#fromfanfic

Fandom: From (MGM+ Series)

Pairing: Fem!Reader x Cowboy Creature, ft. Boyd Stevens

Tags: Horror, Romance, Supernatural, Tension, Fanfiction, One-Shot

Warnings: Creepy vibes, mild horror elements, implied danger, unrequited feelings (kinda?)

A/N: A little spooky, a little spicy, inspired by the eerie world of From. Hope you enjoy this tumble into the unknown! Reblog if you want more creepy cowboy vibes! 🖤🌙

The night clung to you like damp mist, heavy with pine and dread. You stood on your creaky porch, the talisman humming faintly above the door, your only shield in this cursed town. The Cowboy was back, his silhouette sharp against the moonlit trees, spurs jingling like a warning. His pale eyes gleamed under his tattered Stetson, pinning you in place.

“You’re out late, darlin’,” he drawled, voice rough as gravel. He leaned against a tree just beyond the talisman’s reach, duster coat swaying in the still air. “Temptin’ fate, ain’t ya?”

Your grip tightened on the railing, heart racing. He wasn’t like the other monsters, the ones that tore flesh with gleeful hunger. His smile was sharp, dangerous, but it stirred something reckless in you. “Maybe I’m tired of hiding,” you said, voice steadier than you felt.

His lips curved, teeth glinting. “That’s what I like ‘bout you. Got a spark.” He stepped closer, stopping just shy of the talisman’s line. “Come with me tonight. Let me show you what’s past the fear.”

Your breath hitched. He was a creature, a shadow of the town’s curse, but those lonely, almost-human eyes pulled you in. You stepped forward, the talisman’s hum fading—

“Get back!” Boyd’s voice shattered the spell. The sheriff stormed from the shadows, badge glinting, gun aimed at the Cowboy. “Y/N, step away from that thing. Now.”

The Cowboy’s smile didn’t waver, but his gaze flicked to Boyd, cold and amused. “Evenin’, Sheriff. Always spoilin’ the fun.”

“Shut it,” Boyd snapped, pulling you back behind the talisman’s buzz. His eyes blazed, all hard edges and resolve. “You know what he is, Y/N. You’ve seen what they do.”

“He’s different,” you blurted, heart pounding. “He hasn’t hurt me.”

Boyd’s jaw tightened, disbelief flashing. “Different? He’s one of them! I’m not losin’ you, too.”

The Cowboy chuckled, low and dry. “She’s got a mind of her own, Sheriff.” He tipped his hat to you. “You know where to find me, darlin’.”

Boyd raised his gun. “Come near her again, and I’ll end you.”

The Cowboy’s eyes lingered on you, a flicker of something, regret, hunger, before he melted into the dark, spurs fading. Boyd turned to you, fierce but soft. “You’re smarter than this, Y/N. Don’t cross that line.”

You know that feeling before you reach the drop of a rollercoaster? That uneasiness pulling in your gut knowing that something is coming. Impending doom, some would call it.

Since I was young, its been constant.

It was a constant pull in my stomach, low and tight, like a knot that had been tied there before I was old enough to notice. Not too painful, but a constant reminder of uneasiness.

Like that suspended moment where your body already knows what’s coming, even if your mind hasn’t caught up yet. It has never left me.

It followed me through everything. Every achievement, every heartache.

Quiet mornings. Ordinary conversations. Laughing at things that were supposed to feel normal.Even then, underneath it all, there it was—that slow, sinking anticipation.

As if vertigo was going to hit me at any second, but it never hits.

I grew up thinking this was normal. That everyone felt it. Thinking maybe this was just what being alive meant, and nobody talked about it.

But as I got older, I started to realize other people weren’t constantly bracing for impact. They weren't in a constant state of waiting. Waiting for the glass to shatter. They weren’t waiting for the drop.

They weren’t listening for something that never fully arrived.

I spent so many nights begging and pleading the sky to finally hit me. Finally show me what I have been waiting for. I spent so many sleepless nights clawing at my stomach and screaming into my pillow.

I have never felt that relief.

Never have I felt that stillness.

Well, that was until I saw that tree in the road.