequeña,” she murmurs, her voice low and teasing as she curls her tattooed arm around your waist, pulling you closer. The way she says your name makes your heart race, a rush of affection flooding your senses. You turn your head slightly, meeting the intensity of her gaze, those dark eyes filled with mischief and love.

Without breaking your gaze, Miko leans in, her lips trailing down your neck to your collarbone, leaving a warm tingling sensation in their wake. A soft moan escapes your lips, the sound barely more than a whisper in the night. In this moment, you feel cherished, vulnerable yet perfectly safe in her arms.

“¿Te quieres casar conmigo, Y/N?” she asks, her voice husky, laced with a desire that sends shivers down your spine. The Spanish slips off her tongue effortlessly, as natural as the rhythm in her music. You can hardly believe what you just heard, your heart pounding in excitement.

“Wait, what?” you say softly, wanting to make sure that you heard her correctly, and Miko chuckles.

“Will you marry me, Y/N?” Miko asks again, this time her voice softer, in a more serious tone. She looks deeply in your eyes, and it’s at that moment that she isn’t joking. Miko then continues, “I want moments like this with you por el resto de mi vida. Quiero despertar cada mañana contigo en mis brazos, besarte cada vez antes que ir al estudio, y volver a casa contigo cada noche.”

“Yes, Miko!” you breathe out, the words tumbling from your lips without hesitation. You feel her smile against your skin, warm and intoxicating.

She attaches her lips to yours with a fierce passion, a raw blend of tenderness and urgency. Your bodies are slick with sweat, every breath mingling as you surrender to this beautiful moment. Miko cradles you in her muscular arms, holding you like you are the most precious thing in the world.

“Eres todo para mí,” she whispers between kisses, her hands exploring your skin with a soft reverence that makes your heart swell. Her touch is both gentle and possessive, as if she’s claiming every piece of you for herself.

Wrapped in her embrace, you feel powerful yet fragile, a perfect balance to her wild spirit. You reach up to caress her cheek, feeling the warmth of her skin beneath your fingers, and you can’t help but smile.

“You’re everything to me, Miko. Mi amor,” you reply, your voice filled with sincerity.

The two of you lose yourselves in each other's eyes, the world outside fading away until it’s just you and Miko in this intimate sanctuary. She kisses you again, slow and sweet, the promise of love lingering in the air. You are breathless and fulfilled, existing in a moment that feels timeless.

Beneath the Puerto Rican stars, you know you’ve found your forever, and it’s nestled perfectly in the arms of your now fiancée

[pinkslipxox]

Hi love

Can I request reader being friends with Jovaan and being in the 6B video where she meets Miko and they hit it off and are basically attached at the hip the whole time, then after a break everyone is looking for them and they're hooking up in her trailer

hey, baby!! Yes ofc, hope you like it 🙈❤️😩

——————————————————————————

You can feel the vibrant energy of Puerto Rico buzzing around you as you step onto the colorful set of the 6B music video. The sun is blazing overhead, casting a warm glow on everything, and your heart is racing with excitement. Jovaan has been your friend for years, and he has been making a name for himself in the music industry, something that you’re immensely proud of as his friend. Today, he’s invited you to hang out while shooting a music video for the fierce and unapologetic rapper, Young Miko.

Jovaan wraps his arms around you, his charisma and charm shining through. He’s incredibly excited as he talks about how today’s shooting will turn out, his energy palpable. Then, just out of the corner of your eye, you see a woman standing nearby.

You catch her eye for a brief moment, and there’s a flicker of intrigue in her gaze. You feel a slight flutter in your stomach as Jovaan nudges you, encouraging you to approach her, and before you do so, she strides over to you with a big smile on her face. Her dark hair cascades over her shoulders, her lean body clad in printed trousers and a white crop top, and dark ink tattoos snake around her arms. You can’t help but feel butterflies as you realize that the woman before you is Young Miko.

“Hola, mami! Qué tal?” Miko says with a playful lift in her voice.

“This is my friend, Y/N,” Jovaan introduces you, smiling ear to ear. He then gestures from you and Miko. “Y/N, this is Miko.”

Miko smiles, and you can’t help but notice how she looks at you up and down for a brief second. “Un placer, Y/N. We’re going to have a fucking blast!” she says, her voice smooth and inviting.

“I can’t wait!” you giggle, and you can’t help the feel a pang of warmth in your chest.

Throughout the week, you and Miko get to know each other. During breaks, the two of you would laugh and talk as if you had known each other for years. Even after shooting, Miko invites you to go out with her crew, and eacb of you have grown to develop a liking with each of them. But with Miko, it feels incredibly different. Miko is fierce on her verses, embodying the essence of the bold and confident persona she is, but with you, she softens, her playful side shining through. You discover that she’s not just about the tough exterior; there’s a sweetness beneath all that ink and bravado.

On the last day of shooting, you can’t help but sense a shift in the air. You catch yourself gazing at Miko longer than usual during filming, and at one point you look away just before Miko catches you. Each glance and cheeky smile exchanged between the two of you leaves your stomach fluttering like a butterfly’s wings, and you find yourself wanting more.

“Hey, pequeña,” Miko calls out, her voice cutting through the noise as she approaches you during a break. There’s a mischievous glint in her eyes, setting your heart racing. “Come hang out with me. Meet me in my trailer in five?”

Her invitation echoes in your ears, and a newfound wave of anticipation and excitement courses through you. You can’t help but smile, your eyes meeting her blue ones. Before you know it, you find yourself stepping inside Miko’s trailer, a sanctuary from the outside world. The inside of her trailer is cozy, filled with personal touches and vibrancy that matches her vibe. There is even a delightful scent of vanilla and musk in the air, unique, and so undeniably Miko.

“Wow, it’s really nice in here,” you say softly, feeling a flutter in your chest as she gestures for you to sit. She follows suit, leaving only a breath of space between you. The tension in the air is palpable, a mix of heat and unspoken words. Miko’s gaze is intense, her eyes searching yours, and suddenly it feels like it’s just the two of you in the world.

“Gracias, mami,” Miko hums, and after a moment she reaches into her pocket, retrieving her vape pen. She holds it out to you, her eyes full of mischief. “Quieres un poco?”

You feel your cheeks flush as you take it from her. As you take a small hit, the sweet smoke fills your lungs. Miko watches you intently, leaning a little closer, and you can’t help but feel the heat between you. Your breaths become a little deeper, a little quicker, and for a moment, the world outside fades away. You can sense the tension building, the air thick with unspoken words.

“Eres tan adorable, pequeña,” Miko whispers, her voice low and smoky, making your heart flutter.

And that’s it for you.

