#sir no you dont understand if i didn't write 2500 words of him I would've died

[junosartsthetic]

I Know you like Polnareff alot so I'll request one .. can I get a Polnareff oneshot where the reader is part of the crew and knows french so she flirts with Pol. And no one else has a clue what's going on?

I used google translate for the French so R.I.P. to the accuracy. I’ll put what I was trying to say in brackets, however, and if anyone who actually speaks French wants to correct me they are more than welcome. Also this uhh... this is one of the longest things I’ve written in a while. Did someone say comfort character?

As soon as the frenchman spotted you getting off the bus, he flashed you a wide smile. It’d been a while since he’d last seen you, but he’d recognize your features anywhere.

The other crusaders looked on, waiting to see who the special person Pol called in to help was. All he said was that you were an old friend.

Your boots moved against the concrete elegantly as you tucked a stray hair out of your face. The light blouse and sleek pants you wore complimented your figure nicely.

You waved, blowing Pol a kiss when you spotted him. “Bonjour,” you said, the French rolling off your tongue as though it was your first language.

Polnareff opened his arms for a hug but you just clicked your tongue. “Oh, no. I’m still mad at you, Jean. Now, why did you make me come all the way out here? Where even is here? What country is this?” you shook your head. “God, it’s been such a long trip.”

You noticed Pol’s companions and shook hands with each, introducing yourself as you did so.

“So, you’re the old friend Polnareff has been mentioning,” the man who introduced himself as Avdol prompted.

You nodded. “Something like that. But I still don’t know why I’m here.” Joseph piped up. “We’re trying to defeat an enemy that goes way back. Polnareff said you could assist us.”

You glared at the silver-haired man who was currently distracting himself with his nails. “Oh, he just assumed I would, huh?” you huffed. “Well, I’m already here so I might as well.”

That was the start of your inclusion as part of the crusaders. As time went on, you got to know the others more, befriending them as best as you could. You still gave Jean the cold shoulder, however. The others weren’t sure why, but Jean knew what he did wrong. That’s for damn sure.

The others found out, eventually, though; over a dinner, in fact.

You sat next to Avdol, chatting about nothing in particular. Pol directly across from you, simply pouting.

Joseph looked between the two of you. “So, uhh, what’s your past together, really? I know you said not to bring it up but if we’re to defeat Dio together we should get along. All of us. And that means fixing whatever shit Polnareff did to make you mad at him.”

“Moi? Why do you assume it was ME that did something?” Polnareff spoke up, crossing his arms.

“Because it was you,” was your reply as you took a sip of your beverage.

His face flushed. “That was a long time ago.”

You glared at him. “But you never apologized.”

“Es-tu sérieux? Qu'ai-je fait de mal? [Are you serious? What did I do wrong?]”

“Tu veux vraiment y aller? Tu n'as même jamais dit au revoir! J'avais dix-huit ans à l'époque! Vous êtes parti sans un mot et je ne savais pas où vous étiez et vous m'appelez soudainement de nulle part et vous attendez à ce que je voyage des centaines de kilomètres pour vous aider? [Do you really wanna go there? You never even said goodbye! I was eighteen at the time! You left without a word and I didn't know where you were and then you suddenly call me up out of nowhere and expect me to travel hundreds of kilometers to help you?]”

“J'avais dix-huit ans aussi, au cas où tu aurais oublié! J'étais un enfant stupide! Tu étais mon ... tu sais ce que tu étais pour moi! Je ne voulais pas tout gâcher! [I was eighteen too, in case you forgot! I was a stupid kid! You were my... you know what you were to me! I didn't want to mess it up!]”

You scoffed. “Gâcher? Et vous pensiez que me quitter après que nous ayons dormi ensemble pour la première fois n'était PAS une erreur? [Mess it up? And you thought leaving me after we slept together for the first time was NOT messing it up?]”

The others were simply looking back and forth in confusion. Obviously, you two had a rough past. Joseph cleared his throat awkwardly. Maybe he shouldn’t have brought it up…

Pol glanced down at his plate. “Je ... je suppose que c'était mal de moi. Je suis désolé. Je ... t'aime toujours, tu sais? Je n'ai jamais arrêté. [I ... I guess it was wrong of me. I am sorry. I... still love you, you know? I never stopped.]”

