#the working title of 'just thinkin bout pol idk' was literally better than this

[narancias-headband]

Flirting

Polnareff X Reader

~2400 words

100% Fluff

Fem!Reader

~~~

Jean-Pierre Polnareff was a worldly sort of man. He wasn't above the pleasures of this earth, and never tried to pretend any different. He pointedly and relentlessly sought revenge, and he could never turn down a request from a beautiful woman.

That was the same when he first laid eyes on you, of course, and the flirtatious remarks and innuendos flew for a short while. When he found that you were the new member of their traveling entourage, though, he swore that he wouldn't get tied up. Sure, he'd still flirt from time to time, but nothing like before. He never wanted to let on just how much power you still held over him. It was all for the sake of the group.

Though his reasons were sound if you knew them, the way he seemed so distant now drove you crazy. You'd watch him falter for any random woman on the street, but you never got that treatment anymore. Honestly, it really only got to you since you were head over heels for him. You longed for his unabashed flirting. The flirting that he was showering onto some random passerby just now.

"Ah, ma chérie," Polnareff swooned, placing a kiss on the woman's hand. You rolled your eyes. "Your body... You are magnifique!" He was really laying it on thick, clutching at his heart dramatically. She wasn't even that pretty.

Having had enough, you grab hold of the back of his shirt and yank. You knock him off balance just enough to catch his attention. He looks at you with sad eyes, pleading you to not drag him away, but you can't stand to watch him flounder over this woman any further. You give him another sharp tug. "Jean-Pierre," you say with the harshness of a parent scolding a child, "We have things to be doing. Come on."

He relents and allows you to pull him away. You drag him along behind you, not wanting to look back at him. Seeing you in such a huff caused a smirk to cross his lips. "So what is it we're in such a hurry to do?" he asks. He's just trying to push your buttons and you know it.

"I'm sure Jotaro or Kakyoin needs us... Or, uh, something," you say, angry with yourself that you hadn't thought of a good lie before this. "Besides, if I had to watch you swoon over that hag any longer I think I'd have thrown up."

Polnareff's eyes light up. He loosens from your grip and quickens his pace until he's walking right beside you. He tries to put his face in front of yours and capture your attention, but you refuse to make eye contact. "So that's the issue, mademoiselle?"

"Usually," you grumble, "It's disgusting to watch you drivel at the feet of every woman you see." Polnareff steps directly in front of you and stops, forcing you to finally look up at him. "What?!" You raise your hands in an exasperated motion.

"If I didn't know any better," he says, some kind of devious twinkle in his eye, "I'd think you were jealous."

You scoff and turn away to try and hide your now blushing cheeks. "As if," you say. Polnareff leans over, trying to get in your face again, but you stop him by quickly walking off.

"Hey, wait up!" he says, trying to catch up again. Damn, he thinks, I thought I was onto something...

Eventually, you track down the rest of the group and spend the remainder of the day, quite uneventfully, running around with them. Before long, it's time to find a place for the night.

Joseph manages to lead the way to a mid-range hotel and pays the fee for three rooms for the night. "Alright," he says, "I got three rooms." He holds up the three keys. "How are we splitting up?"

Kakyoin speaks up first. "I'll room with Jotaro." Joseph nods, throwing them one of the keys. The two quickly head to their room, thankful to be able to have a place to rest.

"I think," Avdol speaks up, "you and I should share a room again, Joseph." He looks at you with an expression like he's in on a joke. He knows about your little crush, doesn't he? Bastard...

Joseph nods as he tosses a key to Polnareff. "That leaves you two. Any objections?"

"I think I should be allowed my own room," you whine.

"We can't take risks like that anymore, [Y/N]," Joseph scolds. "You've seen what kinds of trouble we end up in staying in rooms alone. Especially Polnareff... And I got rooms with two beds, anyway. Stop complaining."

Knowing that it would be futile to argue, you concede. You turn to face Polnareff. "What number room are we in?"

"Looks like 413," he replies, reading the tag hanging from the key.

"Sounds like we'll be right under you," Joseph replies, showing off the key tag reading 313. "So don't be too loud." He hadn't meant for it to come across like that, but his words put a pink tint across both your and Polnareff's faces. Avdol holds in a laugh. Joseph turns to walk towards his room.

"Goodnight, you two," Avdol says with a smile, following behind Joseph.

"Alright," Polnareff says, "Fourth floor. Let's go." He slings his bag over his shoulder. You go to grab your own things, but he beats you to it. "I'll carry your stuff, ma chérie."

Your heart skips at the pet name, but you force yourself to roll your eyes. "Must be off your game today, Pol," you say with a chuckle. His eyes go wide for just a second when he hears the nickname come from your lips. "You used that one already," you chide.

"But not on you, belle." He bats his eyelashes at you. A wide smile crosses his face. "See, I've got more."

You turn away from him and start walking towards the stairs. "Let's get to our room. I'm exhausted." You take a moment to try and calm your pounding heart. Polnareff follows behind quickly, all of your stuff in tow.

Soon, you're standing at the door of your room. "Hey," you say, holding a hand out to Polnareff, "Can I have the key? You have your hands full already." He nods and holds the key out to you, holding it in the same hand as his pack. You grab it from his hand, fingers brushing against his, and quickly unlock the door. You walk in, ready to flop onto your bed, when you see something you weren't expecting.

"I thought the old man got us a room with two beds," you say, crossing your arms. You don't know if it was a mistake, fate, or a lie Joseph told to shut you up, but the room you stood in had only one queen size bed in its center.

Polnareff just shrugs, dropping your things onto the floor. "Looks big enough for both of us. I don't see the issue."

You contemplate going back to the front desk and changing rooms, but your feet ache at the idea. You were just too tired to care. Besides... Maybe sleeping right next to Polnareff wouldn't be so bad after all.

