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lieutenantbatshit · 3 months ago

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until i found you. (hwang jun-ho x reader)

Summary: You meet Hwang Jun-ho at a prestigious police conference where you're invited as a guest speaker. The moment you lock eyes from across the room, there's a spark. Throughout the conference, you catch each other's gaze again and again, drawn into a silent exchange neither of you fully understands yet.

A/N: Jun-ho is my current fixation lately. In-ho still holds a special place in my delulu heart but Jun-ho is becoming my bias wrecker 😩 why are the Hwang brothers so damn fine

The hum of polite chatter filled the auditorium as the sea of uniforms, sharp suits, and the occasional flash of polished badges reflected under the stage lights. You stood at the front of the hall, just a little off-center from the podium, your presentation slides illuminating behind you with quiet authority.

The conference was about a cross-border event — a joint police training and strategy summit between Korea and other Southeast Asian nations. You’ve been invited as a guest speaker, someone with deep experience in cross-cultural criminal justice cooperation. Your name was announced earlier, your credentials were read aloud to a roomful of attentive faces.

But one face — one set of eyes — kept pulling your focus.

He sat in the third row from the front, his uniform neat, his posture perfect. There was something in the way his gaze lingered. It was steady and analytical, but soft at the edges. Every time your eyes flicked across the crowd, they locked with his. Not in a challenging way, but like he was trying to memorize you.

You finished your speech to a round of professional applause, and as the moderator wraps up with closing remarks, people began to rise, gather their folders, and shift into conversation clusters. You slipped your notes back into your bag when you heard soft footsteps approach you.

“Excuse me,” a voice said. You glanced up to see him, and there he was, the man you kept locking eyes with.

He offered you a modest smile, the kind that’s all in the eyes, and gave a slight bow before speaking. “I wanted to thank you for your talk. It was… different. In a good way.”

You smiled back. “Different is better than boring, right?”

He chuckled, low and slightly bashful. “Definitely.”

There was a beat of silence before you tilted your head a little and asked, “I didn’t catch your name earlier…?

“Oh, right,” he said quickly, his eyes widening like he couldn’t believe he forgot. “Sorry. I’m Jun-ho. Hwang Jun-ho.”

“Nice to meet you, Jun-ho,” you offered your hand as he shook it gently. It felt formal, but at the same time, something was lingering in the gesture. He scratched the back of his neck and then held something out in both hands. “I… thought you might like this. It’s not much.”

You glanced down and saw it — a hanji bookmark. It was delicately crafted, with a design of a single magnolia blossom inked in soft watercolor tones. At the bottom, there’s a tiny Korean proverb written in Hangul: 시작이반이다 — “Starting is half the task.”

“It’s handmade,” Jun-ho said quickly. “By my mom, actually. She likes to craft. I carry a few when I travel.”

You ran your fingers gently along the textured paper, feeling your heart catch a little. You couldn’t help but smile. “This is beautiful. Thank you.”

He shrugged with a small grin, as if he was glad you liked it but unsure how to say it out loud. Then, his hand slipped into his pocket, pulling out his phone.

“If it’s okay… could I get your Instagram? Or whatever you use,” he added, with the faintest blush on his cheeks. “For professional networking, of course.”

You stifled a smile as you typed in your username on his phone. He sent a message immediately, just a wave emoji, and you both shared a small, private laugh before another officer called his name from across the room.

“Duty calls,” he said, giving you a two-finger salute. You gave him one back as he headed off.

You left the venue a little later, the bookmark tucked carefully between your planner. The sun dipped low over the skyline as your ride dropped you at the hotel entrance. You found yourself smiling throughout the ride, as you couldn’t help but think of Jun-ho.

As you were about to head inside your hotel, your phone buzzed, which made you blush even more. You read the text, pressing your lips as you felt yourself giggle internally.

“I would love to have lunch with you tomorrow if you’re still here.”

You stared at the screen for a beat, your heart hammering. You weren’t sure what tomorrow would bring, but tonight?

Tonight felt like the start of something quietly extraordinary.

——

You arrived five minutes earlier at the quiet little hanok-style cafe tucked into a side street, just a few blocks from your hotel. The sky was hazy with the warmth of the early afternoon, and the scene of roasted barley tea drifted from the open windows. The carved wooden sign above the doorway gave off a warmth that matches the soft glow in your chest.

You were nervous, and you hated that you were nervous. It had been a long time since you went out on a date.

As you stepped inside, the hush of the cafe wrapped around like a well-worn poem. He was already there.

Jun-ho sat at a corner table, near a window with paper screens casting soft golden light over his face. His uniform was replaced by a casual dark button-up, sleeves rolled slightly at the wrists. He looked at his phone, lips slightly pursed, but as if he sensed you, he lifted his head.

And then, he smiled.

It wasn’t wide nor showy. It was quiet, just the barest curve of his lips and his eyes softened, but it hit you harder than you expected.

“You’re early,” you said, trying to sound casual despite the flutter in your chest.

He stood, brushing nonexistent crumbs off the table. “You beat me by a minute. I was just… making sure I had the right place.”

You laughed softly and nodded. “Looks like we’re both terrible at pretending we’re not excited.”

He smiled, then gestured for you to sit. You slid into the seat across from him, suddenly aware of how close the table was. It was close enough to notice how warm his eyes were, and close enough to hear the subtle nervousness in the way he cleared his throat.

“Thank you for meeting me,” he said. “I wasn’t sure if you… I mean, I hoped you would.”

You glanced at him, surprised by the honesty. It made your stomach twist in the best way. “I was hoping you would ask.”

And there it was again — that moment where your eyes locked just a little too long, and you felt like the room became quiet around you.

After placing your orders, you sipped your tea to distract yourself from the wild thump in your chest, but your curiosity won.

“So,” you began, watching him over the rim of your cup. “I’ve been wondering, what made you want to become a police officer?”

Jun-ho leaned back slightly, cradling his cup between his palms. “Ah… that’s a bit of a story,” his gaze dropped for a second, then lifted again. “But mostly, it was my older brother.”

“He was a police officer, too?”

He nodded. “Yeah. Actually, he raised me. He was… everything. You know those people who just get it? He was like that. He’s brave and steady. The kind of person you wanted beside you when the world fell apart.”

“He sounds incredible.”

“He is,” Jun-ho said softly, his fingers still resting on the cup. “I remember watching him graduate from the academy. He looked so proud in his uniform. That’s who I want to be — someone people can trust.”

You watched the way his face shifted between pride and something quieter. “He would be really proud of you,” you said, meaning it more than you expected.

