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Cafe D'Arc - Maid Jaune, Chapter 1
🕑 Added 2025-01-19 15:10:37 +0000 UTCLike I said, here it is. A multi-chapter story of Jaune working as a maid and the women at Beacon actually being SUPER into it. This is just the beginning, so no smut yet. Just Jaune working at the maid cafe and then leading up to the first smut (Pyrrha, as per the vote).
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The faint jingle of a bell above the door barely registered over the sound of Jaune's internal screaming. Standing stiffly in the middle of a quaint yet lavishly decorated cafe, he adjusted the frilly headband that threatened to slip off his head with every movement. The uniform- if it could even be called that- was black and white, complete with an apron, lacy trim, and an absolutely humiliating miniskirt that fluttered too much for his liking whenever he so much as breathed. His legs, now freshly shaven (a requirement, apparently), were on full display thanks to the knee-high socks he'd been required to wear. Topping it off was a pair of heels that made him look taller than he already was.
"How did I get here?" Jaune muttered under his breath, eyes darting to the reflective surface of a nearby window. The answer stared back at him, blushing furiously in a maid uniform with a name tag that read Juliette. The name tag mocked him, dangling just below the lacy neckline of his outfit like some cruel cosmic joke.
He glanced toward the counter where the manager - a cheerful woman who exuded terrifying levels of energy - was humming to herself as she arranged pastries on a tray. She'd been the one to hire him after a brief interview that mostly involved her squinting at him suspiciously before declaring, "You'll do!" with way too much enthusiasm. He hadn't even realized what he was signing up for until she'd handed him the uniform and directed him to the changing room.
Jaune had almost walked out then and there. Almost. But then he'd caught a glimpse of the salary on the contract. His eyes had practically popped out of his skull. The amount they were offering for what was essentially waitstaff work was...well, it was astronomical, easily enough to cover his scroll payments, help his parents out back home (he still needed to apologize for running off with the family heirloom), and even save up for some upgrades to his gear. The cafe might have had a questionable theme, but the paycheck was no joke.
"Just think of it like when your sisters used to dress you up," Jaune murmured to himself. He could practically hear their laughter now, especially after they'd convinced him to participate in one of their impromptu tea parties while wearing an authentic princess dress. This is just a job, he told himself. A really, really embarrassing job, but a job nonetheless. Just think of the money he would make. No more having to wait for the weekly stipend or ask Pyrrha for a twenty.
"Juliette!" The manager's chirpy voice jolted him out of his spiraling thoughts. She waved him over with an expectant smile, pointing at the tray she'd just finished assembling, "Your first order! Table three. Smile big, okay? It's all about the customer experience!" Jaune pursed his lips. Juliette, cause apparently Jeanne was just a little too on the nose.
Swallowing his pride (and what little remained of his dignity), Jaune plastered on what he hoped was an enthusiastic smile. It probably looked more like a grimace, "Right! Table three. Got it." He carefully picked up the tray, making sure not to jostle the drinks, and shuffled toward the indicated table.
Each step made him hyper-aware of how different this uniform felt. The skirt swayed, the socks pinched slightly at his thighs, and the heels weren't exactly designed for someone who spent their days training with a sword. He was used to armor and sneakers, not...this.
The customers at table three were two young women, giggling behind their hands as they spotted him approaching. He forced his smile wider, though his cheeks burned, "Here are your orders!" he said brightly in a higher pitch than usual, setting the drinks down carefully, "P-Please call me again if you need anything, mistress!"
"Thank you, Juliette~," one of them cooed, her tone dripping with amusement. The other one giggled again, glancing down at his legs before murmuring something to her friend that made them both laugh even harder.
Jaune clenched his jaw, his smile stiffening. Ignore it. Ignore it. You're here for the money, he chanted internally like a mantra, "Enjoy your drinks!" he said, adding a small curtsy for good measure. The movement made the skirt flare just enough for the girls to let out audible oohs, and he retreated as quickly as he could without sprinting. He didn't like how he could feel their eyes staring at his butt when he walked off.
Back behind the counter, the manager gave him an approving thumbs-up, "You're a natural! Keep up the good work, Juliette!" Jaune managed a weak nod, already questioning every decision he'd ever made that led him to this point.
He cringed again, the soft hum of the cafe doing little to drown out his inner turmoil. Why does this have to be so easy? It was an unwelcome truth, one he'd spent years trying to dodge or laugh off. Sure, he was tall, but that didn't stop his figure from being frustratingly slender, his shoulders not quite broad enough, and his jaw never quite sharpening into the rugged shape and beard he'd imagined in his younger days. And his face. Ugh. His stupid, smooth, frustratingly symmetrical face that practically begged his sisters to slap makeup on it every chance they got.
"You're too cute to be a boy, Jauney~" his oldest sister - Jade - would tease, pinching his cheeks until they were red. Then, of course, the others would chime in, vying for their turn to transform him into their personal dress-up doll. The worst part? He knew he was just as much to blame. He'd complained, sure, but he'd never fought hard enough to put a stop to it. His older sisters would use their sibling authority and his younger ones would pout and beg. At some point, it became easier to sigh and let them have their fun than to argue.
