You could feel his eyes on you from across the dimly lit
room, following your every move.
You were highly aware of it, the way he was just standing there, too casual to be casual,
too happy for someone who was
planning to just enjoy himself at the club.
He was thinking of more than that, with his dirty eyes
trained on you.
You tried to brush it off, you tried to ignore it – but you
couldn’t hide the panic that spiked your system every time he started to move
closer to you.
And it wasn’t your fault that you came to this club alone;
it wasn’t your fault you wanted to have some fun on a late night, it wasn’t
your fault that you wanted to look good with the dress that made you feel
beautiful and heels that put you on top of the world; makeup that made you
smirk into the mirror with red lips.
It wasn’t your fault for being beautiful – no, that’s not a
fault at all – but the way he was looking at you made it feel like it was.
You tried to lose him in the pulsing bodies, the fun of the night
replaced with fear, panic in your system where the tipsy spin of alcohol was.
But he was always there, underneath the yellow of a florescent
light, just before it flashed red.
Do you want to dance
You politely declined him the first time he asked – when you
first walked into the club, a small smile on your face, insisting that you
really just wanted to sit for a bit.
He frowns a little, but he says just remember to save a dance for me and he’s off, just another boy
who’ll move on to another girl and you’ve encountered people like him before;
he’ll forget about you the moment another girl caught his eyes.
But it’s been two hours and he keeps on coming back with
that greasy smile on his face and when he never leaves his eyes from you even
as he steps away.
You don’t like it.
“Where’s that dance you promised me?”
And his voice is too low, his mouth too close to your skin
and you don’t like the way his eyes sweep over you, you don’t like this, you
don’t like him.
“I didn’t promise you a thing.”
“’Course you did, baby. C’mon, just one dance.”
He’s looking at you like a meal but you weren’t made for his
“I don’t want to dance.”
“Just one won’t hurt anybody. I’ve been waiting for you all
“I said no.”
You try to sidestep him but he uses his broad shoulders to
block you and his hands are on your wrist, tugging you towards him while you
try to pull yourself away again.
“Let go of me.”
“No need to be so tense,
babe. Don’t be such a killjoy.”
He’s practically trying to drag you now, a pointed smile on
his lips at the sight of you trying to wriggle away from his grip.
You claw at his veined arms – aren’t you glad you did your
nails today? – and stomp on his foot – hard
– with those spiked heels that you loved so much.
He yelps with a loud swear that makes everyone within
vicinity turn and look your way, letting go of you in an instant, clutching at
his foot that was sorely bruised – fucking broken,
you hope – from your spiked heel.
“You crazy bitch!”
“Crazy bitch who doesn’t
want to dance. Take a hint, creep!”
You make your way through the crowd – who was gladly parting
for you – leaving the boy to limp away in shame as you held your head high.
You’re in the midst of texting your friend – who was likely
asleep, but you’d give it a shot anyways – to come and pick you up and listen
to you rant when a tall figure in front of you blocks the light you were using
to see the small screen.
You look up with raised, expectant eyebrows.
“Hey, uh – are you okay?”
Tall, tanned, sharp lines accented with the shadows and the
flashing lights, art on his arms and peeking from his shirt, eyes that were
dark enough to drown in – you would’ve called him cute in a way that didn’t mean just hair-ruffling on any other day,
but today you weren’t having it.
You say it in the way most people would clench go away.
“Listen, I know you’ve just had a rough night – and I know
you were looking for a fun one – and I know you’re probably sick of testosterone
at this point, but I think it’s in your best interest to know that the creep
you just single-handedly slayed has friends.”
You try to hide the panic underneath a stony façade, but you
can feel your chin trembling.
“I saw them in the men’s room and they didn’t look too happy
about one of their mates suffering a stiletto stab to the foot – and as much as
I would love to rewatch you do that
like six more times tonight – totally epic, by the way, you have my total
respect – I’d rather not put you through that.”
You’re quiet, staring at the boy’s immaculately clean shoes
and long legs, trying to gather your thoughts with tightly wound fingers around
“What were they saying?”
The boy hesitates and you already know what it means.
“Listen, do you have a ride out of here?”
“I – she’s asleep.”
“Call a cab. Now.”
