24/7 Clone Simp

— If needed trigger warnings will be listed at the start of story and in tags

— Angst will always find its way into any fic of mine. Its my tragic flaw honestly.

— Din Djarin first name will always be Din. Fight me.

— A lot of married couple fanfics.

WHAT I'LL NEVER WRITE ABOUT:

— Drug use

— No dark themed fics; r*pe, underage, incest and so on.

— Cheating / affairs

*I will not reblog any age gap fics either

I support writers by rebloging their content

I will reblog fics that do mention drinking alcohol, but not drug use. Such fics will come with a trigger warning.

🪐 = favourite TBB works

✨ = favourite The Mandolarion works

🍄 = favourite TLOU works

You had watched him stick the landing, you knew there was no debris around him when his feet meet the water below, which left you baffled as to why he’s burying his face in his hands as strangled breaths echo off the walls of the garbage compactor.

His fingernails begin to leave red crescent shaped marks on the side of his nose and you cursed yourself for being so blind. You’re surrounded by garbage, there’s so many smells, all different but just as strong. Too strong for his enchanted senses. His helmet had fallen off during the tumble down the chute and was floating through the murky water, useless.

“What can I do?” You asked helplessly, “What do you need?” When all he replied with was your name, you frowned, “Yes?”

He shook his head, “No, I need, kriff-,” He pulled you down by the buckle of your pants, your knees hitting the water hard but before you could even begin to wince in pain, Hunter's head was buried in your neck. You could feel his nostrils flare, hear the sharp intake of air he breathed in, “I need you.”

Oh

You tilt your head to the side, allowing him easier access to your skin and he breathed it in greedily. Hunter pressed in closer to you, almost knocking you back into the water. In all the missions you’ve been on, Hunter’s senses have never brought him to his knees like this before.

“I can do more,” You promised, voice barely above a whisper, “Tell me what you need and I’ll do it.”

“Tech, Wrecker,” He gasped out, “Comm them.”

Right, of course. That should've been your first thought. Your hand reached down to your comm and wrapped around… nothing.

“Kriff!” You swore, hand reaching for Hunter’s belt.

“Cyare,” His body tensed under your touch, “I-I lost mine when we fell.”

You pulled away from, his head no longer buried in your neck but now framed by your hands. Your thumb caught a stray tear which made another one fall. The sight broke your heart.

“I’ll get us out.” You carefully leaned him against one of the compactor’s walls, the water chest high on him now, more of his skin being soaked and your anger towards Wrecker and his incompetence to figure out a damn map is high.

You sighed. It’s not Wreckers fault. He was doing his best in a situation he wasn’t prepared for and wasn't properly shown how to read the imperial ship's blueprint when Tech had been called away to fix something important on the ship. Wrecker did his best and you hope the rest of the Batch will not let the largest clone take blame for something that isn’t his fault.

You stood in front of the door, metal and rust trapping you in. You wrapped both hands around the cold handle and pulled. When the door didn’t open or even move an inch, you let out a cry of frustration and pounded your fist against it. Hard enough to split the skin on the side of your hand open.

“Stop!” Hunter called out, wincing at the loudness of his own voice and you immediately halted all movements. He’s looking your way but his eyes are narrowed in, unseeing as he focused on drowning out all sense but one.

Then, after a few quiet heartbeats, warning alarms blared through the compactor and the red light above the door started blinking. The hum of the compactor was next and your heart dropped in horror.

“Hunter, you have to get up!” You screamed, splashing your way over to him, water splashing high enough to irritate the cut on your hand, making you hiss but you pay no attention to it.

He shook his head, eyes scrunched shut, “I can’t.. the smell, the taste– it’s too much,” A broken whine left the man, “Please.”

His body jerked forward when the wall behind him began to close in. Behind you the opposite wall followed suit.

“You can,” You said, knees sinking in the water again, hands falling onto Hunter’s shoulders, “You can and you will. You don’t get to give up, you don’t get to die on your brothers, on Omega,” You leaned down to press your forehead against his, “Do whatever you have to do to block out-,”

“Kiss me.”

You blinked, reeling back from him, mouth suddenly dry. It’s not that you don’t want to kiss him, in fact it’s the exact opposite; you’ve yearned to feel his lips against yours. Dreamt of having his body pressed against you during the nights. Of exploring Puba’s waterside hand in hand.