He looked up, and for a second, it was like the words settled into his chest. “Thanks,” he said quietly. “That means more than you think.”

The silence between you wasn’t awkward. It felt warm, like a gentle tide coming in. Your food arrived, and the conversation softened into laughter, into stories. You asked about his life, his favorite childhood memory that included fishing with his brother on a rainy day, his current guilty pleasure with an embarrassing addiction to cheesy Korean crime dramas, and his surprisingly poetic habit of swimming at night to clear his head.

And as you listened, you caught yourself staring. He was kind, thoughtful, a little shy, and so quietly beautiful. You weren’t expecting this — you weren’t expecting him.

When you took the last bite of your food as the sun began to stretch longer across the street outside, you both rose reluctantly.

“I didn’t think today would turn out like this,” you said, feeling your cheeks warm.

“Me neither,” he replied, slipping his phone into his back pocket. “But I’m glad it did.”

You hesitated, unsure if this is where the spell breaks, but then he spoke again.

“Would you… want to walk for a bit? Or do you have to head back?”

You nodded before your heart could second-guess it. “I’ve got time.”

You and Jun-ho walked side by side down a quiet street near the cafe, neither of you quite ready to say goodbye. There was a gentle hush between you as if it was comforting, like a song you didn’t want to end.

Your eyes caught on something neatly lined up beside a storefront, seeing electric scooters for rent down the alley. You stopped walking, much to Jun-ho’s surprise.

You grinned and pointed. “Those. Have you ever ridden one?”

He followed your gaze and blinked. “The scooters? Not… really. Not properly.”

You turned to him with a sudden mischievous glint in your eyes. “Want to?”

He chuckled, his eyebrows raising like he couldn’t believe you were serious, but the corner of his mouth lifted in that smile that’s fast becoming your favorite. “Right now?”

“Unless you’re scared,” you teased.

“I’m not scared,” he said, his eyes narrowing playfully. “You are so going to crash into something.”

Five minutes later, after figuring out the app and securing two scooters, you both rolled shakily into a quiet park trail, laughing like kids on summer break. The wind rushed through your hair, and your laughter echoed under the trees. You glanced sideways to see Jun-ho beside you. He was focused, a little awkward, but grinned like he hadn’t in years.

And in that moment with just you, him, the golden sky, and the light breeze, you felt it.

You weren’t thinking about your career or your hotel room or the thousand things you’ve left unanswered in your life. You thought about the way he shouted “Watch out!” as you nearly veered off the path, how he reached out instinctively to steady your scooter, his hand brushing your arm with a spark that shot down your spine.

Eventually, the path sidened into a quiet overlook facing the river. The sun dipped enough to paint the water in liquid gold. You both slowed to a stop and hopped off, breathless and flushed with laughter.

Jun-ho leaned against his scooter, arms crossed, watching you try to smooth your windblown hair. “That was…” he began, searching for the word.

“Exactly what I needed,” you finished for him, chest still rising with joy.

You stepped forward to stand beside him, eyes on the horizon, and then he did it.

Jun-ho reached out gently and brushed something from your hair, his fingers lingering just long enough to make your breath catch. Then, just as softly, he tucked a loose strand behind your ear. You looked up at him, and he didn’t look away.

The air stilled between you. It wasn’t heavy nor expectant, just full. Full of possibility and something real.

“I’m glad I met you,” he said quietly, like it’s a secret he’s only just realized.

You knew by the way your heart skipped, by the warmth that bloomed across your chest, by the way your body leaned ever so slightly toward him. It was just a crush — it was that quiet kind of love, the kind that sneaks up on you, gentle and whole.

“I’m glad I met you, too,” you whispered.

Jun-ho didn’t try to kiss you, and didn’t rush the moment. Instead, he turned to face the river again, but this time, his hand brushed against yours. His pinky curled around yours in a quiet, wordless gesture of trust.

And you held it there. Just two hearts, and two hands. But one soft, beautiful beginning.

You and Jun-ho stayed like that, side by side, pinkies linked, watching the sky shift from gold to lavender. He didn’t speak for a moment, as if reluctant to break the peace you’ve both fallen into.

Then, in a quiet voice, he spoke. “There’s a gala night tonight as part of the conference. I wasn’t planning to go, but…”

You glanced at him, curiosity tugging at your lips. “But?”

His eyes flicked to yours, then down to your still-linked hands. “But I’d really like to go if you’ll be there.”

Your chest tightened at the simplicity of the question. He wasn’t trying to impress you — he just wanted to share the night with you.

You nudged him with your shoulder. “Is this you asking me on a second date?”

Jun-ho blinked, then laughed under his breath, caught off guard but clearly amused. He shook his head slightly, that smile tugging at his lips again. “Well then,” he said, turning toward you a bit more. “Yes, I’m asking you on our second date.”

You met his gaze, holding it. “Then I’ll be there,” you said. “Second date approved.”

There was a moment where you both just stood there, like something between you had quietly deepened. He cleared his throat. “I’ll pick you up at seven.”

“Looking forward to it,” you replied, meaning every word.

And when you walked back together, a little slower than necessary, the city fading into gold behind you, your heart felt full, as if it already knew.

This night might just become one you’ll never forget.

——

Back in your hotel room, the door clicked shut behind you as you exhaled with a shaky kind of giddiness. You pressed your back to the door for a second, grinning at nothing. Well, actually, at everything. At him.

Jun-ho.

The way he touched your hair, the way he looked at you like you were something rare, the way he asked you to the gala, not with grandeur, but with sincerity.

You crossed the room, heart fluttering as your step toward the bed where your dress hung, pressed and untouched until now. You hadn’t even considered going to the gala before, not until he gave you a reason.

The fabric was a deep, elegant shade, something that catches the light in soft shimmers. As you slipped it on, zipping it up slowly, you couldn’t help but imagine his reaction. The way his eyes might linger just a second too long.

You turned to the mirror and smoothed your hands down the fabric, applying light makeup, brushing your hair with extra care. But more than anything, you felt the flow from inside — the kind that no lipstick or highlighter could match.

The feeling of being wanted. Of being seen.

Not just for what you presented at the conference. Not for your resume.

But for you.

You heard the knock — three soft taps, a pause, and a fourth like a heartbeat. You smoothed your hands down your dreess and opened the door.

Jun-ho stood here, stilling at the sight of you. He work a tailored black suit, shirt collar neat, tie a deep navy, His hair was freshly styled, though a strand already rebels against gravity. His eyes traveled over you slowly, not a in way that objectifies, but like he was seeing something too lovely to name.

“Wow,” he murmured, blinking once. “You look…”

He trailed off, clearly searching for a word that would do you justice.