Surprising both Miko and yourself, you grab the back of her neck and pour all your desire and adoration against her warm, soft lips. A moan escapes Miko’s lips, the sound like music to your ears, and the kiss becomes more passionate as it transmits the unspoken emotions that have been pent up inside you both. Your hands tangle in her hair, and she pulls you closer, her body warm and inviting against yours. As your hands explore each other's curves, clothes become discarded and long forgotten, your bodies molding perfectly like two kissing puzzle pieces. Miko gently guides you to lay down on the couch, her lips traveling down your neck, then your collarbone, and finally to the gentle swell of your breasts.

“Miko…” you half-moan, half-whimper as she sucks on the soft skin, your body instinctively arching against hers. She’s gentle yet fervent, each touch leaving sparks of electricity and wanting for more. Her name comes out in breathy sighs as she leaves love bites that make you hers.

Then, with a fluid motion that takes your breath away, Miko sinks lower, her warm breath teasing against your skin. The anticipation sends jolts of electricity coursing through your body. She drapes your leg over her shoulder, planting soft yet teasing kisses along your thigh, and just like that, Miko begins to lavish her attention on your aching pussy, her tongue gliding deliciously over your pulsating clit. You gasp, fingers tangling in her hair, a symphony of soft moans escaping your lips, and you gently urge her further into your core.

Miko looks up at you, her eyes filled with mischief and adoration as she continues her ministrations, her deliciously warm touch creating ripples of pleasure that reverberate through your very core. Every lick, every flicker of Miko’s tongue makes you squirm and beg for more, the outside world becoming nothing but a distant memory.

“More… please, more!” you beg, the sensations overcoming your senses. You feel your legs start to shake, your vision blurring, and the blissful pressure in your tummy starting to unravel.

Miko responds to your cries, her ministrations intensifying, pushing you over the edge of pure ecstasy. You feel her smirk against your skin as your fingers tangle in her hair, urging her on, and she groans against your core. You surrender completely to the waves of pleasure that leave you shaking and breathless beneath her, your moans and gasps echoing inside the trailer.

As the waves begin to subside, Miko crawls her way back up besides you, pride evident in her beautiful features. She cradles your face between her tattooed hands, whispering sweet nothings in Spanglish, her lips gently brushing over yours as if sealing her words. You melt against her, feeling safe and cherished.

“Eres increíble, pequeña,” Miko murmurs, her forehead gently resting against yours as a soft smile lights up her features. She pulls you closer to her, kissing your lips once more, her thumb brushing delicately over the curve of your cheekbone. “How about we go out to dinner tonight? I like you… a lot, actually.”

Your heart flutters. “I’d love to, Miko,” you breathe, feeling like the luckiest girl alive. Then, suddenly, the desire to pleasure Miko just as she has done for you makes you untangle yourself from her grasp and sink down to your knees.

“Ay, mami…” Miko’s breath hitches as she watches you, her eyes darkening with need.

“Let me take care of you, baby girl,” you purr, gently kissing Miko’s inner thighs, reveling in the soft gasps that escape your lover’s lips.

You lose yourselves in the heat of the moment, and all you can hear is the sound of Miko’s moans and pleas for more. When the door clicks, and Jovaan’s voice calls out for you both, you ignore it, entangled in your own world. As you pull back, breathless and grinning, you know this week is just the beginning of something beautiful.

[pinkslipxox]

omg i need a part 2 to your latest miko’s angst pleaseeee

you got it, baby 🫶🙈❤️ part one found here

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It’s been two weeks.

Two weeks filled with raw, unfiltered emotions that almost feel too heavy to bear. Since that day, you haven’t heard from Miko, and you convince yourself that it’s a good thing—for both of you. Despite this, not a day has gone by without thoughts of her, nor the sensation of phantom tattooed arms resting around your waist.

A part of you feels ridiculous for mourning the loss of someone that wasn’t even your partner to begin with. Yet you can’t help but feel as if you’ve lost the love of your life. In those six months that you’ve known Miko, she’s made you feel things that you didn’t think were possible. She made you see life differently, how life could be by her side.

You knew she was the one when she held your hand and looked into your eyes as you shared your hopes, your dreams, and fears as you laid by her side in a hotel room in the heart of a sprawling city after one of her concerts. The hustle and bustle of the city faded away, leaving you and Miko in your own world of peace and intimacy. You fell asleep in her arms, and woke up the next day in the same position. The way she held you was as if you were the most precious jewel in the world, guarding you with her life.

Fresh tears begin to swell up in your eyes, yet you refuse to let them fall. You’re tired of crying— it’s all you’ve ever done up until now. After taking a deep breathe, you force yourself out of bed and make your way to the kitchen. You fill a mug with water and put it in the microwave. Soon, the calming scent of honey and chamomile fills the air, and you make yourself comfortable on the couch with a freshly baked cookie. The warmth of the cookie melts in your mouth, the chocolate chips still gooey and rich. It’s a simple pleasure, one that contrasts sharply with the heaviness that clings to you like a fog. You close your eyes for a moment, trying to let the incessant thoughts of Miko drift away with the sweet aroma.

Then a knock sounds at the door.

Confused, you get up from couch and make your way over to the entrance. Who could it be? You don’t remember making any plans with anyone. At least, you think so.

You open the door and you gasp.

“Miko…” you breathe, eyes wide in shock, heart skipping a beat as you take in the sight of her.

Miko, with her signature style – baggy jeans and a fitted top that accentuates her toned body – stands at the doorway, her eyes glossy with tears and biting softly at her lower lip. In her arms is a bouquet of gardenias, their sweet scent cutting through the tension that surrounds you both.

“Y/N, pequeña,” Miko says softly, the Spanglish term of endearment making your heart twist. Her usual confidence is now replaced by a vulnerability you’ve never seen before.

“What are you doing here?” you keep your voice steady, and she steps closer, the world around you slowly fading away.

“Por favor, I need to talk to you. I... I fucked up. I was stupid. And… And…” Miko’s voice trails off. You’ve never thought you’d see Young Miko— the fierce, confident rapper— at a lost of words. You look into her eyes, searching for the truth, and all you find is sincerity and vulnerability.

“Would you like to come in?” you offer, and Miko visibly becomes more relaxed, a relieved smile spreading on her lips.

“Sí. Gracias,” she says and you step aside to let her inside. Presenting the flowers with a small flourish, Miko adds, “These are for you, Y/N. I know they’re your favoritas.”

She’s right. Gardenias has always been your favorite flowers. You mentioned that to her when you two were just getting to know each other.

“Thank you. They’re beautiful,” you murmur, inhaling the flowers.

Miko chuckles softly. “Not as beautiful as you, mami.”

“Miko…” you begin, and Miko gently shakes her head, lightly placing one of her tattooed hands on your shoulder. The simple gesture sends a gentle warmth to course through you. God, you missed her touch.

