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Bedtime Stories to Read to Your Wife

17 Cute Curt Dearest Stories That Will Make You Smile

Who doesn't love a brusk dear story? Especially the very brusk love stories that tin can be finished during a quick break.

Since the start of human storytelling history, humans accept enjoyed cracking romance stories from Romeo and Juliet to Helen of Troy. Fifty-fifty horror and adventure stories often include a romantic element. Everybody wants to feel some of that romance and reading very curt romantic stories are often a nifty way to quench that thirst.

Whether your favorite stories are cute teen romance stories or vampire beloved stories, at that place is something for everyone.

I've compiled a number of love stories for you to read, all very short and tin bring some of that romantic spark into your life. These are dandy reads whether you're celebrating Valentine's Solar day or just itching for a romantic spark.

You tin can find more of these romance stories on Commaful and Reddit.

The beneath are all excerpts with a link to the full story. Click on the link to support the writers.

Information technology was a glorious, colorful fall.

We'd merely left the coffee store. When we walked by, she had giggled and pulled me inside, saying, "C'mon, let's be basic white girls and get some pumpkin spice!"

I don't like coffee. I never had. But when she handed me my loving cup and looked into my optics while I tried information technology, information technology was the best affair I'd ever tasted.

My manus still tingled where she grabbed it.

As nosotros walked through the park with our drinks, a light drizzle began to autumn. She pulled out an umbrella from her bag, I pulled upwards my hood and hunched my shoulders.

"Don't be featherbrained," she giggled, pulling me under the umbrella with her. I couldn't help but laugh besides, her laugh is infectious.

As the sun started to smoothen once more, she pulled me down to sit down on a demote. She beamed downwards at me, and I could only gaze back adoringly.

"Then Ava…" She began. I knew this tone of voice, information technology's dangerous.

"Who practise y'all like?" She whispered, and I looked away. I wanted to say, 'you, y'all, a thousand times you. You're the only one I can ever recollect about. Y'all're gorgeous and sugariness and funny and…'

Instead, I shrugged my shoulders and looked down at my cup.

She looked at me with a cautious smiling. "If I tell you mine, will you tell me yours?"

"Okay." I said.

"The person I like… …is you."

I drop my drinkable.

Read the unabridged love story

I know you read the description.

And you expect for me to fall in love with yous.

That, or yous already read this story and you just want to see me suffer again.

Information technology'due south hard to come across through the screen… I tin't tell one reader from another, boy or daughter. Non that information technology would matter…

(Blushes deeply) Anyhow, that's not the point.

You should exit.

Why are y'all going to the next slide?

End doing that.

Are you always this stubborn?

I said st-

Don't interrupt me.

Read the total curt romance story

I got married when i was 20 to a man that by all accounts wasn't bad, just he wasn't good for me. Long story brusk, I was married to a loser. He didn't necessarily do anything incorrect, he only didn't do annihilation at all. Now, I am not a "typical woman" if there even is such a thing. I love myself. Sure, there are things I want to improve, but I don't have a problem with my age, or intelligence, or what my body looks like, or my personality- those things that seem to stereotypically plague women just don't bother me for whatever reason. I have a career where I brand more than than plenty coin on my own to live comfortably. I know how to utilise ability tools, set up my own car, and google the shit out of anything else that needs to exist done. I say what I mean, and expect others to do the same, none of this passive-ambitious nonsense. Just I'1000 stubborn as a mule, and marriages are supposed to final, so even though I was the primary breadwinner, and did almost of the things around the house, and raised my kids generally on my own, I still spent 13 years in that worthless marriage. At the terminate of the day, my husband felt like I didn't need him, considering I am very capable. Simply he was wrong. I needed support. I needed a partner, a friend. Even someone who would see how hard I was working to merely go on my head above water. I couldn't manage EVERYTHING on my own; and I yet can't.