You smiled softly. “I’ll take a ‘wow’.”

He laughed under his breath, his cheeks tinged pink. “Fair enough.”

The drive to the venue was short, filled with gentle music and even gentler conversation, your hands nearly brushing between you. When you arrived, the ballroom glowed beneath a canopy of chandeliers, each crystal catching the light like raindrops frozen mid-fall.

The crowd inside were elegantly dressed — officers, speakers, professionals from different corners of the conference — but the moment Jun-ho offered you his arm, it was like everything faded into soft blur.

All you saw was him.

You walked in together, and more than a few eyes followed. At the far end, a long, wide table has been prepared for selected guests. Jun-ho led you there, pulling out your chair before sitting beside you. Around you, small talks started, light conversations about caseword, training protocols, someone making a joke about badge polish, but none of it really landed for you, and definitely not for him.

Because you were both leaning subtly toward each other, your knees brushing under the table, and neither of you moved away. Jun-ho murmured something about the chandeliers reminding him of the snowfall near the mountains back home, and you smiled like he was sharing a secret no one else to hear.

At one point, someone two seats down chuckled. “You two look like you’re at a private dinner.”

You glanced up, startled, but Jun-ho scratched the back of his neck sheepishly, lips pressed into a smile.

“We’re just catching up,” he said casually, though the way he looked at you afterward betrayed something deeper.

You met his gaze, and your heart already knew.

The din of the ballroom continues, glasses clinking, music weaving into the air. But for you, time has softened into a slow, golden rhythm. It wasn’t loud nor showy.

A quiet knowing. A feeling that maybe… the space between you and Jun-ho was always meant to be filled.

A fork clinked against a glass somewhere down the table, as someone gave a short toast. Applause followed, then more laughter filled the air.

And then, the band kicked in with that unmistakable brass intro.

“Do you remember… the 21st night of September...”

Your eyes widened, heart leaping with excitement. “Oh my god,” you whispered, turning to Jun-ho with your hands already halfway up in the air. “I love this song.”

He raised an eyebrow, clearly amused. “Of course you do.”

You didn’t give him time to be smug. You stood up quickly and reached for his hand. “Now,” you grinned, tugging him up from his seat. “Dance floor. Let’s go.”

He laughed and let himself be pulled to the center of the room, where a few guests had already started to move. The music filled every corner of the ballroom, infectious and golden, like the soundtrack to a memory that hasn’t been made yet.

You start swaying, playfully off-beat, shaking your arms with abandon just to make him laugh harder. He laughed hard, his eyes crinkled as his dimple peeked, his expression somewhere between “I can’t believe this happening” and “I wouldn’t trade this for anything”.

Then suddenly, he steps in, and he moves.

You froze mid-twirl, eyes wide. “Wait, what? Jun-ho… you can dance?”

He smirked, one eyebrow raised. “Why do you sound so surprised?”

“Because you look like you listen to crime podcasts while folding laundry in your free time,” you said breathlessly.

He chuckled, spinning you once, just enough to make your hair fan out, and pulled you gently back toward him.

“Grew up with an older brother who made me learn every Earth, Wind & Fire song,” he admitted, sliding effortlessly into step beside you. “He said rhythm was essential for any undercover work.”

You laughed, the image of a younger Jun-ho dancing around a tiny apartment flashing in your mind. He caught your hands again, and this time, he led. You both moved in sync, like you’ve done this a hundred times. Like your bodies already knew each other’s stories.

People around you clapped along or cheered, but none of it mattered. Your world has narrowed to his hands on yours, his confident smile, the way he moved with you — not in front of you, not over you, but with you.

The chorus hits as you both sing the words, half-laughing, half-sincere. And it felt like September — warm, golden, and a little nostalgic and electric.

You can’t remember the last time you felt this light, this free, and this alive. And when he twirled you again, his hands strong and sure, you realized that you trusted him.

Not just with your hand, but maybe with your heart.

The final notes of September faded out, laughter and applause echoing as dancers began catching their breath. You and Jun-ho were still in the middle of the dance floor, cheeks flushed, and hearts racing.

“I can’t believe you were holding out on me,” you said between breaths, managing to tease him still.

He grinned, slightly out of breath himself. “I had to save some surprises.”

But before you can answer, the band shifts. The moon changes as soft guitar chords ripple into the air, something gentle, longing, and familiar.

“Georgia… wrap me up in all your…”

Your breath caught. You know this song.

Jun-ho’s eyes softened as he heard it too, and without a word, he stepped forward again. This time he was slower, more intentional. He then offers his hand.

No more playfulness. No more crowd.

Just the two of you.

You slipped your hand into his, and he drew you in. He placed one hand lightly on your waist, the other cradling your hand with a gentleness that makes your chest ache. You rest your free hand on his shoulder, and just like that, the rest of the ballroom disappears.

You swayed together under the golden lights, moving as if the music was written just for the two of you. His eyes didn’t leave yours. There was no teasing now, only a quiet intensity, a kind of silent honesty that only showed up when words fell short.

Your fingers curled slightly against his shoulder.

“I would never fall in love again until I found her…”

Jun-ho’s voice was barely a whisper when he spoke. “I used to wonder if I could ever feel this… light again.”

You tilted your head up at him. “And now?”

His gaze dropped to your lips, then back to your eyes. “Now I don’t want this moment to end.”

Neither do you.

Because in his arms, the world felt still. You’ve never felt so completely seen, so carefully held in someone’s presence. You leaned your forehead against his, and he closed his eyes at the contact, breathing you in like the only thing anchoring him.

When the chorus builds, he draws back just enough to look at you again. You can feel it between you. It was unspoken, but alive in every heartbeat.

You nodded, and that was all he needed

Jun-ho leaned in slowly, giving you every second to change your mind, but you didn’t. You closed the distance the rest of the way, your lips meeting in a kiss that wasn’t rushed nor dramatic.

It was warm, certain, and true.

A kiss that said “I see you,” and a kiss that answered, “Me too.”

When you parted, your hands were still linked, your smiles quiet and glowing. The music faded as the night continued, but something between you had changed.

What started with glances across a conference turned into a story that was only just beginning.

----

|| REQUEST HERE ||

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formosusiniquis · 6 months ago

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a particular kind of girl

Steve Harrington/Tommy Hagan/Carol Perkins WC: 4669 | E | Tags/Themes: Genderfluid!Steve Harrington; Lingerie; Feminine Terminology used for Steve; Smut; Dom!Carol and Steve; Sub!Tommy AO3 a very special thank you to @itcanbepalped for being my smut guidance counselor and helping me get unstuck

Carol was particular.

