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theoreticalfishsticks · 3 days ago

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Dorn X Huntsman (Spider-Person!Reader)

AN: Its here!!!

Reader is nonbinary

Word Count: 2,124

divider from @/enchanthings

The headcanon that inspired this: Huntsman and Dorn developed a little “game” they played together called Breach N’ Defend (Huntsman insists that's how it's written). The rules are simple: whenever they have to leave the Phalanx to stay at an imperial fortress, Dorn arrives ahead of Huntsman and goes about his business as usual. After a delay, Huntsman follows after him. But, instead of entering the fortress like a normal person, they have to try and break into it; and should they make it inside, they then have to locate and reach Dorn. While they have the advantage that they don't have to be stealthy about it, Huntsman only wins if they can reach him. If they can’t get inside or they get caught before finding him, Dorn wins.

And, surprising as it may be, it was actually Dorn who originally suggested the exercise.

“I’m sorry, what…?” You look up from the data slab you'd been reading to blink owlishly at the Primarch sitting before you.

Despite it being late into the Phalanx’s artificial night cycle, you were still wide awake keeping the Lord Dorn company in his office. Or perhaps more accurately, he was keeping you company in his office. An increasingly frequent occurrence these days, either way.

It was nice. You liked the companionable silence you shared as you worked on separate things together. Utterly absorbed in your respective tasks, it had been hours since either of you had exchanged any words with one another. Until Dorn had broken that streak, at least.

“I believe it would be mutually beneficial if we were to set your skills against the fortress’ defenses,” he repeated. Leaning back in his chair, the massive Primarch casually stretches his back and neck after hours of being hunched over.

“No– Uh, I heard you,” you sighed. Shaking your head, you lay the data slab to the side, atop the blueprints of whatever schematics Dorn had previously been drawing out. “I just don’t understand what you mean.”

“The fortress we are moving to for the next two weeks is an early design of mine. Though it was built to withstand heavy siege first and foremost, I – of course – closed any gaps that could be used for small scale infiltration, as well. However, you present a unique threat as someone with both enhanced strength and mobility. Thus, tomorrow, when we arrive at our destination, I would like for you to try and break into it once I have entered the premises as a means of testing its fortifications.”

“Why after you’re already inside? If you wanted another pair of eyes to look for proverbial cracks in your security’s foundation, wouldn’t it make more sense for us to just go for a walk around the premises together?”

Dorn shook his head. “No. It is not merely the fortress itself that I intend to test. I wish to observe my sons’ own response, as well.”

“Yeah, but that’s assuming I make it in,” frowning, you tilt your head in a quizzical manner.

“You will.”

“...Oh, I see! So, there’s a security issue that you’re already aware of, then?”

“No.”

Slumping over in confusion, you can only blink at the man before you dumbly. Which he obviously must find humorous, if the way the corners of his lips twitched up slightly was any indication.

“Though there are no ‘cracks’ in the fortress’ security that I am aware of, I am certain you will find a way in, regardless.”

“But, you said you designed it.”

“I did.”

“So, it should be impenetrable then!”

“Indeed.”

Letting out a frustrated huff, you throw your hands up in an exaggerated display of confusion. “Then how the hell am I supposed to get in!?”

“I do not know. And that is exactly the point,” Dorn began. “As I said, there are no ‘cracks’ that I can see – but I do not see as you do. You are without a doubt more resourceful than any other individual I have ever known. You see paths where others fail to. And when you can find none, you create them. You will find a way in.”

Your breath catches in your throat.

He sounds as sure as he always does. As though the triumph of your ingenuity over his own is a long foregone conclusion, the obvious outcome. It makes your chest feel impossibly tight.

“That is– Um, that is– that…” God, you hadn’t felt this small in a long time… You hated the way your voice wavered. “I, uh– Um, I think you might be giving me a bit too much credit there.”

“No, you give yourself too little,” Dorn says firmly. “I know you doubt yourself. I see it in the way you deflect praise with humor, downplaying your expertise in favor of others’. You think that because you lack the words to explain what makes a strategy sound or why a maneuver paid off that it means that you do not understand how your battles are won, that you succeed on luck. But that could not be further from the truth.

“For someone who did not have the luxury of receiving any training before taking to the field, the realms of strategy are not made up of words and theory. Everything you know, you know from experience. Your instincts are forged in action, an ever evolving flow of cause-and-effect – free of the preconceived limitations others place on themselves. This gives you a level of variability in your methods of approach that makes surmising your next move difficult for even myself at times. If anyone can find a way into my fortress that I cannot, it is you.”

“Oh…” Tears stung at the corners of your eyes.

The idea that he could most definitely hear the way your heartbeat and breath had quickened makes you want to crawl into a hole, never to emerge again. It made you want to brush him off, rebuff his honest praise and tell yourself that he was just being nice. But you can't. Not with him.

Dorn wasn't one to give flowery platitudes to flatter his way into people's good graces or peddle soothing lies to protect their ego. He was precise and intentional, always saying exactly what he meant. So, whether you could believe his assessment of your character yourself or not, there was no doubt in your mind that Dorn most certainly did. He believes in you.

And you believe in him.

“I– uh, I don't know what to say to that,” You croak, trying desperately to keep from stuttering.

