Adult Bedtime Stories For Sleep Novels & Stories

After I coaxed Leah to sleep, Jayden told me to go to his bedroom to tell him a story. However, I didn't know what happened to Jayden today. I told him a lot of stories, but he still refused to sleep. In the end, I was sleepy. Looking at the clock on the wall, it was almost 11 o'clock. I helplessly looked at Jayden and asked, "Why don't you sleep tonight, Jay?" My saliva had dried up. I really didn't know why the little guy's big round eyes were still so energetic. To my surprise, Jayden got into my arms and hugged my waist, saying, "Mommy, I might be too excited today. You're here in my bedroom today to tell me stories at night. That's great!"

I would be damned if I only instructed them and left. For a million years, my order would only accumulate dirt, as Ethan and Ezra would bury themselves in their video games and Emily would baby Penny. “Mum, tell us a bedtime story.” Ezra pleaded. Defeated, I began my tale of the legendary Wolf's King and his Luna. It happened to be their favourite story, and they never grew weary of it. In less than ten minutes, they were all fast asleep, like wasted adults. I tucked them into bed and watched them sleep for a while before turning off the light.

At this point, I could not stand being married to him anymore. Ava got up and cupped my hand in her tiny palms. “Mommy, I’ll take you to bed to get some sleep. The teachers at kindergarten always tell me that you should get some sleep if you're tired!" I felt much better when I noted how loving Ava was. With that, we went to bed. I covered us with a blanket and laid side by side. I read bedtime stories to her—something I would never run out of to tell her. At some point in the night, the rhythm of her breathing became faint and steady.

He’s been catching up on so much work recently and I can understand why, having to run a big company like his is a lot to handle. Preparing Ariana for bed, I made her brush her teeth and change into a comfy outfit before I tugged her into the bed. I was about to wish her goodnight when she said, "Mommy, can you tell me a bedtime story?" "Maybe next time, baby, I don’t have any storybook with me right now," I said. "Ohh, ok," she sighed. I didn’t want her to be sad, so I said, "But I could think of a story to tell you."

As Skylar squatted down in bed, laughing at their tiredness, Andrew and Anna also sat up, resting on their pillows. She said, "Bedtime story, bedtime story. You love to listen to bedtime stories. Do you not?" For a moment, they both nodded their heads. I was standing by the doorstep, close to the point of unconsciousness. I was noticing Skylar guessing that I was still with them; I was quickly becoming lost in their gaze. It was a pleasure to have these adorable, intelligent kids around. I blushed as their lips moved gently, ready to question their mother, but Skylar asked them to remain quiet until she finished telling the bedtime story, sealing their lips with her fingers.

And I will fly so high away from all the abuse. "Wow, it's so beautiful! You'll read more for me insha'Allah. This will be my bedtime story in our case, bedtime poem." He mumbled gently, pressing her more into his chest. They said their prayers and fell into abyss of dreamless slumber.

“Here, Daddy.” I laid down next to them, and when I started to weave a story about the animals on the ceiling, Naomi linked our fingers together, while Becky laid her head on my arm. Just like that, all the stress from the day was gone, and I knew that no matter what, I was never going to miss another bedtime story.

It was late autumn when they arrived — the trees skeletal, the air thick with a kind of oppressive stillness that seemed to hum beneath the surface of the world. Emily Carter, a graduate student in folklore and urban legends, had heard the whispers about WildWood all her life. She had grown up just a few towns over and had spent years gathering the old stories: tales of the “vanishing patients,” the “howling trees,” and the “night doctors” said to stalk the forest paths. Determined to separate fact from myth, Emily organized an expedition for her thesis, enlisting a few brave companions:

LUCY'S POV I rolled onto the bed and let out a deep sigh. My life has always been like this, quiet, dull, painfully predictable. I would come home from my boring nine-to-five job, sink into my bed, scroll for a while, sleep, and wake up the next day to repeat the same routine.

Nearby, Max had been sleeping curled up on the couch. Hearing Joshua return, he rubbed his eyes, climbed into his father's lap, and wrapped his little arms around him. "Dad… I'm sleepy. Will you sleep with me?" Joshua glanced at his watch. It was already one in the morning. He picked Max up and carried him upstairs. "It's so late. Why are you still awake? Didn't one of the maids read you a bedtime story?" Max puffed out his cheeks unhappily. "Every night, Mom made me sweet soup before bed. The maids don't know how to, and they don't tell stories as nicely as Mom did. I can't fall asleep."