A Greater Power (Kaz x Fem!Reader x Oliver)

Introduction

You walk into your house and see your mother on the couch. Fucking shit.

"Where the hell were you, Y/N?" she whispers, deadly quiet. You internally groan, knowing what's coming.

"I was just at school. Jason ga-" You were interrupted. What else is new?

"You lying bitch!" She responds. "You expect me to believe that a boy would want to talk to you?" You stare at her wearily. Same shit every day. At least come up with something new, bitch.

You know you're pretty, despite the constant degradation from your mother. You've rejected many guys from your school, not taking an interest in dating. No one could seem to keep you interested. You aren't popular, but rather a pretty outcast. It surprised you that anyone had taken an interest in you. You never put on makeup, and it was a miracle if you could scrounge up something to wear that isn't a hoodie and a pair of sweats. You preferred to be an outcast. At least that way, where no one could bother you.

"Say something, or are you deaf too, you little ingrate?"

"As I was saying, Jason gave me a ride." You respond, trying to wrap up this conversation. 

You know how this situation is but can never seem to work up the nerve to leave. As soon as you talk yourself into leaving, you realize that going on the lamb means you need money. The one item you never seem to have. You would say it's a miracle that you still have a house, but that is your own doing.

You have this ability that you were born with. A few, actually. Telekinesis, telepathy, and an eidetic memory. You don't like your telepathy. It's unnerving that you can force others to do things, say things, and think things. That power freaks you out, so you never use it. You make an exception for two things: the rent and bullies. 

You never stopped them from whaling on you, but on the poor geek or the not-so-smart nerd. While that may sound dumb, you lived by a code. You were given powers, whether at birth or after, you've never known. But you swore to yourself that these gifts you had received were never to be used for your own gain. That was a rule you made when you were 7, and you've lived by it since then.

Sure, there are rare occasions where a bully is suddenly hit on the head with a book. You hated it when you lost control. You never knew if you would suddenly hurt an innocent bystander or force someone to do something bad. 

Your eidetic memory, however, has been a godsend, especially during exams.

"Did you make any money?" Your mother asks. "God knows that if you're gonna be a slut, at least charge by the hour." 

She was a clever one, that's for sure. She was always careful not to speak loud enough to be heard by the neighbors. 

As sad as it is, you've gotten used to this treatment from your mother. You remember the first time she's said something like this to you. You were nine at the time, and you had just come back from (B/F/N)'s house, and your mother had her fake smile on. Your mother's smile that day had given you chills. As soon as you were in the house, she had gone off. You never knew what had changed in the few hours you had been at your best friend's house, but she wasn't the same after that. 

Mother had told you that your father had left when you were four, and you knew she loved him dearly. His departure had left a hole in her heart. The next day, all his pictures were gone. It seemed that 5 years later, she had started blaming you. You could never quite understand what caused her to make such a sudden jump that evening. 

"I'm not a slut." You stare into her dark brown eyes. Sometimes you wish you had the nerve to leave. 

"What do you call that time I walked in on you flirting with that Tony boy?"

"I call that studying. I asked him to pass me my notes."

"Go to your room, you insolent little shrew!" That's a new one. You stalk up the stairs, pissed. 

You decide to leave when school ends, in three months.

Just three more months, then you will be free, you think to yourself. Only three months left, then you can leave.