Adult Bed Time Stories Novels & Stories

The night was cold, and I feared they would catch a cold, but they began to cry out loud on the road. People began to stare, so I had gotten them the ice cream. When they got home, I prepared for them a nice warm shower, and dressed them, making them ready for bed. “I'm craving a bedtime story, Mommy.” Nadia said, as I tucked them in. “I'll tell you one tomorrow. I'm exhausted, okay? What do you think about two bedtime stories tomorrow?” I asked, as a bribe. “Oh yeah! I want Rapunzel and Sleeping Beauty.”

After Amelia left the nursery, Andrew turned off the lights in the room, leaving only a dim night light. He placed Asher in the small bed and picked up a bedtime storybook. "What story does Asher want to hear? 'The Adventures in the Candy House'?" Andrew asked. Asher shook his little head, sitting up from the small bed. His tiny hands wandered through the bookshelf on the bedside table, finally pulling out a book, "Ali Baba and the Forty Thieves," handing it to Andrew. "Tell this one." Andrew opened the children's storybook and started reading.

A subdued silence enveloped the fireplace after Shango’s story, interrupted only by the occasional chirping of the night crickets. “That does not count as a bedtime story,’’ Babybaby finally found her voice. “It is child,’’ the thunder god answered. “No it’s not’’ Babybaby insisted quite stubbornly. “bedtime stories are supposed to be a nice tales with happy ending, all bedtime fairytales are, like the ones Amaka used to read to me, this one is a stupid story.’’

Just as he approached a room’s doorway, he heard Tina and Kara’s conversation drifting from inside the room. “Tonight’s bedtime story is called ‘Tadpoles Searching for Their Mommy.’ The warm spring is here… A bunch of little tadpoles want to look for their mommy… After overcoming all the obstacles, the little tadpoles finally found their froggy mommy. Together, they lived happily ever after…” Tina’s tone was gentle as she read the bedtime story out loud from the storybook to her daughter. Kara lay in her arms, her heavy eyelids already glued together. She struggled to say, “The little tadpoles are very pitiful… I won’t be separated from you, Mommy… Even if we do get separated, I’ll find you

“Seriously Ashley, I might get upset if you go through my messages.” “Dumb boy messages, just let go of me, I don't care anymore.” “Promise?” “Yeah.” She scoffed and he did, she didn't try taking the phone again and he lay beside her. “You should be sleeping, it's late already.” “I know and am exhausted, but I can't seem to fall asleep. Can you tell me a bedtime story?” “Bedtime stories are for kids, not twenty-one-year-olds.” “Just tell me one.” “Okay, I don't really know much so how about I tell you the story of a demon who has lived for over a thousand years.”

I whispered with a loving smile, "which story would you like tonight?" Mathew's face lit up with excitement, his tiny hands reaching for his favorite book. "The one about the brave little wolf, Mumma!" I chuckled as I opened the book, a captivating story about a young wolf's grand adventure. Mathew listened with rapt attention, his eager eyes fixed on the pages as I spun the tale of bravery and exploration. By the time I reached the part where the little wolf found solace under the silvery glow of the moon, my son was already fast asleep.

Then, in a low, even voice, she began telling stories. She told five. Thomas didn't seem remotely sleepy. In the past, by the third story, Theo would already have been asleep. But she knew better than to compare Thomas to him. Thomas's insomnia ran deep; his body and mind refused to rest easily. Patient as ever, Sharon kept going. She had prepared around thirty bedtime stories that night. If none of them worked, she would simply try another approach tomorrow. But the truth was—she hadn't slept much the night before, keeping vigil over him. Now, lulled by her own soft cadence and the drowsy pull of her words, she began to nod off mid-sentence.

To say that I’m screwed would be an understatement. I have another confession to make. I’m currently crouched and hiding under his bed. The very one that he’s occupying. It’s getting late now, almost two in the morning. It’s been raining outside for nearly an hour. Every time I think he’s asleep, he shifts and mutters something in his sleep.

"You know the rules. Bedtime is bedtime. And besides, they probably want to have some grown-up talk." "What do grown-ups talk about?" I think for a second, then grin down at him. "Taxes," I say. "And their boring, boring jobs." Brandon wrinkles his nose in distaste. "Ugh." "Yeah, it's terrible," I say with a mock sigh, "but you have to do it, when you're a grown-up. Luckily for you, you're still a kid. So we don't have to talk about mortgages, and instead, I get to tell you a bedtime story. How's that sound?"

LANDON'S POV:- FIVE HUNDRED YEARS AGO:- I was lying on my bed. A warm light of the candle that was set on a table beside my bed. It was keeping the dark away from me. I was just a kid at that time. I was not even seven. After my mom left the room when she was done with three bedtime stories. I was alone, staring at the ceiling as if I could see the shining stars in the silk black sky. The night looked darker than usual. It was the moonless night. And I always found it difficult to fall asleep in the moonless nights.