Can be read as a standalone. "Can you check my heart?" - pt.3
Paring: Jack Glass x afab!Reader
Summary: How the rest of your lives play-out together after dating.
Warnings: I know hardly anything about boxing/competitive fighting. light swearing, protectiveness, and TON's of fluff. mentions of pregnancy.
A/N: a bit chaotic writing order but, *shrugs.*
Masterlist | Taglist Request | edited.
↳ You two are 100% one of those gym couples that post your workouts together. There is definitely a picture of you sat on his back while Jack does push ups or some spider-man style kiss. Susie posts comments grossed out about the two of you but threatens to kill Jack if he ends up breaking your heart
↳ In light of this, you and Jack take morning jogs together before "saving water" by showering together. You two fight over what music to play and before you know it- its an ice-shower that morning.
↳ Doing meal-prep together in the evening for the week as you talk with his trainer and new assistant for the recommended proteins and what snacks to keep inside your apartment meanwhile Jack is hiding in the bedroom snacking on your favourite cereal that he promises to buy you more of ("...as much want, baby.")
↳ Your apartment soon gets sold a few weeks into dating once Jack insists that he cannot sleep without having you in his arms. While moving in Jack insists on you only carrying the light boxes as he requests for some of Susie's men to help you unload your car
↳ Play-fighting on the couch for the remote or shoving one another side while playing Mario Kart. You both make everything a competition, even running to the car after work for who gets to drive or seeing who can be the cooler aunt/uncle with your nieces and nephews
↳ Date nights consist of planned dinners together every-other weekend and projector move nights of the ceiling above your bed. Going boating in the summertime before jumping into the water with you in his arms. Many hiking trips and late night drives before becoming cozy in the backseat.
↳ While out or meeting his friends, always introduces you as "his girl" as you go a bright red and shake their hands with a chuckle. (Soon everyone is getting sick of you two being "that couple.")
↳ Jacks nicknames for you include: doc, my girl, baby, and goblin (affectionately) after you woke up one morning seeking revenge, chasing his around the house with your pillow for him waking you up before your alarm went off.
↳ Your nicknames for Jack: jay, honey, sunshine (especially after a fight, he acts like he hates the nickname but not so secretly adores it).
↳ Jack always needs to have a physical connection to you, playing with your hair as you talk with some of your friends or family. Holding your hand as you pick out groceries together. Dancing with you in the kitchen- hands on your hips. Foreheads pressed against one another, meditating before a fight
↳ You are the first and last person he sees in every fight, you take him out of his adrenaline-filled state as you rub his muscles later that night before he rolls around and does the same for you.
↳ When you are for some reason unable to make a fight of his, you find flowers waiting for you on the kitchen counter and a small note to call him before and after the fight. ("need to remember who I am doing this for...").
↳ When you have been dating for awhile, you find yourself pregnant you are scared to tell Jack. He is in the prime of his career, you don't think he would want to settle down already and you hide yourself away. Staying at a friends house as Jack panics, thinking that you were gathering up the courage to break up with him
↳ Jack dresses more formally, a nice dress shirt and pair of jeans as he knocks at your best friends door, your favorite flowers and snacks in arms. You open the door, eyes puffy from crying so much as Jack drops everything, wrapping his arms around your waist as you tuck your head in underneath his chin.
↳ This man is ecstatic that you two are going to be parents, jumps up and down that the neighbours below the apartment make a complaint as Jack explains to them you are expecting.
↳ Susie gifts you designer baby clothes, insisting that it is going to be a girl, you all hope them to be a girl (but are more than perfectly fine with them being a baby boy, Jack wants to be a girl dad lets be real about that too).
↳ If it does end of being a boy, Jack is already readying you both to have a girl, man is willing to do anything to braid hair, play dress-up, trains his son to protect them from potential romantic interests
↳ You have to warn Jack about playing to hard with the kids as he races around the new backyard of your country side home on the same land of the Halstead estate as Susie and Eddie have become more interwoven in each others lives than ever before
↳ Jack did continue to box and you respected his decision, though you both did argue about joining him on the road as you refused to re-take your ringside position, wanting to spend time with the kids, picking them up after school, having meals together, going to the park. You did not want to miss a moment.
↳ When he would come home the kids were always waiting at the door for him by the sound of the car pulling into the driveway. Jack picked both of them up, one in each arm while pressing a kiss to your lips as they groaned out in disgust as Jack told them off. ("I love your mom, nothing to be grossed out about now.")
