Intp X Intj Novels & Stories

Instead, he just wore a white shirt with few buttons undone at the top, jeans, and comfortable sneakers. As soon as Fynn entered the room, his breath caught in his throat, his feet got stuck to the ground, and his eyebrows shot up. What the hell? What’s with the overpowering intents he was feeling in this room?? (⊙_⊙;) Fynn was an Intenter, which was why, although he was so young, he was already among the top inspectors of the force. Intenters could sense various “intents” from people - intents were vibes originating from that person’s intentions and desires, targeted towards someone or something else. Fynn could tell when people were lying, trying to hide something, having harmful intention

His grip is firm. "Yeah, I know," he smirks, a glint in his eye that makes me uneasy. He has a dangerous energy about him, a simmering intensity that's both captivating and terrifying. His whole body is a canvas of art: black pants, a black shirt tucked in and rolled up to the elbows, revealing arms covered in intricate tattoos. Even his neck is inked. I’m slightly surprised; I hadn’t expected an artist to be so… heavily tattooed. "So, you and my brother Renzo, how did you two meet?" he asks, relaxing back into his seat, but the intensity in his gaze doesn't lessen.

And Adrian was part of that plan. The thought made her chest tighten slightly. Adrian picked up his glass. “You know,” he said, “most people come to London to escape something.” Selina tilted her head. “And you?” “I came to build something.” “Your company?” “Partly.” “And the other part?” Adrian looked out the window briefly. “Peace.” Selina watched him carefully. This man wasn’t like Jason. Jason was loud, impulsive, arrogant. Adrian was calm. Controlled.

had only been intimate with three people before, and none of it was mind-blowing. "I don't know," I muttered. "You don't know? You've had sex, right?" His voice was gentle, and it made me smile. "Yeah, nothing amazing. I guess I just don't know yet. Why don't you go first?" I hoped to get some inspiration from him. "Hmm, I asked the question, yet I don't know my own answer," he chuckled, and I rolled my eyes at him. "I want to say rough. Looking at you now, I would love to ravish you, my hand around your throat." "Damn," I breathed out, feeling more aroused than I'd like to admit. "Oh, you like that image, huh?" I blushed bright red and ran my hand through my hair. "Maybe," I giggled. "What