Friends Possessive Novels & Stories

I frowned slightly frustrated by his possessiveness. “I can be friends with whoever I want, Richard. I won't let you dictate every move I make.”

Adrian was just my best friend. But even as the thought formed, it crumbled. No. He wasn't just my best friend. That label, once so comforting, now felt like a cage, a denial of something far deeper, far more consuming. Why did I feel like I wanted to own him? The possessiveness was visceral, raw, and utterly terrifying in its intensity.

"I live in your house; I don't know if that counts. Besides, how can that hurt you? I'm a free girl." "In that you are mine alone! From this moment on, I forbid you to be seen with this man or anyone else. Do you understand?" he asked in a domineering tone, and she opened her eyes wide in the face of this attack of possessiveness. To have been not to possess. You can have what you don't want. Possession is having and enjoying what you have. José Saramago.

“We've had lunch together twice. And we were not cuddling. It hard to cuddle over rice in a public restaurant" I wanted to chuck something at him. “Perhaps not". He sat down. “Is it going to be a problem?" “What?" I asked. He seemed to be choosing his words carefully. “Our friendship". “Yes it is". I snapped, unable to help myself. “I can't believe you're chasing a woman in the midst of...this". I gestured at the table. He studied me. “Is that it? Is that all it is?" No, it wasn't. I was fiercely possessive, and it did not sit well with me that my friend was fraternising with a woman I considered mine. “What else is there?"

he whispers against my lips, a claim that reverberates through the silent corners of the room. Days unfold with his possessiveness taking center stage. One day at college, as I got engaged in a conversation with a fellow student about a project, Kirill appears beside me. His hand finds its way around my waist, a deliberate gesture that leaves no room for misinterpretation. "I hope I'm not interrupting," he says with a smirk, casting a possessive glance at the guy I was talking to. The poor soul, sensing the shift in dynamics, quickly concludes the conversation and retreats. His actions speak louder than words, a declaration to everyone around that I belong to him.

Esther shook in fear, “Don't worry as long as someone loves you, they won't think of hurting you trust me” “Really?” “Of course” “Are you possessive?” “Me?” He asked pointing at himself “Hmmm” I nodded “Nhhhh, I've never been in love, I use to be a playboy and I've never loved any of them, so I don't know what being possessive is, maybe when I'm in love I can get to experience that feeling”

Jake, standing beside him, echoed the sentiment, his own eyes filled with a fierce protectiveness. "We’re ours, Lila. All of us. Forever. You are the center of our world, the very air we breathe. To think we would willingly leave you is an absurdity." The possessive “ours” hung in the air, a declaration of their unified intent. It wasn’t just a word; it was a brand, a mark of ownership that resonated deep within Lila’s soul. It was a promise of safety, of unwavering devotion, a fortress against the anxieties that gnawed at her. They were hers, and she was theirs, a trinity forged in desire and unbreakable loyalty.

Reed cut him off. "The last time I checked, she does not belong to you... I do not owe you an explanation!" Felix replied and resumed walking. "She's out of whatever stupid beef you've with me, get that info into your damn brain. Try rubbish with her, and I won't think twice about breaking our friendship—" "Are you in love with her?" Felix cut in, and Reed blinked. He almost lost his words, this was the first time he had ever acted possessive over a girl. He either dumped them first, and there was always another girl.

I don't want to anger him anymore. Oh my, what have I gotten myself into?. I already have a possessive man in my life, I don't need another. I swear Wolfie and Max are more possessive than my dad and I'm his only pub. " Yes, I'm your friend a" I tried to talk to him but he bared his canines at me. He doesn't wanna hear that, he wants me to say I'm his. My question is if I do. Won't he become more possessive?.

I watched him with that expression quietly as I watched his smile fade. He was wrong. I'm not possessive. I've never been possessive. "You are a little wrong boyfriend. I'm not possessive. I'm..."