↳ When Susie offers to watch the kids, its as if no time has passed and you are back to that honeymoon stage. What shocked you most is when Jack got on one knee and proposed to you under fairy lights by the bayside. A small table and staff waiting on hand as they clapped and cheered happily for your engagement
↳ You had a beachside wedding as Jack carried you off into the sea as you screamed out your protests as every wedding guest ran to join you both. It was one of your favorite photos that hug above your shared bed as you sipped your tea, Jack coming out of the shower and placing a kiss to your shoulder before both kids bursted into the room, ready to join you both for the night.
Can be read as a standalone. "Can you check my heart?" - pt.2
Paring: Jack Glass x afab!Reader
Summary: You are a part of Jack's ringside team. When you both start to drift apart, Jack realizes how much he needs you and he's willing to do just about anything to have you stay close.
Warnings: 3000~ words, I know hardly anything about boxing/competitive fighting. Mutual pining, emotional angst, mentions blood and injury, light swearing, violence, protectiveness, jealousy, and fluff.
A/N: Kinda wrote more than I was expecting... lol.
Masterlist | Taglist Request | edited.
↳ You open Jack's apartment with a series of knocks, waiting a moment before unlocking the door. The brown paper bags, stuffed to the brim with his nutritional intake for the next two weeks burn your arms as you curse yourself out, an apple falling out of the bag, off your foot and rolling down the hallway as you set the bags down on the countertop and chase after it.
You heard a series of moans, the bed creaking and the headboard slamming against the wall and Jack groaning out praise after praise to the girls muffled cries. Rolling your eyes, you re-organize his fridge and call his meal-prep agent alongside the cleaner before leaving a note on the fridge that you were here. Locking the door back behind yourself, this was definitely nowhere near the first or last time you were highly aware of Jack's bedroom activities.
--
↳ At almost every team dinner, and even some where you thought to be a team dinner only to find Susie tipping her glass of red wine to you as Jack stood up to greet you with a kiss to your cheek, his newest date sitting down at the table- eyeing you up and down with disgust as you raised your chin and plopped yourself beside the Boxers sister rather than Jack himself.
↳ He often would vocalize when you stood to far away, talked with a team member for too long or didn't call him that day. You were used to his apparent clinginess, understanding of the tight relationship you had to form in order to take care of his welfare- or at least thats what you told yourself every night.
↳ Yet even after a break between fights, even when you did not put a plaster to his skin. Jack kept a box of kiddy band-aids in his travel bag or washroom, placing a colourful sticker to his skin as your eyes always fell to where-ever it was placed. Like clockwork, his date would ask why he wore such childish things and Jack would shrug his shoulders every time, casting an arm over the back of their chair, watching as their cheeks painted themselves pink and changed conversations.
--
↳ In the mornings you would rip the blinds and windows open to air out the room form the smell of sent and musk, his date would stumble out of the bed, face flushed and run towards the washroom- taking the dirty sheets with them as Jack would lean against his forearm, laying still against the headboard with a smile as he stared at your beauty in the morning light. How the rising sun wrapped around the curls of your hair like a halo. "Mornin'" he said in a sleepy tone as you shoved a cup of coffee and protein muffin into his hands you picked up on your way here. A separate pastry already sitting on the bedside for his date.
"Good morning Mr. Glass," you spoke in an even tone, in recent times you started to notice more and more how your eyes lingered on his back muscles that flexed during training as you sat on the sidelines, bag ready and waiting to treat any injuries. His date always sat beside you as you did your best to tune out their overwhelming stupidity towards the sport. Your heart would race every time he would pull you into a deep hug after every victory no matter how big or small. Or the rush of blood to your face whenever he called out by one of his nicknames for you.
Susie had also made comments as she surprised you one day, bottle open from your wine storage as two glasses were freshly poured and waiting on your coffee table. She swirled her glass, asking if you and her brother were anything more, warning you against any further steps. You respected Susie, being a women in such an industry was a sight to behold no matter how many times Jack turned you away from any extra violence his family was starting to become known for. You promised her nothing would ever happen as she shook your hand to that.
So you called Jack by his last name, giving him a title to set yourself apart. You stopped giving him your colourful plasters, walked faster in front of the man and sat across from him in the car so that his tired head would no longer sleep against your shoulder in the car. You felt his stares as you moved away from him yet you did not know of his heartache.
