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The reason why the Avengers get their groceries delivered

Summary:

Sometimes Tony is speechless because his team (his family) does magnificent things.

Sometimes he is just speechless. This is one of those times.

Notes:

This is a thing that I just had to write.

I got most of the dialog from a Tumblr post made by misinterpretedmythology: The prompt that started it all

The incredible hellotwotimes has made fan art for this fic and I can't tell you all how amazed and thankful I am!!! I haven't figured out how to put the fan art on ao3 yet, but here is the link: for the beautiful drawing

Enjoy!

(See the end of the work for more notes.)

Work Text:

There is a reason why the Avengers have their groceries delivered to their doorstep. A good reason. A brilliant one, really, if you ask Tony. As always, lessons are best learned through pain. That’s how the saying goes, right?

Coming up from an engineering binge, he stumbled into the tower’s kitchen. His sole focus had been on the dark liquid enticingly dripping from his life source: The coffeemaker he built after one terrible morning the silver monstrosity someone – Jarvis, he was sure it was his fault – had bought, refused to give him the fluid of life and he had lost it. And maybe destroyed it with vicious vengeance.

The important information here was, he was focused on refilling his cup and had no desire whatsoever to get between the ‘Mightiest Heroes of Earth’ or how he liked to call them ‘The crazy people that lived off of his pockets and were way to loud and oh god, drop Peter this instance Thor or so help me…’ Yeah, it wasn’t catchy but he had given up a long time ago to-

“Mr. Stark!” Peter’s joy was clear in his voice and Tony just couldn’t bring himself to not react the way that would bring that happy smile to the boy’s lips. He was a sucker for the kid and by the smiles around the kitchen everyone knew it.

“What’s up Spiderling?” He ruffled the soft brown locks while passing, his eyes still fixed on the beautiful machine that would renew his will to live.

“Mr. Rogers just-”

“Call me Steve, Peter.” Steve interjected, but Peter ignored him and just babbled along.

“-told me that he hasn’t been groceries shopping. Can you imagine?”

“I can.” The wonderful smell of freshly brewed liquid luck filled the kitchen and Tony felt some of the strain already melting away.

“We should go shopping with him!”

“Peter-”

“Mr. Thor have you been groceries shopping?”

“No, I have not, young Stark.”

“I could use some things actually.” Nat murmured, appearing out of thin air, just behind Tony’s shoulder. He learned to not shit himself a couple years ago, when he accepted that this was his life now and it was far more possible that he would be killed by an overgrown pink bunny on a rampage than it was that the Russian assassin that lived with him would make do on one of her threatening glances. Ignorance is bliss after all.

“I’m driving!” Clint yelled excited. There was a clutter and something falling.

“Have fun.” Tony said, trying to just leave again into the organized chaos that was is haven, before they could rope him into—

Fifteen minutes later, he was still asking himself how the hell the Avengers had managed to get Happy to drive all of them in a limousine to get freaking groceries. The only reason he wasn’t outright trying to fling himself out of the window was that on his right side sat Peter, happily telling him about something or another he did with his friend the other day. Steve sat on his left, his leg pressing against his own, a smile dancing in his eyes and distracting Tony. His blue eyes should be registered as deadly weapons or possible means to alter someone mind, because Tony knew he had declined to accompany them to get groceries.

Of course, not even Tony could have anticipated the sheer destruction the Avengers could do while buying freaking groceries.

In hindsight it was so obvious. All of those idiot-people – family members, whatever – would use any outing to destroy his reputation and the reputation of the Avengers.

“I already explained it to you, Cap-”

“Then explain it again! Why is milk 4 dollars a gallon?”

The desperation and outrage in Steve’s voice would have been a delight, if his blue shiners weren’t set on Tony as if he knew the answers to the universe and could somehow make this right. But before he could think of something, the Spiderling ran up to him, dumping an arm full of instant ramen into his cart.

“Mr. Stark! They have a new shrimp flavor!”

This was even worse than the puppy dog eyes of the super soldier hoping Tony could make sense of anything! Really, he? Most people didn’t even think he knew what a supermarket was! (And maybe they weren’t totally wrong…) Now he had to act like a fucking adult, channeling his inner Pepper, to what? Save that damn kid from dying of whatever chemicals were in these supposedly edible abominations to nature? Him? He had lived of that stuff at MIT (and last week, but this was beside the point).

