cosmic girl. . .‧˚꒰🪐꒱༘‧
space boy and cosmic girl pairing: Peter Quill x alien!f!reader genre: angst/comfort • tensions • friends to lovers notes: You are an alien from the planet 'Zeltor Prime', the galaxy’s central hub for music, rhythm, and sound itself. For many human years, you have been best friends with Peter 'Star-Lord' Quill, though you prefer to call him "Spaceboy." What you didn't know about your best friend was that... he had developed a bit of a crush on you. But... much to Peter's unfortunate, mingling with other species wasn't something your home planet encouraged. MINORS DNI!! masterlist join my taglist ─── ꒰ 🚀 ꒱ ───
chapter 1 – disco fever 🪩
The past few weeks had been unusually quiet.
Not because there wasn't trouble somewhere in the galaxy, there always was, but because you weren't around.
Peter hadn't thought much of it at first. The two of you had spent years coming and going from each other's lives.
Ever since you were reckless teenagers stealing fuel cells and talking your way out of trouble, there had always been periods apart.
After all, you also were the newly selected Guardian of Zeltor Prime, responsible for an entire planet.
Peter was busy saving the galaxy, or… just doing nothing on slow days.
It was normal.
So why the hell did everything feel different this time?
Maybe it was because every ridiculous thing that happened made him want to tell you about it.
Maybe it was because his communicator felt strangely empty without your messages.
Or maybe it was because he came to the slow realization that he really had developed a very inconvenient crush on his best friend.
A crush he absolutely wasn't prepared to deal with.
“You’re really that excited to see her again?” Rocket snorted a laugh, catching Peter off guard.
Peter nearly choked on his drink, “What–”
“You got that stupid look.” Rocket joked, “That one. The lovesick idiot look.”
Peter groaned and tried to brush it off, “I’m just excited to see my …friend again.”
Fortunately, Peter was spared from further humiliation when the Milano dropped out of jump space. Their destination glittered ahead of them, a massive entertainment station famous for its music and nightlife.
You had suggested meeting there.
A few hours later, Peter found himself stepping into one of the largest disco bars he'd ever seen.
The place was alive.
Music thundered through the walls.
Neon lights flashed overhead in every imaginable color.
Aliens danced on elevated platforms while robotic performers spun around.
Rocket disappeared almost immediately.
“Try not to scare her off before I get back!” the raccoon shouted before vanishing into the sea of people.
Peter flipped him off before he started looking around.
Because despite the hundreds of people packed into the room, there was only one person he'd actually come to see.
His gaze swept across the dance floor.
Across the tables.
Across the crowded bar.
And then he found you.
You were impossible to miss.
Surrounded by several alien friends, you sat perched on a barstool, laughing at something one of them had said.
Even your gestures seemed to move with the rhythm of the music, your species' natural gift.
The glowing accents woven into your outfit caught the flashing lights as you leaned against the counter.
For a moment, Peter simply stood there, because seeing you again felt a little like finally coming home.
Then you glanced up, your eyes landing directly on him, and your entire face lit up.
“Spaceboy!” you cheered, immediately abandoning your drink as you pushed through the crowd toward him.
Peter couldn't stop the grin spreading across his face.
“Hey–” he said, but was cut off by you throwing your arms around him without hesitation.
Just like you always had.
Only this time, Peter was painfully aware of how much he didn't want to let go.
“What brings you to a disco bar?” you teased as you pulled back, still smiling. “Last time I checked, these places gave you headaches.”
Peter laughed, “You know I only came because you invited me.”
“True.” you winked, “Good to know I've still got influence over the legendary Star-Lord.”
And just like that, Peter remembered exactly why he'd fallen for you in the first place.
Which was unfortunate.
Because sitting only a few seats away were several of your Zel'tori friends.
And if there was one thing Peter knew about your people, it was that they didn't exactly approve of relationships with outsiders.
“Oh, you know,” Peter said with an easy shrug. “Rocket said I needed to get out more. His exact words were something like 'stop moping and go talk to women.'”
You immediately let out a laugh, the sound carrying a playful synthesizer melody beneath it.
“That does sound like Rocket.” you hummed, clearly amused.
“It was either come here and see you or listen to him complain.” Peter smirked.
“A difficult choice.” you said, rolling your eyes.
Peter found himself smiling.
“Ooooh…” you hummed curiously, sounding almost like a keyboard riff. “So Rocket brought you here to find somebody? Any success so far, Spaceboy?”
