Damian Robin Costume Novels & Stories

He whispered into my ear as he hugged me tightly from behind. I suddenly turned around and hugged him tightly as I bawled my eyes out while he stroked my back gently… It hurts so much but with him by myself I was able to get it off my chest… Damian kept hugging me till I felt much better and together we walked outta the morgue wearing tight black coats and shades.. Damian was clad in a black denim Jean which was ripped on the knee, a black shirt and a coat.. Same thing goes for me, I wore a black body con dress with black boots and a black coat also..

I threw myself into the celebration to distract my nerves—greeting guests, checking on the kitchen, ensuring Dorian’s birthday cake was prepared exactly how he liked it: moonberry cream with honey glaze and tiny edible stars sprinkled across the frosting. As the sun dipped lower into the horizon and the grand hall lights dimmed for the evening portion of the celebration, the music shifted. A soft, melodic tune began to play something slow and romantic. Not what I expected for a toddler’s birthday. I furrowed my brows, turning toward the source of the music, when Damian appeared. Tall, dressed in obsidian-black ceremonial robes embroidered with silver, his long coat flaring behind him like wi

and another boldly proclaimed, "I LOVE YOU, MY DAMIAN." Okay, this is so dramatic. Suddenly, the walls echoed with screams. “Oh our idol, Damian!!!” the crowd roared. I lifted my eyes and saw Damian climbing up the stage.Now I get to experience how much people love, and are obsessed with me, firsthand. He wore a black jacket, black vest, black denims and boots to match. It gave a cow-boy style. Stage light flashed around him, and the pure gold jewelries he had on further accentuated his glow.

Her tein brother Silver was wearing a black suit with silver inner and black shoe, he looked like a prince in his outfit Gold looked at him and asked " do you have to always put the color of our hair on every cloth we wear?" Silver smirked " what? don't you like it?" Gold didn't say any thing again and told them to stat leaving, they both got into their dark blue twenty twenty one toyota camry and drove off. ............................... Damian finished wearing the suit grand ma lait brought for him, the suit was black with black inner and black boe tie, grand ma laite knew how muck Damian loved the black color, if it were another color Damian would never wear it, Damian walked into the h

She had wrapped herself in a long, white silk robe, tying the sash tightly around her waist. Damian was already out of bed. He was standing near the large windows, fully dressed in a crisp white dress shirt and dark suit trousers. He was buttoning his cuffs, the morning light catching the sharp, authoritative lines of his face. He looked like himself again, the ruthless CEO preparing to step back into his world.

Damian As we’re sitting here in church everyone is silent. Not a single person wants to get on Skulls bad side and I don’t fucking blame them. He’s ruthless and doesn’t give a shit if we’re 1% or not. His word is law and that’s that. “Your club looks good D.” He looks over my members who are all giving their best scowls. “None look like their gonna shit themselves.. yet” He lets out a scoff and then sets his eyes on me.

It made me giddy to think of the letterpress invitations and the ripple effect this night would send through our small, hungry city. And yet, even as I delighted in it, my eyes hunted the crowd. Vanity and vengeance are close cousins; where one is indulged, the other sits politely, waiting to be invited in. Through a tint of feathered masks and glittering shoulders, I saw him—Damian. He stood near the bar in a plain suit, the kind of dark cut that said he had dressed in defiance, not decorum. The tie was anemic. No mask. No flourish. He looked like a man who had been asked to play a part and refused to dress for it.

Then the double doors at the back of the briefing room slammed open. Every camera whipped around. He walked in. Damien. No cuffs. No prison jumpsuit. Just gray joggers, a plain black t-shirt, hair a mess like he’d been running his hands through it for hours. His eyes were dark, stormy..,equal parts fury and something rawer. Worry. Exhaustion. Jaxon and Gerald flanked him, plus three other men I didn’t recognize, and a woman trailing close behind. We all screamed his name at the same time, hugging each other in celebration.

Damian said, smiling as he went through his bath. Entering his bathroom, Damian stripped off his black gloves, took off his shirt and trousers, and prepared for his bath. After he was done, he came out of the bathroom and dressed in sleeping wear. His phone rang, and he took it from the shelf to see who was calling. "Boss, should I arrange for any lady for you tonight?" Jeff Brody asked. Damian was in no mood for any woman. "No. Contact the Dawson family and let them know about my offer," he said.

she said and strutted away. “Look at her walk like a wingless chicken. I should smack her head,” Nelo sneered. Climbing down the stairs and I saw Damian at the foot of it. My heart caught. He was standing beside his uncle and he looked so…dashing. Crisp white long sleeved shirt adorned with a bow tie and black pants. All the time I saw him, his hair was usually combed to the sides but this time it was parted in the middle highlighting his perfectly straight nose.