#holster customization

[historyofguns]

In the article "Ultimate Do-All Holster? TACRIG FLEX Review" by Andy Grossman, the TACRIG FLEX holster is reviewed for its innovative design and versatility. The review highlights how it addresses the common issue of needing multiple holsters for different guns by offering a single system that can accommodate various firearms and mounting configurations, including IWB, OWB, and off-body locations. Grossman was impressed by the TACRIG system's use of durable Boltaron material and its efficient connector systems, allowing seamless transition and secure attachment to different mounts. The ability to switch between different guns and configurations without removing them from the holster shell is emphasized as its standout feature. The review concludes that the TACRIG FLEX system may be the ultimate solution for those looking for a versatile and reliable holster system.

[bunniisms]

@tex-treasure-chamber

“Do not unsheath me without reason. Do not wield me without valor.”

inscription on the sword of a Giovanni della Bande Nere statue on the facade of the Uffizi Gallery, Florence, Italy.

[deathdealertactical]

Understanding MOLLE Systems: How to Customize Your Gear Efficiently

Modular Lightweight Load-carrying Equipment (MOLLE) is a tactical gear system that enables users to customize their equipment setup efficiently. Originally developed for military use, MOLLE has gained popularity among outdoor enthusiasts, emergency responders, and everyday carry (EDC) users due to its versatility and practicality. At Death Dealer Tactical, we provide MOLLE-compatible gear…

[confines]

i was so disappointed to see the guy and he was like aw man it must've been somethin nice and i said yeah 😭 it is. oh well! have a good one. 😭

[defensivelucidity]

[theroguebanshee]

The Falco Roto Shoulder Holster is an amazing new take on a old design

The horizontal and vertical shoulder holsters have their distinct advantages and disadvantages. But, the Falco Roto shoulder holster combines the advantages and mitigates the disadvantages. Could this be the perfect match between craftsmanship and usefulness? #holster #leatherholster #shoulderholster @TheRogueBanshee @FalcoHolsters *** You can support our work by *** ♦ Shop our Amazon Store:…

[bananacockroach]

So butch I swing too hard into looking like a cis man and the far right conservatives in this shitty town think I’m the perfect person to complain about woke vegan products and the prices that their father who art on earth Trump will fix eventually and how women aren’t as strong as men and that is why they should t earn as much

[mauricesharp]

The Importance of Retention in Custom Concealment Holsters

Retention is a critical factor in any holster, and custom concealment holster excel in providing secure firearm retention. Proper retention prevents accidental drops and ensures your firearm is readily accessible when you need it. Let's explore why retention matters and how custom holsters provide superior security. 

Understanding Retention Levels 

Holsters come with different retention levels, designed to suit various needs: 

Level I: Basic retention, usually with friction or a simple strap. 

Level II: Adds an additional locking mechanism for increased security. 

Level III: Often used by law enforcement, includes multiple retention devices. 

Custom Holsters vs. Generic Options 

Precision Fit: Custom gun holsters are molded specifically to your firearm, providing natural retention without the need for extra devices. 

Adjustability: Many custom concealment holsters offer adjustable retention screws, allowing you to set the perfect level of security. 

Trigger Guard Protection: Custom designs ensure the trigger is fully covered, reducing the risk of accidental discharge. 

Why Retention Matters for Concealed Carry 

In high-stress situations, a loose or poorly fitted holster can lead to dangerous mishandling. Custom retention ensures: 

Safety: Keeps the firearm secure even during vigorous movement. 

Accessibility: Proper retention allows for a smooth, consistent draw. 

Conclusion 

Retention is a vital aspect of any holster, and custom concealment holsters provide superior security and peace of mind. With a custom gun holster, you can carry confidently, knowing your firearm is secure and ready when you need it. 

[historyofguns]

The article titled "Mitch Rosen Extraordinary Gunleather," published by The Armory Life and written by Mike Humphries, discusses the premium gun holsters crafted by Mitch Rosen. Known for their exceptional quality and traditional craftsmanship, the gunleather is one of the most respected in the industry. Mitch Rosen's products, particularly leather holsters, are renowned for their durability, aesthetics, and functionality. The article shares Humphries' personal experience with acquiring a Mitch Rosen holster for his Springfield Armory 1911 pistol, emphasizing the attention to detail and the superior fit and finish of the leather gear. It highlights Rosen's commitment to using the highest quality materials and the personalized aspects of the brand, including options for luxury leathers. Humphries' testimony reveals a satisfied experience, reinforcing Mitch Rosen's reputation for offering holsters that provide extraordinary fit, finish, and function, without gimmicks.