There’s so many things you’ve imagined doing side by side with him. Dying wasn’t one of them. Being his distraction for a chance of survival wasn’t one of them.

You don’t want to take what you can get, because you deserve more than that.

But you also don’t want Hunter’s family to mourn over a death that you possibly can prevent.

With the slightest nod of your head, Hunter is rushing forward, his mouth soft and seeking against yours, fingers digging into the label of your jacket like a lifeline.

After a few seconds you pulled back enough to speak, “I need to know if this is a distraction on your part. Because for me, this is real. I want you Hunter, but not as a toy for you to tune out-,”

“No,” Hunter growled, eyes darkening, “Never, not you. I want you, ner kar’ta. All of it, everything. I never knew I could feel like this, that’s not what clones were programmed for. When I met Cut and his wife I thought, maybe, if I was fortunate enough, I could have what he has. Someone to love.”

“Hunter-,”

He shook his head, cutting you off, “I love you. I have for a while and I’m so sorry I never told you.”

“I’d rather you tell me now, than to die without knowing. I love you Hunter. I love your siblings. Travelling with you all has been the best decision of my life. I don’t regret any of it.”

As soon as the words were out of your mouth his lips were back on yours, not as desperate, more reassuring if anything. You yield under his touch, letting him lead the kiss. There’s small puffs of air tickling your upper lip as he breathed in your scent and exhaled sharply, repeating the action again and again.

The walls scraped loudly across the floor causing Hunter to shiver and even with your eyes closed, you could see the way his ears twitched at the sound.

Then it stopped, all of it. The walls, the kissing, the pain grunts that Hunter isn’t able to hold back. It’s completely silent, then a voice cut through the quietness.

“The door is unlocked, get your arses out of there.”

“Wrecker!” You laughed, “Am I ever glad to hear your voice.”

“Me too, ad’ika,” His voice is soft, “Now get out before the imps lock me out of their system. Oh, and congrats guys!”

Hunter hid his face in your shoulder and mumbled, “Thanks Wrecker.” He pulled back, eyes locking with yours, “Let’s get the kriff out of here cyar’ika.”

Echo

“Remind me again why you thought this was a good idea?” You asked, awkwardly balanced on top of Echo's shoulders as you attempted to open the door latch on the ceiling.

His hand held your legs close to his chest as his scomp rested against your lower back so you won’t fall off his shoulders, “You thought the idea was good too.”

“Yeah because it was either this or getting shot,” You pointed out, cursing when your second attempt at opening the circular escape door failed, “And I do not want to get shot again.”

“It was an accident!” Echo huffed, fingers tightening around your legs momentarily as if the memory of your blood caused by his own hands would pull both of you under the murky water beneath his feet, “And you promised not to hold it against me.”

“Yeah, well that was before I was stuck in a garbage compactor,” You banged a fist against the door, a yell of frustration leaving your lips, “It’s rusted shut.”

Echo sighed, bending at the knees to allow you to slide off his shoulders. When finding your footing in the slippery water proves to be a challenge, Echo is quick to pull you against his chest, steadying you, “It’ll be okay, Tech will find us.”

“And if he doesn’t?” You asked, face hiding in the crook of his neck, “Then what? We get crushed to death like a pile of trash?”

He ran a soothing hand down your arm, “It could be worse.”

“How?!”

His voice fell into a teasing note, the mirth of it almost misplaced in your current situation, “You could be stuck with Crosshair instead of me.”

“Suddenly getting shot doesn't look so bad,” You teased back, drawing in closer to the clone as you quietly admitted, “I’m glad it’s you.”

“Me too.” He breathed, head resting on top of yours before tilting your head up to meet his eyes.

You’ve been on a few dates, nothin fancy; it’s hard to pull an all-star date when you’re running from the Empire but you honestly wouldn’t have it any other way. You’ve never met anyone like Echo, never met someone who makes your heart race by just standing next to them.

He’s different from any clone you’ve met before. Wounded but never broken. That was your first impression of him all those years ago. When you rescued him from Skako Minor, watching as he cracked a joke with Rex, smiling brightly at the older clone.

You fell for him and you fell hard.

The water licks at your knees as it ripples ever the slightest, a warning alarm goes off in the background, a loud reminder of how this ends. You watch a flick of guilt flash in Echo’s eyes and really hope Tech is able to find you before you’re crushed to death.

