Dream Team oneshots/smutshots

Muse

Sapnap POV
(This one is different, idk 😭 if I missed a warning, please let me know!)

I write songs about him. Once a stranger, now my muse.

I've played the violin for many years, more than I can count. I can't sing for the life of me, but I can play the violin beautifully.

I studied music in college. I wanted to be a teacher, because it was the only way I could be semi-successful doing what I love. I love being a musician.

But, for some reason, after graduation I found no courage to apply for jobs and start moving my way up in the world.

Sometimes I dream about settling down, and being a house dad. I could work, ya, but I dream of a life where I can put all my love into someone and in return they take care of me.

Is it lazy? I guess. But sometimes the lack of success with music in the past makes it so hard to stay motivated.

I wish he could take care of me, and in return, I write music until death do us part.

I heard them call his order once at the shop. George. And ever since I heard his name, and the British accent thanking the barista, I knew I needed him.

I made my move that day, that moment. I asked his name as if I didn't hear it minutes before. I saw the gloss in his eyes, the way the warm mocha pulled me in was so dangerous. We stayed like that for a second, in a daze of each other. I saw in that moment that he could care about me, too. His demeanor towards me as a stranger was soft, polite.

I asked if we could go to get coffee at that shop together sometime, and he agreed. He was as eager as I, the way he asked to meet two days later.

The date was everything and more. He was interesting, a British guy who studied computer science and now is a successful YouTuber.

He's so young too, twenty-five. He made a life for himself. The only thing he doesn't have is a lover.

I went home crying. You know when you get so overwhelmed by someone, and it's not bad at all, so you don't get why?

I went through the motions. Will this last a while? Will I survive him if it does, but doesn't last forever? Does he want to see me again?

And, he did. We went skating. I watched him stumble and fall, and laugh and turn red of embarrassment. I watched his lips turn hot pink when he drank a cherry slushy, and closed my eyes when he kissed me, telling me with my lips being blue that he bet he could make them purple.

They didn't turn purple, but the colors I saw the world in changed that night. Vibrant, warm all the time now. Orange leaves, brown bark, yellow taxis, olive-green grass everywhere. The world was beautiful. I just saw different shades of grey during the fall before I met George.

We started seeing each other more. I bite the inside of my cheek when I cry about him. I feel unworthy of the perfection of us together. How we met when I needed him, and how we compliment each other so well despite everything.

I dream of a honeymoon in Italy. I dream of his face when he sees the beauty of our destination, and his body wet from ocean water.

I feel annoyed at how emotional I am. I wake up crying sometimes, because the beauty of my scenarios are terrifying.

I see the world in notes, and I play them for him... and he undresses every time I do. I wonder if his type in the past were guys like me.

I fuel his ego, my beautiful songs doing something to his body because he knows they are all about him.

I crave the way he takes my instrument, places it slowly on my counter to not ruin it in any way, and climbs on top of me.

I didn't fall in love slowly. I blink fast so I never miss a second of him. His voice is the music I'd prefer, and his body is as beautiful and delicate as a porcelain sculpture.

I'm in heaven with him, and in hell thinking life could ever lack him. My art will not be beautiful, and my world will lack color if my muse ever leaves.

759 words