warnings ⊹₊ black female reader, lowercase intended, thigh riding, degradation, praise, pet names, light fluff, marriage, thousand eight randy orton, dirty talk, semi rough. minors dont interact. 𐙚
𝖽𝗈𝗎𝖼𝗁𝖾𝖻𝖺𝗀 𝗋𝖺𝗇𝖽𝗒 𝗈𝗋𝗍𝗈𝗇 𝗆𝗈𝗋𝖾 𝖺𝖿𝖿𝖾𝖼𝗍𝗂𝗈𝗇𝖺𝗅𝗅𝗒 𝗄𝗇𝗈𝗐𝗇 𝖺𝗌 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝗁𝗎𝗌𝖻𝖺𝗇𝖽. 𝗁𝖾'𝗌 𝗇𝗎𝗋𝗌𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗒𝖾𝗍 𝖺𝗇𝗈𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗋 𝗌𝗁𝗈𝗎𝗅𝖽𝖾𝗋 𝗂𝗇𝗃𝗎𝗋𝗒 𝗌𝗂𝖽𝖾𝗅𝗂𝗇𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝖼𝖺𝗋𝖾𝖾𝗋 𝖿𝗈𝗋 𝗎𝗉 𝗍𝗈 𝗌𝗂𝗑 𝗆𝗈𝗇𝗍𝗁𝗌. 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗆𝖺𝗍𝖼𝗁 𝖺𝗍 𝗈𝗇𝖾 𝗇𝗂𝗀𝗁𝗍 𝗌𝗍𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝖺𝗀𝖺𝗂𝗇𝗌𝗍 𝗍𝗋𝗂𝗉𝗅𝖾 𝗁 𝖻𝖾𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗍𝗈 𝗆𝗎𝖼𝗁 𝖿𝗈𝗋 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗏𝗂𝗉𝖾𝗋 𝖽𝗂𝗌𝗅𝗈𝖼𝖺𝗍𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗌𝗁𝗈𝗎𝗅𝖽𝖾𝗋 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗌𝖾𝗇𝗌𝗂𝗍𝗂𝗏𝖾 𝗃𝗈𝗂𝗇𝗍𝗌 𝗂𝗇 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗉𝗋𝗈𝖼𝖾𝗌𝗌. 𝖺 𝗍𝖾𝗌𝗍𝖺𝗆𝖾𝗇𝗍 𝗍𝗈 𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗇 𝖾𝗂𝗀𝗁𝗍 𝗒𝖾𝖺𝗋𝗌 𝗂𝗇 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝖻𝗎𝗌𝗂𝗇𝖾𝗌𝗌 𝗐𝗂𝗍𝗁 𝗆𝖺𝗇𝗒 𝗆𝗈𝗋𝖾 𝗍𝗈 𝖼𝗈𝗆𝖾.
𝗍𝗁𝖺𝗇𝗄𝖿𝗎𝗅𝗅𝗒 𝗒𝗈𝗎'𝗋𝖾 𝗁𝗈𝗆𝖾 𝗂𝗇 𝗌𝗍 𝗅𝗈𝗎𝗂𝗌 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗋𝗈𝖺𝖽 𝖺 𝖽𝗂𝗌𝗍𝖺𝗇𝗍 𝗆𝖾𝗆𝗈𝗋𝗒 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗍𝗎𝗆𝗎𝗅𝗍𝗎𝗈𝗎𝗌 𝖼𝗈𝗆𝗉𝖺𝗋𝖾𝖽 𝗍𝗈 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗊𝗎𝖺𝗂𝗇𝗍 𝗁𝗈𝗆𝖾 𝗒𝗈𝗎'𝗏𝖾 𝗉𝖾𝗋𝖿𝖾𝖼𝗍𝖾𝖽 𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗌𝖾 𝗉𝖺𝗌𝗍 𝗆𝗈𝗇𝗍𝗁𝗌. 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝖿𝖺𝗏𝗈𝗋𝗂𝗍𝖾 𝗆𝖾𝖺𝗅 𝗆𝖾𝖽𝗂𝗎𝗆 𝗋𝖺𝗋𝖾 𝗌𝗍𝖾𝖺𝗄 𝗐𝗂𝗍𝗁 𝗀𝖺𝗋𝗅𝗂𝖼 𝗆𝖺𝗌𝗁𝖾𝖽 𝗉𝗈𝗍𝖺𝗍𝗈𝖾𝗌 𝗀𝖺𝗋𝗇𝗂𝗌𝗁𝖾𝖽 𝗐𝗂𝗍𝗁 𝗉𝖺𝗋𝗌𝗅𝖾𝗒 𝖿𝗎𝗅𝖿𝗂𝗅𝗅𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝖺𝗉𝗉𝖾𝗍𝗂𝗍𝖾. 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗉𝗅𝖺𝗍𝖾𝗌 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗌𝗂𝗅𝗏𝖾𝗋𝗐𝖺𝗋𝖾 𝗌𝗂𝗍𝗍𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗂𝗇 𝗌𝗎𝖽𝗌𝗒 𝗐𝖺𝗍𝖾𝗋 𝖺𝗐𝖺𝗂𝗍𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝖺 𝗐𝖺𝗌𝗁 𝗐𝗁𝗂𝗅𝖾 𝗋𝖺𝗇𝖽𝗒 𝗐𝖺𝗍𝖼𝗁𝖾𝖽 𝗆𝖺𝗇𝗄𝗂𝗇𝖽 𝖿𝖺𝗅𝗅 𝖿𝗋𝗈𝗆 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗌𝗂𝗑𝗍𝖾𝖾𝗇 𝖿𝗈𝗈𝗍 𝗌𝗍𝖾𝖾𝗅 𝖼𝖺𝗀𝖾.