Peter nearly laughed, if only you knew.
“Not really.” he said, awkwardly rubbing the back of his neck.
You glanced around, “Well, there's at least three people staring at you right now. Maybe you can start there!” you offered.
“Yeah, but that's not helping.” Peter let out a soft sigh.
That made you laugh again, the sound was melodic, almost like a symphony of its own.
“Distracted from the main mission, Spaceboy?” you asked.
“Maybe.” he huffed in response, causing you to tilt your head.
“By what?”
Peter should have changed the subject.
He really should have.
Instead he found himself looking directly at you.
“Well…” you hummed thoughtfully interrupting his train of thought, the sound carrying a playful keyboard melody beneath it. “If she's somebody I know, I could probably help.”
You glanced over toward your table, where several of your Zel'tori friends were waving enthusiastically.
“Y/N!” one of them called.
You waved back before turning to Peter again.
“Ooooh!” Your eyes lit up. “Wait. Is it Kiquy?”
You pointed toward one of your friends.
The deep blue Zel'tori looked up from her drink over at the two of you.
Peter stared, then stared at you, then back at Kiquy.
Then back at you.
The fact that you seemed genuinely excited made this infinitely worse.
“Kiquy?” he repeated.
“She's lovely!” you immediately clapped your hands together in enthusiasm.
Peter pressed his lips together, and squeezed out a half convinced, “... Right.”
“I could introduce you properly!” You added, but as you saw his expression you hesitated, “So… Not Kiquy?”
“No.”
“Oh.” you hummed, tapping your chin thoughtfully as a soft melody escaped you as you scanned the crowded bar.
Peter knew that look.
You were solving a problem.
Unfortunately, the problem was him.
“Okay…” you said slowly. “What about her?”
You pointed at a tall blue alien near the dance floor.
“No.”
You pointed somewhere else.
“Her?”
“No.”
“What about–”
“No.” he interrupted you before you even pointed out someone else.
You turned on your heels, now facing him again.
“Oh my stars, you're impossible.” you laughed now, “I don't think you actually like anybody in here.”
Peter met your eyes, for a second something flickered behind his eyes, and suddenly the answer felt dangerously close to escaping.
“Maybe I do.” he said, the words almost too quiet to be heard.
You blinked, tilting your head.
Peter's heart thumped.
Just say it.
Tell her.
Instead, someone from your table shouted your name again.
“Y/N!”
The moment shattered instantly, you gave him a quick cheeky smile before you looked over your shoulder.
“My friends are getting impatient.” you sighed.
Peter released a breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding.
Saved by terrible timing.
Again.
You nudged his shoulder playfully, “Don’t worry, I’ll be back in a second and then we will figure out who your mystery girl is!”
The playful keyboard melody returned to your voice.
Peter watched you walk back toward your friends, gesturing at them and grabbing your drink.
You downed the neon liquid before pointing at the dance floor and then back at him.
With great horror Peter realised what you were probably telling them.
For a moment he seriously considered letting a meteor hit him.
But you were already joyfully hopping back towards him.
“Let's dance!” you cheered, Peter couldn’t help but playfully groan.
His protests fell to deaf ears as you had already grabbed his wrist.
Peter immediately lost the argument.
A triumphant laugh escaped you as you pulled him along, “Come on.”
Before he could protest further, you were already dragging him toward the dance floor.
It was pure chaos there, lights flashed overhead, music pulsed through the floor beneath your feet and above them, a massive disco sphere rotated.
And right in the middle of it all…
You absolutely came alive.
Peter had seen you dance before.
Hundreds of times.
At festivals on Zeltor Prime.
At parties that had lasted until sunrise on planets he'd long forgotten the name of.
But tonight felt different.
Maybe because it had been weeks since he'd seen you.
Maybe because he'd finally admitted certain things to himself.
Or maybe because he couldn't stop looking at you.
You moved effortlessly with the music.
The rhythm seemed to belong to you as much as it belonged to the song itself.
A Zel'tori in their element.
They weren’t called the popstars of aliens for no reason.
Peter, meanwhile, was trying his best not to embarrass himself, which wasn't going particularly well.
You laughed when he nearly stepped on someone else’s toes.
You spun toward him, grabbing his hands as you pulled him into another turn.
For a brief moment, the crowd disappeared.
The music disappeared.
Everything disappeared.
