Hiii! Can i req a drabble for Baku again? Maybe fluffy and comforting Baku wherein he finds reader drunk (But reader doesn’t drink so it’s unusual for reader to be that way), and he just takes care of the reader?
Yk those ones who pull up their hair when they throw up, etc. U can experiment on this one I really don’t mind but that’s the gist of it!
- Anon 🧃 (I’ll send in as this one! I’m the one who first requested for Baku ❤️)
ˋ°•*⁀➷DRUNK ON YOU!
You got drunk for the first time. Hu-Min found you, stopped you from puking in a bush, carried you like a bride, and crashed on your couch like a man with morals. Drabble, whc2, reader has long hair, accidental confession, soft and flustered Hu-min Park Hu-min (Baku) x gn! reader wc: 1k+ tw: mentions of vomiting, but it's not descriptive. masterlist
The alcohol hits harder than expected.
You can tell… but at the same time, you can’t.
The world spins lazily around you, like it’s floating just out of reach. Your body feels weightless, but your head is filled with cotton, and your ears are ringing with a dull buzz. The shot glass in your hand is warm, slick, almost melting in your grip.
You don’t drink. Everyone knows that. You know that.
And yet, here you are—slumped against the back wall of a convenience store, half-hidden behind a row of boxes, nursing your second (or was it third?) bottle of soju like it’s a lifeline.
It wasn’t supposed to be like this.
You had other plans tonight—study a little, rest your brain, maybe even sleep early. But the week had chewed you up and spit you out, and with exams looming over your head like storm clouds, you cracked.
A bottle won’t kill me, you had thought.
Just this once.
You’d read the posts online. Those who said alcohol numbs the stress, softens the edges of a bad day, and makes things quieter, if only for a little while.
They weren’t wrong.
You feel… floaty. Unanchored. Like you’re laughing at nothing in particular—maybe at the absurdity of it all. Maybe just because it’s easier than crying.
Your phone buzzes again. For the fourth time in the last five minutes.
It's the group chat with the boys.
Bakutastic🏀: "seriously dumbass WHERE are u??" Si-genius: "you okay?" GoTank: "if you don’t reply, I’m tracking your phone. Not joking." JUNNIE💕💗🐰🐰🐰: "So…Baku ran off😭😭"
You stare at the screen, lips tugging into a crooked smile.
Always so worrisome, those three. Like they weren’t getting into fights every day.
You don’t reply. Not yet.
Right now, you just want to stay in this haze a little longer, where nothing matters, and everything feels far, far away.
Then suddenly—
A hand wrapped gently around your arm, pulling you out of the hazy fog you’d been drifting in. Before you could even process it, you were moving—
No… falling.
Straight into someone’s arms.
Warm. Steady. Familiar.
Hu-min.
He held you tightly, like he’d been holding his breath the whole time and could finally exhale. You felt the rise and fall of his chest, still a little frantic, like he’d been running. And he had searched every convenience store he knew you liked, desperate to find you.
And now he had.
He pulled back just enough to see your face, his hands coming up to cup your cheeks. His thumbs brushed gently against your skin, tapping lightly as if trying to wake you from a dream.
“Hey,” he murmured, worry tightening his voice, “you should’ve called me if you were planning to get drunk.”
A soft scolding, but his touch never left your face.
Then, with a small, helpless huff, he pinched your already flushed cheeks.
“Idiot,” he added, quieter this time. “What if I hadn’t found you?” His voice was a lot softer than usual.
You only hummed out in response. Smiling lazily up at Hu-min as your vision came in waves. He looked funny. You laughed, wrapping your arms around his waist as you grinned up at him
“Join me, Hu-min.”
“Are you seriously trying to ask me out right now?”
“They say it’s best to share soju with a lover!”
“You—“
Hu-min looked away. Face turning red at your very sudden, bold attitude. Your words were slurred, and you hiccuped with each syllable, but the way you were grinning up at him like a lovesick fool made your intentions pretty clear.
You just confessed. Accidentally…
“Okay, you’re completely drunk, and I’m teasing you about this in the morning.” He huffed, fixing your messy hair and your jacket that was slipping off one shoulder.
You only laughed, almost falling further, but Hu-min already had an arm wrapped around your waist. Supporting your body with his while he walked back to your place.
Soju definitely worked with escaping your academics
Your relationship with Hu-min will, however, turn very interesting in the morning.
Hu-Min managed to get you home with surprisingly little trouble, which was impressive, considering you were leaning your entire weight against him like your legs had given up for the night. He tried to match your unsteady footsteps, but it was a lost cause. You kept wobbling unpredictably, veering into his side like a very affectionate shopping cart with one broken wheel.
Still, he held on, one arm locked tightly around your waist, the other hovering protectively in case you decided to face-plant into the sidewalk.
It was a quiet night. Just the crunch of gravel under your shoes, the soft buzz of faraway streetlights, and your off-key humming something vaguely familiar, possibly the theme song of a children’s show.
He should’ve been annoyed. Embarrassed, even. But all he could think about was the words you slurred earlier:
“They say it’s best to share soju with a lover!”
His ears were still burning.
Then—
“Hu-min. Hu-min.”
