Her Guardian || Demon! Dream Sans x Reader

BONUS - DANCE

So this is going to take place before the events of the story, and since it's technically a flashback, it's canon. But it still counts as a bonus since you don't have to read it (though I recommend you do) and it's a breather from what's going on in the other chapters. If you're unfamiliar with my bonus chapters, they're meant to be a non-canon break from the story that's filled with fluff and no stakes, letting you relax instead of stressing about what's to come (kind of like an in-universe one-shot). Obviously this one is canon but that's only because Dance deserves his own little chapter and it lets me flesh out your relationship with him as well as adding lore to your backstory. Anyways, I hope you enjoy <3

🎵I'm never gonna dance again, guilty feet have got no rhythm...🎶

The sound of music broke the stillness of the house and quiet hums could be heard matching the lyrics playing from (Y/n)'s phone. She busied herself in the kitchen, dancing along the polished wooden floors as she stirred spaghetti in the cooking pot and cooked ground beef beside it, grabbing some tomato sauce out of the cupboard to set beside the stove. She seasoned the meat as the song came to an end, the sound of cooking meat background noise as she was lost in thought.

Her dad and Dance had a summoning later today so she wanted to get them fed before then. Food didn't help a lot when it came to refilling a summoner's magic, but it did max out their HP, and with all the love (Y/n) was putting into the dish, the two would be more than ready for the summoning. Dad told her it was going to be a Demon King, and he quickly assured her that Dance was—as always—there if anything went wrong. She trusted Dance with Dad's life—he'd never given her any reason not to—so instead she focused her energy on preparing them food so they could complete the summoning without issue.

"Hey allegro." A voice came from behind her, and she turned with a smile to see Dance sliding into the room. 'Allegro' meant 'lively' in Italian, and as a musical term meant to denote cheerful, upbeat music, he thought it fit the girl perfectly. He'd been around the girl since she was 12 and a half, and watching her grow up to be the woman she was now made him oddly proud, but she never lost that cheerful, upbeat nature—even if she tried to claim she was a mature adult now.

"Hey cymbals," (Y/n) shot back with a playful grin. She called him that because he came crashing into her life and scared her a lot of the time by appearing out of nowhere, and he thought it was clever so it stuck around—though it was mostly just to see her smile. Dance let out a soft laugh as he grabbed her hand, spinning her around as his head bopped to the beat of the music. It was hip-hop, his personal favorite, and he couldn't help but dance with his girl. He gave off an infectious aura that made her soul want to dance along with him, and while she hadn't exactly been great at dancing when Dance first came into her life, he'd taught her everything he knew about the art form. It was like simply being around him allowed her the ability to move to the beat, like a magical trance that granted her expertise.

Dance spun (Y/n) around the room, their souls mirroring their movements as they circled each other. Something about the way he danced spoke to her soul, like it wasn't just a way of life to him, but something that affected the very culmination of his being. He'd told her he used dancing to fight back home, but when he was with her, the dance moves had a different meaning entirely. She couldn't explain how she felt closer to him when they danced together, like her very soul was practically touching his, like he was bonding with her on more than just a physical level, but there was something about him that drew her in and kept her feet moving even when she'd long run out of breath to dance.

When she first met Dance, he hesitated to show off any of his moves. He kept his hood up and his hands firmly in his pockets—like he was scared to dance in front of anyone and lost his motivation due to the harshness of the demon world. But one day, as she was goofing off in the living room and dancing poorly to the music from her phone, Dance watched her with something akin to longing in his white eyelights. It was like her passion reignited something in him and chipped away the last of his remaining hesitation, and he interrupted her pitiful display to give her some advice. It was like he spoke a whole different language, using Italian terminology—what most of the musical language composed of—as he explained, and when she only looked up at him with confusion, he smiled nervously and demonstrated what he meant. It was like the music took control of his very soul as he spun around, breakdancing and moving around the room to the flow of the song, like the vibrations of the sound were guiding his very movements.