Final Girl Understudy

Creepypasta drabbles MDNI 18+

[final-girl-understudy]

She/they⋆⋆25⋆⋆Sagittarius⋆⋆Pan⋆⋆ADHDisaster

“Courage is not the towering oak that sees storms come and go; it is the fragile blossom that opens in the snow.”

― Alice Mackenzie Swaim

⋆｡𖦹°⭒˚｡⋆asks are open ⋆｡𖦹°⭒˚｡⋆

This is my CRP fic blog, welcome welcome. Please wipe off your muddy boots on the mat before coming in-- we're a shoes off household.

My asks are always open but not always answered. I'll learn what my hard no's are as I go and will post them below, but until then ask what you like. I will try my best. Toby and Ben are my favorites <3

Hard No's:

scat/vomit

feet

pedo

beastiality

Non-consent (CNC and dubious consent it allowed)

Headers are mine//credit to me

Anons:

[writingdose]

[milkooze-deactivated20260329]

[final-girl-understudy]

This would be me helping the boyf with pool— 😮‍💨😩 I gotchu Princess

[formerlyluckymanticore]

Reblog if you will never. Ever. Use AI in your writing.

[televandalist]

[final-girl-understudy]

I think cuddling with criss crossed limbs with the creeps on an old worn out couch with a good dip to it to watch a dumb sitcom of my choice might save me

[final-girl-understudy]

Me when I’m thinking about my writing for Brian and I remember mama’s got free will 😪

[final-girl-understudy]

Fitting Room drabble

Ticci Toby x Reader <400 words

Imagine being in an established relationship with Toby but it’s still somewhat early on so you don’t know how he’ll respond to more domestic errands. You expect him to be the guy that grumbles about taking a long time in the mall while you shop and/or waiting on the bench outside the store while you peruse— but you couldn’t have been more wrong. 

You tell him you’re going out to do some shopping and don’t pressure him to feel the need to come along but he’s just eager to be out with you. He will carry your purse. It’s literally not a big deal. He’ll point things out in the windows that he thinks you’ll look good in. He’ll even try things on that you hand him out of curiosity. 

What surprised you most was when he slipped into the fitting room with you. While he was waiting for you to try on some odds and ends he noticed the clerk was on lunch and the doors touched the floor. Toby cheekily pressed a finger to his lips to urge you to be silent. The fact that you were trying on a dress at the moment made his next plan a little more convenient. 

“I-I think this one is a keeper, b-bu-but wanna give it a test drive?” He says just barely above a whisper in a terribly suggestive tone. It was a really pretty fabric. You liked how it looked draped over his head as he knelt underneath. Your fingers tried to hold onto the walls for strength and curled around the yes, no, maybe, hooks. His breathy chuckle huffed against your cunt as he watched you squirm through half lidded eyes. You had the misfortune of seeing your own lust struck, anxiety ridden face in the mirror. You also had a secondary view of your very dutiful boyfriend and how he diligently ate your pussy. And yes he will taunt and tease you to keep quiet through your orgasm just to stretch it out longer.

“Y-you don’t want to get caught do you?” He smugly asked as he snapped the waist band of your panties against the hug of your hip. 

This was lost deep in my notes app and forgotten about???

[final-girl-understudy]

Sometimes I think about an AU where the operator initially targeted Lyra rather than Toby. She was supposed to get worse but the minute she decides to get OUT (I like to think that the accident they were in was the two of them running away from the abusive household) he scares the crap out of her and makes her crash the car. Instead of being at a total loss he looks at her brother and goes... I guess he'll do *shrug*

And that would be something Toby would never know.

[i-will-write]

how i sleep knowing i write shitty fiction but at least don’t use chatgpt

[final-girl-understudy]

The way in which I abandon every other fic idea for the new thought because it’s Brian and be SO FUCKING FR RN

run don’t walk I’m— DOING IT

[final-girl-understudy]

I can stop any time I want actually—

Just a wip tho…

[final-girl-understudy]

Alt. Vers under the cut

Ben may or may not be my hyper-fixation at the moment—

Yes, this is my art 🖼️

[final-girl-understudy]

Low-key obsessed with my head-canons for Ben rn... like hear me out--

sfw-drabbles-incomplete-still pondering

I would keep a lot of the OG stuff pre-death even if a lot of the finer details are debated.