Pulling yourself back from into the present as the toilet flushed and the girl poked her head out, already looking towards you with a guilty look, you poked inside Jack's closet, presenting her with a t-shirt of his and her pants from the floor as the door closed one again. "Are you staying for breakfast?" Jack asked with a small voice, taking another snip of his coffee.
You looked down at your watch, cursing out as you tapped your foot against the hardwood floors, paying no mind to his question- you were dead-set into work-mode. "You have training at the Halstead estate in forty minutes. I need her out of here in the next ten and you in the car in under twenty."
"Do I get a reward for being quicker than that?" Jack teases, stretching out as his bones crack, sheets sliding off his lap as you begin your swift departure out of the room. You stop for a moment, door open as you cast your chin over your shoulder, "No, but it would make your clients happier," and with that you close the door behind yourself and make your way towards the lobby.
Jacks manager eyes you up and down with a raised brow, "You alright?" He asks concerned as you shake yourself out and scroll through your emails, forwarding a few to the man, "Yes, I should be," you state while hopping into the passengers seat, giving the driver a smile as the passengers board in the back, the wheels turning into the city streets.
--
Everyone on the team had seen the physical and emotional changes to their fighter as you spent less and less time with him. Those daily calls now weekly check-in's, you only saw one another in the ring and during practice. He was more stoic his once charming personality on camera now sharp words and stares much like his fighting style. He threw heavier punches, anger coating his features as he did not care for himself- smiling at the pain knowing that you would come and see him afterwards.
You stood, bandages in hand, sadly not coloured as you taped his face and adjusted his nose. His blood dripped down your hands as he picked up the cooling towel from around his shoulders and started to dry the blood off your hands, hating to see the way it stained your skin yet you pulled away, slamming a water bottle in his face while taking a step back for his trainer to give pointers once more. Jacks gaze was set on you as he nodded to the notes, you held his gaze before slipping under the ropes and back down to ringside.
Susie flashed you a smile as you gave her own of your own, leaning back in a chair as you smiled soon turned into a series of winces as Jack pummelled his opponent into the mat, slamming fist after fist right in front of where you both were sat.
His nose was beyond repair, front teeth missing as his opponent began chocking on his own blood. The ref called for the match to be over, pulling Jack off the broken and bruised to victory. Jack relished the cheers before casting his gaze towards you, his glove pointed outwards as his mouth piece hanged out the corner of his mouth.
Susie stood up, walking in front of you and into the ring as you moved towards the locker room to prepare your gear. You winced as the other boxer was wheeled out to an awaiting ambulance beside you. Zipping open your bag, you set up your scissors tape and chemicals before pulling up a chair to the centre of the room.
Jack waltzed his way in, and spun himself into the chair before you, his gloves raised with a smirk as you made work of them. Slipping them off, handing the red gloves to his sister who placed them carefully into the bag at the side. You leaned over Jack's face, applying chemicals with cotton swabs as you grasped his chin, tipping his face to ensure you gathered every scrape.
Your gaze followed the sweat still slipping off his forehead, down his chin and neck, down towards his abs that flexed with every breath he took. You noticed a small cut to the right side of his chest as you stepped in between his extended legs and gently pressed against the area, wrapping the bandage around his shoulder with gentle hands.
Just as you were about to step away, Jack looped his fingers through your belt loops and pressed his forehead to your shoulder as he grounded himself to the sound of your breaths. "Mr. Glass, I have told you not to overexert yourself, you had by far the judges opinion at the half-way mark, there was no need to push yourself so far. It could lead to injuries, taking you out of the ring for months if you do this too much like you have..."
You feel sympathy for the man before you, feeling as his hands shake at your hips before you start to comb your fingers through his hair. He moans out at the contact, pressing his face further into your stomach as you blush and look around the room to here his date stood. You quickly flash your eyes between her and the top of Jacks head as she receives the message and starts to make her way towards you both.
Once she is stood just behind you, you slip away as she replaces you just as quickly. Upon the first touch, Jacks eyes flash open as he raises his head, standing up tall as the girl steps away, confused. You have your back turned, zipping your bag closed as Jack stalks up behind you. "Mr. Glass whatever is the matter?-"
"The matter," Jack chews the words, spitting them right back in your face with a glare. "The matter is you. It is Jack to you, not fuckin' Mr. Glass. Now do tell me, what did I do? Or whatever fucker made you act this way?"