And now here he was, a "maid" in a bustling cafe, leaning into years of unwanted training to survive. His voice, when he pitched it high enough, sounded disturbingly natural. He didn't need much practice to get it right, "Thank you so much for coming today!" he chirped to the giggling customers, his tone sugary sweet and without any of his usual awkwardness. The easy way it slipped out out made him want to crawl into a hole. Damn you, sisters! Damn youuu!
'You're just doing a job', he reminded himself, gripping the counter as another group of customers walked through the door. 'A really, really well-paid job.' His fingers brushed the frilly hem of his apron, and his eye twitched.
It didn't help that the manager had said he "looked perfect for the job" during the interview. She hadn't even hesitated. She'd handed him the uniform without batting an eye, as if he'd been made for it. And worst of all, she'd been right. The maid outfit hugged his form a little too well, the skirt swaying with an elegance that his armor could never hope to replicate. The thigh-high socks somehow made his legs look longer, and the heels, while uncomfortable, suited the look better than any sneakers ever could.
Jaune felt a shiver run down his spine. It was wrong how good he looked. Back home, the running joke had always been that there were eight Arc sisters instead of seven, and now, standing in front of the cafe's reflective window, he couldn't help but see why. His hair, which he'd never bothered cutting shorter than neck length, framed his face in a way that made him look...disturbingly pretty.
"Juliette!" the manager called again, her chipper tone snapping him out of his thoughts. She gestured to another tray waiting on the counter, "You've got table six next! Remember, big smile!"
"Right, big smile," Jaune muttered, forcing his lips into the same bright expression that had carried him through the last ten minutes. He grabbed the tray and made his way to the table, carefully balancing the drinks.
This time, it was a group of older women, their eyes lighting up the moment they spotted him, "Oh my, aren't you adorable!" one of them said, leaning forward with a smile that made Jaune's stomach churn. Why were the customers mostly women, he wondered. He'd have thought a Maid Cafe would cater mostly to men, but they were the minority.
"Um, thank you," he managed, his voice slipping effortlessly into the higher pitch. He set their drinks down, praying they wouldn't notice the slight tremble in his hands.
"Such lovely manners too," another woman added, her gaze lingering on his face, "You remind me of my granddaughter. So sweet and delicate!"
Jaune barely resisted the urge to groan. Sweet and delicate? Great. Just what every aspiring huntsman wanted to hear. He gave them a polite curtsy, the movement automatic at this point, "Please enjoy your drinks, mistresses," he said, retreating as quickly as possible before they could comment on anything else.
Back behind the counter, Jaune took a deep breath, his fingers gripping the edge of the counter until his knuckles turned white. 'I'm doing this for the money,' he reminded himself for the hundredth time. 'Just a few more hours, and I'll be one step closer to paying off that stupid scroll. No one I know is going to find out about this. I'll be fine. Totally fine.'
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An hour later, Jaune's forced smile froze, his entire body stiffening as the cheerful jingle of the cafe door sent a chill down his spine. He suddenly had a bad feeling. His head turned slightly, just enough to confirm his worst fear. Entering the cafe, looking entirely out of place among the frilly decor, were none other than Ruby, Weiss, Blake, and Yang. Yang looked like she was about to laugh her ass off, Weiss strutted in like she owned the place, Ruby oohed and ahhed as she looked around, and Blake looked distinctly unimpressed, particularly when she spotted some of the maids wearing fake cat ears and tails.
The tray in Jaune's hands wobbled as panic surged through him, 'No. No, no, no. This isn't happening.' He ducked behind the counter as casually as he could manage, his heart pounding in his chest. 'They can't see me. There's no way they'd recognize me in this outfit...right?'
He dared a glance over the edge of the counter, just in time to catch Yang slinging an arm around Weiss's shoulders, "Alright, Weiss, spill it. Why are we here?" Yang's grin was as wide as ever, her eyes darting around the cafe, "This doesn't exactly scream your vibe."
Weiss sniffed, adjusting her bolero jacket with a practiced air of disdain, "Because, Yang, I am used to a very particular lifestyle. One that Beacon, unfortunately, cannot accommodate." Her sharp eyes swept the room, landing on the plush chairs and delicate teacups, "Since the academy lacks servants to attend to my various needs, I've decided this cafe will have to suffice. It's gotten good reviews online, so I can at least hope that they perform semi-adequately."
Blake raised an eyebrow, her expression half-amused, half-exasperated, "So...this is your solution to Beacon's lack of butlers and maids? A place where the employees put on Faunusface?"
"Exactly," Weiss said with a curt nod, completely unbothered by the stares of her teammates, "A touch of refinement never hurt anyone. Some of us have standards."
Yang burst out laughing, "Standards, huh? You mean the kind of standards where someone else pours your tea for you? What's next, you gonna make us bow before entering your room?"
