X-Men Oneshots

Unspoken Attraction (Prof. Scott Summers)

Y/N sat in the lecture hall at Xavier's School for Gifted Youngsters, trying to focus on Professor Summers' latest lesson on mutant gene mutations. Her fingers absentmindedly twirled her pen as she struggled to pay attention. The problem wasn't the material—Y/N was an excellent student and had always found the subject fascinating—it was him.

Scott Summers, her professor, stood at the front of the room, his commanding voice filling the hall, explaining the intricacies of mutation development. He wore his usual dark visor to shield his deadly optic blasts, making his expressions unreadable, but Y/N knew that beneath that stoic exterior, there was a world of warmth. A warmth she had experienced firsthand.

She glanced down at her notebook, trying to act normal, but her mind wandered back to the secret moments they had shared. Late-night talks in his office, lingering touches when no one was watching, stolen kisses that made her heart race. They were carefully treading a line between professional and personal, balancing the gravity of their relationship with the consequences that would follow if anyone found out.

Their relationship had started innocently enough. She had always admired Scott for his leadership, his intelligence, and the way he commanded respect from everyone at the Institute. But over time, admiration had turned into something more. At first, it had been harmless glances exchanged across the room, subtle smiles that only they understood. But the connection between them had deepened, and it became impossible to ignore.

Y/N couldn't deny the electricity between them. Neither could Scott.

It had been a late evening when things first changed. Y/N had stayed behind after one of Scott's lectures to ask a question about a project she was working on. She had expected a brief discussion about genetics, but instead, they had talked for hours—about life, about fears, about what it meant to be a mutant in a world that didn't always understand them.

Scott had listened to her, really listened, in a way that no one else had before. He wasn't just her professor, guiding her through the curriculum—he was a confidant, someone she could trust. It had been comforting, and in that comfort, something shifted.

They were standing by his desk when their hands brushed against each other's, the contact sending a jolt through both of them. Y/N's breath had caught in her throat, and for a moment, the air between them felt charged with an undeniable energy. She had looked up at him, seeing the hesitation in his eyes beneath his visor, and for a split second, they were no longer professor and student. They were just Scott and Y/N.

Neither of them moved at first, as if frozen in the tension of the moment. But then Scott had reached for her, his hand gently cupping her cheek, his thumb brushing across her skin. "This... this isn't right," he had murmured, his voice full of conflict.

"I know," Y/N had whispered back, her own heart racing. "But it feels right."

He had hesitated, as though weighing the consequences of what was about to happen. But in the end, the pull between them had been too strong to resist. His lips had met hers in a kiss that was both tender and full of the unspoken longing they had been holding back for so long.

From that night on, they had been something more.

Their relationship had to remain hidden, for obvious reasons. Scott was her professor, and there were rules—rules that could lead to disastrous consequences if they were broken. But the heart doesn't always follow rules, and for the first time in a long while, Scott was letting himself follow his heart.

They met in secret. Sometimes it was late at night in his office, where they would spend hours talking about everything under the sun. Other times, they would take long walks on the outskirts of the Institute grounds, careful to avoid the gaze of other students or faculty members. Y/N cherished those quiet moments with him, the times when they could just be themselves, without the burden of expectations or judgment.