It was a trait Tommy really liked in her. A trait she shared with the other member of their little trio. So clearly it wasn’t something that bothered him since he’s seeking it out. She keeps her planner filled out, starting at the end of the week and making disappointed little tongue clicks every time someone -- Tommy, it was usually Tommy -- forced her to have to change it. She planned her outfits out every weekend on the phone with Stevie, an activity he’d been party to once and promptly uninvited to. She was an everything in its place kind of girl, and he loved that.

It just made giving her gifts hard.

“No.”

Stevie snorts from the floor, doesn’t even have to look up from the magazine to know it’s funny how mercilessly Tommy just got shut down.

“Babe, what? It’s a gift, I thought you could wear it tonight.”

Carol smiles his favorite smile, small and a little mean. It makes him feel high, but in a sexy way. “I know what you thought was going to happen,” she says, “but I’m not wearing that. The yellow is going to make me look like my fucking liver is failing, the triangle cups are going to make my tits look small, and wearing a thong under my dress is like asking one of your neanderthal friends to flip my skirt.”

She tears it down effortlessly as Stevie hums along with each point from the floor, leaving him a little dizzy. The gift he’d been hoping to unwrap like a sexy present later that night held in his hand still like a kid’s handmade mother’s day gift: a sweet gesture but ultimately not worth the tissue paper it’d been wrapped in.

“Don’t be sad, baby, you just got confused.”

“Confused?” His head feels like it’s a size too big for his body. Like they’ve already started pre-gaming even though they hadn’t cause Mr. and Mrs. Harrington were still in the house, wouldn’t leave to catch their flight for another hour.

“Yeah, Tom, confused,” Stevie chimes in, always happy to pick up the thread of Carol’s teasing if she was the one to start it first.

Carol’s nails are long enough that he can feel them scrape along his arm with the soft pads of her fingers. Goosebumps rise in their wakes, “It’s okay to admit you really bought this for Stevie.”

He tries to deny it, “But Steve’s-”

“A girl sometimes, it’s so hard to predict.”

Stevie was particular too. Never a hair out of place. He… She would always make sure she showed up at any event perfectly pressed and ready. Even if it was a basketball game with the guys, her shoes would be clean, laces white as the tube socks pulled up her calves. She would slip away from him and Carol sometimes in the hall, he always thought she just got tired of watching them make out, but sometimes she would come back with her hair parted different and shiny gloss on her lips. Hard to predict.

“Stevie would look glowy in that sunshine yellow,” Carol husks in his ear. “You’re just a little dense sometimes, aren’t you, baby? But you noticed how pretty Stevie’s looked this week, didn’t you?”

She sits up from the floor, lips glossy and eyes big in a way he can kind of tell now isn’t entirely natural. Maybe that special mascara stuff Carol uses before they can go out for hangover food because she can’t go out to the diner looking hungover.

“You think I’m pretty, Tommy?” Stevie asks.

He thinks he does, thinks he must. Cause he spends a lot of time looking at Stevie, at her hands and her legs and her ass.

“Yeah,” he feels breathless when he answers. Red in the face probably, the way Carol always teases him about getting when he’s hot for it and embarrassed about it.

“And it’ll be really fun,” Carol says, lips every few words as she taunts him, “at the end of the night when you get to see her tits for the first time in this pretty bra you bought her, won’t it? You’ll get to be the first boy in town to see her pretty chest.”

And he’s seen them in the locker room when they were pecs. But this is different, makes him feel nervous, palms sweaty like the first time he and Carol were going to do it.

“I don’t know Carrie, I’m not a slut. I don’t just give it out to anyone,” Stevie says, something bored on her face. A look she normally sends guys like Peterson, not Tommy. She’s supposed to like him.

“We’re different though, aren’t we Stevie,” Carol coos, sticky and fake.

“Yeah, you can see ‘em sure.”

“Little girl on girl like when I sleepover?”

Carol with her pale hand on Stevie’s golden skin. Cupping each other’s tits, Carol's nipples were sensitive, Stevie is so good with her hands, big for a girl’s sure but dextrous. A thumb brushing over the nub even through Carol’s rosy bra -- and he’s an idiot, of course he bought this lingerie for Stevie, he knows that Carol only wears soft pinks that make her skin look dewy and flushed -- it would be enough to leave his girlfriend gasping and begging. Carrie straddling Stevie’s muscled thigh, Stevie rubbing up against Carrie’s hip, the two of them grinding -- scissoring -- against each other. Panting desperately into one another’s mouths the closer they get to release.

Would they let him watch, even if he wasn’t good enough to touch?

“Give Stevie her present, Tommy,” Carol orders.

“Stevie.” He thrusts his hand in her face, feeling less like a kid with his mom and more like one of the losers who always try to give the cheerleaders carnations at Valentine’s.

She smirks, lip pulling up at one corner, brows raised just enough to make clear that the fumbling was noticed. Stevie takes the gift from his hands, lifting herself up from the floor enough to leave lipgloss sticky kiss on his cheek. “Thank you, Tommy,” she murmurs against the side of his face before disappearing into her ensuite to change with a sway of her hips.

“Why don’t you start being good right now,” Carol says, a hand rubbing up and down his thigh. “Why don’t you go downstairs and fix us both a drink. You know what we like.”

Stevie and Carol are particular.

Tommy spends most of the party trailing behind them or running to get something for them.

When he gets it right he gets rewarded. Carol kisses him rough and dirty, tongue slipping into his mouth for a second before she takes her drink. Stevie, more careful by necessity, gropes him; grabs his ass, disguises it as a locker room smack, before coming in close to pass along her thanks.

But he gets it wrong more than he gets it right. And that’s even better.

“Tommy,” Carol says, the tone she’s used with him all night the same one she uses with her dog, talking to him like he’s something sweet but dumb. “I don’t drink keg beer, remember. Go back and get me a Coors from the cooler.”

“Didn’t you watch Miller spike this with that cheap ass vodka from the plastic bottle?” Stevie asks, “I’m not drinking that. There’s still some Absolut in the freezer, splash of that in some orange juice.”

Each insult, each dig as his intelligence and ability sinks him down even further into a high he didn’t even have to pay the Freak for. He’s floating, barely thinking, just something for Stevie and Carrie to make use of.

When he’s done playing fetch, he’s a chair. Carol beckons him closer with a wave of her hand, pushing him down onto the sofa before wiggling down into his lap, worsening and hiding a problem that had been steadily growing with each barb and errand. An ache he could feel but hoped would be taken care of if he just kept being good. It’s just them for the first time since Stevie went to change. She’s across the room, taking John Peters for a ride, pretending like she doesn’t have a pool table in her own basement that she’s basically a pro with. He’s with it enough to tell that they’re getting to the part of the game where she convinces her opponent to put some money down, one leg hiked up onto the table nearly bent in half over top of it.

