your porcelain doll

  • J JK | 1 | 2 | 34 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11 | (Completed)

Rated M+
Jungkook x Reader


A collection of short stories which describe a toxic relationship; the thrill of life, love, sex and vice.

Mood board/Playlist

  • Radio Chaos | 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | (Completed)

Rated M
racer!Jungkook x Reader


The dark hoodies and jackets they’re wearing hugging and touching their bodies in places every girl is dying to and you find yourself yearning for their warmth. While the unforgiving November wind creeps up your body, you wonder how soothing it would be in the embrace of a notorious boy.

Mood board/Playlist

Pt. 4 preview

Rated M+
mafia!Jungkook x Reader


“She’s a babygirl Yoongi, and I think I’m in love with her.”

  • The Land of Tears | 1 | 2 | 3 |

Rated M
punk!Jimin x Reader


He lifts up your skirt and wraps your bare legs around his waist – his jeans too cold, carrying the October rain with them, and it makes your whole body shiver.

Rated M
mafia!Yoongi x Reader


He was your own porcelain doll – a dark and fucked up version of it, at least

Mood board/Playlist

anonymous asked:

I don't like period sex much but the conversation youre having with bloodstained-porcelain-doll made me laugh so fucking hard I woke my child I cant stop laughing omc

It definitely put me in stitches XD. She’s funny AF. Had to go bury myself in a pillow so the neighbors wouldn’t hear!

Hopefully you got your kid back to sleep- We didn’t mean to be that disruptive!

I’ve come up with a working title: ‘Care From Your Loving Angel (otherwise known as ‘Bleed on My Angelic Dick’).

Dancing On My Own Pt. 2

Thanks for the wait and all the love everyone! T^T @tiffcoups
You really keep me going! Just to avoid confusion, this happens around 2013 a year before Doyoon, Ming Ming and Samuel leave (heartbreaks) which is also a year before Jeonghan, Joshua and Minghao join (i think)

-Admin Plum

Part 1 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6.1 | Part 6.2

Originally posted by howona

You didn’t think packing would be so difficult. You knew you were a hoarder, but you never realised how badly it had gotten until your aunt had begun to help you de-clutter your room. Various trinkets, old brochures, chunky scrapbooks and unused posters amongst other things were scattered all over your room. You always were a sentimental, a trait you’d inherited from your mother according to your aunt.

A light buzzing noise caught your ear, tearing your attention away from the box of knickknacks you had been packing. 

It was Chan. 

Swiping your thumb across the screen, you brought the phone to your ear, expecting to hear the endearing Maknae’s voice but instead found yourself listening to someone much more unwelcomed.

“Why aren’t you answering my calls?”

You roll your eyes at his annoyed tone, “Seungcheol. I should’ve known it was you.”

A week had passed since prom night and Seungcheol was relentless on trying to get a hold of you. You were thankful his schedule became busier and the fact that Jihoon had your back, or else you were sure he would’ve taken the chance to see you face to face. But that didn’t stop him from calling you and sending you a ghastly amount of messages; so you blocked his number. Unfortunately for you he had 14 other phones at his disposal.  

Ignoring your comment he continued on “Did you block my number or something? What’s going on Y/N? Jihoon told me you were sick a week ago, but even if you were you’d still pick up my calls. I’m starting to think you’re avoiding me.”

You jeer at the irony of the situation. Now he cares? Now he picks up that something was wrong? You take a deep breath, your eyes landing on the box on top your bed.

“Are you free today?” You ask, catching him off guard.

“W-what? Oh, yeah. I have some time before my date with Y/F/N.”

A scowl forms on your lips; thankful he couldn’t see you, “Come and see me then. I have something for you.”

You place the phone on your desk after hanging up, not bothering to hear what else he had to say. Not even a few seconds later a text catches your attention; it’s from Jihoon.

A quiet chuckle escapes your lips. Trust Jihoon to voice your conscience. You grip the phone tightly in your shaky hands. You breathe loudly, trying to calm the racing beat of your heart. Were you sure? Were you ready to face your best friend?

The week without him wasn’t as bad as you thought it would’ve been. It gave you time to mull over your decisions and prepare yourself for the long journey of getting over him. Plus you didn’t have to go through it alone, with the other members rarely leaving you alone. Someone always ready and willing to spend time with you; you were grateful to be friends with such caring people. Even the normally quiet Vernon brought you along with Chan and Samuel to his favourite café in Hongdae to meet his little sister, conversing with you in English just to confuse the second youngest. 

You smile fondly at the memory. The thought of leaving them tore you apart, especially when you were beginning to get closer with more of the members, but it had to be done. With a deep breath you reply back to him.

Seungcheol thanks your aunt as she opens the door, an unreadable expression on her face.