"Don't be ridiculous, Yang," Weiss said, rolling her eyes, "You three would make horrible maids. You don't have the proper deference" She led the way to a table near the center of the cafe, her head held high like a queen surveying her domain. Ruby trailed after her, looking a little unsure. Yang rolled her eyes too and sat across them. Blake went last, muttering to herself that she could be reading right now instead of having to deal with Weiss' weird fetishes.
Jaune, meanwhile, was trying desperately to become one with the counter. This was bad. This was so, so bad. He was debating whether to bolt out the back door when the manager's chipper voice rang out behind him.
"Juliette!" she said, practically singing his alias as she bustled over, "Table twelve needs service. That's a Schnee over there!" She gave him a little nudge, her eyes sparkling, "Big money, Juliette! Go make an impression!"
Jaune felt his stomach drop, "Do I have to?" he asked in a strained whisper. He was tempted to just leave right now, but he hadn't even put in a full eight hours of work yet. He probably wouldn't have even gotten paid for the work he already put in.
The manager's cheery expression turned razor-sharp in an instant, her eyes narrowing in a way that made him shudder, "Yes, you have to," she said sweetly, but her tone brooked no argument. She shoved a tray of into his hands before pushing him toward the table, "Go on! Big smiles! I heard the Schnees give generous tips!"
With shaking hands, Jaune slowly made his way to his execution, 'This is it. This is how I die,' Jaune thought as he trudged toward the table, his head down and his heart racing. 'I'm going to trip, or they're going to hear my voice, or something is going to happen and they're going to know it's me. And then I'll have to transfer to another school. Or another kingdom.' He'd have to go to Vacuo or Mistral and get a fake name. Felipe. He was gonna be Felipe and live life on the run.
As he approached, Ruby was the first to notice him, her eyes lighting up, "Oh, here comes the maid!" she said brightly, leaning forward in her seat. The purity in those silver eyes made him want to scream.
Jaune gritted his teeth and forced his voice back into its higher pitch, "Good afternoon, mistresses~ Welcome home! My name's Juliette! What can I get for you today?" He kept his head slightly bowed, letting his hair obscure his face as much as possible. He both cursed and blessed the hair extensions the manager forced him to wear.
Weiss gave a curt nod, clearly pleased, "We'll start with tea, and make it quick. I don't appreciate waiting."
Yang smirked, glancing at him. Juliette, "Wow, bossy much? Don't worry, uh...Juliette, was it? Take your time. No need to rush for her." Yang ignored Weiss' scowl, "I'll have the omelette rice and, uh, vanilla iced coffee! You guys don't serve alcohol, do you?"
"U-Unfortunately not, mistress." The last thing anyone needed was anyone getting drunk and handsy.
"Ah, damn."
"Ooh, I want the crepe!" Ruby chirped, pointing it out on the menu, "Strawberries and chocolate please!"
"A-And you?" He turned slightly to Blake.
"...Water."
"Aw come on, Blake!" Yang huffed, "Weisscream's treating us!"
"I refuse to give money to something that fetishizes my race, Yang."
"Ugh, you're being such a buzzkill! Juliette, help me out here!"
"It's not my place to queston my mistresses' wishes." At least that was the truth. Customer service, customer was always right, bla bla bla...
"Hm, good. At least the maids here are properly trained." Weiss nodded in approval, "Bring my tea out first, would you? I'm parched."
Jaune's hands tightened on the tray, his knuckles white, "I'll bring your tea right away," he said quickly, turning on his heel before Yang could study him too closely. The walk back was stiff, like he had a brace strapped across his back. Fuck, fuck, fuck! Ugh! He shook his head. It would be okay, he told himself. All he had to do was serve them their orders and then they'd leave. If he got lucky, Weiss would give him a tip he could use to treat his team. Right. It wasn't all bad.
Behind the counter, Jaune tried to collect himself as he prepared the order. His hands were shaking, and he felt a drop of sweat run down his back. Get through this, he told himself. They didn't know it was him and they wouldn't know.
He took a deep breath and carried the tray back to the table, setting the teapot and cups down with as much grace as he could muster. Weiss inspected the tea like a jeweler examining a diamond, while Ruby gave him a small, friendly smile. Blake, thankfully, seemed more interested in her book than the service, "Is there anything else you need?" Jaune asked, keeping his voice steady, "If not, I'll get the rest of your orders ready."
"Not right now," Weiss said dismissively, waving him off.
Yang, however, leaned back in her chair, giving him a look that made his skin crawl, "You know, Juliette, you're kinda tall for a maid, and those legs...do you work out or something?" Jaune's breath caught, and for a terrifying moment, he thought she'd caught on. But she just grinned, her teasing tone aimed more at Weiss than him, "You've got some competition in the elegance department, Weiss. Watch out."
Weiss scowled, "Don't be ridiculous. Elegance is more than appearance. It's about refinement and-"
Jaune didn't wait to hear the rest, quickly retreating to the counter before anyone could ask more questions. He survived. For now.
