OUT OF THIS WORLD .. ben tennyson x reader

vi. Pools

"It sucks you couldn't come to the lake with us," Gwen hums, turning the page of her book. "Your hair looks nice though, I'm glad you could fix it."

[name] removes her cheek from Gwen's head and angles her neck so she can better see her. "You think?"

Closing the book around her finger, Gwen lifts herself off [name]'s shoulder and sits up. "Of course! I've seen a few girls at my school wear it like that too, yours just looks.. better! More alive, if that makes sense?"

[name] raises a tendril of hair, trying to keep the rest from splaying into a halo around her. "Thank you," she hums, toying with it. "I had to fight to make this look right."

"How much did it cost?"

[name] almost forgot that hair stylists and shops existed. She never paid attention to the prices given she never had to use them, so would she believe her if she said it cost absolutely nothing?

She'd tell a half-truth instead.

"It was free," she answers, noting how there wasn't the viscous feeling of mucus. Instead, it felt like the oil one of the Plumbers had rubbed on her when she first reached Earth. "The women who did them said they'd do it if I babysat their kids."

Gwen lets out a quiet "wow," turning her head this way and that to get a better look at her hair. She squeaks when [name] passes the loc off to her, gingerly feeling the soft texture of it. "How long did it take?"

(It takes a lot to not let the hair wrap around Gwen's finger.)

"There were three women," who wanted to heal an ailing dog by feeding her food, "so half a day maybe."

Gwen lets out another noise of amazement while she carefully places the loc among the rest. "You've seriously gotta tell me your maintenance routine," she hums, laying back on [name]'s should and reopening her book. "My friend's been wanting to try out something like that."

Licking her lips, [name] feels caught in her overly elaborate lie. What had the women at the base done when they were fixing their hair again? "Just oil the scalp and wrap it up at night, that's all I do at least."

"I'll be sure to get you something to decorate them with then," Gwen responds before suddenly turning onto her stomach. She looks at [name] with wide puppy eyes almost. "That makes me remember to! When's your birthday?"

Oh, Ancient Ones.

[name] gives her an unsure smile, hand patting along her spine when her arm digs a little too far into her stomach. "When's yours?"

"December twenty-seventh." Gwen's brows furrow at how she deflected, but she doesn't question it. When her lips pursed to ask the question again, Ben slams the RV door open and throws his wallet at the two.

"Was I supposed to learn we were going to Aunt Vera's on my own, or were either of you gonna tell me?"

Gwen scrambles to sit up and hits her head on the top bunk, hissing and grabbing the back of it while glaring at Ben. "Aunt Vera isn't as bad as you make her sound," she says, sitting on the edge of the bed. "You don't understand how excited she gets when we visit."

"I could rob you right now," [name] hums, taking the wallet that landed on her face and turning on her side away from them. She opens it up, raising a brow at the picture of Ben and a gold-plated image of the wrestler staring up at her.

(She thinks it's one of those cards she got him, but she doesn't want to assume or comment on it.)

Ben is quick to hand Gwen's bowl of froyo off to her and reach over to [name], trying to take the wallet back. "You won't! I paid for your ice cream!"