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Quotes tagged as "otp" Showing 1-30 of 70
Richelle Mead
“Relax, having kids is years away. But can you imagine? Your brains, my charm, our collective good looks... then add in the usual physical abilities dhampirs get.

It's really not even fair to everyone else.”
Richelle Mead, The Fiery Heart

Casey McQuiston
“History, huh?”
Casey McQuiston, Red, White & Royal Blue

Cassandra Clare
“Jem told me what Ragnor Fell said about my father,” Will said. “That for my father, there was only ever one woman he loved, and it was her for him, or nothing. You are that for me. I love you, and I will only ever love you until I die —”
Cassandra Clare, Clockwork Princess

Richelle Mead
“No matter how long or how difficult, we will undo whatever that Moroi boy has done to you."

I managed a wavering smile, tasting blood in my mouth. "You sure about that, Dad? Because he's done everything to me.”
Richelle Mead, The Fiery Heart

Richelle Mead
“Adrian tipped my face up toward his and kissed me. Like always, the world around me stopped moving. No, the world became Adrian, only Adrian. Kissing him was as mind-blowing as ever, full of that same passion and need I had never believed I’d feel. But today, there was even more to it. I no longer had any doubt about whether this was wrong or right. It was a culmination of a long journey . . . or maybe the beginning of one.

I wrapped my arms around his neck and pulled him closer. I didn’t care that we were out in public. I didn’t care that he was Moroi. All that mattered was that he was Adrian, my Adrian. My match. My partner in crime, in the long battle I’d just signed on for to right the wrongs in the Alchemist and Moroi worlds. Maybe Marcus was right that I’d also signed myself up for disaster, but I didn’t care. In that moment, it seemed that as long as Adrian and I were together, there was no challenge too great for us.

I don’t know how long we stood there kissing. Like I said, the world around me was gone. Time had stopped. I was awash in the feel of Adrian’s body against mine, in his scent, and in the taste of his lips. That was all that mattered right now.”
Richelle Mead, The Indigo Spell

Richelle Mead
“And besides . . . I don’t want to leave you. Er, you guys.”

He smiled, and it lit up his whole face. “Well, ‘we’ are certainly happy to hear that. Oh, and I’m also happy to watch our darling little love child dragon while you’re in St. Louis.”

I grinned back.”
Richelle Mead, The Indigo Spell

Rick Riordan
“She had to go on this quest. The fate of the world might depend on it. But part of him wanted to say: Forget the world. He didn’t want to be without her.”
Rick Riordan, The Mark of Athena

Cassandra Clare
“Hiding here, are you? That’s awkward.” “Why?” “Because I had intended to hide here myself.” “You may hide here with me, if you wish.”
Cassandra Clare, Clockwork Princess

Morgan Rhodes
“I love you, Cleo," he said, the words finally coming to him, with no effort at all because of how true they were. "I love you so much it hurts."
Her eyes widened. "What did you just say?"
Magnus almost laughed. "I think you heard me right.”
Morgan Rhodes, Frozen Tides