I'd say he'd join the mansion young and that's where he grew up

in my AU ghosts age depends on their maturity so I do think that Ben can age but just differently than others.

I know video games is like his Thing™ but recently it's felt like his only thing! I want to focus more on being an ill-defined entity. His powers literally have no bounds.

Canonically he uses his powers to drive people mad to kill them or have them kill themselves. I can see him being self absorbed enough to twist people up into believing he's some sort of god. He craves validation and the adoration he'd get from that(and not to mention people there to do his bidding) would be addicting. Slippery slope into a cult EASY.

I believe The Operator chose to strike a deal with him to keep him under his thumb. He was young and impressionable enough to not understand the sheer power he had at his fingertips. He'd have a place to stay and protection in exchange for his services, his game cartridge would be collateral.

No one is on great terms with him after this. He was so full of himself that it came across as grating to say the least. And he'd absolutely turn around and be like "Guys... come on I was Joking! ...Guys? hello?" 👉👈

So when Ben get's too big an ego for his own good Slender would have to Nuke him into submission. Can't play nice? You're gonna get your toys taken away. He's stripped of a lot of his powers until he can be trusted again. Essentially bound to the mansion and only able to do remote work he's found himself at the bottom of the food chain.

The only power he has over other people would be to make deals but most people are smart enough to know better than that. Jeff however is not most people. He's somehow figured it's not a big deal and stacked up an impressive amount of I.O.U's

I think he'd have a complex yet strained relationship with Jack because of his Cult Era that would be fun to explore.

I think a lover that would love him for what he is and not what he could do would absolutely destroy him. Like cannot live without them very territorial kind of way. Change him from the subject of prayer to the devoted.

Being stripped of everything and having one truly meaningful relationship at his fingertips?

Oh he'd burn everything down to keep that. The kind of kick in the pants that would take him out of his self pitying wallowig

[final-girl-understudy]

Matching Your Energy

Summary: You were done being the girl waiting at the door for your boyfriend's mood to pass. No more running away. You were going to keep him until the storm passes come hell or high water. So sure, you drugged and tied up your lover. What's the big deal?

Characters: Ticci Toby x F. Reader

Warning: fluff and smut, light bondage, reader makes questionable toxic choices, vaginal sex, drugging, dubious consent (on Toby's part/ Wild ik)

18+ MDNI

Words: ~4k

Note: Just self indulgent smut really. If this isn't for anyone then it's for me, lmao.

-unedited-

Loving someone like Toby was like a rollercoaster, which sounds like an absolute cliché, sure. It's more specifically like a wooden coaster where when you make those whipping turns you can feel the tracks groan and lean, and in all the excitement you wonder if it was going to take you down with it in one foul swoop. The highs were highs and the lows were oh so very low.

It all started when you shoved him in a locker and pressed your back against the door. When the police came through you pointed further down the hall and said you saw a guy in a hoodie go that way. You don't know what possessed you but the dinner at the diner down the street was unforgettable. After that he kept coming around like a stray dog, always just around the next corner and leaving gifts like a crow to remind you even if he's gone he's not far.

Toby was the type to learn your favorite meal and burn it to a crisp several times over learning how to make it until it was at the very least edible. He would take the comforter out of the dryer and ensnare you with it as he tackled you onto the bed. He'd ask you to paint his nails when you did yours-- any time he felt guilty for not being able to hold still you'd plant a kiss on his nose and continue.

You knew your boyfriend loved you, you had been together for a year and a half or so. He was also known for his self sabotaging mood swings. After weathering a few of them you saw that he wasn't as much of a live wire as he might have first appeared. It was a pattern. Being happy and comfortable was a ticking bomb for him. As the fuse burned down to ignition he began to look for problems to pick at to create a catastrophe. A giant, breaking plates kind of, fight would ensue and he would have to leave for a week or two to blow off steam.

You used to stand in the doorway sobbing waiting for him to return, taking what he said to heart. Once you knew better and realized that he would come back you curled on the couch in the dark instead. It didn't make it less cold but you felt less like a fool. Toby would always return more like himself, he would cry into your shirt while you played with his hair until he fell asleep. The two of you got closer, more intimate as well. You told him your baggage and piece by piece he gave you bits of his-- memories he hadn't shared with anyone, even if he didn't remember them well himself.