Dorn's brow furrowed lightly, “I apologize for upsetting you. You may, of course, refuse. I understand that I am asking a great deal of time and energy of you on rather short notice–”

“No! No–That's not– You didn't–” Huffing out a frustrated growl, you shove the heels of your palms into your eyes in an aggressive attempt to rub away the tears forming in them.

But, no sooner than your hands had made contact with your face did you feel Dorn's own wrap around your forearms, their mass only just shy of covering them entirely. He pulls your hands away firmly, though he was likely being quite gentle by his own standards.

“Breathe.”

Obey his command, you close your eyes and begin sucking in deep breaths as best you can.

Your thoughts are filled with anxiety. What if this whole proposition was just some kind of a test and you'd just failed? Given away the true frailty of your heart and disappointed him? Was he angry with you? Would he take back all of the nice things he just said?

After an agonizing moment of hesitation, you finally gather your courage enough to open your eyes and begin scanning across Dorn's face, trying to gauge his reaction to your pathetic display.

His brows had remained furrowed slightly but they had smoothed out enough to convey more exasperation than anything else. And it wasn't an angry exasperation, but rather he looked almost… fond? His eyes held a soft gleam that cast the rest of his face in a terribly affectionate light.

If you had thought that seeing his disappointment would sting, then his apparent acceptance was a punch to the gut. It was all you could do to choke back more tears at the sight.

“Stop looking at me like that, before I start to think you like me or something else scandalous like that,” you jokingly snapped at him, though it sounds half-hearted even to your own ears.

“You are sitting atop my desk with your feet on it,” Dorn begins, arching a brow at you in an almost challenging manner. “Is that something you think I would allow from someone whom I am not fond of?”

After giving a quick glance down at your own crossed legs, that are indeed seated on top of the Primarch's desk, you look off to the side and shrug lazily. “Oh, I don't know… for all I know you're just as indulgent with all of the other trans universe funny men you meet.” There you go. Back into comfortable territory.

“Try again,” he ordered. Now the exasperation looked a little annoyed.

“No, you wouldn't,” you mumbled, visibly wilting and casting your eyes to the side in a sulk.

“Correct.” The primarch reaches out a hand to gently turn your face back to him. “So, am I to believe you are amicable to attempting to infiltrate the fortress as I have asked?”

“Yeah, of course,” you hum, nodding for good measure. “If you think it'll be helpful, I'm happy to be of service. Besides, it'll be a good way to work through my post-warp jitters.”

“That was my thought as well,” Dorn says. He picks up the drafting pencil he'd previously been using and adjusts his seating slightly, apparently content enough with the course of the conversation to divert his attention back to his work.

You're somewhat disappointed to see that he's done with you for the time being, but you're happy for the chance to admire the man's profile, nonetheless. It was moments like this that reminded you why you had fallen for the primarch, as ridiculous as your crush on the man felt at times. When his methodical and stoic nature gave way to the considerate and down-right gentle heart that informed it.

“You thought of that?” Your voice is soft, like speaking too loud would shatter the tender atmosphere.

Dorn responds without looking up from his work. “Of course. I did say I believe it to be a mutually beneficial arrangement, did I not? Warp travel makes you anxious, but so as to not disturb those around you, you pretend as though it doesn't. Instead you let your anxiety fester and writhe within, your very body becoming a prison of its own making. And since you seem to be doing so for my perceived benefit, it falls to me to provide you with a method of release.”

“Oh, no it doesn't! My martyr complex isn't your problem.” Your face felt impossibly hot. There was nothing more mortifying than having the object of your affection blatantly point out behaviors born of one's foolish pinning. “I'm sorry, I didn't realise you were paying attention to stuff like that…”

“I pay attention to everything, especially when it comes to you.”

He had said it like it was the most obvious thing in the world, still not even glancing up from his work. Something one might think would make his words carry less weight, even to an adoring ear. But, surprisingly, it didn't bother you at all. The sentiment still brings a fresh wave of tears to your eyes.

“And, yes, perhaps it is not inherently my responsibility to see to your well-being and provide you with, shall we say, enrichment,” he pauses for a moment, his gaze once again flicking up to your own finally. A teasing smile ghosts his lips as they form the word ‘enrichment,’ as though you were some pet he was caring for rather than a trusted friend. “But, it is a responsibility I take on willingly, nonetheless.”

Though you let out a shaky laugh at his dry humor, you're at a loss for any words to properly convey how insane he's making you feel right now. So, instead you settle for a smile, watery but genuine. It seems to be enough for the primarch, who returns it with one of his own before once again refocusing on his work.

Letting your tears fall freely this time, you think to yourself that perhaps your feelings for Dorn were not as silly as you had thought, as something your father told you when you were younger manages to break through the emotional haze that had previously blanketed your mind:

To be loved is to be known.

#spider-person in 40k #I love the idea of Dorn being so in love with them and thinking he could be being Any Clearer about it #*could not #meanwhile Huntsman's just like wowie I sure am lucky to be such close friends with him even with my clearly Unrequited love for him #primarch x reader #primarch x oc #rogal dorn #rogal dorn x reader #rogal dorn x oc #my writing #wh40k x reader

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