I don't know

Hiya! First of all, I love your writing, you're without a doubt one of the best Tom Hardy writers out there imo!! I've been having some really big Ron Kray feels lately so I wanted to send you a quick request (: I know it's pretty out of character but I really would love a fic of Ron with a really shy/quiet gf who gets threatened by their enemies or smth and he just gets really protective (I'm a sucker for protective fics) and comforts her. Thank you! (X

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The club was empty. The silence almost deafening as you sat in one of the stools that bordered the bar. The countertop was sticky beneath your forearms, clinging to your bare skin each time you’d accidentally fold your arms and make the mistake of pressing them against the counter. Your lips twitched south into a frown, eyes lifting to the other side of the counter to inspect the length of it. There was a tub of ice. A sink, crammed pack with empty glass dishes. You pondered briefly lifting yourself up and off of the stool so you could move around the counter and wash off your sticky skin, but you didn’t think it polite to go somewhere you didn’t normally. This wasn’t your club, it was your boyfriend’s and his brother’s.

The door in the corner opened and the handsome man, you were lucky to call your’s, emerged. He was dressed down in a pair of dark trousers with a white button-down and a pair of suspenders. His coat was discarded on a table in the middle of the room, wrinkled and draped partially over one chair. His hands were folded over his chest, pinning the black tie he wore to the front of his chest as he sent a glare toward the room. You couldn’t see the remainder of those inside, but you could see Ron clearly and he didn’t look happy. His hand lifted to his glasses, adjusting the thick edge of the frame before he nudged it up and into its rightful place on his nose. You looked toward him, studying his features. His plump lips were always eye-catching, so pink and full. The sleeves of his shirt were rolled up to the space below his forearms, leaving you with a beautiful view of the visible veins that lined his soft skin. He wore a silver bracelet on one wrist and a black watch on the other, a ring circling each of his pointer fingers and one silver ring on his pinky. You lifted your gaze back to his face and shyly straightened because now he was looking at you.

“Alright?” He spoke up huskily, lowly, as if he didn’t want to be heard speaking too loud. You nodded your head once before leaning toward him, small hands fisting in your lap against the navy blue skirt you wore.

“My arms got a little.. sticky.. because of the counter.” Your innocent expression and soft voice made the tough exterior he had on display drop away in the slightest. With the tip of his boot, he knocked the door shut and made his way toward you to further inspect what you were on about. His warm hands lifted to your arms, pads of his thick fingers gliding along your dirty skin.

“Leaned in all the fucking mess, didn’t you?” He shook his head before slowly drawing you off of the stool. The height difference between the pair of you always stunned him. There was a strain forming in his neck muscles because of how often he had his head tipped south to view you. “Let’s get you cleaned up, yeah?” His hand slid around to the back of the light-colored blouse you wore. Guiding you around the bar counter and toward the sink, he turned the handle so warm water spewed from the faucet. He stuck his fingers beneath the liquid, ensuring it wouldn’t burn you before he kissed the top of your head and moved away from you so he could rummage through the cupboards in search of a bar of soap. You watched him momentarily before slowly sticking your arms beneath the water. Using your fingers to scrub at the liquor on your flesh, you let out a quiet hum and then a light sound of frustration. Ron curled his fingers around the bottle of liquid soap before moving back up behind you and reaching around your form. “Here, love.” You rotated your arms, forearms up, so he could apply some soap to your skin. He set the soap down, hands lifting to your small shoulders before he let his fingers glide down and along your arms, all the way down to wear you hadn’t begun scrubbing just yet. He took over. His thumbs brushed along the soap, repeatedly working into your flesh so he could remove the alcohol that stained your skin. You tipped your head back, ogling him with a slow, appreciative smile. You didn’t need him to help you wash up, but the fact that he’d done so without a care in the world, made you feel all warm and giddy.

The door in the corner opened and Albie poked his head out. His fingers lifted to his face, brushing along his chin before he ushered over his shoulder. “Reg wants you back in here, Ron.” His eyes flickered to you, smiling apologetically. “Won’t be much longer, I don’t think, Richardson’s boys are gettin’ a bit antsy.”

