Sight Unseen
Din Djarin x f!reader
summary: over the years he happily fulfills all of your desires, except the one you want most of all: to see his face. cw: 18+, smut, unprotected piv, oral (f receiving), rough sex? a little fluff maybe, longing, dirty talk, language a/n: this is my first time writing Din and I wrote it so fast but I really couldn't help myself after watching that trailer
He was your first. There have been others since, but they’ve never captured you like he did and still does even if it is true that you’ve never seen what lies beneath his helmet. The day he came through the village, you knew right then that there'd never be anyone else like him. Whilst your community was enthralled by the tiny yet powerful companion he brought with him, you were stuck on him. The way he walked, the way he held himself tall, strong, experienced, and you couldn't help but blush any time he lifted his head in your direction.
Din had one rule that you had tried so many times to understand; he'd give himself to you, but you could never see his face. Initially, even though you never showed it, it played on your mind that you were giving yourself to somebody so intimately, yet he never allowed you to see his true self, not without that goddamn barrier. But if you wanted him, and fuck, you definitely wanted him, that was the one small price you'd always have to pay, so you accepted it.
It became a sort of routine. Whenever he felt like it, after good days and after worse days, he'd arrive at your hut in the dead of night when only you would be aware of his presence. Whilst your village slept cast under a peaceful darkness, you’d wait for him, hoping that you'd hear those familiar gentle creaks of the floorboards letting you know that he was here for you.
Whenever he calls, you follow his instructions precisely. Standing facing the wall, you'll listen to the sound of his heavy armor approaching you from behind. He'll pull out the silver silk scarf from his suit and bring it over your head, over your eyes, until it's tied to block your vision. You always sense his silent hesitation before he reaches up to remove his helmet. Once he's naked, he'll undress you slowly, his large palms brushing against your skin, never failing to leave a trail of goosebumps everywhere he touches. Once he has you ready, he'll ask you to surrender your body to him in whatever way he desires: up against the wall, sprawled bare for him on the bed, in his lap, anyway he desires as long as that silver silk remains in place over your eyes.
He claims the blindfold heightens your senses, and he's right. But the more he calls, the more he worships every inch of your body under the darkness, the harder it’s becoming not to defy his rule and remove the barrier between you. The pull to cast your eyes over the man who consumes your entire body and all your thoughts every second of the day is starting to drive you insane.
Tonight should have been no different, except it was. He hadn’t shown for weeks, and the ache inside of you to be with him again was starting to mess with you. You were agitated and irritable, and you knew your friends had noticed. So when the creak of the floorboards came a few hours after the sun had dipped, it woke you from your light slumber, an excitement running through your being. The silhouette of his armor, the soft glimmer of it reflecting under the moonlight as he waited for you to notice him, made your tummy flip. He looks big in the doorway, and his size always has always intimidated you in the best possible way.
Following the pattern without a word exchanged, you stand, padding on bare feet towards the wall opposite him. You listen to his slow steps behind you as he steps inside your room. Like always, you wait for the silk blindfold, but it doesn't come. Instead, in the corner of your eye, you notice his helmet being placed down and hear the gentle clink of his suit as he undresses. His breathing deepens as he steps forward and slips the thin straps of your nightgown off your shoulders, letting the fabric slide down your body like a feather until it lands on the wood beneath you. With his palm snaking around your front, it rests low on your stomach as he pulls you back into him, his soft wet lips laying delicate kisses up your neck before they hover beside your ear. You push your naked ass back into his raging erection, aching to feel him again. God, how you've missed this.
“Please.” You beg.
“Missed me, huh?”
You nod with a bite of your lip. “You know I did. Didn’t know if you were coming back.” Your hands reach up to entangle in those curls you don’t even know the true color of. Fuck, how you wish you could turn and see the man who knows your body and your needs so well.
“Always coming back to you…” He murmurs, and for a moment you know he’s overthinking that comment; he has a frustrating habit of seizing up any time a glimmer of serious affection slips from his mouth.
“What about-”
“Be a good girl for me; promise you won't turn around.”
You nod in agreement, but you're not sure if you can truly keep such a promise.
