Y/N Oneshots Smut and Fluff

Secret Flame (Trump x Reader) 🌶️

As President Trump stood at the podium, addressing the crowd gathered for his keynote speech, his Secret Service agent, Y/N, scanned the area with practiced vigilance. Her eyes, hidden behind dark sunglasses, took in every detail, every potential threat. It was her job to ensure his safety, and she took it very seriously. But it wasn't just duty that made her so attentive—there was an unspoken connection between her and the President, a magnetic pull that neither could deny.

The President's speech was going smoothly, his words captivating the audience. Suddenly, a loud crack echoed through the air. The crowd gasped and chaos erupted. Y/N's instincts kicked in immediately. She tackled Trump to secure his safety, lowering him down behind the podium just as another shot rang out.

"Stay down!" She ordered, her body shielding his. Her voice was calm, authoritative, but beneath that calm exterior, her heart was racing. Not just from the danger, but from the proximity to Trump, the feel of her body pressed against his.

Trump's breath came in quick, shallow gasps, his eyes wide with fear. "Y/N," he whispered, his voice trembling.

"I've got you," She reassured him, her hand going down to grip her gun, ready to fire if necessary. He pressed closer to her, making her grab something other than a gun. The heat between them was palpable, the intensity of the moment heightening every sensation.

As the seconds ticked by, her hand slipped under his pants, making him groan in pleasure. She started moving her hand in and slow up and down motion, hoping this would be a way to relax The President.

"Donald..." Y/N murmured, her voice husky with lust. She had never called him by his first name before, always maintaining a professional distance. But now, in this moment, all formalities fell away.

"Y/N," he replied, through moans. Her hand moved at a quicker pace, making Donald buck his hips in pleasure. The gesture made him dizzy with pleasure, coming close to climax.

Without thinking, Y/N leaned down, her lips brushing his in a tentative kiss. It was a fleeting contact, a moment of stolen passion amidst the chaos. Trump's response was immediate, his lips parting, inviting her in. The kiss deepened, becoming more urgent, more desperate. It was as if all the pent-up desire, all the unspoken words, were being poured into that single moment.

Y/N's hand slid around his waist, pulling him closer, his body pressing against hers. The President could feel the softness of her curves, the rapid rise and fall of her chest. Trumps hands roamed over her body, his fingers digging into her hips, pulling her even closer.

The danger of their situation seemed to heighten his arousal, the adrenaline coursing through  their veins, fueling Trumps desire. Trumps lips trailed from her mouth to her neck, biting into it. Trump bucked his hips into her one last time, nutting on her hand as she rubs her thumb over his tip.

"Y/N, we shouldn't... anymore.." He murmured, but his words lacked conviction. His hands gripped her shoulders, holding her to him.

"I know," She whispered back, her lips finding his again. "But I can't stop."

Their kisses grew more frantic, their need for each other overpowering their sense of duty. Trump's hand slipped under her blouse, his fingers grazing the soft skin of her abdomen. Y/N gasped, her back arching, pressing her body against his. The feel of her skin against his palm was intoxicating, and he wanted more.

The sound of approaching footsteps broke through their haze of desire. Y/N pulled back, her breath ragged, her eyes dark with longing. "We have to get you to safety," She said, her voice rough.

Trump nodded, his own breath coming in quick gasps. "Yes," he agreed, though his eyes still held that same intensity, that same unspoken desire.

Y/N helped him to his feet, keeping his body close to hers as they moved. The chaos outside the podium was still ongoing, but Y/Ns focus was solely on Donald, on getting him to safety. As they made their way through the crowd, their bodies still pressed close together, Y/N knew that this moment, this connection, would be something neither of them could forget.

Later, when the danger had passed and they were alone in the safety of the White House, the intensity of their shared moment lingered between them. The memory of that kiss, that touch, would be a constant reminder of the bond they shared, a bond forged in the heat of danger and passion. And though their roles demanded professionalism and distance, the fire that had been ignited under that podium would continue to burn, a secret flame that only they could see.