[craftholsters]

Kimber Custom II Holster - Your ultimate carry solution

Discovering Kimber Custom II Holsters

The Kimber Custom II is esteemed for its precision and timeless 1911 design. Renowned for its accuracy and durability, this model is a favorite among both enthusiasts and professionals. For those seeking optimal carry solutions, pairing it with a custom Kimber Custom II holster is a game-changer.

Exploring the Variety of Kimber Custom II Holsters

Choosing the right holster for your Kimber Custom II is crucial for security and ease of access. From shoulder holsters to kydex and leather options, there's a diverse range available to suit every preference and lifestyle. Whether you opt for an IWB or OWB holster, each offers secure and comfortable carry, ensuring your Kimber Custom II is always within reach. To learn more about Kimber Custom II holsters and to discover the best options available in the market, visit Craft Holsters' holsters for Kimber Custom II section.

[bi-writes]

idk just thinking about seeing your lieutenant for the first time, this big giant dog of a man, and thinking to yourself, "hmmm yeah, i'm gonna make that thing mine." (18+)

like. i'm thinking about seeing him walk into the room for the first time. fresh off an op, still in all his gear. he's angry cause he's been awake off and on for 40 hours at this point, and he sinks down into a chair in the mess hall, and your eyes bug cause the chair fucking bends with his weight.

and you're just like "omg omg omg holy shit" cause this fucking brute is just huge and beefy, and you had no idea this was your type until you watched his hand curl around a cup and make it look miniature. and you're wondering like "fuck i bet those holsters are custom made" cause you don't think you've ever seen them stretch that far around someone's thigh.

ughghghghgh, and he's dumb as shit, too, or maybe he's just fucking blind. you give him every hint in the book, every indication of how you feel other than pasting a giant neon sign on your forehead that says "fuck me."

you wear the tightest cargo pants you can get. you let the buttons on your shirts go low whenever he's near. you make excuses to see him late, delivering him paperwork in the middle of the night, meeting him out for a smoke (and he's never seen you smoke anything), shuffling your way in front of him in line so you can bump into him and graze your ass against his front. he even catches you this way--even curls his hand around your waist and steadies you before letting you go impatiently.

fuck, bending over in front of him, the obnoxious giggling, the excuses to dangle your tits in his face. you want this man underneath you, on top of you, tangled around you and suffocating you with those enormous arms, and he barely side-glances at you whenever you're in his vicinity, and it's infuriating.

what do you have to do to reel this thing in? how many bones do you have to give him?

how many times do i have to flash my bra at you for you to fuck me over your desk?!

you can't eat another cherry in front of him. you can't drop more sauce onto your cleavage. you cannot come out of the showers in just a towel in front of him anymore because you're going to lose your fucking mind--

you even made out with his beloved little sergeant, his favorite little know-it-all that can't stop blowing shit up. that blue-eyed, insufferable, yapper of a scot that kisses all wet, with teeth, who pants like a puppy when he asks if he can 'ave a taste of y'r bonnie cunt, please, please, please--

and you say yes, because maybe he'll finally fucking shut up if you drown him between your thighs and never let him come up for air.

face down, ass up, cargos around your ankles, hips pushing past against that puppy's stubble as he devours you on his knees. his big hands spread your ass for him, and his thumbs flick over your folds as he opens you up, a cackle leaving him before he opens his mouth wide and kisses your pussy all sloppy and uncoordinated.

when the door swings open and hits the wall with a bang, the puppy tries to leave. he tries to move, but you reach back and grip his mohawk, scowling as you shove his face back where it belongs as your lieutenant stands at the door and heaves with anger.

"uh uh," you snap, and your sergeant on his knees whines, his blue eyes a little foggy and wet as he blinks up at you. but he complies, his tongue slurping, and you flutter your lashes at your lieutenant as you keep johnny muzzled in your cunt. "sorry, lieutenant. is this your office? must've read the sign wrong."

you reel from the contact. a big hand grips you by the hair, slamming you down against his desk, and you choke as you try and gasp for air. like a good boy, johnny settles where he is, shoving his tongue down your hole and moaning low when he realizes you're dripping down his chin now that his lieutenant has you.