“Look at her.” The music is loud enough that Carol’s speaking voice, the sultry warmth of it, is covered. “Can you see the way Stevie’s showing off the pretty panties you got her.”

And he can. Bent over the side of the table, her shirt has come untucked from the back of her pants and visible over the top is the yellow strap of her thong.

“Think she’s showing off for you? Think she’s got her ass up in the air so you can see how much she loves that special set you picked out for her? Or do you think she’s hoping someone like Johnny will see it and actually show her a good time?”

“Care,” he’s whining now, desperate and hard underneath her.

“What? Do you want me to talk about what I think she’s going to let you do to her? How sweet you’ve been and what you’ve earned? She likes giving head so much it’s probably time someone returns the favor.

“You can suck her off, see how she fills out those panties.”

It sounds like an order and it’s overwhelming in a thousand different ways. He rests his head against her back to help hide the way he moans.

“If you do a good job maybe you can even play with her tits while I ride you.”

He’s panting, rough and hot into the back of the blouse she’s wearing, “Carrie, I can’t. I can’t.”

She shifts in his lap again and the sharp dig of her fingernails in his cheek is the only thing that keeps him from blowing his load right there. He’s dragged into eye contact, staring deep into the blue ringed black of her eyes. She’s turned on too.

“At your limit, baby?” she coos, and it’s condescending but sincere. He knows all her inflections even when he’s higher than god and dumber than dirt. “Go get Stevie and we’ll go home. First night of spring break and we’ve already got that big house to ourselves.”

She slips out of his lap, with that last tease, sending him stumbling toward Stevie with a slap to the ass. Tommy stumbles forward, shuffles his feet forward to get to his other best girl. Brain clouding over everything except for his task and what’s going to happen when they get back to Stevie’s room.

There’s money at the edge of the table, and Peters is lining up a shot when Tommy makes it over. He feels drunk, probably looks it, and when he feels like a balloon whose tether is barely being held onto he thinks it’s fine that he lets himself slump into her side. “We’re ready to head out.”

A pile of crumpled bills sits on the edge of the table. Three striped balls sit in a crooked line and the eight ball is beside the corner pocket. Stevie starts to lean her cue against the table when Peters scoffs, “You always go running when you’re called, Harrington. We’re in the middle of the game, there’s money on the table.”

Stevie rolls her eyes, and the money that the guy could have had vanishes even if he doesn’t know it yet. “I usually listen when a girl tells me she’s almost finished,” Stevie says as she waves at Carol, the bitchy little finger wave they used to do in the high school hallway to acknowledge that something has held one of them up. “That’s why I get so many. Maybe it’s why you don’t.”

“You really going to admit to fucking Hagan’s girl right in front of him.”

“If that’s what you think you heard.” Stevie says with a dismissive flick of her hair. “It’s my turn, right? I’m getting bored.”

Peters gestures toward the table, an attitude problem that Tommy clocks through the syrupy slowness his brain has settled into. He pulls his attention closer to the surface of the thick molasses sweetness it’s settled into. Keeping one eye on the way Stevie swaggers to the table and another on the growing problem that is her opponent.

With a decisive stroke, she sinks the line of balls into the side pocket, each of them rolling in one after the other like well behaved school children. She locks eyes with Peters then, ruining the game but making it clear just what mistake he made, as she sends the 8 ball tumbling into the corner pocket.

“Good game, John Boy,” she says, not bothering to look at him as she grabs the pile of bills from the edge and thumbs through each one.

Stevie doesn’t usually take victory laps, but she does like to make people sit in the consequences of their stupid choices occasionally. Doing it now means she misses the way John Peters’ face storms over and the way he menaces toward her.

Tommy doesn’t. And with his higher brain function hidden somewhere deep in a closet. Put to sleep by the way Carol and Stevie have handled him all night. He doesn’t have a chance of stopping the dumber, primal parts of him from reaching forward grabbing the other guy’s arm in a tight fisted grip before he can do something stupid like try to hit Stevie. Violence isn’t his normal go-to. When his brain hasn’t been sanded down by sweet condescension he prefers breaking the tension with a shitty joke or two. But he likes the way he can feel the bones in John’s wrist grind together in his hold. “Don’t.”

“Call off your fucking guard dog, Harrington.” There’s a waver in the plea, a tiny bit of fear that makes him feel almost as good as the obvious pleasure on Stevie’s face.

“If you weren’t being a sore loser I wouldn’t need the guard,” she muses, but Tommy knows her tells. He doesn’t let go until he sees the flick of amusement kissing her smile, right before she says, “Down boy, heel.”

Still he gives one more threatening squeeze to John’s arms before he bares his teeth and lets go. It makes Stevie laugh, which is all Tommy cares about, and the sound of it makes Carol perk up from her spot on the sofa like one of those little prairie rats at the zoo.

Time to go.

Stevie is particular. Likes things neat, tidy, contained.

It means the bed he’s sitting on is actually made. The navy comforter, soft under his palms, is pulled up to the pillows. The sheets beneath probably pulled into hospital corners.

It means she folds each piece of clothing she pulls off Carol. He stares, hungry eyes flitting between the two of them, the milky and freckled skin of Carol’s back and the spread of Stevie’s hand against it. The rosy pink bra gets flicked open with a pinch of two fingers.

“Are you watching, Tom? There’s gonna be a quiz,” Stevie asks, bringing her opposite hand up to pinch a dusky nipple he can just make out in the side profile.

“You’re, ah, confusing the metaphor,” Carrie teases, back arching to put her closer to Stevie who rewards her, bending down to soothe that pinch with a talented mouth.

“Right,” Steve agrees, pulling her mouth away from Carol’s tits long enough to send him a predatory smile. “He’s our puppy.”

He’d be embarrassed by the noise that leaves his mouth if he was thinking much at all any more.

The girls share a look, giggling in a way that makes him feel small and dumb and fantastic.

“That’s a game to play some other time.”

“Feeling impatient, Stevie.”

“Like you aren’t?” She straightens up, sliding her hand up Carol’s thigh. Moving slowly so Tommy can track every inch of creamy skin disappearing and reappearing from under her olive-toned palm. So he can see how her fingers disappear beneath Carol’s pretty purple skirt.

“Wanna guess how wet she is, baby?”

“Please,” Tommy hears himself beg.

“God, Stevie, your fingers,” Carol moans, louder than she’s ever been with him. Turning to catch his eyes from over her shoulder, barely able to hold them open.

