lukaindenial

౨ৎ˚₊ a fleeting moment….

hi there!!! I’m luka. nineteen. she/her. multifandom but right now I can only write about michael (i'm in love with otw and thriller era mike)

i can’t promise I’ll be here for long or as consistently as other accounts, as I have random phases and then move on to the next thing, but I have some ideas that i can't wait to share.

otw!michael jackson x f!popstar!reader

synopsis: you take michael up on his offer to work with you in his studio.

this is the part 2 of something i wrote, click here for pt 1!

content: otw!mike (but i can lowkey see this working for any other 80s era), blindfolded make out sesh in the studio YUH!!!, lowkey kinda angsty, mainly fluff tho, reader is shedding her bird tendencies.

wc: ~2k

notes: inspired by another diana ross song. it's still f diana over here tho. reposted bc frickin tumblr put a content warning over it so i'd appreciate it if y'all could reblog so that it still gets out there!! lowkey not proofread i was too excited to get this one out. thanks for all the love on my last one, hope this was worth the waittt!!!

"i'm glad you came." 

you were at michael's home studio in his hayvenhurst mansion. the last time you guys saw each other, you were performing at one of the best discotheques in new york, and michael's lips graced your hand, sending bolts down your spine in a way that your boyfriend could not. 

he invited you to his studio because he wanted to make music with you, and you hesitantly obliged. not because you didn't want to see him or make music with him. you were just scared to fall for him any more than you already have. you found yourself feeling guilty, despite all the stuff your boyfriend put you through. you felt bad not taking into account his feelings, just like how he did with you when he cheated. 

if this continued, you knew you wouldn’t be any better than your boyfriend. you knew you had to start thinking of breaking up with him, that's how serious it’s been. that's how badly you've been craving michael. you thought about him to go to sleep, replaying that kiss in your head, that peck on your cheek. you can't imagine what a kiss on the mouth from him would be like. probably heaven. you appreciated  that he took his time, that his kisses were inviting, not expecting. just a gentle sign of how he might feel for you with no obligation for you to feel the same way. the night of the discotheque, you took your boyfriend’s petty advice, and wrote a new song. you wanted to record it with the help of michael. 

and that's how you ended up at his hayvenhurst doorstep. the door was wide open and michael was leaning on it, practically towering over you. the first thing you noticed-- well, second thing apart from his strikingly beautiful features--- was his scent. it was floral yet musky and it was strong. like he drowned himself in it. you bit back a smile, wondering if that was for you. 

"i'm glad i came, too," you said, walking into his studio.

"i didn't think you would." michael closed the door and rushed over to pull out a chair for you in front of the soundboard. 

"i didn't think so either," you touched his arm as a ‘thank you’ and sat. "inspiration struck, though. my producer sent me a demo a while back and it’s just been collecting dust. but i wrote some lyrics and i wanted to try it out.” 

"that’s nice.” he was standing up,  arms resting of the headrest of his swivel chair. "what’s it soundin’  like?”

“the.. lyrics?” 

“no, silly, the song. you brought the demo?” 

“oh yeah. i did. of course…” you rummaged through your purse until you found it. you handed it to him. your hands brushed with his for a split second, and you tried to hide the effect that it had on you. 

“what kinda artist doesn’t label their cassettes?” he teased. 

"the kind that'll walk out of this studio if you keep testin’ me." he sits down in the empty chair in front of him, smiling at you. “ i'm kidding, i'm kidding." 

"better be."

"you’re a feisty girl, you know that? i like that about you,” he said as he pushed the cassette into its deck. 

“how do you like that about me when we’ve only talked a few times?”

he sat in thought, thinking of the right words that wouldn’t scare you off. the truth was he knew more about you than he let on. he's asked about you to anyone who was ever within a 2 foot radius of you.

“let’s just say i've wanted you– i mean, i've wanted to work with you for a while.” you pretended to ignore his slip up. 

the room became uncomfortably thick. in that moment you realized that you guys were completely alone. there was no one else in the studio, not a producer, mixer, or manager. no safeguard to make sure you wouldn’t mess up and do something reckless. and that was dangerous. 

the music started playing and you snapped out of your thoughts. “uh, i'm kind of parched. do you have something to drink?" 