𝗈𝗇𝖾 𝗈𝖿 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝖿𝖺𝗏𝗈𝗋𝗂𝗍𝖾 𝗆𝖺𝗍𝖼𝗁𝖾𝗌 𝖼𝗈𝗆𝗉𝖺𝗋𝖾𝖽 𝗍𝗈 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗈𝗐𝗇 𝗐𝗂𝗍𝗁 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗆𝖺𝖽𝗆𝖺𝗇. 𝗂𝗇𝗌𝖺𝗇𝗂𝗍𝗒 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗍𝗁𝗈𝗎𝗀𝗁𝗍 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗅𝗈𝗏𝖾 𝖿𝗈𝗋 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝖻𝗎𝗌𝗂𝗇𝖾𝗌𝗌 𝗎𝗇𝗆𝖺𝗍𝖼𝗁𝖾𝖽 𝖿𝗈𝗋 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝖻𝗋𝗎𝗍𝖺𝗅𝗂𝗍𝗒, 𝗐𝗁𝗈 𝖼𝗈𝗎𝗅𝖽 𝗉𝗈𝗌𝗌𝗂𝖻𝗅𝗒 𝗌𝗎𝗋𝗏𝗂𝗏𝖾 𝗍𝗁𝖺𝗍 𝗅𝖾𝗍 𝖺𝗅𝗈𝗇𝖾 𝖼𝗈𝗇𝗍𝗂𝗇𝗎𝖾 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗆𝖺𝗍𝖼𝗁 𝗐𝖺𝗌 𝗁𝗈𝗋𝗋𝗂𝖿𝗒𝗂𝗇𝗀.
𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗁𝖺𝖽 𝗋𝗎𝗅𝖾𝗌 𝖺𝖻𝗈𝗎𝗍 𝗐𝗋𝖾𝗌𝗍𝗅𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗐𝗁𝗂𝗅𝖾 𝖺𝗍 𝗁𝗈𝗆𝖾, 𝗇𝗈 𝖼𝗈𝗇𝗏𝖾𝗋𝗌𝖺𝗍𝗂𝗈𝗇𝗌, 𝗇𝗈 𝗍𝗋𝖺𝗂𝗇𝗂𝗇𝗀, 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗈𝖻𝗏𝗂𝗈𝗎𝗌𝗅𝗒 𝗇𝗈 𝗐𝖺𝗍𝖼𝗁𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝖻𝗎𝗍 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗅𝖾𝗍 𝗁𝗂𝗆 𝖻𝗋𝖾𝖺𝗄 𝖺𝗅𝗅 𝗍𝗁𝗋𝖾𝖾. 𝗋𝖾𝗁𝖺𝖻 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗁𝖺𝗉𝗉𝗂𝗇𝖾𝗌𝗌 𝗂𝗌 𝖺𝗅𝗅 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝖺𝖿𝖿𝗈𝗋𝖽𝖾𝖽 𝗁𝗂𝗆 𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗌𝖾 𝖽𝖺𝗒𝗌. 𝖺𝗋𝗀𝗎𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗂𝗇𝖼𝗋𝖾𝖺𝗌𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗂𝗋𝗋𝗂𝗍𝖺𝖻𝗂𝗅𝗂𝗍𝗒 𝗐𝖺𝗌𝗇'𝗍 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝖿𝗂𝗀𝗁𝗍 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗐𝖺𝗇𝗍𝖾𝖽 𝗇𝗈𝗍 𝗍𝗁𝖺𝗍 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗐𝗈𝗎𝗅𝖽 𝗐𝗂𝗇 𝖺𝗇𝗒𝗐𝖺𝗒.