“Por favor, let me speak,” Miko insists, voice low and sincere. “I messed up. I’m sorry. That girl... she means nothing to me. No one has ever made me feel like the way you do. I can’t pretend like I don’t care about you. Tú eres la mujer que realmente quiero… la única.”

Miko’s words echo in your ears. Each heartbeat echoes the desire to forgive, to return to the safety of her embrace, but trust is fragile. A lump forms in your throat. To say that you’re conflicted is an understatement.

“You can’t just take it back, Miko,” you finally say, a tremor in your voice as you fight back tears. “You hurt me.”

“I know, and I'll show you how much I care,” she whispers, her sincerity washing over the hurt like a balm. “Te lo prometo. I’ll always be here, ready to hold you, to protect you. I’m sorry, I messed up. You’re my everything. Always have been.”

You let out a shaky breath. “I need to know that you mean it.”

“I do mean it. Por favor, Y/N… give me another chance,” she implores, her tone firm yet soft.

In that moment, a part of you softens, reminded of the connection you share—the unwavering affection that recovers after every storm. You think of her cradling you, holding you close, the way she always seems to know how to mend your heart.

After a few moments, you nod, allowing a small smile to break through your walls as tears of relief fill your eyes. “Okay. But you have to promise to be honest with me.”

“Siempre,” Miko replies, her lips curving into that familiar smirk that makes your heart flutter. “Now, can I officially call you my girlfriend?”

“I thought you’d never ask,” you giggle, and allow yourself to melt against her. Miko pulls you closer, planting gentle kisses against your forehead, your cheeks, your nose, until you’re giggling, the tension released between you.

“Eres mi todo, Y/N. Now and forever,” your new girlfriend coos, pulling back slightly, her hands delicately cradling your face.

“And you’re mine, María Victoria,” you say, your heart finally at ease.

In that moment, she leans in, capturing your lips with hers in a soft and gentle kiss, one that sends butterflies racing through your stomach. It’s sweet and electrifying all at once, and as you pull away, she envelops you in her sturdy embrace, wrapping you in warmth and safety.

“I love you, pequeña,” she whispers as she cradles you in her muscular arms, peppering soft kisses across your forehead.

You giggle, feeling cherished and adored. “I love you too, Miko.”

“Créame, I love you more,” she declares softly, guiding you back into her arms, both of you knowing this time, it’s for real.

[pinkslipxox]

heyyy can you do a miko angst where reader and miko are talking or almost dating, and then miko posts with another girl? make reader stand on business too pls

hey, mami! Hope you enjoy this little snippet 🫶❤️ part two found here

——————————————————————————

Your heart drops.

Tears begin to swell in your eyes as you scroll through social media. You refresh the page, hoping that it’s just a joke or fan edit. For a moment, you’re in denial, refusing to believe that what you’re seeing is real. Yet you recognize those tattooed arms anywhere; the very ones who held you close just three days ago, are now wrapped around another woman.

It started about a six months ago when Miko slid into your DMs on Instagram. At first, you were suspicious, but her charisma and charm quickly won you over. She even flew out to see you during a brief break during her tour. Now, she’s never asked you to officially be her girlfriend, but the way she treated you made you feel as if you were. You saw the woman behind the confident, fierce rapper that she’s known for, and in turn,

“What the hell…” you breathe, your sadness turning into confusion, then anger.

So many questions flood your head. You need answers. And you need them now. With a newfound determination, you call Miko. After what it feels like an eternity later, she picks up.

“Dímelo, baby, wassup?” Miko answers. Her warm voice your ears and you can hear the familiar playful tilt in it. It usually makes your heart flutter, but right now, it’s the last thing you want to hear.

“Who is she?” you demand, tone clipped yet dangerously calm amidst the storm brewing inside you.

“Coño, ma’, what are you talking about?” Miko replies after a beat of silence.

You huff. “Don’t act like you don’t know, María Victoria! Who’s that girl in the picture?”

There’s an icy calmness in her response that cuts deeper than you’d expected. “No, it’s just for fun, babe. You know me, siempre haciendo lo mío.”

But the defensiveness causes your heart to sink even further. And your blood boil.

“I’m not okay with this, Miko. If you don’t take me seriously, then maybe we should break it off!” you snap,

The silence is deafening. Finally, she speaks, her tone softer but resolute. “You don’t mean that.”

“Yes, I do,” you insist, urging yourself to remain strong. Despite yourself, hot tears begin to roll down your cheeks. There is a knot in your through and your chest feels tight.

“Por favor,” Miko pleads, her voice suddenly softer, vulnerable. “No, no me dejes, pequeña. I’m not—”

“No! We’re done, María Victoria,” The words feel heavy as they leave your lips, each one a weight you didn’t want to carry.

You hang up, your heart aching, and the tears you've been holding back fall freely. All you want is to forget. Forgiving feels nearly impossible. As you succumb to your tears, all you can do is pray for the strength to overcome this.

Somehow.

[pinkslipxox]

Gah, but imagine…

Stepping into the apartment to smell the aroma of sizzling garlic and spices filling the air, a table set for two with a vase of gardenias in the center along with your favorite scented candles. You smile to yourself, heart fluttering with excitement and anticipation for what’s to come. The weariness of the day seems to lift off your shoulders, replaced by a warm sense of belonging and the comforting knowledge that you are loved and cherished.

Vicky, your girlfriend, with her short, slightly tousled hair and shimmering blue eyes, strides over to you. She is clad in a fitted black crop top and trousers that hang low against her hips. Her lips spread into a warm smile, her tattooed arms wrapping around you in a protective embrace. You take in her warmth, her scent, and it feels like home. Because she is home.

“Bienvenida, mami,” Miko murmurs, her voice low and husky, making a shiver go down your spine. She pulls away slightly, just enough to look into your eyes. “Te extrañé mucho.”

“I missed you, too, baby,” you reply, your smiling mirroring hers. You wrap your arms around her neck as she rests her hands on your hips, pulling you closer.

Vicky steals a quick kiss from your lips. “I hope you’re hungry. For food, of course,” she says with a smirk, and you giggle.

“I always am,” you say, and brush your lips against hers.

You offer to help serve but Vicky insists that you sit down and relax. She returns from the kitchen with two plates full of mouth-watering delicacies from her beloved Puerto Rico— arroz con gandules, tostones, and pernil. Her movements are slow and graceful as she sets the plates down, then opening a bottle of red wine. She serves you a glass before pouring some of the red liquid into her own.

“To us, pequeña,” Miko says as she raises her glass, and you do the same.

“To us,” you echo and you clink your glasses together, the sound echoing softly in the warm apartment.