"yeah i do, what would you like?"

"some water would be nice."

"water, water, okay," he mumbles to himself as he rolled in his chair to the mini fridge. He returned with a water bottle, orange juice and two glasses. he poured water in a bottle for you, and you watched him pour some orange juice for himself. 

"i wanted to say thank you again for that night. it was really fun because of you."

"oh, yeah?" he smiled, barely able to keep eye contact with you. "you made my night, too. i was kinda hoping you'd call on me. why did you?"

you took a risk. "i don't know, uhh, i thought you looked really good. you stood out."

he looked up at you for the slightest second and you felt a wave of embarrassment, excitement, and anticipation all at once.

"wow that's really nice... thank you.” him stumbling over his words made you feel sort of powerful.

you kept going. "...and you're a great dancer and singer. there was no other choice really." you took a sip of your water, hiding the smile creeping across your face. you were aware that this was dangerous, that you might be fueling a fire you won't be able to put out later. but in the moment, here alone with michael, you started to like all of the awkwardness and tension between you too. it was the most exciting thing you've felt for years. 

"so... what's the song about?" 

"yeah," you moved on as well. you slightly dimmed, feeling as though you made him uncomfortable. the truth was michael was hunched over, with his hands in between his legs, trying to hide the fact that he was unraveling from just your words alone.

you pull out a piece a paper from you purse that had a whole bunch of mess on it: sketches, quotes, words, doodles. the lyrics were somewhere in there. 

"okay, what am i looking at?" michael scooted a little closer, closing the gap between you two.

"my process." you pointed. "look, these are the main lyrics, essentially. i sent them to my producer this morning, but he doesn’t think i could pull off a ‘sensual song’ . he’s thinking of giving it to marvin, or worse, diana."

you look at michael deeply.

"i don’t want diana singing my song, michael. i want it to come from me. it already came from me. and you kind of have that sensual thing down, so i thought you could help me."

"i do?"

"yeah, of course, 'i can't help it' is the most sensual song you've made so far."

"okay, okay, i can try." he stood up, and outstretched his hand. "come get in the booth with me."

you followed him into the recording booth, and there stood a little makeshift room with thick velvety black curtains on all sides except the one facing the rest of the studio.

"Q taught me this. well, kinda." he had his hands on your shoulders and gently pushed you toward the microphone. you felt him shift behind you, his warmth leaving you for a bit, before it came back. he took a piece of fabric just lying around, suspiciously, and wrapped it around your eyes.

"ow! that's tight, mike."

“sorry, darling." he loosened it a little bit, as you smiled at the pet name. 

"there, you're all good now. put your headphones on." 

now that your sight was impaired, all you could do was feel him so close behind you. he told you to breathe in and out deeply, and you did so. he rubbed your shoulders while he spoke.

“Q always tells me to think about the inspiration for the song, and start from there. okay? pretend i'm not here." 

"hard to do that when you're touching m-"

"shhh shhh shhh," he cooed. "this won't work if you're tense and talking." he liked that you kind of admitted that him touching you was affecting you. 

his mouth was now about half an inch from your ear. 

"the demo is looped, so start whenever you want, we'll fix it up later."

you followed his instructions, and began to think about the muse for the song. and it's none other than the man right behind you, caressing your shoulders, making your body feel more sensitive to touch than it actually was. you let out a melodic moan in tune with the song, and another one. and another one. you finally felt the courage to sing: 

if there's a cure for this/ i don't want it, i don't want it

if there's a cure for this/ i don't want it, don't want it

think about it all the time/ thinking only makes me smile, and say hey…

though you couldn't see it, michael was practically melting at your voice, coated with thick honey, deep and almost to a whisper. it was different from all the other times you sang. you're usually perky and expressive during your vocals, but this was a different avenue for you, a different genre, a different feeling. he liked that he contributed to it. 

if there's a cure for this/ i don't want it, i don't want it

if there's a remedy/ i'll run from it, from it

think about it all the time/never let it out of my mind, 'cause i love you

your voice heightened to a note you'd never explored and it made michael tingly. made him remember why he loved music. you both started to sway to the demo as you sang. michael slid his hands down from your shoulders to your waist, both hands interlocked and resting on your hips. he was starting to relax into you, and you could tell because his face found the crook of the right side of your neck and rested there, his chest rising and falling deeply on your back.

what you weren't expecting was for him to plant a kiss on your exposed shoulder, and another, and another. he didn't plan this either, it was just the effect you hand on him in the moment. he never had you this close to him, this dependent on him, and he was afraid that he never would again. he's ached for you for many months, praying for any interaction. and now you were in his studio with him and only him. 

he didn't plan for his kisses to start traveling up your jaw, your ear, and back down your neck. your breath hitched. 

