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BROKEN BOY (ENDEARING)
( Mark Grayson aka Invincible! x reader || shitty pizza date after an even shittier mission, pizza in the image below does NOT correlate with how badly the pizza tastes in the fic, mentions of minor injuries bc mark is being mark)
"This pizza tastes like cardboard." You comment as you try to chew on its crust, giving up entirely once your jaw starts to hurt. You toss the half-eaten pizza onto your plate, catching Mark's attention.
He can barely look out of his left eye, but compared to most of the fights he's been through, this was probably the best shape he's been in weeks. "We could go somewhere better." He suggests with a glint in his right eye, the one that wasn't swollen and bruised. Mark already had an idea in mind, carrying you in his arms, bringing you all the way to Italy-
You quickly shoot his idea down before he can even say it. "Nuh, uh, mister. Your ass isn't going anywhere till you can look straight without squinting." You say as you get up from your chair, rummaging through the fridge for something else to eat besides cardboard pizza crust and thinning dough slathered in artificial tomato paste.
Mark frowns slightly at your answer, even though he wholeheartedly expected it.
"I can order takeout if you want." He suggests instead, trying his best to reassure you with a smile. Even though it hurt for him to lift the corners of his lips.
"I'll order takeout. Sit your ass down, Mark." You say, lifting your head out of the fridge.
"There's nothing in the fridge anyway." You close its door with a sigh, not surprised in the slightest that there wasn't anything remotely edible besides some questionable-looking orange juice. You haven't been grocery shopping in weeks.
"How do you feel about pho?" You ask, looking over at Mark for his answer.
"Haven't had pho in a while." Mark subconsciously smiles again, seemingly growing used to the slight pain in his cheeks. He was Invincible, after all. Even if he got his ass kicked, he still bounced back.
You walk up to his seat, wrapping your arms around his shoulders as you lean in for a kiss. "That's the spirit." You praise sweetly, kissing the apple of his cheek.