“You’re still dressed, baby. You wouldn’t be able to do anything if we came over.” Steie says. Her fingers working in Carrie’s pussy just a vague movement he can barely make out from under the skirt.

“Maybe he’s waiting on you, Stevie. You’re still hiding his special present.” she manages to pant out.

And she is. Carol is half-dressed, tits bare with her skirt still on, one hand clinging to Stevie’s arm. Stevie is fully dressed, arousal evident as she stares down Tommy. Even though they’re in equal states, Tommy feels stripped naked.

Bare beneath Stevie’s knowing gaze.

“That must be it,” Stevie agrees. “Can you get me undressed, baby? Can you do it before I get Carrie off?”

Stevie has a challenge on her face that Tommy is familiar with. The kind they used to share at sleepovers right before a dare, a bet. He’s been trained by years of ‘betcha can’ts’ and triple dog dares.

He tumbles off the bed, mussing the covers in his haste to get to them. Carol is close, he knows, and even though the mess makes Stevie tutt disappointedly every second is one closer to losing.

Crouched on the floor, kneeling at their feet, Tommy can hear the sound of Stevie’s fingers inside Carol. The slick, wet sound of how turned on she is louder than the quick and heavy way she’s breathing. There’s a decision he has to make now, can see in the smug curl of Stevie's lip the choice will have to be all his, what half of his present does he reveal first?

There wasn’t actually any choice. Even as he’s nose to fly with Stevie, Tommy has his hands buried in her stupid shirt. Pushing it up and revealing the trail of hair that’s disappearing into her jeans, the hint of yellow sticking out above them that he hopes he’ll get to see later.

Tommy keeps pushing. Up, up to his toes, revealing more skin as Stevie’s shirt moves up to. Up over her head, off one arm.

It dangles, caught at the elbow of the arm still bringing Carol closer and closer to the edge. Any other time it would be funny, perfect, particular Stevie at any sort of odds. But Tommy's a bit distracted.

With the shirt gone his hands can move back down. Can flirt with the soft cotton on her chest, feel the way the flowers embroidered along the cups are rough against his palms as he cups and squeezes. He relishes in the more firm give of them, more muscled than Carol’s but just as much fun to hold.

Like she can sense him thinking that, shoulder to shoulder like they are Carol turns licking a line up his arm where skin is exposed. The warning he knows to expect before she’s biting down on his cloth covered shoulder. Stevie might have brought her to climax but he’s the tool she’s using to keep herself grounded. His body throbs at the thought, his shoulder where her teeth grind and elsewhere in the places where he’s hard and aching.

Carol lets go. Kisses the spot once, twice. Gasping against his arm, hot breath causing a chill down his spine now, as Stevie pulls out.

The shirt Tommy couldn’t remove slumps down to the floor. The crumpled pile erotic in an abstract way his lit professor would want him to explain. He might have even been able to, if Stevie didn’t bring two wet fingers up to his mouth. They tap his bottom lip, sliding in any way before he can open, rough against his palate and pushing until they can curl back to flirt with his throat. Carol is heavy on his tongue, heavy against his side.

“If you don’t tell him what to do he’ll just grope you all night.” Carrie tells Stevie. She gives him a light shove just too make sure the dig lands.

“It's only the second pair he's ever touched, I thought I'd let him have a little fun.”

The bed squeaks as Carrie throws herself down on it. “Suit yourself,” she says, “I can’t come from his hands fumbling around like he’s trying to open his locker again, but you’ve always been special.”

He’s found her nipple, rubs the bud of it.

“Oh, left 32, right 18, left 67,” Stevie moans fake as that porno he slipped out of the back room at Family Video. Just like that video, he still gets hot.

“Come over here,” Carol purrs, sweet as she can be. She pats the bed beside her and Stevie shrugs off his hands to crawl up into the bed beside her. A hand cupped around one ear, a familiar sight, his two girls whispering, giggling.

“You really think he’s earned it,” Stevie asks, loud enough for Tommy to hear on purpose. Her eyes flick up and down him as a coy smile plays on her lips.

“No,” Carol says, a matching smile on hers. “But if you let him I’ll play with you so you can actually get off.”

“Can’t find your clit so you think he won’t be able to find mine.” Tommy flashes hot under the collar of the shirt he’s still wearing. Stevie’s grin has tipped over from coy to wry, she’s the cat playing with his canary.

“Maybe I wanna have a little fun with you too, babe.”

They're beautiful together, curled into each other on their sides. Only showing off the softest angles of themselves. Soft breasts and the curve of Stevie's gorgeous ass. He would be fine, standing here like a limp dick just watching them play and tease one another. Trading spit that still tastes like house party screwdrivers and shitty beer while they use their hands and bodys to rub one another off. Panting, laughing, squealing, half of the fun in the fact that he only gets to watch and they get to decide what he sees.

He'd be fine with that. His girls are particular and they always know what's going to please them.

Stevie rolls over, shimmies and rolls her hips to work those too tight jeans down. Finally showing the way she's hot and wet and straining against the soft yellow thong he gave her. Carol is already playing with her, running two fingers around the tip.

“Try to get your pants off, Stud.” Stevie orders, “I'll let you get up close with my boobies.”

Carrie's free hand reaches over, pinches Stevie’s nipple hard enough to make her writhe. Tommy struggles harder with the zip on his pants, desperate to get them off.

“That word is disgusting,” Carol says with a sniff. Still playing with Stevie’s clit the same way Tommy has watched her play with herself, two fingers rubbing in slow circles before she drags her thumb down in a firm line.

“Prude, you and Robin should play together.”

There's something small and devious in her smile that he decides is for Stevie to handle. He is too worried about the way the band of the bra he bought is being folded, curled carefully he assumes for him.

“If he were smarter I'd say he planned this,” Carrie says. “No underwire, that silky band.”

“We'll see how it holds up, you know I hate when people ruin my things when they're careless.”

His shirt is still on. Dick out and leaking, he'll definitely stain it. It's more important to get on the bed, to crawl up the side Carol isn't on. “Throw your leg over. Try not to act like such a virgin.” Stevie demands.

He does, straddles her chest, tucking his knees into the hollow beneath her arms. She grins when he's settled into place, reaches up to yank his shirt off before bringing both hands up to push her tits together.

He thursts once, by accident, dick slipping under the band of the bra gripped by it and the shallow channel she’s made for him. Tommy looks, locks eyes with her feeling like a kid with his hand in the cookie jar. Instead of chatizing, instead of lecture, she raises a brow and it says ‘just this once he can have dessert before dinner.’ Or maybe it says ‘good dog’ or ‘A+’, he’s lost track of what’s he’s supposed to be other than theirs and listening.