"mike..." you managed to muster. his hands were now gripping firm on the sides of your torso. he turned you around to face him. the only indication of him being there and soooooooo painstakingly close to you, was the heat of his breath, and the feeling of his chest meeting yours. you tried to take your blindfold off, at least to be able to see him before making that bittersweet mistake of melting into his kiss, but he stopped you. he didn’t want you to try and rely on your sight at all. he just wanted you to feel him.

"can i kiss you?" his voice was a deep and raspy mess.

you knew saying yes would change everything. at the very least it would confirm your plans for the next day, which would be breaking up with your boyfriend.

so you nodded, and he put his lips against yours, and you practically collapsed into it. the only sounds in the studio were the demo faintly playing  and your lips smacking against each other. when he kissed, he kissed with his whole body, swaying, moving like waves into yours. his hands roamed your body quite desperately, as though he was searching for more of you to grab on to and keep close to him. he didn’t want this moment to end, and neither did you. quiet moans escaped your mouth. you could feel him smile through the kiss.

your senses were heightened because of the blindfold.  the fact that you had no choice but to feel him and hear him made every kiss, every moan, and every touch feel so tender and meaningful. and it proved that you didn't even have to see him for him to make you feel good. your hands roamed up his arms that were tensed under his sweater. you move up to his hair, pulling at the back of it, that elicits a sweet groan from him.

but suddenly, you put your hands on his chest and pushed him away. you could have sworn you were about to drown in his affection. and if you didn’t come back up for air anytime soon, who knew how this would end. 

you rapidly took off the headphones and the blindfold. through heavy breaths, you say, "i need to do something. thank you for this, but i- i have to go."

through heavier breaths, he replied, "okay. i'll see you out." you searched his pensive expression, hoping that you hadn't upset him. he thought he had scared you off, but once you laughed at the lipgloss all over his lips and wiped it off, he instantly melted into your touch, relaxing.  

“there, all better."

he followed you out the booth, turned off the music, and opened the door for you. 

"may i ask what you thought about when you were singing in there?"

you smiled, amused by the curious expression on his face. you kissed him on the lips once, a nonverbal answer to his question: you, michael. 

"bye, mike."

“wait-what about your demo?” he shouted behind you as you walked deeper into the night. he looked for every excuse to keep you there with him just a little bit longer.

“don’t worry! keep it for me, i’ll come back later!”

later. michael held on to your words, smiling at the fact that he’d see you another day.

a/n: I find it so funny that i stole diana’s song for inspo and the reader doesn’t want to give the song to diana like, i’m so tickled. i think i have one more part in me before i'm done with this series. anyway as always requests are open, i'm slow but i'll get to them. the more specific the better!

otw!michael jackson x popstar!reader

click here for pt 2

synopsis: popstar!reader is a famous singer with a guitarist for a boyfriend in her band. she brings michael up on stage to dance with her. little does she know, michael is enamored by her and shows it onstage, to her boyfriend's dismay.

content: otw!era mike, i imagined a black reader but it's not explicitly mentioned, fluff! cheating boyfriend trope, i did use diana ross's song as inspo for this so that's lowkey a diana mention i'm sorry if that's triggering. reader is lowkey a bird, hmm what else. i think that's it. some kisses, some suggestive dancing ayeeee!

wc: ~2k...ish

notes: this is basically based on that one clip of diana inviting michael onstage to sing upside down. again tw: diana references i'm so sorry it just happened. the synopsis sounds really ass i'm so sorry LMFAO. no but just read it like it's my first fic give me grace. i lowkey have an idea for a part two.