You fumble with your phone, quickly dialling the number and
stammering out an address, pleading for a fast driver and the closest possible
When you hang up, you think you feel something collapsing
inside of you – the dam of calm, cool, collectiveness – and the fear and worry
starts to rush in.
He sees it and he stoops down to your level, trying to catch
“Hey, hang in there, alright? Breathe, there – just like
that, good. I’m Calum. Hood. At your service. What’s your name?”
You manage to tell him in between deep breaths and stutters.
“There we go. We’re gonna get you out of here, okay? Don’t
worry – you’re a strong girl and this is just a bad night. Don’t worry.”
His hands hover over your shoulders but they never land on
it; he’s a step away, just enough for you to inhale some fresh air without the
shadow of his body over you.
You close your eyes and take a few more deep breaths before
looking into his steady gaze again.
“Thank you, Calum. I – “
“Found someone else to run to, huh?”
The greasy voice is right behind you and you swallow your
fear and turn to face him.
“Was my message not clear enough the first time? Leave me alone.”
You refuse to tremble in front of him. Like the fucking mutt
he was, he could probably smell your fear.
You are not the prey.
Even if he has his friends circling you.
“Do you think you’re clever?”
“Oi, fuck off,
mate. She clearly doesn’t want you, so go leech on someone else.”
Calum’s jaw is set and his eyes are narrowed at the other
boy, muscles in his arm tensing.
“Gonna hide behind your boyfriend?”
“Gonna call the fucking cops for harassment if you don’t
leave me alone.”
“You won’t do it.”
“Bet you didn’t think I would crush your foot either, but
here we are.”
You’re trembling visibly but the fire in your eyes don’t
The boy steps towards you with sturdy steps, his friends
starting to do the same.
Calum swiftly steps in front of you, and you just manage to
peek from behind his sweat-glistened shoulders.
“Listen, asshat –
there are at least a hundred people in this club, fifty of which saw your slimy
ass hands on her and eighty who heard your pansy-ass screams when you didn’t
understand the meaning of no. All
eyes are on you, buddy – what are you gonna do?”
Calum’s words are a growl and you can see his fingers
curling into fists in the corner of your eye.
The other boy takes another step closer to Calum –
practically chest-to-chest now – this guy really
didn’t understand the concept of personal space – spitting his words right
“Does playing hero make
you feel better?”
“Does a foot up your ass sound good to you?”
Calum isn’t backing down, and the poison in his voice is
enough to keep the creep and his friends at bay – though it’s probably a mix of
that and his muscled build, which you were thankful for.
“Listen, you piece of horseshit, try anything – if you even look at her the wrong way – I will not
hesitate to kick your worthless ass to the curb and smash your dirty head in
for the rats to eat. I am saying this once and once only – fuck off.”
“You think you can say the same words when I string that
head up on my wall?”
This time, it’s you to steps in.
“Listen, I don’t know what kind of weird-ass Twilight coven shit you have going on
with you and your boys, but you have got to
get a hobby.”
“Why, you – “
“Crazy bitch, yeah, I know. Slutface McHooker queen,
whatever trashy name you want me to soothe your itty bitty aching heart from
rejection – but if you wanted a fucking dance, maybe you shouldn’t of treated
me like a piece of meat. Hard, I know. But maybe if you – oh my god, wait for
it – treated me like a fucking human,
then you’d have a chance at this one fucking dance that you wanted so much.”
He’s glaring at you openly now, his hands twitching at his
“Seriously, mate – there’s at least fifty other girls in
this club and you look like a dick for getting so worked up over one. Just
leave it alone.”
Calum’s trying the calmer approach, though you still see the
veins lining his arms from the tension.
“I don’t like being disrespected.”
“And I don’t like being handled by your greasy-ass hands – deal with it. You must love being the
fool though, because I spy with my little eye fucking security coming your way.”
The other boy whips around so quickly you swear you hear his
neck crack a little.
Sure enough, the black-figured security was heading your
way, and the creep with his gang of friends are quick to try and scamper away
“Everything okay here?”
“Can you take out the trash, kind sirs? The lady’s had a
Calum says the words with utmost respect and sincerity to
the bulky security guard, and with a small nod, they grab the entourage that
once surrounded you and harshly push them out, whispers and camera flashes from
the other clubbers following their path out.
When they’re gone, you finally exhale in relief.
“Do you have like an on switch in your head to be a badass
Calum laughs breathily at you, and you can’t help but to
grin at his words.
