Tears On Their Own Novels & Stories

I was so mad. I don't know where that madness was coming from. But I feel so heavy that I feel like I might shrink under the ground. I wanted to shed a tear, but nothing is coming out. I wanted to burst into tears, but there was something inside me saying NO! A single tear is not worth it to give to this woman. Raven got near me, and she held my hands while the old woman was shaking in tears.

Biding his time. “I miss you guys,” she muttered quietly to herself as she crossed her legs and felt the soft green grass beneath her thighs. “Life just isn’t the same without you.” A lone tear broke loose and freely trickled down her cheek. She didn’t make to wipe it away because she knew that there were many more to come. So many more that she’d kept locked up inside.

"Giving up already?" That slap alone made a tear spill from my eye, only to attract the attention of the men as they craved the sight. The way I alternatively wipe the tears from my eyes, then grip the sheets and cling to them makes me show my vulnerable side to them. It's such an addictive sight that I can't help but weep and surrender to the unfathomable pleasure they bring me, all trapped and restrained by their muscular bodies as they load my holes with their cocks, causing new tears to flow freely from my eyes.

Every time Zoey felt like the world was grinding her down, Laurence would infuriate her to the point of tears. In an instant, tears welled in her eyes. This instinct wasn’t something that she could control through sheer willpower. Hurt, pain, and grief pulled mercilessly at her with taut strings. All Zoey could do was try to stop her tears from falling. She looked up, attempting to will those humiliating tears back. She felt like her teeth were about to be worn down from how tight she clenched them. But at last, the tears streamed down her face like lines of pearls. Soon, her face was completely damp.

The tears, once foreign and strange, now flowed freely, washing away the facade of invulnerability, exposing the rawness of his emotional landscape. He would not deny himself this catharsis any longer. The tears were not a sign of weakness, but rather a testament to his humanity. They were a reminder that even in a world of gears and calculations, the capacity for love, loss, and longing remained. And so, he let them fall, his emotions pouring forth like a torrential rain, cleansing his metallic shell and nourishing his fragile spirit.

‘Tears are not a sign of weakness,’ my wolf encouraged. ‘Just because our mate doesn’t cry in front of other people doesn’t mean he’s immune to emotions. Our mate prefers to let his tears have no audience. We should learn to cry at the right time and know the difference between tears of strength weakening and tears of not giving up.’

My sight became hazy, clouded by tears and the reflection of the sun dancing on the polished marble beneath my feet. As the pain deepened, tears rained down my face, flowing freely like a torrential downpour. It felt as if a dam, long sealed, had suddenly burst open, releasing a flood of pent-up emotions. Each tear represented the weight of every heartbreaking experience I had endured. They were tears shed for the countless times the woman I considered my mother had subjected me to beatings. They were tears shed for the irreplaceable loss of my Grandpa. And, most importantly, they were tears of anguish over the futile attachment to someone that never truly belonged to me in the first place.

“What the hell am I going to do?” My tears finally slipped free, streaming down my cheeks. I didn’t bother wiping them away. There was no one here to see them anyway.

Wordlessly, he pulls me into him for one of the amazing hugs that he never hesitates to give me. A dam breaks in me and tears start to fall. Tears that I thought I was out of after all of these years. Tears that stopped falling as I fought to survive on my own. After the idea of feeling weak by letting the tears falls leaves me, I begin to feel a little better. Maybe I have just been holding these tears in for entirely too long.

I pressed a palm to my chest, trying to hold myself together, but the pressure behind my eyes finally gave way, and one tear slipped down. I didn’t wipe it. I just let it fall.