"y'think this is funny, eh?" ghost mutters in your ear. "y'think i don't know wot y'r doin'? think i 'aven't caught on, think i 'aven't noticed wot a fuckin' insatiable bloody pain in my arse you've been ever since y'got 'ere?!"

you whimper, relaxing against the desk, and ghost tugs at your hair again, shaking his head.

"oi! y'don't get to be stupid just because y'r gettin' y'r cunny played with," ghost snaps. "y'r a right headache."

you laugh, getting up to your elbows, your eyes rolling to the back of your head as ghost scruffs johnny by the base of his mohawk and cups your pussy with one big hand. you gasp, leaning your head back, because finally, yes, it's all i want, please, please, please--

"'f you wanted to be my pet so bad," ghost murmurs, fitting himself behind you, leaning over your shoulder as he spits into your ear, "all ya had to do was fuckin' ask, swee'eart."

when your eyes open, ghost hums, clicking his tongue under the mask.

"use y'r words," he growls. "be a good girl, and say wot it is y'want."

"want you," you whine, and he sighs deeply, closing his eyes, and you drown out the sounds of johnny sputtering at your feet as ghost bends you at the hip a little more, arching your back.

"mmm...tha'sit. was tha' so hard?"

[roberthunter789]

What to Look for in Your Next Custom Leather Rifle Sling

Purchasing the best custom leather rifle sling is more than just acquiring an accessory; it's about investing in comfort, functionality, and style. Here we'll explore the key factors to consider when selecting the perfect custom leather rifle sling, ensuring your choice aligns with your preferences and enhances your overall shooting experience.

Material Quality:

The durability of your custom leather rifle sling begins with the quality of the material. Delve into the different types of leather available and their characteristics. Whether it's full-grain, top-grain, or other variations, understanding the material will ensure you choose a sling that stands the test of time.

Design and Craftsmanship:

A custom sling is an opportunity to express your individual style. Explore the craftsmanship of the leatherwork. Does the design align with your taste? Are the edges and stitching well-finished? Examining these aspects ensures not only a functional sling but also one that adds a touch of sophistication to your firearm.

Adjustability for Comfort:

Comfort is paramount, and an adjustable sling allows you to achieve the perfect fit for your body and shooting style. Explore the range of adjustability the sling offers, considering factors such as length, width, and padding. A well-fitted sling contributes to a more enjoyable and precise shooting experience.

Attachment Options:

Consider how the sling attaches to your rifle. Swivels, quick-detach systems, or other attachment methods can impact ease of use and flexibility in different shooting scenarios. Assess the attachment options to ensure compatibility with your firearm and personal preferences.

Functionality and Features:

Evaluate additional features that enhance the sling's functionality. Padded sections for shoulder comfort, integrated cartridge holders, or quick-adjust straps can elevate the usability of your custom leather rifle sling. Identify features that align with your specific needs and shooting style.

Brand Reputation:

Research the reputation of the company’s offering the best custom leather rifle slings. Customer reviews, testimonials, and the brand's history can provide insights into the quality and satisfaction of previous buyers. Trusting a reputable company ensures you receive a sling that meets or exceeds your expectations.

In conclusion, the selection of best custom leather rifle slings require careful consideration of multiple factors. By assessing material quality, design, adjustability, attachment options, functionality, and brand reputation, you can make an informed choice that not only complements your firearm but also enhances your overall shooting experience.

Experience the pinnacle of craftsmanship with our best-in-class custom leather rifle slings and holster rigs. Elevate your shooting prowess with meticulously designed and adjustable rifle slings, ensuring both comfort and durability. Carry your firearm in style and convenience with our custom leather holster rigs, catering to various models with precision. Trust Levergun Leather Works for top-tier, functional, and aesthetically pleasing firearm accessories.

[machveil]

just something to consider

König and Ghost needing custom thigh holsters because standard ones don’t fit them

the original one König was issued couldn’t adjust to fit him. he tried his hardest to squeeze into the standard issue one, but it started cutting off his circulation. König eventually had to request a custom one - beet red behind his mask as the person he was talking to raised an eyebrow

Ghost originally fit the standard issued one when he first joined, but eventually it gets harder for him to fit into it. one day he just can’t get the damned thing up past his lower thigh and has to get a new one because he bulked up too much - even now, his current holster is snug

[bochowssinner]

🪽 BO CHOW HEADCANONS.

warnings: none i think.