“My knees were shaking the whole entire time, oh my god.”
“They’re gone now. Strong girl.”
He places a steady hand on your shoulder and you smile
gratefully at him.
“Thank you, Calum. I – I don’t know what I’d do without you.”
“Probably kick some ass. Might get some enemy blood on that
pretty dress of yours.”
You laugh and shake your head, a small smile playing on his
“I mean it. Thank you.”
He nods in response to your sincerity, a quick pat before
his hand leaves your shoulder.
“Get going now. Your ride’s here.”
You follow his gaze to the bright taxicab in front of the
club, undoubtedly yours.
You look back at him and in a moment of spontaneity and
gratefulness, you envelop his sweating body in your arms for a quick hug, your
lips brushing his cheek as you pull away.
You rush out of the club after that, clumsily fitting
yourself into the taxicab with a split-second smile before the car whisks you
He watches you get into the car safely, watching the lights
disappear down the lonely street.
He’s not sure how to explain to his friends your red
lipstick stain on his cheek or the lingering remnants of your perfume on his
Got lucky, Cal?
He thinks of the girl with the fire in her eyes and the arch
of her brow, the confidence in her stance and the authority in her voice
despite the trembling of her fingers.
Doesn’t see anything wrong with being the little spoon, in fact he likes the comfort of having your arms wrapped around him and lets him know how much you love him. He especially likes it when he’s sleepy and can barely keep his eyes open, he’ll like being able to just curl up next to you and fall asleep. It’s one of the things he misses the most when he is on tour.
There are some days when you like being the little spoon as well, but most of the time you love being able to press your nose against the base of his neck and kiss across his shoulders.
Also likes being the little spoon, although he’ll never really say it out loud. He loves it most when his had a really bad day and doesn’t want to deal with whatever had happened. He won’t say anything but he’ll situate himself against you, head pressed to your stomach while his arms wrap tightly around your middle, it’s where he feels the most loved.
He’ll hum as you run your fingers through his hair, waiting until he is comfortable enough to tell you what’s wrong. Even if he doesn’t, you’ll hold onto him until one or both of you have fallen asleep.
Will be the big spoon no matter what. He wants to be strong and in control for you at all times and won’t allow himself to be vulnerable enough to become a little spoon. Besides, he likes the feeling of having you pressed against him, your arms and legs tangled with his in bed or on the couch.
He loves especially when your back is towards him, his nose buried in your hair. He really loves the smell of your shampoo.
Is a big spoon as well. He likes being able to comfort you after a long day or when you are upset about something. He’ll wrap his arms around you while you’re either in bed or on the couch, letting you press your face against the crook of his neck, breathing in the smell of his cologne.
Sometimes, on only rare occasions, when the world has just gotten too much to bare Michael will let you be the big spoon. Sometimes he needs the comfort as well and he likes that you are there to give it too him. But don’t expect the other boys to ever find out, it’s a secret he’ll take right to the grave.
Summary: All Calum wants when he’s angry is rough sex. He gets a little too rough.
Warnings: SMUT!!! Safeword use. Minor mentions of panic.
Calum had a long fuse.
That was common knowledge. But even the most kind, patient people got pissed and angry at times. Some people handled their rage with yelling. Some people just needed to smash stuff. Some people just needed to sleep. Some people needed a hot shower to calm them down. And some people needed time.
But some people were like your boyfriend. When Calum got angry -really angry- none of those methods worked. He needed control. He needed to be dominant. He needed to have hot, sweaty, rough sex that left you sore and satisfied. He liked plowing into you until he made you cum at least twice. He would usually go until he wore himself out, his gentle side coming back as you lay panting on the sheets. You liked it though. You loved passionate Calum more than anything, but on the rare occasions he got mad, you adored how rough he was. You loved watching his blood pulse through his veins as fucked you, making you feel better than ever. You loved how his love bites were always two shades darker when he was angry, biting harshly into your soft flesh. You loved how you slept like a baby afterwards, usually waking up to a nice breakfast and soft cuddles. You loved every bit of it. It was animalistic, and sometimes you just loved being tossed around like his rag doll.
Today was interesting.
Calum had left early in the afternoon to go to a writing session. He gave you sweet kisses and promised a nice night in watching movies. You were content with that. He even texted you half way through, saying everything was going great.
