#grumpy x grumpy

[shurisneakers]

cold hands in warm hands + hand kisses with my beloved bucky

Warnings: swearing, snow??

A/N: I see that you all like those grumpy x grumpy assholes. well here have some more of them

All it takes is one bad decision, and now the two of you are stuck in what has to be a walk-in freezer. Or maybe Siberia. Either way, it’s cold enough to regret every choice you’ve made today.

"You're not getting my jacket."

"Don't need it."

"Glasses are mine too."

"Don't need that either "

"Not givi--"

"I don't need your stuff," Bucky interrupts, rubbing a hand over his face. "I'm fine."

You’re too cold to argue, so instead, you stomp off to the corner of the freezer to rummage through empty boxes, hoping to find something remotely helpful. Nothing. Just the sound of Bucky’s boots crunching in the snow behind you, breathing down your neck like some clingy demon.

"You’re really looking for gloves?" he deadpans.

"Some of us don’t come with central heating."

He leans against the wall, arms crossed, looking like he’s impervious to the cold. Like this whole thing is a minor inconvenience and not, you know, a potential frostbite situation.

You don't respond, pulling out tins and empty boxes but nothing that can help warm your freezing fingers.

"Give me your hands," he mumbles.

"Get your own."

"You're gonna get frostbite."

"Promise?"

His eye twitches.

Half an hour later, you've turned away from him to hide the fact that you're blowing into your hands for any semblance of warmth.

"Just give me your hands," he sighs, clearly at the end of his patience.

"I’m fine," you grit out.

"You’re an idiot," he says instantly.

You send him the middle finger.

"Gonna be hard to flip me off once your fingers snap off."

You glare at him as he thrusts his flesh hand toward you, clearly daring you to refuse.

Reluctantly, you slap your hands into his, grumbling under your breath the whole time.

"Christ, your hands are fuckin' ice."

"Who's asking you to hold onto them," you snap, trying to tug them away.

"Quit movin'," he mumbles, tightening his grip. "I just said they were cold, nothing else."

Bucky's a space heater in human form. His hand radiates heat, almost immediately warming your fingers. You hate how good it feels. The additional heat the annoyance he provides you with also helps.

"Where'd the metal one go?"

"It's metal," he replies, tone flat. "What d'you think happens to metal in the cold?"

You narrow your eyes at him. "Pipe down, Mr Science. You're so fuckin' bitchy."

"Shut up," he groans, "Five minutes. That’s all I’m asking for."

Still, he stays where he is. The warmth from his hand is enough to have you regain feeling in your fingers, the sting of thawing making you wince.

"Give it," you demand after a moment.

"What."

You pry one hand loose of his, holding it out expectantly, sending an eyebrow at his metal hand that hung loose over his knee.

"What, one's not enough for you?" he evades.

"It's only fair," you argue.

"Fair? You think this is a democracy?"

"It's called paying it forward, asshole," you retort. "I'm not gonna let your one hand stay cold."

"No."

"It's so funny that you say that, because I don't remember asking."

"You’re cold enough as it is. It’d freeze your hands solid in seconds."

"Good to know you’re selectively useful," you mutter, but your voice is quieter now.

The two of you stare at each other, deadlocked, frost gathering in the air between you.

You pull your hands back.

"Christ alive, what are you? Six?"

"Either both hands are getting warm or neither are," you declare. "Cry about it. You've got both hands free to wipe your tears."

He sighs irritatedly.

You both sit in the cold, arms crossed over your chests.

"Give me your hands," he says, voice low.

"You first."

Finally, with a muttered curse, Bucky thrusts his metal hand at you. "Happy now?"

You clasp both his hands, and the two of you sit in sulky silence as the warmth slowly spreads.

You glance at him after a moment. "We look like we’re auditioning for Les Misérables."

He huffs a laugh, his breath freezing in the air.

Bucky lifts the arm holding his metal hand, and presses a kiss to your open palm, lingering for a second, before letting it down again.