You began to cry.

Avdol put a comforting hand on your shoulder, though he didn’t know what to say.

“God damnit,” you muttered. “I still love you too, moron.”

There was silence. Though they understood only that, the other crusaders knew what went down between the two of you.

After that, everyone went to their rooms. Nothing else was spoken other than unmeaningful ‘good night’s and ‘see you tomorrow’s.

In the morning, you woke up with a newfound purpose in life. You knew how he felt, and he knew how you felt, but you were determined to grind his gears in revenge, anyway. He broke your heart so he deserved it. How to do it, however? You had a plan.

“Good morning, everyone,” you said as you walked into the breakfast area, your black silk robe still tied neatly against you. “I hope you all slept well. I have a feeling today is going to be a great day!”

“Uhh, yeah,” Kakyoin muttered, raising a brow. “You okay? You were… crying last night.”

You ruffled his hair. “Oh, don’t even worry about it, I’m great! More than great, actually.”

With that, you mozied off to grab a plate and start piling on breakfast items to eat. Luckily, the man you were looking for was right in front of you.

“Bonjour,” you said, tone light.

Pol shot you a look, but didn’t question your cheery attitude. “Salut.”

“Tu as l'air différent ce matin. Plus beau. Avez-vous fait quelque chose avec vos cheveux? Ou changer de tenue? [You look different this morning. More handsome. Did you do something with your hair? Or change your outfit?]”

“Non? Qu'est-ce que tu fais? [No? What are you up to?]”

You shrugged. “Je te donne juste un compliment. [Just giving you a compliment.]”

He finished stacking up his food and started to head back to the table, you following behind him.

As soon as you sat down, you began conversing once more. Running a hand lightly through his styled hair, you asked, “Êtes-vous sûr de n'avoir rien changé? [Are you sure you didn't change anything?]”

Jotaro let out a sigh, tilting his hat down. “Good grief. Here we go again.”

Pol shooed your hand away. “Oui. Maintenant mange. [Yes. Now eat.]”

This was the regular all day. Any chance you got, you’d pay him a compliment in French. The poor frenchman didn’t know what you were up to, but he wasn’t sure he wanted to find out.

After dinner, when the ones who were old enough to drink went down to the bar, was when things really started heating up.

Avdol and Joseph sat beside you as you sat beside Pol. They were busy chatting when they noticed you start a conversation. Despite not understanding, they decided to listen in.

“Belle nuit, non? [Beautiful night, no?]” you said, leaning your head against his shoulder as you stirred your glass. 

You were right. It was beautiful.

“Oui [yes],” he agreed.

“Pas aussi beau que toi [not as beautiful as you],” you quipped, nudging him with your elbow.

He let out a sigh. He would love nothing more than to take the compliment as it was, but he knew not to. He felt stupid not knowing what you were up to, but he had a feeling it had to do with him falling for your scheme of compliments. His expression remained neutral, though you spotted color appearing on his cheeks. You smirked.

“Cette nuit n'était pas si mauvaise, non? C'est pour ça que tu es parti? Parce que je n'étais pas assez bon? Parce que je serais prêt à réessayer. Donnez-moi une autre chance et je jure que vous ne voudrez plus jamais quitter le lit. [That night wasn't so bad, was it? Is that why you left? Because I wasn't good enough? Because I'd be willing to try again. Give me another chance and I swear you'll never want to leave the bed.]” Your feet nudged his legs as you spoke.

You felt his shoulder tense underneath you.

“Ce n'est pas ça et tu le sais. [That's not it and you know it.]”

You began to trace the top of his hand with your nails, drawing little shapes. You noticed the hair on his arms stand up.

“Je ne te crois pas~~~~ [I don't believe you~~~~]”

Joseph leaned over to whisper to Avdol. “I think she might be flirting with ‘im.”

“Why would she do that if he broke her heart?”

Joseph shrugged. “I don’t know. I’ve never understood a woman’s true motives a day in my life, that’s why I was asking you what you think.”

“I’m a fortune teller, Mr, Joestar, not a mind-reader.”

Dismissing Avdol, Joseph tuned back into what was happening on the other side of him.

You now had one arm wrapped around his bicep, the other trailing a nail from his hand up to his shoulder and towards his neck.