There was only your smile.
The familiar warmth of being together again.
And Peter suddenly realised he'd missed this far more than he'd been willing to admit.
You released his hands and spun away again, throwing your arms into the air as the lights flashed around you.
Peter watched, smiling helplessly.
By the time the club finally began shutting down, the dance floor had thinned considerably.
The two of you had somehow managed to stay until the very end, which wasn’t unusual.
Whenever you got together, time had a habit of disappearing.
Laughing breathlessly, you stumbled out of the club and onto the neon-lit street beyond.
Your hand was still wrapped around Peter's.
“You stepped on at least six people's feet!” you laughed as you commented on his still equally bad dancing skills.
Peter looked offended, “That's an exaggeration.”
“It's really not.” you chuckled and Peter couldn’t help but join in.
The cool night air felt good after the heat of the crowded dance floor.
Above them, glowing advertisements floated between huge buildings.
You finally slowed, turning to face him, still smiling.
“Honestly,” you said, trying and failing to look serious. “How are you this bad at dancing after all these years?”
Peter put a hand over his chest, “Ouch… and I thought I was improving.” he joked.
“Well,” you said, glancing around the bustling street. “We will still have to work on that…”
You looked around again, “Did you ever find Rocket again?”
Peter blinked, right, Rocket…
He'd almost forgotten he hadn't come alone.
Peter found himself looking at you again, and you noticed.
“What?” you asked, raising an eyebrow.
“Nothing.” Peter said, clearing his throat.
“You've been doing that all night.” you noted, narrowing your eyes as you tilted your head in an attempt to suss him out.
“The staring thing.” you added.
“I don't have a staring thing.” Peter defended himself.
“You absolutely have a staring thing.” you nodded with a playful hum.
“Oh, this is priceless.” a familiar voice interrupted.
Peter closed his eyes immediately, because he knew exactly who it belonged to.
“Please tell me I'm interrupting something.” Rocket cackled.
Rocket stood a few feet away with the most insufferable grin imaginable.
Beside him, you immediately brightened.
“Oh! Hey Rocket!” you smiled.
Rocket's gaze shifted between the two of you.
Then downward to your joined hands.
Peter followed his gaze and realised he was still holding yours.
Rocket's grin widened, “Oh… Ohhhhh! Oh, this is way worse than I thought.”
“Rocket.” Peter said with a warning tone.
“You didn't tell me you two were at the hand-holding stage.” Rocket continued anyway.
You blinked, then looked down, then back up at Peter, “What is a hand-holding stage?”
Rocket chuckled into his paw.
Peter immediately stepped forward, “Nothing..”
“No, because now I gotta know how long this has been going on.” Rocket laughed on.
You glanced between them.
Then at Peter.
Then back at Rocket.
The confusion on your face only grew.
“Ignore him,” Peter said quickly, giving your hand a light, grounding squeeze. “Rocket is just … being Rocket.”
He shot his friend a warning look, one that said stop talking or I’ll leave you here.
Rocket only grinned wider.
“Alright, alright,” he said, raising his paws in surrender. “I’ll behave… for now.”
"I should probably go," you said suddenly, still smiling as you adjusted your grip on Peter’s hand.
Peter’s chest tightened a little at that.
You leaned up without hesitation, pressing a quick kiss to his cheek.
Your lipstick left a bright mark on his skin.
"Yeah," he managed, voice rougher than intended. "I… yeah. I should too."
You smiled like everything was exactly as it always should be.
“Text me later.” you smiled, and let go.
“Yeah.” Peter croaked.
You stepped back, still glowing faintly under the neon lights.
“Bye, Spaceboy!” you called, waving as you were already leaving.
Then you blew him a kiss.
And that should’ve been normal.
You always did things like that.
Except Peter couldn’t stop watching it like it was the first time he’d ever seen you.
“Bye,"”he said quietly.
Too quiet for you to hear over the city.
You disappeared and Rocket immediately saw his opportunity to add his opinion on the matter.
“Well,” he said, far too pleased with himself. “That was painful…You’ve got it bad, ‘Spaceboy’.”
“I don’t–”
“Oh, you absolutely do.” Rocket chuckled as Peter finally wiped the lipstick off his cheek.
“Shut up, Rocket.”
─── ꒰ 🚀 ꒱ ───
a/n: no I will NEVER shut up about Chris Pratt characters... so WHAT? Sue me...!!