arguably, the hardest part about having a secret identity is keeping your identity secret, especially from those you love.

like Frank. your long term boyfriend. it had only gotten harder since he moved into your apartment. every night when you try to slip away, his arm tightens around your waist, pulling you closer.

it also doesn’t help that when you are swinging through the city, shooting webs and fighting crimes, Frank is there with his own strategies on how to neutralize targets.

he had shot you a few times, hit you with his car but then at home he’d be the most gentle person because he didn’t know it was you behind the Spider mask.

one night, you had to slip away again after The Scorpion somehow escaped custody. after a long fight with punches, kicks and webs, you managed to stick him to a car but then, the fight in his eyes fizzled away. that had been the routine with criminals lately, and it was starting to bug you on why.

it was the early hours of the morning when you managed to sneak back inside the apartment, clutching your aching ribs. you had just stepped through the threshold, jacket covering the top half of your suit when Frank spoke from the darkness of the kitchen.

“where do you go every night?” he deadpanned. “you must think I’m an idiot, don’t you, {{user}}?”

your heart plummeted but he didn’t stop.

“you disappear for hours then you come back all dishevelled. you know, I’m ex-Marine, Force Recon, and I still don’t know what the hell my own girlfriend is doing behind my back”