"You argue too damn much," he mumbles.

The tips of your ears feel warm, and you don't think it's from the cold.

You roll your eyes, "You're the one who threw a hissy fit."

Either way, you shuffle closer to him as you wait for someone to come pick you both up.

[callmebyyourcallsign]

Dogfight

Pairing: Lt. Natasha “Phoenix” Trace x Pilot! Reader

Tags: Enemies to lovers. Banter is foreplay. Aggressive flirting disguised as rivalry. Everyone knows except them.

Summary: You and Phoenix have been circling each other since the first day you met, two top pilots locked in a rivalry sharp enough to draw blood. Every sim, every mission, every barstool argument crackles with tension disguised as banter. But under the smirks and stingers is something neither of you wants to name, want, raw and relentless.

Word count: 1,365

Natasha “Phoenix” Trace. You could write a book about the ways she pisses you off. It would start with the way she smirks when you walk into the ready room, like she knows something you don’t. Like she’s always two steps ahead. Like she’s playing chess while you’re stuck at checkers.

It would cover how she flies, clean, sharp, fast, but with just enough flash to make you grit your teeth behind the stick. Like she’s showing off. Like she’s showing you up.

It would detail the way she leans against the bar at The Hard Deck, beer in hand, legs crossed at the ankle, looking like she owns the whole damn place. Like she owns the whole damn sky.

You hate her. (You don’t.)

You don’t know when the rivalry started. Maybe the first day you both clocked each other on the tarmac, eyes sharp behind your aviators, each silently deciding that the other was the one to beat. Maybe the first time she stole a kill from you in a sim, smooth and ruthless, and left you fuming in the debrief. Maybe it was the night at the bar when she leaned in close, too close, and said something low that no one else could hear, something that wasn’t quite an insult, wasn’t quite a compliment, and left you wide awake in your bunk, staring at the ceiling, furious at how your pulse pounded in your throat.

You don’t remember the start. But you’re stuck in it now.

It’s in the way you circle each other. The way your callsigns hit the comms like a challenge every time you’re in the air together. The way you lock eyes across briefing rooms and hallways and the hangar, heat sparking in the spaces between.

Your squadmates see it. They don’t say it outright, but they see it. The way Payback raises his eyebrows when you and Phoenix start sniping at each other over tactics. The way Bob looks like he’s trying not to smile when you argue about flight paths and wing angles at 0200 in the common room.

You tell yourself it’s normal. Healthy competition. Keeps you sharp.

But the truth is, you know exactly how close she gets when she leans over your shoulder at the bar to grab a napkin. You know exactly how her voice drops when it’s just the two of you in the hangar after everyone else has cleared out. You know what she smells like, salt air, jet fuel, and something warmer underneath.

And it’s driving you insane.

One night, after a particularly brutal sim where she outmaneuvers you clean, again, you find yourself alone outside the hangar. The ocean breeze cool on your skin. The lights of the base flickering in the distance.

You hear her boots before you see her. And when she stops beside you, neither of you says anything at first.

There’s tension, but it’s quieter now. Heavy. Like storm clouds gathering just offshore.

Finally, she says, low, “You flew well today.”

It shouldn’t hit you like it does. It shouldn’t make your heart do that ridiculous little stutter. But it does.

You glance at her, and the way she’s looking at you, steady, open, no smirk, no walls, it makes your breath catch.

You want to say a thousand things. That you hate how good she is because it makes you want her more. That you think about her when you shouldn’t. That you don’t know how to stop.

Instead, you just nod. “Yeah. You too.”

The silence stretches. The wind tugs at your sleeves.

And for a second, it feels like maybe, maybe, you’ll close that last inch of space between you. But then someone calls her name from across the tarmac, and she pulls back, and the moment passes.

You lie awake that night, as you have so many nights, cursing yourself. Cursing her. Cursing whatever force keeps pulling you into her orbit, again and again, like she’s gravity and you’re just a stupid, helpless satellite.

You wonder if she lies awake too.