“I’ll wait in the car, Y/N!” she calls out as she gives Seungcheol one last glance before grabbing her keys and closing the door, luggage bag in tow. He didn’t know why but as he walks through the hall leading to your room, a sense of dread begins to settle itself in his stomach. He shrugs it off, blaming it on the weird food experiment Mingyu had fed him.  He could hear you fumbling around your room, the sound of items hurriedly being scattered reaching his ears. It was as if you were trying to find something.

Seungcheol smiles triumphantly, his hand squeezing the ring in his palm, checking to make sure it was still there. He couldn’t wait to see the look on your face when you see him with the necklace. He was more than surprised when he saw it carelessly lying at his table during prom night, hurriedly stuffing it in his pocket before anyone else could take it. He figured the necklace snapped and fell from your neck without you noticing because of the damage on the lock. He was just thankful his name was engraved into the ring and that someone was kind enough to leave it on his table.

He wanted to berate you for losing such an important symbol of your friendship, but he was more focused on what your reaction would be once he shows you the jewelry. You were probably panicking,knowing how much that ring means to you. He thinks it’s part of the reason you were avoiding him and just chuckles to himself, picturing the adorable pout on your face when you go to confess to him. But he can’t wait to see the huge smile on your face when you thank him profusely for returning the ring back to you, your arms enveloping him in a warm hug. He loved your hugs. They were soothing and familiar. His thumbs gently brush over the silver band before pulling it out of his pocket and raising it in the air excitedly.

“Y/N!” he exclaims, “Look what I found!”

Seungcheol waits for the shocked gasp and braces himself for the onslaught of your affection. But it never came. Instead he sees you staring at him with a blank expression, eyes barely sparing a glance to the jewellery in his hand.

“Oh, you’re here.” He frowns at your unenthusiastic response. He moves to get closer to you but something stops him in his tracks. Your room, it was different. The picture frames full of images of you, him and the boys you took so much pride in were no longer up. Neither were the posters you and him had bought together. Your bookshelf that MingMing envied greatly was empty and so was the CD rack the both of you had grown over the years and the stuffed animals he’d won you over several years of going to festivals were nowhere to be seen. Every trace that had made the room seem so loved and welcoming were gone, the warmth replaced with something far more foreboding. 

The dreadful feeling Seungcheol had been fighting to push down came rushing back as his eyes darts across the bare room.

“Y/N…Why are you packing?” Y/N bit her lip at the sound of his voice. It was soft, laced heavily with confusion and panic. Your fold the last of your shirts, dumping them into your luggage bag before zipping it up and setting it on the floor.

“Y/N, why are you packing?” He asks again and this time his voice was louder but shaky. You pull up the handle of your bag, hands gripping tightly unto the handle.

“I got the scholarship Seungcheol,”

“Wh-what?” He chokes out.

With a deep breath you turn to face him, eyes hardened with resolve. You had to be strong. You couldn’t let up, “I’m moving to London.”

“What?!” He gasps in shock, “No, you can’t! Why are you leaving me? What about our promise?!”

You scoff, throwing your arms in the air in defeat.

“Why are you so selfish Seungcheol?”

He’s taken back by the ferocity in your voice. He thought he knew all there was to you. He’s seen you at your best, and he thought he’d seen you at your worst. But as he stares at the person standing before him, livid rage burning in their eyes he realises he was wrong.

“Why does everything have to be about you? I’m so sick of you and that stupid promise! We’re not children anymore. You can’t honestly expect me to stay glued to your side, pathetically watching from the sidelines while you reach your dreams and I sit back and let go of mine!”

He stares at you incredulously, eyes wide and mouth agape in shock.

The dam you had built and maintained for so long to hold back your feelings was cracking. It started in the middle, a small crack forming at the news of Seungcheol professing his love for another girl. Then the crack grew bigger, slowly allowing small streams of water to escape the moment you laid eyes on him kissing Y/F/N.

You thought you had sealed it back up thanks to your friends, each one of them helping you fill the gaps and drain the anxiety beginning to drown you. But just one look at Seungcheol had you crumbling.

He was a thunderstorm, effortlessly raining in your dam until it’s well past its capacity and all you can do to stop you from completely breaking is to let go. To let your walls fall apart as the surge of emotions you’d been hoarding for years overwhelm your sanity. And just like the water that rushes out of the broken dam so do the tears and the feelings you had kept inside.

“And what’s more is that I love you Seungcheol, ok? I’ve loved you for such a long time I can’t remember a life without me ever having feelings for you. But you never noticed. God, you were so oblivious! And just when I thought you were starting to feel the same you start fawning over Y/F/N!”

Seungcheol feels like a wrecking ball had just swung into him causing an unsettling feeling to pool in his stomach. He wants to move, to talk to her and defend himself but what could he say? What was there to say? 

“And while you’re over there busy making heart eyes at Y/F/N, did you notice me Seungcheol? Did you notice your best friend screaming in silence, staring at you with jealous teary eyes? No. Because you’re you and you’re dense as fuck.”