Your hypothesis was that while you made your home his and you wanted him there with you... his concept of a home was four walls that kept the hurt in. No matter how good the moment, the snake was always there to bite him in the ass later. He was trying to drive that out of you. For you to show your fangs before you could get him when his guard is down. Maybe proving to yourself that you're unlovable is easier than having someone will that into you. Or maybe it's only people who have been taught that who believe it in the first place.

In the end you learned that it was best to disengage entirely from the fight. Prove that you were once and for all the safe and loving girlfriend you were. In the end it didn't make the nights without him post-fight any less cruel. But what else was there to do? So you stirred the pot of stew on the stove, the roughly chopped vegetables chased the current forged by the ladle. Toby’s footsteps thudded upstairs in the way that signaled to you that he was about to blow. 

He had needled and poked and prodded you the whole drive home to manifest a fight out of you. You had caught on to his patterns a long time ago and had no heat to feed into it, which left him frazzled and irritated. Loving him wasn’t easy but you did what you had to do. All that was left was hope that when he stormed out this time it won’t be the last time you ever hear of him. 

His footsteps stomped down the stairs and he waited expectantly behind you on the other side of the island. Your socked foot rose to scratch and itch on your opposite calf as the broth softly bubbled. 

“W-Well?” He began in an accusatory tone, “got anything to say f-fuh-for yourself?” 

“What’s up?” You hum like he had asked about the weather. 

He shook your zip up hoodie like it were concrete evidence, the zipper jingled softly. “This doesn’t smell l-luh-like you and I-it doesn’t smell like me… what the hell is that about?” He grew dangerously close to a shout. You could tell him that it was, in fact, innocent and not someone else’s cologne— or whatever cheap cliche he was thinking, but he would just find another reason to be pissed. You turned and leaned on the counter with crossed arms. 

“The store was out of the fabric softener I like, I had to get a substitute.” 

“You’re lying,” he threw the hoodie on the ground and it slid into the dark hall, “Y-you’re fucking a-a-a-round with someone e-else aren’t you?” His shoulders rose making him look bigger-- more frightening.

“I would never do that to you and you know that,” the soup nearly boiled over so you turned the burner off, “You can talk to me later when you’re calm.” You bristled, but your resolve was strong. He could yell and scream at you, you knew it was more about him than you. 

“Fuck you, I-I’m fucking out of here— Where a-are my boots,” he looked around for where he had last kicked them off last. You pulled tupperware out of the cabinet and filled it up with the stew. The lid snapped as you shut it and you let it fall with a clatter on the countertop. 

“At least eat before you go. It’ll just go to waste,” you stopped on your way upstairs, your hand resting on the banister, “Stay or go, it’s up to you.” Toby glared at your back as you disappeared up the stairs, but couldn’t deny the ache in his stomach. Messy and ravenous he ate over the sink in the dark and let the container and spoon fall loudly like a petulant child. He leaned over the counter as the warm food melted the harsh edges of his temper. He considered he was burnt out from the last mission, but failed to notice that his feelings were part of a larger cycle. That’s only something he can recognize once he’s out of it— as if he were a bull seeing red with blinders. 

Exhaustion washed over him like a wave, harder than it usually would. He’s worked through several days without sleep before, but this was something different-- like being smothered with a weighted blanket. He narrowed his eyes at the empty dish and the pot on the stove as it all went black. He fell to the kitchen tile with a dull thud. 

___

Toby felt groggy as he came to and his vision came back bleary and unfocused. In your living room, he sat where he could just nearly see the kitchen where he originally passed out. He jerked forward once he pieced together the moments leading up to this, but his limbs were restricted. Now, he was in the recliner with his torso, wrists, and ankles duct taped several times over onto the suede. Toby continued to yank and tug, but it was clear that this would require a knife or something of the sort. 

“HEY—!“ 

“Woah woah, hey yourself. No need to shout I’m right here,” you reemerged into the open concept kitchen-living-dining room and he could barely make you out under the dim warm lowlight of the lamps. One of his oversized t-shirts scantily covered your bottom as you softly padded up to your boyfriend, “Morning love-bug,” you bashfully remained a safe few feet away. Despite what you said it was still night, just far later than it was before.