Marissa Meyer
“Winter’s head snapped around, away from Scarlet. Scarlet’s pace slowed, dread pulsing through her as she, too, heard the footsteps. Pounding footsteps, like someone was running at full speed toward them. She reached for the knife Jacin had given her. A man barrelled around the corner, heading straight for the princess. Winter tensed half a second before he reached her. Grabbing Winter’s elbow, he yanked back the red hood.
Scarlet gasped. Her knees weakened. The man stared at Winter with a mixture of confusion and disappointment and maybe even anger, all locked up in eyes so vividly green that Scarlet could see them glowing from here. She was the one hallucinating now.
She took a stumbling, uncertain step forward. Wanting to run toward him, but terrified it was a trick. Her hand tightened around the knife handle as Wolf, ignoring how Winter was trying to pull away, grabbed her arm and smelled the filthy red sleeve of Scarlet’s hoodie, streaked with dirt and blood. He growled, ready to tear the princess apart. “Where did you get this?” So desperate, so determined, so him. The knife slipped out of Scarlet’s hand. Wolf’s attention snapped to her. “Wolf?” she whispered.
His eyes brightened, wild and hopeful. Releasing Winter, he strode forward. His tumultuous eyes scooped over her. Devoured her.
When he was in arm’s reach, Scarlet almost collapsed into him, but at the last moment she had the presence of mind to step back. She planted a hand on his chest. Wolf froze, hurt flickering across his face.
“I’m sorry,” said Scarlet, her voice teetering with exhaustion. “It’s just…I smell so awful, I can hardly stand to be around myself right now, so I can’t even imagine what it’s like for you with your sense of sm-“
Batting her hand away, Wolf dug his fingers into Scarlet’s hair and crushed his mouth against hers. Her protests died with a muffled gasp. This time, she did collapse, her legs unable to hold her a second longer. Wolf fell with her, dropping his knees to break Scarlet’s fall and cradling her body against his. He was here. He was here.
Marissa Meyer, Winter

Veronica Rossi
“Fine. Then I love you, my little Night Crawler.”
veronica rossi, Into the Still Blue

Maggie Stiefvater
“Tamquam,’ said Adam.
'Wait,’ said Ronan.
'Tamquam,’ he said again, gently.
'Alter idem,’ Ronan said, and found himself alone.”
Maggie Stiefvater, Call Down the Hawk

Hanya Yanagihara
“That night, before bed, he goes first to Willem's side of the closet, which he has still not emptied. Here are Willem's shirts on their hangers, and his sweaters on their shelves, and his shoes lined up beneath. He takes down the shirt he needs, a burgundy plaid woven through with threads of yellow, which Willem used to wear around the house in the springtime, and shrugs it on over his head. But instead of putting his arms through its sleeves, he ties the sleeves in front of him, which makes the shirt look like a straitjacket, but which he can pretend—if he concentrates—are Willem's arms in an embrace around him. He climbs into bed. This ritual embarrasses and shames him, but he only does it when he really needs it, and tonight he really needs it.”
Hanya Yanagihara, A Little Life

James  Patterson
“Max." Fang let go of my hand. "Right now, it's really all about—us."

He swooped down to the right in a big semicircle, ending facing me. Slowly we climbed upward, until we were almost vertical, flying straight up to the sun.

While carefully synchronizing our wings—they almost touched—Fang leaned in, gently put one hand behind my neck, and kissed me. It was just about as close to heaven as I'll ever get, I guess. I closed my eyes, lost in the feeling of flying and kissing and being with the one person in the world I completely,
utterly trusted.

When we finally broke apart, we looked down at the others, who were way far below us now. Angel was shading her eyes, looking up at us with a big smile. She was sitting on a dolphin's back, and I hoped soon someone would explain to the dolphin that he shouldn't let Angel take advantage of his good nature.

Still looking up at us, Angel gave us a big thumbs-up.


"She approves," Fang said with a hint of amusement.
"Jeez," I wondered aloud. "Is that a good thing or a bad thing?”
James Patterson, Max

“But people who fundamentally change are rare, in my experience, because it's bloody hard work compared to going on a march or waving a flag. Have we met a single person on this case who's radically different to the person they were forty years ago?"

"I don't know . . . I think I've changed," said Robin, then felt embarrassed to have said it out loud.

Strike looked at her without smiling for the space it took him to chew and swallow a chip, then said,

"Yeah. But you're exceptional, aren't you?”
Robert Galbraith, Troubled Blood

“Happy birthday, this isn't your real present,
you'll get that later. (Not flowers)
Love Strike x”
Robert Galbraith, Troubled Blood

Thanks for the balloon donkey. Perfect timing. My old one's nearly deflated.

She received an answer sixty seconds later.

Great. I was worried it was so obvious, everybody would've got you one. See you at 5.