Your eyes go wide, this is the first time Jack had ever raised his tone with you as you clench your bag to your front in a way to protect yourself. Adrenaline was still strong in his system, only fuelling his anger. His muscles flex as he restrains himself yet as the girl from behind him takes a step forward and your eyes dart over to her own in a sorry for this, I don't quite know whats going on look. He presses his hands either side of your head against the wall of lockers, ensuring your attention remains on him.
"Mr. Glass this is highly inappropriate," you speak out while looking at him dead in the eyes. "It. Is. Jack. Now tell me, who?" His one presses forward as you hear multiple footsteps exit the room, the tension eating away all the oxygen in the room as they stand for air. You shake your head, "It was never you Jack..."
His forehead now leans against his own as he asks you again in a lighter tone, pleading. "Then who made us act this way?"
"I-I can't say-" He pulls away hands dropping from the sides of your head and onto your shoulder as he realizes the panic set in your eyes, his heart aching in newfound pain.
"Was it my manager, my trainer, Audrey..." he searches your eyes for clues as he lists every name he knows, "... my sister?" BINGO, you cast your eyes away, looking at her guilty as she stands, shoulders straight and tall, glancing between your both. You close your eyes, Jack presses a kiss to your cheek as your signature blush finds its way back across your cheeks as you allow yourself to fall to the bench underneath you.
Jack walks across the room, daggers in his eyes as he stares down his sister, "Why." He states rather than asks as Susie meets his gaze with an equally hard one, "You are a professional, Jack. We cannot be mixing vices-"
"They were never one of those to me-"
"Well you fucking might as well treated her like one- or actually less than that, making her hear every time you came when she took care of every one of your other needs. Forcing her to attended non "work-related" dinners with another woman on your arm..." she continued to list as you let your dip, his current date no where to be scene as guilt started to consume you for making such a mess.
Susie continued, "I was doing what I thought best to protect two of my friends, seemingly from one another." You shake your head in your hands, overwhelmed with emotions, you were upset with yourself, with Jack for how his outburst and with Susie for having one foot on the right side and another in the wrong.
Jack kneels in front of your from as Susie leaves the room to let the two of you be. He removes your hands from your face, holding them in his own. "Did you really feel that way? Like I used you?" Jack asked in a featherlight tone, voice warm and comforting in comparison to his earlier tones.
"Jack, I know you are my boss. You are my work in the end ad whatever silly little feelings I had could never be anything more. Sure I hated see you with those other women, hated waking up every morning to walk into a room with your dick wet in another woman. I was always holding you so close and yet we were also so far away from one another. Susie made me realize how toxic I was being to myself, holding out for something that wasn't right and... I distanced myself to what a relationship like ours should look like."
Jack nods his head, maintaining focus to your every word as he wipes away your tears with a fresh towel from your bag. You laugh internally, realizing how the roles have been reversed just as another cry escapes between your lips to Jack's next words.
"I'm sorry for making you feel this way. I... I wanted you- want you so bad but everyone around me said that I would end up losing you- making me think that I was never good enough for you. So I tried to get rid of these pent of feelings, these emotions and every time I was with someone- could only see small features of them I liked that reminded me of you... it was always you in my head, giving me something to fight for, fight myself for..." Jack takes a deep intake, his hands now playing with your own as he intertwines your fingers together.
"...I never want you far, can't function without you, fuck- I fucking love you for lack of better words." You both chuckle out through your own tears, arms wrapped around one another as you sit in the dirty locker room. "I love you too, Jack. Even when its not good for me," you whisper into his hair, soaking in his touch after so long apart.
"But if this is going to work, you need to promise me a few things," you state, gripping his shoulders, feeling him press a light kiss to your neck. "Anything to keep this," he gives you a light squeeze as you shake your head at his corniness. "I know you secretly love it, doc."
"No more hook-ups, no more overexerting yourself, and no more "work-related dinners." I am getting your manager to hire you a new assistant," Jack nods his head to every demand. "Your wishes are to be fulfilled, but you are stayin' ring side right?"
"Of course, Jack," you say, pressing a coloured plaster to the back of his neck. It has various puppy-dogs sitting on a hill together. Jack chuckles feeling as you brush his hair back into place with the small claim again. "I miss these."
"How'd you know I placed one?"
"Something in me clicked into place." You groaned out at this comment, doing your best to pull away as you jokingly gaged. Jack picks you up as you quickly latch your arms around his neck as he walks you both out towards the car. A bright smile casting over his features as the rest of the staff members pack the gear away in the boot.