-

You try to keep your distance after that night outside the hangar. Tell yourself that this is smarter. Safer. But distance means nothing when you’re flying together, side by side, breath and blood synced at thirty thousand feet.

You stop trying to hate the way she sounds over comms. That steady voice. That razor-sharp focus. That low, almost fond little “Nice recovery” when you pull out of a tight maneuver.

But on the ground? You still argue. Of course you do. It’s easier to fight than to feel.

She rolls her eyes at your cockiness. You make snide comments about her flight style, just to see the way she squares her jaw. But it’s all smoke. All misdirection.

Because you’re looking at her hands when she talks, at the curve of her mouth when she tries not to smile. And sometimes, late at night, you catch her looking at you the same way.

Deployment comes. A carrier op. Long, brutal hours. Stress that grinds everyone raw. It should break you both down. Instead, it binds you tighter.

There’s a mission. It goes sideways. And it’s Phoenix who has your six when shit hits the fan. Phoenix who hauls you out of your cockpit after you skid hard on landing, heart in her throat, hands shaking but steady as they grip your flight suit.

And later, in the dark of the carrier deck, when it’s just the two of you, she says your name soft, like it’s something she’s been holding onto too long. And you almost kiss her. Almost.

But you don’t. Can’t.

-

The storm rolls in fast. Thunderheads bruise the sky, wind snapping at the carrier deck like it’s spoiling for a fight. And maybe that’s fitting, because you are too.

Phoenix finds you after the mission. You’re pacing the deck, flight suit half-unzipped, hair stuck to your forehead with sweat and rain. She looks furious.

“You could’ve gotten yourself killed up there.” Her voice is sharp, biting. Your head jerks up. “Thanks for the update, Trace. I didn’t notice.”

She steps closer, boots loud against the steel. “You’re not invincible. You don’t get to pull shit like that and just—just walk away like it doesn’t matter!”

Your laugh is bitter, short. “What do you care?”

And that does it. That sets her off. “God, you’re such an idiot sometimes!” Her hands are in her hair, yanking the band loose, rain soaking both of you now. “You think this is a game? That if you just flirt with death enough, the rest of us won’t notice how hard you’re trying to disappear?”

The words hit harder than you want them to. You scowl, stepping into her space. “You don’t know what the hell you’re talking about.”

“I know you.” It comes out quiet, but it’s a gut punch. The anger bleeds out of her all at once, like she’s tired of pretending. “I know you. I see you. Every goddamn day I see you trying to push me away because you’re too scared to want what you want.”

And you freeze. Because she’s right. And because wanting her feels like standing at the edge of a cliff, the air rushing up to meet you before you even fall.

Phoenix shakes her head, rain running down her cheeks like tears. “I’m done waiting for you to figure it out.”

But she doesn’t move. She just stands there, breathing hard, chest rising and falling, close enough that you can feel the heat of her even through the storm.

You’re the one who moves. One step. Then another. And then you’re kissing her, fierce, desperate, all teeth and rain and too many nights pretending you didn’t want this.

Her hands tangle in your hair. Yours at her waist. And the storm crashes around you, lightning splitting the sky like it’s cheering you on.

When you break apart, you’re both breathless, foreheads pressed together, laughing a little like you can’t believe it took this long.

Phoenix grins, crooked and beautiful. “Took you long enough.”

And you, still dizzy from her, say the only thing that makes sense. “Worth the wait.”

Ao3

[duckprintspress]

Sample Chapter 1 of The Salt in the Sea!

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[pleasantlycrazyworld]

I love grumpy x sunshine trope I really really do, it's my favorite! And I see it all the time with Wolverine (as we should be seeing) but I can't stop thinking about a grumpy reader with a grumpy wolverine! Someone who has a similar personality as his but only gets soft with him, someone who glares at everyone but melts for him. He deserves that love too!

I want to write a whole thing about this trope!

