Taylor Swift x Reader Imagines(GxG)

Pregnancy (angst/mother imagine)

TW: young pregnancy, vomiting
Taylor is 38
Gracie is 23
Y/N is 19

____________________
Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

The words slipped from my lips in a whisper, but they felt deafening. My hands trembled as I stared at the positive test, my vision blurring with tears. My breath hitched, panic clawing at my throat. 

With shaky fingers, I fumbled for my phone, barely able to type in Gracie’s number. The ringing felt endless. 

Please pick up. Please, please, please.

Finally— 

"Hey, Y/N! What's up?" 

Her voice was light, unaware that my world had just shattered. A sob choked out of me, and I gripped the test tighter. 

"C-can you come over?" My voice broke. 

Gracie hesitated. "What happened?" Her concern only made my tears fall faster. 

"J-just come, please." 

A pause. Then— 

"I'm on my way." 

The call ended, and I was left alone with the weight of what came next. 

--- 

I met Gracie through my mom—she opened for her tour, and we first met in the VIP tent. She’s four years older than me, but that never mattered. 

What mattered was how she made me feel—like I was standing on the edge of something vast, terrifying. Like I could fall forever. Her laugh, her voice, the way her eyes crinkled when she smiled—it all unraveled me until I was nothing but aching love wrapped in trembling skin. 

And to her, I was just her best friend—the one she trusted, the one she confided in—never realizing that every touch, every smile, was breaking me apart. 

--- 

The doorbell rang. 

I barely registered moving, my body numb yet shaking as I flung the door open. The moment I saw her, concern etched into her beautiful face, something inside me shattered. I didn’t hesitate—I threw myself into her arms. 

"I-I made a mistake," I sobbed, gripping onto her like she was the only thing keeping me afloat. 

"Hey, hey, it’s okay, darling," she murmured, holding me tighter. She lifted me effortlessly, and I instinctively wrapped my legs around her waist, burying my face in her neck. 

She carried me to my room, laying me down with unbearable gentleness before climbing in beside me. She wiped my tears, her touch soft, patient. 

"Now, tell me what happened." 

I sucked in a shaky breath. "I—I’m pregnant." The words felt foreign on my tongue, and as soon as they left my lips, I broke down again. 

Gracie pulled me onto her lap, rocking me slightly. "Oh, sweetheart…" she whispered, pressing a kiss to my hair. "You’re not alone. We’ll figure this out." 

She hesitated before asking, "Who’s the father?" 

I swallowed the lump in my throat. "It doesn’t matter. We broke up." 

Gracie tensed for just a second, then tightened her hold on me. "Oh, baby…" she murmured. "I’m so sorry." 

She held me like she could absorb my pain, whispering soft reassurances. "I’m here. I’m not going anywhere." 

My fingers curled more and more into her shirt. 

"Gracie…" My voice was barely a whisper. 

She hummed, brushing her fingers through my hair. "Yeah, darling?"