Minutes later, Jaune's hands felt like they were trembling as he approached their table again, balancing the tray with Yang's omelette and coffee, Ruby's crepe, and Blake's water (the manager gave him a funny look when she saw it on the list). His earlier retreat had given him a chance to compose himself - just barely - and he was determined to get this over with as quickly as possible. Serve them, smile, leave. Serve them, smile, leave. He repeated it like a mantra in his head.
He reached the table, setting down the items one by one. Ruby beamed as he placed the crepe in front of her, the bright red strawberries and swirls of chocolate making her bounce in her seat. Blake barely spared him a glance as she muttered a quiet "thank you" and took her water. Yang, meanwhile, watched him like a cat eyeing a fat, slow mouse, her smirk widening as her order landed in front of her.
"Enjoy your meal, mistresses," Jaune said in his best service voice, turning on his heel to escape before anything could go wrong.
"Wait, wait, wait!" Yang's voice rang out, stopping him in his tracks. He froze, his back still to the table, silently pleading to whatever gods might be listening that this wasn't what he thought it was. Slowly, he turned back around, his forced smile firmly in place.
"Yes, mistress?" he asked, his voice sweet as sugar despite the rising feeling of dread in his gut.
Yang leaned back in her chair, balancing it precariously on its rear legs as she grinned up at him, "Aren't maids supposed to, you know, serve the food? Like, make it special? I mean, I've seen those videos online."
Jaune blinked, his stomach sinking further, "What...kind of special service do you mean, mistress?"
Yang snickered, pointing at her omelette with the ketchup bottle sitting innocently on the table, "You're supposed to draw a heart on the omelette with ketchup, right? And then do a cute little pose? Something like, 'Here's your meal, ojou-sama~!' in those Mistralian cartoons." She ignored Blake's offended sniff about how it was called Anime, "You know the deal." Her grin was all teeth now, clearly enjoying herself. Damn you, Yang! "I want that!"
Jaune's forced smile twitched, 'This can't be happening. This is some kind of punishment for me sneaking my way into Beacon. That's gotta be it.'
Weiss groaned, rubbing her temple, "Really, Yang? Must you turn everything into a joke? Just eat the food. Have some grace."
"No way!" Yang huffed, "We're at a maid cafe. I'm getting the full experience!" She turned back to Jaune, eyes twinkling with mischief, "Come on, Juliette. You've gotta do it. Right? Your mistress says so."
Ruby was too busy with her crepe to weigh in, happily munching away while Blake gave Yang a sidelong glance, "You're enjoying this way too much," Blake muttered, though the faint twitch of her lips made it obvious she was having fun too. Jerk.
Jaune looked toward Weiss, hoping for some form of reprieve. She just crossed her arms and sniffed, "She's paid to serve us, Yang. If you insist on this ridiculous request, fine, but just know you're looking like a boor."
'Great. Thanks for nothing, Weiss.'
With no other options, Jaune reluctantly stepped closer to the table, his hands gripping the ketchup bottle so tightly that it squeaked in protest. He stared at the omelette as if it were the executioner's block, internally debating whether he could fake a sudden illness and escape. But the manager's sharp gaze from across the room told him otherwise. Don't screw this up, her eyes seemed to say. He could practically see the lien notes in her eyeballs.
"Fine," he muttered, though he quickly corrected himself with a chirpy, "Of course, mistress! One moment, please!"
He unscrewed the cap of the ketchup bottle and bent down slightly, trying to block out Yang's barely-contained laughter as he carefully squeezed the condiment onto the omelette. The lines weren't perfect, and the heart was slightly lopsided, but it was passable. He finished it off with a flourish, snapping the cap back on and placing the bottle neatly on the table.
Yang looked down at the heart, then back up at him expectantly, "And the pose?"
Jaune wanted to scream...and maybe smash that omelette in Yang's face. Instead, he forced his trembling hands to clasp together in front of him in a heart shape, bent slightly at the waist, and tilted his head to the side, "Here's your meal, ojou-sama~!" he chirped, his voice a pitch higher than he thought physically possible.
Yang burst out laughing, her chair slamming back onto all four legs as she clutched her sides, "Oh, my God, that was amazing! You're so good at this!"
Ruby finally looked up from her crepe, crumbs on her cheeks, "Aw, I missed it! Do it again!"
"No!" Jaune yelped, then coughed to correct himself, "I-I mean, please tell me if you need anything else, mistress~." Before anyone could say another word, he spun on his heel and marched back to the counter, his face red enough to match the ketchup. He set the tray down with a shaky exhale, his dignity hanging by a thread.
"Big smiles, Juliette!" the manager called out, giving him a thumbs-up, "You're doing great! Oh, if a Schnee gives a good review, we'll be rolling in it!"
Jaune resisted the urge to groan. Why me, he thought. There were close to a dozen other maids here, so why was the manager picking on him? He was too anxious to even ogle the rest of the staff. The only guy in a cafe full of women dressed in frilly maid outfits and he hated every second of it, 'Do it for the money.' He grit his teeth. That salary had more zeroes than any other job in this part of Vale. The only thing that would've paid more was smuggling drugs, and that was illegal. And wrong.
