King Von Imagines

No Hook

Weird count ~579
Lakeyah wasn't new to the game, and neither was Von. They both came from cities that raised them to be tough, built them for the industry's highs and lows. She moved with precision, never letting anyone too close, but Von—he had a way of getting past all that. He wasn't just charming; he was calculated, always a step ahead, always knowing exactly what to say and when to say it.

It started in the studio. A late-night session, the kind that didn't have a set end time. She had been laying down a verse, smooth yet sharp, her voice commanding over the beat, when Von slid in, dripped out in all black, his chain catching the dim light. He leaned against the wall, nodding along, arms crossed, just watching.

The moment the beat cut off, he spoke.

"Aye, run that back," he told the engineer, nodding along. "She snappin'."

Lakeyah glanced at him, unimpressed. "You just gon' sit there, or you hoppin' on the track?"

Von smirked, stepping closer. "You think you ready for that?"

She scoffed, matching his energy. "Boy, please. I been ready."

That was how it always was with them—pushing, challenging, never backing down. Von liked women with bite, and Lakeyah wasn't the type to play soft. She had her own motion, her own grind, and he respected that. What started as friendly competition turned into something heavier, something neither of them wanted to put a label on just yet.

Late-night calls turned into studio sessions that had nothing to do with music. Industry events meant stolen glances across the room, the kind that spoke louder than words. They moved in silence, keeping whatever this was lowkey, but everybody in their circles could see it.

One night, after a show in Atlanta, they ended up posted in Von's car, the bass from a nearby club thumping through the streets. The air was thick with unspoken words. Lakeyah was scrolling through her phone, pretending not to notice the way Von was looking at her from the driver's seat.

"What?" she finally asked, still not looking up.

He chuckled, shaking his head. "You actin' like you don't feel this."

She paused, then locked her phone, turning to face him fully. "Feel what?"

Von leaned in slightly, his voice lower now, smoother. "Us."

Lakeyah held his gaze, searching his face for a joke, some kind of game. But there wasn't one. Von wasn't the type to play when it came to what he wanted.

And right now, what he wanted was her.

She exhaled, leaning back against the seat. "You talk too much."

Von smirked. "So shut me up then."

Lakeyah didn't hesitate. She grabbed his chain, pulling him closer, and met his lips in a kiss that was slow but intense, like a beat that builds before the drop. Von's hands found her waist, his grip firm but controlled. There was no rush—just the steady realization that whatever had been simmering between them for months had finally hit its boiling point.

When they pulled apart, Von licked his lips, still smirking. "Took you long enough."

Lakeyah rolled her eyes, trying to ignore the way her heart was racing. "Boy, shut up."

Von just laughed, reaching for his lighter. "Aight, bet. But just so you know—this ain't gon' be no one-time thing."

She knew that already.

Like a track with no hook, their connection didn't need a label. It spoke for itself.