For some perspective at how emotionally isolated I was, I struggled with infertility for three years; I had to take tons of medications & shots that made me ill, tired, have hot flashes, body aches, and migraines for those years; not to mention the emotional drain of every month without fail seeing a single pinkish line on that damn stick. The emotion of going through a bulk pack of pregnancy tests, or taking photos of your cousin's child's first birthday (for the child they conceived after you started trying), is just… a lot to bear; I was very open up with my struggles, because i think it helped other people as well. Somehow, my husband wasn't fifty-fifty aware this was a thing that i was needing support in. he had no idea. and information technology's not considering i didn't tell him or directly enquire him. he merely was that thick and lost. he was a five year old trapped as an developed- lacking the ability to give support in that fashion.

And once I had kids, he was actually more of a burden than a help. I spent most of my time walking on eggshells, trying to balance being wearied from a high-need task, making dinner, and praying the kids (who are all-around good kids) didn't do annihilation to "poke the comport" while my husband played games on his phone and mostly ignored them. I spent more time trying to go along them from upsetting him than anything else.

When i finally asked him to please exit, everything improved immediately. I could breathe again. I was free of and so much dead weight. I was so, and so happy to just not-take-him around. It was so much better, I never looked dorsum, and I was ok on my own. Sure, I crawled in to bed every nighttime, feeling ready to plummet at the end of the 24-hour interval. Kids are demanding, afterwards all. Only I was costless. And I was happy.

Merely it wears on yous.

Read the full short story

Paul stared at his married woman beyond the table, noticing for the starting time fourth dimension that her sweater was on inside out. Every morning he would lay out her clothes on the bed in a specific order, then she'd know which item to put on first. Simply it didn't guarantee how Elaine would put on each slice. He'd take to pay more attention earlier they went out.

Their usual waitress, Sarah, appeared, holding a big tray with two sweetness teas on it. "How y'all doin' today?"

With Alzheimer'due south disease, there were skillful days, then there were challenging days. Information technology was ane of the latter. Elaine was preoccupied, scrubbing a stain on the wooden table with her finger, forgetting it was a permanent fixture of their booth. They'd been lunching at this diner in one case a calendar week for years. That blemish had been there since solar day 1.

"Today'south actually a very special day for united states of america. Information technology's our fifty-7th wedding ceremony." His wife stopped fidgeting and looked up. "The 24-hour interval she took a chance on a broke, balding fellow by maxim, 'I do,'" he said with a wink in her direction.

"It is?" Elaine asked.

"Yeah, sweetheart, information technology is."

"Congratulations, you two! Ms. Sue fixed up some of her primal lime pie today and I'll make sure y'all take a piece on the house earlier you lot go. Stickin' with the Cobb salad and tomato soup?"

"That's information technology." Paul replied.

She nodded and turned, and then swung dorsum around. "I just remembered. We ran out of lycopersicon esculentum soup about an hour ago. Craven noodle ok?"

Paul looked at his wife, now scrubbing away at the stain with a napkin.

"Elaine?"

"Hmmm," she said, once more focused on the table.

"They're out of the love apple soup. Do you want chicken noodle? Or a sandwich instead?" She looked confused, so he pointed to the menu and showed her a few other items he thought she'd enjoy, but she was having a hard time picking something new.

Suddenly she began to weep. "I want to become home. Please can nosotros go home?" she begged.

Read the full love story

My mother said that out of all v of her children

I was the easiest infant

I think what she meant was that I inappreciably cried,

Rarely fussed

And was generally asleep

Which I guess was a good thing, for her

Equally the fourth of five she had a lot to deal with before she could get to me

So I made information technology easier for her

I kept doing it as I grew up

If one of my siblings dropped their ice cream,

I'd give them mine so they'd stop making a scene

When someone had to sit in a middle seat

Yous can bet that's where my car seat would exist strapped

In fifth grade, when Clara Gomez stole my cookie from my dejeuner box

I just shrugged, and ate my carrot sticks

My nickname was "montañita", fiddling mountain

Because I was never moved, never bothered, always calm

In seventh grade, I broke my leg

But I didn't tell anyone for three days

I simply gritted my teeth and hopped forth

Until my father found me crying on the bathroom floor

He took me to the hospital, and bought me a cast we couldn't afford

And when the kids at schoolhouse chosen me a cripple

Well, you lot can guess what I did

In high school, my footling sister Sofia was getting picked on by some boys

I pretended I didn't see it happen

But that night, I switched out her too-minor uniform skirt for mine

She stopped getting teased,

And I wore pants for the remainder of the yr

When my college Algebra professor lost my examination and made me retake it, I merely nodded and did it

When I got catcalled walking across campus,

I simply looked down at the ground

And you

The first day you came upwardly to me and offered to purchase me java

I was certain you lot were making fun of me likewise

So I stayed quiet

Somewhen, you flashed me that blinding smile and told me, "Approximate I'll take that as a yes, then."