“Y-you fucking drug-g-ged me,” he spat incredulously. You?! You drugged Him? You raised your hands defensively, “Well, you didn’t leave me with a lot of options, hon. You took it like a champ though,” you complimented.

“Let me go.” he seethed

“That would literally defeat the purpose of any of this,” you deadpanned, “It wasn’t easy preparing that you know. It takes a lot to knock you out.” 

“Purpose o-of what? W-why would you do any of this?” He rocked forward in the chair in frustration and ultimately fell back into place. You dragged a chair from the bistro set and planted it next to him. He glowered at you as you delicately brushed his bangs out of his face. 

“Because I’m willing to do what it takes. No more running away. You’re going to stay like this until it’s passed. I’m not letting you go,” you cupped his face in both of your hands. 

“You’re crazy,” he breathed out in disbelief. His eyes searched your face for the joke. Just kidding! He could almost hear your voice burst into laughter.

“Not crazier than you. Crazy for you maybe,” you sighed, “I’m not letting you ruin this relationship over a mood swing.” 

“You told me it was my choice to stay o-or leave.” Toby turned his jaw to strain away from your touch.

“Oh, and you don’t say things you don’t mean. You were about to make the wrong choice! I was just helping you along.” Your arms fell back to your sides and the two of you looked at each other in silence. What a pair the two of you made. The criminal and the woman crazy enough to love him.

“You c-cuh-ca-can't do this forever. What about when I have to use the bathroom?” He asked plainly. 

“I’m prepared to make that sacrifice,” you stated matter-of-factly. 

“Don't y-yuh-you th-thhh-think that might kill the romance?” 

“Not as much as you walking out that door. I’m willing to do whatever it takes to show you that I mean it. That I’m going to go that extra mile for you. For us. There’s no other shoe, or other guy, or back up option for me. It’s you or bust,” it was your turn to start getting emotional, you tried to reign in the waterworks as much as you could but it was proving to be difficult. 

“I p-probably w-wuh-won’t fall for this a second time. Wh-what then?” He measured you up coldly. 

“Then… I’ll hold myself hostage. I’ll find a way. Even if I have to make it up to you for this, I’ll put in the work.” You let your flat palms feel up his clothed torso, it comforted you. Even if he's mean. Even if he hates you... He's here.  

He leaned in as far as he could and spoke in shape punctuated words, “Let. Me. Out. I’m not n-n-ne-negotiating with a terrorist,” he turned his head away to be difficult. You sniffed in a prissy little scoff kind of way.  

"God, you're such an asshole. Fine," you sat up with a huff. The single oven light was working hard to light the whole kitchen. Toby barked at you from the other side of the room but you drowned him out with the garbage disposal. The suspect meal you cooked for him congealed in the time it was left open on the counter-- it dripped like chunky ooze out of the pot down the drain.

The piping hot water steamed out of the faucet and flushed your face. With few dishes it was quick work and more importantly gave you something to do while your boyfriend tuckered himself out. Annoyingly enough, he was well rested for this tantrum. Some people really don't know how to be grateful. A paring knife carved the skin off an apple in clean ribbons as you hummed to yourself a jingle you couldn't get out of your head.

"I knew you'd turn on me. It was so f-fuh-fucking obvious..." he returned to a talking volume, his throat horse from all the former shouting. You made a blah-blah-blah motion with one hand as the other carried the plate of apple slices.

"Yeah, I'm a real monster. That's why I made you a snack," you sat on the floor near him and rest the plate on his lap. He looked at the fruit and back to you with bitter suspicion. You took one and bite into it like you were offended you even had to prove yourself. The other half rose up and pressed to his closed lips that refused to open.

"You could be trying to murder suicide me because I'm not complying. I'm not eating that," he mumbled as well as he could while being force fed.

"I'm not crazy! I just love you!" You raised your hands in frustration.

"You have a funny way of showing it," he scoffed. You set the plate on the side table and ate the other half of the slice as you got atop him. Your soft thighs distributed your weight on his lap. You'd found refuge here many times throughout your relationship, albeit the circumstances were a bit different.