The guilt that is consuming the man holding you tightly is a guilt you want to chase away. So you do. You rush forward until your lips meet his. The kiss is fast, messy, verging on the side of painful as teeth scrape across your bottom lip. His fingers leave bruises against your hip and your lungs begin to ache for a breath.

If you are to die here in this trash compactor at least you're dying with the man you want to spend the rest of your life with.

He’s backing you up against the wall, the one you know is going to start closing in on you and him. The one that will be your inevitable death. At the moment you can’t find yourself to care about that as your lips slide perfectly against his, moans filling the room as your lips separate long enough to suck in a lung full of air before resuming the kiss.

You're not sure what compelled you to switch your positions, slamming his back against the wall as your chest pressed against his, lips reconnecting in a bruising kiss. You realise how well your body fits against his.

His hand squeezed your hip before trailing up your side, inches away from your breast when suddenly your comm link beeped and Tech's voice filled the room: “Please refrain from any sexual activities as Hunter is about to break through the door.”

Your face flushed and you dipped your head down in an attempt to hide it. Going by Echo’s chuckle you failed miserably. With a groan you asked: “What kind of garbage compactor has camaras?”

Wrecker

The smell of garbage clogged your nose as you stare mildly annoyed at Wrecker, “I have never found myself stuck in an imperial garbage compactor with any of the other Batch.”

“Eh, I guess that’s what makes me special.” The clone shrugged, like your current situation is only a minor setback.

That earned him an exasperated huff, “Alright Mr. Special, how are we going to get out of this one?”

His face scrunched up, the scar tissue across his nose reflects the compactor’s red light and you have a strong urge to run your finger over the scar, “Don’t suppose there’s anything in here to make a bomb do ya?”

“Unless nuggets have suddenly become explosive, it doesn't look like it.” You splash the half-bitten nugget aside before re-searching the room for a way out.

Wrecker frowned and joined you in finding a way out. Moments passed in silence before Wrecker couldn’t handle the quietness. He leaned against the wall across from you and smiled, “At least we’re not crowded.”

The wall behind him screeched loudly and Wrecker’s body jerked forward with the sudden moment of the rusted metal. The floor began to vibrate knocking you off your feet and into the dirty water beneath you.

It’s beyond disgusting and your temper began to rise, “You just had to go and say something!”

“How was I supposed to know that was going to happen?!” He exclaimed, looking around the room for anything to help stop the walls from closing in.

Figuring since you’re already soaked and on your knees you'd best start blinding feeling around in the water hoping to find anything useful, “Let’s just figure out how to get out of here before we’re flattened like a pancake.”

Wrecker made a noise of agreement and busied himself with different attempts at preventing the walls from closing in. A minute passed with no success. Wrecker threw aside a long pipe that split in half and before you could stop him, his arms were spread out wide, palms pressing against both walls.

The walls yielded and you both breathed a breath of relief, only in the next blink of an eye, Wrecker cried out in pain as the walls scraped against the floor.

His arms started shaking in protest of being used in such manner but he gave you a wide smile and said, “You’d be a pretty pancake.”

You couldn’t fight back the snort that left your mouth, which earned you a satisfied grin from the clone. You blushed, his eyes darkening at the pretty pink across your cheeks. You shook your head, “What about you?”

His smile turned bashful, “No one would be looking at me, mesh’la.”

“You’re wrong,” You cupped his cheek, fingers brushing against his scars, something you’ve found yourself wanting to do for the last few weeks. His skin is raised from the scar tissue but it’s incredibly soft, “I would be.”

“Just lookin’?” He asked, elbows bending as the pressure of the walls became too much, while his head pressed further into your hand, eyes closing with a gentle sigh.

“Why would I stop doing what I love?” Your hands trailed down both of his arms until they wrapped around his wrist, giving them a squeeze, “Let go Wrecker.”

There’s sweat gathering at his temple and his eyes are frantic in the wake of your words, voice unsteady, “No, I.. I won’t let you get hurt! I can do this.”

“Wrecker, even with your enhanced bone density, you can’t stop the inevitable. I know you, you’ll keep going until your arms break... Then how would you hold me?” You gave him a half pleading and half coy look before sobering up, “You’re scared, so am I. All I ask is to know the feeling of your arms around me. Please, love, let go.”

