Jun 7, 2025
៹bf!matt masterlist.
Introducing...
Headcannons.
Camera roll.
Your camera roll.
Aftercare.
Flowers.
—chrattvibe.
seen from United States
seen from Portugal
seen from Portugal
seen from Malaysia
seen from China
seen from Malaysia
seen from Malaysia
seen from Australia
seen from Portugal
seen from China
seen from South Africa
seen from United States
seen from Malaysia
seen from United Kingdom
seen from Malaysia
seen from Malaysia
seen from United States
seen from China
seen from Germany
seen from United Kingdom
៹bf!matt masterlist.
Introducing...
Headcannons.
Camera roll.
Your camera roll.
Aftercare.
Flowers.
—chrattvibe.
It’s my birthday bitches!!!! 21 Y/O!!!!
Tell No One
If yall know the movie from the picture on the right, you deserve a kiss
Part Seven - Close Enough to Burn
Something Changes
You don’t notice it at first.
Not in a loud way.
It’s in the rhythm.
The lights in your room flicker a fraction of a second too long before shifting. The tray slot doesn’t open at the exact moment it should. The hum in the ceiling—barely audible—is softer than usual.
Everything is… off by just enough to feel like the room is holding its breath.
And the mirror?
It hasn’t blinked in hours.
You sit on the edge of your bed, still holding the mask in your lap, your fingertips tracing it like a habit now. You don’t even realize you’re doing it.
Your chest feels tight.
Like you’re waiting for something you don’t remember asking for.
The Space Between
You walk to the mirror like your body’s been moving there on its own.
You rest your palm against the glass. Not to test it. Just to anchor yourself.
“You’re there,” you whisper. “Aren’t you?”
No knock. No blink.
But it feels like he’s there. Like the air on the other side is pressing against the glass, straining to reach you.
“You haven’t moved. I know you haven’t.”
You press your forehead to the mirror. Your skin is clammy. Every breath you take feels like it has to squeeze past your ribs.
“I’m here. I’ve been here. I let you in.”
Your voice cracks around it.
“And I don’t know what that makes me anymore.”
Your hand slides lower, fingers curling at the edge of the mirror’s base.
“Please. Just let me see you.”
You don’t mean the light. You don’t mean the knock.
You mean him.
The real him.
The Door
It happens so quietly, it almost doesn’t register.
A soft mechanical click. Then the gentle hiss of hydraulics releasing.
You spin around, lungs locking.
Your door is open.
Not wide—just enough.
Enough to know it’s not a malfunction.
And not a mistake.
Something stands in the hallway. Still. Tall. Silent.
The red lighting spills across the threshold like a warning.
Your heart slams so hard you can hear it in your ears.
No. Not hear it. Feel it.
First Sight
He steps through like he’s been waiting just behind the wall all this time.
You don’t need him to speak.
You know.
Your whole body knows.
He’s dressed in black—head to toe. He moves like shadow and muscle stitched together by tension. And the mask—
It’s not the white one he gave you. This one is matte black, expressionless, deep shadows where his eyes should be.
You can’t see them.
But you can feel them.
You take a breath—too sharp, too shallow—and your hands curl into fists at your sides just to keep them from shaking.
“Is it you?” you whisper.
A pause. A tilt of his head.
“You’ve been in my room.”
“You asked me to stay.”
“So you broke protocol.”
“I’ve broken a lot for you.”
He steps closer.
Not enough to touch. But enough to change the temperature between you.
Your chest rises in a sharp inhale.
“Why now?”
“Because I couldn’t watch you ask for me one more time.”
Your breath stutters. You can’t stop blinking.
“Is this real?”
“Realer than glass.”
You don’t dare move.
Every nerve in your body feels lit from within, like something electric is crawling beneath your skin.
“Will you take it off?”
“No.”
“Why?”
“Because if I do, you’ll see too much.”
“And if you don’t, I’ll imagine worse.”
“Would that be so bad?”
Your breath catches so hard it burns.
“I should be afraid of you.”
“You are.”
“But not the way I was.”
“I know.”
No Contact
He raises one gloved hand.
Not to touch you. To almost.
The heat of it floods into your skin, even though it never lands.
Your breath gets stuck in your throat.
You’re close enough now to feel it. Not just heat. Presence.
“Do you want me to touch you?”
You can’t answer.
Your lungs are too full. Your chest too tight. Your heart too loud.
