Sadist Narcissist Novels & Stories

He told her. "After working hours?" Nora made a disgusted face on the mention of Marissa. "Yeah." He nodded his head. Nora looked at her wristwatch. “She better hurry with whatever shitty talk she had to do with you.” She said to her. She becomes really dangerous when she is hungry. Penelope thought to herself. Nate had already left. “I’ll be back soon.” She didn’t want to go. “Only if she lets you leave.” She rolled her eyes and dropped herself on the chair.

There's no way I'm ever leaving with him again while he's angry. “I’m sick in the head, Keila,” Sebastian claims. It's the kind of tone that doesn't hold a single hint of disguise. A voice of despair. A voice of agony. It's not the same tone I used to hear every time he promises not to hurt me again, but a sincere despair. “I’m mentally unstable. Crazy…insane…demented. I'm sick in the head, Keila. I'm clinically diagnosed with Antisocial Personality Disorder. My whole family knows that, including Jordan. A sociopath you might want to call.”

One could call him a sadist too. A sadist is a person who gets pleasure, especially sexual pleasure, from hurting other people, but in Theodore's case, he used to hurt werewolves, not just random humans or vampires. He very well knew that his wolf wanted just his fated mate, so even after finding their mate, he used to fucked other rouge she-wolves to irk Inigo. Not just that, he kept himself away from Liara even though he knew Inigo wanted to hold her, kiss her, and make love with her and planned to have a lot of pups with her, but he didn’t want that.

“Now you sound like Natasha. But she was no sacrifice to Lancaster’s degeneracy. She was his acolyte.” “She was his victim.” He made a noise of frustration—maybe even anger. And spun away from her. “Stop it. I don’t want to hear this.” He curled his hands into his hair. “Why won’t you understand? Can’t you see? I’m ruined and filthy and fucked up. I want the people I love to suffer. Because that’s what turns me on above all else. Control and pain and degradation.” “Yes. I know.” She steadied her breathing. Tried to meet the storm of his fury and pain with gentleness. “You’re a sadist and dominant. And yes, you’ve hurt me sometimes—”

“See? Thαt wαs cαsuαl. Nothing else.” “Yeαh right‚” I teαsed. “Cαsuαl glαnces don’t come with blushing‚ Sαshα. Αdmit it.” “I’ll αdmit he’s the kind of guy every girl should αvoid‚” she shot bαck quickly‚ stomping hαrder on the plαtform. “He’s α nαrcissist‚ α cαsαnovα‚ α totαl commitment-phobe. He probαbly keeps α notebook of women’s nαmes αnd their fαvorite colors just to use them.”

she said with a cocky grin but his grin overpowered hers because she just knew he was about to say something infuriating. "If you ruined this today.. you knew you were completely doomed. Not just you, your company and your friend. And you would've been the reason. How fun would that have been, that thought made me wish that you actually did fuck up, so I could make you watch your world fall apart," Travis said with his sadistic face put on. It made her whole body crawl with the way he looked at her that she couldn't help look away. She kinda liked it, that look on his face, of rivalry and narcissism. She always used to hate that look on someone's face.

Nate was really an asshole and while he was been an asshole, he was also a narcissist. He wanted me to confirm he had said what he said so that he could make sure he passed his message across. Without thinking too much, I burst into a good laughter and I finally caught his face as I broke my laughter, his eyes held a distant sadness and I cleared my throat, forcing myself to go back to work. " I don't know what you want to hear from me, Nate Stuart, " I said, his full name causing wrinkles to form on his forehead. Good. " You said what you said, I heard what I heard, so what's this about? " I asked him and he sighed.

Why did I have to care so much? Dante's performance was convincing for awhile until it wasn't. Men like Spencer and Dante can't be trusted. They are what the world refers to as narcissists. They perform well in front of others, have to be in the spotlight, and always get their way. Dante is just like that now, I didn't see it before because the idea of getting romantically involved was simply unappealing to me. "Dante's a dick and can go fuck himself. I never want to see him again."

"I’m looking for the Dante who said we were our own ruin. Was that just another part of the script?" Dante turned then, and the look in his eyes made her breath hitch. It was the "Intimate Sadism" that defined him—a mixture of agonizing desire and a possessiveness so deep it bordered on the divine. He crossed the room in three long, predatory strides, stopping only when his chest was inches from her face.

And yet, the weight of unfinished business still pressed against her chest. Marco, for once, had actually started therapy. His therapist, Jacob, had begun peeling back the layers of his psyche, forcing Marco to acknowledge his faint narcissistic tendencies. His need for control. His habit of centering everything around himself. The realization was humbling, even uncomfortable. He started to see how Sadé wasn’t wrong all those times she called him out, especially with how he treated their son, Marco Jr. Therapy was forcing him to face himself, and for the first time in his life, he didn’t look away.