“Rejoignez-moi dans ma chambre et convainquez-moi, n'est-ce pas? [Join me in my room and convince me there, won't you?]”

Polnareff gently grabbed your hand, stopping you from caressing his face. “Pourquoi fais-tu ça? Je sais que tu gardes toujours rancune. [Why are you doing this? I know you still hold a grudge.]”

You let out a weary sigh. “Oh chéri. S'il vous plaît. Arrêtons-nous avec les présentations et le bavardage. [Oh, love. Please. Let's just stop with the introductions and chit-chat.]”

With that, you stood up, moving to grasp his wrists and lead him away from the bar.

Joseph turned to Avdol but the Egyptian shook his head. “We’re not following them. Well, I’m not. I’ll be in the room. You’re welcome to do whatever, Mr. Joestar, but I’ll have no part.”

Avdol got up, moving towards the stairs.

Joseph scoffed. “Well, fine.” He ran after Avdol. “Wait for me!”

You let out a sigh of relief. You brought Pol out into the empty patio, and there was no sign of the other two following you. You breathed out, breath visible in the cool air.

“I think we’re alone now,” you said. “Finally.”

Polnareff turned to you, expression one that was commonly found on him present. Confusion. “What are you trying to accomplish? Just tell me.”

You said nothing, your hands tracing up both of his arms before resting against his cheeks. You used your thumb to caress his face. Fluttering your eyelashes, you gave him a look he recognized from way back in that hotel in France. You leaned up, getting on your tippy toes.

Despite the logical side of his brain telling him he shouldn’t, he slowly wrapped his arms around your waist, pulling you in.

Your lips met, but before anything could happen, you pulled away suddenly. You were crying.

“I’m such an idiot,” you muttered. “Why did I think this was a good idea?” You backed away from his grasp. “I’m sorry.” Polnareff’s heart shattered. He hated seeing you in tears, especially since he didn’t know the reason. He assumed it was probably him. “What’s wrong?”

You bit your lip. “I was going to get revenge,” you said. “Do to you what you did to me. But I can’t. If… if I go up to your room and do what we did together when we were teens I could never convince myself to leave you. Because I’m still in love with you, and not just a little bit. A lot. So much that it hurts. And I don’t want you hurt, even though you hurt me. Because I’m stupid in love with you.”

For such a talkative man, he had nothing to say. 

You two just stood in silence, cold air freezing your skin as you rubbed your arms. You let out a shaky sigh, eyes closing. You felt like an idiot. A love-sick idiot.

Suddenly, a pair of arms wrapped around your waist, pulling you against a broad chest that smelled of French alcohol and cigarette smoke. You took in a breath.

“I should be the one apologizing, ma chérie,” he said, voice cracking with emotion. “You deserve the world and if I could go back I never would have left you in that room. I just-- you had such big plans. You were an exchange student from America who was studying things I couldn’t even pronounce. I was some dumb nobody scrounging and wallowing about with no real purpose.”

“You’re an idiot,” you mumbled, arms moving to wrap around his neck as you glanced up at him. “You’re such an idiot, Jean Pierre.”

“I know,” he said, giving you a small smile. His cheeks were pink. “I really do know.”

“But I’d like you to be MY idiot from now on, if that’s okay with you.”

He gave a chaste kiss to your forehead. “If you’re willing to take me back, even in this hell of a situation we’re in right now, then I’d love nothing more, ma chérie.”

Your response was in the form of a kiss. But this time, it wasn’t a short one.

What finally pulled you two apart was a familiar gruff voice from a few stories above. “I knew it! I knew it!”

You both looked up, shooting glares at the elderly Joestar. He gave you a quick smile before popping his head back inside his window.

You let out a giggle, Polnareff chuckling along.

“Oh my,” you sighed. “What have I gotten myself into?”

He grinned. “I have no idea, myself, ma chérie. But we’ll have a bizarre adventure finding out!”

That night, you two shared a bed, snuggled up against each other. There was nothing more than scattered kisses shared, but it was a pleasant night, nonetheless.

When morning came, however, and you were met with strong arms embracing you from behind as a familiar snore sounded in your ear, you felt better than you had in years. More specifically, since that night in France.

Letting out a hum, you turned to kiss his forehead. “God, I love you, you big French idiot,” you mumbled. And you meant it. 

Hope you enjoyed! <3