Flattery (Herobrine x Reader)

Part 1

(Hey... um. This is going to be new for me. I hope you enjoy. Y/n means you by the way.) 

"Y/n! Come downstairs already! What are you even doing up there?!" Your mother shouted up the stairs at you. You jump awake. Crap! You had slept in again! 

You jump up out of your small bed and hurry around the attic, which you call your room. You run around everywhere, quickly getting dressed and brushing your h/l, h/c hair. Only a few minutes are up when you open the door to your room and crawl down the now too small stairs that had been made so long ago, downstairs into the cleaning quarters. 

Once in the large kitchen, which you manage all by yourself, you begin quickly tidying up little things here and there so when she comes in, you aren't called a complete slob. Your mother, isn't exactly your mother. She is more like a distant aunt who only wants you calling her mother for the sake of whatever nonsense goes on in her head! 

"Y/n! You better have cleaned those floors! They were a complete mess last time I-" Your mother bargs in, fairing in rage until she sees you are already working on sweeping the floors. Without anything to say, the woman snorts. "My gosh, put your hair up or something, young lady! It looks like a rats nest down!" Were her final words before she stormed out, leaving you to do as she said. She was right, your hair always did get tangled so easily, no matter the length. You do your best to fix it, combing your hands through and tying it up. 

"Y/n! I need my breakfast!" The young voice of a snobby, overweight boy shouts from outside the kitchen as he pushes himself in. His hair is blond and well combed. It is also greased so it stays that way, almost making it look fake. 

"Just a second." Are your first quiet words of the day. 

"No! You don't understand! I don't have a second! I am starving! I could die of hunger at this rate!" He stomps his foot, but still leaves the room. You huff, re tightening your hair, which is having a hard time staying up, and pull out some flour and dough you had prepared yesterday. You walk over to one of the two large islands of the kitchen and sprinkle a section with flour, before plopping the dough on it and rolling it around with your hands. Once flour is nicely around it, you use a large rolling pin to make it flat. Once you have something about the size of a thin pizza, you quickly scramble some eggs, mix some meat in there, sprinkle in some cheese, and put all that on the rolled dough. Next up you just roll all that up and cut it like a carrot several times. After that, you put it in the old oven and wait as it cooks. That is the simple meal you have resorted to in the past for times like these. When no one seems to be patient with you, which is why they get this meal almost every morning. 

"Y/n!" "Y/n!!" "We want something different for breakfast this morning!" "Yeah! We are sick of those egg rolls!" The two other teenage girls, both somehow exactly your age though completely different lives, push in through the doors when they smell the same thing as always cooking over the fire. You groan, walking over to the fridge and making a big show of it. You open up the cooler with an exaggerated unenthusiastic attitude, and pull out some milk. You also quickly pull out some cereal, a spoon, and pour a bowl in front of it, making sure to glare at the two the entire time, making your motions very exaggerated to get across the point that you were tired. After the milk is poured, you just stare at the two with arms crossed, an attitude showing up on your face. Out of everyone here, you know these two were the easiest to push back, especially since it was their little brother who was the baby of the family and not them. 

One of the two girls, Andie, walked up closer, looking genuinely interested in the cereal. She looks directly into the bowl, before quickly smacking it off the counter, sending it right at you. Soon enough your hair and outfit alike are soggy with milk, and the cereal sticks to you as if glued on. Andie rushes back to her twin, Polly, and the two suffer through a painfully loud laughing fit. You growl, but know better than to shout. Quietly, you just leave. You weren't able to get everything cleaned up, but eventually you come back when you know breakfast should be done baking now. Thankfully it is. You serve it up to everyone once again. None of them pleased by it. The little 11 year old boy, Coby, is just flat out angry that he has to eat any more eggs, and pretends he is going to just ignore it completely when you deliver it to his room. The two girls throw a shoe at you once you enter, knocking the tray out of your hands. You decide to just not care and leave that dish on the floor for them to throw away themselves. The rule is that they are responsible for any messes in their room, so everything else is your problem. And your distant aunt or something just makes a salty remark on your battered clothes, though she won't buy you any new ones, and your lack in creativity when it comes to anything, especially cooking. Like always, you can do nothing but shrug it off and go outside to take care of the animals. 

Little did you know that your simple life would soon be changed forever. For the better. 

(I hope you enjoyed this first chapter. No deletes. 2/10/2020)