a/n: my first real post. i frequently update my posts until i'm satisfied with the aesthetic. part two?

so gentle with you. he'll talk crazy to anyone else but with you he's very careful about what he says. especially when you're upset; the last thing he wants to do is aggravate you even more.

you often work in his grocery store, usually at the register. but he's keeping an eye on you at all times in case a customer tries to be snappy or flirtatious. bo doesn't mind other people admiring your lovely face, but they should keep their hands and words to themselves for their own good.

loves it when you lather yourself in cocoa butter lotion and hug him because the smell sticks to his clothes for a while, ensuring that he always has a piece of you with him.

chronic ass slapper, even in public. he just can't help himself.

you sitting on his lap is his absolute favorite thing ever.

calls you a variety of nicknames. chocolate kiss, hot chocolate, ma'am, miss, etc. i think that's so cute.

loves to spoil you. he got a few extra tips? he's taking you to the juke joint to get some drinks and dance. or he'll buy you those pretty shoes you've been eyeing on display in that one pretty boutique. he enjoys seeing his woman dressed up; it makes him feral.

acts of service and affirmations. will take off your heels after a long day, put your hair up, and bathe you in the tub, all while telling you how much he adores you. you literally suffocate his brain; when he awakens, the first thing he thinks about is you. and when he falls asleep, you are the last thing on his mind. he even dreams about you frequently.

he only eats what you cook; he will never eat another woman's food. especially not spaghetti. (iykyk.)

given that it's the 1930s, if you face discrimination because you're a mixed race couple, bo will defend you fiercely. he carries that pistol in his holster for a reason. he always tells you that love has no racial boundaries, which it doesn't.

[i2rizz]

Did I mention I'm wildly in love with this deranged little bitch? Don't even ask where this idea came from-my brain's basically a cursed fanfic generator fueled by chaos, thirst, and questionable zero impulse control

Locked & Loaded

The alley was slick with demon blood—everywhere, sticky, and steaming where it hit the pavement. The stink of it clung to the night air, thick and metallic, crawling into your lungs even through the adrenaline.

Dante wiped his blade on his coat, standing over the remainings of what had once been a gangly, hissing demon.

"Ugly bastard" he muttered, nudging the corpse with the toe of his boot. "That’s the last time I take a bounty that pays in IOUs and moldy pizza"

You scoffed, stepping over a pile of broken crates. "You weren’t complaining about the pizza when you ate half of it"

"Low standards. Occupational hazard"

You shot him a look over your shoulder as you sheathed your own blade. The two of you made quite the pair—blood-splattered, sweaty, and absolutely unbothered. Dante had his usual swagger, that half-cocked grin that never quite left his face, and you? You were the calm to his chaos. Cool hands, sharp eyes, and a pistol always ready—until tonight.

Because, as fate would have it, both your guns had hit the ground mid-battle. His were kicked across the alley; yours had slid under a rusted dumpster in the middle of dodging a particularly aggressive hellspawn.

You figured you had enough time to grab them—until the second wave hit.

The growl echoed before you saw it. Low. Guttural. Disgusting.

Dante turned just as the wall behind you shattered, bricks flying. Something huge and snarling lunged out from the smoke, claws like meat cleavers and a mouth full of jagged teeth that glistened in the moonlight.

You both dove—instinct, perfect synchronization—but you hit the ground hard, knees scraping.

"Shit—Dante, your guns—"

"Gone" he grunted, rolling to his feet. "Yours?"

You looked under the dumpster. No glint. No chance. "Buried. We’ve got nothing"

The demon roared, charging.

Dante grimaced. "Alright. We’re doing this old-school"

But you held up a hand. Calm. Focused. And very much not panicking.

"Nah, twin" you said smoothly, voice cool as the metal you were about to introduce to the situation. "I got this"

Dante blinked. "Babe, unless you’re hiding a shotgun in your boots, I don’t think—"

You reached into your jacket, tugging at the zipper halfway… then lower.

He paused.

"Wait—are you—?"

And with one confident pull, you drew a sleek, silver pistol from right between your chest—tight holster, custom fit, hidden in plain sight. You cocked it without missing a beat, the click loud and sweet in the tense air.

Dante stared.

"Holy hell," he muttered, visibly stunned. "Is that where you keep it this whole time?"

You smirked, stepping forward with a roll of your shoulder. "Emergency backup, babe. You think I wear this top for style?"

The demon charged again. You raised the pistol.