Summary: You are part of Mr. Glass's ringside team as a corner/cut man. You care for his wellbeing, prepare him for every fight, and act as an assistant outside of the ring. With all this time spent together- you both appear inseparable but as Jack puts it... your time together is always work-based... right?
Warnings: I know hardly anything about boxing/competitive fighting. Mutual pining, emotional angst, mentions blood and injury, light swearing, violence, protectiveness, jealousy, and fluff.
A/N: I am actually flabbergasted at the lack of gifs, edits, and pictures there are online of this man- your author here was scrambling for todays mood board. Thank you for the ask @gee72sstuff !!
Masterlist | Taglist Request | edited.
↳ You had been scouted and subsequently recruited to Mr. Glass's team only a mere months ago from an opposing boxer. Jack's trainer insisted that your hands worked magic and now, you had more than sufficiently proved that point.
The bell had rung, the round ending and you only had a few minutes until Jack would be called back to the centre, various voices yelled and cheered around as you stepped through ropes and leaned down in front of a sitting Jack. He eyes were set cold and dark over your shoulder into the other corner, his shoulders were tense as he breathed heavily.
Taking your hands, you raised his arms and set them atop your shoulders before gripping his jaw to inspect his face over for any cuts or scrapes as you made haste of applying the chemicals. He did not wince or stir once as you counted down the minutes in your head and focused on your work unknowing to the small smirk casting over his features.
The boxer opened his mouth, leaning forwards and trying to brush your foreheads against once another yet you pulled back as he scoffed and looked at you in the eyes before you shined a light in his pupils, checking for a concussion after the rather nasty hit he sustained at the end of the round. Blinking rapidly afterwards you patted his shoulders, grossing yourself out instantly by the sweat that now coated over your palms.
With a minute left, you raised his gloves off your shoulders, "Focus up, trainer has some pointers," you shouted over restless fans as Jack provided a firm nod and you slipped back through the ropes. Taking a seat near the commentators, your knee bunched anxiously, mixed anxiety and adrenaline pounding in your ears just as a clear glass of ice and liquor was waved in your face, a few droplets spewing on your pants.
Flicking your eyes over, Susie Glass sent you a smile as you took the drink, chugging it down before placing it on the table behind your chairs as the next round started. "Thanks for that- needed it," you said while wiping your mouth with a new towel from your bag. "I could tell," she said, eyes focused on the match as you did the same.
Jack slammed his glove into his opponents jaw, blood spewing out onto the canvas below as you both stood up, fists raised in a cheer, the ref kneeled beside the downed boxer, the crowd chanted as you started to make your way ringside for a potential early closing of the round, equipment bag slung over your shoulder as the trainer bumped their shoulder with your own with a large smile.
The man kneeled into a stand with a slight wobble as the ref checked them over before signalling for the round to start once more. Jack bounced up and down, feet dancing around as he took a shot to his shoulder as you winced hands now gripping the warn leather strap of your bag as it made indents into your palms. Jack proceeded to duck around a combination of swing before slamming a body shot into his opponents side, the bell ringing a few moments later as you jumped into the corner.
Allowing the trainer their time with Jack, you took a stand at his side, hands casting over his shoulder as you assessed the bruising and placed an icepack gently to the hit. You brought a water bottle filled with electrolytes from your bag, using your other hand to help him take small sips before you both were called out of the ring for the final round.
Your eyes kept flicking between the clock and Jack as you took your seat back beside his sister who now gripped your arm, her bright acrylic nails digging into your arm as she squeezed every time Jack narrowly missed a hit. You cursed out, watching as a small cut appeared on Jack's cheek, blood dripping and falling off his cheek as you prepared your medical supplies, mindlessly taking a quick sip form his water bottle as mouth became dry in panic.
"That was fucking gross," Susie calls from beside you as you snap your head towards the ring instinctively, now further injuries you could see as you swing your head towards Susie who stares down at you, thirty seconds left on the clock. "What was?" you questioned with a raised brow, hands now blindly searching around the bag for were your scissors went. "You just drank out of the same bottle," she deadpans as you shrug your shoulders.
"We share food and drinks all the time, hardly any difference," you state before running back to Jacks corner as the final bell has rung, Susie hot on your heels as Jack raises his hands up in victory. Eyes searching over the crowd before finding his team, sending you a wink that you just barley catch.