the dingy new york discotheque welcomed you with open arms on a chilly night in 1980. you and your band, the satisfiers, were in the middle of performing your newest single ‘upside down’. while the groove was distractingly sharp, the lyrics were perhaps your most raw, because it unveiled the tumultuous relationship that you had with your boyfriend, who also happened to be the bassist in your band. the lyrics came to you on a solemn saturday night, where you found out that your boyfriend was cheating on you with his ex. and yet you couldn't seem to let go. your band is at the height of their success and a scandal like this would only hurt that. or at least that was the justification your boyfriend convinced you to go with.  

so you let it happen.

you let him continue to embarrass and betray you as long as he kept the status quo onstage, the narrative that it was you and him. you let the hurt fester inside you until it was unbearable enough that you wrote about it. you let him smirk at the lyrics that shamefully admit that you carry the burden of loving him no matter what he does. at least writing about it got you somewhere. it brought you to the discotheque's stage, where you happily danced to your tragic song alongside your other bandmates. the crowd didn’t seem to mind the solemn lyrics you sang; your voice was that of a siren, carrying them into an alternate dimension where their problems were miniscule.

you were almost at the segment where you bring up someone from the crowd to dance with you. through the sea of bodies, all sweaty and probably coked up, you spotted a familiar tall silhouette with the nicest curls you'd ever seen, apart from your own. the strobe lights roamed up his slender figure and captured his face. it's none other than michael jackson, the guy that’s been on everyone's minds and moodboards since he was 10. 

"now y'all know i can’t do this next part on my own, i need someone to help me. ”  you strut across the stage, twirling a finger in your hair. 

“i need someone tall and fine, someone who can dance.” you put your hand over your eyes, as if you were searching through the crowd. but you already knew who you were going to pick.

"i think i see someone, is that-- is that michael jackson?" as soon as you uttered his first name, the crowd erupted in applause and laughter and utter joy. 

the strobe light, right on time, shined on his face for a quick moment and you see michael smiling deeply, looking down on the floor. 

the truth was that he was enamored by you. completely and utterly enamored.

you guys have only met in passing, at award shows or other industry events. you always greeted him with that wild and crooked smile that he couldn't stop thinking about. everytime he got the chance to be near you, he only had about 30 seconds before you were dragged away by your team as you apologetically yelled empty promises of working together over your shoulder. because the industry is the industry, he’s heard that you and your boyfriend are not exactly the happiest couple. and it angered him, because he knew you could be treated way better.

"come dance with me, mike!" 

while it was hard to see him in the darkness, you could make out his hands coming up to his face, trying his best to shield his flushness. he jogged up the steps anyway, gave you a side hug, and waved at the other members. well, everyone except your boyfriend, he doesn't so much as look his way.

"you know this part, mike? or you need me to teach you?" you tilted the mic towards him.

"i think i got it."

your eyebrows perk up in amusement. you turn to the crowd, who were equally amused, with a smirk on your face.

"ohhhh okay. he's confident, i like that. what makes you think you know my dance, mike?"

"well i watch you do it all the time, girl!" the crowd was a mix of ooohs and laughter at his response.

"you think you can do it better than me?" you teased. this time, instead of leaning in to answer, michael grabbed the mic, looking you dead in the eye before replying, "i know i can."

"come on, then!"

as soon as you signaled the drummer to drop the beat, you, michael, and your bandmates began your iconic dance break. and just like that, the mere movements you created in your bedroom became instantly refined through michael. it was like he transformed into a whole other person while on that stage, looking out into the crowd with a smile that could melt the building. 

you both looked at each other with wide smiles, still dancing, until he took the mic from you, and ultimately your song. 

"upside downnnn!" he adlibbed as he pranced around the stage. you couldn't help but laugh. the shock on your face amused michael. it fueled him. he couldn't believe he was up here with you, reunited again. at one point during his little takeover, he mocked your infamous expressions, and even your voice. you laughed even harder. but in the moment you didn't realize that it meant he was studying you. and he did.

he loved how theatrical you were. he watched your content footage over and over again, excited at the way your strutted confidently across the stage. the way your hard work showed in the sweat glistening around your neck. the way you smiled and interacted with the audience. although he was your peer, he was also a student of you. and all he wanted to do was study the hell out of you. 