Ron let out a low grumble before moving his hands under the water so he could wash off the soap. Drawing back, he leaned over and pressed his lips against your cheek, lingering before he moved his lips to the corner of your own. You turned your head, lips parting so you could usher him along, but he pressed his mouth against yours and you were left to whimper, turning completely toward his body so you could kiss him thoroughly.

Ron let the kiss linger for as long as you wanted. He set his damp hands on your curvy hips, slowly beginning to draw you into his chest. The kiss deepened the longer that your lips stayed connected and because you felt too shy to pull away first, you wrapped your arms very slowly around his middle and relished in the feeling of his mouth moving against yours.

Albie let out a quiet sigh before looking back into the room. His eyes locked on to Reggie’s, ushering him over. Reggie didn’t hesitate. He brushed his fingers along the length of his jaw before moving toward the doorway.

“Ron?” He growled, the second that his eyes latched on to the pair of you. “Mate, I need you in here.” Ron lifted his finger, telling his brother to just wait for a second. His hand then lifted to the back of your thick locks, stroking them lazily before he brought the kiss to a close. Adjusting his glasses because they’d once again fallen down the bridge of his nose, he motioned for you to carry on with washing your arms before he twisted around and headed for the room. Reggie sighed quietly before looking toward you with a reassuring smile. He didn’t mean to snatch his brother away for meetings like the one taking place, but he was needed — especially when important things were being said.

Albie closed the door quietly, leaving you alone on your own once again. Twisting the little silver handle to turn off the water once you’d finished cleaning up, you grasped some napkins from the corner and dried off the length of your wet skin. The paper towel in your hand shriveled the further that you wet it so when it was no longer useable, you tossed it into the black bin in the corner. The lid was propped open so the napkin fell inside willingly.

Moving out from behind the bar, you dropped down on the cushion you’d been perched on before and let your eyes roam the interior of the club. It was filthy, in desperate need of a thorough scrub. The floors were gross, covered in spilled drinks just like the counter and the tables had so many bottles and glasses on the surfaces, you had an urge to help clean. Why not help take some of the stress off of your boyfriend’s shoulders?

The little voices in your head told you to just sit still. Stay in place. Ron was a big boy and he could handle cleaning up. You were positive that they had someone come in in the mornings to clean up the mess from the previous night anyway. Lifting your hand to your neck, you scratched it lazily before heaving a quiet sigh. Rotating around on the stool, you hunched over the bar and lifted another napkin. Balancing on the rail of the stool, you turned on the sink and wet the napkin just enough so that you could wipe down the counter in the spot where you were sat. You didn’t want to end up with sticky forearms again.

The door in the corner opened and who was the first to pile out?

A small man with a big head emerged from the room first. He had a sickening smile and a head full of blonde hair, greasy and in desperate need of a wash. His blue eyes fell to your bum, evident and on display as you leaned over the bar to continue to wet the towel — clearly oblivious to his sudden appearance.

“Fuckin’ hell.” The accent was thick. You felt uncomfortable because of his words and even more uncomfortable when you rotated around to inspect him. His eyes hadn’t lifted from your rear. Dropping back down in the chair, you let a little frown slide across your lips. Ron was nowhere in sight. Neither was Reggie. Nor Albie. Your eyes moved from his face to the next man’s and then the next.. they were all Richardson’s men.

Ron was sat at the table in the corner, fingers pinched around the cigar in his hand as he listened intently to what Reggie had to say. His brother was sat with his legs spread wide and his hands banging lightly against the table to mark each and ever one of his points. Albie was stood by the table, hands in his pockets as he listened in. He was oblivious to the fact that Jack was ushering the men out of the back and directly through the room you were sat in — all on your own. Ron sighed heavily, hand pressing against his forehead before he pushed his chair back. “Alright, mate, as fun as it is, yeah, sitting here and talking about all the stressful shit that we’ve got to worry about. I am in need of some food, right, and a hot shower. Gonna get going, take the girl on home.” He murmured before laying his hand on his brother’s shoulder, patting it.

You shuffled your weight on the stool before sliding off of the seat. Making movement to get behind the bar, you stiffened when a man at the front with gray hair and a snaggle tooth lunged toward you. He locked your wrist in his tight grip and held you in place.

