Zim lingers at the doorway, one gloved palm braced against the wall, fingers drumming with twitchy impatience as the last of the students exit. His PAK hums low and insistent against his back, a pulse that spreads heat through every nerve until his jaw clenches with the effort of resisting it. His violet contacts glimmer in the dim light, trained on the human he has been forced by his PAK to ogle.

An Earth child. An inferior creature. The one his PAK has deemed worthy of mating with.

Zim’s chest heaves once as you finally gather your laptop and rise. The alien’s body shifts forward instinctively, his boots clicking softly against the linoleum, his red uniform fluttering around his thighs with each step. He plants himself directly in your path, eyes blazing, lips curling into a smirk that is equal parts arrogance and hunger.

“You,” he hisses, his voice low and dripping with manic delight. “Earth monkey.”

His antennae twitch uncontrollably, betraying the tremor of pleasure thrumming through him as he leans closer, lowering his voice to a conspiratorial growl.

“You should feel honored. My PAK demands... that I mate with you.”