Taylor Swift x Reader Imagines(GxG)

If not my Ex then her Mom pt. 2

The smell of coffee drifted through the kitchen, but it didn’t do much to soften the weight in the air.

I sat on the kitchen island, wearing her shirt, legs crossed, arms wrapped around myself. The morning sun lit up the marble countertops, but it felt too bright. Too honest.

Taylor moved around the kitchen with a kind of tight grace—measured, but sharp. The way she cracked the eggs, the way she dropped the spatula a little too hard—it was subtle, but I could feel it.

She was angry.

Not at me. At Callie.

She set down a plate of scrambled eggs and toast next to me, then leaned on the counter across from me, arms folded over her chest. Her hair was pulled up now, a few loose strands falling near her face, but her eyes never left mine.

“You haven’t said a word,” she said finally.

“I didn’t know what to say.”

Taylor nodded once. Then she looked away, jaw tense, like she was holding something back. I watched her for a moment, the way her fingers curled against her arms.

“You’re mad,” I said.

She let out a humorless laugh. “Mad? No. I’m furious.”

I blinked, startled by the honesty.

“I’m furious that she could look at someone like you and still throw it all away,” she said, voice low but hard. “Furious that she lied. That she played with your heart like it was some kind of game.”

I swallowed, throat dry. “You don’t have to be mad on my behalf.”

“Oh, but I am,” she snapped, then softened. “Because you didn’t deserve that. You stayed. You tried. And she didn’t just cheat—she made you question if you were enough. And that…” Her voice cracked, just slightly. “That pisses me off.”

She stepped closer, between my knees, and placed her hands on either side of me on the counter. “You are more than enough, Y/N. You always were.”

I blinked hard, trying to keep the sting behind my eyes from spilling over. “I keep thinking I’ll stop feeling it. That at some point, the hurt will just... fade.”

Taylor reached up, brushing her thumb across my cheek, even though no tears had fallen. “It will. But not all at once. Not overnight.”

She paused, eyes searching mine. “I hate that she made you feel disposable.”

“She didn’t mean to—”

“She still did,” Taylor interrupted, firm but not unkind. “Intentions don’t erase damage.”

We sat in that stillness for a long moment. Her eyes were fierce, but there was so much care behind them. So much wanting to undo what her daughter had done.

“You know what hurts the most?” I whispered. “That I still love her. Even after everything.”

Taylor’s expression softened. “That doesn’t make you weak. That makes you real.”

I looked down. “Is it wrong… to be here with you?”

Her fingers tilted my chin back up. “No,” she said, unwavering. “Because I’m not here to punish you, or to make sense of what happened. I’m here because you’re hurting, and I care about you. Because I see you.”

Her voice dropped, quieter now, but still burning with something raw. “And because my daughter didn’t know how to love you right. But I do.”

Then, as if she could feel how heavy the silence was starting to get again, she smiled—soft, a little sheepish, like the sharpness from earlier had melted into something warm.