“Kid, that has no nutrition at-”

“Who wants bacon!” Natasha, cool, controlled Nat asked with an unholy glee in her eyes, dumping at least 20 packets of bacon in Tony’s cart.

“I’m a slut for Bacon!” Clint hollered behind her, dumping another 20 packets in the card, almost hiding the instant ramen that Tony just knew May and Pepper would blame him for and hadn’t he just tried to be reasonable? Peter was a growing boy and they really should set a better example.

Where was that stupid pink bunny on a rampage if you needed it?

He cast a frantic look over his shoulder. Steve had wandered off a little, still standing before the milk, a desperate look in his eyes. He was at least quiet for the moment. Looking around, he found Bruce standing before the tea assortment, his face scrunched up in deep thoughts as if he was trying to solve the questions to the universe.

“I mean they’re all good. This one is cheaper. But this one is my favorite.”

Tony felt something uncoil. He stepped forward, ignoring the assassins and his Spiderling plotting whatever devastating food choices they would possibly make (and wouldn’t Pepper be proud of him that he included the bacon in it, even if he would eat it?). Gently he placed a hand on the shoulder of his science bro.

“I’m a billionaire, Bruce. Take whatever tea you want. Hell, take all of them.”

“Friend Tony!” Thor’s voice boomed through the aisle and Tony really wished he wouldn’t just know that there were at least ten camera phones around filming this spectacle proving to everyone around that yes, the Avengers really were just that dorky.

“We shall feast tonight on the Pop of Tarts!”

Tony turned, thinking there was nothing that could still surprise him. He was wrong. Thor was pushing two carts of pop tarts towards them. Behind him lay a few packages on the ground that had fallen from the instable mountains that were quiet literally spilling over.

“What the fu-”

Strong warm hands grabbed Tony’s arm, turning him around to a distressed Steve who pushed a carton close enough to his face that he feared for a second he would just smack him with it.

“How do you get milk from an almond?!?”

“Steve-”

“Mr. Stark! Can we have cheese sticks too?”

Tony escaped the desperate eyes (though not the strong grip of the super soldier who seemed too close to a break down, and boy didn’t Tony knew that feeling right about now) to meet the pleading ones of Peter. If he didn’t react soon this could become a code trembling-lip and no one wanted that escalation.

“Pudding!” Natasha called from behind.

“Fuck your pudding!” Was Clint’s answering war cry.

The loud crash after that and the screeching wasn’t anything surprising. It still increased Tony’s headache by a tenfold.

Not looking in the direction of the battle sounds, he searched for his science bro, because someone else surely was able to take over the responsibility of being the adult in this situation, the sane one, right? No one could expect him to actually…

Bruce was now standing before the assortment of tea cookies. His forehead crinkled in thought. “I’m sure I have a coupon somewhere. Or we could get them if I decided on the cheaper tea…”

There went that hope.

“Mr. Stark! Cheetos are on sale!”

Tony didn’t look at the cart, ignoring the sounds of massive amounts of Cheetos being thrown into it. The tugging on his arm got more persistent and he turned again to face the pure confusion and panic of a man out of time.

“How do you milk an almond, Tony?!?”

It took Tony about an hour to get all of them out of the shop and back into the car. He made a setup with Jarvis that made sure every wish of the Avengers would be met – in reasonable amounts (Bruce got all the expensive tea and cookies he could wish for. The others got their poison in rations). He dealt with the destruction of the shop (by throwing several thousand dollars at it), the taken videos (he had Jarvis hack every phone in the vicinity and erase every footage), the ramen and pop tarts (he called Pepper, okay? But he took care that she knew and could deal with it).

He also took several hours out of his extremely busy day to sit down a frantic super soldier, watching probably all documentaries known to men about milk and all variations of it.

After that he put his foot down. No more groceries shopping for the Avengers. Ever.

(And if he broke that rule a couple weeks later when he took Steve back there before they went on their first date, that was nobody’s business.)

Notes:

Thanks for reading!

Oh and just FYI the other stories are loosely connected. This one isn’t.... not really. But it was my very first and I like it so it stays ;)

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