“What’s a pretty little thing like you doing in a place like this, all on your own?” You lowered your hand to gently push his away. You didn’t want to be rude. You didn’t want to upset the blokes. You didn’t even know them. But you didn’t want to just stand as stiff as a board.

“Look at her, she’s shaking.” Another piped up with a snarl and then a husky laugh. Your body felt hot and your lower lip was beginning to tremble unnoticeably. You clamped your teeth down on the pink flesh, gnawing on it to try and hide how uncomfortable you were beginning to feel.

“She has to be Reggie’s little playmate. After what happened to Frances, he’s bound to be looking for someone to distract him.” Your eyes darted from man to man, heart aching at the words they said. But you didn’t have the bravery to confront them. You didn’t have the bravery to defend your boyfriend’s brother. You felt like you were suffocating in the small space. You wanted to spit in the man’s face, tell him that you were actually dating Ron.

“She ain’t Ron’s, he’s a fucking poof.” The grey-haired man sneered. Your hand stung at the thought. You wanted to slap the man so hard your hand would burn. You shut your eyes and clenched your jaw when the bloke stood directly against you placed his hand on your stomach. “Wonder if Reggie don’t mind sharing?” He whispered before leaning in and placing his lips against your ear. His breath made you want to gag. You hardly turned your head to the side before he grasped ahold of your face and yanked it back toward his own. Your eyes were watery, glistening with fear, but deep down you knew the man wouldn’t do much else than this. The Kray’s were in the room right there, they’d kill him if he dared move that hand any higher.

Or maybe they’d kill him for even daring to approach you.

The look on Ron’s face when he emerged was enough to make you cower in place for the rest of the men in the room. Nobody warned the bloke with his hands on you, for there wasn’t really any time. Ron had a quick stride, breathing like an angry bull as he stomped up behind the bloke and wrapped his hands in the collar of his shirt. He hauled him back and threw him against the floor, hands curling eagerly into tight fists.

Reggie stepped up though, hand pressing against Ron’s chest. “Easy,” He growled out. “Hang on, yeah, calm down.” Patting his brother’s shoulder, he attempted to try and make Ron see the bigger picture — and that was that they really didn’t need any violence to arise right now. Not after what they’d just been discussing in the room about truces and common ground. The look in Ron’s eye, though, told his brother that he didn’t care about anything that had just been said or agreed on.. he wanted the bloke on the floor to suffer for placing his hand on you. He hadn’t heard much of what had been said — but maybe that was a good thing. You shivered by the bar before slowly inching away from the group of men and toward the farthest side of the counter. Ron was oblivious. All he saw was red. Everything sounded garbled and distorted. He could only focus on what he wanted right now — and with that in mind, he pushed past his brother and toward the man on the floor. Dragging him up just enough, he sent his fist into the side of the man’s face, ring indenting in his flesh before he repeated the motion. Reggie licked his lips, unsurprised in the slightest that Ron hadn’t listened. He set his hands on his hips before looking toward Big Pat who was stood with his arms folded over his chest, waiting to be instructed in escorting everyone out. The second he was summoned, he set his hand on the pocket of his jacket, ready to withdraw his revolver if need be.

“Alright, fucking bastards, you know where the exit is.” His words were whispered under his breath, hand ushering and urging each of them toward the door in the corner, everyone apart from the man at Ron’s mercy. Ron had his teeth bared and his eyes were so angry. He looked like a completely different person. Reggie exhaled quietly before looking toward you. He didn’t understand how a relationship had formed between you and his brother. You were the complete opposite of the man.

Ron was angry, mean, big, hateful. He didn’t care about anyone or anything — apart from his family, and you. He held no pity for anyone else in the world. No sympathy. He was off his fucking rocker, as Reggie had once been told. A crazy man, capable of doing so much damage.

You were sweet. Innocent. Pure. Small. Too good for the world you lived in. You cared about too many people, your heart surely didn’t have room for anyone else. You held so much sympathy for the silliest things, Reggie was astounded you’d ever even bothered to talk to Ron. How could someone so good love someone so bad?