The hand on Carol’s side of the bed lets go. Moved down until it’s making her whine, touching her sensitive places, Stevie getting her fingers wet again too soon after the first time. And as Carol bites at Stevie’s neck and shoulder with a renewed focus on getting the other woman to cum, Stevie is getting him wet.

She takes that slick she’s gathered from Carol, mixes it with the pre he’s been leaking all night.

When she’s done she presses her tits back togheter. Tommy is still looking her in the eyes, stunned, when she spits.

It drips down the head, pools in the concave of her chest. “Be a good boy and get yourself off.”

Tommy doesn’t need to be told twice. Is barely given permission before he’s rutting against her chest. Chasing that friction, the release he’s been craving for hours. He’s been on edge for longer than he’s ever been before, he feels like some sad virgin. A two-pump chump. Like a stiff breeze could do him in. And right as he’s reaching the precipice, Stevie grabs ahold of him and pushes once again.

Tongue out, she catches him on the upward thrust. Swirls that pink, pink tongue around the head.

And he’s done for.

He cums hard. Catching Stevie's mouth, her chin, dripping down her chest. A pearl necklace that touches the edges of those yellow, triangle cups.

Hard enough that he isn't sure he's not just dreaming of how good she looks. Cause he's pretty sure once he finally cums he blacks out.

Sometime, he’s not even sure how much later, he realizes that Stevie and Carol are talking. Tommy has been manuvered into the middle. Flat on his back, Carol is sitting high on the bed, propped up by pillows and running her fingers through his hair; her nails scratch at his scalp every few passes. Stevie is tucked in tight to his side, nose buried into his chest, head pillowed on his arm.

“All I'm saying is I thought she was hot when she had that awful perm junior year.’

“You can't call dibs on a person, that's feminism.” Stevie murmurs back, answer slow and half slurred with sleep.

“She’s your best friend. Convince her when you go pick her up from campus tomorrow.”

Stevie snorts, an ugly, ungraceful sound that usually means she's thought of something she isn't going to share. “What's in it for me?”

They both know he's awake again, they know each other too well for the girls not to. But if he wasn't sure, Carol sinking her fingers in his hair and tugging, pulling him up and baring his neck for Stevie would cinch it for him.

“I'll let you play with the puppy,” she says. “You can have him all to yourself.”

“Yeah, okay, deal.” Stevie’s smile spreads slow across her face, he can feel it against the thin skin of his ribs.

A shiver runs down his spine, fear, arousal, anticipation. He can only imagine the plans Stevie must be dreaming up for just the two of them. She is, after all, very particular.

#stomarol #my fic #smut #genderfluid steve harrington #stevie harrington #mild referenced puppy play #sorry i cant help myself i love a little dog imagery in my dom/sub #some implied bubblescoops too #its my new favorite thing ive been rotating it in my brain #mean girls trio #fun fact this was going to be my stevie week day 7 fic and then i never finished it #anyway enjoy

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createyourworldsblog · 9 months ago

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Mikey x Reader

It was a normal winter day in New York City, school just got out for winter break and y/n was bundled up in her winter coat as she navigated her way through hidden alleyways to go down the designated manhole to visit her turtles friends. She moved the manhole cover and shimmed her way down the ladder, careful not to slip with her arms full of presents for the turtles and Master Splinter.

After many twists and turns she finally saw the lights from the turtles' lair and was surrounded by the smell of pizza. She was greeted by Leonardo who was sitting on the couch reading a book, she could hear the sound of metal coming from Donnie's lab and the sound of Raph working out in his gym. "Hello y/n, nice to see you." "Hi Leo, where can I sit these?" she lifted her arms to show off the presents she brought. "Under the tree by the dojo." She smiled and thanked Leo. She hadn't even had a chance to take a step before she felt arms enfold her, lifting her up in the air. "Angelcakes, you made it!" Y/n blushed, she has been harboring a crush on the orange-masked turtle for a while. "Mikey put me down before I drop your present." She laughed as Mikey swiftly put her down. "A present for me? Gimme gimme." Mikey tried to grab the presents out of her arms but y/n turned away. "Now Mikey, you have to wait until everyone is here." Mikey pouted, y/n felt boldness strike her as she leaned forward and kissed his cheek. Mikey's cheeks turned a pale shade of pink. "How about you and I play that video game you've been texting me about?" "s..sure y/n." Mikey's usual confidence seemed to have vanished as he gently took y/n's hand and pulled her towards the couch. Leo who had been secretly watching the whole thing suddenly got up. "I have to speak to Sensei, I'll see you guts later." Then he disappeared behind the door of the dojo. Y/n and Mikey played several rounds of his new game, y/n, as expected, lost every time, but she was thrilled to be spending time with Mikey. As they played more people slowly starting filling the lair. April, Casey, and Vern arrived with their gifts, Raph finished his workout and sat besides Mikey reading a comic and laughing at how many times y/n died in the game. Master Splinter and Leonardo pulled Donnie out of the lab to join the crew. Splinter and y/n made a lovely dinner of ham, sweet potatoes, and, of course, pizza. The crew sat at the table laughing and joking. Mikey kept stealing glances at y/n as she was laughing at some joke Leo made. Jealousy burned in Mikey's stomach. Unknown to y/n Mikey liked her back and he planned on making his move tonight. As dinner came to an end, everyone slowly piled around the Christmas tree to give presents. From April and Casey, y/n received a set of pearl earrings, from Master Splinter she got a sample tea set, from Leo, Raph, and Donnie she received a planner with sparkling pens, a handmade computer and a bonsai plant. One by one the presents disappeared until the only two that remained were y/n and Mikey's to each other. Y/n pulled the gift from under the tree and shyly made her way to him. A blush bloomed across her cheeks as she handed it to him. Mikey pulled away the wrapping paper to reveal a custom skateboard. The wheels were orange with green stripes and underneath there was his name with all his favorite things painted around it. He didn't say a word as he wrapped y/n in his arms. "It's perfect Angelcakes, I love it." Y/n squeezed Mikey back. "You're welcome." He pulled away and grabbed her present and handed it to her. The box was small, she lifted the lid slowly to reveal a pair of orange flower earrings and a necklace to match. She lifted them out of the box and a slip of paper fell out. She picked it up and the note read in orange ink, "Be my girl?" Y/n gasped and looked at Mikey, hope shined in his eyes as she waited for her to reply. She sat the box down and leapt in his arms. "Yes Mikey, I will be your girl." Everyone behind them cheered, Mikey bent his head down and gave y/n a sweet kiss. It was truly a holiday to remember.

