Emotional Support Coffee Novels & Stories

He definitely was bossy with Sam, his housemate. "Cream, no sugar." "Where is it?" "Around the corner to the right. You'll find it." Funny, but I might have the flip side of the same fetish because it turns me on to fetch his coffee. Grateful for the expenditure of the manic energy that's ruling me, I slip out of his office and make the coffee. It's freshly ground beans from peet's and there's real half and half in the fridge below. I make myself a cup too, and head back, just as his secretary arrives. If looks could kill, I'd be twenty pieces on the floor. "Don't worry about his coffee," I say breezily.

Around here I doubt that someone is coming to rob us, but it is better to be safe. He lets go of me and closes the door when I finish coming in. "Let's go have coffee." I think we have a lot to talk about. I put an arm around her shoulders. "Maybe it's a little late for coffee." How about a water chocolate? —It refers to liquid chocolate, which is almost a national anthem. It is nothing more than a chocolate with sugar, a pinch of salt, more water than chocolate tables and perhaps a cinnamon stick. It is the breakfast of the poor, as some call it. I call it delight.

Robin deadpans. I sigh heavily while pulling my phone from my bag. Meanwhile, the twins disappear behind the counter. A minute later, Wren returns carrying a massive cup of coffee while Robin follows with a slice of cherry pie. They set everything down in front of me before sliding back into the booth beside me. “There,” Robin says firmly. “Emotional support pie.” I huff another tiny laugh. “And emotional support caffeine,” Wren adds. I look between the two of them, emotion welling in my chest again for an entirely different reason now. “You guys are too good to me.”

None of them were like their parents. “Magda, I am having dinner with my mom later this afternoon. There is a coffee shop about a block from the shopping center you are at. They have the best coffee in the state. It’s a shop where they support fair trade coffee and do partnerships with impoverished countries to support women in industry. It’s my mother’s favorite coffee shop and I often come here to get her coffee before I get to her place. I am here now actually. Occasionally, I like to get out of the office and away from the constant parade of people coming to my door and since I was going to Mama’s I stopped here to work for a bit. If you’re willing and feeling a bit brave,” he teased, “t

I was so glad I’d have a few other people to come with us and help make them feel safe, I’m sure they will have never been around this many humans or ANY humans at all in their entire lives besides the brief encounter at Dairy Queen when they were both too filled with the adrenaline of their recent escape to even notice. The barista handed me our 3 coffees in a drink carrier and I tipped generously before driving off, placing mine and Jade’s coffees in the cup holders and handing Emma hers. She inhaled her coffee deeply and looked like a kid on Christmas. “I can’t wait to try it!” She shouted a bit too loudly for such a tight space.

I show up at the office Monday morning looking like someone who hasn’t slept, and also possibly fought a small battle on the way here. Callie spots me from across the open floor and her eyes go wide. She’s already holding a paper cup in one hand, pink cardboard box in the other, and she rushes toward me in her strappy heels like I’m a wounded animal. “Okay,” she says, eyes scanning my face. “I brought your usual and your emotional support donuts. What the hell happened?” She thrusts the coffee into my hand before I can respond. I take a sip. Too much almond milk. Barely any espresso. And a splash of vanilla syrup. Perfect, just the way I like it.

They’d been through everything together, and his presence always managed to bring out the best in her, no matter how stressful her day was. “Eli!” she exclaimed, jumping up to give him a quick hug. “You know, the usual: too many deadlines and not enough coffee. He chuckled, his eyes twinkling. “ I brought you something to fix that.” Elijah held up a large cup of her favorite coffee from the café down the street, a gesture that warmed her heart. "You didn’t have to come all the way here just for me! “Well, you’ve been working nonstop, and I figured you could use a little caffeine break. Plus, I couldn’t resist seeing you,”

I need to ask for help. What if I seek help from Max? Maybe he can help me. I can give my body to him as collateral. He can do whatever he wanted to do with this flawless body, right? I need to see him now so I can have his answer too. We can be sex partners. I decided to buy him a coffee at the shop nearby so we can have a nice conversation while drinking it. I bought mocha flavor since it's one of my favorite. I'm in front of his office door while holding the coffee I bought outside.

“Are You worried about me? “ He said, teasing her. “I didn’t worry about my half-broken sister, before coming here. Why will I worry about you? “ Ayat looked at Him as he had gone mad. Arham nodded His head as He admitted He was mad. He finished His remaining coffee in a single gulp and stood up after putting cash on the counter and walked away from there. Ayat started at His back with worried eyes but hurriedly divert her gaze down to cup after seeing Him turning around on His heels and walking back. “What will you do if I won? “ His curious voice sounded very close to her. She raised her eyes to look at His face, which was very close to hers as He was bent over-the-counter table. For a min

I didn't know if she was ever going to forget him, but at a time, she'd come to accept whatever it is she'll conclude this is. "You haven't come in a while miss Rosewood." The cashier smiled warmly at me. " Welcome. " "Thank you Emily." I smiled heading over to the beverage section first as Miranda had picked a liking towards oat. Funny. Is stopped when I saw a jar of coffee. I didn't need coffee anymore to function, but this was Dante's favourite brand. I knew I missed him, but I didn't know I missed this much. So much that my heart was aching as I stared at the jar.