And then he came home.
“Calum?” You called, standing up from your seat at the counter as the door slammed. You had spent the day responding to emails for your busy boss, so you shut the computer and stepped onto the cold floor with your fuzzy socks. You were already in your pajamas, exhausted from the hike you had gone on early that morning with your friend.
You were cut off as his hot body pushed into your own, his lips smashing into yours and his tongue immediately asking for entrance and getting it. His left hand bunched your shirt up as he grabbed your left breast harshly, groping your butt with his other hand. You yelped into the kiss as he pushed your pants down, your very not-sexy underwear going with them.
“I’m so fucking mad,” he breathed against your neck, you moaning as his hand gave a particularly hard squeeze. “I need to fuck you. Can I? I’m about to explode, baby. So. Fucking. Pissed.” He bit into your neck between the words of his last sentence.
“Yeah, of course,” you said. You definitely hadn’t planned on having sex tonight, but seeing Calum like this was a massive turn on. Your exhaustion was ever-present but you didn’t want to disappoint your boyfriend. Besides, by now you were probably dripping.
“Fuck yes,” Calum groaned, clawing his shirt off and half carrying you to your bedroom. He unceremoniously threw you onto the bed as he shed his constricting skinny jeans, moaning as he wrapped his fist around his swollen cock.
“Hurry,” you begged, taking your shirt off quickly and kicking your socks off. And before you could even blink, Calum was in you, groaning at your tightness and the relief that followed. He gave you a moment and then started thrusting, cursing and moaning loudly with no restraint.
Except, something was off. Every time he thrusted in, a sharp sting went through your core. You didn’t know what was wrong, but it worsened by the second, becoming nearly unbearable.
“Calum…” You dug your nails into his glistening back, trying to get his attention. “Calum?”
“Fuck yes, baby. Harder! Fuck!” You realized too late that by digging your nails into his back, you had triggered his pain kink. He went even harder, completely blinded by lust, eyes clenched shut not noticing your tears.
You started to panic. It hurt so badly, and it had never felt like that before. You and Calum had never bothered with a safeword, and you now regretted it. Sex was always a safe haven, no matter what. Usually, it was so gentle and loving that Calum would be attentive, and the rough sex was never painful like this.
For some reason, you couldn’t say stop. Obviously, it should have been there, but when you stuttered out Calum’s name again and he just moaned louder and thrusted deeper, you weren’t sure such a mundane word would work. You needed something weird that would completely break the mood and snap him out of it.
He gave one particularly hard thrust, and finally your panic washed over you as you started sputtering every random word that came to mind that would have maybe been a safeword, had you been smart enough.
“Puppies! P-Pineapple! Enchiladas! Purple!” You cried. Calum immediately stopped, eyes snapping open. At your anguish, he panicked and pulled out far too quickly, causing a sharp yelp to escape your raw throat.
“Oh my god, fuck, shit, I’m sorry are you alright? I’m so sorry… I…” Calum looked at you with wide eyes from the other side of the bed, not wanting to touch you more. He turned the bright lights on and gasped at the marks he had left on your body; bruises on your hips and bright purple marks raining down your neck all the way to your breasts. The pain seemed to lessen but you felt more sore than ever.
“Y/N?” Calum asked timidly, breaking through your hazy mind as his fingers feathered across your cheek. “I’m so sorry.”
“It’s…it’s okay,” you finally murmured, pulling the blanket up, not wanting to be naked anymore. You whimpered as you rolled onto your side, your back to him.
“Y/N?” Calum spoke again after a moment, voice even smaller. “What…what happened?”
You shrugged lightly, shivering and trying to clear your mind and calm your heart rate. “I dunno,” you sniffled. “It just hurt. Really badly.”
“Like… down there?” Calum asked softly, trying to get some form of clarification. His boner had basically disappeared, going down when he saw you in pain.
“Yeah.” You wiped your eyes. “It felt like I was bring stabbed or ripped in half or something.”
“Oh,” Calum said, looking like he wanted to crawl into a hole and die. He reached for his boxers, slipping them up his legs. “Do you, um, it’s my fault, right? I don’t think I gave you enough time to adjust or enough foreplay.” His voice cracked as you met his eyes. “I was so fucking mad and I took it out on you and…and… I’mso sorry. Jesus, fuck, do you think you should go to the hospital? I can carry you to the car and everything-”
He was already halfway across the room grabbing his keys when you stopped him. “Cal, seriously, I’m alright,” you consoled. “I already feel better. I don’t know what happened. Just didn’t feel right.”