I think I said about iii words to you that showtime day

Simply I gave yous my number

And answered when you called

Read the brusk story

The impact was jarring. Unexpected. Painful.

Not at all how it is in the movies. Nor the books. Information technology was gross. Gritty. Raw.

His messenger bag had checked her hard in the tum, no dubiety several bruises itching to arise.

Her hot drinkable stained his cream colored sweater, no doubt scalding on his bare hands.

Both umbrellas had been knocked into the dirty puddles, the sheets of pelting unforgiving.

Despite the bone-chilling weather, ruined clothing, and bodily injuries, they couldn't escape the buzzing intensity of a connexion.

Her gaze was locked on the damping hair, wondering if the hue of blond was real. His gaze was pinned to her widening optics, curious as to how many tints of bluish he could place.

Read the rest of the story

This is a story near the start year of my relationship with the girl I love.

I suppose it starts back in July 2017. She was dating my all-time friend at the time, they were in a human relationship for a few weeks and information technology ended on bad terms. While they were dating I had only seen her one fourth dimension, I didn't really say much to her as I am a very shy and socially awkward person. I think I managed to become a few hellos out merely nothing more that.

The next time I met her was on the 31st of October. To be honest I don't actually remember that dark much since I was black out drunk for the bulk of information technology. By that time things seemed to exist ok between her and my friend and that'south how I started talking to her more.

In late November we were all talking in grouping chats, online I am a lot less awkward and am able to talk to other people, and so this was a keen fashion for me to offset talking to her.

As I started to become more friendly with her I started to realise that she'southward non how my all-time friend fabricated her out to be at all.

We started to hang out more, and the more time I spent with her the closer I felt to her. In that location are quite a few people in our friends group, I couldn't quite explain why. But I felt like I had some sort of bond with her, similar I could connect with her in a way that I couldn't with the other people. Normally I hate it when people hug me, but when she did it always felt warm and comforting.

Where our relationship progressed was on new years eve, I had i of my depressive episodes and concluded upwardly leaving all of the group chats I was in. At the time I just felt really alone, equally if I'm destined to never exist happy.

She ended up private messaging me, asking what was wrong and why I was feeling like that. At that place's only a few people that know how much of a shit show my childhood was, I felt comfortable with talking about it with her. And she seemed to have the perfect response to everything. After a while I felt a little improve well-nigh myself and I volition never forget some of the things that she said to me that night.

Read the curt story

I idea I'd had crushes before

There was Carson, who smiled at me in bio

There was Avery, with the beautiful eyes

Merely this girl

God, information technology's like it'southward not even the same emotion

I actually thought I liked the others, I did

I'd blush when they were nearby,

Sit up straighter,

Toss my hair,

Get nervous,

But this daughter takes butterflies to a whole new level

Read the full romantic story

Her eyes, oh her eyes. They got me every time.

They could never be classified as i color. They rebelled, taking on a different hue everyday. Every hr. Every moment. But they always sparkled with this emotion I could never place.

His smile, oh his grinning. It zapped my heart every time.

His smiling was something never to be taken for granted. He rarely showed information technology effectually people, but when he did, oh it was magic. The slight dimple in his cheek revealed his adolescent nature.

But they always drifted from 1 another.

The timing never right. Ane was in a relationship. The other fresh out of one. Both single, but not ready to mingle. Or they would mingle, just with the wrong people. It was similar this for years.

Until this.

It was snowing.

Her car was covered in the hardening white pulverisation. She stared, hopeless. How could she get to work in this condition? A low-cal flurry of snow falls from the sky, wetting her hood.

She sighs, holding a mitt out.