Bang. Bang. Bang.

Three shots. Each one precise. The demon reeled back, screeching in pain as black ichor burst from its eye socket and shoulder.

Dante watched you—barely breathing, maybe because you looked like a literal fever dream. Bloody, glowing in the alley light, sweat clinging to your collarbone, your weapon still hot in your hands, smoke curling from the barrel.

He let out a low whistle. "You just became the hottest person I’ve ever seen"

You didn’t look at him—too focused, too in the zone. "Flirt later. Cover me"

“God, I love you” he muttered, dazed, as he grabbed a crowbar from the ground and dove in with you.

It was fast, brutal. You moved in tandem—one fluid, lethal machine. The demon never stood a chance.

By the time it crumpled into a pile of twitching limbs, you were breathing heavy, hands on your knees. Dante came up behind you, slow, still catching his breath.

He wrapped his arms around your waist, forehead dropping to your shoulder.

"I’m not even mad about losing my guns," he murmured. "That was the hottest damn thing I’ve ever seen. I mean, between the boobs? That’s genius"

You laughed, low and smug. "Told you I had it handled"

He nuzzled your neck, shameless. "You have me handled"

You turned in his arms, lifting the still-warm pistol and tucking it back into its secret holster. His eyes followed the motion like a man hypnotized.

"Stop staring"

"Can’t," he said. "My girl pulls a piece from her tits and kills a demon with three shots to the face. What do you expect me to do, not get turned on?"

You kissed him then—sweaty, blood-spattered, and giggling. He tasted like adrenaline and praise and something wild.

"You’re shameless" you whispered.

"And so hard it's concerning" he said against your mouth. "Now let’s go home. I wanna see what else you’ve been hiding under that top"

[just-aake]

Endearing Entanglements

Pairing: Natasha Romanoff x fem!reader

Summary: You give Natasha a visit in Norway and remind her she has more friends to call on for help.

Warnings: fluff, implied sexual themes

Words: 1300

Pulling up to the safehouse, Natasha’s eyes narrow as she catches a faint trail of smoke curling from the trailer’s ventilation. 

Instinct kicking in, she turns off the engine and quickly reaches for the gun stashed in the glove compartment.

She’s still on the run, and Rick isn’t due to check in for another week, which means the sign of someone else being here is a red flag she can’t ignore.

Sliding out of the car, Natasha moves silently. As she approaches the door, her grip on the weapon tightens as she takes a steadying breath. 

With a practiced calm, she swings open the door, stepping inside swiftly with her gun raised. Her eyes dart across the room, scanning for any immediate threats. 

But instead of chaos or an ambush, she’s met with the quiet, domestic sound of sizzling food.

Your back is to her, the scent of spices mingling in the air as you casually tend to whatever is cooking on the stove. 

You don’t even flinch at her dramatic entrance. 

“You should go freshen up, love. Dinner will be ready in ten,” you say, your tone easy and unbothered, not even sparing a glance in her direction, as though she hadn’t just stormed in with a weapon aimed at your head.

Natasha freezes, her suspicion warring with confusion. She sweeps her gaze around the small trailer once more, confirming that you’re alone, before finally lowering her gun with a disbelieving huff. 

Her tension melts into exasperation as she holsters her weapon and crosses her arms. 

“What are you doing here?” she demands.

You chuckle softly, finally turning to face her. The spatula in your hand gestures toward the small, cluttered living space.

“I came by to drop off your package,” you reply, your tone light but with a teasing edge.

Natasha’s eyes flick to the black case sitting on the rickety table. She knows without opening it what’s inside—customized weapons and gadgets uniquely gathered and prepared for her. 

Like you’ve done countless times before for her.

“I didn’t order anything,” she says skeptically.

“Hmm, you’re right. You didn’t,” you say with an exaggerated nod. “You called Mason instead. And he got you this…quaint little setup.”

The lights flicker as if on cue, emphasizing your skepticism about the condition of the safe house. 

Natasha catches the faint jealous pout in your tone and sighs, moving closer until she’s leaning against the counter beside you. 

“It’s nothing personal,” she murmurs, her voice softening. “I just needed something quick and discreet.”

Your lips twitch into a slight smirk as you turn to her. Without warning, you tug her closer, capturing her lips in a kiss. 

You nip at her bottom lip in reprimand before pulling back, your eyes glinting with amusement.

“Love, isn’t that how most of our…entanglements end up?” 