#tmnt x reader #tmnt imagine #tmnt mikey #bayverse turtles #tmnt michelangelo #tmnt x y/n

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uispeccoll · 2 years ago

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#MiniatureMonday #TinyTuesday!

School Supplies

I think we all can agree that one of the best things about going back to school is new supplies! Whether it be notebooks, planners, pencils or pens, there is nothing quite like finding the perfect new things to carry you through the school year. Here are some minis that are perfect for the start of the new school year.

The first miniature is five leaves of blank notebook paper attached to metal rings, perfectly sized to fit inside the blank blue binder. The creator of this binder is not identified, but I like to think they made this little binder to send their mouse friend off to school with.

Next is a beautiful handmade notebook bound in soft brown leather with a gilt flower design stamped into the front cover. With lovely blank cream paper inside, this notebook is the perfect handheld size to carry around and jot down thoughts as they arise.

Originally made for the third Miniature Book Society Conclave held in LA in 1985, our third mini is a daily planner. With “Things to do today” printed largely at the top and a numbered checklist on the page, this would be an excellent way to keep your day organized!

-Kaylee S., Olson Graduate Assistant

Charlotte Smith Miniature Collection

TS1250 .T45 1985

TS1250 .M56

TS1250 .B53 1900z

#uiowa #miniaturemonday #history #library #special collections #miniature books #UiowaSpecialCollections #notebook #planner #artist books

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thedecorcircle24 · 5 months ago

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Corporate Gifting in India: Sustainable and Eco-Friendly Gift Ideas

Corporate gifting has become an essential part of building business relationships in India. However, with growing environmental concerns, many companies are now shifting towards sustainable and eco-friendly gifting options.

This article explores innovative, green corporate gift ideas that align with corporate social responsibility (CSR) goals and leave a lasting impact on clients, employees, and stakeholders.

Why Choose Sustainable Corporate Gifts?

1. Environmental Benefits

Reduces waste and carbon footprint by using biodegradable materials and eco-friendly packaging.

Promotes recycling and upcycling, extending product life cycles and reducing landfill waste.

Supports sustainable production practices that minimize resource consumption and pollution.

2. Brand Image and CSR Initiatives

Enhances corporate reputation by showcasing a commitment to environmental responsibility.

Aligns with eco-conscious business practices, meeting the expectations of green-conscious clients.

Demonstrates commitment to sustainability, reinforcing corporate values and ethical policies.

3. Thoughtful and Long-Lasting Impression

Unique, high-quality gifts that recipients appreciate and use for a long time.

Creates a sense of goodwill and loyalty by showing thoughtfulness and care.

Top Sustainable and Eco-Friendly Corporate Gift Ideas in India

1. Reusable Bamboo and Wooden Products

Bamboo coffee mugs and water bottles that are lightweight, durable, and biodegradable.

Wooden desk organizers and stationery made from responsibly sourced materials.

Bamboo toothbrushes and cutlery sets for reducing plastic waste in daily use.

2. Organic and Sustainable Gift Hampers

Organic tea and coffee assortments packed in recyclable containers.

Healthy snack boxes with nuts, dried fruits, and seeds for guilt-free indulgence.

Ayurvedic wellness kits featuring herbal skincare and immunity-boosting essentials.

3. Eco-Friendly Office Supplies

Recycled paper notebooks and planners that minimize deforestation.

Seed paper pens and plantable stationery that grow into plants when disposed of.

Jute or cork laptop bags offering a stylish yet sustainable alternative to synthetic materials.

4. Sustainable Home and Lifestyle Products

Reusable cloth bags and tote bags replacing single-use plastics.

Handmade soy wax candles free from toxic chemicals and artificial fragrances.

Upcycled home decor items crafted from reclaimed materials.

5. Indoor Plants and Green Gifting

Air-purifying plants like Snake Plant, Money Plant, and Aloe Vera improving indoor air quality.

DIY gardening kits encouraging sustainable home gardening.

Seed balls for tree plantation initiatives, making gifting more impactful.

6. Handcrafted and Artisanal Gifts

Khadi fabric apparel and accessories supporting rural artisans.

Ethically made terracotta and ceramic items promoting traditional craftsmanship.

Handwoven scarves and eco-friendly textiles made using natural fibers.

7. Zero-Waste Personal Care Kits

Natural and organic skincare sets free from harsh chemicals and synthetic additives.

Handmade soaps and shampoo bars reducing plastic bottle waste.

Biodegradable bamboo razors and combs offering an eco-conscious grooming solution.

How to Choose the Right Sustainable Corporate Gift?

1. Understand Your Audience

Identify recipient preferences to ensure gifts are appreciated and used.

Ensure usefulness and practicality by selecting items that fit their lifestyle.

2. Prioritize Sustainability Certifications

Look for eco-friendly labels (FSC, Fair Trade, Organic) ensuring authenticity.

Check for biodegradable and recyclable packaging to reduce waste.

3. Support Local and Ethical Brands

Choose gifts made by local artisans and small businesses to support sustainability.

Ensure fair trade and ethical labor practices for socially responsible gifting.

The Future of Corporate Gifting in India

Increasing demand for eco-conscious corporate gifts as businesses embrace sustainability.

Growth of sustainable gifting startups offering innovative and green solutions.

Greater emphasis on ESG (Environmental, Social, and Governance) policies in corporate gifting strategies.

Conclusion

Sustainable corporate gifting is more than just a trend; it’s a responsibility. By choosing eco-friendly gifts, businesses can build stronger relationships while making a positive impact on the environment. Whether it’s bamboo products, organic hampers, or handcrafted goods, sustainable corporate gifting in India is here to stay.

FAQs

1. Why should companies opt for eco-friendly corporate gifts?

Eco-friendly gifts help reduce environmental impact, enhance brand reputation, and align with CSR initiatives.

2. What are some budget-friendly sustainable corporate gifts?

Affordable options include seed paper stationery, reusable cloth bags, and organic snack hampers.

3. How can businesses ensure the sustainability of their corporate gifts?

By choosing certified sustainable products, minimizing packaging waste, and supporting ethical brands.

4. Are eco-friendly gifts well-received by employees and clients?

Yes, they are thoughtful, practical, and align with modern sustainability values.

5. Where can businesses source sustainable corporate gifts in India?

Many online marketplaces and local brands offer eco-friendly corporate gifting solutions.

#corporate gifting india #luxury corporate gifts #premium corporate gifts india #corporate gift items #corporate gifts #corporate gifting products #premium corporate gifts #professional gifts

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