A snowflake lands on her paw, almost immediately melting against her warm palm. A grinning tilts her lips, her tardiness to the office momentarily taking a dorsum seat.

He watches her, his unprotected hair catching snowflakes.

He had come up here to break up with his girlfriend, who'due south name he'd already forgotten. He didn't know she had lived so close to her. Annalise. The one woman he could never have.

At her surprised appearance, he'd dropped his keys.

With his gaze all the same on her, he crouched down, fumbling in the cold snowfall for his motorcar keys. Only later on stubbing his finger, he risks a glance down, swiping them up.

Read the entire love story

*phone call *

Male child: Hey, hun!

Girl: Hey.

Boy: I missed yous at schoolhouse today. Why weren't you lot there?

Girl: Yeah, I had to go to the md.

Boy: Oh really? Why?

Girl: Oh, nothing. Just some annual shots, that's all.

Boy: Oh.

Girl: So what did you guys practice in Math today?

Boy: Y'all didn't miss anything that great, just a lot of notes.

Girl: Okay, good.

Male child: Yeah.

Girl: Hey, I have a question to ask.

Boy: Okay, ask abroad.

Girl: How much practice yous beloved me?

Boy: Yous know I love you lot more than annihilation in this globe.

Girl: Yeah.

Boy: Why did y'all ask?

Daughter: *silence*

Male child: Is something wrong?

Girl: No. Nothing at all. Um. How much practise you care nigh me?

Boy: I would give you the world in a heartbeat if I could.

Read the full story

Some people like to say "everything happens for a reason."

Simply I think that's bullshit.

Was in that location a reason the love of my life died in a automobile crash at 23?

I didn't retrieve so. I told yous. Bullshit.

Eric and I were the type of couple that beat all the odds.

Nosotros made it through long distance. We fabricated it through moving cities. We made information technology through the expiry of his mom. Through all the change, our beloved was 1 constant I could rely on.

Our routine used to go like this;

I'd wake upwardly at 6:45 in our shitty footling bed in our shitty petty apartment in NYC.

He'd already be upwards, of grade. He's an early bird.

I used to hate mornings.

I could inappreciably elevate myself out of bed to the scent of the breakfast he was making me.

Now I stumble out of bed right away. There'due south no use trying to stay longer in a cold, empty bed, all past myself.

I'd go to work, exist home effectually 5:00.

Eric didn't get abode until half-dozen:00, and so I'd brand dinner.

Lasagna was his favorite. I e'er complained about how much work it was and didn't make it enough.

If he was still here I'd make lasagna every night.

After dinner, we'd picket Television receiver, or play video games, or read our books. E'er in the same room.

Sometimes we wouldn't do anything, just sit and talk for hours. Eric was always not bad to talk to.

Read the entire story

This is the story that changed my life. The best style to explicate it is from the begining.

I was 15. I had an anxiety assail. I was growing upward and was habitation schooled due to some previous problems with traditional schools. My mom and my late uncle (I miss you, uncle Bob) took me to the hospital. I remember ripping my ID bracelet off more a couple times because I didn't desire to be there. I didn't know it at the time only I needed help. This is the story of the residue of my life.

I spent 11 days in a children'due south mental ward named P78. I met quite a few friends at that place and during my home schooling that helped shape my story. Little did they know at the fourth dimension how much they would affect me.

I need to backtrack a lilliputian bit for this to make sense. The friends I met during home school would always talk to me most this daughter they knew that nicknamed "lexicon" because she was then smart. They always tried to become united states of america to meet but it never worked out. We were both a fleck bellyaching at their attempts so eventually they tried to trick us into meeting. I was brought to her house a few times merely she was "never home". In reality she was hating and just didn't want to meet with people. They called her on the phone and had me speak with her a few times. Again, we were a chip annoyed at their attempts. Shortly after this is when I was admitted to the hospital.

A doctor at the ward recommended a schoolhouse, Eleanor Gerson high school. It's a school for troubled teens. It'southward for kids who accept mental problems that may give them trouble in normal schools. My starting time year went off normally. I fabricated friends, got good grades, and was generally happy. In my second year I met her.

