You had just recently got braces because of your mis-matched teeth. Sadly you had gotten your mother’s genes, making your teeth look like convergent plates from the earth’s core.

Of course, since Denki was your lover, he was your main source of complaint. You were always complaining to him about your tooth aches and food options like he was a dentist. He of course felt bad, but what was he supposed to do?

—

Denki was currently in your room. He was laying on his stomach with his phone in his hands. You were comfortably laid on his your his chin on the top of his head while you observed his phone screen.

Suddenly, you groan, complaining into the back on the boy’s neck.

“I love you, hun. But you gotta chill with the teeth stuff..” He grumbles, a nervous, stupid smile on his face.