#youngmiko

"porque eres tan linda, que siento que te puedes llevar a zhamira sin tener que hacer nada." (because you're so pretty, i feel like you could take zhamira without even trying.) his voice was teasing. you watched as miko laughed and shook her head at her old friend, knowing the statement was nothing more than a compliment.

"no, no, jay, nunca." (no, no, jay, never.) "lo sé, amor, te estoy jodiendo, te quiero mucho, mamita." (i know, love, i'm just joking. i love you a lot, mamita.) he spoke genuinely, not as jay wheeler the singer but more as josé ángel, her friend. there was something about the comfortable vibe, the cozy atmosphere, that made her feel so at ease that without thinking she responded.

"ya tengo la mía, estoy bien." (i already have mine, i'm good.) the words caught both you and jay off guard. he had seen you both hanging out a lot over the past two years, but had assumed you were simply part of miko's team, especially knowing how professional you usually were.

"¿qué tú me dices?!" (what are you telling me right now?) he asked, very much invested in the gossip despite being a straight man. you sat still, holding your breath as if everyone might suddenly acknowledge your presence. miko just chuckled. "so, tengo pareja." (so, i have a partner.) jay's eyes widened in disbelief. "¡acho, chica! ¿cuándo me ibas a decir eso?" (damn, girl! when were you gonna tell me?) vicky kept laughing. "eventually! it's been under wraps." she explained with a soft smile, glancing over at you. your face was slightly flushed. there was nothing wrong with her confession. you had both talked about things like this getting out eventually, you just never imagined it would happen this way.

"baby," she called out. it took you a second to realize she was talking to you. looking up, you locked eyes with her and flashed an awkward smile, giving a small wave. "¿quieres salir en el video?" (you wanna be in the video?) her tone was soft and sweet, almost protective. it made you blush harder, she had always been so considerate. jay quickly waved you over. "¡sí, sí, ven pa'acá!" (yes, yes, come over here!) that encouraged you to get up and move your chair into frame beside vicky. you offered a shy hello to the camera before turning to jay. it was his podcast, after all. the hard lights and the camera on you felt uncomfortable. yes, you worked in the industry, but you were the one behind the so-called magic of it all. never in front of cameras, your face practically unrecognizable to the public despite all the song credits you had racked up in your late twenties.

"le vamos a dar la bienvenida a y/n! letrista, productora, e ingeniera de sonido. ha trabajado con muchísimos artistas, y probablemente ha trabajado en una de tus canciones favoritas." (i want to welcome y/n to the pod! lyricist, producer, and sound engineer. she's worked with tons of artists and has probably worked on one of your favorite songs.) jay introduced. you couldn't help but feel shy, no one ever introduced you quite like that.

"wow, that's so nice," you chuckled. vicky noticed your stiffness in front of the camera and cut in to ease the tension. "she's worked with jay before, too." "sí, en el último álbum. pasamos mucho tiempo juntos y la aprecio de verdad por eso. tú eres una dura, y/n." (yeah, on my last album. we spent a lot of time together and i truly hold her close to my heart for it. you're the best, y/n.) he praised.

"diablo, pero ninguna de las dos me iban a decir que estaban juntas, mano!" (damn, but neither one of you was going to tell me you two were together, man!) he teased. you laughed. "no, no- yo te dije que tenía pareja, jay." (no, no - i told you i had a partner, jay.) "¡cabrona, pero nunca dijiste que era young fucking miko!" (bitch, you never said it was young fucking miko!) the room erupted in laughter and the conversation kept flowing, the awkward tension in your body easing as the podcast started to feel like a chat between friends.

"tú no sabes cuántos tipos me han preguntado por y/n." (you don't know how many guys have asked about y/n.) vicky tilted her head slightly, as if turning something over in her mind. "¿quién?" she asked jay, her tone edging into something more serious. you could already feel her jealousy building.

"ay, casi todos, cada hombre soltero que entraba a mi estudio con ella salía de allí enamorao." (oh, almost all of them. every single guy that walked into my studio with her left falling in love with her.) all you could do was chuckle. you knew exactly how possessive and jealous your girlfriend could get, and you weren't even a public figure. with men, women, regardless of gender. she wanted everyone to know you were hers and she was yours, and moments like this were exactly why.