he took your hand, spun you around, and dipped you. while your ears were flooded with the crowd's hysteria, but you couldn't help but hear the bass guitar leave the song for a moment, as if someone stopped playing it. you turned your head to see your boyfriend with a stern look on his face, eyebrows furrowed. his fingers were nowhere near his guitar. you looked away, hiding a smirk from your obviously jealous boyfriend. why not lean into it a bit?

you stood upright and began to roll your body against michael, hips swaying to the beat. he quickly followed suit, putting his hands on your waist, his slender body rolling with you. for a moment you felt like you and him were in the dim corner of the dance floor as opposed to being brightly lit up onstage. you got lost in the feeling of his body heat against you, his shallow breath on you. but a moment of shyness overcame you, and so you playfully pushed michael away, and he reluctantly let go.

you gestured for him to give you back the mic. he did so immediately. you grabbed his left hand and raised it in the air.

"give it up for michael everybody!!" the crowd erupted again. "done stole my damn song," he laughed heartily at your mock irritation. 

still holding your hand, he bought it to his lips and kissed it, staring at you. 

this sent sparks all through your body. a feeling that reminded you of how you felt when you first met your boyfriend. a feeling you haven't felt since the first time you met your boyfriend. 

. . . 

it was moments after you performed onstage. you were splayed out on the couch, wiping away your sweat with a towel. there was a wide grin on your face as you mindlessly strummed your guitar, replaying those moments between you and michael on stage, dancing carefree. you thought about the sparks you felt when he kissed you and how you'd give anything to feel that again.

your boyfriend walked in, drenched in sweat. his bass guitar was still draped around his body. for once, the indifference on his face was replaced by something else: frustration. jealousy even. that was your cue to get up, kiss his cheek, and quell his growing temper. 

"that was good wasn't it, baby?" you asked as your hands drape around his neck. you’re doing all you can to keep him at bay, as you were too tired for another argument about the missteps or the lights being too bright, or some other excuse to hide his overall bubbling resentment for you. 

he kissed his teeth and smirked, irritated. "what was? the performance or michael coming on stage and kissing up on you?"

your smile dimmed.  "it wasn't nothin'. you ain’t jealous are you?"

your boyfriend squinted at you in what seemed like annoyance. he stepped closer to you. 

"is it something i need to be jealous about?" he leaned forward and planted a kiss on your neck, and another, before you pushed him away. whatever he was trying to do wasn't working. you found a new high. 

“you know that’s real hypocritical,” you say, before plopping back down on the couch. 

“oh yeah? write another song about it then for all I care.” he leaves, and with him, all the words you wanted to say to him. unfortunately, there was some truth to his words, because all you want to do in that moment, besides dance with michael, was write a song about it. 

shortly, you hear a knock on the already opened door. you look up to see the same shimmering tuxedo that was onstage with you. the darkness of the venue did not do michael justice. the harsh green room lighting didn’t either, but at least you could see every last detail of him. you smiled at him. that wild and crooked smile that he dreamt of seeing again. seeing it twice in one night was a miracle, he thought.

“hey, there.”

“hey, mike.” you laughed. "are you even okay with me calling you that?"

“sure. I mean, you can call me anything you’d like.” he laughed. what he said made you freeze a little, but you quickly recovered, grinning to yourself.

“did you wanna sit down or something?”

“no, no, i, uh… well i’d love to, don’t get me wrong. but everyone I came with is about to leave.”

you rose from the couch. “you did great tonight, thanks for coming up and helping me.”  

“anytime, really.”

he stepped a bit closer to you, and your breath got stuck somewhere in your throat. not only was his cologne attacking your senses, you were close enough to feel his minty breath on your lips. 

“they’re probably looking for me right now.” he laughed, his breath again reaching your lips and sending a shock down your body. “i, uh, just wanted to tell you that i had a good time, and was wondering when i’d be able to see you again?” 

“see me again?” you repeated, kind of shocked by his directness.

but he quickly added, “to make some music?” 

“right. i hope you’re not hitting on me, mikey. i’m in a relationship, you know.” you playfully shoved him, but he caught your hand and pulled you as close as possible.

“a happy one?” he smirked, before planting a quick peck on your cheek and walking away. "hope i see you soon."

before that moment, you were convinced that nobody could make you feel the way your boyfriend did.

until tonight.