Through the Screen - A Sebastian Michaelis x Reader Story || Part 1
The dim glow of your computer screen was the only light in your room, casting eerie shadows against the walls. You had been binge-watching Black Butler for hours now, utterly engrossed in the story of Ciel Phantomhive and his ever-faithful butler, Sebastian Michaelis. There was something mesmerizing about the way Sebastian moved—his flawless precision, his silken voice, and the ever-present, knowing smirk.
But tonight… something felt off.
You leaned forward, eyes narrowing as you watched the latest episode. It wasn’t anything overt, just a strange, creeping sensation that sent shivers down your spine. Every time Sebastian appeared on screen, it felt as though his crimson eyes were locked directly onto yours. You knew it was impossible—just a trick of the animation, maybe a coincidence—but still, it unsettled you.
Then, it happened.
Sebastian, in the middle of an elegant bow before Ciel, turned his head just slightly—and for the briefest moment, his gaze wasn’t directed at the young earl.
It was aimed at you.
Your breath hitched. No. That was ridiculous. It had to be your imagination. Right?
You shook your head, deciding it was time for a break. Maybe I need some water, you thought, standing up and stretching. The air in your room felt unnaturally still, and for the first time, the glow of your screen seemed ominous rather than comforting.
As you stepped away, your PC emitted a strange, glitching noise.
You froze.
The screen flickered violently, distorting the video until all that remained was a mess of static and faint, warped audio. Your heart pounded as you turned back, confusion morphing into unease.
"What the hell…?" You whispered, slowly stepping forward.
The image shifted, pixelated shapes struggling to form something coherent. Slowly, the distortion settled, and within the static, something emerged.
A gloved hand.
Your breath caught in your throat.
It was unmistakable—the pristine, white glove of a butler.
The hand stretched forward, extending past the screen’s edges as though reaching for you.
You staggered back, but an unnatural force pulled at you, yanking you toward the screen. A rush of cold air engulfed you as your vision blurred, the glow of your room swallowed by an endless void.
You barely had time to scream before you were falling.
A New Reality
You landed with a thud against soft carpet. For a moment, the world spun, your senses overwhelmed by the scent of old books, candle wax, and something distinctly rich—like spiced tea and roses.
You groaned, pushing yourself up, your head pounding. This wasn’t your room. This wasn’t—
"Ah. What an unexpected guest."
That voice.
Your breath caught as you turned, your stomach twisting into knots.
There, standing before you, was Sebastian Michaelis.
Your mouth went dry. He was exactly as he had been on screen—tall, elegant, his dark tailcoat pristine as ever. His crimson eyes gleamed with something unreadable, his lips curved in a faint, knowing smile.
"You seem… disoriented," he observed, tilting his head ever so slightly.
You scrambled backward, your heart racing. "W-What— How—"
Sebastian took a slow, deliberate step forward, his polished shoes barely making a sound against the floor. "Hush, now," he murmured, his voice smooth as silk. "There is no need for such panic. After all, you were the one watching so intently. Did you truly believe I wouldn’t notice?"
Your stomach dropped.
He had seen you.
"You… you pulled me in," you whispered, your voice shaking.
Sebastian's smirk widened ever so slightly. "Oh? Did I? Or perhaps…" He bent down, reaching toward you. You flinched, but he merely plucked a stray thread from your sleeve, his fingers lingering just a moment too long. "Perhaps you were always meant to be here."
Your mind reeled. This was impossible. Unreal.
Yet, as Sebastian extended a hand toward you—palm up, an invitation—you realized something horrifying.
The warmth of his breath, the subtle scent of his cologne, the weight of his presence…
This was real.
And somehow, you doubted he had any intention of letting you go.
