Booktok Phone Case Novels & Stories

A divine tree that is worshiped by many generations of people in my village grows on the tall mountain located on the village's west. Apparently, the divine tree loves being watered by women's lustful juices. In order to garner the blessings and protection from the divine tree, the village will pick out a woman to serve it every month. Since young maidens are shy and reserved by nature, the juices they secrete aren't enough to satisfy the divine tree. In that case, the village will be plagued by misfortune and disasters. Because of that, there are rumors saying that the divine tree prefers married women instead. All the married women in the village refuse to serve the divine tree. I, on the other hand, yearn to get picked out by the village every day. After all, I'm born to feel pleasure at its height. Unfortunately, my weak husband can never satisfy my urges.

My adoptive parents' long-lost daughter came back. She's a wellness influencer. She eats from crystal bowls she "cleansed." Sleeps with a white noise machine. She will only ride in a custom, climate-controlled car. That's not all. She filled our family's Manhattan law firm with Himalayan salt lamps and energy crystals. The espresso in the conference room? Replaced with gluten-free, organic dandelion root tea. "The energy here is so murky," she'd say. "We need to cleanse the world with love and light!" My guilt-ridden parents gave her everything she wanted. Even my fiancé told me, "Ava, you stole twenty years of her Upper East Side life. Can't you cut her some slack?" The day of the final hearing for our firm's biggest case, the entire court had to wait for her to finish her "emotional cleansing meditation." The judge was furious. I stood up. Delivered a flawless closing argument. I won our client $500 million and secured the future of the firm. But at the party, she had a drunken breakdown, fell into the pool, and drowned. My parents and my fiancé blamed me for everything. "You always have to win, don't you? It was a simple, open-and-shut case. You couldn't even let her have that?" They had me committed to a psychiatric hospital. They destroyed my law license and my reputation. They even had me injected with a fatal overdose of sedatives. I died full of hate. The next time I opened my eyes, I was back. Back to the day she was crying on her Instagram Live, begging for the case. This time, I walked straight into our rival's law firm. This "sure-win" case? I'm going to make you lose everything.

An erotic romance When Elna's father first suggests an arranged marriage between her and Brandon Stark—the hot British billionaire—she is reluctant to go on a date with the man. On realising the dire state of their family business and the stress it puts on her beloved parents, Elna makes the bold decision to go ahead with it. Her family comes first. What she expects is a cold, cordial marriage. What she hopes is for their relationship to eventually lead to something more, as was the case with her parents. Ambitious go-getter that she is, Elna takes it upon herself to make her calm, controlling, anti-romance husband fall helplessly in love with her. But what she doesn't expect is to be drawn into Brandon's BDSM world of chains and whips, doms and subs. Will Brandon's love be more than Elna can handle?

She was an omega without a wolf. A lantern considered weak, deserving to be trampled on, and unworthy of love. When her own mate wanted to make her a prostitute, not a wife, Alexis Clark did the impossible. She rejected an Alpha. Her decision changed everything. Alexis became the most hunted rogue omega in the country, living in the shadows, killing to survive, and hiding among humans. But fate played a cruel joke on her. Her case fell into the hands of Sebastian Sinclair, the most dangerous Alpha in the world, a man who hated omegas and scum after being betrayed by his own mate. What Sebastian doesn't know… The omega he decided to execute is the mysterious girl now living and studying at the same campus as him. When hatred collides with attraction, will they kill each other, or fall in love amidst the destruction?

When Peter, my father-in-law, suffered a heart attack and needed an urgent transplant, the hospital miraculously had a compatible heart. Helen, my mother-in-law and I were overjoyed. We thought it was a blessing from above. However, just as we were getting ready for surgery, Nate, my husband, disappeared with the compatible heart. When we finally reached him by phone, it was Camile, his first love. “Nate is busy prepping for my dad’s heart surgery. Stop distracting him!” Helen was trembling with fury. On her way to confront Nate, she got into a car accident and ended up in a critical condition. I begged Nate to come back and operate on her, but he walked into another operating room. In the end, my in-laws died. Their bodies were donated for organ transplant. It was not until later that I found out that their organs had been donated to Camile’s family.

Two years after breaking up with Evan Grey, my lung cancer finally reached its final stage. At the end of my life, I dragged my aching body to Lake Manco, where we promised we'd come together on the 999th day of our love. In the end, I was the only one who went. As the doctor's calls came in endlessly, no doubt urging me to return to chemotherapy, I silenced my phone and buried the pendant Evan gave me by the lake. "Evan, maybe this is the last time I'll think of you…" As soon as the words left my mouth, a drop of blood from my nose fell into the sand. Then, from behind me, I heard the voice I'd missed every day for the past three years, "Miss, could you please take a photo of me and my girlfriend?"

Penelope Rivera's little boy toy, Theodore Schneider, is throwing another tantrum. She slides the divorce papers across the table toward me. "Just sign them for show. It's to keep Teddy happy." I clench the cuff of my suit and nod in silence. I sign my name in one swift stroke. As I'm walking out, I hear one of her girlfriends teasing, "Samuel's way too easygoing. Does he actually do everything you say?" Penelope takes a graceful sip of red wine and smirks. "Wanna bet?" They bet that I will quietly go through with the divorce at the courthouse, even if my eyes are red with tears. Listening their laughter, I rub my thumb over my phone screen and reply to the message I've just received. "Will you marry me?" it says. "I will."

I am a billionaire titan who controls the world’s medical supply chains. With one phone call, I can bring an entire city’s healthcare to its knees. In the boardroom, I am the queen they all fear. But eight years ago, I was nothing. They said a girl like me was lucky to have even breathed the same air as a Harrington. I was the "placeholder" wife of Ryan Harrington, a man whose family name carries the weight of a dynasty. To the Harringtons, I was a nameless girl from the gutter, a woman Ryan married and discarded like a piece of trash. His mistress threw me out into the winter night, pregnant and penniless, expecting me to wither away and die. But you can’t kill a woman who has nothing left to lose. I used to pray for his love. Now, I’m coming for his empire.

I sat in the driver's seat as the GPS chimed, "You've arrived at Northpoint Corp. Check-in successful." I looked up. Graves. Nothing but graves. My phone buzzed. My boss tagged me in the group chat: [Zane Zander, system says you checked in ten minutes ago. Where the hell are you? The whole company's waiting. Learned how to spoof your GPS to slack off?] Cold sweat slid down my back. I stared at the fresh headstone outside my window. My photo was on it. My hands shook. I tried to send my boss a video—no signal. Just dead bars. No service. So how did I check in? Worse— In the rearview mirror, someone in my exact outfit rose slowly from behind a dirt mound. Could it be... Was I already "dead"?

My name is Elena, and I died at twenty-two. My parents forced me to take my foster sister’s place and traded me for a territorial alliance. My mate was the most volatile heir of the wolf packs. Beaten bloody and fading fast, I made my eighth call for help. At my adopted sister Seraphina’s birthday party, she played the recording of my final, groveling plea—and laughed. My parents listened to those desperate calls with nothing but irritation, dismissing each one as theatrics, an inconvenience unworthy of their time. My brother snarled over the phone, “Then just die already!” So I did. In the end, it was my three-year-old daughter who made the final call—using her smartwatch to video my mother, live-streaming the freezer where my severed head lay. Now, my spirit watches from above as they all, one by one, begin to unravel.