Booktok Books That Make You Cry Novels & Stories

So, Rara can be an example. Rate the book🥰🥰🥰🥰. Thanks for reading💜💜💜💜

I love the quiet, the possibility, the way you could lose yourself in someone else's story for a while and forget about your own mess. I went straight to the fiction section, and browsed for a while, pulling out books at random and reading the first few pages. Most of them didn't grab me, but there was one: it's a debut novel about a woman trying to figure out who she was outside of who everyone expected her to be. It made me pause. I read the first chapter standing there in the aisle, and by the end of it, I was really buying it. The cashier was a girl around my age with purple hair and a nose ring, and she smiled when she saw my choice. "That one's really good. It made me cry like three ti

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Well, it's not like I started it. “Ahhh!! What is wrong with me today!” I shouted, jumping onto my bed and flopping down like a little kid having a tantrum. I knew the answer: it was the disgusting sight that fool had forced my beautiful eyes to see. Now I had to sit and eat in front of that man, how did he even do it with that girl, that's probably why she was crying. I guess it must have hurt, which felt truly sickening. The fact that he was the only one who could technically ask for a divorce was so annoying. Maybe I should ask him. Who knows, he might agree to it. —

The bond pulsed stronger with each release, solidifying our connection. Hours later, back within the safety of the manor walls, we continued our explorations in the vast library. Books on arcane lore lay scattered around us as they bent me over a heavy oak table, taking me from behind while I tried to read passages aloud, their thrusts making my voice break into moans. Against the shelves, on the window seat overlooking the misty landscape—they claimed me thoroughly, their stamina as endless as their devotion.

The edges were darkened with soot, the pages wrinkled from heat, but thankfully not burned. I covered my mouth with both hands as tears welled instantly. “No… no…” My knees buckled, and I dropped to the floor, crawling toward it. “Why would someone, why would they do this?” My voice cracked and broke until I couldn’t speak anymore. Alexander knelt beside me, gently reaching into the fireplace and pulling the book out. He brushed ash off the cover and placed it carefully into my trembling hands. I didn’t realize I was crying until hot tears dripped onto the soot-covered pages.

Completely unguarded. And that, more than anything else, unsettled him. Because he could feel it. In his chest. That deadly spark again. He scanned the cover, thumb following the title, then back at her. "Why this one?" "It's a book about sadness," she told him quietly. "But not the kind that cries out. The kind that settles into the space between us." Some dark, wordless flicker showed behind his eyes. He nodded once, palming the book into his coat pocket as if it was evidence in a case he wasn't ready to break yet.

I quickly made my way up the stairs trying not to linger for too long on any of the steps. My bedroom called to me. I knew it wouldn’t be the same. My heartbeat thudded in my ears with every stride. I chewed on the inside of my cheek, trying to psych myself up. I inhaled deeply, knowing I would remember this smell for the rest of my life. I turned the knob and was immediately greeted with a soft breeze coming from the massive hole in my bedroom wall where I was serenaded just eighteen hours ago. My breathing hitched as my eyes drifted to my favorite part of my room, my books. My fingers grazed the spines of my barbecued books. I felt a single tear roll down my cheek as I bid farewell to a pr

And I certainly won’t want that not until I read enough books to get rid of my sorrows. “ How could she do this to me?” I squat in front of the book, tore into two parts. It is as though my heart…life was torn into two parts. I picked it up, as it was soaking with my tears. “ What is wrong with Sage lately?” she was gradually behaving like Lisa, heartless, manipulator.. best at being the victim. Wiping my tears, I tried to fix my book myself, but one thing I am sure of it would never remain as it was.

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