It's a tough life for female comic book characters. If you aren't being killed off/raped/depowered/kidnapped to motivate your gormless love interest, you're being fitted for your back brace in order to balance your hilariously over=sized super-boobs.
But to make things worse, the potential mates out there among the superheroes will probably convince you you're better off alone. Such as ...
6Spider-Man AKA Peter Parker
Mary Jane Watson
Spider-Man has a certain Hugh Grant-esque bumbling sweetness about him, and legs that go on for miles.
Spider-Man's a wisecracker. Everyone knows that, it's one of his defining character traits. However, audiences only have to tolerate Spider-Man's lip for 28 pages every couple of weeks, or a couple hours every few years. Imagine trying to live with the guy. Imagine trying to have sex with the guy:
"So I guess that's where I left that web-shooter!"
On top of that, he's a terrible provider. Costumed vigilantism gets you tons of headlines and the adoration of millions but the pay amounts to all the spare change he can salvage from window ledges and pigeons' nests. The good news? That's still more than your average freelance photographer pulls in.
Spider-Man sold his marriage to Satan. Just read that sentence over a couple more times, let it marinate. Done? OK, allow us to explain:
Spider-Man, in one of his trademark haphazard attempts at doing the right thing, unmasked himself on national television. This led to the Kingpin putting a hit on the wall-crawler, and Aunt May eating the sniper round intended for her dimwitted nephew. With his former caregiver in a deteriorating coma, Spider-Man's angst began approaching critical levels, attracting the attention of the demon Mephisto.
Mephisto, feeling generous, proposed a deal to Spidey: Aunt May would be returned to full health, bullet-free, but in return ...
... he would have to give up his marriage to Mary Jane. For some reason.
Spidey hemmed and hawed for a while, but eventually came to the logical decision: Abandon countless future years of happiness with the woman he loves in exchange for giving his octogenarian aunt a chance to die of heart failure or something.
The marriage of Peter Parker and Mary Jane Watson could be likened to a Toyota Prius with faulty brakes: Comfortable and reliable under most circumstances, but destined to eventually flatten itself against a brick wall. And ultimately, not worth it.