“That’s what I thought.”
He lowers his hand.
You want to scream.
“Not yet.”
“Why not?”
“Because the first time I touch you, I won’t stop.”
Your pulse slams in your ears.
You know it’s not a threat.
And that’s what terrifies you most.
The Leaving
He turns. Walks to the door.
And somehow that hurts more than the space between you.
“You’re not staying?”
“I can’t.”
“Why?”
He pauses.
“Because if I stay, I won’t leave.”
“Will I see you again?”
“Next time, you won’t have to ask.”
The door slides shut behind him.
Locks.
And this time, the silence that follows isn’t empty.
It’s full of everything he didn’t do.
And everything he promised he will.
Taglist: @riasturns@poppetbaby02@johnheart@bells-sturn@user1smvtysturniolo@finnickodairslut @bellxx9 @ariastur9z @sage-burrow@theylovedemi @persephonesluvs @elisebeattie@novalovesstvrz@angelsturniolo@honey-zozo@idek1234567891@darksturnioloqueen@alexisa78
Update Pt. 3 : Tell No One
okay so i think i'm bouta to do something that gone have you bitches breathless. tell me why my ass felt like Shakespeare the way this chapter turning out...
how this chapter got me: ^^
Tell No One
Part Six - Unauthorized
The Glitch
It’s not the first time breakfast has arrived late.
You’ve stopped expecting it to be on time. But this morning, something’s different.
The tray slides in nine minutes past the usual cue. You count it out. You always do now.
But this time, there’s something else.
The tea.
You don’t drink it right away. You just stare at it. The color’s right. The smell’s right. And when you lift it to your mouth, it’s steeped the way you always make it for yourself. Three minutes. Just a hint of honey. No lemon.
You never told anyone that.
You set it down slowly. Hands steady even though your stomach isn’t.
You turn—and see it waiting.
The tablet.
Open. Already powered. Not blinking or locked. No login screen. Just there.
And under the usual folders—REFLECTION LOGS, SYSTEM RECORDINGS, OBSERVER NOTES—you see a fourth one.
Small. Unlabeled.
Just a single black dot.
•
You tap it.
What You Weren’t Supposed to Know
A list loads. Clean. Tidy. Clinical.
Override logs.
You scroll slowly at first. Then faster.
Observer M22 – Room Temperature Adjustment – UNAUTHORIZED Observer M22 – Tray Delay Approved – UNAUTHORIZED Observer M22 – Viewer Reassignment – UNAUTHORIZED Observer M22 – Subject Access Override – UNAUTHORIZED Observer M22 – Noncompliant Review Flag – PENDING ESCALATION
Each one feels like a thread tightening around your ribs.
You back out. Open Personnel Assignments.
You tap your ID: EXR-117
Observer: NULL
You were never assigned an observer.
You were supposed to be unmonitored.
The Realization
You don’t cry. Not yet.
You just walk to the mirror like it might break if you breathe wrong.
You touch the glass with your fingers.
“You weren’t supposed to see me.”
The red light above the mirror blinks once.
A flicker. Barely perceptible.
“You weren’t assigned to me. You chose me.”
Nothing.
No knock. No message. Just the light. Watching.
And that’s somehow worse.
Because it means he knows.
Someone Else Knows
They take you to the corridor again.
You don't ask why. You don't talk. You just walk, eyes forward, mind spinning.
He's already there - the other subject.
The one with the too-watchful eyes.
He doesn't smirk this time. Doesn't say anything at first.
But as you pass him, he leans in just enough to whisper:
“He’s not supposed to care about you.”
You pause.
“What?”
He looks straight ahead. His voice is quieter now.
“You know that, right? That they don’t assign… feelings. You sleep closer to the mirror now.”
You stare at him. Something’s wrong in his expression—too still.
You stop.
“What?”
He glances at you, but only briefly. His expression is unreadable.
“You lean into it when you talk. Like it’s a person. Not glass.”
You don’t answer.
He tilts his head.
“Has it answered you yet?”
Your voice is low. Guarded.
“What do you mean?”
“Don’t play dumb,” he says. “You’re different now. Look at you.”
He pushes off the wall and walks past you—but as he passes, his voice drops to almost a whisper:
“Just be careful. That’s how it starts.”
You turn to look at him.
“How what starts?”
He stops. Doesn’t look at you.
“You stop being scared of it. And start wanting it to see you.”
