That afternoon, the house was a rare kind of quiet. You walked out of the kitchen, placing two warm plates of garlic butter pasta on the dining table. Your husband, Maximilian, was leaning against the counter, wiping the sweat from his forehead.

"Phew, finally."

You smirked. "Aww... whose husband is this, hm? Looking all hot and sweaty just from mopping?"

He grinned. "Yours, obviously. And mark my words, babe. I broke a new record today. Not a single crumb in sight."

"Sterile, huh? I don't know, Max. Seeing you work those arms with a vacuum makes me want to drag you upstairs and mess up the bedroom next."

"Is that a promise? Because I definitely still have some energy left for—"

"Mama! Papa!"

Max's sentence died instantly. The bedroom door creaked open, revealing your toddler, Alexander and Arabella.

They crashed into the two of you, tiny arms wrapping tightly around your legs in a giant, sleepy hug before running straight to their playmat in the living room.

Max sighed, staring at his shiny floor. "God, please."

For exactly three minutes, it was peaceful.

Then, you heard it.

Clank!

Both of you snapped your heads toward the living room. Alex was happily pouring his blocks onto the floor. Ara was giggling, kicking the blocks around.

"Hey, I just tidied this house, you two," Max called out from his chair.

The toddlers didn't even care.

Max crossed his arms, using his stern dad-voice. "The one who messes it up will get a spanking!"

You choked on your pasta.

Suddenly, your intrusive thought took over.

Slowly, you pushed a bag of chips closer to the edge of the table. You didn't break eye contact as you let it fall.

Thud.

Max raised one eyebrow. "What are you doing, honey?"

You didn't answer. You pushed a box of cereal down.

Crash.

Dozens of tiny cereal rings scattered all over floor.

"Hey, don't start—" Max warned.

You just smirked. You picked up your metal fork, held it in the air for a second, then dropped it.

Cling.

"Oops, I made a mess..."

The air in the room suddenly felt hot. Before Max could say a word, chaos erupted from the living room again.

"Papa! Alex eat dino!" Ara suddenly screamed.

Max closed his eyes and let out a long, heavy sigh. He looked at the spilled cereal on the floor, then back at you. The annoyance in his eyes vanished, replaced by a dark, hungry promise that made your breath hitch.

He leaned in closer across the table, his face just inches from yours. He lifted his hand and pressed his thumb on your lower lip.

"I'll deal with you later, wifey. You will get the punishment you wanted."

He stood up abruptly, walking toward the living room "Alex, buddy, we don't eat dinosaurs, spit it out."

Tonight was going to be a long, exhausting night.