Taking a sip of the rich wine, you savor the moment, the delicious food before you, and the loving gaze of the woman you adore. The evening unfolds with laughter, easy conversation, and shared bites of the flavorful meal, the scent of gardenias and candles mingling with the aroma of the food, creating a perfect symphony of sensory delights.

You couldn’t ask for a better girlfriend.

[pinkslipxox]

Omg i NEEEEEEEEED miko using a vibrator on reader 😫🙏

Hehe here you go, princesa ❤️🥰 something short but sweet

——————————————————————————

You're lying in the comfortable bed, the soft moon light streaming through the window, casting a silvery glow over the room. The air is filled with the faint, sweet scent of Miko's pen, a familiar and comforting aroma. You hear the soft hum of the pen as Miko takes a drag, her eyes locked onto yours, a smirk playing on her lips. She's a vision of contrast, her muscular, tattooed body clad in loose, baggy clothes, a stark difference to your more feminine and shy demeanor.

"Mírame, pequeña," Miko whispers, her voice a low, husky growl as she exhales a cloud of vapor. You feel a shiver run down your spine, your body responding to her command. You do as she says, your eyes meeting hers, and you see the fire burning in her gaze. She doesn't give a fuck about anything but you in this moment, and that knowledge sends a thrill through you.

Miko sets her pen aside and reaches for the vibrator on the nightstand, her movements slow and deliberate. She leans over you, her body pressing against yours, and you can feel her heart beating steadily in her chest. She cradles you in her arms, her touch surprisingly gentle despite her tough exterior. You melt into her, your body molding to hers as she starts to tease you with the vibrator, her movements slow and deliberate.

"Miko," you gasp, your voice barely a whisper. You feel her smile against your skin, her breath hot on your neck.

"Shh, pequeña," she murmurs. "Let me take care of you." And she does. She teases you, her movements slow and deliberate, building you up only to pull back, leaving you begging for more. You're vocal, your pleasures and desires spilling from your lips, and Miko laps them up, her eyes never leaving yours.

"You like that, pequeña?" she asks, her voice a low growl as she increases the speed of the vibrator, your body arching off the bed as you cry out. "You want more?"

"Please, Miko," you beg, your voice hoarse with need. "Don't stop."

She doesn't. She continues to tease you, her touch gentle yet firm, her words a mix of English and Spanish, a soothing Spanglish lullaby that only she can sing. You're wrapped in her arms, your body safe and cherished, even as she pushes you to the edge of pleasure.

[xoluvx]

Prompt #21 with young miko pls🙏🏾🙏🏾🙏🏾

y.miko no.1

your nails dragged down her tan back. her sun kissed face radiated in the dim light as the waves crashed timidly on the shore. she was grunting in your ear with each thrust and scratch down her back. you were biting on her shoulder, pressing your tongue on her salty skin.

"fu-fuck-" you struggled to breathe let alone speak. each thrust just felt deeper as your pussy swallowed her dildo. the new one she'd made no mention of until you were unpacking earlier that day.

'what is that?' you asked with a playful tone in your voice. you noticed the thing in her hand almost instantly as you walked out of the bathroom, face freshly washed and ready to conquer the first day of your vacation. your eyes trailed to the suitcase resting at the corner of the bed. lace and frills and her strap resting at the very top. you hummed raising your brow. 'is that new?' you teased placing your hands on your hips.

'ha-" she tried laughing it off, placing the dildo back in the luggage before closing it. the red lace caught in the zipper as you walked over holding her hand and touching her burning cheek. you came close to her ear, you could hear her swallowing. 'is the lace for me?' you whispered burrowing your hand in her hair eliciting a quiet moan.

'both of us,' she replied clearing her throat and holding your hips.

'oh yeah?' she could hear the playfulness in your voice. it was very much laced, no pun intended, with anticipation. she breathed heavily when you muttered something against her ear. lips touching her skin before trailing down her neck.

'i don’t care what you call me,' she swallowed again feeling the tightness build. her body consumed with tingles every time your lips opened and closed around her neck.

'can i call you mommy?' you muttered tugging on her hair, pulling her head back to see her parted lips and flushed face. the smirk on your face was diabolical. she was going to make you pay for this later.

"fu-fuck-" you groaned clawing her back. she was hitting your cervix. you were so close to your orgasm and she knew it. she didn't care. she was still moving rapidly. showing no mercy.

"mommy," you whined biting her shoulder a little harder than all the other times. you were drooling on her as you felt her hit your sweet spot over and over. your legs were quivering. thighs clenched around her waist. fingers helplessly clinging to her back. this vacation was panning out to be more than you'd bargained for; the itinerary discarded and replaced by much sweeter activities.

prompt list

[pinkslipxox]

Do Not Disturb

Summary: a little FaceTime with Miko and Billie 🥰❤️🙈

Warnings: smut 🤭

——————————————————————————

It was your girlfriend’s idea.

To call her and join.

“Oh, my God… f-fuck,” you half-whimper, half-moan, breasts heaving, toes curling as you continue to pleasure yourself. You toss your head back as you increase the pace of your fingers, hips rocking instinctively to the waves of euphoria that further ignites the fire inside you.

Billie moans on the other end, a low, rumbling sound that is like music to your ears. You can imagine her back arching off the bed, strap nestled deep inside her, pumping in and out of her core. Her hair sticking to her damp forehead, eyelids fluttered closed, pink lips parted ever so slightly.

“God… Y/N…” she pants, breathless, chanting your name like a prayer.

Another voice fills your ears.

Miko’s.

“Madre mía,” the rapper groans, her Spanglish effortlessly rolling off her tongue. “Carajo, I’m close…” Her voice is low, warm and hoarse with need, a sweet melody that only she can sing.

You can hear the hum of the vibrator in the background admist the moans and gasps of the two women, and your own. The phone is propped up against the lamp, Miko and Billie visible on the screen, warm sunlight shines over one, and dim lights casts looming shadows over the other. Legs spread. Their heads tossed back. Bodies glistening with sweat.

It was a spontaneous if not daring idea, but all anticipation has been replaced with the overwhelming desire to cum.

You become bolder, your touches more insistent as you pleasure yourself, your moans filling the room. Your free hand roams your body, gently pinching and pulling your rosy nipples, then traveling down to the dips of your curves, imagining that it’s your lover’s hands grazing over your skin. Even if she’s miles away from you, you feel her so close to you. So. Fucking. Close.

“I-I can’t! Baby, please!” you whimper, the pressure in your tummy growing tighter, legs twitching as another ripple of pleasure rolls over your being.

“Together,” Miko growls, voice heavy with longing.

“Cum,” Billie commands, and with a shrill cry, you come undone, your body convulsing as you release.

The two women join in, their vocalizations mixing with yours in a symphony of desire. Your moans turn into soft whimpers as you slowly come down from your blissful state. Silence looms over the three of you until Miko speaks up.

