Quick Bedtime Stories For Adults Novels & Stories

We have become addicted to sleeping in each other's embrace. No matter how much tired he is, he always read a bedtime story for me and our baby to put us to sleep. I am enjoying my life ever than before. I sometimes feel like someone has rewound the time and I am reliving my childhood with my Richie. He is again treating me like his kiddo and I am loving every bit of it. "Richie"

he said softly. He sat on the edge of the bed, his voice low and steady as he began. The story wasn’t anything complicated. Just something simple. Something about a wolf who got lost and found his way back home. But the way he told it— The way the kids listened— It did something to the room. Something I wasn’t ready to name. By the time he finished, all three of them were asleep. Peacefully. Together. I stood there for a moment, watching them. Then turned.

he murmured, writing it like it was a mission objective. She watched him. Focused. Serious. Intent. Like a determined father trying to memorize a world he had missed. “And he likes stories before sleeping,” she added softly. Reid paused at that. “What kind?” “Adventures. Brave heroes. Silly monsters. Anything where someone protects someone else.” He nodded slowly and wrote: Bedtime stories – protective theme. The room felt different now. Not heavy. Not tense. But quiet. “You already had lists for me too?” she asked after a moment.

she blinked. Liam leaned down, kissing her tenderly on the forehead. "I'll tell you a story, and you'll fall asleep soon." Liam swiped the screen while his beautiful eyebrows knitted. "What kind of story would you like?" Gemma slowly closed her eyes. "I'll listen to whatever story you tell." "How about 'The Tortoise and the Hare' or 'Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs'?" "These are too childish," Gemma said with dissatisfaction, quietly opening her eyes.

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.

It is not a long story so I will quickly tell you. It was a very sunny day but Bia had chosen to read the book again instead of playing outside. And as you know, when she saw the world "treasure" her curiosity made her read all the rules very carefully. When she finished she first thought that the last rule was written by her own father, because he could not open one eye after 9pm. But most important for her was the last forbition. To explain it we have to go a bit outside and a bit in the past.

"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?"

"I know you're awake, so get up." She groaned sleepily. "James, please, I fell asleep at three o'clock in the morning, so could you please shut up and let me sleep?" she asked, hugging the pillow beside her. "And it's not my fault you didn't go to bed early; we already talked about it, so don't give me that reason. Will you stand there, or will I drag you to the bathroom?" James threatened. She moaned once more. Damn, this jerk! Despite her love for him, there are times when she just wants to torture him. Does he not notice how sleepy I am?

Saturday was forty-eight hours away. I had two days to pretend I wasn’t terrified. Two days to pretend I wasn’t about to walk into a cage with something that wasn’t human. Two days to pretend seventy thousand dollars was worth whatever was waiting for me. Saturday morning I spent playing with Noah on the living room floor. Building towers with his blocks. Kissing his chubby cheeks. Telling him stories about brave princesses who always came home. Liam watched from the kitchen table. “You’re leaving tonight,” he said. Not a question.

I sighed. His black loungewear contrasted with the cream-colored bedsheets. I walked over, gently plucked the book from his grasp, and held it up with mock disapproval. I sat beside him and suggested, "Instead of reading, how about I tell you a bedtime story?" Amusement flickered in his eyes. "That drink is hitting you pretty hard," he said with a smirk tugging at his lips. I waved away his comment and patted my thigh invitingly. "Come on, it will put you to sleep fast! Don always liked to rest his head on my lap, and often fell asleep like that..."