Professor Membrane x Reader

Membrane x Dancer! Reader

Requests are open my dudes 👀

Outside POV

"Haha! Dad can't dance!" A purple haired child exclaimed. This was Gaz. Gaz was, honestly, kinda mean. She was bullying her father at dinner. Why? For, well, not being able to dance.

"Daughter, I don't see how that is a bad thing. Why would that interfere with my probability of copulation?" Her father said.

"Don't you know that... normal people like romance?" Gaz said, "Dib and I need someone else to care for us when you're at work." She paused, adding "Someone human" before turning her head in Clembrane's direction. He waved.

"Explain to me how that correlates, Gazlene, I'm not quite comprehending." Membrane said.

Gaz fumbled in her seat, obviously perturbed. Gritting her teeth, she slowly grumbled, "Dancing... is romantic... Dad." This man of science was as smart as he was dense. In more ways than one.

Gaz watched the gears turn in her father's head. After a few moments, he finally seemed to process what she was saying.

"How does the movement of your body increase your chances of intercourse?" Gaz sneered at the thought of her dad's sex life.

"Just... that's not important. Point is that you need to learn." She said. "Or else, I'm going to keep bullying you." Her face was deathly serious. No one could survive Gaz's teasing for long. Membrane steeled himself. He would survive it.

He did not survive it. He gave in after two long hours of Gaz's bullying. Defeated, he found a private tutor and set a date. It came sooner than he had expected. Grabbing jeans and a turtleneck, he set out towards his tutor.

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Membrane stood at the entrance to a studio. Was this the place? It was rather small... but not everyone was rich. He knocked on the door and waited.

After a few moments, someone opened the door. They were wearing a white tank-top and black yoga pants. Obviously Membrane dressed to warm for this.

"Hi! I'm (Y/N)! I'm guessing you're my client?" Membrane nodded and smiled. They seemed rather chipper.

"Do you have any background we could work from?" They asked.

"Well, I'm Mexican-oh you meant dancing background." (Y/N) smiled at the now flustered man.

"Let me guess. You don't know anything, right?" (Y/N) asked. The poor man of science grumbled a half-embarrassed "no".

(Y/N) smiled. "Excellent! A clean slate!" Their excitement was infectious and soon Membrane found himself smiling too.

"Where should we start?" He asked. He was eager to begin. At first he wanted to get this over with but now he genuinely wanted to learn how to dance. (Y/N) gracefully walked over to a bulky CD player.

"First, I'm gonna need your name." They said. Membrane looked around before sheepishly asking if they knew who he was. "No, not really. I just do private tutoring.

With the renewed confidence anonymity brings, Membrane answered the question. "I'm Miguel."

"In all seriousness, Miguel, we're going to start by learning the basic steps of the salsa. Something that should come easy to you." They said, picking up the stereo. They walked over to a table, setting it down, when Membrane noticed the rhythmic pattern their footsteps had. It seemed as if they were dancing to a beat.