His face flickered with apprehension before he set his keys down again, slowly making his way to you and sitting down.
“I’m really sorry,” he muttered, not really meeting your eyes. “I should have prepped you more. Or at least noticed you weren’t enjoying it. You were fucking crying and here I was with my eyes shut and I didn’t even notice anything wrong until you fucking screamed enchiladas like we were at fucking Taco Bell-”
“Calum!” He quieted as you sat up on your elbows, scooting over. “Just shut up and hold me, okay? That’s all I want right now. I’m cold and sore and all I really want is to go to sleep and pretend that this didn’t happen and wake up to chocolate chip pancakes and a warm bath. So get your ass under this duvet and cuddle me.”
For once, he didn’t have a sassy remark. He slipped under the covers and wrapped his arms around you as you laid your head on his chest, running your fingers up and down and tracing his tattoos. After several moments, he shut the light, once again only illuminating the two of you with the moonlight from the open window. His hand dropped to your lower back and rubbed slow circles, moving to lightly massage your bruised hips as he kissed the top of your head.
“That’s our safeword from now on, okay?” You were half asleep when his deep voice jolted you awake.
“Enchiladas.” You chuckled softly, still not really sure where that had came from.
“It literally completely took me by surprise and made me snap out of it. It’s weird enough where I think it’s a really good safeword. Do you think that’s okay?”
“Yeah,” you agreed. “Maybe we’ll keep the rough sex to a minimum for the time being though.”
“We literally don’t ever have to do it again,” Calum said. “That was terrifying. I never want this to happen again.”
“It’s okay.” You pressed a kiss to his dark skin. “It’s was an accident and a stupid mistake on both our parts. We know better now. We don’t need to stop altogether, we just need to be careful.”
“I just don’t wanna hurt you again,” he mumbled.
“You won’t,” you assured him. “I’ll just start yelling every Taco Bell word I can think of. Enchiladas, quasadillas, fajitas, I’ll just name them all.”
“Don’t forget guacamole,” Calum mumbled into your hair, holding you tighter. “Bitches love guacamole.”
If you want me to do one for the other boys, please request! I’d be happy to!
Imagine going to festivals with calum and you would dress up in like some cool outfit thats a bit exposing but you would have glitter and sparkles all over you and your hair in some cool braids or something and cal would still stay super chill but would paint his nails black and maybe cut his hair and you would both be running around to different stages and dancing around and laughing and of course you would have a bunch of other friends there as well maybe 5sos was there too and their girlfriends and you would all be dancing together and then cal takes you somewhere and then he starts dancing with you privately and hes telling you how amazing you are and stuff and worshipping you and your cheeks get heated and then someone from the group comes and your both like shiiiitttt so you go back to doing all that festival stuff but in your head you know tonight at home is gonna be wild.
You’d been in a sour mood all day and it was only getting worse as the afternoon dragged on. Especially because Ashton had the boys over, which at any other time wouldn’t have worried you in the slightest. You loved them all immensely but hearing their loud laughing from the other room was grating on your nerves. You’d not slept well at all lately and the bigger baby Irwin got the less comfortable you seemed to be, which in turn made you even crankier.
Kneading your temples with your fingers you sighed, feeling awful for wishing that all of them would just leave for a little while, Ashton included. All you wanted to do was sleep, catch up on all the hours you’d been missing lately. Ash had suggested you go and have a lie down and the idea had seemed wonderful before you realized you could still hear them all even though they were down the other end of the hallway. With a frustrated groan you rolled over, slipping off the edge of the bed, making your way to the door. If they weren’t going to be quiet on their own then you were going to make them.
“Hey babe,” Ash greeted as you walked into the living room. “Can all of you please just shut up!” You seethed, glaring at each of the boys individually. “I’m trying to get some sleep and all I can hear is you guys yapping on out here, if you can’t use your inside voices then all of you can leave.” They all looked at you with wide eyes, unsure on how to reply to a statement like that. None of them had ever seen you so angry.