Light-hearted now, Robin drank tea, ate her toast and returned downstairs to open her family's presents.”
Robert Galbraith, Troubled Blood

“So where—?" asked Robin.

"I'm taking you to the Ritz for champagne," said Strike.

"Are you serious?"

"Yeah. It's why I'm wearing you a suit."

For a moment Robin simply looked at him, then she reached up and hugged him tightly. Surrounded by banked flowers, both remembered the hug they'd shared at the top of the stairs on her wedding day, but this time, Robin turned her face and kissed Strike deliberately on the cheek, lips to stubble.

"Thanks, Strike. This really means a lot."

And that, thought her partner, as the two of them headed away toward the Ritz in the golden glow of the early evening, really was well worth sixty quid and a bit of an effort . . .

Out of his subconscious rose the names Mazankov and Krupov, and it was a second or two before he remembered where he'd heard them, why they sounded Cornish, and why he thought of them now. The corners of his mouth twitched, but as Robin didn't see him smiling, he felt no compulsion to explain.”
Robert Galbraith, Troubled Blood

“The memory of Strike telling her she was his best friend made her heart feel immeasurably lightened, as though something she hadn't realized was weighing on it had been removed forever.

After a moment's pleasurable savoring of this feeling . . .”
Robert Galbraith, Troubled Blood

“The memory of him telling her she was his best friend caused a little spurt of happiness every time she returned to it . . .”
Robert Galbraith, Troubled Blood

“They beamed at each other: for a moment, Robin thought she saw the idea of hugging her cross Strike's mind, but instead he held out his hand and shook hers.”
Robert Galbraith, Troubled Blood

“She'd washed her hands in the bathroom, but they were still damp, because she'd been in such a hurry to get back to Strike.”
Robert Galbraith, Troubled Blood
tags: cute, otp

“Now she hesitated, wondering whether she dare do what she wanted . . . but surely, if they were best friends, it was all right?”
Robert Galbraith, Troubled Blood

Laylah Roberts
“Just relax. Close your eyes. Think about me. Naked. Ahh, no. that will keep you awake and horny. Sorry."

She huffed out a laugh. What was she going to do with him? Hug him. Love him. Hold onto him and never let him go.”
Laylah Roberts, Her Daddy's Jewel

Adalyn  Grace
“— ¿Le parezco graciosa, señor? —Apretó los dientes mientras las sombras danzaban entre los árboles.
— A veces. —La voz de Muerte fue poco más que un susurro entre el viento ensordecedor, pero Signa la oyó con tanta claridad como si procediera de sus propios pensamientos—. Y a veces eres un incordio sin fin. Pero siempre eres una fascinación.”
Adalyn Grace

Adalyn  Grace
“Probablemente Sylas fuera una de las personas más irritantes en aquel mundo, y aún así, Signa no podía apartar la mirada de él.”
Adalyn Grace

Adalyn  Grace
“Todos aquellos a los que toco mueren. (...) Excepto tú, Signa Farrow. Cuando te toco, te siento.”
Adalyn Grace

Adalyn  Grace
“— ¿Cómo te sientes? —preguntó Muerte con un tono astuto.
— Como si de repente el mundo que conocía fuera insuficiente.”
Adalyn Grace

“He grabbed hold of Hanna's arms and pulled her inside the lift with him. Once again, the doors began to close, but Hanna stepped her foot back in its way.
Asa was still holding on to her and she looked into his eyes sadly, shaking her head.
'Asa, I can't. I can't come with you. Grey-
'Grey won't be an issue,' said Asa defiantly.
'We'll be away from here! And we'll look out for each other, like we always have. Hanna, please - don't do this.'
Hanna reached up and placed her arms around his neck, hugging him. It took him a few moments to realise she had. He did not get the chance to hug her back properly.”
H. J. Redshaw, Mark Four Hundred

“Asa really wanted her close by his own side, like she always was, giving him the strength to do what he needed to do ... what he was about to do.”
H. J. Redshaw, Mark Four Hundred

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