X-Men Oneshots

Sparring Sparks (Scott Summers)

The gym at Xavier's School for Gifted Youngsters was quiet in the late evening, the usual hum of activity long gone as the mansion settled into the night. Y/N stood in front of the punching bag, her gloved fists striking it with rhythmic precision. Each punch felt like a release of the pent-up energy she hadn't been able to shake all day.

Behind her, she heard the sound of footsteps approaching, and she smiled to herself, already knowing who it was. Scott Summers—leader, strategist, and a man who had always made an impact on her. Not just because of his leadership or his abilities, but because of the way his mere presence made her pulse quicken. They had trained together plenty of times before, but recently, it felt different. The air between them was always charged, the banter during their sessions laced with a tension that neither had fully addressed.

"Still going at it?" Scott's voice cut through the silence, his familiar calm tone making her heart skip a beat.

Y/N turned around, her eyes landing on him as he approached. He looked as composed as ever, his red-tinted visor concealing his eyes, but she could feel the intensity radiating from him. There was something about Scott that had always drawn her in—his strength, his focus, the quiet confidence that came with being the leader of the X-Men. But there was also something beneath the surface, a fire she'd seen glimpses of, one that made her wonder what it would take to ignite it fully.

"Can't afford to slack off," Y/N replied with a smirk, wiping the sweat from her brow. "Besides, I know you love a good challenge."

Scott chuckled, setting down his bag as he began to wrap his hands. "Is that a challenge, Y/N?"

Her smirk widened as she shrugged, playfully stepping back from the punching bag. "Maybe. You up for it?"

He shot her a look, one corner of his mouth lifting in a half-smile. "You know I am."

There was always an unspoken competition between them during training sessions, a playful edge to their sparring that neither of them had fully acknowledged. But tonight, as Scott stepped onto the mat with her, something felt different. The air was charged, the space between them buzzing with an energy that had nothing to do with training.

They squared off, both of them in their fighting stances, eyes locked. Y/N could feel the adrenaline coursing through her veins, but it wasn't just the excitement of the spar. It was the way Scott moved, the way his muscles flexed under his shirt, the intensity in his expression. She had always admired his strength, but now, standing so close to him, she couldn't help but notice the way her body responded to his—how her pulse quickened and her thoughts drifted to things that had nothing to do with combat.

Scott moved first, launching into a series of quick strikes. Y/N dodged easily, her body falling into the rhythm of the fight as she countered his moves. They danced around each other, their movements fluid and precise, but as the minutes passed, something shifted. Their sparring grew less about technique and more about proximity—about the way their bodies brushed together with each move, the way their breathing became heavier, more labored.

Y/N felt the tension building, her heart pounding not from the exertion of the fight, but from the way Scott's hand had grazed her side during a dodge, the way his breath was hot on her neck when he moved in close. The room seemed to shrink, the space between them tightening with every second that passed.

She landed a light punch against his chest, but instead of stepping back, Scott caught her wrist, holding it firmly but gently. His grip was strong, but his touch sent a shiver down her spine.

"Not bad," he muttered, his voice rougher than usual, his body closer than it had been all night.

Y/N's breath hitched as she looked up at him, their faces only inches apart now. "I could say the same about you."

There was a beat of silence, the sound of their breathing the only thing filling the room. Scott didn't let go of her wrist, and Y/N didn't pull away. Instead, they stood there, the tension between them crackling like electricity, neither willing to break the moment.

And then, as if pulled by some unseen force, Scott's other hand moved, gently brushing a strand of hair from her face. The touch was soft, tender, but it sent a surge of heat through Y/N's body, her heart racing faster. His fingers lingered on her cheek, his thumb grazing her skin, and in that moment, she knew they had crossed a line.

Neither of them spoke, but the look in Scott's eyes—or at least what she could feel through the visor—said everything. The playful sparring had given way to something deeper, something they had both been denying for too long. And now, in the quiet isolation of the gym, there was no one around to stop it.

Without thinking, Y/N took a step closer, her body pressing against his, her hand resting on his chest. She could feel his heart beating rapidly beneath her palm, mirroring the way her own heart pounded in her chest. Scott's breath hitched, and for a moment, they both stood frozen, caught in the intensity of the moment.

"Y/N..." Scott's voice was barely above a whisper, his grip on her wrist tightening slightly. "This... we shouldn't—"

But before he could finish, Y/N closed the distance between them, her lips crashing against his in a kiss that was long overdue. It was fierce, full of the passion and tension they had both been holding back for far too long. Scott's hands slid down her sides, pulling her closer, and Y/N felt a shiver of pleasure as his lips moved against hers with a hunger that matched her own.

The kiss deepened, all thoughts of restraint or caution disappearing as the heat between them took over. Y/N's fingers tangled in his hair, pulling him closer as their bodies pressed together, the intensity of their connection overwhelming. She had always known there was something between them, but now, feeling the way Scott responded to her, she realized just how deep it went.

When they finally broke apart, both of them breathless, Scott rested his forehead against hers, his hands still gripping her waist as if he couldn't let go. His visor was inches away from her face, and Y/N could feel the warmth of his breath against her lips.

"This wasn't part of the training plan," Scott murmured, his voice low and rough.

Y/N smiled, her fingers tracing the back of his neck. "Maybe not. But I think we both knew it was coming."

Scott chuckled softly, his grip on her waist tightening slightly. "Yeah, I guess we did."

For a long moment, they stood there, the weight of what had just happened settling between them. The playful sparring had turned into something much more heated, and now, they couldn't go back to pretending there wasn't something real between them.

Scott gently lifted her chin, his thumb brushing her bottom lip. "What now?" he asked, his voice soft.

Y/N's heart swelled at the tenderness in his touch, the vulnerability in his voice. "Now... we stop pretending."

Scott smiled, a rare, genuine smile that made Y/N's heart flutter. He leaned in, pressing a soft kiss to her forehead before pulling her into his arms. "Sounds like a plan."

In the quiet of the gym, the sparks between them had finally ignited into something undeniable. And for the first time, neither of them was holding back.

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