“Coño… that was amazing,” she hums, a smirk tugging at her lips as she adjusts the phone so that it is closer to her. She takes a hit from her pen, the smoke dancing languidly in the air.

Billie groans in approval. “I’ll say. What do you think, Y/N?”

“It was…” You can’t bring yourself to finish the sentence. The passion and intensity has left you without words. You hear Miko and Billie chuckle.

“Poor baby,” Miko coos, “she’s so fucked out of her mind.”

“I’d be worried if she wasn’t,” Billie replies, and you hear the pride in her voice.

“It was amazing,” you finally say, a lazy smile spreading on your lips. “We should do this again.”

Miko nods in agreement, her eyes shimmering with mischief. “Obvio que sí, puñeta.”

“Hell yeah,” Billie chimes in, smirking.

And you can’t wait.

[pinkslipxox]

Mama Miko Headcannon

• Miko is the cool mom, no doubt, but she’s incredibly nurturing and fiercely protective of her kids

• Of course she has her kids’ names or one of their drawings tattooed in their honor

• Making sure that her children grows up proud of their Puerto Rican heritage

• Dance parties in the living room, twirling her little ones in the air, singing along to the lyrics without a care in the world

• Miko always keeps pictures of her, you, and the kids with her wherever she goes

• She always comes home from the studio looking for her babies, cradling them in her arms and showering them in kisses

• When touring, Miko brings her kids whenever possible— matching headphones and everything. When she can’t, they video chat every night and they always end with Miko telling them that she loves them with all her heart

• She’s always making them laugh, making them feel seen and heard, and she celebrates all victories— big and small

• Miko is deeply involved with her children’s lives despite being an artist; from spontaneous adventures to deep, late night talks, Miko drops everything to be with her kid

• You mess with Young Miko’s kids, you mess with Young Miko

[pinkslipxox]

Ice Cream and Besitos:

Summary: you visit Miko at work, based on her recent video 🥰🍦🫶

Warnings: fluffy goodness 💋

——————————————————————————

The Puerto Rican sun kisses your skin as you stroll down the streets of San Juan, the air carrying the scent of hibiscus and salt mingling with laughter and the pulsating beats of reggaetón playing from speakers. Your destination is just at the end of the block, an ice cream shop where it’s brights doors and hanging plants invite locals and tourists alike for a sweet treat. The shop’s cool air wraps around you like a gentle embrace as you step inside, offering immediate relief from the heat.

The walls are adorned with hand-painted murals of the beach, tropical fruits, and dancing figures. Behind the counter, the ice cream is displayed like a work of art— rich, dark chocolate, tangy mango, tart passion fruit sorbet— and you can almost taste the sweetness before it even touches your tongue. You love going to this shop. And not just for the ice cream.

For someone.

“Y/N!” an all too familiar voice exclaims that makes your heart skip a beat.

You turn your head to see your girlfriend, Vicky, striding over to you, her lips spread into a dazzling smile and arms open wide. Her long, dark brown hair is pulled back, and she is clad in her uniform consisting of a white long-sleeved shirt and a bright blue apron over it with her name sewn right above her chest. She wraps you in a warm, tight embrace, the scent of her perfume comforting and familiar. Your girlfriend pulls away her so slightly, enough for her bright blue eyes to gaze into your own, her hand gently caressing your cheek.

“I’ve missed you,” you murmur softly as you brush your lips against hers. “Has it been busy today?”

Vicky chuckles. “No tanto. Pero estoy muy feliz que estás aquí, mi vida.” She then steals another sweet kiss, her lips warm and soft against yours.

“Oh, I didn’t come to see you,” you tease, biting back the smile that threatens to curl. “I just wanted a scoop of ice cream.”

“Y/N!” Vicky gasps dramatically, her hand flying to her heart, feigning offense. “Dios mío, whats a scoop of ice cream got compared to me, huh?”

“Everything!” you giggle, and Vicky rolls her eyes playfully, her arms still loosely wrapped around you.

“Eres imposible, pequeña,” she says, the fondness in her tone clear. "But I think you’re forgetting something important." She pauses dramatically, looking up at you with a mischievous glint in her eye.

"What?" you ask, raising an eyebrow.

"Who serves the ice cream?" Vicky asks, her smile widening as she nudges you gently.

"Point taken," you laugh, giving her a playful kiss on the cheek. “I guess you are better than ice cream.”

“Damn right.” Vicky winks at you. “You want your usual, mi amor? Con una galletita?” Her voice drops slightly, the intimate moment hanging between you two.

“Yes, please,” you say sweetly.

From your seat at the little table by the window, you watch Vicky get to work, her movements sure and graceful. Before long, she’s back at your side, two cups of ice cream in hand, her smile never fading.

"One scoop of mango and one of dark chocolate, just like you like," she says, placing the cups down on the table in front of you.

“You’re the best, Vicky,” you coo, then, with a playful grin, you take a spoonful of the mango ice cream. The sweet, tangy flavor hits your tongue, the cold and creamy texture perfect against the warmth of the day.

“Anything for one of my favorite customers,” your girlfriend hums with a mischievous gleam in her eye.

You raise an eyebrow, playfully. “One of your favorite customers?”

Vicky laughs, leaning across the table to steal a bite of the dark chocolate. “Correction— you’re my favorite customer. And I love you very much.”

“I love you, too, María Victoria,” you say softly, her name rolling off your tongue like a melody. The sound of it fills the space between you two, grounding the moment in its quiet intimacy.

It’s in these moments where you truly feel at peace. As you both fall into a comfortable silence, you realize that this is where the real magic lies. Right here, with your girlfriend, in the heart of San Juan, and of course, the best ice cream in all of Puerto Rico.

[pinkslipxox]

Amor de Mami:

Summary: a sweet moment with Mama Miko and her baby girl 💞

Warnings: none, only fluff ✨🥰

——————————————————————————

In the vibrant heart of Puerto Rico, where the sun kissed the ocean and the rhythm of reggaeton filled the air, there lived a fierce and unapologetic rapper named Young Miko. With her signature style—baggy clothes, long brown hair, and an attitude that screamed confidence—she was beloved by fans for her fierce lyrics and unapologetic spirit. Yet, beneath her tough exterior lay a heart full of love, especially for her sweet wife, Y/N.

Y/N was Miko’s opposite in every, radiating a soft, nurturing charm that drew everyone in. While Miko commanded attention on the streets and stages, Y/N thrived in the comforting spaces of their home, nurturing their six-month-old daughter, Camila. Their contrasting personalities melded beautifully; Miko was the fire, and Y/N was the gentle breeze—together, they created an unbreakable bond.

