Jojo's Bizarre One Shots!*REQUESTS OPEN*

Jean-Pierre Polnareff X fem!Reader: Mission Gone Wrong

A/N: Whoa look its me doing a request from my list and updating twice in one week. I've lost who originally requested this, but I hope they see it and enjoy it. Stuff gets steamy, but not quite steamy enough for a lemon rating. This is one of the more comedic one shots I've written, but it gets sweet at the end.

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How many stand users before you had failed?

This thought was stuck in your head as you stalked through Karachi, Pakistan in search of the Joestar party. Steely Dan had tried, and failed, to kill them just a few hours ago. None of them were badly injured in the fight, which meant they'll leave the city soon. You wanted to confront them here and now before they could take a single step closer to DIO. You did not serve DIO for money nor out of fanatic loyalty. It was a life debt, and now you were repaying him by taking four lives: Kakyoin Noriaki, Joseph Joestar, Kujo Jotaro, and Jean-Pierre Polnareff.

Finally, after an hour of walking, you saw one of your intended targets. The man was incredibly tall with silver hair that stood straight up atop his head. He was absolutely bursting with muscles, and his skin tight black shirt and white pants clung to his frame perfectly. This was Jean-Pierre Polnareff. He was smoking a cigarette while leaning next to a bar door. According to the information provided to you, Polnareff's stand was <Silver Chariot>: a short range combat stand with incredible speed and precision. It fought with a rapier and apparently could remove its armor to increase its speed. Regarding Polnareff himself, you were told he was rather stupid and adored women.

You smirked as you watched him from afar. He was a perfect warm up round for the other three. Your plan for killing Polnareff was very simple: seduce him, lure him to a secluded location, then kill him while you were kissing. You slipped off your satin red jacket to reveal a sheer black turtleneck. Your red lace bra could easily be seen through the paper thin fabric. Your black leather pants and heeled boots matched the top perfectly, giving you a sexy grunge look. You squared your shoulders and lifted your chin, then began to strut towards Polnareff.

Polnareff picked you out of the crowd immediately as you began to approach him. He raked his eyes over your body and smiled.  You walked closer and closer, then brushed past him, and opened the door to the bar. For a moment, you turned your head and flicked your eyes up to meet his gaze, then brought them down to his abs, and back up again. You looked away as you stepped through the door. Hopefully, you'd peaked his interest enough that he would follow you in.

You sat at the counter, careful to choose a stool with an empty seat beside it, then ordered a beer. You placed your elbow on the counter and placed your chin in the palm of your chair. Before your beer even arrived, your heard footsteps approach, and stop next to you.

"Is this seat taken?" a smooth and low voice said.

You looked up, and sure enough, it was Polnareff.

"No," you answered, looking into his blue eyes. "It's all yours, if you want it."

"Merci," he said, sitting beside you. His massive shoulders brushed against yours. You both angled to face each other. "I'm Jean-Pierre Polnareff," he said, offering you his hand.

"Y/n Y/l/n," you replied, taking his hand.

Instead of shaking it, he turned your hand so your knuckles faced up, then brought it to his lips and lightly kissed it. Your face flushed. The corner of his mouth turned up. What the hell kind of expression was that? Amusement?

"Pleasure to meet you," he said, gently releasing your hand. His voice had the most gorgeous French accent. It was light and romantic.

"Like wise," you said, smiling back.