Booktok Phone Cases

Today is the day when my boyfriend Caleb agreed to mark me. I even took off my skirt, but he received a phone call before he could complete it. He instantly left me alone on the bed, making me feel extremely embarrassed. I tried everything to contact him, but I couldn't reach him. Then, when I finally called his childhood sweetheart, Susan, to my surprise, Caleb answered the phone. "Susan was scared by a nightmare. I have to stay with her to take care of her. Let's mark another day. And please can we talk later. Susan finally fell asleep again. I don't wanna disturb her rest.” "But this is the seventh time you have postponed marking," I said softly. "Marking can be done at any time, but Susan needs me! Don't you have any humanity, Maria?" He hung up, and I burst into tears. My inner wolf asked me, Caleb is gone, do you still need to mark today? I wiped away my tears and said, "Of course, I will do it.” And I immediately contacted the alpha of the neighboring tribe.

"You foolish bitch, do you really think you can marry Henry?". Her mouth curved into a wicked smile as she lowered her head to look at Ashley. "I am the real daughter of the head of the Browns. You will never become the bright and shinning flower of the Brown family" she let out a low snort "It would have been better if you end up like your stupid mother" she said with an evil grin on her face Ashley tighten her grip on her cloth as she heard Lucia's statement "You will never know what the drug you took was and what I have in stock for you. But one thing I'm sure of is that you enjoy your wedding night in advance" She then took out her phone, and dialed a number. "Are the two street ruffians I have arranged especially for my sister ready? Tell them to come here now." Ashley opened her eyes wide in shock upon hearing what Lucia had said. She knew that Lucia had never liked her. But she didn't expect that her to be this vicious. It seemed that Lucia wanted to drug her and found someone to rape her. Such a wicked woman!

On the day I go to the car dealership to pick up my car, I'm told that the previous salesperson has resigned, so a different salesperson will attend to me. Yet the first thing the salesperson does is say that I paid too little for the car and demand that I pay more to make up the difference. "The other salesperson is truly an idiot. How could he sell a car for 300 thousand dollars in cash? It's no wonder he got chewed out and quit. If you want to take the car, you'll have to switch to a five-year loan with an interest rate of 12%." I'm rendered speechless as he blatantly tries to extort me. "I've already paid and signed the sales contract. You're breaching the contract!" The salesperson scoffs. "So what? The car is with us anyway. If you're not going to pay the difference, don't even think of taking the car with you!" I can't help but chuckle. I calmly pull my phone out of my suit pocket. "Walter, place Mr. Paul Roland's loan application on hold for now. He's earning big bucks for his business. It seems like he doesn't need it anymore."

I had been with Cameron Stevenson for three years, yet he had never marked me. To win back the Silver Moon Pack's Alpha, I agreed to his ridiculous request of mating in the wild. Cameron snapped a pair of silver handcuffs on me and bound me to a tree. My pants had barely come off when his phone rang. It was that Omega, Rebecca Anderson. "Cameron, the pup is sick!" she cried. He pulled out of me instantly, yanked his pants up, and ran. "Don't worry! I'm coming!" I struggled and shouted after him. "Cameron! The cuffs! Uncuff me first!" He was already several yards away when he turned back with an impatient remark. "Just wait! Rebecca's pup is the hope of the entire pack!" I waited an entire day and night. The cold wind cut like blades. The silver cuffs ate into my wrists until skin and blood mixed. Cameron never came back. 'Cameron… Since you couldn't let go of that low-ranked Omega, I wouldn't mind burying the two of you together. You'll never be apart for the rest of your lives!'

Cesare Xandri, the rising gangster of the Nalitan mafia, unexpectedly lost a bet at an elite private casino in Ithel, the kind that smells like cigar smoke and blood money. The penalty was simple, he had to call his hard-to-tame pet. The phone was on speaker. The men circled him, whistling and hooting, waiting to be entertained. He asked what I was up to in a relaxed and amused tone. I replied softly, insinuating he was sinful, hiding my defiance behind innocence and fake devotion. When I finished my insult, the room fell silent, then burst into loud and uncontrollable laughter. The call ended. Less than thirty minutes later, the mansion gates were smashed open. He stormed in smelling of gunpowder, a Beretta still in his hand. He pushed me against the wall furiously beneath the Virgin Mary statue. I leaned into him without hesitation, fingers brushing the heated gun, and I met his gaze without fear. I chose virtue and rejected him in my past life, in return I was thrown into the open sea to die. I intended to be his temptation when I got a second chance at life, I wanted to be a beautiful sin that ends his story under the Cecilian sun.