It took half an hour for team RWBY to finish. Half an hour of Jaune sweating bullets and praying to whatever god out there that he wouldn't get caught. When Weiss finally called him over to get the check, Jaune returned to the table with with the bill and an overly chipper expression that looked way too fake to be genuine. He carefully placed the receipt near Weiss, who had made an offhand comment about the table not being pristine enough for her refined standards. As he stepped back, Blake's golden eyes flicked up from her book, watching him with unnerving intensity.
"Juliette," Blake said softly, her tone neutral but sharp enough to cut through the ambient noise of the cafe.
Jaune stiffened slightly but maintained his smile, "Yes, mistress? Is there something I can assist you with?"
Blake set her book down, folding her hands neatly in her lap. Her gaze never wavered as she tilted her head slightly, "You smell familiar."
His heart skipped a beat, "I...beg your pardon?"
"I said," Blake continued, her voice steady, "You smell familiar. Like soap, steel, and..." She sniffed lightly, her nose wrinkling ever so slightly, "Sweat. The exact same as Jaune after he finishes training."
Jaune felt the tray in his hands wobble. He gripped it tightly to steady himself, his lips stretching into a forced grin. What the fuck? Sweat? How in the hell could she tell someone's sweat?! That wasn't Faunus senses, that was just plain bullshit! "I-I'm sure you must be mistaken, mistress. Perhaps someone else here uses a similar soap?"
Blake arched a delicate brow, "Maybe. But then there's the way you walk."
Jaune blinked, "My...walk?"
"Yeah," she said calmly, "You're way too stiff for someone playing the role of a maid. Most people wouldn't notice, but I've seen you in combat drills. You move the exact same way when you're trying to avoid falling flat on your face."
"That's not-"
"And you've got the same scar Jaune has from that training accident a month back." Jaune's eyes snapped to the faint line above his right knuckles and he quickly covered it with his left hand. He cursed himself for not wearing the frilly gloves the manager offered him earlier.
"Yo, Blake, what's going on?" Yang asked. Blake ignored her, too focused on the nervously sweating maid.
Jaune's smile faltered for a fraction of a second before he caught himself, "Mistress, I assure you-"
"And your voice." Blake leaned back in her chair, her gaze sharpening further, "It's pitched higher, but you slipped earlier when Yang teased you. I caught it."
Jaune felt a bead of sweat roll down his back, "I-I don't know what you're talking about. I'm Juliette, just a maid serving at this cafe~."
Blake tilted her head again, her expression unreadable, "Are you?"
"Yes!" Jaune snapped, the strain in his tone painfully obvious, "I don't even know this Jaune person you're talking about!"
Blake stared at him for a moment longer, then her lips curved into the faintest of smirks, "If you're not Jaune," she said, her voice dropping into a casual drawl, "Then why are you sweating so much?"
"B-Because I'm being accused by a stranger of being someone I'm not!" Jaune snapped.
Big mistake. Whether it was nerves or something else, he couldn't keep up the pitch in his voice. Instead of the voice of Juliette the maid, what came out was the very indignant voice of Jaune Arc. Jaune froze, his heart sinking into the pit of his stomach as the slip of his voice echoed in the air like a death knell. For a moment, there was silence - a terrible, foreboding silence that almost choked him with how heavy it was.
Then the chaos began.
Yang's reaction came first, her eyes snapping wide open in recognition. Unfortunately for her, she'd been leaning her chair precariously back on two legs, her usual confidence betraying her in the worst possible moment, "Wait a se-!" she began, but gravity cut her off. The chair tilted too far, and with a loud crash, Yang toppled backward, landing flat on her ass. Her wild laughter immediately followed, ringing through the cafe as she pointed an accusatory finger at him from her new spot on the floor.
"Oh my God, it is you!" she howled, clutching her sides, "Jaune, what the hell are you doing in a maid outfit?!" Tears of laughter streamed down her face, and her chair wobbled pitifully on its side next to her.
Ruby's gasp was so sharp it sounded like she'd just uncovered a shocking plot twist in one of her favorite comic books. She leaned forward, her wide eyes practically sparkling as she scanned him up and down, "Jaune?!" she squeaked, barely able to process the sight before her, "Is that really you? Like...you-you're actually wearing...that?" Her finger wavered as she pointed at his frilly uniform, her face somewhere between horrified and fascinated.
Jaune's blush deepened to an alarming shade of crimson, "I-I can explain!" he stammered, his voice cracking as he tried to gesture toward them, "It's not what it looks like-"
"It's exactly what it looks like!" Yang cut in, still laughing hysterically, "Oh, this is priceless! I knew you'd look good in a dress, but I didn't think you'd commit this hard!" She doubled over again, her laughter devolving into wheezing giggles.