Wink forward to Freshman orientation of what concluded up as my inferior year. We were going through meeting the new kids with everyone introducing themselves and giving a bit of history of who they are. I saw her there. She had long black hair and was dressed in what at the time was the latest gear from Hot Topic. My buddy (who volition non be named just like most others in this story won't exist) recognized her. He had me mention a mutual friend of him and the daughter to help pause the water ice.

A couple days subsequently the charabanc ride home from school, I asked her what she thought of her outset few days. I got a cold response along the lines of "I just got here, how can I take an stance?" She tried to push me away but it was too late, I was already smitten. A couple months afterwards she came with me to get myself a new pair of glasses. I was feeling bold and told her flat out "you're my girlfriend now".

Over the next couple of years we had a few ups and downs simply stayed together for the most part. That is until she wrote me a letter of the alphabet. Her own past and insecurities were getting in the way of the states being a "normal" couple. She needed to break it off to clear her heed.

I was devistated, but I had to move on. I was taking college prep classes and somewhen had enough credits to simply exist coming to schoolhouse a couple days a week. We saw each other less and less.

Read the rest of this story

Butter

Sugar

Flour

A compression of cinnamon

"It looks delicious babe"

I turned effectually to meet my husband backside me

"What are yous making today?"

I smiled and pointed to the recipe on the counter

"Cinnamon bread? Y'all spoil me"

I smiled again, and he placed a kiss on my bare shoulder

"How much longer do you accept on these?"

I glanced at the clock, doing the math in my caput

I held up 10 fingers

"Alright, I suppose I can await"

I cocked my head at him, raising an countenance

"No, no, I'll wait till you're done. End your bread."

I shook my caput at him fondly, pouring the batter into the can

"Hey"

I looked back at him

"Yous're pretty"

I rolled my optics, sprinkling the crumb topping over the batter

Every bit shortly as I placed the tin in the oven, I felt his arms wrapping effectually me

Read the unabridged romantic story

The clock had long ago struck twelve, and Helm Damien Rathbourne, Earl of Coulter, had developed a ferocious crawling in his left leg. As that leg had been amputated over a twelvemonth agone, he had no choice but to suffer in discomfort. The itch, of course, was the to the lowest degree of his pains. This evening, the small things festered: women fastidiously avoided his eyes; conversations politely fixed on the weather rather than his health.

Half-foxed and wholeheartedly tired, he longed to leave. And yet at this late hr, guests still arrived. The latest announcement — Countess Something-or-Other — was a disaster. Her orangish hair was twisted into a careless bun from which strands were already escaping. Her gown was outmoded, and her figure leaned towards chubby. Equally she walked down the stairs into the ballroom, she slipped on a step, and crashed into a gentleman. A ghastly silence swept the ball; a woman tittered.

"Unbelievable," Damien muttered to himself.

Lord Darby, who stood near him, bandage him a shocked look. "Countess Fraser? She'south a goddess."

Damien's gaze flicked back to the Countess. She had picked herself off the flooring and appeared to be apologizing, her hands gesturing animatedly. She didn't seem to be a beauty. "If y'all call up so, yous shouldn't take much competition for her."

"Are you mad? Countess Fraser could have her pick of any homo."

"She's an Incomparable?" Damien was dubious.

""Course not," Darby remonstrated. "I can compare her to loads of girls. She only comes out on top, is all."

"She's an Original, and then."

Darby waved his hand in deprival. "No. Originals are all alike — snooty girls who call back that wit and insult are synonymous."

"Well-dowered?"

"Penniless, if rumor holds true."

"Highborn?"

"Before she married the at present-departed Count Fraser, her people were nobodies."

"Connected to the grand dames of London club?"

"And then far equally I tin can see, the women all hate her."

"She's a goddess?" Damien frowned dubiously.

"A goddess." Darby affirmed. "Non Aphrodite, of course. But a goddess of little things gone correct. You can't understand unless you encounter her."

Damien shifted his weight from one crutch to the other. After Vitoria, it was every bit if his human being interactions had been amputated along with his leg. His cohort stopped speaking to him of sport and war, and gradually withdrew from him altogether. Damien was suddenly furious with the purported goddess. He had everything but his leg, and nonetheless could find no one. This mysterious woman had nothing and notwithstanding overjoyed everyone. He suddenly wanted to testify that she was like every other girl at the ball. She would be wretched. Conniving. And in a higher place all, she would exist unable to encounter his eyes.