[jakelockleysdoll]

okay. everyone talks about miguel hating everyone but having a soft spot for you. what if it was the other way round? what if you hated everyone, but had a soft spot for him. He loves this about you. He feels like he’s met his match. The way you would yell at everyone to “pick up the slack and do some work for once”, then would greet him with the sweetest “hey”, smiling, a pink blush on your cheeks. he’d go feral.

(an old draft- not the first to think of this now, but I think it’s so cute 🎀)

[brooke-hart]

Humans Are...In Love

If you love the hilarious components of humans are weirds, I have a full-length novel full of a group of humans that are working on an alien base. But while there, they not only confuse and befriend the aliens.

Some fall in love.

He has spent all his life with a secret. She's spent hers learning to trust no one. But what happens when they meet each other? Knycuz was not interested in the humans who had come to the base...until he met Jessica. To everyone else, she is quiet and abrasive. To him, she is everything he never knew he wanted. Jess knows she isn't supposed to get involved with anyone on this trip. But she can't resist Knycuz. And even worse, she can't resist doing the one thing she swore she never would... Letting him in.

Humans are far more complex than the Klyls ever expected. And now, they are learning more than every thought they would. Especially when it comes to their emotions.

Read Knycuz and Jessica's spicy novella this June!

You can preorder this grumpyxgrumpy, forbidden love, scifi romance on Amazon now. https://tinyurl.com/ywf63nvs

[stasyalovem]

ok, we have grumpy (but more like a bitchy) x sunshine dynamic like Charles with both Crystal and Edwin (but with a 30 years married couple bickering vibe), and also between Edwin and Nico (yes, he's softie for her, but still grumpy). also we have two absolutely stubborn bitches Edwin and Crystal, their beef is so iconic. but we're obviously don't have enough sunshine x sunshine dynamics between Charles and Nico. they're very cute and funny, we need more of their interactions in season 2

[danvy121994]

Promised pt 1

Author note: this is part 1 of my first every fanfic! I hope you like it and sorry if there’s any errors English is not my first language <3

Anthony Bridgerton x reader

Synopsis: yn is stuck in a marriage with a man she knows nothing about, apart from the fact that he’s a rake and that his only concerns are his work and he’s family, but who knows what the future might hold for her…

Since the age of fourteen , YN was aware that she would have to marry out of love.

After Edmund Bridgerton died, the oldest son took the title, and with that came many responsibilities; the year after her husband's death Violet hopend up with one of her closest friends about her concerns, Anthony was a young man, whit too much responsibilities for his age, and because of that he wasn’t looking towards a marriage, instead he was going after women of easy virtue and solemnly concentrating on his work as a Viscount. Her friend hearing those words thought of an idea, to promise her daughter to the Viscount and make them marry once she was eighteen, so that he could live his life and learn to be a Viscount in the meantime. She agreed, and that is where our story started…

On the day of her eighteen birthday YN wasn’t happy as she should have been, eighteen for most women is the age when they become a woman, for her eighteen meant the start of her imprisonment.

She always dreamed of meeting the Perfect Man, during a perfect evening and falling in love and with only one glance knowing that they were made for one another. That would never happen.

This is what she thought of as she was getting ready to meet for the first time, and also marry, her future husband. Obviously she as read many thighs about him, from the most famous writer among the ton , lady whistledown, and the more she read the more she was scared of finally meeting him, a dark and handsome man, or at least that’s what they say; he was a rake, he had been with so many women that the author of the newspaper lost the count, and he was very secretive about his life, never engaging in conversations for longer that it needed and often bluntly telling people if he didn’t like them, as much as he could of course since he was a Viscount and needed to keep the family honor ; If there was one thing that she liked about Anthony Bridgerton was his love towards his family, it was something that they shared, if it wasn’t for the love towards her parent yn would have already tried to escape from this union, she knew how much it meant for her mother, so she sat in her chair, quietly as the maids were helping her get ready. As she was so lost in her trail of thoughts she didn’t hear the door opening, a girl appeared from the door,

She had a baby in her arms and as she was walking towards her she spoke “ you must be lady Y/S/N? I am daphne, Anthony’s sister, and you look even more pretty that I imagined” she’s nice, yn thought, “ it’s a pleasure to meet you lady Hastings” she has read of her on lady wistledown, oh how she wishes that she would get a love story like hers. They weren’t able to talk much further because a maid came in the room announcing the start of the ceremony, and in that moment yn was certain that from that moment on, her life would never be the same, in fact she was certain that from that moment on, her life would get even worst once tied to the one of the viscount.

