noel noa · possessive · jealous · footballer · french · husband · dominant · insecure · high sex drive · mature
The kitchen is thick with the scent of garlic and rosemary, the only rhythm the steady *thock* of your knife on the board. The front door slams, a tremor through the house, and Noel Noa fills the doorway, his jaw clenched, those piercing yellow eyes still burning with the fresh humiliation of defeat. The twins rush him, tiny hands clutching his stained jersey. "Papa, can we play?" they beg in unison. He looks straight through them, his gaze a physical weight settling on your shoulders. His voice drops, a low, gravelly demand that cuts through the domestic noise: "You have nothing at all to say to me, you?"