"Well," he said, striving to hide his anger. "Why don't you innovate me then?"

Damien felt every eye in the ballroom carefully choose to look in another direction every bit he crutched his way across the ballroom. He could move at a reasonable clip; Darby barely had to tiresome his pace. The little things, however, irritated. Young maidens magically waved to friends across the room every bit they registered his direction; they dashed away lest he should corner them. Men fixed their gaze on some far away point. Damien gritted his teeth and clumped along.

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Her pilus swayed in the breeze, tickling the back of her cervix

She was lounging in the hammock, under the tall beach tree

I could simply meet her dorsum from where I was standing, just by the curvature of her neck I guessed she was reading

It had been 175 days since I'd last seen my wife

And at present I was frozen, unable to motility

She looked so peaceful, and so beautiful

So soft and distinctly unlike from the agile war zone I'd merely left

And she didn't know I was home

-Layla-

I spent most of my evenings in the hammock, enjoying the late August sun

Today I was reading, but sometimes I'd knit, or draw, or just lookout man the birds

I was trying to take my mind off the fact that it was my second wedding anniversary today, and I had no married woman to spend it with

Merely of a sudden I head a audio behind me, and turned my caput

"Jasmine!" I cried, all but falling out of the hammock

She gave me the biggest grin I'd ever seen every bit she ran to steady me

I threw my arms effectually her, burial my face in her neck

And I started to sob with relief

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The voices and footsteps from the stage echoed back into the wings, and the familiar nervous exhilaration prickled beyond Lainie's skin, raising goosebumps on her bare forearms and rousing collywobbles beneath the tight lacing of her gown. She had thoroughly enjoyed her tv piece of work this past year, merely she'd missed the visceral, os-deep thrill of theatre. There was zero quite similar performing live.

She inserted the tip of her little finger beneath a ribbon and pulled hard. The Jacobean corsetry, notwithstanding, she could exercise without. Her 1920s costumes for Knightsbridge might be hellishly unflattering on anyone with hips, but they didn't squeeze her internal organs.

A flare-up of laughter from the audition eased a fraction of the tension from her cervix and back. When the crowd was having a good fourth dimension, and was generous in showing information technology, the energy was infectious.

Information technology was withal surreal that she was continuing hither, surrounded by and so much history that the walls seemed to resonate with words and fretfulness and ghosts.

She wasn't kidding herself. She'd been offered this festival part so the public could pay to watch her publicly insult and snog her husband, not because the director had watched her jiggling through the Charleston on boob tube and been struck with the vision of his ideal Beatrice, but whatever. She hadn't been most to reject the about famous theatre in London. And Much Ado About Nothing was one of her favourite plays, and then it checked off two career goals in ane contract.

Although it might have been better if the product squad had picked ane of Shakespeare's bloody, vehement tragedies for the gala run. Pressing her palm against the wooden beam next to her, Lainie leaned her cheek against her mitt and listened to the faint strains of the deep cadence of Richard'southward vocalisation. The butterfly wings beat harder.

He really was a brilliant player.

Inspiring to every other performer on the stage.

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They said that commencement kisses are special…

And they are for that sure special person

Yes… information technology is… but I lost it to someone…

To someone… who is not to "special" to me

I lost it to that certain bad male child…

To a boy named Jake… but he prefered to be called as Jax

He was an egotistic, conceited playboy slash bad boy

And if you're asking on how I lost it?

His friend playfully pushed him to me…

And subsequently a split second… our lips touched.

They said that when you have had experienced your start kiss

You'll experience the butterflies fluttering, the sparks flashing. But I felt nothing… as if it wasn't anything special….

Read the full very brusk love story

— — —

I read besides many romance stories to count as it is my favorite genre. If y'all enjoyed these, I'd recommend checking out these links: Commaful and Reddit.

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Source: https://medium.com/@pluzoo1/17-cute-short-love-stories-that-will-make-you-smile-33de2a66e387