The absolute worst reaction, however, came from Weiss. At first, her expression was one of pure shock, her icy blue eyes blinking rapidly as if trying to process the impossible. Her lips parted, but no sound came out. Then, slowly, the shock gave way to something much more dangerous: indignation. Her jaw tightened, and her arms crossed over her chest as she stared at him like she'd just uncovered some sort of cosmic injustice.
"How?" Weiss hissed, her voice trembling with disbelief. The next words to come out of her mouth were the last ones he expected, "How do you look so pretty?!" She jabbed a finger toward him, her sharp tone growing more incredulous with each word, "You're supposed to be...well, you! And yet here you are, in my presence, looking more refined in that ridiculous outfit than some of the actual maids I've hired! It's infuriating!"
Jaune blinked, completely taken off guard, "Wait, what?"
"And another thing!" Weiss continued, her frustration mounting, "How do you-" She gestured vaguely toward his chest, her cheeks reddening with outrage, "How do you even have those?! You're flat as a board!"
Jaune's face burned hotter as he stammered, "T-they're fake! Padding! It's part of the uniform!" His voice cracked again, and he swore he could hear Yang trying to catch her breath from laughing too hard.
Weiss let out a noise somewhere between a groan and a gasp, throwing her hands in the air, "Fake or not, the fact that you even bothered- ugh! This is beyond humiliating!"
"For who?" Jaune asked weakly, the question earning him a withering glare that immediately made him regret opening his mouth.
"I don't know how you managed this," Weiss seethed, "But you've officially ruined this cafe for me. I hope you're proud of yourself!"
Meanwhile, Ruby looked as though she were still trying to wrap her head around the situation, "Wait, wait, wait," she said, holding her hands out in a gesture for calm that was entirely out of place considering the storm of emotions brewing at the table, "So...Jaune's been our maid this entire time?"
"Looks like it!" Yang chimed in, still on the floor, "Man, this makes the whole ketchup-heart thing even better. You seriously drew a heart on my omelette while wearing this?" She gave him a look that was a mix of amazement and pure, unadulterated smug.
Jaune groaned, burying his face in his hands, "Please...Please don't bring that up."
"Oh, I'm definitely bringing it up," Yang said, smirking at him, "I'm gonna bring it up every time I see you in the cafeteria. 'Hey Jaune, can you draw me another ketchup heart? You're so good at it!'"
Ruby tilted her head, finally noticing how red Jaune's face had become, "Wait, are you okay? You're, like, really red. Do you have a fever?" She paused, then gasped, "Oh no! What if you're sick? That's why you took this job, right? To pay for medicine!"
Jaune shot her an incredulous look, "No, I'm not sick, Ruby!"
Ruby pouted, "Oh. Well...you could've been."
Blake, who had been silent through most of the exchange, finally spoke up, her calm voice cutting through the chaos, "So...you're doing this for the money," she said, her tone flat but tinged with the faintest hint of amusement, "That's why you're working here. Because you needed the money."
Jaune's shoulders slumped, his arms hanging limply at his sides, "Yes," he muttered, his voice barely audible, "I needed the money. And this place pays really well, okay?"
Yang snorted, unable to contain herself, "Dude, you should've just asked me for some lien! I'd have given you the money and saved you from all this!"
Jaune shot her a glare, his voice finally rising above the chaos, "You think I'd want to owe you money after this? No thanks!"
Yang cackled again, "Fair point!"
Meanwhile, Weiss shook her head, still visibly fuming as she muttered, "Unbelievable. Just...unbelievable." She turned her attention to the manager, who was watching the scene unfold with an amused smile, "You! How much do you pay your staff? Out of curiosity."
"Oh, quite a lot," the manager replied cheerfully, "More than enough to justify the...unique requirements of the job."
Weiss huffed, crossing her arms again, "Typical. This kingdom truly has no standards."
Jaune groaned and clasped his hands together in a desperate plea, his voice trembling as he looked at his sister team, "Please. Please don't tell anyone about this! I'll do anything. Just keep it between us, okay?"
Ruby's expression softened immediately, her face crumpling in concern, "Aw, Jaune, I wouldn't tell anyone! You don't have to worry about me." She gave him a reassuring smile, though it faltered slightly as she added, "But...uh, I might have some questions later. This is kinda weird." She suddenly blushed, "N-Not like a bad weird or anything!"
"Questions can wait," Weiss snapped, her tone still sharp as she crossed her arms and glared at Jaune, "I'm still trying to process how this is even possible!" Her eyes narrowed as she scrutinized him like she was trying to solve a really annoying captcha, "For instance, why is your makeup so good?! It's entirely too clean and precise for someone like you!" He was almost offended by her indignant tone. What the heck did she mean 'someone like him'?
Jaune winced, his blush deepening, "I...had practice," he admitted reluctantly, "My sisters used to, uh...dress me up. A lot."
Weiss's eyes widened in disbelief, "That's where you learned this? Your sisters?!" She threw her hands in the air, "Unbelievable. Just- ugh!" She shot a glare down at his feet, "And the heels! Why are you wearing heels?! You're already tall enough!"