He bites his bottom lip in guilt. He’d never heard you swear before. You didn’t swear when Doyoon and Mingyu had walked in on you changing that one time. Not when Chan and Vernon had broken the porcelain doll your great grandmother had given you before her passing. Not even when Samuel had used your bra as a headgear for his super hero costume, flashing it to everyone in the Pledis building. You were always calm and rational. Yet as he stares at your bloodshot eyes, chest heaving up and down in exhaustion from yelling at him, he can’t help but think that he had broken you. And he feels disgusting.

He reaches out his palm, shaky hands opening to reveal the forgotten ring. He hopes it’ll help you change your mind, that seeing the ring would remind you of how much you meant to him, despite that fact that he didn’t know how to handle all the information you had just told him, “What about this?”

You lick your lips. That ring used to shine. It used to reflect all of the hopes, dreams and promises you had made to each other. It was a reminder of everything you had loved about the boy standing in front of you and you couldn’t stand to look at it.

“Keep it. I don’t need it anymore.”

You turn to look away from him, avoiding the shattered expression on his face as his hand falls limp to his side, the sound of the ring colliding with your cold wooden floors echoing in your ears as it slips through his fingers.

“I’m so done with it Seungcheol,” your voice felt hoarse but you couldn’t stop, “I’m done giving you my all and never getting anything back. I’m done hurting myself over you.”

You heaved the box full of trinkets from your bed and approach him hesitantly; grateful he accepts the package without a fuss. His eyes didn’t linger in the box but instead searches to meet yours, but you refuse. You keep your eyes trained on the floor as you wheel your luggage bag behind you. Seungcheol trails after you in silence, moving to stand in front of your neighbour’s door as he waits for you to lock the door and walk towards the elevators.

As you watch the counter get closer to your level you muster the courage to look into his eyes, “I want to live my dreams too. I’m proud of you, really. You’ve come so far…but I want to be proud of myself too… and I’m not going to get anywhere if I stick by you.”

Seungcheol couldn’t comprehend why the words you spoke now hurt so much more than when you were yelling at him. Your voice was soft and gentle, like it usually is. It was familiar and he thinks maybe that’s why it burns. The person that was glowering at him inside your room was unfamiliar; it was easy to write that person off as someone he was unacquainted to. But this person… this person gazing at him with tender eyes and speaking to him in a compassionate tone was you. The Y/N he grew up with. The innocent, loving Y/N he could always turn to.

And that’s why it aches so much. Because this version of yourself is the one he’s accustomed to and to hear such words leaving your mouth when all his life it was you he’d imagined always by his side was excruciatingly painful.

He wants to stop looking into your eyes. He wants to turn away, because it’s just another reminder that the person in your room and the person walking into the elevator was one and the same. But he can’t. Even when the door closes between the both of you he stays gazing at the spot where you stood, your last words freezing him in place.

“You know that promise Seungcheol? We promised to be together, even until death.”

He feels his heart drop at the sound of your bitter laughter ringing in his ears.

“You broke it first. You left me Seungcheol and that’s all you do. That’s all you’ve ever done and I can’t help but feel that that’s all you’ll ever do. You’ve never been beside me Seungcheol; I’ve always had to catch up. It’s painful, always watching you from behind, you know? I’m sick of staring at your back…”

Seungcheol licks his lips and it isn’t until he tastes something salty on his tongue that he realises he’s crying.

“I gave you my all, Seungcheol. But I’m not the one you chose to have by your side… Thanks for coming but… this is goodbye.”

White Lines

mafia!Yoongi x Reader

He was charismatic, magnetic, electric, and everybody knew him. When he walked in every woman’s head turned. Everyone stood up to talk to him. He was like this hybrid, this mix of a man who couldn’t contain himself.
I always got the sense that he became torn between being a good person and missing out on all of the opportunities that life could offer a man as magnificent as him. And in that way, I understood him. And I loved him, I loved him, I loved him. 
Lana Del Rey - National Anthem

Warnings: Explicit, explicit sexual content, drugs, if you’re easily triggered don’t read this.

A/N: I don’t know how I feel about this, but I wrote it for so long and this fic gave me such a headache, so I’ll just post it and hope for the best. Feel free to tell me what you think about it and I hope you enjoy!
I’ll post a playlist for you guys as always, because I have some songs which remind me of this story.

Keep reading

She is not your darling
not your porcelain doll
hovering on the edge
close to breakage.

She is not your Persephone
she chose pear over pomegranate
and turned away your crown.

She is not made of ivory
smooth and marbled
pristine white.

She is not your daughter
she does not share your name
or flesh and blood.

She is not your song bird
shipped to you in a box
from the Summer Isles.

She is kissed by fire
but her skin is ice
and her heart is a storm.

She is not made of stone
she is jagged steel
dripping with blood and rage.

She is a wolf
feral, wild, and hungered
longing for the taste
of sinew between teeth.

—  Sansa’ (also known as ‘A Sincere Fuck You, Petyr Baelish’ poem) by A.T.