“Get on the bed, want you on all fours, head down.”
There’s a vulnerability that washes over you when he watches you do this, but every time it excites you, the anticipation, the curiosity of how exactly he’ll take you tonight. Sometimes he’s slow, gentle and caring. Sometimes he feels distant, the pain or sadness radiating from his body. Other times when he tells you he’s had a successful mission, he’s rougher, more daring, and more dominant because the confidence oozes from him as it courses through his veins.
Sensing the dip of the bed behind you, your heart begins to race at the way you feel so exposed yet so fucking good bared open to him like this. As you wait, you notice the coldness of the night air softly blowing through the window landing on your skin. In contrast, his hot breath tickles against your ass makes your tummy flip as you anticipate his next move. The tip of his nose brushes against your lower back, trailing down slowly between the curves of your ass cheeks, his tongue instantly darting out as it reaches its destination to taste your pooling desire. Jolting forward from his actions as your breath hitches, his palms instantly grip onto your waist, holding you tightly in place as his mouth explores your drenched cunt, his hums of satisfaction making you even more horny.
“Always taste fucking divine, my love.” My love. You can't help but latch onto those words the second they escape him. He's never called you that; always a man of few words and you can’t help but wonder if he means it.
You can feel your juices coating his chin as he laps at your folds, his wet facial hair against your thighs. He gets lost in the sounds of your moans while he tastes you, his erection twitching at the sounds. When he stops, you whimper in protest, needing more. His hand smoothes up to the top of your back, pushing hard on your shoulders until your head rests down on the sheets beneath you, your ass still high in the air.
“Please, I need you," you whisper, your ass wriggling, trying to move back into him, but he holds you tightly in place. He parts your ass cheeks with his hands looking down at your glistening folds.
"Shit, it’s been too long. I've missed this view, you all open for me like this, begging for it, baby. Don't think you know what it does to me, d’you?”
His hand comes to your mouth, inserting two fingers deep against your tongue. Pushing them further inside, he gently thrusts them, making you gag around his digits, the vulgar sound making his cock even harder. When he draws them out, the wet pop of your lips makes him groan deeply.
“Gonna kill me one day with the sounds you make. You’re fuckin’ perfect.” He takes himself in hand, his fingers wet with your spit now coating his rock-hard dick before he lines himself up with your soaked entrance. You push back, eager to have his veiny shaft fill you up once again. When he finally stops teasing, the sudden instruction of his thrust pushes your head further into the bed, making you gasp at how perfectly he stretches you. It's like your body forgets just how thick he is.
"Fuuuuck," he groans, reaching down to grab a handful of your hair, “Always so tight for me.”
In the quietness of the night, there’s only the sound of his hips slapping against yours, his animalistic grunts as he drives into you over and over again, mixed with your desperate whimpers muffled in the sheets. You both know you should be quieter; if anyone found you, you know your dad would probably start a war with Din, but when he’s sheathed so deep inside of you like this, it’s hard to care about what anyone else would think. His free hand lightly scratches down your spine before curving underneath you to your tits. His thumb flicks over your hard nipple before he squeezes the flesh hard, maybe a little too hard, but you don't protest because you enjoy being completely at his mercy, willing to give him whatever he needs.
He pulls tightly, wrapping your hair around his fist as his thrusts start to turn ragged and messy. When he starts to feel your walls fluttering around his thick erection, he releases his grip on your hair, reaching underneath your body to pleasure your sensitive bud, desperate to send you racing over the edge before he spills his load. “Yeahhh fuck, that’s it, darling; almost there.”
As he works you, your body begins to shudder against the mattress as he fucks you even harder through your orgasm. “Just like that, let me feel you.”
Your nails dig into the sheets, desperate for grip as you ride out your high around him. When it passes, your body feels weightless as the energy drains from you. It’s only his strong grip on your waist that’s keeping you in place as he chases his own release, his thrusts getting harder each time. When his pants become too quick, he withdraws, releasing a loud, guttural groan into the darkness as he spurts his hot, thick cum onto your ass, breathing heavy like a feral animal.