"It's part of the uniform!" Jaune said quickly, his voice almost cracking, "I didn't choose them!" He loooked to his manager for help, but the older woman was pointedly looking away and whislting innocently. The rest of the maids and customers weren't any help either. They apparently all decided it was none of their business.
"And your voice!" Weiss continued, her frustration mounting, "How is your voice so...so authentic?! You sounded like a completely different person earliee!"
"I don't know!" Jaune said, exasperated, "I just...I've always been able to do it, okay?! Stop asking!"
Weiss's gaze dropped to his skirt and thigh-high socks, her expression pinched. Her voice lowered to a mortified whisper, "And...And how, exactly, are you keeping your...you know what hidden?"
Jaune's mouth fell open, his face practically glowing red, "Stop staring!" he hissed, practically hopping back a step and clutching his skirt like it could shield him from her scrutiny. Blake made a crack about how he was acting like someone straight out of an anime. He ignored her.
Weiss's cheeks flushed a matching shade of crimson, and she turned her face away with an indignant huff, "Well, I had to ask! It's distracting! Is it lacking in size? Is that how you're able to hide it so well?"
"NO!" Jaune shrieked, "It's above average, thank you very much!"
Yang finally picked herself up off the floor, brushing off her shorts with a sly grin, "You know, Weiss," she said, her tone dripping with mischief, "I can't tell if you're mad because Jaune's pulling this off better than you ever could, or if you're jealous."
Weiss stiffened, whirling to face her with wide, offended eyes, "Excuse me?!"
Yang's grin widened. She smelled blood in the water, "Yeah, I mean, you're laying it on really thick. Talking about his makeup, the heels, the voice, even asking about the, uh, other stuff. If I didn't know better, I'd say you want to- " She wiggled her eyebrows suggestively, making a circle with her right hand then shoving her index finger inside "-have some fun while he's in that dress."
Ruby, halfway through a sip of her water, choked and started coughing violently, "Yang!" she gasped, slamming the glass back on the table as her face turned red.
Jaune looked like he wanted to melt into the floor and disappear forever, "That is not helping!" he yelled.
Weiss' face turned an angry shade of red and she sputtered, "H-how dare you insinuate such a thing?!" she snapped, her voice climbing to an octave Jaune hadn't even thought possible, "Why on Remnant would I ever - ever - think of doing that with him?!"
Yang smirked, leaning forward on her elbows, "I don't know, you tell me," she said smoothly, "You're the one grilling him like he's a piece of meat." Jaune groaned. Seriosuly? Puns? Right now? That was definitely why he never had a crush on her. She'd turn anything into a pun if she could help it. He went to her comedy night.
Weiss' hands balled into fists at her sides and she glared daggers at Yang. If looks could kill, the grinning blonde would've already been six feet under, "I am merely pointing out the absurdity of this situation! I am not - repeat, not - jealous, and I certainly don't want to- ugh!" She cut herself off with a frustrated growl, her composure teetering dangerously. Jaune was too mortified to be offended that she called his dick small earlier.
Ruby, still coughing, raised a shaky hand, "Um...maybe we should all calm down? Like, right now?"
Blake, who had been silently observing the entire exchange with a raised brow, finally spoke up, "This is...fascinating," she said, voice as dry as cardboard, "But we are still in public, you know."
The reminder seemed to snap everyone back to reality. Weiss straightened her posture with a haughty sniff, her face still red. Yang chuckled and picked up her chair, sitting back down smugly. Ruby looked between them nervously, as if unsure whether to intervene. Meanwhile, Jaune groaned, burying his face in his hands, "I'm never going to live this down, am I?" he muttered.
Yang patted him on the back with a grin, "Not a chance, maid boy. Not a chance."
[line break]
Jaune had somehow managed to scrape through the rest of the team RWBY ordeal without further disaster. After what felt like a lifetime of awkwardness, pointed stares, and Yang's relentless teasing, the four finally left the cafe, Weiss dragging them out with a huff after paying the bill. Jaune didn't even bother looking at how much she tipped. His only priority was to survive the rest of his shift without collapsing into a puddle of mortified embarrassment.
He tried to shake off the feeling of impending doom as he returned to his duties. Cleaning tables, refilling sugar jars, and forcing a smile whenever another customer addressed him as Juliette. All the while, a heavy pit of dread sat in his stomach, growing larger with every passing minute. He couldn't stop replaying their reactions in his mind. Weiss's indignant accusations, Ruby's wide-eyed disbelief, Blake's raised brow, Yang's insufferable smirk- Oh, God, Yang. She was never going to let this go. Every meal at the Beacon cafeteria would be a reminder of his humiliation, served with a side of ketchup hearts.
No, he told himself, gripping the edge of the counter as he tried to focus on the present, 'I'll be fine. They promised not to tell anyone. I just have to get through this shift, go back to Beacon, and...I don't know. Lay low for a few weeks? Months? Maybe I can transfer to Atlas.'
He glanced at the clock. Just fifteen more minutes. If he could keep his head down and avoid any more surprises, he'd be home free with a pocket full of lien.