That day, Miko sat in the recording studio, the bass thumping, the beat pulsating through her veins. She took a quick hit from her pen, blowing out a plume of sweet-smelling smoke, her mind swirling with creativity. Just as she was deep into her flow, her phone buzzed on the table. She glanced at the screen, smiling broadly when she saw Y/N’s name.

“¡Hola, mi amor!” Miko answered, but instead of hearing Y/N’s voice, the soft coos of Camila filled her ears.

“Hola, amor de mami,” Miko responded, her voice instantly softening as she settled back in her chair. “¿Qué haces, mi chiquitita?” She leaned back, lost in the sweetness of her daughter's babbling, her heart swelling with affection.

“Miko, I’m so sorry for interrupting!” Y/N’s voice chimed through the speaker, her tone a mixture of apologies and warmth. “She grabbed my phone, and I—”

“Cálmate, pequeña,” Miko interjected, a teasing undertone. “No puedes interrumpir a la mami, especially cuando nuestra nenita está hablando con ella.”

Miko interacted with Camila as if they were deep in conversation, adlibbing the baby's babbling with playful banter. Her voice was that perfect blend of playfulness and tenderness, revealing the side of her that only Y/N and their daughter ever saw.

Meanwhile, Y/N listened, her heart melting as she heard Miko speak to their daughter, her wife’s vibrant love coming through every playful word. Miko, a strong, confident woman in the industry, transformed effortlessly into a doting mother, and Y/N knew just how lucky they were.

After a few moments, Miko finally shifted her attention back to Y/N. “Te extraño, pequeña,” she said softly, holding the phone closer, as if Y/N could feel her presence through the device. “Cuando llego a casa, te voy a abrazar y apachurrar. Ya sabes que no puedo estar lejos de ti.”

Y/N smiled, envisioning Miko’s strong arms wrapping around her, cradling her against her muscular frame—a juxtaposition of strength and softness. “I miss you too, love,” she replied shyly, warmth enveloping her as she imagined Miko’s affection.

When their call ended, Miko pocketed her phone with a grin, her heart full. She was a bad-ass on the outside, known for her fierce lyrics and commanding presence, but at home, she was simply Miko—a loving mother and devoted wife.

[pinkslipxox]

hii bb!! i’m new to tumblr so i’m still figuring this out 😭😭

may i request a fic of smut with miko n reader? like maybe strap? tysm 😭💗

hey baby! Welcome to Tumblr! Yes ofc, hope you like it 🥰❤️

——————————————————————————

The night is warm, the Caribbean air wrapped around you like a soft embrace as you and Young Miko lounge in her car, the faint sounds of reggaeton pulsating from the speakers. The streetlights flicker outside, casting playful shadows inside the car, where the atmosphere is thick with the sweet scent of Miko’s pen. She takes a long drag, the smoke curling lazily around her as she turns to you with a mischievous grin, her dark eyes glinting under the dim light.

“¿Qué tal, pequeña?” she asks, her voice smooth and inviting, a delightful mix of Spanish and English rolling off her tongue. You love how she always knows how to make your heart flutter, the way she effortlessly blends both languages into one sweet melody.

You smile back, feeling a warmth radiate between you two, an electric pull that draws you closer. The outside world fades away, leaving just the two of you in this intimate bubble. She leans in, her lips just an inch from yours, teasing you, her breath mingling with the sweet scent of the vape.

“Mmm, I’ve been thinking about you all day,” Miko whispers, her fingers tracing softly along your jawline, sending shivers down your spine. You can’t help but blush at her words, the way she makes you feel both special and desired.

In a moment of spontaneity, you lean forward, capturing her lips with yours. The kiss starts slow, tender, as if you’re both savoring the taste of each other, but it quickly deepens into something more. Miko’s hands find your waist, pulling you closer until there’s no space left between you. The heat radiating from her body envelops you, intoxicating and utterly irresistible.

You can feel her passion ignite, and before you know it, you’re straddling her lap, riding her strap as if every movement is a conversation between your bodies, speaking in rhythms and sighs. Her hands grip your thighs with a firm gentleness, urging you on while her lips explore every inch of your neck and collarbone. You throw your head back in ecstasy, hips gyrating in circular motions as you succumb to your desires.

“Eres tan hermosa, mami,” she murmurs, her breath hot against your skin, sending waves of pleasure coursing through you. In her sturdy, tattooed arms, you feel safe, cherished. Miko’s fierce exterior melts away, revealing the soft, affectionate soul that resides within.

You can’t help but wrap your arms around her neck, pulling her in closer, needing to feel every heartbeat aligned with yours. The world outside fades completely; it’s just you, her, and the energy pulsating between your bodies. Just as it should be.

“Miko,” you whisper, intoxicated by her touch, lost in the rhythm of your hearts beating as one. You feel her inside you, her strap caressing your walls, filling you up with a precision that makes your head spin and pussy throb.

“Siempre tuya, pequeña,” she replies, her voice softening but filled with that commanding fierceness that only she possesses. There’s an unspoken promise in her words, a bond that feels unbreakable.

The car rocks gently as you lose yourselves further into each other, the outside world forgotten. In this moment beneath the Puerto Rican stars, you are both bad and good, fierce yet tender, perfectly intertwined.

[pinkslipxox]

F*ck TMZ

Summary: Miko holds you close after a difficult time

Warnings: fluff, angst 😊

——————————————————————————

Being married to Young Miko has been your biggest joy.

And your biggest challenge.

Attention Seeker. Gold Digger. Clout Chaser. Those are some of the many accusations you’ve endured since even before you and Miko got married. You can handle that— the criticism, the rumors— but it’s more than just being in the public eye that makes it difficult.

It’s the endless studio sessions, tight deadlines, and countless nights without her sleeping by your side. The soundchecks in other countries, the press tours, the pop-up shows. And going months at a time without her touch.

Tonight, you’re curled up in your hoodie—her hoodie—knees to your chest on the couch. The sleeves are pulled over your hands, wet with tears you gave up wiping away hours ago. The TV plays something you’re not watching. Your phone buzzes, screen lighting up with a photo of you and her—laughing, in love.

When she finally gets home, it’s 11:45 p.m. She drops her bag at the door, kicks off her sneakers, and the moment she rounds the corner and sees you, she softens. That is, until, she sees your tear-stricken face.

“Mi amor,” Miko sighs, walking over and crouching in front of you. Her tattooed hands cup your cheeks, thumbs brushing gently under your eyes. “Que pasó, baby? Why are you crying?”

You try to speak, but the lump in your throat is too thick. Your lips tremble. She leans in closer, her brows pulling together.

“Talk to me.”

You blink hard, willing the tears to stop, but they only come faster. “I missed you,” you whisper. “So much, Miko. I can’t do this… not like this.”

Her gaze softens more, and her fingers trail down to hold your hands, pulling them out from the sleeves. “I know. I know, baby. I’ve been gone too long. Pero estoy aquí ahora.”