He was just as handsome as ever. You let the moment hang as you took him in, attitude and all. Dragging your hands down his shoulders and arms, just to feel his skin on yours. As pissed as he was there was a glimmer in his eye, a wistfulness that wanted to lean into it, betrayal be damned.

“Looks like you don’t hate this as much as you say,” your hands wandered down to his hips where there was a growing tent in his pants, “You can lie all you want, but clearly something about this is doing it for you,” you teased. 

“Y-you kn-nn-know that’s not how it works—“ he hissed air in through his teeth as you palmed his dick through the layers of clothing. 

“Then say it. Tell me you don’t want this. I’ll stop. Just say the word,” your fingers inched up to the button of his pants. Toby resigned to look away with a bright red blush on his face, but said nothing. 

You leaned in and used the fact that he exposed his neck to your advantage to nuzzle your nose in and leave a trail of soft pecks. Your hands made quick work to unwrap him and he wasn’t getting softer, that’s for sure. “You drive me crazy,” you breathily said, only barely audible. He couldn't just forget every night that you'd spent together, or ignore the fact that you wore the panties he liked. His dick was fully erect, his face flushed with hot shame.

“S-says the w-woman that drugged me and tied me to a chair.” He scoffed but there was a huffiness to his voice, a delicate ecstasy that crept in. 

“And you’re the pervert who likes it,” your hot breath in his ear caused a shiver to shoot down his spine. You straightened and looked at your pitiful boyfriend tied, bound, and glaring back at you with his erection out-- he was completely at your mercy.

“I can’t say I hate it either. You’re cute like this,” you mused. It wasn’t often Toby let you switch. He liked feeling in control in your relationship. Maybe this would help him realize that you could manage the reigns just fine if given the opportunity. 

He opened his mouth to object to being referred to as cute, but you interrupted with your lips on his, all tongue and gnashing teeth. You invaded his mouth sloppily and he tried to keep up, but couldn’t deny that he felt himself begin to melt. Wet smacks were the only sounds in the room as you tilted your head to deepen the kiss. 

Your pelvis rolled to grind against him, the thin layer of underwear doing little to hide how hot and damp you had become. He harshly groaned into your mouth like he couldn’t control himself. Your hands were free to wander and touch what you liked but he was stuck. 

“I-I knew it. I kn-nn-knew you were t-tuh-two faced,” he said as your lips briefly parted. 

“Maybe we deserve each other then.” Your tongue chased his, enveloping one another.

His hips followed yours like the push and pull of the tide, you could feel his dick throb and twitch, wanting to be used. Toby’s fingers wreathed and wrists strained against the tape, he wanted to grab you and set the pace. Defiantly he wanted to be in you, to fucking fill you already. First and foremost he wanted to assert dominance.

The kiss parted with a string of saliva and you let it fall from your lips into your cupped hand below, spit dripping from your parted lips. He watched with dazed eyes, blown pupils, and matching bruised lips.

Painfully slow you massaged the spit onto his shaft. Slowly from base to tip you painted the glaze evenly with care. He jolted as if being electrocuted at your touch. You had planned on getting right into it, but watching him squirm made you feel a bit better about all the grief he had caused you. Your thumb found the slit and dragged slow circles around the tip, mixing the saliva with the beads of white pre-cum. 

“A-are you g-g-going to do something, or what?” He snapped, in a cloud of lewd need he was getting antsy to get off already. You had all of the power and he couldn’t tell how he felt about it. He would normally say that this wasn’t his fantasy, but his achingly painful erection said otherwise. Going any slower might kill him. 

“That depends on you, baby,” you cooed, “You want it?” 

“What do you think?” He still hadn’t wisened up to drop the snark. 

“Nuh-uh,” you let your sticky gooey fingers leave his appendage and raise to his lips, you smeared the substance and shoved your fingers in past his teeth, “You’ve been real mean to me today. Ask nicely.” 

Being forced to shut up for a goddamn second gave him the clarity he needed, Toby nodded reluctantly and sucked on your fingers, licking off the mixture of your two fluids until they were clean— savoring the musky flavor. You slid them back out with a pop as if he still wanted more. 