"pues se jodieron, tiene novia." (well, they're fucked. she has a girlfriend.) she cut in, the smile on her face fading just slightly. you rested a hand on her knee, a quiet reassurance. "shit, sí, y celosa." (shit, yeah, and a jealous one.) he laughed. you both cracked up. vicky blushed a little at being called out for her reaction to the idea of random men asking about you. even if deep down, she knew you were completely hers.

the podcast wrapped up not long after, the crew beginning to break down equipment around you while jay pulled vicky into a separate conversation, something about a feature he'd been sitting on for months. you slipped back behind the camera out of habit, fingers absently tidying the cords near the monitor even though it wasn't your setup to manage.

zhamira caught you doing it and laughed softly. "you can't help yourself, can you?"

"occupational hazard," you admitted with a smile.

it was another twenty minutes before vicky broke away from jay, and the moment she did, her eyes found you immediately, almost like a reflex. like you were the first thing she looked for whenever she entered a room, which you had slowly come to realize over the past two years was exactly the case. she crossed over to you without a word, arms slipping around your waist from behind as you were zipping up your bag. her chin came to rest on your shoulder, and you felt her exhale. long and slow, the kind she only let out when it was just the two of you. or close enough to it. "lo hiciste bien." (you did well.) she murmured against the side of your face.

"i barely said anything."

"exactly." you could feel her smile against your cheek.

"you were perfect." you laughed quietly, turning in her arms to face her. up close, away from the lights and the camera and the version of herself she performed for the world, she just looked like vicky. tired eyes, the little crease between her brows she got when she was finally coming down from social mode, lip gloss mostly worn off.

"you could have warned me," you said, though there wasn't any real weight behind it. she had the decency to look at least a little guilty. "i know. it came out." she searched your face for a moment.

"are you upset?" you thought about it. genuinely considered the question. the camera, the lights, the sudden spotlight on a life you'd carefully kept quiet. jay's wide eyes. the clip that was probably already being edited into something viral. "no," you said honestly. "i'm not upset."

the crease between her brows softened. she brought one hand up, tucking a loose strand of hair behind your ear the way she always did when she didn't quite have the words. a small, practiced tenderness that she'd never once done for a camera.

"te amo," (i love you) she said simply.

"i know you do." you leaned in, pressing a kiss to the corner of her mouth.

"y yo a ti." (i love you too.) she pulled you in the rest of the way, and the kiss was unhurried and quiet, nothing like the loud, bright evening you'd just survived. when she pulled back, her forehead dropped against yours and she let out a soft laugh.

"jay is going to send me that clip every day for the rest of my life."

"probably," you laughed, knowing how jay loved to terrorize your girlfriend with embarrassing moments of herself. adding this jealous burst to the roaster was probably gold for him, and you, reminding yourself how cute vicky would get when jealous.

⋆˙⟡ miko is the type of girlfriend who falls asleep listening to your heartbeat with her nose nuzzled in the crook of your neck syncing her breathing with yours ᰔ ⊹˚₊

⋆˙⟡ miko is the type of girlfriend who wears your hoodies because they "smell like you" and "feel warmer" even tho you know that's not the real reason, you let her. because you know that you bring her comfort, your scent, your presence and your warmth is enough for her to feel loved ᰔ ⊹˚₊

⋆˙⟡ miko is the type of girlfriend who whispers a little "i love you" right before falling asleep while you brush your fingers through her hair ᰔ ⊹˚₊

⋆˙⟡ miko is the type of girlfriend who helps you take care of your hair whenever you're too tired, fingers gently massaging shampoo onto your scalp while you lean back against her chest dozing off to sleep while she takes care of you ᰔ ⊹˚₊

⋆˙⟡ miko is the type of girlfriend who studies your facial expressions, falling more and more in love with every little smile you show or every time you roll your eyes because of her playtul teasing ᰔ ⊹˚₊

⋆˙⟡ miko is the type of girlfriend who tucks you in your blanket when you're too sleepy to move, laying behind you pulling you close to her body so you can peacefully fall asleep feeling protected and adored ᰔ ⊹˚₊

⋆˙⟡ miko is the type of girlfriend who wakes up before you every sunday to make your favorite pancakes and bring them to bed to wake you up with a smile ᰔ ⊹˚₊

“Will this be the last time?” you asked, your tone dripping with sarcasm. It was a question you asked every time, knowing damn well what the answer would be. Miko had a way of making promises she never intended to keep, and yet here you were, part of her revolving door.

She didn’t respond, instead lighting a blunt with an air of indifference, the flicker illuminating her features momentarily. She took a long drag, exhaling slowly as she sat on the edge of the bed, her body language closed off.