Natasha huffs a soft laugh, her smirk matching yours. Her hands find your waist, pulling you in closer. 

“How much longer did you say dinner would take?”

Your grin widens as you turn off the stove, tilting your head closer to hers. 

“All done,” you whisper against her lips.

~~~~~~~ ⧗ ~~~~~~~

Leaning back against the wall of the trailer, Natasha sits on the bed, a now reheated plate of food in her hands. She eats quietly, her mind half on the simple meal you had prepared and half on the intimate moments you and she shared earlier. 

The room is still, save for the occasional flicker of the dim overhead light and the low murmur of your voice.

At the edge of the bed, you handle a phone call that interrupted your dinner with her. 

“No worries, love, I can get it to you by then,” you say smoothly, your voice oozing charm as you multitask, the phone pressed between your ear and shoulder while you pull on your pants.

Natasha’s brow arches slightly at your casual use of the term of endearment. Setting her plate aside, she moves toward you. 

“Have I ever let you down?” you continue your conversation nonchalantly, though, the slight tilt of your head indicates you notice her movement behind you.

Wrapping her arms around your waist from behind, she leans into you, her warmth pressing against your back. Without a word, she begins trailing soft, deliberate kisses along your bare shoulder, her lips lingering just enough to send a message.

For a split second, your voice falters, the smooth flow of your words disrupted. You clear your throat, attempting to maintain composure.

“I—I gotta go,” you murmur into the phone, your tone edged with faint exasperation as Natasha’s kisses continue. “Mmhmm, I’ll call back later with the details.”

You end the call quickly, sliding the phone onto the table before turning to face her. 

Your expression is a blend of amusement and mock disapproval as you take her in. “Really?”

Natasha shrugs innocently, feigning ignorance as she murmurs against your shoulder, “I thought I was ‘love.’”

Your lips curl into a smirk, your brow quirking as you tilt your head to meet her gaze. 

“Oh, are we making certain things between us exclusive now?” you reply, your tone light but carrying a playful challenge.

Natasha huffs a small laugh and rolls her eyes, pointedly ignoring your question as she leans back on her elbows, watching you with a small smile as you finish getting dressed.

After zipping up your jacket, you lean over the bed, running your hand along her bare legs before resting it on her thigh. 

“I do have other clients besides you, you know,” you say, rubbing your hand in small circles before pinching her skin lightly, “Just like how you have other contractors.”

Natasha slaps your hand away with a scoff. 

“Rick’s just a friend,” she says reassuringly.

You hum thoughtfully, your smirk widening. 

“And you’re the only client I ever end up in bed with.”

Her lips curve into a faint smile, unable to hide the flicker of satisfaction at your reassuring words. 

Grinning, you pick up the black case from the table and set it on the bed. 

“So…I guess that means we’ve come to an understanding.”

But Natasha’s smile fades as she pushes the case back toward you. 

“I can’t take that.”

“If it’s about payment, I can give you a discount this time,” you offer, your tone playful. “Considering your…circumstances.”

“It’s not that.” Natasha shakes her head, her gaze dropping to the bed. There’s a moment of hesitation, a rare crack in her usual composure. Finally, she murmurs softly, “I don’t want to drag you into my problems.”

Your expression softens, the teasing edge replaced by something more genuine. You step closer, catching her chin lightly with your fingers, tilting her face up until her eyes meet yours. 

“That’s sweet, love,” you say gently, your voice warm but unwavering. “But unfortunately for you, you’re my favorite client. That means your problems? They matter to me, too.”

Her lips part slightly, a breath catching as the weight of your words settles in. 

You smile, a slow and reassuring curve of your lips, at the sight of the Black Widow so caught off guard by the care laced in your voice and tap her nose playfully in goodbye. 

Before she can respond, you turn on your heel, heading toward the door.

Pausing in the archway, you glance over your shoulder, your silhouette framed by the dim light spilling in from outside.

“Oh, and,” you add, your voice carrying a casual charm that hides just how much you mean it, “whenever you want an upgrade from this charming little safehouse, you know how to contact me.”

A slow smirk tugs at your lips as you lock eyes with her one last time.

“Always looking forward to your call, love.”

And with that, you’re gone, leaving Natasha sitting there, a small, fond smile on her lips.

~~~~~~~ ⧗ ~~~~~~~

a/n: just a little cute fluff before I get back into my series. thank you for reading!

Part 2