His arms fell to the side, his posture, which was rigid, deflated to a defeated stance. You want to say something, anything, but the walls closing in faster would only drown out your voice. You’re not strong enough to speak anything louder than a whisper.

Wrecker must have understood, his voice loud enough for the both of you as he asked, “Any regrets?”

The corner of your mouth drew up and you held up a finger, eyes falling to the plush of Wrecker’s lips, in answer. Wrecker’s chest raised with a deep breath before exhaling slowly. He brought your hand up to his face, gently placing a kiss on the finger still held up. His breath is a warm comfort against your skin, “Me too, me too.”

Don’t die with regrets. That’s what people always say. A part of you is afraid to add to the regrets but that doesn’t stop you from leaning up to kiss Wrecker.

It was quick, a fierce burst of longing, barely able to capture the taste of Wrecker when he pulled back, “I love you. I wish I told ya sooner.”

He looked almost fearful, like he’s expecting you to push him away and you’re not going to allow that. You fall further into his embrace, lips crashing against his once more and he sunk into it immediately.

Tech

The horrible screeching of rusted metal sliding across the floor was the only warning you got before you found yourself watching in horror as the walls on either side of you started closing in.

“That is not ideal.” Tech stated, fixing his goggles as his brown eyes flicker from the wall back to his datapad, reading whatever is displayed on his screen, “That is not good.”

“Understatement of the century,” You huffed, grimacing as the dirty water splashed your legs and soaked your pants, “I thought you said the compactor wasn’t scheduled for another hour!”

Tech turned the datapad towards you, a blurry video in black and white shows a live feed of the trash compactor, “It appears that we have been spotted.”

You swore, “Can you override the controls?”

“The empire seems to have updated their technology. I do not recognize the codes they are using. It will take me some time to decipher them.”

You watched as his fingers danced across his datapad, “How long will that take? If you haven’t noticed, we're a minute away from being crushed to death!”

“I’m aware.” His voice held a bite to it, one that you’ve never heard before.

Regret fills your body. He’s in the same situation as you, afraid just the same, “Right, of course, sorry.”

He doesn’t verbally address your apology but he does reassure you, “The others will find us. We’ve been in worse situations before.”

You studied him for a moment; taking in his stiff posture which is rare, he’s more of a croucher, spending a good portion of his days bent over the ship's console or his datapad. His fingers are tapping at the side of his device, a nervous habit of his. Your eyes fall shut, accepting defeat because you know, “We’re not making it out are we?”

“It is unlikely I’m afraid,” His voice is no longer biting, nor near defeat, just acceptance, “I do not have the necessary time to decipher the coding. Our fate is in the hands of the Batch now.”

“So that’s it? You’re just giving up?”

“Yes, but it’s not because I don’t care about our survival,” He attached his datapad into its slot on his belt, “I don’t want to spend my last moments with you with my face buried in a datapad. That’s not fair to either of us.”

He’s close enough to reach out and touch him, which is what you do. One hand flat against his chest, armour cold under your palm, and your other hand rests on his side, your hand small enough to settle on the warmth of his blacks where the armour doesn’t cover his torso.

“I would have before you,” He said, leaving you confused and he smoothed out the lines forming the frown on your face, then his hand cupped your cheek, “Take in as much information as I could, spend my last minutes doing what I do best; learning the ways of the Empire,” He pressed his forehead against yours, “Words could never compare to you, cyar’ika.”

Your heart soars, eyes flickering down to his lips, “May I kiss you?”

“Please.” Breathed Tech, already dipping his head down to meet you halfway, barely getting the words out before your lips connected. His lips are soft and tasted like caf and you both moaned into the kiss.

Your fingers flexed on his chest amour, steadying yourself when his tongue ran over the seal of your lips asking for permission. You let him lead and deepen the kiss, enjoying following along with the passion he poured into the kiss.

He eventually pulled back to rest his forehead against yours once more, “If we make it out I would love to take you on a date.”

“And if we don’t?”

“I’d die knowing how your lips feel on mine. To know what it’s like to taste the woman I cherish. That’s how every man should go.” Tech smiled.

Crosshair

Sorry, Crosshair is on a vacation at the moment. He was kind enough to leave a message for his brothers.