Marichat Oneshots

Part 18 - Banana

Ok, a quick note from a dead author
As I write this on my phone, I'd like to firstly apologize for falling off the face of this app—I got bored of the fandom and writing so I just upped and left (I was young leave me alone)
On the other hand, I look at whatever the hell i wrote before and now I want to punch myself in the face
What was I thinking? Did I possess brain cells 4 years ago? Genuine curiosity here honestly because what was going on
Looking back on your old writing certainly makes you appreciate your growth as a person because honestly WHAT was going through my head
Either way I'm back just to make a bunch of funny posts but whether I finish this or not is up in the air
I'm also gonna note that I haven't watched the series in a bit because Thomas Astruc and the writing team must have something in the water they're drinking because the logic of the show makes as much sense as my business plans from when I was 11, so there will be very little going on with the actual lore
Not that there is any anymore, something went horribly wrong
So don't expect me to care about the canon stuff anymore because everything went out the window after like season 2
Also I'm not reading this over twice so tell me if there are any mistakes 👌
Bye!

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Chat was simple. Few thoughts occurred in his mind after he transformed, besides protecting civilians, eating good food, and getting a chance to relax from his fathers oppressive regime. Relaxing on his stick high up, precariously balanced, he surveyed his city. The hustle and bustle of normal had quieted down, the early morning creating a low fog, making it hard to see those setting up in the market square downtown. As he attempted to observe through the fog, his stomach let out a gurgle, reminding him of his lack of breakfast. Glancing at the screen of the stick he was clinging to, he noticed it wasn't for another hour until Natalie was supposed to come in and get him to go to school. His stomach protested the timeframe, insisting on an earlier start. Grumbling, he allowed his weight to shift to the left, making the stick tilt and have him fall closer to the market square.
Flipping off of the quickly retracting tool, he landed gracefully on two feet, tucking the stick onto the latch on his belt. Surveying the market, he noticed a few booths open straight ahead. He speedily walked over, not wanting to attract too much attention. I mean how much attention can I attract when I'm covered in a leather bodysuit and I'm one of Paris's greatest heroes? He thought to amuse no one but himself.
Keeping in mind his fathers watching eye over his diet—along with everything else—Chat needed something quick. And digestible. And soon, gurgled his stomach.
An open fruit stand caught his eye, the vendor sleepily setting up his produce. He grabbed the first thing in his eyeline—a yellow banana—and then remembered he didn't have his wallet. This stupid catsuit couldn't come equipped with a bank account? He grumbled, realizing he couldn't pay. He quickly put the banana down, the tired vendor turning to him before suddenly recognizing him.
"Chat noir? Voulez-vous une banane?" The man asked in formal French, stunned to see the hero out so early and so closely.
"Ah, oui—mais je n'ai pas de la monnaie, désolée monsieur. Aussi, vous pouvez parler avec moi sans cérémonie," he apologized, hoping the man wouldn't make a fuss. A large crowd wasn't what he needed at 6 in the morning. Or someone treating him like an adult when he could barely handle being a teen.
The man shook his head, grabbing the yellow fruit and putting it in Chat's leather palm. "C'est pas de problème, Chat Noir. Tu es un héro, pour tout de la village. Une banane ce n'est pas un grand geste. Bon appétit!" The vendor replied, smiling away Chat's protests. Chat smiled at the man's kindness, nodding to him respectfully before walking away from the cart.
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Chat had just finished the banana. His stomach was satisfied, and the early sun had become more prominent. The time now read 6:15, as the hero had taken his sweet time eating the fruit. Dangling his legs off the rooftop, he observed the market square as it slowly woke up. Though the adrenaline rushes were still his favorite types of morning escapades, he appreciated a quiet morning every once in a while. Thudding against the tin roof, the hero laid down next the the recently finished peel. Opening his eyes, he was just in time to watch the peel tumble off the ledge of the roof onto the sidewalk below—right in front of Marinette.
It seemed like slow motion as she stepped on the peel, which had been obscured by the 3 towering boxes of fresh croissants she had been carrying from the bakery. Lurching off the roof, Chat jumped down to her. The croissants flew, the peel having thrown her off balance, and Marinette's eyes grew wide. She lunged for the pastries, falling towards the old cobbled sidewalk of the market square. Just a second before she hit the ground Chat felt his hand grab her waist and extended his stick out to balance the last box of croissants. Pulling her up with one arm and bringing the croissants in with the other, apologies began to fall out his mouth.
"Princess I'm so sorry, I didn't see you or the peel falling I'm so so sorry, are you hurt anywhere—" he stressed, annoyed at his own stupidity. Protecting the people, huh.
Marinette looked up at him, her light skin flushed from the fall. "I'm fine Chat—but what did you just say? And what did I slip on—" she said confused, until she saw the banana peel and it's smeared insides on the cobble behind her. Little giggles slipped out of her that eventually turned into full-blown laughter, the early sunlight caressing her face. Chat found his nerves easing now that she wasn't in danger and the reality of the situation caught up to him.
She had slipped. On a banana peel.
They both started laughing, where some bystanders questioned the boisterous teenagers.
"Oh Chat—" Marinette managed between laughs— "how do you even do this-" she giggled before doubling up in laughter.
"I'm not sure," he said between his own snickering. "Seems like the banana wanted me to check if you're peeling ok—or should I say potassium oxide?" He joked, proud he managed to slip two puns in a sentence. Marinette just laughed harder, both her hands on the boxes of croissants.
The two eventually calmed down, and Chat realized his palm was sweating in his suit. He still had it on Marinette's waist, and quickly withdrew it after realized he hadn't let go. The heat of her body lingered on his hand and seemed to travel up to his face.
"So, uh, what brings you to the market this early? I thought you'd be oversleeping as usual," Chat said, trying to shake off the strange warmth.
"Oh, Papa wanted me to bring these. We just opened up a new stand, the first in bakery history. Since the market's busy, we want to take advantage of all the foot traffic—imagine grabbing a fresh croissant for 2€ and being on your way!" Marinette explained, clearly excited about the opening. That's one thing Chat liked about her—she reveled in anyone's success, not just your own.
"Well, how about feeding a hungry hero?" He asked slyly, eyeing the boxes. The suit heightened his senses, and the fresh croissants were starting to get to him.
"If you pick that peel up and help me carry these maybe I'll spare you one," Marinette said, casting a smile over her shoulder. The sun reflected her black hair, a tint of blue bringing out her eyes. Chat felt the rush of warmth come back, his mind going blank at the sight of her in the sun.
He snatched up the peel, tossing it in the nearest trash can, and grabbed the boxes from her. Rushing to do anything but stare at her like an idiot.
The peel landed in the trash flawlessly, but oddly smushed. As if someone had gripped it just to a little too hard.