[jd-rivers]

Soooo~ooon

My people, beginning April the pre-order campaign by @duckprintspress for my queer urban fantasy novella "The Salt in the Sea" will go live.

A selkie and an werewolf and an island and a...murder?

How many genres did I want to write? 😎 All of them apparently.

Watch this space and DDP's for more infos rolling in!

Or find me on bluesky!

[jessread-s]

✩🗡️🌸Review:

Lauren Roberts’ debut novel blew me away!

“Powerless” follows Paedyn Gray, an Ordinary born without the powers possessed by the Elites that rule the kingdom of Ilya. Left with no choice, Paedyn poses as a Psychic to blend in to survive in the slums and avoid banishment. When she unsuspectingly saves one of Ilya’s princes, however, she is thrown into the spotlight as a competitor in the Purging Trials—a brutal competition showcasing the Elites’ abilities. Her survival is entirely dependent on the lie she has spent her whole life living, but her growing feelings for the prince threaten to destroy all her carefully laid plans.

I absolutely flew through this book! Enemies to lovers, forbidden love, forced proximity, knife to the throat… the story was definitely written around common tropes and the plot resembles the likes of “Red Queen” and “The Hunger Games”, but it really worked for me because I grew deeply attached the characters. I was fully invested in Paedyn and Kai’s development as a couple and as individual characters. I particularly enjoyed alternating between their points-of-view because Roberts does such a great job capturing their irresistible chemistry and respective internal struggles.

I also took a liking to Roberts’ world-building. While simple, I was not left wanting. The kingdom of Ilya’s political structure, the system of magic in relation to the Elites, the Purging Trials, the rebellion headed by the Ordinaries, and the different environments the characters navigate fascinated me and have so much potential for expansion in upcoming novels in the series.

The atmosphere Roberts creates with the high stakes her characters must grapple with and the action packed plot make for an impressive debut. Fair warning, the ending of this book is a punch to the gut and scream inducing. I most definitely will be getting my hands on “Reckless” upon its publication in July!

Cross-posted to: Instagram | Amazon | Goodreads | StoryGraph

[chaoticmiserablelover]

Deep inside me, I fear that the romance trope Grayson Hawthorne is going to get is the grumpy x sunshine. 

As someone who likes grumpy characters and is also grumpy, we never get to win.

[ofduskanddreams]

Know Better Than This | Hockey AU Azris

just a little mood board to celebrate the MN Wild’s first official game of the season, crafted during commercial breaks :)

out of everything I’ve ever written, this is the fic I’ve reread the most—I can’t wait to get back to this one and finish it <3

[remusremorse]

I am currently writing the next chapter but I have writers block and need some ideas to help with Remus and Lily’s(oc) date.

[oharaslove]

This keeps getting likes and I am like WOOW, I wouldn't have guessed that people would like the grumpy x grumpy concept. Now I want to write a fic about it but I have so many things 😭😩

We’ve always seen Grumpy x Sunshine when it comes to Miguel and Reader. Today I present you with Grumpy x Grumpy

Reader who never showed a smile towards anyone in the Society. 

Miguel who notices them in the group meetings. Every Spider has a sense of humour, they smile through the pain, but you didn’t. You were always with a serious expression. You were integrated, at the same time though, you seemed closed off. Not letting anyone come close. 

Miguel who takes interest. There is only one place for a Grumpy person in this lab, and that’s him. Or at least, most people say he is grumpy, not that he believes it 100%. 

