In Her Eras Era Pt. 2

The energy in the stadium was electric, a sea of lights and sound as the crowd sang along to Taylor Swift’s biggest hits. You and Marcus were in your own little world in the private box, your voices merging with the crowd’s as you belted out the lyrics to songs you knew, while laughing and chatting during the songs you didn’t. The two of you had a couple of drinks in hand, the soft glow of the box’s lights casting a warm hue over their faces.

You found yourself swaying to the beat, Luna's confidence peaking as she let loose, really getting into the vibe of the concert. You turned to Marcus, grinning wide, her cheeks flushed from both the **** and the energy of the moment. “Okay, I admit it,” she laughed, raising her glass to him. “I might just become a Swiftie after this. It’s, like, impossible not to feel this energy.”

Marcus raised his glass with a smirk, leaning closer so she could hear him over the music. “Told you,” he replied, his eyes gleaming. “It’s legendary. Plus,” he added, nudging her playfully, “best company to watch it with.”

Luna rolled her eyes but couldn’t help smiling, feeling her heart flutter a little. “You’re really milking this flattery thing, aren’t you?” she teased, lifting an eyebrow.

“Hey, when it’s true, it’s true,” he shrugged, his grin only widening. They clinked their glasses again, and she took a long sip, letting the warmth settle in her.

Just then, a cooler breeze drifted into the box, and Luna shivered, hugging her arms around herself with a little pout. She hadn’t planned for the November chill in a dress and felt her shoulders and legs prickling in the cold. “Okay, so maybe a dress wasn’t the brightest idea tonight,” she admitted with a small, sheepish laugh.

Marcus glanced over, raising an eyebrow. “Cold already?” He looked at her, then down at her bare legs. “Well, maybe you should’ve worn stockings,” he said with a mischievous grin, leaning back to get a good look at her outfit.

“Oh, stockings?” you repeated, feigning surprise as you looked at him, your lips curving into a teasing smile. “What, did you want to see me in stockings, Marcus?” Your voice was playful, with a hint of flirtation in your tone.

He chuckled, not backing down from her teasing. “Hey, I’m just saying you’d look pretty damn good in them,” he replied smoothly, his gaze holding hers, playful but with a spark that felt electric. “You’re the one who chose the dress. Just trying to give you some… practical advice.”

You laughed, biting your lip as you looked up at him. “Oh, so that’s what you’re calling it? Practical advice?”

“Absolutely.” He gave you a once-over, shaking his head with a grin. “Though, I think you’d pull off pretty much anything, so you’re already winning in my book.”

Luna rolled her eyes, but a warm blush crept up her cheeks as she pulled her dress’s hem down slightly, feigning modesty. “Well, if I freeze, I guess I’ll know who to blame,” she replied, giving him a sly wink.

As the next song started, you both joined in on the chorus, laughing as you leaned into each other, both of you just a little tipsy and wholly lost in the moment. Marcus’s arm found its way around your shoulders, his fingers brushing lightly against your arm, sending a warm shiver down your spine. She leaned into him, your head tilting slightly to rest against his shoulder as you swayed along with the music, feeling completely wrapped up in the atmosphere.

In the safety and seclusion of the private box, the outside world felt far away, and it was like there was only the two of them, a hidden little haven where they could laugh, flirt, and enjoy the night. Luna was barely aware of how naturally she was flirting with Marcus now, as though it were second nature, like every glance and every touch was an effortless part of the game they were playing.

After a while, Marcus turned to her, his gaze softening as he took her in, his voice quieter. “You’re having fun, right?”

She looked up at him, her expression warm and genuine. “Yeah, I am. I really, really am.” She paused, searching his face. “Thanks for this, Marcus.”

He nodded, a hint of seriousness in his gaze as he replied. “You know, it’s actually nice to be with someone who isn’t caught up in all the Hollywood drama. Just feels… real.” He tilted his head slightly, his gaze dropping to her lips for just a moment before he caught himself.

You fell into a comfortable silence, both of you looking out over the stadium as the next song began. But the tension lingered in the air, an undeniable chemistry that seemed to simmer just beneath the surface. Every brush of his arm against yours felt charged, every look held a flicker of something more.

After a beat, Luna looked back at him, a smirk on her lips. “So, what’s the verdict?” she asked, tilting her head. “Are you a fan of Taylor Swift yet?”

Marcus laughed, shaking his head. “Not sure I’d go that far,” he admitted, grinning. “But I’d say tonight’s… one for the books.”

You stayed there, cozy and close, as the concert continued, each song only drawing them a little closer, until the world outside the box seemed to fade away entirely.

As the night carries on, the laughter, drinks, and music seem to blend together in a blur of pure exhilaration. You and Marcus settle into a comfortable rhythm, trading teasing comments and singing along to Taylor’s biggest anthems. With every passing song, it’s like the energy in the box wraps around you both, turning every moment a little more intimate, a little more electric.

With each drink, the edges of your inhibitions seem to blur, and you find yourself leaning further into Marcus, matching his relaxed and carefree vibe. You laugh at his exaggerated dance moves, join him for a dramatic sing-along, and even give a little twirl when he insists on seeing you “properly in that dress.” He’s charming in a way that you hadn’t quite expected, and there’s a warmth in his eyes each time he looks over at you that you can’t help but feel a little drawn to.

Eventually, a soft, romantic song begins, its familiar melody drifting through the box and settling over you both like a blanket. It’s Lover, one of Taylor’s most swoon-worthy tracks, and the atmosphere shifts into something gentler, quieter. You glance at Marcus, unsure if he’s noticed the change in the music, but he’s already looking at you, a small, almost shy smile tugging at his lips.

