Kimmy Smosh Novels & Stories

Despite her usual wise and capable demeanor, she now looked every bit the aggrieved young lady, her clear, wet eyes brimming with anger, obviously waiting for Sally to comment. Sally couldn't help but chuckle. Kimberly, hearing her laugh, shot her a sideways glance. Sally stopped laughing, straightening her expression, "They're just keyboard warriors, don't take it seriously." Kimberly took a deep breath and put down the tablet. Although her wedding had been grand, not even a single photo of her face was revealed then, and there were hardly any pictures of her online. She couldn't fathom how they concluded she was a 'plain Jane.' It was utterly intolerable.

“I know it's not because you think I'm not responsible enough. I mean, you don't even know me.” “Neither do you.” “Kimberlee Smith. Thirteen foster homes, like her coffee with both milk and sugar. Waitress and low budget journalist. Has two best friends and lives in a cheap apartment.” He stated. “Now you go.” Kim adjusted in her seat, trying to think of a reply. He was fucking right, she knew nothing about him. “Santos, likes black coffee. Likes it when my hair is up.” She finally spoke. He slightly turned to look at her.

"Her name is Kim. She is the adopted daughter of the Swann family, a master of national design. She is also the top liberal arts scholar in colleges! She's the next school flower." "Kim? Last time, the photos of Swann's family, were so ugly. Are you sure it's the same person?" After the last hot search at Laura's funeral, some people began to rumor that Tami was the little lover of Kevin, which had seriously damaged his reputation. Kevin spent millions to bring down the hot search and issued various statements and lawyer's letters to warn him.

“but nobody cares. You can watch me and Kim run. Kim is also an Omega.” “Great! I’d love that.” I grinned, grateful that she didn’t judge me like the Dark Stone pack members. Chloe wore her sweatpants and sweatshirt before we left to catch up with Kim, a gothic-looking female with short black hair and dark eyes. The wings of her eyeliner were long and scary; her black eyeshadow and black lipsticks made her eyes and lips pop grisly. “Hey, who’s the chick?” Her voice was very deep and more frightening than her looks.

Miss, I don't even know you! Still Jake was polite. She looked pretty lost, after all. "Yes?" The smile on the young girl dimmed when she saw Jake's expression and heard his tone. He sounded like he didn't even have any impression of her. But... but we have talked so many times... the girl couldn't help but feel disappointed. "Hi. I'm Kim... from the bookstore."

I sign, then realize the futility and pull out my phone to type instead. Before Raymond can answer, a voice cuts through the morning air—high-pitched, saccharine, and instantly recognizable. "Good morning, everyone!" No. Please, no. I turn slowly, already knowing what I'll see. Kimberly sashays toward us, her blonde hair perfectly curled despite the early hour, wearing skin-tight leggings and a crop top that shows more skin than is practical for a tracking mission. Her lips curve into that practiced smile, the one that never reaches her eyes.

Don't wait for me. She tried calling him, but his phone was already off. Then a message from a friend popped up—a screenshot of a social media post by Lotta Anderson, the underprivileged student Kimberly had been sponsoring. [Got praised today! To celebrate my first period without any leaks, Mr. CEO says we gotta party it up.] The nine-photo grid showed Richard smiling warmly, tenderly fastening a stunning sapphire pendant around her neck. The post was geotagged at a romantic couple's hotel.

My man she mouths and shakes her head. Currently she's wearing short shorts, a faded t-shirt, and her thick auburn hair is pulled back in a messy ponytail. My nose twitches at the memory of her hair tickling my face as I held her through the night. She isn’t wearing any makeup and her feet are bare. She's more fucking beautiful than she was in that gold dress. "So you're my Kimberly Ann's boss?" Oscar, Kimbra's dad, asks. I take a deep breath. "Not technically. Kimbra works in the human resources department. She answers to a manager, not to me."

There was the faintest hint of a smile tugging at his mouth, though whether it was amusement or something else, I couldn’t tell. Kimberly spotted him too, and just like that, the frost in her voice thawed into something sweet and practiced. “Oh… Blackwood. I didn’t see you there.” I had the distinct feeling she’d just decided to turn this into a performance. I had always known Kimberly to be a nomophone, but what I didn’t know was that the habit had escalated into something almost consumable. I hadn’t seen her in over a year, and finding out how chronic her phone obsession had become tugged sharply at my chest.

😹😹😹😹😹😹 Follow my social media too. @tarmah__ on Ig @tarmah___ on tiktok Okay bye...