This is Love

You must like being the victim

You've done nothing to get out

It was fun at first. The rush that came with the relationship was rather enticing. If such a feeling came in a bottle, then this wouldn't be necessary. He wouldn't be screaming at the top of his lungs or throwing objects in your direction. Such a temper was the reason you fell in love with this man, but now it was the reason you cowered in fear. "Are you even listening to me? You're so fucking useless. Look at you, a fucking shell with no purpose. Get the fuck out of my face. You disgust me." Those were the kinder words and the way one of those heavy boots fell on your stomach? That was his mercy.

I think you better tell your friends to go

Not a single soul seemed to notice at the beginning. Hawks' temper was only present in the bedroom then. Those tantalizing hands left beautiful marks. They decorated your skin like tiny purple galactic tattoos. His temper slowly expanded into your daily lives without warning. Soon it was near impossible to love the markings, let alone hide them. Everyone soon grew concerned and you became their favorite subject. "Why haven't you left him?" They always made it sound so easy. "You should report that guy to the police!" Have they forgotten he, a hero, would be there before she could even call the police? No one knew you to be his, you were his secret and if something like this came out to ruin the number two hero? You'd surely meet your end.

You might think you can hurt me

But the damage has been done

Hawks was a man who adored control and thrived off loyalty, but he wasn't one to tolerate childish fits. "I'm done! You can't have me like this anymore more!" These fits irritated him more, especially when they held no truth to them, "Fuck you!"

In fact, it was the top thing he hated the most. The disrespect that came from it. Such disrespect that you dared dish out. He almost wanted to laugh when he heard such words fall from your mouth. Hawks was perfection and you were lucky enough to even be with him. No one could ever satisfy you the way he does. Despite how much he loathed this side of you he allowed these fits. Never would he let you go, remember that. He always had a way with words, "You wouldn't survive. Before you could even take a step out of my life I'd make sure death would be lingering around every corner. You'd be so afraid you'd call me once it reaches you. You'd call my name and that would be the last thing you'd say. Leave and I promise I will make your short life a living hell up until your last breath."

But my love, love, fuck it, this is love

During times of peace, in your relationship, you'd feel a sense of relief. These times were rare for the hero, so you enjoyed every second of it. When these times did fall upon you, there was always a glimmer of hope. His arms were warm as he embraced you, lips lovingly pressed kisses on every inch of your skin and those thrusts were painfully good. His teeth were sharp and his moans intoxicating. This was the man you loved. A lustful man with loving lips who adored marking what belonged to him. These nights always came to an end, unfortunately. Morning would follow these moments and right around the corner was his wrath. "Get the hell out of my bed." Nevertheless, you loved him, for better or for worse.