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Months and months ago...

The rain fell heavily, soaking whoever dared venture out in it and whoever had already been out, daring to walk beneath the dark clouds which were bound to open at any second. You’d dipped into the first building you’d come across, wet from head to toe. Your clothing was stuck to your body, glued to you. Your hair was wet, flat, and you should’ve been frustratingly uncomfortable. But you’d entered the shop with a wide grin, a very soft, sweet expression that had lured Ron in from the second you’d said hello.

“I’m so sorry to barge in.. are you open?” The room was empty. Nobody inside apart from the twins. Ron was at a table, sorting through the money and Reggie was at the bar, inspecting the inventory of alcohol. The men were speechless. The door should’ve been locked.

Reggie opened his mouth to say no, but Ron beat him to it. He was at least going to offer you the shelter despite the fact that their club was, in fact, closed, but Ron didn’t seem, at first, like he was going to offer the same thing. The rain was falling so heavily, Reggie didn’t think you’d even be able to see where you were going. And nobody else would be open at this hour. The Kray’s had just closed.

“No. You’d best be on your way out.” Ron uttered, voice muffled by the cigar he held between his lips. He looked over his shoulder, inspecting you as you pried at a little twig stuck in your hair. You sent him a very kind smile, an apologetic one that told him you understood. No fighting, no questions, no pleading to wait out the storm. You merely tipped your head and tried to apologize again for intruding. Ron hated the little pricks of guilt that stung his heart. He rarely ever felt them. But when you opened the door and he was forced to listen to the heavy pelts of rain beating against the pavement, he halted you. “You know,” He called out. “you’d be a bit foolish if you actually left. You’ll catch your death out there.” He uttered nonchalantly before looking back toward the money. Reggie didn’t say a word. He was stunned his brother had told you to get out, basically, and then had invited you to stick around all because you weren’t fussing. He shook his head before moving out from behind the counter.

“Sit down if you’d like, yeah, can I get you anything to drink or...?” Your head shook softly. You didn’t want to be difficult and you certainly hadn’t selected their establishment in hopes of getting any sort of beverage out of it. You adjusted your wet blouse before looking toward your hands. You approached the chairs in the corner, shyly lowering yourself down into one. Ron kept a close eye on you from his peripheral, noting the way you sat down, stayed quiet and didn’t dare do or say anything impolite. He tongued his cheek. A lot of women who wound up here talked the Kray’s ears off or babbled about the changes they could make to the club. He found himself growing to be just a little interested in you, but not enough to strike up a conversation, just enough to ogle you discreetly.

He had no idea that the quiet gal sat to his left, at a table all on her own, would soon become someone that he wouldn’t be able to get off of his mind — and would make a permanent place in his heart.

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Ron was stood behind the bar, washing the blood off of his knuckles. You were pretty sure his pointer finger was broken, for it was crooked and the ring he wore didn’t look straight. Your touch was gentle as you brushed your fingers along his wrist, doing your best to help clean him up, like he’d done for you earlier.

Reggie was outside, tending to the bleeding body which had been left behind. He wrote a note and shoved it into the bloke’s pocket, reminding Charlie that if he didn’t want his men to be returned to him damaged, they should really watch their mouths and really watch they put their hands.

“Does that hurt?” You asked very softly. He almost hadn’t heard you. His knuckle was purple and already bruising. Drawing his hand toward you, you did your best to wipe off all the blood without causing him any pain. Ron’s eyes were glued to you, heart skipping a beat each time you glanced up at him.

“M’sorry I left you on your own.” He grumbled out before moving his hand to rest on your arm. “Didn’t even know the blokes had left the room, until I glanced over my shoulder and they’d all piled out.” He let out a quiet sigh before pulling you toward him so he could wrap his arm around your shoulders. “He didn’t.. hurt you?”

Your head shook lightly. “He just said things.” You told him quietly. Your jaw was actually a little sore from the grip that the man had had, but you didn’t want to be too whiny.

“Things worth repeating?” Ron inquired. His hand moved from your shoulders, down and around to your waist. He pulled you in until your chest bumped his own, blue eyes unmoving from your own.