Jaune was halfway through wiping down a table when the cafe door slammed open with enough force to make the little bell above it jingle frantically. He jumped, his heart skipping a beat as he turned toward the source of the commotion. Standing in the doorway, framed by the golden afternoon light, was Pyrrha.
And she looked...off.
Her normally serene face was flushed an alarming shade of red, her emerald eyes darting around the cafe like she was hunting for something. Or someone. Her breathing was quick and shallow, her chest rising and falling as if she'd just sprinted all the way from Beacon. A bead of sweat trailed down her temple, and her expression was a mix of determination and something else Jaune couldn't quite place. Either way, it was terrifying.
"P-Pyrrha?" Jaune stammered softly to himself, gripping the rag in his hand like a lifeline, "What's she doing here?" Pyrrha didn't say word. Her eyes scanned the room, narrowing slightly as they passed over the other customers and staff. Then, like a predator locking onto its prey, her eyes landed squarely on him. Her face turned even redder - if that were possible - and her lips parted slightly, but no words came out. Nothing but a soft gasp.
"Uh..." Jaune took a cautious step back, his instincts screaming at him to flee, "M-Mistress? Do you need help with something?" This was all a coincidence, he told himself. She was just here to...get a drink or some food or something. Team RWBY promised they wouldn't say anything!
Again, Pyrrha said nothing. Her lips pressed into a thin line as she closed the distance between them with alarming speed. Jaune barely had time to process what was happening before her hands shot out, grabbing him firmly by the shoulders.
"Wait, hold on-!" he yelped, but before he could finish, she bent down, wrapped an arm around his waist, and hoisted him clean off the ground.
"Pyrrha!" Jaune shouted, flailing uselessly as the cafe floor disappeared beneath him. In his panic, he completely forgot to pitch his voice or play dumb, "What are you doing?! Put me down!" Pyrrha didn't answer. With a strength that was both awe-inspiring and terrifying, she adjusted him over her shoulder like he was nothing more than a sack of potatoes. Her movements were quick, precise, and completely indifferent to his frantic squirming. She held him firmly in place as she pivoted on her heel and marched toward the door.
"Help!" Jaune cried, his voice cracking as he waved toward his stunned coworkers, "Someone stop her! This is kidnapping!"
"Have a nice day!" the manager called out cheerfully from behind the counter, completely unconcerned with the scene unfolding in her cafe.
"Wait, you're okay with this?!" Jaune shouted, his head whipping around as he tried to twist free of Pyrrha's grip. He might as well have been struggling against an iron vice, "Pyrrha, what the hell is going on?! Why are you- oh God, are you mad at me? Did I do something wrong? If I did, I'm sorry!"
Pyrrha still didn't respond. If anything, she seemed even more determined, her strides long and purposeful as she pushed through the cafe door and stepped into the street. Jaune's flailing legs kicked uselessly in the air, and his hands beat against her back in a desperate attempt to free himself. It was useless. Pyrrha didn't have as much raw Aura as him, but what she did have was years of experience in the tournament circuit. His fists might as well have been spitballs.
"I- Pyrrha, come on! Talk to me! You're freaking me out!" Jaune begged, craning his neck to look at her face. All he could see was the side of her head, her face still red as she kept her eyes fixed forward. Her lips were pressed together so tightly they'd turned pale, and her breaths came in short, sharp bursts. She raised him higher on her shoulder, "Hey, stop! My skirt! It's riding up!" he shrieked. His partner - the person he could trust with his life - completely ignored his frantic pleas and just kept walking.
Jaune cursed team RWBY in his head. When he got back to Beacon, he was gonna give them a piece of his mind!
...
But first, he had to deal with whatever the heck was going with Pyrrha.
[line break]
Poor Jaune. Just wants some lien, ends up awakening something in team RWBY and Pyrrha. Apparently, Huntresses are into femboys. The sight of Jaune in that dress really does something to them, especially Weiss. She's having serious regrets rejecting Jaune now that she's seen him in that outfit.
Question:
1. I'm kinda torn on Pyrrha. The two are definitely fucking next chapter, but I have two options how.
- Option one, she frames it as her wanting to train him and Jaune either being dumb or flustered enough not to question too much.
- Option two, she just throws shame away completely, gets down on her hands and knees, and begs to fuck him in that dress.
2. Who do you guys want after Pyrrha? The vote's tied between Weiss, Blake and Cinder right now.
Comments
Yugo Strange
2 and Weiss
Mysterious Benefactor
Definitely option 2
The Brotherhood of Steel
1.Begs him 2. Weiss but has him dress as winter. Hope Coco gets a future chapter.
pilot puntastic
Looks like Jaune's living up to the Joan of Arc name now, just with less God and more Maid Cafe. For the question I'm going with option 2 definitely. Pyrrha acting like an unstoppable force before getting on her knees to beg is hilarious juxtaposition.
Baran Sevim
Option 2 makes the most sense IMO
nemo1986
2. Let this be the point she finally breaks.