“Qué? Don’t feel like talking?” you shot back, propping yourself up on one elbow, irritation bubbling beneath your skin.

“I don’t feel like talking to you,” she replied flatly, her eyes avoiding yours.

“So saying dirty things in my ear isn’t talking? Fucking me isn’t talking?” you challenged, feeling the familiar mix of anger and frustration rise within you.

Miko remained silent, her gaze fixed somewhere beyond the walls of the room.

“Right,” you scoffed, rolling your eyes. “Famous Young Miko gets what she wants and walks away without a second thought.”

“If you’re so hurt about it, why do you keep accepting it?” Miko finally replied, her voice sharp, the edge of annoyance creeping in.

You turned your head to glare at her, frustration boiling over. “I could say the same about you,” you shot back, your tone defensive.

“I’m not hurt,” she insisted, though the slight quiver in her voice suggested otherwise.

“Yeah, right. You come running to me every time you’re upset, just to fuck your feelings away.” Your words cut through the tension, puncturing the bubble of denial she’d built around herself.

Miko flicked the ash from her blunt against the wall, the sharp sound echoing in the silence as she stood up to wash her face in the bathroom.

“The least you could do is show some respect,” you called after her, your voice laced with resentment.

“I do respect you,” she mumbled, her voice muffled by the sound of running water.

You rolled your eyes, turning away from her. “Respect? This isn’t respect. This is a transaction.”

After a few moments, Miko emerged from the bathroom, her hair damp and falling into her eyes. She slipped under the covers next to you, instinctively seeking warmth.

“It’s always the same, Vicky,” you said, your voice low and tinged with disappointment, frustration bubbling up alongside the familiar ache.

“I know…” she mumbled, sounding almost defeated, her voice barely above a whisper as she curled up behind you.

all vicky could do was smile behind the camera as she watched your mouth slowly open in shock. "wait wait- replay it.. i'm not focused on the lyrics." you laughed as she reached over again and hit a key on her specialized keyboard to rewind the video. this time around you were sitting and nodding, analyzing the lyrics. that's when you heard it.

the final line in her first verse. 'pero si algo está seguro, es que a mí me encanta chingar.' (but rest assured, i love to fuck.)

a scream came out of your mouth before your hand flew up to cover it. "MARIA VICTORIA!" you yelled with a soft laugh. your girlfriend had always had explicit lyrics but this somehow, putting it so boldly and plainly out there was new and extremely unexpected. "¿qué pasó? ¿qué hice?" (what happened? what did i do?) she laughed as she reached to pause the video, faking innocence. "¿qué es eso de me gusta chingar, chica?" (what's that whole 'i like to fuck' thing?) you laughed, gently hitting her arm to tease her a bit. you could see her cheeks blush as you continued to bother her about it.

"i wasn't lying i mean..." she spoke matter-of-factly. you continued to laugh and added a nod. "sí, tienes razón." (yeah, you're right.) you finally managed to get out. vicky then hit play once again, watching you intently, obviously very amused. you watched, your head bopping to the beat and smiling once you realized she had also been doing the choreography with the dancers. "¿y ese baile, victoria?" (you can dance, victoria?) you chuckled, nodding along to the chair routine.

"¿la más freaky aquí soy yo?" (i'm the freakest of them all.) you questioned the opening of the second verse, laughing when your girlfriend hid her face in her own hoodie. "eres freaky porque yo te entrené, bebé, no te olvides." (you're freaky because i taught you, baby, don't forget it.) you smirked, laughing hard at vicky's reaction to your statement behind the camera. her mouth opened wide in shock before letting out a loud squeak.

"i can't upload this!" she scolded, which caused you to laugh. "hey, i didn't write the song, you did. i'm just reacting to it." you explained with your hands up. she shook her head and continued to observe her own video while standing behind you. she looked really good in the video with her white baby tee and low-rise jeans. it was a drastic difference from what she had been wearing in that moment with you.

you almost didn't catch it, but once you heard it you couldn't help but comment on the word 'singar'. "¿y eso de singar? ¿te estás juntando con una domi sin decirme, muchacha? lo sé todo." (what's that thing about 'singar'? are you hooking up with a dominican girl without telling me? girl, i see you.) you teased, poking fun at the fact that the slang word used wasn't one native to puerto rico. vicky laughed only to then scoff and shake her head. "mi amor, era para la rima." (my love, it was just for the rhyme in the verse.) she clarified, knowing you weren't serious.

