Trapped in Black Butler || Sebastian X Reader

I

You could have sworn your bed wasn't hard and stiff and that you had fallen asleep in the comfortable silence of your bedroom. Were that the case, why did it feel like the exact opposite? Your bed felt like the hard, abrasive cobblestone streets you used to scrape your knees on as a kid and you were cold, freezing even. As much as you would have liked to ignore that in favor of a few extra minutes comatose, what you couldn't ignore was the hustle and bustle going on around you. Quarantine was still in effect, you should not have been able to hear footsteps near your head, let alone feel the weak kick of what you guessed was a child.

You opened your eyes in a sudden jolt of pain, coming face to wall with the exterior of what looked like an old English bakery. You were definitely taken aback but you turned your torso in favor of telling off whoever just assaulted you.

Your eyes came to a stop on a little soot covered, dirty blonde child. You were confused, the child definitely did not look like one of the pampered little booger eaters that normally ran around where you lived, he was covered head to toe in dirt and ash and even stranger were his clothes. It was like you had woken up on the set of some 1800s old English show and the little boy was a disgruntled, extra in commoner's attire.

Your confusion remained as you scanned your new surroundings, not only the child but the majority of the people who were walking around had the same dirty, old look about them. You sat there, stunned, not even bothering to question outwardly where you were, sure you wouldn't like the answer.

A high pitched and aged-beyond-its-years voice cut through your daze, "Oi, move it! Y'can't just be layin' about in front'a people's shops, y'hear? The ol' man in th'bakery hired me ta' get rid o' you lot! Says y'make the business bad." You turned your gaze back to the little boy you suspected was the one who kicked you awake. His chest was puffed and his hands were on his hips, you assumed in an attempt to look tough. You were having none of it.

"Who do you think you are, you little gremlin? Didn't your parents ever teach you some common human decency?" you scoffed, grumpy and offended, "There's absolutely no need to boot someone in the back, why didn't you try to wake me up with your words you cockroach? Where are your parents? Shouldn't they know not to let their kid run off on their own? And in a pandemic no less, I don't want your grubby little germs!" You stood up, utilizing your superior height to intimidate, "Where am I anyway?" The question appeared to fall on deaf ears as the little boy stared at you puzzled.

"You don't talk like y'from 'round' ere." He paused, looking down at his feet with a little hand coming up to his chin in thought, "What's a gremlin?" he questioned, mostly to himself.

You were, for lack of an old English word, shook. Maybe flabbergasted would suit? Whatever, you didn't have time to question what word you would use to describe your feeling towards the situation. You snapped your fingers in an attempt to grab the child's attention, "Hey, kid, mind answering my question? Where am I?"

He looked back up at you, a look of annoyance painting his dirt covered features, "Y'in front'a th'bakery ya idgit!"

You sighed, a look of incredulous anger on your face, "I've gathered that, I meant where am I as in what city am I in? How did I get here? And why do you look like a character straight out of an eighteen hundreds movie?" you finished, looking down and noticing that you too looked like you were cosplaying some poor little English child.

Before you could ask more, the kid replied, "Yer' in London, an' how am I s'pose t'know how y'got 'ere? An' I 'unno what a movie is but I look like this 'cause it is th' eighteen hundreds!" you stared at the child shocked, there was no way this runt was so good at acting that he could keep up his character when he was not on camera. Against all your reasoning, you actually started to believe him and believe you had woken up in the past.