Papa!Prussia x Child!Reader- Why Papa Doesn't Cook

You knew that your father couldn’t cook. Everyone did.


And it was only because of one moment.


It was a glorious day. The temperature was pleasant and the breeze was light enough to keep you pleasantly cool but not freezing. The sky was a bright blue, save for a few wispy clouds that lazily drifted over the landscape. You had woken up mere minutes earlier so that you could see your Uncle Ludwig off. He was scheduled to be in New York by nine o’clock that night, but he wanted to get there early so that he didn’t even have a chance of running behind. Your father was living with his younger brother, for reasons unknown. Well… at least you didn’t know them.


You weren’t sure why your father seemed so nervous when your uncle left. Your uncle had left you and your father back in Germany plenty of times when he traveled the world for his meetings. It wasn’t as if he didn’t know how to take care of you, either. He had raised you!


As your Uncle Luddy shut the door behind him, you peeked out the window to see him placing his duffel bag in the trunk of his car before climbing in the driver’s seat and taking off. You quickly turned back to your father, your eyes lighting up. “Papa, I’m hungry!” you exclaimed, smiling.


Your father’s face morphed into a look of horror for a half a second before his usual cocky smile returned. “Yeah? Well, it is eight in the morning. We can eat cereal!”

“I don’t want cereal.”


“Fruit!”


“No.”


“…Toaster waffles?”


“Good enough.”


Prussia seemed extremely relieved. “I can make those,” he muttered, walking to the kitchen and opening the freezer. Once he had pulled out the cardboard box that was filled with the frozen breakfast treats, he pulled out a toaster from a cabinet. He popped two waffles in it and turned to see you swinging your legs from one of the too-big chairs at the table. He grinned.


You and your father talked for a few minutes before the toaster’s bell went off and he raced back to the kitchen to grab your breakfast. He came back to the table, carrying… two charred waffles.


“Dad.”


“Yeah?”


“How did you manage to burn toaster waffles?”


“I don’t even know. You want ice cream?”


“It’s better than burned waffles.”