Texas Chainsaw AU!Leon Drabble
Content Warning: This drabble contains themes of manipulation, psychological tension, and an undercurrent of unease. There are references to ominous folklore, implied family secrets, and a subtle but deliberate challenge meant to lure the protagonist into potential danger. Readers should be aware of themes involving isolated rural settings, social dynamics with an eerie undertone, and a charismatic but potentially menacing character.
In one of the few, crowded bars of Newt, Texas, Y/N takes a sip of her beer and narrows her eyes over the neck of the bottle as she lowers it. “Well, I’ll be damned... Who in the hell is that fine piece of ass right there?” She asks the two women next to her at the hightop. Claire giggles before speaking up first. “Why, Y/N! That is the newest addition to our lil' town of Newt, Texas… Says his name is Leon Kennedy.” Claire offers in a hushed whisper. She smirks and tosses her shot back, the immediate burn evident on her face as she winces. Jill speaks up next. “Ain’t no damn way he’s a Kennedy. Y’all know what folks say ‘bout that family. Disfigured, antisocial, inbred freaks.” Jill takes a sip of her whiskey and shakes her head “Violent hermits, too, if the stories’re true. People say they can’t tell a friend from a fuckin’ enemy.” Claire just rolls her eyes. “Oh, come on now, you know them’s just rumors. And besides—maybe he’s some real distant relative or somethin’… real distant.”
Y/N's eyes rove over the newcomer and she gives a lazy, cocky smirk. “Well, Kennedy or not… sure as hell don’t look like he’s got that awkward, backwoods energy the rest of ‘em do.” She gestures subtly with the tip of her beer. “I mean, look at him—charm drippin’ right off him like honey. Ain’t even gotta try, and Ada and her little flock are eatin’ outta the palm of his hand.” She says derisively. Claire stretches and leans back, offering Y/N a coy smile. “I don’t know about you, but I think Little Miss Social Butterfly should go give him a proper Newt greetin'~” Jill snickers, crossing her arms. “Yeah, go on, butterfly. Flit on over there and make an impression.” Y/N, never one to turn down a challenge, sets her beer down and nods. “Fine. Guess I’ll go have me a sweet little chat with Mr. Kennedy.” She steps off her barstool and loops her thumbs in the belt loops of her skirt as she saunters up to the dirty, blonde haired stranger. He’s quite the looker. Hair tucked away under a whiskey colored, cowboy hat, warm, inviting cerulean eyes that observe and captivate simultaneously. He wears a light blue work shirt that has the first couple of buttons, undone–leaving little of his muscled chest up to one’s imagination. He’s clean-shaven and his smile is charming, even though it’s not directed at her at the moment.
Y/N rocks up to the high top inhabited by Ada and her posse. She tips her hat in greeting. “Ada. Ladies. Heard y’all were givin’ our new friend here a proper Newt greetin’.” Ada offers Y/N a lazy smirk and crosses her arms. “What, that a crime now? Talkin’ to a man before you, Y/N?” She teases as she gives the other woman a once over. Eventually, she relaxes and gestures from Y/N to Leon. “Leon Kennedy, meet Y/N L/N—Newt’s very own social butterfly. She’s friends with everyone, and everyone’s friends with her.” Leon chuckles and tips his hat in Y/N's direction. “Well it’s mighty fine to meet you, Miss L/N. Reckon I’ve heard your name floatin’ ‘round town since I got here. My aunt’s mentioned you once or twice—nothin’ but kind words, o’ course.” “Well, I would sure hope so.” Y/N says with a pearly grin. Ada raises her chin at Y/N and speaks. “We’re movin’ on to the next bar. Don’t reckon you’d mind keepin’ Mr. Kennedy company, would ya, Y/N?” She shakes her head. “Not one bit. More than happy to.” With that, Ada nods and turns on her heel leaving the bar with her group in tow.
Y/N waves to the bartender and turns her attention back to Leon. “So Kennedy… Tell me, what brings ya all the way out here to Newt?” He braces his forearms against the high-top and glances at her from under his hat. “Same thing that brings most folks out here, I ‘spose. Needed a little peace n’ quiet. Change of scenery.” He says vaguely, keeping his eyes on her the entire time. Those big blue eyes seem to draw her in as he lowers his voice, as if sharing a secret. “And, well… I got kin here. Family I ain’t seen in a long, long time.” He smirks as he leans back resting on the back half of his forearms. Y/N's eyebrows quirk at that and she takes a sip of the beer that’s handed over her shoulder to her. “So, you are related to the Kennedys.” She pauses, then tips her head. “How’s that, exactly?” Leon clicks his tongue, smirking as he swirls his whiskey. “Ah, ah, ah. My turn for a question.” He leans in, blue eyes dancing with mischief. “If you’re willin’ to play the game, that is…” He hides his smirk behind a sip of his whiskey. Y/N just offers him an arrogant smirk “I ain’t never one to back down from a challenge.” Leon chuckles at that and nods. “Yeah, you seem like the type...”
He balances his glass on the rim as he rolls it around on the table, his gaze flicks from the glass up to Y/N and he offers her a lopsided smile as he speaks, his southern drawl melting in her ears. “... Tell me, Darlin’... What exactly is your role in this town? Surely you ain’t just a worker millin’ about… No, no. There’s gotta be more to you almost like… You’re a queen b-”
“Social Butterfly’s the term we like to use,” Y/N cuts in quickly. “Don’t much care for what comes along with bein’ called a Queen Bee, so I prefer Butterfly.”
Leon watches Y/N with a slow, knowing smirk, rolling his whiskey glass between his fingers. “... Alright. I’ll respect it.” He muses and allows silence to fall over the two of them before he speaks again. His voice is warm, playful even, but there’s an unmistakable weight behind his words.
“You know, Miss L/N,” he drawls, tilting his hat back just a touch. “Folks around here love to talk about my kin like we’re somethin’ out of a ghost story. And maybe we are.” His grin widens, all teeth, like a wolf playing with its food. “But I reckon most of ‘em are just too yellow-bellied to find out the truth for themselves.”
Y/N raises an eyebrow, the corners of her lips quirking. “That so?”
Leon nods, gaze steady. “Mhm. All those whispers about not steppin’ foot past our fence after sundown? Sounds an awful lot like superstition to me. But I get it. Not everybody’s got the spine to test their fears.”
Y/N scoffs, feigning disinterest as she takes a long pull from her beer. But he sees the flicker of pride in her eyes. She’s listening. Leon leans in, voice dropping to a smooth murmur. “Now, I ain’t the kind to believe in all that nonsense myself… but if you really wanna make a statement, if you really wanna prove to Newt that the Kennedys are just like everybody else…” He lets the sentence hang, waiting.
Y/N exhales a laugh, shaking her head. “What, You want me to waltz up to that old ranch and come back alive just to make a point?”
Leon grins, eyes gleaming beneath the low bar light. “Somethin’ like that.” He straightens, stretching his arms over his head, the movement making his work shirt pull against the lines of his chest. “Or maybe you’re not as brave as you let on.”
Y/N's smirk falters, just for a second, but it’s all Leon needs.
“I’m plenty brave,” she sneers, standing taller.
Leon shrugs. “Then prove it.”
The silence that follows is thick, the weight of the challenge pressing between them. Around them, the bar is still lively, music humming through the walls, but for Y/N, everything feels like it’s shifted.
Outside, the night has settled deep. The Kennedy ranch sits somewhere in that darkness, waiting.
And Leon?
Leon just watches her, his smile easy.
Patient.
Sharp.
The smile of a man who already knows the outcome of this… little wager.
~~~
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