Taylor Swift x Reader Imagines(GxG)

Bully Pt. 2

The morning sunlight filtered through the curtains, casting a soft glow over the room. My eyes fluttered open to the feeling of warmth beside me. Taylor was still asleep, her blonde hair splayed out across my pillow, her face peaceful in the dim light. For a moment, I just watched her, taking in the way her lashes fanned over her cheeks, the way her lips parted slightly with each steady breath.

Then it hit me—Taylor Swift had slept over. In my bed. After kissing me senseless.

My heart pounded in my chest as the reality of it all settled in. This wasn’t a dream.

I shifted slightly, trying not to wake her, but the movement caused her to stir. Her brows furrowed for a second before her eyes slowly blinked open. When she saw me, a sleepy, almost shy smile played on her lips.

“Morning,” she murmured, her voice husky from sleep.

“Morning,” I whispered back, my fingers instinctively brushing a strand of hair from her face.

She leaned into my touch, closing her eyes for a brief moment before letting out a small sigh. “So, last night happened.”

“Yeah,” I said, biting my lip. “It really did.”

Taylor stretched, her body pressing against mine for a brief second before she sat up. “We should probably get ready for school.”

I groaned, flopping back onto the bed. “Or we could just skip and stay here all day.”

She chuckled, playfully nudging my side. “Tempting. But if we show up together, holding hands, it’s gonna send the whole school into shock.”

I rolled my eyes but couldn’t hide my grin. “Oh yeah, because us beating the crap out of each other yesterday wasn’t enough?”

Taylor smirked. “Exactly. Now, come on. I wanna see their faces when we walk in.”

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By the time we arrived at school, hand in hand, the hallway was already buzzing with students. As we stepped inside, a collective silence fell over the crowd.

Every pair of eyes locked onto us. Whispers spread like wildfire. Some people gasped, others nudged their friends in shock. The same people who had cheered during our fight now gawked as Taylor Swift—the girl who had pinned me to the lockers, the girl who had called me a bitch before lunging at me—walked beside me like we hadn’t nearly killed each other twenty-four hours ago.

My grip on her hand tightened slightly, a flicker of nervousness settling in my stomach. But Taylor? She walked like she owned the place, like she hadn’t just shattered every expectation and rewrote the narrative.

Then, we reached her friends—Blake Lively, Gracie Abrams, and Gigi Hadid. The three of them stood together near Taylor’s locker, their expressions shifting the second they saw us.

Blake raised an eyebrow, arms crossing. “Well, well. If it isn’t last night’s entertainment.”

Gracie frowned, her eyes narrowing slightly as she glanced at our linked hands. “This has to be a joke.”

Gigi smirked, looking me up and down before scoffing. “Taylor, seriously? Of all people?”

I tensed, waiting for Taylor to let go of my hand—to laugh it off, to dismiss me, to pretend like this was nothing. But she didn’t.

Instead, she stepped forward, her tone sharp as she said, “Yeah. Seriously.”

The air between them shifted. Blake, Gracie, and Gigi exchanged glances before looking back at Taylor, who was staring them down like a challenge.