Marvel Rare Pair Bingo [Round 3] - Square B1 Celebrity AU [feat. Veterinarian AU] + Peter Quill/Thor
must love snakes [T+, mentions of attempted murder, 600 word count]
Peter Quill’s your everyday, average Midwestern veterinarian - if anything, he’s been accused of below average his fair amount of times in the past. Sure, he barely made it through high school, and then barely stayed alive for a couple of years immediately, not to mention almost got murked by his biological father, but he cleaned his act up before going so far there would’ve been no turn back, reconnected with his grandfather, went to school, had a wonderful ten years with the love of his life - before the whole attempted murder caused amnesia thing, it’s a lot -, met his little sister, and opened his very own clinic with Mantis, Nebula and Drax.
He still has a messy personal life, and is only just getting over the fact that he’s not getting back with Gamora even if she gained all her memories back, but he has his people beside him, hits the local bar only once a week rather than almost daily, and leads a mostly simple but still fulfilling life. He’s watched the Hallmark movies, he’s read the fucking fanfiction for Heaven’s sake, but any thoughts of accidentally meeting divine Norwegian-English actors and being whisked away into a life of excitement, occasional luxury and true, ever-lasting love, are strictly in the realm of day-dreaming during particularly slow days at the clinic or late-night fantasizing when he’s not exhausted enough to drop dead on his bed with Rocket Racoon, the Dog, at his feet.
Peter’s not counting on Thor Borson - the aforementioned divine Norwegian-English actor - filming a western or something in his beloved Missouri or the fact that he’s renting a small farmhouse just outside St. Charles, his own fucking town. He’s especially not considering the fact that the man really, really loves snakes, that the reason he’s renting a house instead of something smaller and cheaper is to be able to keep his babies - four adult snakes and two geckos - with him at all times, or that he’s a very doting, protective caretaker to said babies.
All of that to say, Peter genuinely doesn’t expect anything out of the ordinary when he gets to work one morning like any other, half asleep and only on his second coffee mug, overheating with the uncharacteristically hot late winter morning - fuck climate change, for real, even he gets it and Nebula tells him he’s dumb as rocks on the daily -, and trying to reel Rocket Racoon, the Dog, the Smartphone Destroyer and Ankle Biter in. He specifically doesn’t expect to finally get Rocket Racoon, the Dog, the Motherfucking Asshole, to settle down with Nebula while she’s doing inventory, only to turn around, walk into the box office for his first consultation of the day, and come face to face with his favorite celebrity only second to Pat Benatar, and the protagonist of many of Peter’s inappropriate reveries, Thor Borson himself… Who’s freaking the fuck out of his mind about his beloved brazilian rainbow boa, Iris, possibly dying on him, over a very simple, mild buccal infection, of all things too.
On one hand, he gets heart palpitations, but on the other he also gets more ammo against Nebula and Gamora picking on him whenever he worries about Rocket eating the wrong thing. And of course there’s the whole added bonus of being personally treated to the sight of quite literally a Norse god - it’s right there in the name, don’t look at him - for several weeks as he helps nurse the snake back to full health. Sounds like a win-win situation to him.
He doesn’t expect the Norwegian-English god of an actor to start making heart eyes at him, either.
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