Papa!Sweden x Child!Reader

It was getting late in the day as you sat and watched your step brother, Peter, play video games. He usually never let you play, but you liked watching him more anyway. However, this has been going on all day long. He played video games and your papa worked in the shop. As time drew on, you became bored of watching him play his XBox and decided it would be more fun to watch your father work. Getting up, you headed to the door wear his shop was.

"Papa!" You called, knocking on the door. "Papa! Can I come in?"

When there was no answer, you grew curious and opened the door anyways.

Inside you noticed the lights were on, but your father was no where to be seen. To you, the room almost looked like you stepped into another dimension. There were different shape and colored tools on the walls and floors, along with various types of furniture.

"Don't come in here without me." Your father's voice echoed in your head. "Its very dangerous."

You knew better then to disobey your father, but just taking a quick look around couldn't hurt. Taking a quick look around to make sure your tattle tale brother wasn't looking, you walked in.

As you took your quick stroll, you couldn't understand why your father said it was dangerous. His work never failed to impress you. As you approached one of his work benches, you noticed some unfinished objects on his desk. Figuring you would get a better look, you pushed a chair over, and climbed up. You weren't up there long. Almost as soon as you were up there, you lost your balance after slipping on some wet paint. As you fell, you tried to grab onto something to steady yourself, but ended up taking the sander with you. Landing on the hard floor below, you heard an audible smash. Looking around, you saw your father's desk was now a complete mess and to top it off, you broke one of his tools.

"Oh, no!" You said to yourself, picking the sander and the few pieces that broke off up.

In a flustered panic, you hid the small machine under one of his finished benches. With that out of sight, you ran out of the room as well.

While you ran to your spot on the couch, you didn't notice your father coming around the hall behind you. Raising an eyebrow, Berwald continued on his way back to his shop. He stopped when he noticed the (color) paint leading out of the room and down the hall.

"What did she do now?" he asked himself as he entered his shop.

You finally reached your destination. Sitting down, you could feel your heart beating rapidly in your chest. Your father was going to have your hide if he figured out you were the one that messed up his shop. For now, you tried to relax and seem as innocent as you could.

"Peter. (Name)." Your father's voice was calm, but had the tone that told both of you someone was in trouble.

Both of you looked towards him. He was standing tall, eyes narrowed, hands behind his back, and foot slowly tapping.

"What is my number one rule in this house?" He asked sternly.

"Wait until I'm an adult before bothering Mister Kirkland?" Peter tried.

"No, Peter," Berwald replied. "(Name) knows, I'm sure." His ice blue eyes looked directly into your (e/c) ones.

"D-don't go into your shop?" Your heart was pounding and your voice was shaking.

"Good," with that he pulled out from behind him the broken sander. "Can someone tell my why that rule was broken?"

"Yes, papa," you whimpered putting on the pouting look.

"You can tell me in your room." 

He strode over to you and walked with you up the stairs to your bedroom. You could feel tears welling up in your eyes when he opened the door for you.

"Well young lady," he started sitting on your bed. "I'm waiting."

"I'm sorry, Papa." You sniffled, taking a seat next to him.

"Sorry doesn't tell me what happened, (Name), but I think I know." He set the broken machine on your nightstand. "You were curious and didn't think I would know if you went in. However curiosity got the best of you and you wound up braking the sander and getting full of paint. You got scared that I would be mad, you're right, hid the sander and ran out without knowing I saw you run out of my shop as I walked down the hall. Am I right or wrong?"

"Right," you whimpered out. "I'm sorry I broke the sander."

"I'm not mad about the sander. Accidents happen. I am mad you purposely disobeyed me and tried to hide what you did. I am also not to happy about the paint mess I'll have to clean up." He sighed, rolling up his sleeve. "I think we both know what needs to be done. Lay over my knee, (Name)."

"No!" you cried, inching away while your hands moved to cover your behind. "No, Papa! No! I said I was sorry and it won't happen again!" You jumped off the bed and went to the door only to find it locked.

" Do not make this any harder on yourself." He responded, sitting patiently.

"Don't spank me, Papa!" You begged, knowing fleeing wasn't an option. "I'll be good, please don't spank me!"

"(Name)," He started, sounding slightly irritated. "Don't make me come get you. I will count to three. If you are not over here by that time, I will use the hairbrush. One."

You didn't move. Instead you crossed your arms and stood your ground.

"Two."

If he was really going to use a hairbrush he would have to go get it, meaning he would have to open the door, giving you a chance to run.

"(Name), do not push me..." he waited a moment to see if you would move. You didn't. "Three..." His last word was forced.

Standing up, you saw the sander wasn't the only thing your papa hid behind his back. You felt your heart sink when you 

noticed the hairbrush laying on the bed. While you were busy staring at it, Berwald easily picked you up. He went back to the bed, sat down, and held you over his knee. With a sigh, he raised his hand and started.

 

The first few never really hurt, just sort of let the situation sink in. As his hand came up and down on your backside, you tried to wiggle free, only earning a firmer hold, and harder smacks.

"Papa!" You whined. "Stop it!"

"Not yet, (Name). You were a naughty little girl and so I am punishing you as such." After he said this, you felt the spanking stop momentarily as your pants were brought down to your knees. Just as soon as they were, he started spanking again.

Without the protection of your pants, your father's rough hands really started to heat up your poor butt. You started kicking.

"Stop right now, (Name)," The Swedish man snapped delivering a firm swat to your upper thighs. Grabbing the hem of your panties, he gave them a gentle tug. "If you keep that up these will come down."

You crossed your legs, trying desperately not to kick. It hurt. Whimpering, you did your best to not cry out as tears rolled down your face. It continued like this for what seemed like an eternity. His carpenter hands were rough, strong and calloused, not helping in your situation.

"(Name)," He said gently as you started crying openly. "Its okay, you have been a good girl. Just ten more with the hairbrush, and we will call it done."

You didn't respond, all you could do was sniffle and nod.

Berwald reached behind himself and grabbed the dreaded brush. Lifting it up, he brought it down with a firm smack on your tender skin. You let out a loud yelp when it hit the second time, as well as grip on to his pant leg.

"Daddy!" You cried. It was a rare occasion when you called him anything but `Papa'. 

The brush fell again, this time were your sit spot was. This is were it landed the remainder of the swats. You let out yelps and cries while he finished.

After the tenth smack, he threw the brush aside and pulled you into a tight hug. Berwald rubbed your back as you cried into his shoulder. 

"It's okay, (Name)." He shushed, kissing the top of your head. "You deserved that. It is all over now, little one. It's okay."

He held you like that, repeating soothing words like this until you calmed down. When you did, you noticed his breathing was hitched ad well.

"I'm really sorry, Papa." you cried wrapping your arms around his neck. "Please don't be sad. I'll save up my allowance and buy you a new sander."

"I already told you I wasn't upset about that." He responded, wiping his eyes. "I could have lost you. There are dangerous tools in there. Saws, mallets, heavy equipment, just about anything in my shop could hurt you or worse. I would never forgive myself if something happened to you."

You squeezed his neck tighter.

"Love you, Papa." You whispered in his ear.

Standing up, he picked you off him and set you, stomach down on the bed. You snuggled into the covets, your bottom still stung, but not near as bad now.

"Get some sleep. I have a mess to clean." With that he walked out the door.