You saw Ashton stand up just before you turned around to head back to the bedroom, shooting his friends an apologetic look before heading after you. When he came into the bedroom you were sitting on the side of the bed, frowning up at him. “You don’t need to tell me I’m acting like a bitch Ash,” You stated, feeling your eyes well up with tears. “Okay? Because I already know it. I’m just so damn tired and I can’t get comfortable.” “You aren’t acting like a bitch, the boys know you don’t really mean it.”
He came over and helped you lie back on the bed, sliding his pillow in under your belly to help support the weight of baby Irwin. You smiled up at him gratefully as he kissed the top of your head. “Try and get some sleep alright? We’ll make sure we’re quieter.” “Thanks Ash, tell the boys I’m sorry okay?” “I will.”
You felt your eyes water as you watched the tv screen, the dramatic scene playing causing your bottom lip to wobble as you fought against the tears trying to escape. You were sitting in the back of the bus with all the boys and the last thing you wanted was for them to see you crying over someone dying in a movie. You’d never live that one down.
Luke turned to look at you when he heard you sniffle, his arm going around your shoulders so he could tuck you in against his body. A small chuckle left his lips and you huffed, wiping furiously at the tears rolling down over your cheeks. “Shut up.” “I’m sorry,” He smiled, kissing the top of your head. “But it’s an action movie babe, it isn’t meant to be sad.” “So?” You muttered, feeling silly for crying over a movie. “He died Lu!”
Calum, who was sitting on your other side laughed a little at your outburst and that only made you cry harder. Logically you knew that they weren’t laughing at you but your baby muddled mind instantly took it the wrong way. You buried your face against Luke’s chest as you cried, Michael pausing the movie to make sure you were alright.
The good thing about your mood swings at least was that all of the other boys had gone through the same thing, whatever you threw at them they were prepared for it.
After a couple of minutes you pulled back from your husband, wiping at your eyes with an apologetic smile on your face. “I’m sorry,” You whispered, cheeks blazing with embarrassment. “It’s okay y/n,” Ashton replied, leaning over to pat your knee. “You don’t need to be sorry.” “Baby Hemmings is turning me into such a pansy.” At that all the boys laughed, the mood in the bus instantly lightening. Once you’d stopped sniffling and they all made sure you weren’t about to burst into tears again the movie was unpaused. God, you really hated pregnancy hormones.
You gasped as you felt yourself get yanked forward along the bike path, the tight hold you had on your puppy’s leash doing nothing to contain the excitement of the chocolate Labrador. It was the first nice day out of a week of rain and all she wanted to do was play.
“Sophie, heel!” She didn’t listen as she continued to pull you along, her tongue flopping out of the side of her mouth with the exertion. You sighed, deciding that at least if she kept this pace up she’d tire herself out faster.
Your runners slapped against the concrete as you walked with her, her tail wagging enthusiastically at anyone that looked at her. She was an attention seeker, under the impression that anyone that walked past her would love her; of course, most of the time that was true. She was as friendly as she was big.
Up ahead you could hear shouting and laughing, a group of boys running around on the small patch of grass with a soccer ball. You held Sophie’s leash a little tighter but it was no use, she was gone, sprinting straight towards them. The leash was pulled from your hand and you almost fell straight on your knees. “Sophie!” You called. “Dammit.” She was barreling straight towards the ball and the boy that currently had said ball between his legs.
Your eyes widened as you watched her bowl him over, running circles around him as soon as he was on the ground. You picked up your pace, grabbing Sophie’s collar the minute you reached them. “I’m so sorry,” You sputtered, trying to catch your breath. “She’s full of pent up energy from the rain keeping her home and she’s a lot stronger than she looks, I’m really sorry. Are you hurt?” The guy grabbed your offered hand to help himself up, one of his hands moving back through his dark hair as he smiled at you. “It’s fine,” He said, tone light and friendly. “She just wanted to play that’s all.” He bent himself back down to rub behind Sophie’s ears, laughing when she rolled herself onto her back. “You could say that again,” You huffed. “I wouldn’t worry about it too much,” The guy continued, paying close attention to his new friend. “Luke and Ash needed all the help they could get.” You heard a chorus of offended ‘hey’s’ coming from the boys that were obviously his friends. “I’m Calum.”
You smiled at him. “Y/n,” You replied, tucking a piece of hair behind your ear. “And this is Sophie.” “Well, it’s really nice to meet you both.”