IS LOVING HER A SIN? (Fem X fem reader) LGBTQ+ story

Chapter 1: Moving

Chapter 1: moving

"Fuck my life," I muttered under my breath, scanning my room frantically. My heart raced, my pulse pounding in my ears as the realization hit me—my diary was gone. It wasn't under my bed or in its usual spot. My parents are assholes. They're homophobic and they don't even know it yet. I've never come out to them, not even once. I can't let this get out. My head started spinning. Where is it? Where the hell is it?!

Just as panic fully settled in, I heard footsteps. I looked up, and there she was—my mother. I didn't even need to guess what she was holding. My stomach twisted into a tight knot. She stood there, with that expression she always had when she was about to unleash hell, and in her hand—my diary.

"Mom... we can talk about this. Just... hand me the diary," I said, forcing my voice to remain calm, though my hands trembled as I motioned for her to give it back.

She didn't move. Her eyes bore into mine with an intensity I hadn't seen before. "Olivia... what the fuck is this all about?" Her voice was cold as she flipped through the pages, her expression growing harder as she skimmed through the most private confessions of my life. The entries about her, about my fears, about my love—for a girl.

"It's that girl from church, isn't it?" The disgust in her voice was palpable.

I sighed, my chest tightening. "Well, what do you think? You think I asked to be this way?" The words came out sharper than I meant, but I was suffocating under the weight of her judgment.

My mother stared at me, dead in the eyes, her face set in stone, her tone even colder than before. "You. You disgust me. Get out. I never want to see you again."

Her words hit like a punch to the gut. My vision blurred with hot tears, but I held my ground, my body trembling with anger and heartbreak. "Fine! Who the fuck would want to be in this shithole anyway? I don't think anyone would!" I spat, storming out of the room, my heart pounding in my chest as I left behind what little family I had left.

Hi, my name's Olivia, and I'm just your average 16-year-old girl. I go to school, get good grades, and pretend to believe in religion because, honestly, that's all I've ever been allowed to do. If I didn't, I'd be a disappointment. The pressure to fit in, to follow the rules—it's suffocating. But the truth is, I don't believe in it, not the way they want me to. Sure, I believe there's a God, but sometimes, I find myself sympathizing with the fallen angel.

In some ways, I feel like Lucifer and I share a lot in common. We both loved God once, right? Innocent, oblivious to how the world would treat us, how cruel it could be. Like me, he didn't ask to be cast out, just like I didn't ask to be this way. I never asked to like girls. I don't want to see my straight friends and feel that stab of jealousy every time they talk about some guy. I want to be "normal," like them. I want to be able to like boys, to go on dates, to gush over crushes, but no matter how hard I try, it just doesn't feel right.

Boys with their messy hair, their egos—it's all meaningless to me. I like girls. That's the truth. But in a world like this, I can't show it. I can't let anyone know. I've tried confessing my feelings before—to straight girls—and it always ends the same. Either they look at me like I'm disgusting, or they lead me on, playing with my feelings until they find the "guy of their dreams." And I'm just... there. A stepping stone.

I've accepted it. I like women. I'm not ashamed of that, but I have to hide it, and that's the part that kills me. In a world like this, where discrimination and oppression are still so strong, I have to keep this part of me buried deep inside.

I get it—I'm privileged in a lot of ways. I'm white, I go to school, and I have opportunities that many don't because of the color of their skin. I acknowledge that. And while I have that privilege, I want to stand up for what's right. No one deserves to be judged for their skin color, their sexuality, their gender—we're all human, and we all bleed the same.

But saying that out loud? No. In a world like this, it's not that simple. So, I'll say it here instead, in these pages. This is my story.