The slow rhythm of the song pulls you closer together, almost as if it’s orchestrating this moment. He takes a step toward you, and before you fully realize it, you’re leaning into him, shoulders touching, your bodies close enough that you can feel the warmth radiating off him. A slight tension fills the air as you both hesitate, each uncertain if you’re both thinking the same thing, but the allure of the music and the drinks make you bold. Before you know it, he tilts his head, and your lips meet.

It’s soft at first, tentative, like both of you are testing the waters, but as his hand moves to rest gently on your waist, the kiss deepens. You feel a slight shift in his posture as he pulls you in closer, his fingers pressing gently against your side. You lean into the kiss, your heart racing faster, both surprised and... well, you can’t lie—half grossed out, since you’re still very aware that it’s Marcus, and he’s a guy. Yet, on the other hand, there’s that satisfying part of your mind that knows you’re nailing this trial. You can practically feel the progress bar ticking up as his arms wrap around you.

The kiss intensifies, becoming something more passionate as his hand moves up your back, resting at the base of your neck, his thumb brushing your jaw. For a brief moment, you forget about the mechanics of the trial, caught up in the warm press of his lips, the slight roughness of his stubble, and the way he seems so utterly focused on you. He pulls away for just a second to look into your eyes, his breath a little shaky, and then he’s back, kissing you harder, with more intent, as though he’s been holding himself back all night and can’t resist anymore.

You let yourself sink into the kiss, feeling his hand slide up to gently hold the back of your neck, his thumb brushing your skin. There's something undeniably romantic in this moment, set to the soft lyrics of Lover and the way he’s looking at you like you’re the only person in the stadium. It’s enough to make you lose yourself, even just for a few minutes. The sensation is new, strange, and a little bewildering, and Luna is enjoying herself. You want to pull back, but then you remind yourself that this is exactly what you came here for, the trial, and you lean into the spell’s influence, letting Luna guide you.

Finally, the two of you pull apart, breathless. Marcus looks at you with a smile, a warmth in his eyes that’s impossible to ignore. There’s a light flush to his cheeks, and he takes a moment before finally speaking.

“Wow,” he says, a little breathless, running a hand through his hair. “That... wasn’t on the agenda, was it?”

You laugh softly, still catching your breath, but managing to respond in Luna’s playful tone. “Guess we improvised a bit,” you say, meeting his gaze with a smile. He chuckles, and you both turn back toward the view of the stadium, the energy between you two now charged in a way that wasn’t there before.

The night stretches on, but that one kiss seems to linger, adding a whole new layer to the game you're playing.

The music rages around you, the bass thumping through your chest as you stand in the private box at the Rogers Centre. You’re surrounded by lights, bodies moving, and a sea of voices singing along, but right now, it’s just you and Marcus.

There’s something intoxicating about the way the night has unfolded. The **** flows freely, the buzz settling into your veins, making everything seem brighter, sharper, more vivid. Your vision blurs slightly, but it's not the ****—no, it’s Luna taking over again, settling deeper into your thoughts, her presence in your mind undeniable. You can’t push her out anymore. She’s too strong. Too confident.

Her thoughts begin to pulse through you like a steady beat, her desires clouding your own. You feel the shift, the way your body moves—your body, but not really yours anymore. Your fingers graze Marcus’s arm as you shift closer, feeling the heat of his skin against yours. You can hear her thoughts as clearly as if she’s whispering in your ear.

He’s so close, feels so good to be close to him. Everything’s so warm. Just a little bit more, and I’ll have him right where I want him.

You can’t help but feel a knot tighten in your stomach. You’re still there, just... watching. Gross, you think, but the disgust mingles with something else—something darker, more primal. But this is the plan. It’s working.

As Marcus leans in, brushing his lips against your ear, a shiver runs down your spine. His scent fills your senses, his warm breath sending an unexpected thrill through your body. You watch, unable to stop it, as Luna turns her head to meet his lips with yours. Your mouth opens in response, but it’s not you who’s driving this kiss. It’s all her. She wants this. She needs this.

Her tongue brushes against Marcus’s, and you can feel every movement, every flicker of heat and desire that ignites between you both. But it’s not you who’s in control anymore. You’re just an observer in your own body. A witness to the way you move, the way you kiss.

This is what I want. He's mine now, she thinks, a sense of ownership in her thoughts that’s almost too much to bear. But you—your mind—can only watch.

His hands are on your back now, pulling you closer, and Luna doesn’t hesitate. She shifts, guiding his hand lower, pressing herself against him, feeling the heat of his body seeping into yours. There’s nothing shy about her, nothing timid. She knows what she’s doing. She wants him.

I want him to touch me, to feel every inch of me. I want him to know what he’s about to get into. Her thoughts are sharp, focused, and completely hers. You can feel the conflict inside you—the part of you recoiling in disgust, but the other part of you, the part that’s been swallowed by Luna, thrilled at every second of it. She’s getting closer to the goal, closer to completing the trial. The tension between you and Marcus is palpable.

He pulls away just enough to look at you, his eyes dark with desire. You’re lost in him now, completely immersed in the moment. But you—you are still there, watching, feeling a strange mix of revulsion and excitement.

I can’t stop. I don’t want to stop.

You’re barely aware of Marcus pulling you closer again, his lips finding your neck, trailing kisses that send sparks flying under your skin. Every kiss, every touch feels like it’s amplifying the fire inside you. Inside her. But you’re not in control of it.

It’s happening. Just a little longer, she thinks, a wicked smile curving her lips as she pulls Marcus’s face back to yours, kissing him harder, more urgently. The part of you that still feels repulsed tries to push through, but it’s futile. Her desires, her needs, they’re winning. It’s happening. You’re losing yourself, piece by piece. And even though a part of you still feels disgusted—kissing a man, becoming someone else—you know one thing for sure.

The trial is almost over.