Tears fall again. You hate how much you’ve missed her. How much this hurts.

She kisses you then—slow, reverent, like you’re holy.

Like the world’s gone to hell, but here, in this small corner of your apartment, in her arms, everything is soft again. Sweet. Yours.

Between kisses, she whispers against your skin:

"Fuck TMZ. Fuck the noise. Que digan lo que quieran, mi amor. Lo único que importa eres tú y yo."

She holds you in her arms, tightly, protectively as if she’s trying to shield you from the world itself. You clutch her hoodie, burying your face into the crook of her neck. Her scent—faint cologne, weed, vanilla from her lotion—grounds you. You close your eyes, letting the weight of Miko’s presence settle in your bones. You feel her shift, lifting you gently onto her lap, arms still wrapped around you like she’s afraid you’ll disappear.

For the rest of the night, Miko doesn’t leave your side. Not for the shower. Not for the phone. Not even for sleep. Instead, she falls asleep with you tangled around her, your head on her chest, her arm slung protectively over your waist.

And for a moment, just a moment, the world goes quiet again.

[pinkslipxox]

Nenita Linda

summary: Miko takes care of you on your period ❤️😩

warnings: only fluff 💕

——————————————————————————

It’s almost 1AM when you hear the front door unlock. The quiet shuffle of sneakers on tile, a low sigh, and the door closing shut.

“¿Pequeña?” Miko calls softly into the dim light, voice a little rough from hours in the studio. “I’m back, mi vida.“

You don’t answer.

You’re curled up tight, small under the blankets, hugging your pillow like it might anchor you to something. Your body aches. Your stomach cramps feel like they’re twisting something alive inside you. And despite the fact you’re wearing your softest hoodie—the one Miko gave you after her first tour—you’re still cold.

You hadn’t told her. You didn’t want to worry her. She’s been working so hard. She’s tired, busy, thriving. You didn’t want to be a burden.

But Miko sees the shape of you the moment she enters the room—and stops. Her tall frame goes rigid at first, tattoos glinting in the low light as she drops her keys to the dresser.

Then, quietly: “Mi amor…? Qué pasó?”

She’s by the bed in two strides. Her chain glinting in the moonlight. Her brows knit, that usual cocky, no-fucks-given attitude melting the moment she sees your face—tired, puffy, and clearly in pain.

You finally whisper, “It’s just... my period. I’m okay.”

But she’s already crouched beside you, brushing her tattooed fingers against your cheek, voice dropping so soft it’s almost a whisper:

“¿Por qué no me dijiste, nenita linda?”

You try to shrug. “You’ve been working so hard. I didn’t wanna bother you.”

She doesn’t even reply right away. She just pulls off her jacket, kicks off her shoes, and climbs into the bed behind you—muscular arms wrapping around your waist, pulling you close with absolute care. Her body molds to yours like it was made for this, for you.

“Bother me? Mamita... tú eres mi mundo entero,” she murmurs into your neck. “Si tú estás mal, I’m mal, too. ¿Me entiendes?”

Her hand slides under your hoodie, palm resting gently on your bloated belly, warm and steady.

You let out a shaky breath. Your whole body softens. You didn’t know how bad you needed her until she was here, cradling you like glass, holding you like you were precious.

“I’m sorry,” you whisper, voice faltering at the end.

“Shhh, don’t say that,” she says immediately, kissing the top of your head. “Tú no me tienes que pedir perdón por sentir. Ever.”

She starts rubbing small, slow circles into your stomach with one hand, the other holding you tighter to her chest, her nose tucked into your hair.

“I got you, okay? Pa’ eso estoy. Pa’ cuidarte. Pa’ amarte. Pa’ mimarte cuando tú te sientes como shit,” she mumbles, and you know that she’s already kicking herself for not noticing earlier.

You barely manage a small, teary smile. “You’re so good to me.”

She chuckles low, a little rough, a little breathless. “Claro que sí. Look at you… la nenita más hermosa en todo Puerto Rico. You think I’m gonna let you suffer sola? No jodas.”

You laugh, even through the pain.

She kisses your temple, your cheek, your shoulder—each one slow, lingering, full of care.

“Tomorrow I’m making you pancakes,” she adds. “With Nutella. And strawberries. Y te voy a calentar una bolsita pa' tu barriga. And I’m not leaving this bed unless it's pa' traerte agua o chocolate.”

You whisper, “Miko…”

She hums, still rubbing your stomach, holding you tighter. “Sí, bebé?”

“I love you.”

She smiles against your skin, all the tension in her fading. “Te amo más, pequeña. I’ll always take care of you… ya tú sabes.”

And you fall asleep like that—wrapped in her arms, belly held, pain dulled just by her presence. Outside, the streets of Puerto Rico are quiet. But in this room, everything is warm and soft and safe.

And she whispers again—like a promise, like a vow.

“Nunca más me escondas tu dolor, pequeña. I’m yours pa’ siempre, y eso significa everything. Always.”

[pinkslipxox]

part two of this request 💕 hope you all like it xx

—————————————————————————

You don’t even mean to check her story.

It’s instinct, really. Muscle memory. The kind of scroll your thumb knows before your brain does. Just a flick of your thumb and there she is—Miko. Her story’s nothing special, just a view from the studio, a flash of her rings tapping against the soundboard. But seeing her still feels like pressing a bruise.

You tell yourself you’re over it. Over her. You’re lying.

You exit the app. Toss your phone onto the bed like it just burned you. Your new girl is in the kitchen, humming to herself while making café, and you feel this strange guilt crawl under your skin. It’s not fair to her. She’s good. Kind. Steady.

But she’s not Miko.

And she doesn’t know that you’re spiraling. She never does. Neither does she ask about your past. You figure that’s why you like her.

You close your eyes.

You can still hear Miko’s voice—“Mi pequeña”—the way it used to roll out slow, almost reverent, like it was sacred. She said it like it belonged to her. Like you belonged to her.

You remember how she smelled. The vanilla lotion. Her sweat after a show. Her fingers always tapping against her thigh like a beat lived in her body even when she was still.

You remember the fights, too.

The silence between texts that stretched too long. The way you always felt like you were competing with her career, her fans, her need to be “on” all the time. You didn’t want to be a burden. You just wanted to matter. More than the music. More than the fame.

So you left.

And she let you go.

You hear your phone buzz again. It’s a DM.

From her.

Your stomach flips.

Miko 🖤:
We need to talk. In person. No más bullshit.

Your chest tightens.

It’s been months. You’ve tried to make peace with it—tried to convince yourself that it wasn’t love, just timing. That it was the distance. The lifestyle. The way she always smelled like smoke and late nights and heartbreak. The way she made you feel too much, all at once.