“No..” You whispered softly.

He could see you were still shaken up. Whether it was from what was said or how you were touched, he didn’t know. But he did know that you weren’t good with words, he had to read you in order to understand you — and lucky for him, you tended to wear your heart in the watery pools on your face. Leaning forward, he stole a very delicate kiss from you.

“Let’s get you home, mh?” He knew you felt just a little safer when you were in a space that you felt comfortable in. His hand fell to your own, locking around it tenderly.

“Could I.. um..” It took you a moment to speak, but he didn’t rush you. Leading you out from behind the bar, he grasped his coat off of the table and drew it on to his body. Retrieving yours from the rack in the corner, he drew it on to your shoulders and fastened the front closed. “stay around yours tonight?”

It was very rare for you to spend the night with Ron. He was hardly ever home to sleep, but when he was, he made sure to tell you. Tonight, there was no indication that he’d even be there, but because of how shaken you were, he’d make sure he was by your side for as long as you wanted him to be. Everything between the pair of you was actually quite innocent, he was never rough or harsh with you. Even sex. He was a lot more gentle with you than he’d ever been with another human being in all his life. He didn’t ever want to cause you any harm.

“You don’t have to ask me.” He whispered before guiding you out of the club. His hand was secure around your own, gentle as he held you close.

“I know.. I just..” You looked up at the man. Smiling shyly because you knew that you didn’t have to voice your thoughts any further, you pulled your bottom lip in and stared down at the rocky pavement.

Ron was entirely too good to you. He was always so patient, understanding.. he was a meanie to most, but he was so sweet to you. Your heart hurt a lot of the time because you didn’t actually understand how it was possible to love someone so much.

The walk to his home was quiet. Reggie had stayed back behind at the club with Albie and he’d probably be there for another few hours, tending to what still needed to be finished. Your arms swung between the pair of you, voices soft when you’d talk, but for the most part you didn’t say too much. He wasn’t much of a talker unless he was mad and you weren’t much of a talker in general.

Ron slipped the key to the door in the slot before twisting it and unlocking the small house. Nudging the door open, he waited for you to step inside before he followed along behind. Shutting the door quietly, he locked it back before setting his keys on the little table in the corner. Drawing off his jacket, he hung it on the hooks that were nailed in the wall before he did the same to yours once you’d rolled it off your shoulders. Following you toward the flight of stairs, he let out a heavy grunt now and then, hands locked around the rails at he ascended the flight behind you.

The house was always warm. Cozy. And it smelled like honey and maple. You brushed your fingertips along the wallpaper, stroking the length of it with a lazy smile before you turned the handle and opened Ron’s door. Moving into the room, you brushed your hands off on your blouse before dropping down on the edge of his bed. He moved in directly behind you, closing the door the second he was inside. A little yawn left his lips, a sound that made you feel all gooey because he managed to make something so simple, so cute. The man pulled off his glasses and set them on the vanity in the corner before beginning to unbutton the front of his shirt. The material was stained with blood, splatters of it marking the fabric. He needed to put it in the wash as soon as possible because he didn’t have many white shirts. He let the fabric hang open, completely unbuttoned, leaving the front of his chest on display as he moved around the room. You bit your cheek softly, attempting to keep your eyes anywhere apart from the soft, muscular skin usually tucked away behind the thin material.

The bed was comfy as you adjusted yourself on the edge of it. It creaked beneath the shift in weight, drawing Ron’s attention to you. “Feeling alright, yeah, not too shaken up?” The man paused beside the vanity and used the two of one shoe to press against the heel of the other. Drawing off each of them, he kicked them into the corner before moving toward you. The space between your knees was barely visible, but Ron took it upon himself to kneel down in front of you and rest directly in front of your legs. “You know that I’d never let anybody hurt you?” He whispered. The words were comforting, they left you feeling giddy and warm. You nodded simply to his words before lifting your hands to his strong shoulders. Stroking them slowly, you studied your handsome boyfriend before leaning in and pressing a very light kiss to the tip of his nose.

“I know..” your voice was hardly audible.

