Isiah Pacheco Meme Novels & Stories

I look like the discount version of myself. Perfect for tonight. My thumb hovers over the one chat icon that matters most. Bogotá & the Idiots. Their profile picture is pure nepotism energy: Isabella in red lipstick, Tessa with tear-streaked cheeks, Emmett behind them flipping off the camera. Accurate. My last message is still from yesterday. KR: [still alive. stop planning my funeral.] Their replies sit underneath it, lined up like a coordinated attack. ISABELLA: [YOU’RE INSANE]

Following Lucho into the tea room, Isaac went straight to the point, "Go ahead. What exactly are you going to tell me?" Staring at Isaac's indifferent face, Lucho wished that he could rush forward and beat him severely. He took two deep breaths and said with a fake smile, "Myesha likes you. You should know about it, right?" Isaac froze for a second and then said apathetically, "Do you know what you're talking about? She's my sister-in-law." Lucho flew into a rage instantly, "But your sister-in-law likes you!" Isaac sighed helplessly, "It has nothing to do with me."

So sure enough, I keep walking, until I’m able to peer around a corner to see what’s going on down here. I’ve ended up in some kind of basement, the space small, but it’s obvious it’s someone’s personal space, with their belongings strung about, including some articles of clothing. In the centre of the room, is Isaiah, utterly shirtless, punching a sort of makeshift contraption lined with padding, that looks an awful lot like a replica of a human body. For a moment, I’m convinced he’s dreaming. He looks beautiful, sweat glistening across his half-naked, muscles shifting magnificently with every strike he makes against the strange padded figure. His punches are aggressive also, filled with un

Thanks, Isa. Any time! ;) She included an emoji of a smiling yellow-faced police officer, then the eggplant.

Leo said, still smirking hard. “Cut the crap Leo” Ismael demanded, turning away from Leo as he pulled his hands off his facez watching Leo exhale a breath he never noticed he held in “why are you here ?“ Ismael asked, folding his face in order to creat a mean lookz which really never seemed to faze Leo.

Dixie said. “Uh-huh.” Isaac chuckled. “And I watch porn hub for the articles.” There was a light ripple of nervous laughter around the room. “Brother, I think you’re on the wrong website if you’re getting articles.” Isiah told him with a grin. “Are these how to articles?” Israel teased. “Anything our wife wants you to work on?” “Please, for the love of God, do not answer that.” Law pleaded. There was another round of laughter and the tension seemed to lessen in the room.

“I’d read the fuck out of that book.” She smiles, poking me in the cheek obnoxiously. “No one wants to hear about your gross kinks, Diego.” “Don’t kink shame him,” Isaiah says, and we both give him a surprised look. “I mean,” he looks between us, “I know you’re just messing around, but just, in case you’re into…” “Maiming and murder?” I supply with a smile. He rolls his eyes. “Remind me never to support you ever again.”

We are in front of my investors for fuck sake! "Woah, I didn't know that Mr. Cojuanco is this clingy..." I heard someone said. Ismaiah sarcastically chuckled and nodded, "Well, I'm quite protective of my possessions." He said that while looking intently at me, making me almost fell on my knees.

That girl and her mother were pure evil. "So," Isaac brightened up. "I'm hungry. Make me one of those your famous pasta muchacha." He grinned. "What the heck is that supposed to mean?" Isaac hummed and shrugged an 'I don't know'. "You're the chef. I'm not supposed to know these things. Just supposed to eat them." Cackling, Joel got up and slapped Isaac with one of his throw pillows. "Hey! Not the face! You got these recently?" Joel turned to see he was referring to the throw pillows.

“But don’t go labeling me a puck bunny just yet. I have standards.” “No? That’s a damn shame,” Santiago says, stopping just inches from the mesh. Isaac bites his lip, suppressing a laugh that would surely ego-stroke the Alpha standing before him. “I was actually hoping for a souvenir. A photo for the fans... or maybe just for my bedside table.” “I don’t do charity work,” Santiago retorts, though his eyes drop to Isaac’s snug, charcoal-grey Henley. “Not even for a loyal member of the pack?” Isaac hooks a thumb into the waistband of his dark jeans, tugging just enough to reveal the black elastic of his briefs. “I’m wearing the team colors underneath, if you need visual confirmation of my loyal