the video went on and the second chorus played. you shook your head at her and chuckled. "ay no puedo, babe, te ves bien jeva." (i can't, babe, you look really hot.) the flashes of her toned tattooed abdomen on the screen as she did a few simple dance moves were really doing it for you. you knew it would do it for her fans as well. at that point you had kind of gotten the lyrics to the chorus memorized as they repeated a few times. "paso paso para ti." (i pose for you.) you hummed along.

as the song got to its bridge, the tempo slowed a bit. usual for most of your girlfriend's title track songs. this was usually where she sang most of her lyrics rather than rapped them, so you listened intently.

'cuando te quiero ver, me pongo sucia y se me va lo de románti.' (when i want to see you, i forget the romance and get dirty.)

you smirked a little and looked at her. "¿y eso?" (what's that about?)

she laughed and shook her head before answering. "who do you think that lyric is inspired by?" her arms wrapping around your shoulders to lean in and give you a sweet kiss on your temple as you continued to watch. you chuckled once more, looking at the camera and pointing at it. "just in case anyone needed clarification, eso lo escribió para mí." (she wrote that for me.)

in the video, rain began to fall over vicky and her dancers. you hummed, vicky's arms still around you as you watched. her voice matching up with the song, "muy sexy yo lo sé~ tu crush y yo lo sé~" (too sexy and i know, your crush and i know.)

you cut her off on the next line, faking outrage. "¿perdóname, qué?" (excuse me, what?) you reached over and paused the song, escaping her hold and turning back to look at her. "say the next line for me." you ordered, to which vicky turned around to face the wall. her soft chuckles audible to you, making you want to drop the facade. you stood firm. "¿too sexy pa' tener una jeva y no dos o tres?" (too sexy to have one girlfriend and not two or three?)

"¿qué es eso, victoria?!" (what's that victoria?)

vicky continued to look at the wall, her body jolting as she held in her giggles. "¡tú eres la única, te lo juro!" (you're the only one, i swear!) she played along between fits of laughter. you laughed, knowing her lyrics were always just fronts with slices of real-life inspiration, nothing to take too seriously but, as her girlfriend you had to tease her even if just a little bit. "¡mi novia cantando de cafrería!" (my girlfriend singing about horny stuff.)

"como siempre, mamí, tú sabes lo que hay." (like always, mamí, you know what it's like.) she responded and it made you burst out laughing as the song faded out. she wasn't someone to speak like that in day-to-day conversation. "ay no puedo, jodia bellaca." (i can't, you fucking horny bitch.) you laughed as vicky made her way over to you, turning the chair you had been sitting on towards her. a small smile on her lips before leaning in and pressing a kiss to your lips. "you love me though." she whispered, your lips feeling her breath against them as she spoke.

"more than anything." you replied in a hushed tone. the mood quickly changing from silly laughs and giggles to something a bit more steamy. vicky pulled you up from the chair gently and connected your lips once more. her hands slipping onto your ass before you pulled away. "apaga la cámara, mi amor." (turn off the camera, my love.) you laughed, reminding her of the camera that had been pointed at the chair. you guys did not need a random leak before the announcement of her deluxe album and tour.

vicky laughed against your lips and pulled back just enough to reach over and click the camera off. the little red recording light blinked out and the studio fell quiet around you both. she turned back to you, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear with a gentleness that always caught you off guard coming from someone who could command an entire stage. "¿qué pensaste?" (what did you think?) she asked softly, her blue eyes searching yours, a rare hint of nervousness behind them.

you smiled, looping your arms around her neck. "i think it's one of your best ones." you said honestly. "and i think your fans are going to lose their minds."

the relief that washed over her face was immediate, her shoulders dropping as a quiet, genuine laugh escaped her. she pulled you into a tight hug, her chin resting on top of your head. "gracias, mi vida." (thank you, my life.) she murmured into your hair.

you held her back just as tightly, your cheek pressed against her chest, the faint sound of her heartbeat steady beneath it. for all the boldness she put into her music, moments like this were yours alone. quiet, unhurried, and completely real.

"now can we eat?" you mumbled after a moment. "i've been here for two hours and you haven't offered me anything."

vicky burst out laughing, the sound filling the whole studio. "¡ay, qué dramática!" (oh, how dramatic!) she pulled back and grabbed your hand, already leading you toward the door.