I think I'm Dumb or Maybe Just Happy (Invader Zim x Reader)

8: As the Earth Runs to the Ground, Oh Girl, it's You that I Lie With

Sparks flew as a flamethrower was aimed at a piece of metal. The dark underground lab was lit by only that and the faint glow of an alien’s Pak. His human would’ve noticed, had they been here, that the fire was reflected in his ruby-colored eyes. (No. Not his. ‘The’ human.) The tool dropped with a heavy clank on the table. Gloved hands met with eyes, squinted shut, where the fiery reflection had been and rubbed at it.

“What has that human done to me?” Zim groaned.

He’d done his best to stay awake without thinking of the human who’d poisoned his brain, to no avail. Every moment he spent working on his plan, memories from the previous hours played in his mind like background music. It was as if the Irken could still feel their lips and hands over him. His thoughts were split between threats and insults, and content sighs and dreamy eyes.

Shame seemed to hit him from every direction. Whether from his reaction to their words and touches or the sheer judgment he imagined from his people. Zim was never good with feelings. There was a point in his life in which he prided himself in that. It took a lot to waver his confidence even slightly. But this human, this affection, didn’t break a sweat. It was enough to give him an identity crisis. So much so that even work couldn’t distract him. And without that option, he had no idea how to deal with these emotions.

He’d been on the verge of tears when he came home, covering his mouth with a fist in speechless disgust. If he hadn’t been so shaken he might have punched himself in the lips. Gir looked worried when he walked in. He offered a hug. Zim merely shoved him away with the same hand. The other was busy wrapped around his torso in a subconscious attempt at comforting himself. Zim hadn’t looked at the robot’s mechanical eyes. He retired to his lab with small, quick steps. Surprisingly, Gir only watched.

The Irken shook the thoughts and tears away to the best of his abilities. Try as he might, the feelings never left him. His face fell forward on his arms and his hand brushed over his antennae momentarily. He clutched the top back of his head with his claws before they too gave up and fell by his head. The alien crossed his arms and lay his head more comfortably in them. He glanced from the corner of his eyes at the flamethrower beside him. He considered coming back to your apartment and setting it on fire. With you still in it, of course.

He dug his head further down as he realized that even the thought of that hurt him. Zim didn’t care for you, that much was true. He didn’t know you well enough for that. But he liked being with you. He liked the praise and smiles and touches. Even the music, food, and the sights. No one ever treated him nicely, and now he craved that. But Invaders needed no one. These feelings were almost tangible proof of his defects. It made him feel unworthy, not just of his position but of being an Irken.

He hadn’t realized that it was possible to miss something he never had. But now that he’d gotten 'the recognition he so deserved' he longed for it even more.

As much as he tried to forget it all as he slaved the night away; he was fully aware that, had you been here and had you offered it, he would not have hesitated even for a moment to kiss you again. Zim glared at the table he was now facing. And, with a heavy sigh, he lifted his head. He faced, instead, his unfinished project and grasped at his tools. He was determined to finish this, even if some human decided to keep his mind busy. Soon they'll all be dead anyway. He’d make sure of it.

“Yes… What does it matter? I am Zim! No human could possibly interfere with my plans!”

He moved the protective goggles hanging on his neck up to his eyes. He forgot to put them on appropriately before, probably due to his distractions.

“Ugh. They could have ruined my precious eyes.”

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