You bend over the ropes, you quickly lead Susie through the various guards, reporters and photographers alike towards her brother before trying to slip back through the crowd. Jack hastily grasps your arm, wrapping it around your shoulder before slinging his other arm over your waist as you crash into his chest. Your nose scrunches up in disgust as Jack chuckles above you, his breathing starting to even out in pace as yours only speeds up, cheeks a flushed pink before Jack allows you to pull away.
Susie looks towards her brother with a raised brow as Jack tilts his head, preforming nonchalance as both his manager and trainer lead you all back down the hall and into the locker room. Your endgame schedule follows out as scheduled, Jack holding up his gloved in front of your face with warm eyes as you smile and gently pull them off for him, setting them in a nearby duffle bag before inspecting his hands thoroughly as his trainer begins an ice bath in the back.
Jack's manager and Susie stand with the bodyguards by the door, speaking in hushed tones as they talk money and bets. You pick Jacks left hand up, eyes casting over every knuckle and finger, asking him to extend each once before flipping his hand around and repeating the same actions for his other hand.
The boxer loves this moment, the peace of having you play with his bruised hands and features without a care in the world but your touch against his skin. Black latex gloves now cover your hands as you carefully pull away each bandage and fix every cut, scrape, and bruise to the best of your ability. His trainer places his hands on the back of your chair as you add the finishing touches alongside your favorite part, the infamous kiddy plaster you place against one of his knuckles- a symbol of your work. You open the options, and choose an astronaut themed band-aid as a giggle escapes your mouth as you pat it down onto his hand.
Jack picks up your finished work, inspecting it with a chuckle himself before helping you to stand and leading you towards his sister. "Good fight, Jack," Susie states, inspecting over your work with a satisfied hum. "Thanks sis, great work doc- as usual," he teases as you swerve away from another hug, stepping out into the hall as Jack starts to undresses at the sound of the door closing behind his sister and sets himself to bathe and shower.
You then go into assistant mode, walking alongside his manager towards the end of the hall as you book a car and set a reservation at a nearby restaurant in the downtown core. As you press close on the call and switch your runners into heels, using the wall for support, you stumble forward at the call of your name from down the hall as you spin around to face the opponents manager with a professional smile and extended hand.
Much to your surpass they rotate your hand, bending down and pressing a kiss to the back of your hand as you look to your side, seeing the stressed look of Jack's current manager eyeing you both, eyes flickering down the hall in a panic as you pull your hand away, smile tightening into a thin line. "Is there something you wish to talk about?" you cut straight to business as they send up a smirk, standing tall and fixing their suit jacket.
"Yes there is something, maybe it is better to be discussed behind close doors, I have a... proposition for you-" heavy footsteps come crashing down the hall before stopping beside you, a hand now rests on your lower back. Jack casts a charismatic smile their way, arm flexing under the letter-jacket he wears as clear your throat. "What's going on here, love?" Jack asks sarcastically, "Nothing much, just a potential new job..." you trail off, tipping your head up to his face, "Really now?" he raises an eyebrow. "Yes really, now if you can excuse us both, I have an offer to listen to, Mr. Glass. You have a dinner booked with lovely Susie here and the Duke of Halstead- he sends his praises on todays fight. I forwarded the email a few minutes ago, it should be in your inbox alongside the meeting notes with your manager later this evening. Your apartment has also been cleaned, there are a set of roses on your nightstand from Miss. Audrey."
Jack lets you go, placing a hand to his heart as he mocks heart yet by the hardness in his eyes, some of it stands true. "Ouch, Doc. Last name basis now and everything- I think you need to check my heart, might be a bit broken after that." You shake your head, flicking his forehead before walking down the hall, you don't make it far before Jack calls after you both, "Come meet us for dinner after you are done here, I need you to check over some stuff..."
"We will call tomorrow, Jack. Have a goodnight," and with that Jack watched you turn around the corner as Susie pulls his attention back. "What was that all about?"
"Nothing," Jack states with a huff before leading his sister into the awaiting car.
“ you're cute when you're tired. “ “ i'm always cute. “ for any of the 111th…putting fate in your hands 🤫
PERSONALITY ; officer glass x reader
summary: new bitter exhausted clone trooper oc dropped! get 'im while he's sleepy!
a/n: who knows!!! maybe we will get glass art this weekend, who knows!!!! but here's some new content for the 111th's growing roster! enjoy some,,, lore, too.
Glass can be a difficult man.
