Summary: Winter Schnee invites Jaune over to make a surprise breakfast for Weiss.

Breakfast with Winter

RWBY

The burlap sack over Jaune's head made his disoriented.

It smelled like corn flakes.

"W-Winter? W-where are you? I thought we were making breakfast!" As soon as the young lad stepped onto the premises he was attacked by several vicious rottweilers, armed men with clubs, and an helicopter that used its public announcement system to repeatedly question Jaune's masculinity. "I'm hungry!"

His hands and feet were bound to presumably a chair. It was cold wood. The tight knots dug into Jaune's wrist and ankles.

Then, footsteps.

"Winter? Hey Winter is that you? Please tell me it's you."

"Jauneee…"

It was Winter.

"Winter! I got this bag on my head! Take it off. Wait, where am I? Why am I tied up?"

The burlap sack was removed.

"Hello Jaune."

"W-Winter! Thank goodness! I think I got captured and-"

"Of course you got captured. I captured you. Who else?"

"W-why!"

Winter narrowed her eyes.

"So we can make breakfast silly."

"Wh-what?"

A chill swept through Jaune's privates.

"Wait! Before all that! Why am I in my boxers!?"

A pair of white boxers speckled with hearts was all that kept Jaune from experiencing complete and utter shame.

Winter sighed. "So anyways. Here's the kitchen."

It was only then that Jaune realized he was in an immaculately clean kitchen. Every tile and fixture was white and polished.

"W-Winter…?"

The lady was gone to the refrigerator. When she returned, she brought a long thin box with her.

"See these two eggs?"

"Yes…"

Jaune carefully eyed the pair of perfectly AAA-grade eggs that were pulled straight out of the carton.

"Now imagine them as your nuts…"

"O-okay…"

Winter held the pair of unfertilized hen zygotes high above the heated pan with a dash of oil.

"Now imagine me gently… squeezing the shit out of them!"

An instantaneously deathgrip shattered shell and sanity.

Jaune's nuts exploded.

Shell and yellow ooze mixed sickenly together as they dripped into the pan. The yolk was broken. The mixture sizzled fusing shell and whites and yolk together in an unholy trinity.

Jaune's mind is no more.

"Winter! Stop! You're getting shells into the eggs!"

"Yolk for the Yolk God. Shells for the shell throne."

Winter could not hear Jaune over the sound of her own maniacal laughter.

"Winter stop! Please! You're ruining the eggs!"

"Yes! Yes! Now watch your nuts get scrambled!"

With a wooden spatula Winter began to viciously beat her eggs. Her mind was sunken to the depths of oblivion. No longer were those Jaune's nuts frying in the pan in their heretical existence. All Winter saw in them was her father's face.

She beated it mercilessly.

"Hahaha! How do you like that? How do you like that!?"

"Winter! Stop!"

"You know what these eggs need? Some seasoning. Do you know what the best seasoning for eggs is, Jaune?"

"Kitten tears? Because what you're doing is wrong. So wrong!"

Winter's neck snapped backwards. Her eyes glared at Jaune.

"I am doing nothing wrong. Nothing."

Her voice hissed with venom.

"O-okay."

"The answer's bullets by the way. The best seasoning is bullets."

"Wha-"

Winter drew a revolver out of her coat and shot three rounds straight into the pain.

"I like the iron it adds. Reminds me of blood. I like my eggs with a little bit of kick."

"Winter! You're crazy!"

Winter's shuddered. "Me? Crazy?"

"Yeah! Who the hell mixes eggs and shells together! You sicko. I want to go home. Making breakfast with you is like watching a train wreck."

"We lost so many shipments of dust in train wrecks…" Winter whispered absentmindedly to herself.

"Uh… okay. So like, can you let me go? I kind of want to go home and, you know, make an actual breakfast were the eggs don't have shell in them."

Winter slowly craned her neck in the boy's direction.

It tilted like a question mark.

"Oh? Okay. Let's make some cereal."

"Cereal? You mean like corn flakes?"

"Indeed."

Winter grabbed a bowl and left for the pantry. She withdrew some cornflakes and returned with a carton of milk.

Winter wet the cornflakes on a table and set Jaune still strapped to the chair in front of the bowl.

Winter then poured the milk.

"Hey you actually did this right."

"I know I did. Just wait. It gets better."

"Huh? What do you mean wait? Are you going to add something to it?"

"Nope," Winter said with a smile, making sure to pop the 'p'.

"Uh… so what are we waiting for?"

"For when it reaches perfection."

"What do you mean… it's ready now… if you wait any longer it'll get soggy…"

"...and delicious," Winter finished with a sickenly sweet smile.

Jaune's thoughts paused.

Winter didn't eat her cornflakes crunchy and immediately.

Winter didn't eat her cornflakes in the correct manner.

Winter was waiting.

Winter was waiting for the milk and cornflake to mix and swirl.

Winter ate her cornflakes soggy.

The realization shattered Jaune.

"You're sick lady! Sick!"

"But look. Give it an hour or so. After then it'll be sooo delicious."

"Woman! It'll be mush in an hour!"

"Exactly."

"Sick! You're utter sick! Depraved! You disgustingly illiterate philistine!"

Winter raised a yolk-and-shell-soaked hand. She never wiped her hand cleaned with a towel after crushing the eggs.

She pressed her palm gently to Jaune's cheek.

"Oh my dear Jaune…"

Her hand massaged Jaune's cheek. Jaune shuddered from the touch of yolk and uncooked whites with shells prickling his skin. "Winter… stop…"

"You know, I forgot to make the sausage…"

"Sausage? What are you going to do, fill them with turkey?"

"No. I'm going to warm up your sausage."

"Warm up my saus-"

Winter's hand then proceeded in a direction Jaune was intensely uncomfortable with.

"No! Stop! I don't want to eat that! Please! Anything but that!"

"You know, I have a hard time starting my day without some sausage in me…"

Winter hovered her Jaune.

Hunter was in her eyes.

Then a voice came from upstairs.

"Winter? Are you cooking again?"

"Uh, yess Weiss I am!" Winter replied back.

"Weis-"

Winter's smelly sock immediately gagged Jaune as he as quickly thrown into the pantry.

It was dark.

Jaune was still tied to a chair.

Nothing more than an observer with Winter's sweet and delicious foot sweat to taste.

"Hey Weiss. Good morning. Sleep well?" Jaune could hear voices outside.

"Yeah. Slept like an iceberg. How's breakfast?"

"It's coming along…"

"Ew. You got shell in the eggs again. You were always bad at cooking."

"Haha, yeah. How's the cornflakes?"

"Ugh. Too mushy… and hey, where's the sausage?"

"I think we ran out…"

"That's fine. I'll just get some poptarts from the pantry."

"W-wait! Weiss! Stop!"

The pantry door opened. A surge of light rushed to Jaune's eyes.

Weiss stared deadpanned at Jaune.

Jaune stared back at Weiss. Winter's sock still in his mouth. Any words he formed were garbled up as an incoherent mess of sounds and syllables. Yolk and shell were still stuck to his face from Winter's delicate touch.

Weiss looked at Jaune.

Jaune looked at Weiss.

His tongue pressed against Winter's sock. The more he pressed as he tried to speak, the more the thick taste of Winter's foot sunk into his mouth.

Weiss! Help me! Your sister's crazy!

Weiss reached over.

Weiss picked up a box of poptarts.

And closed the door.

Breakfast with Winter Fin

Author's Notes: The Winter hype is real. She's mine. Yeah, this one is mine. Move over Neo, there's a new waifu in town.