His gaze flicks to the mirror.
“That’s when they stop protecting you.”
“They?”
A bitter half-smile curves across his face.
“You think there’s only one of them watching?”
“Why are you telling me this?”
He doesn’t answer. Not directly.
“I had one too. A long time ago. She used to leave me notes.”
He smiles. It's small. Empty.
“I stopped getting them.”
You look down at your feet.
“What happened to her?”
He shrugs.
“Ask your mirror.”
Then he walks away.
You’re not sure if your chest aches from the warning… or the suggestion of what it might mean.
The Mirror Doesn't Blink
The mask is under your pillow again.
You don’t remember putting it there. You don’t even remember falling asleep.
You pull it out slowly. Unwrap it. Press your forehead to it for a second—just one.
Then you rise. Walk to the mirror.
You don’t sit in the chair.
You stand in front of the mirror, hands gripping the frame like you could tear it from the wall if you just pulled hard enough.
“Are there others?”
No knock. No blink. No breath.
“How many of you are watching me?”
Still nothing.
“Is it just you, or do they all see me the way you do?”
Your voice rises. It shakes. It dares.
“Or am I the only one you’ve broken the rules for?”
The glass stays silent.
“You weren’t supposed to be here. I wasn’t supposed to be watched.”
Your palm hits the mirror—louder this time. Not violent. Just done pretending.
“But you watched me anyway.”
You press your forehead to the cool surface.
“You’ve changed everything. You know that, right?”
Your reflection looks tired. Like it’s been awake for days. Like it’s someone else now—someone softer, someone haunted.
“I used to want to leave.”
You slide down the wall until your back hits the floor, knees pulled to your chest.
“Now I just want to know if you’ll still be here when they take that choice away.”
The light above the mirror doesn’t flicker. It just glows. Constant. Steady.
The mask.
You bring it to your lap. Let it rest there. You trace the edge with your thumb, slow and gentle like you’re afraid it might feel you back.
“I don’t know what you look like.”
Your voice is quiet now. Raw.
“But I think if I saw you… I’d still recognize you.”
The mask doesn’t move.
The mirror doesn’t blink.
You hesitate, then look back toward the glass.
“There was someone else. The boy. The one in the corridor.”
You hold the mask a little tighter.
“He said he used to have someone, too. Someone who left him notes. Then one day they just stopped.”
You let the words sink in—his and yours.
“He told me to ask my mirror what happened to her.”
You lift your chin, eyes locking with the red light like it’s watching more than your face.
“So I’m asking.”
“What happened to her?”
Silence.
“Was she like you?”
Still nothing.
“Was he like me?”
Then—finally—a single, slow knock.
One.
You tilt your head, forehead resting lightly on the shell of it.
“I’m scared of what this is.”
You take a breath.
“But I’m more scared of what it means if it stops.”
You look up. Into the glass. Not at your reflection.
“Don’t stop choosing me.”
The knock doesn’t come.
But the red light blinks—
Once. Then again.
And then stays on.
Taglist: @riasturns@poppetbaby02@johnheart@bells-sturn@user1smvtysturniolo@finnickodairslut @bellxx9 @ariastur9z @sage-burrow@theylovedemi @persephonesluvs @elisebeattie@novalovesstvrz@angelsturniolo@honey-zozo@idek1234567891@darksturnioloqueen@alexisa78 @darksturnioloqueen
Update pt. 2
GUYS!!!!! I'm almost done writing part six of TELL NO ONE
i want y'all to be shook. I'm hoping to post it tn!
Taglist: @riasturns@poppetbaby02@johnheart@bells-sturn@user1smvtysturniolo@finnickodairslut @bellxx9 @ariastur9z @sage-burrow@theylovedemi @persephonesluvs @elisebeattie@novalovesstvrz@angelsturniolo@honey-zozo@idek1234567891@darksturnioloqueen@alexisa78
Update
Guyssss don’t hate meeeee
So I started school recently and have been very busy… so I haven’t been able to write 😬😅
I promise I’m going to find time to write soon! Don’t break up with me! I can be better!!!!
Request/ idea! Matt and reader get a little- freaky... before a flight
៹ Standby. matt sturniolo.
smut ig, brattamer!matt if you squint, semi-public setting, tension + release (sort of), suggestive content, mutual teasing, established relationship, use of pet names.
"The airports at dawn always have something...".