Utterly spent, he drops down onto you. Your damp, sticky bodies joined together as they recover from your mutual highs. He never stays long afterwards; once he’s sure you're okay, he pulls his armor back on too quickly, rushing away before he could be in any danger of being persuaded to stay, leaving you cold and lonely and wishing for more. But tonight it isn’t going unnoticed how he isn’t itching to flee your bed.
“Am I too heavy?” He hums against your hot skin.
“Hmm, but I like it.” Your voice is soft but tired.
“Need me to move?”
“No, stay… a while longer.” You mumble into the pillow, never wanting to leave this very moment.
You know you need to clean up, but this is the longest you’ve had him like this, thoroughly fucked, not wanting to leave your side, so you refuse to spoil this yet. For once you sense he’s relaxed, his guard down as he allows himself to get lost in the bliss of the intimate moment you just shared together.
As you lift your head slightly from the mattress, the thin slither of moonlight reflecting into your room allows you to see his body. The rise and fall of his bare chest is starting to slow. You watch as he pulls the sheet up over you both until it lies lows on his waist. He takes your hand, bringing it to his mouth to place a soft kiss on your palm before holding it against his chest. While you lie there not saying a word, getting lost in his soft breathing as he falls into a deep sleep, you don’t realize the time passing.
You still haven’t looked up, scared to lift your eyes, to move up his huge form beside you and land on the one thing you’ve never been allowed to see. But with him sleeping right next to you, the temptation, the desperation to flick your pupils up, becomes all too overwhelming.
So when you do finally give in, you’re sure your heat skips a beat. His face is cast softly under the white moonlight, and you can’t help but admire the beauty of it. You’d created an image in your mind from his voice and what you’d felt against your skin over the time you’ve spent with him, and of course you knew he’d be striking, but it was nothing compared to the reality of seeing his face beside you now.
His skin looks a little aged, like his experiences as a bounty hunter are finally catching up with him. His brows are knitted ever so slightly as he dreams, revealing the lines across his forehead, and his eyelids flicker gently as he fights his demons within his sleep. You reach up to examine the soft curls on his head before your eyes drop slowly down over the outline of his face, moving over the patchy facial hair that has brushed against your neck and your thighs a hundred times before. He has a jaw so sharp and rigid, and you wonder how one man could possibly be so handsome, even in such low light. There's a flutter of butterflies building within your stomach as you analyze every single detail and scar on his face. You can tell he’s seen more than anyone should, and you can know he’s still holding onto so much hurt. Jesus, there's so much you would like to ask him; you almost wish you could climb inside his mind yourself to make all his pain disappear.
As you watch him, his head begins to move, left to right and back again. His breathing suddenly becomes faster and more desperate, and you feel his entire body beside you tense against the bed beneath you. Lifting your hand, you cup his face as you look down at him.
You call for him. Nothing. As his nightmare worsens and his body starts to move more vigorously, you refuse to be scared, instead calling his name louder repeatedly until his eyes finally open, landing straight on yours, startled.
For the first time, you're finally looking directly into the eyes of the man you spend your days longing for, the only man you will ever want. In this very moment as you trace a finger along the outline of his face, it feels a thousand times more intimate than anything you’ve done together.
He whispers your name; the sound of it coming from his lips as he searches your eyes makes it sound different than any time before. All his barriers have vanished, if only for a second. He blinks, swallows, and speaks again, his voice louder and more serious. “What are you doing?”
“You were having a nightmare… you were thrashing-”
“Don’t have nightmares.” He cuts you off.
"Din-"
“Have to get back to the kid.”
You shift, moving your head closer to his on the pillow as you stroke the far side of his face with your thumb. “Wait, please... let me in. You don’t have to hide from me.” you search his face, trying to take as much of him in before he inevitably runs away. He reaches up, taking your hand from his cheek with a gentle shake of his head. With a heavy sigh, he sits up looking away so his broad, scarred back hides the view of his face.
He stands, dressing with his back to you. He doesn’t look back until his helmet hides him again. He lingers, glancing down at your naked body sprawled across the bed, and you get the impression he's fighting every ounce of common sense in his body not to stay. But he doesn’t say a word; instead, he disappears off into the night leaving you unsure when or if he'll ever call again.