With him like this you had every opportunity to do whatever you wanted. To be that monster he feared so much. What you wanted most out of him was to shower him with your adoration. To make love to him, even if it did look as fucked up and kinky as this. What else would be more fitting for a sick broken fuck like him? He let out a slow shaky breath. It’s you.

“Please?” He pleaded casting his gaze up upon your face. His thighs twitched and he shifted in his seat, a moment away from humping the air like a dog in heat. His whines were music to your ears. 

“You won’t run away again?” You scolded. 

“N-no, baby I’m s-so sorry,” he huffed, the constraints feeling even tighter than before. You couldn’t tell if he looked ready to cry because he genuinely felt bad or if he really really needed to cum. Either way, it was what you wanted to hear, “Y-you were right. You’re always right. Baby, I-I need you so bad.” 

You sat up on your knees, the recliner groaned under the shift of weight. Your nimble fingers fed under your long shirt and hooked under your panties. His eyes were glued like a man starved as you slid them down inch by inch, the wet pool of need dampening the cloth visibly apparent once they were off. Drool glistened and dripped out the side of his cheek from his gash, as it did from time to time— especially when he was begging to eat you out. 

You wiped it off with your thumb along his jawline and brought your fingers down past your navel. The slick wet sounds drove him mad, you made quick work of it and circled above at your clit before sinking your digits below into your well of need. Two fingers inserted with ease, which who were you kidding— you were as ready as he was.

“Untie my hands. Let me feel you,” he switched between looking at your pretty dripping pussy and your face as it began to contort with pleasure. His pleas were left ignored and you shuffled closer to direct his cock, the hot flushed tip brushing against your fluttering entrance. You could feel yourself already clench with need. Toby’s eyes rolled into the back of his head and his head tipped back in pleasure at the contact. 

Your wet heat sunk down onto his member at your own pace(much to Toby’s dismay). His nails dug into the armrests of the chair. You hissed as you bottomed out, he filled you whole and you basked in the feeling before even thinking about moving. You braced your hands on his shoulders and lifted to sink down again. He moaned out like a pornstar gone rogue(was he always this loud or had you peeled back another layer of vulnerability in your batshit go for broke plan?).

“F-faster— fuck, faster—“ he breathily begged. You weren’t much better at this rate. You hopped on his cock, picking up the momentum as pleasure coiled up within you like a tightening spring. Your cunt clenched and milked him as if there were actually time to have missed him. Miss this. 

A thought occurred and you slowed out of breath. Toby let out a whine and lifted his head to see what the hold up was. “Sorry babe, it’s too late to let you touch them but I know how you like to look,” you pulled the shirt up and held the hem with your teeth to reveal your breasts, perky and evidently just as aroused as the rest of you. 

“Y-You’re trying to kill me—,” he moaned out as you continued. Toby watched as your tits bounced with the rest of you as you jammed yourself full of him. He chased your movement with what little mobility he had, he bucked and slammed his hips against yours in wet, slick, loud smacks. The pleasure was pulsing in you rising to a climax— Toby jackhammered as he felt his balls clench and toes curl. His hot semen painted your insides, hitting your womb and escaping around the seal at the base. You slowed down to ride out the last of your orgasm and rested your forehead on his shoulder. The two of you panted until you were done seeing stars. 

“I’m not letting you go, Toby…” you rasped. 

“I’m sorry,” he replied even softer. You lifted your head to see that he had begun to cry. You cupped his face again and wiped away the tears to kiss him all over his face. 

“There’s my boy.” You choked up with a fragile giggle. The two of you cradled each other for a long while. He may be twisted but for once he never questioned if you were ready for all of it. That little voice in the back of his mind was quiet. It may come back later but he had a good feeling you were up to the challenge. Toby was never going to let that go. You were right. It was you or bust. No more no less. 

If you were willing to go this far then it opened up new doors for him as well. Don't expect to ever be rid of him. If you thought it was enamored before? That was nothing. He will do just about anything to keep you. That's a threat and a promise.

“M-Maybe we should get some r-real ropes f-for the bedroom,” he thought aloud. 

“I like the way you think, Rogers.” You sniffled and laughed again.

[de-morte]

“I have been slaughtered and slaughtered so much that eventually, I became an axe.”

— Channing M