You yawn, and Polnareff follows suit. "Alright, I'm going to get ready for bed," you say. You rummage through your bag for the stuff you'd need and head toward the bathroom.

"I'm going to step out on the balcony for a bit," Polnareff says, pointing. You nod, a little surprised at how fancy the room was. "Come get me if you need me." He smiles at you.

You enter the bathroom and look at yourself in the mirror. You looked half dead; the bags under your eyes had been accumulating over the duration of the journey. Sleep was usually so hard to come by. In the corner of your eye, you see something you hadn't expected.

There was a massive, heart shaped tub in the corner of the bathroom. Somehow, you and Polnareff had ended up in the hotel's honeymoon suite. This had to be intentional. Someone had set you two up. You shake the thought of cozying up with Polnareff in the warm waters of the large tub out of your mind and begin brushing your teeth. You complete your nightly routine, and change into your pajamas before stepping out of the bathroom. As you bend down to pack up your things, you see Polnareff on the balcony.

He's looking over the bright city and smoking a cigarette to calm his nerves. He didn't feel like himself. Jean-Pierre Polnareff wasn't one to get nervous when in the presence of a beautiful woman, but somehow you tongue tied him. You made his heart hammer in his chest, and your attention made him feel like he was floating. He didn't want to admit it, but the thought of sleeping in the same bed as you terrified him. He couldn't help but worry that he'd do something that would make you feel awkward around him. He had no idea how to act when spending the night with the person he'd secretly fallen in love with. The wood of the balcony creaked behind him, pulling him from his thoughts.

"The city is beautiful," you say, standing next to Polnareff and leaning on the handrail. He hums in agreement and nods in response. He nudges your arm with his elbow. You turn to him and see him offering up his open pack of cigarettes.

"No thank you," you say and smile at him. "Just brushed my teeth." He tucks it back into his pocket and leans up against the handrail as well. His shoulder brushes up against yours.

His mind is racing. You had set him up perfectly for a pick up line and he had missed it. What was he thinking?! He took a deep breath and tried to make it work anyway. He shifts to look over at you. "The view is gorgeous," he says softly, intently looking at you and you alone. You glance at him after feeling his weight shift. You see him looking at you. Wait. He's looking at you and talking about the view. You can't stop the dark blush that rushes across your face. "Seeing you in the moonlight," he says gently, feeling a bit more confident, "is almost magic. You look magnifique, darling."

Your heart races. He sounds so genuine, much more than when he usually flirts. You try and joke to make yourself less anxious. "That's another repeat, Pol," you say, laughing nervously.

He laughs softly and smiles. "But I really meant it this time," he says. He puts his hand on top of yours. You freeze, almost unable to breathe with his hand on yours. "Let's get to bed, yeah?" he says, giving your hand a gentle squeeze. You nod and follow him inside, fingers intertwined with his.

You plop down on to the bed first and push back the blankets, trying to crawl under them. Polnareff lags behind, pulling off his shirt and pants. You blush seeing him just in his boxers, but can't stop yourself from giggling at the stereotypical heart print on them.

"What?!" he says exasperatedly. He let his nerves get the best of him, still anxious about the whole sleeping situation. He worried that you were about to laugh him off entirely and snub him completely.

"Of course you'd wear boxers like that!" you say, still giggling.

"What's wrong with them?" he says, his tone more playful as he starts to relax. He smiles at your continued laughter, now knowing you were just joking. "I like hearts," he explains, "And I happen to look amazing in pink." He strikes a little pose, hand on his hip and a sultry look on his face.

It wasn't long before you were both laughing loudly. He took advantage of the low stress moment to hop into bed next to you. You sat by each other for a moment, both transfixed on how your shoulders rubbed together just the slightest bit. The laughter died down into silence, but the tension had nearly fully dissipated for the moment.

"Alright," you say, before being interrupted by a yawn, "I'm tired. How are we doing this?"

Polnareff yawns in response. "How about you get comfortable," he proposes, "and I'll just fit in wherever." He smiles at you, reaching out to squeeze your hand gently. "You look like you need the rest, so don't worry about me."

You squeeze his hand back. "Thank you, Jean," you say gently. A shaky smile crosses his lips upon hearing his first name come out of your lips for the first time for a reason other than scolding him. His mind races with a billion thoughts, but he stays quiet.

Your hand slips away from his as you lay down, trying as hard as possible to get comfortable on the hotel mattress. You end up laying on your side facing outward with your back to Polnareff. "Is this okay?" you ask, turning your head to look at him over your shoulder.

"Are you comfortable?" he asks. His voice is gentle and quiet, very unlike his usual self. You nod. "Then it's perfect," he confirms before starting to adjust himself as well. He lays on his side as well, facing you. For a moment he seriously considers wrapping his arms around you and squeezing you tight, but he chickens out. He lays one arm lazily overtop of your waist.

"Jean?" you say sleepily.

Afraid he'd overstepped, he quickly pulls his arm back. "Sorry," he mumbles. He's about to roll over and face the other way completely when you continue, your words stopping him.

"Oh," you were disappointed at him pulling his arm away and your voice made that a little clearer than you'd hoped, "I was just going to say goodnight." You take a deep breath, and the sad sigh of your exhale further gives away your protests to the lack of contact.

"Oh," he replies. He puts his arm where it had been, this time using it to pull you a little closer. You blush at the contact. "Goodnight, [Y/N]."

#hajajaka the title is lame af woof #the working title of 'just thinkin bout pol idk' was literally better than this #anyway #jjba #jjba part 3 #stardust crusaders #polnareff #jean pierre polnareff #polnareff x reader