(1/7) gluttony: an inordinate desire to consume more than that which one requires.
(envy) (gluttony) (greed) (lust) (pride) (sloth) (wrath)
hongjoong x reader
word count: 3k
angst (warning: alcohol abuse)
it was the 7th night in three months you were woken by the sound of your phone blaring, a number you were coming to recognize making your stomach sink.
you knew what you were gonna hear.
hongjoong's drunken voice slurring that he needed you to pick him up. that he hadn't been doing anything but got busted by the police and needed to pay yet another fine.
it was the same thing you'd heard every other time you talked to him at five o'clock in the morning. charged with disorderly conduct as he paraded around the city a drunken disaster.
he was always a happy drunk, the life of the party who made everyone laugh and made alcohol look as if it was a mood booster; but more often than not, it would quickly turn sour.
he would mouth off to the wrong people but be able to dip before a fight broke out. he would conceal his alcohol in a brown paper bag, him and his rowdy friends passing the judgmental gazes of families and couples.
he would ignore your texts and calls pleading with him to be careful and to come home at a reasonable hour.
but you never ignored him.
no matter how mad and upset and frustrated he made you, you never ignored him. you got out of the bed, threw on a pair of shoes and made your way to the police station the same way you're doing right now.
you watch your boyfriend in defeat as he walks out of the police station, opening your car door and plopping down in the seat wordlessly.
you make no move to leave yet, the silence lingering between the both of you. you're waiting for an apology or an explanation or something, anything, even though it's things you've heard a thousand times before.
that he hadn't meant to drink that much.
that shots were on wooyoung that night so he couldn't turn it down.
that he'll stop drinking all together because he can't keep paying these fines and being brought in.
"hongjoong," you say quietly but he only groans, rolling his head back onto the seat like you've screamed at him.
"i know, y/n," he says, annoyance in his tone like he has any right to feel that way. like he was the one disturbed in the middle of his sleep and had to drive to the police station again to pick up his significant other of three years.
"i don't think you do. this is the 7th time i'm picking you up hongjoong. it's starting to-"
"baby, my head is fuckin' killing me and i just wanna sleep. can we talk about this later?"
he meets your gaze full of concern and disappointment but it's like it doesn't even phase him.
like he doesn't care how much pain and devastation his drinking brings you. how much he's missed out on and made you miss out on with his addiction (something he refuses to admit is an addiction) within these past three years.
unsurprisingly, you first met him at a bar.
you were drawn to him immediately, his handsome face and electric energy that had you guys leaving together just hours later.
but opposed to how most bar meetings go, you hadn't had sex. you talked all night in his small apartment, the one you moved into only four months after dating.