“S’a bit weird. Going from a life where I didn’t really give anybody the time of day, yeah.. and now you’re here and I can’t seem to think about anything apart from you.” He murmured. Laying his hands on your sides, he used his broad body to wiggle himself forward and between your knees. You inhaled breathily, taking your time to open your legs and allow him to get as close as he possibly could. He locked you in a secure embrace, pink lips brushing along your chin. “I love you, you know, I’m.. I can’t think of what life would be like if I didn’t have you.”

“Quieter.” You joked with a giggle. Cupping his cheeks, you traced the underside of his eyes with your thumbs, admiring him and the little smile that tickled his lips. Ron let out a soft snort before pushing himself in even closer. Laying his head against your chest, he shut his eyes. “I love you too.” You responded after a few moments. Laying your hand on the back of his head, you brushed through his strands, caressing them before you shut your eyes and savored the moment.

“The Richardson’s, right, they think you’re just some.. toy that they can play with. I don’t want you ever letting any of them get too close. You call for me. Always. Alright? I’ll come running.” He frowned before drawing back so he could stare up at you. He wasn’t sure why you hadn’t shouted for him earlier, at the club, but he was sure it had something to do with a block being in your throat and your anxiety preventing you from calling out to him. He didn’t blame you. He just wanted to remind you. He was just a shout away. He stole a very gentle kiss before lifting himself up and off of the ground. “I need a shower, love, so you can stay here, mh? Or you can join me.” His eyes were honest, shimmering with his feelings as you scanned his gaze. He truthfully didn’t mind if you just wanted to lay down and get some rest, but he wasn’t surprised when you stood from the bed and locked your tiny form around his own, a sign that you were indeed joining him for a shower.

Ron couldn’t help the smile that agitatingly tugged at his lips. No matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t prevent the stupid twitch of his lips from happening. He led you out of the bedroom and into the door across the hall. The bathroom was so bright, but it was because everything inside was such a clean-colored white. Pristine. Ron leaned into the shower, twisting the nozzle so that the hot water fell from the showerhead. He drew off his shirt, tossing it into the dirty cloths basket in the corner before he got to work on his trousers. You were unmoving, fingers nervously fisting in the front of your blouse before you swallowed down the nerves and did your best to undress... but at a very very slow pace. Ron was in his boxers before you’d even wiggled out of your shirt. It was no secret that you liked for him to do the undressing because it somehow took the pressure off of you, so when you shrunk toward him, he asked no questions. His fingers curled in your blouse, rolling the material up and along your tummy before he drew it off of you completely and tossed it in the same bin. Beneath his stare of approval, you couldn’t help but grow just a little more confident. He leaned down, catching your lips in the middle for a slow kiss, as his hands fell to the zip on your skirt, pulling it down so you could shrug the material down and off of your hips and thighs. The pair of you were locked around each other before you could get out of your underwear, so Ron didn’t hesitate at all before scooping you up and into his arms as if you were nothing but a toddler. He cradled you with so much easy, strong hips steadying you as you wrapped your arms and legs around him like a monkey. He stepped under the hot water, allowing it to soak your underwear along with his own. He didn’t care. The fabric was getting washed anyway.

You fisted your hands in the back of his hair and pressed your lips, wet from the pouring water, against his own. Smiling into his gentle pecks, you let out a breathy hum before moving your face to the side so you could bury it into his neck. Throughout the course of the shower, he knew things would grow to be heated and the clothing that was still stuck to your bodies would eventually been discarded on the tile. Right now, he knew you just wanted to be held. Loved on. Protected. And he didn’t blame you in the slightest. He’d never let anyone or anything hurt you in anyway.. things had only happened earlier because Jack, of all people, had let the fucking men out and into the main portion of the club where they were not meant to be. Ron was going to be extra alert from now on. His hands brushed along your back, stroking it lazily as he stained the memory of your little form locked around his own in his brain. He never wanted to forget times like this.. they were so simple. So boring, probably. But they meant everything to him. It was such a private moment, one that he cherished. He’d never be able to voice how much he truly loved you because the words to describe something so indescribable just didn’t exist. But he loved you. That was the most he could say. He loved you. And he’d protect you forever.

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