But it was love. And maybe it still is. That’s the part you don’t want to say out loud. You reread the message.

No more bullshit. That's what she says.

Like she didn’t feed you bullshit for months.

Like she didn’t let you go when you needed her to fight.

Still, your fingers hover over the screen.

You:
When?

It doesn’t even take a full minute.

Miko 🖤:
Sunset. Same playa as always.

You suck in a breath.

The beach.

You think of that last time you were there together. How she held your hand under the blanket. How you both watched the tide roll in and didn’t say the things you should’ve. How she made love to you, whispering sweet nothings and promises of love in your ear. You remember thinking, this isn’t gonna last, and hating yourself for being right.

Now here she is again. Showing up. Maybe late. Maybe messy. But showing up.

You close your eyes and press the phone to your chest.

You don’t owe her anything. Not anymore. But there’s a part of you—small, stubborn, maybe stupid—that wants to go. That wants to hear what she has to say, even if it cracks you open again.

As a ruse, you tell your girlfriend that you’re going to the store. By the time you pull up near the beach, the sky is pink and orange, the way it always is when the sun starts slipping behind the water. You see her before she sees you—Miko. Hoodie up, hands in her pockets, pacing slow near the edge of the sand like she’s arguing with herself.

You get out of the car. Take a breath. Then another. And start walking.

She turns when she hears your footsteps crunching in the sand. For a second, neither of you say anything. Then she pulls the hood back and exhales like she’s been holding her breath since the day you left.

“Coño,” she says, eyes scanning you like she’s memorizing you all over again. “You came.”

You nod. “You said no more bullshit.”

Miko huffs a small, almost-sad laugh. “Yeah. I meant that.”

You wait.

The silence stretches.

She looks out at the water, jaw tight. “I saw that picture. On Instagram. You looked happy.”

You swallow. “I was trying.”

She flinches a little, then meets your eyes again. “Does she love you right?”

The question stings. Mostly because she’s the only one who ever tried to ask. Really ask.

“She’s trying,” you say quietly. “But it wasn’t the same.”

Miko nods, like she already knew. Then she steps a little closer. “I let you go. I thought I was protecting you. Pero la verdad?” Her voice wavers. “I was just scared.”

You feel that old ache bloom in your chest.

Scared. That was always the thing. Scared of failing you. Scared of the spotlight. Scared of loving you so much it hurt her career. Herself.

“I didn’t need you to protect me, Maria Victoria,” you say softly. “I just needed you.”

Miko swallows, hard. “I still need you, Y/N. Más que nunca.”

The waves crash a little harder behind you, wind picking up just enough to push hair into your eyes. Miko brushes it away instinctively, and you freeze. Her hand lingers at your cheek. She looks at you like you’re still hers. Like you’ve always been hers.

“Miko…” You know you shouldn’t lean into her touch but you do.

“Te extraño tanto, mi pequeña,” she whispers. Miko steps closer, voice steadier now. “I know that I fucked up… and I know that saying ‘perdón’ isn’t going to be enough. Te amo, Y/N. So damn much. More than la fama, el escenario, la música. And I always will.”

Tears begin to roll down your face as you take in Miko’s words. She tenderly wipes them away. You close your eyes, letting the moment settle between you—the weight of the past, the ache of what’s still there, and the terrifying hope of what could be. The wind carries the salt of the sea, the sharpness of regret, and something else, too: the undeniable truth in her voice.

“I don’t know if we can fix everything,” you whisper.

She nods. “We don’t have to fix everything today.”

There’s a pause.

But it’s enough. You take her hand.

“Okay,” you say. “Let’s try.”

The wind wraps around the both of you as she pulls you into her arms—gentler this time. No promises, no grand illusions.

Just the beginning.

[pinkslipxox]

Heyy! you can make a miko fic where the reader and miko break up but the reader gets a new girlfriend and miko is jealous, plsss? 💕

Sorry if I wrote it wrong. English is not my first language 😭

hey baby!!! Hope you like it xx let me know if you want a part 2 🙈❤️

update: part 2 found here

——————————————————————————

Coño.

Miko’s claw clenched as she scrolled through her social media. Her thumb hovered over the Instagram screen, heart pounding behind her ribcage.

There it was. A photo of Y/N. Her Y/N. Smiling under the same Puerto Rican sun, all bright eyes and soft lips—except now those lips were kissing someone else’s cheek. Some new girl. Some nobody that had the audacity to have what’s hers.

Miko scoffed, lips curling in disgust. “Hija de la fucking puta madre.”

The break up came out from unkept promises and endless nights without each other. A decision that Miko reluctantly agreed to, out of love for Y/N. No matter how much Miko begged Y/N not to leave, she loved Y/N too much to let her stay out of the cost of her own happiness.

Miko hated the way her chest felt tight. How her arms ached to hold Y/N in her arms. And her voice— diablo— her voice, more than anything. With a frustrated sigh, she grabbed her phone, hands shaking just enough to make her mad, and scrolled to Mari’s contact. Hit call.

It rang twice.

“Miko?” Mari sounded tired—probably thought it was about work. “¿Qué pa—?”

“Y/N has a new girlfriend.” Miko growled. Then, her voice cracked as she continued, “Y/N. On Instagram. She’s with alguien más. Just there, all happy and shit.”

Mari didn’t say anything for a second. Then: “…Damn.”

“That’s all you gotta say? Damn?” Miko scoffed, her tattooed hand running over her shoulder length hair in frustration.

Mari sighed. “Miko, you let her go.”

“Lo sé!” Miko began to pace. “I thought I was protecting her! This life— la fama, los haters, la presión— is not easy. Tú sabes eso, Mari. Y luego la dejé ir como una tonta. I ruined everything.”

“You didn’t ruin it,” Mari said gently. “You just… stepped back when she needed you close.”

“I need her back,” Miko said, more to herself than anyone. Her voice had dropped to a whisper. “I can’t stand the thought of someone else touching her. Holding her. Diciéndole cosas que no siente. That girl don’t know her like I do. She ain’t got nothing on me.”

Mari paused. “So what are you gonna do?”

Miko’s voice steadied. “Voy a buscarla.”

“You sure?”

“I don’t care if it’s messy. I don’t care if she hates me. I need her to know. She’s still mine. She’s still mi pequeña.”

Mari exhaled slowly. “Then go. Pero be real with her, Miko. No más bullshit.”

Miko nodded to herself. “No más bullshit.”

With that, the call ended.

Miko stopped pacing. Something shifted in her eyes—anger, pain, and a spark of that old love she’d been burying under lyrics and late nights. More importantly, the unmistakable desire to reclaim her Y/N, her pequeña, her everything.

No más bullshit, Miko repeated to herself, the vow lingering in the air like curling smoke.