Sorry — Officer Glass. God forbid you make that mistake again. Just when you think you manage to form some sort of friendly, working relationship with the 111th's resident intelligence officer, you're left scrambling when he inevitably gets icy.
Like stab you with said icicle icy.
The Umbra, always looming in the airspace above the main battalion, is home-base for Mantle Squadron — under Captain Hart's orders, they worked directly with Republic Intelligence. More often than not, Mantle is responsible for keeping the players on the sabacc board straight while command kept their boots on the ground.
They're good at their job; in all honesty, they left little room for you to do your job.
Actually, scratch that.
Officer Glass left little room for you to do your job.
You'd never asked how Glass managed to earn his name — or even if he had picked it himself. Frankly, it's too fitting to consider an alternative. No doubt, the cruelly cold manner with which he handles most interactions inside (and outside) of the battalion made the name stick.
(And yet, there he was in interrogations as easy as ever. Terrifyingly adjustable. Constantly swinging, like a pendulum, between nice and horrifying.)
He's different from the other members of the 111th you knew. Even Second Lieutenant Razor, with all the swirling rumors surrounding him, is a treat compared to Glass. And you'd had at least three people tell you Second Lieutenant Razor had unlawfully executed prisoners of war on two separate occasions. Imagine that. What a fuckin' picture that paints.
As you stand outside the lower-level holding cell's security checkpoint, you check your chronometer.
He's late.
It gives you time to figure out how you're going to navigate this interaction with him — be it chaste flirts or steady silence. You can't help the bite of annoyance that settles in your chest. You knew, really, that at the end of this interrogation you'll be walking away with the same feeling you always do: longing.
Kirrii, one of your fellow Intelligence Officers and a close confidant, laughed in your face when you'd quietly admitted you had a new found admiration for the man — her lekku swatted side to side in the dark of your quarters as she shook her head and clicked her tongue.
"Please don't tell me it's his personality," she had chirped.
Maybe it was.
Eugh. It always is the personality, isn't it? At the end of the day, there are thousands of genetically identical troopers aboard this ship, even more with their boots in the Felucian mud — and every time, it's always the personality. Awol with the flirtatious charm, Hart with the swooning kindness — hell, the Commander with his genuine warmth? Even the battalion's CMO, as crass and ridiculous and loud and bombastic as he was, had quiet admirers.
The Fett genes were just an added bonus, you suppose.
You reach and rub the bridge of your nose.
With one long exhale, you decide that if Glass isn't here in the next five minutes, you'll go in alone — after all, this asset was high priority. An immigrated farmer from off-world. She'd been caught providing information to the Separatist Alliance. Her recent leak had ended in an ambush that had killed thirty men on the Southern line.
The order for answers had come down from Nyx himself — a rare show of controlled rage. Hart approved the interrogation. Republic Intelligence was vested in her motive. You and Glass had received the order about three hours ago.
He was off-shift.
The lift doors chime at that moment — and you lift your eyes from your datapad to see the Officer in question.
You have to hide a grin.
It's out of courtesy, really, as he nears in five long strides. His uniform is specific to his role — bridging the gap between soldier and spy, which his pistol strapped neatly to his hip and thigh. The black uniform, complete with gauntlets and minimal armor plating, is his usual day-to-day garb. However, you take careful note of the mismatched button halfway down his chest and the way his usual starched-to-intimidating-perfection uniform has a few more creases than normal.
You step in-front of him before he can tap his wrist to the door's panel.
Glass blinks at you. Heavy lashes narrow critically. His brown eyes seem darker in the low-light of the holding wing, like cold obsidian coins. Pretty nonetheless. There's a habitual snarl on his lips.
When your own pristinely white gloves reach to adjust the top button of his collar, he goes rigid. You see his Adam's apple bob. You're surprised when he lets you fix the uniform — even more-so surprised with yourself.
There's stubble along his jaw. His intricate buzzcut has gotten longer than he usually lets it.
"Enough," he snaps, his patience worn when you finally loop the last clasp; his voice is rough. He leans to tuck his datapad beneath his arm and smooth down his jacket, "I just woke up."
"I could tell," you croon, turning on your heel as you gesture for him to buzz you both in, "How cute."
"Cute?"
The grumble is so quiet you almost don't hear it. It's under his breath, uttered to the quiet dark. You're closer to the ship's engines down here. You wonder if he hopes the sound of space will swallow up his apparent offense at the compliment.