To prepare for a baby, my wife, Daphne Sinclair, suggested we start working out together and keep each other accountable by tracking our daily step counts. While I was away on a two-week business trip, she ranked first on our Fitbit leaderboard every single night. Then one day, my neighbor suddenly sent me a video. The location tag showed it was filmed right in the parking lot beneath my apartment. "Bro, impressive. Your wife's even hired a personal trainer for her workouts now? That Maybach suspension really hits different." In the video, a pink sports bra I had never seen before hung from the driver’s side window. The car rocked rhythmically, accompanied by Daphne's restrained yet excited breathing. I dialed her number. "Where are you?" Her voice turned soft and coy. "On the treadmill, sprinting. Honey, I'm working so hard for our baby." "Really?" I chuckled. "You've worked so hard the entire neighborhood knows about it." Holding the phone, I said slowly, word by word, "Open the door. I'm bringing you a towel."

My boyfriend, Allen, is a fitness coach who is cheerful, handsome, and has eight-pack abs. After getting together with me, he transferred all his female students to other colleagues and would send me daily check-in photos. In anticipation of becoming his fiancee, I happily prepared for our engagement ceremony. However, two weeks before the ceremony, I discovered a bright red lipstick mark on Allen’s workout pants. I quickly pulled up the check-in photo he had sent me that day. Through the reflection on a dumbbell, I saw a woman standing next to Allen—her lips painted in the exact same lipstick color. Most of the previous photos had flaws, but I had trusted Allen too much to notice them. Looking at his message under the photo, I let out a cold laugh. "Baby, I have to work overtime today to train a male student." He actually dared to deceive me. Just then, my phone rang. It was the wedding planning company confirming the engagement ceremony setup. I quickly responded with a confirmation. The ceremony would proceed as planned—except I had a special surprise prepared for Allen, one he would never forget.

My son spiked a sudden high fever, scorching like a flame under my touch. I frantically dialed 911 for help, but the dispatcher on the line kept repeating questions, dragging it out. By the time the ambulance siren finally wailed in the distance, my son had already grown cold and still in my arms. Less than a year later, my husband and I split up amid endless grief and finger-pointing. I dragged on like an empty shell until one day I got an e-invite to his wedding. The moment I clicked the voice message, my blood ran cold. The bride's voice echoed exactly like that sluggish dispatcher from back then. In a breakdown, I bolted out of the house and got caught in the path of a speeding subway train, plunging me into darkness. When I opened my eyes again, my son's cries pierced the air from the next room, his forehead blazing hot against my palm. My husband thrust the phone toward me. "Quick, call 911! I'll grab a cold compress." My hands trembled as I dialed, and a chillingly familiar voice answered, "Hello, 911 emergency services."

Alaric and I had agreed to elope together. But he changed his mind the moment I signed the papers to leave the pack. Standing outside the back booth at the hotel bar, I overheard him talking with his friends. "You tricked Sophie into leaving the pack just so you could have more alone time with Vivienne? Aren't you worried she'll lose it when she finds out?" Alaric took a lazy sip of his drink. "Why would she? She's so obsessed with me she'd cling to me all day if she could. Tell her what she wants to hear afterward and she'll forgive me, guaranteed." "Besides, Vivienne's family has real pull. That kind of backing could tip the scales in my fight for the Alpha position. Sophie will just have to deal with it." Every word sliced through me until I couldn't breathe. I fought back the urge to storm in and confront him, and turned away instead. Back home, I pulled out my phone and scrolled to the very last contact in my list. "Dad. That arranged mating you mentioned — I accept."

The day I inherited Grandpa's "Peacemaker," I received a call from myself, ten years in the future. "Sienna, don't give that gun to Lorenzo." I obeyed without question. That night, forced to use his faulty Glock, Lorenzo was beaten into a vegetative state during a duel. Guilt nearly broke me, but my parents nursed me back to health. Or so I thought. "You idiot," my future self sneered. "It was a lie to get you on the operating table. They want your heart for your brother!" Finding a transplant agreement in my father's study, I publicly severed ties with the Morettis. Only later, after Lorenzo died from rejection, did I learn they just needed my rare blood, not my heart. I wanted to return and atone, but the phone rang again. "Your parents will kill you for honor. Don't go back." I waited. But instead of assassins, news arrived: the Morettis had been slaughtered by rivals. I bolted for home, only to be mowed down by a black sedan. As I died, I couldn't understand why my future self had orchestrated my end. Then I opened my eyes. I was back at the ceremony.