He blinked out of his thoughts. “Hm?”
“I think I need to vomit.”
“What.”
He came to a dead stop. Your apartment building was literally right there, glowing like a finish line in some twisted, drunken marathon — and you were about to throw up next to a shrub like a tragic K-drama extra?
“Hey—HEY! Keep your mouth shut!” he shouted, nearly tripping over his own feet as he scrambled to stop you from bending over the nearest bush. “Don’t even look at that hedge!”
You groaned. “But I’m dying.”
“No, you’re not! You’re just dramatic and full of bad decisions!”
You slumped harder into him, breathing through your mouth like a medieval damsel. He muttered a string of curse words under his breath, then looked up at the second-floor balcony of your building.
The elevator was out. Of course.
“You’ve gotta be kidding me,” he hissed to himself. Then, louder:
“Okay. This is happening.”
With a grunt, Hu-Min bent down, swept your legs up, and lifted you bridal-style into his arms. You yelped in surprise, then immediately wrapped your arms around his neck.
“Oh my god,” you giggled, voice muffled against his collarbone. “Are you finally sweeping me off my feet?”
“Shut up,” he huffed, already halfway up the stairs. “You’re literally seconds away from puking, and I’m saving your dignity. Barely.”
Your head lolled against his shoulder, but you looked up at him with that same dazed, lovestruck smile from earlier—the one that made his heart beat a little too fast.
“…You’re strong,” you murmured.
“Yeah, yeah.”
“You smell nice.”
“Do NOT throw up on me.”
He made it to your apartment door in record time, panting and slightly red-faced—though whether it was from physical exertion or your constant drunk compliments, even he wasn’t sure.
When he finally set you down, gently leaning you against the wall to unlock your door, you sighed dreamily and said, “This is the most romantic thing that’s ever happened to me.”
He snorted.
“Then your standards are tragically low.”
Finally, after some fumbling with your bag and a lot of muttering under his breath about why you carried five pens but no water, Hu-Min managed to fish out your keys. He nudged the door open with his shoulder and kicked it shut behind him, heading straight for the bathroom like a man on a mission.
He gently set you down by the sink, supporting your body with one hand while reaching for a towel with the other. Then, without a word, he grabbed your toothbrush, ran it under water, and squirted on your toothpaste like it was part of some practiced emergency routine.
You groaned and leaned forward, and he was already there, brushing your hair back from your face, gathering it in his hand like it was second nature. He held it gently but firmly, thumb stroking the back of your neck with a feather-light touch you were almost too drunk to notice.
“There,” he said softly, crouching a little to meet your eyes. “You’ll feel more sober once you rinse off.”
You blinked at him, swaying slightly as you stared at his face, all soft lines and furrowed brows and the kind of worry that couldn’t be faked. Before you could say anything else, though, you vomited into the sink, and Hu-min waited patiently for you to finish.
“You okay?”
“You’re reallyyyy good at this,” you mumbled, eyes half-lidded.
“At holding your hair while you puke?” he laughed
You nodded slowly. “Mm-hmm. Husband material.”
He froze for half a second, toothbrush still in his hand. Then:
“Brush your teeth before you say stuff like that.”
But even as he said it, his ears turned pink again. It’s ridiculous how soft he gets with you. His voice turns down a notch, and instead of his loud and boisterous attitude, he can’t help but feel calmer and relaxed around you.
Hu-min stayed the entire time. He helped you brush your teeth and wash your face.
“C’mon, your highness,” he grumbled as he gently steered you out of the bathroom, one hand on your back. “We’ll talk in the morning, when you’re more sane, okay?”
You dropped onto the mattress like a sack of potatoes, face-first. “You’re my favorite person.”
“That’s the soju talking.”
“Nooo,” you mumbled, voice muffled by your pillow. “The soju would never lie to you.”
Hu-min laughed under his breath, but it came out more fond than amused. He pulled the blanket up over your shoulders and gently tugged your tangled hair out from under your face.
Just as he stood to leave, you cracked one eye open and reached out lazily, catching the hem of his shirt.
“…Stay?”
He froze.
A beat passed.
“…No,” he said, more gently than expected. “You’re barely sober, I'll stay at your couch." He bent down, carefully swiping away stray strands of hair from your face.
You pouted. “But my bed’s cold.”
“I’ll turn up your heater dumbass” he laughed, prying your fingers off with great care.
You flopped back dramatically, already halfway to sleep again. “You’re no fun…”
“Righttt…” he muttered, walking out, “that’s definitely the problem tonight.”
He grabbed a spare blanket from your cabinet and made his way to your couch, shaking his head to himself as he lay down, arms behind his head.
Silence filled the room, broken only by your soft breathing.
Then— “…Hu-min?”
He groaned. “Yes, your highness?”
“…Don’t forget to dream about me.”
He stared at the ceiling. Then covered his face with the blanket.
“You’re so annoying.”
But under that blanket, he was smiling like an idiot.
an: Hello again, anon! I'm sooo sorry this took a while to post! Got a bit busy! But anyway, I feel like this scenario would also apply to a platonic relationship with Hu-min! (minus the romantic stuff, ofc) He's a really caring person and would definitely want to make sure his friends are okay when black out drunk.
