○o。. 𝒦𝒾𝓃𝑔 𝒱𝑜𝓃

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📍 𝓒𝓱𝓲𝓬𝓪𝓰𝓸, 𝓞'𝓑𝓵𝓸𝓬𝓴

MADE: @𝙠𝙞𝙣𝙜𝙫𝙤𝙣𝙬𝙞𝙛𝙚

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Von was chillin at the crib on O'Block, laid back in just some gray sweats, boxers, socks, his chains shinin like always—no shirt, tatted up, lookin too damn comfortable. You was there wit him, clownin like always, y’all play-fightin all over the bed. You kept tryna swing on him, pushin at his chest whille gigglin like lil kid, but this nigga? He was wildin. Kept pickin you up like you weighed nothin, tossin you back on the bed, talkin shiit in that deep ass voice, laughin like a kid.

“Aye, you weak as hell, ma. Ion even feel them lil punches,” he joked, dodgin your hits and talkin slick wit that goofy smirk.

He grabbed you up again, ready to toss you like he always do, arms around your waist, muscles flexin n shiit—but this time? Somethin was off. You slipped or sum, and instead of landin on the bed, yo ass hit the floor wit a lil thud.

Von froze—eyes wide, mouth hangin open for a sec. Thought he broke you or sum.

But once he saw you sittin there lookin confused, not hurt fr? He started dyin laughin. That raspy ass laugh echoing through the room.

“Ain’t no wayyy yo clumsy ass just missed the bed,” he said between laughs, still holdin his stomach.

He bent down, scooped you up like a baby, arms strong n steady, pressin you close while your legs wrapped ‘round his waist. He was still gigglin low in yo ear, tryin to comfort you but not takin shiit serious like always.