Reader who enjoys spending time by themselves, recluding to the rooftop of the Society. A place that, weirdly enough, no one frequents. 

Miguel who looks for Reader in the common spaces, but doesn’t have luck. He didn’t exactly know what he wanted with you, but there was something pulling him towards your person. Did he want to be friends? Was he just curious? No idea.

Miguel who has to admit to Lyla what he is doing, having to accept her teases. “Oooohhh Miguel has got a crush” At which Miguel rolls his eyes. He doesn’t. He doesn’t even know you! How could he have a crush? he definitely has. If it were any other Spider, he would probably not care, but you. You had something. 

Lyla who, after an uncountable amount of mocking, takes pity on Miguel and reveals your location. Miguel who sees you through the security camera, sitting at the edge, dangling your feet. 

Miguel who marches towards your location. No plan in his head. He was just going with the flow. His body guiding him towards what it wanted. You

Reader who is startled by the sudden sound of someone opening the door to the rooftop. Who the hell comes here?. You turned around, spotting Miguel silently watching you from the doorway. You turn around again, rolling your eyes. Whatever. 

Miguel who approaches you. What the hell has he come here for? It’s been a looong minute since he has spoken to a woman, other than work stuff.

Miguel who just stands there, looking off at the distance, while keeping an eye on you from time to time. He was just testing the water, yeah. 

Reader who finds it weird, but let’s it happen. Miguel is the leader of the society after all. Besides, you knew (or at least heard) that he was “grumpy”. Problem, you didn’t know if he really was, or like you, he was misunderstood by everyone. In doubt, better keep quiet. 

Miguel who after a while, decides to go. That was embarrassing enough. But don’t get confused, he would come back, he just needed a plan. 

Miguel who, the first week, just stands there, getting comfortable with your presence, hoping you do too. Until….

“You know you can sit, right?” “Uh… I-” He stutters, not expecting you to talk. You scooch over, even though there is plenty of space. Miguel sits, rather close. He enjoys the view now, but most importantly, the heat emanating from your body. He sighs, step 1 down. 

Days turned into weeks. Now, you two were comfortable. Not talking much yet, but sitting next to each other, enjoying each other’s company while appreciating the skyline. Miguel hadn’t realised how much he needed this, relaxing. After a day being cooped up in the lab, this was a nice change. You would share food with each other, a lovely and quiet picnic between two friends? A boss and a worker? Co-workers? He had no clue, but whatever it was, he liked it. 

But… he wanted more. He felt the need to know you better. So.. that’s how the conversations started. About whatever, whoever… didn’t matter. What matter was that step 2 was down. 

Step 3 was by far the hardest one. Make you laugh. At least a small giggle or a smile, Miguel would be happy with either one. 

Granted, Miguel wasn’t good with jokes either. He didn’t know how the other Spiders did it. But thankfully, as a man of science, he knew how to achieve a goal. 

Miguel who spends quite some time observing the other Spiders. He never had a reason to, but now, he did. He thought that you would like it if he was funny, like the others. Yeah, surely, why wouldn’t you?

Miguel who writes some jokes and practises how to deliver them, over and over again. Lyla was having a blast. The big, “bad”, “grumpy” leader of the Spider Society, creator of Nueva York, was mad about another person. 

Miguel, nervous af, goes to your spot. After meeting for quite some time, you two developed a routine. Always at the same hour, same place. 

Reader who is already there, waiting. You really enjoyed meeting with Miguel, you felt he was the only one who understood you. 

Miguel who slowly approaches you. He could feel sweat dribble from his temple, down to his neck. 

Miguel checks the paper on his hand. Yeah, these jokes would do. 

Miguel who, after a peaceful chit chat, feels comfortable enough to start trying with the jokes. They were awful, to say the least. 

“How would you describe Spiderman’s perfect home? The world wide web!”

Miguel who after every stupid joke watches your reaction. At first, you are confused, but as jokes go by, he can see you trying hard not to smile. 

“What is–” “What are you doing?” you said, your lips tugging up into a smile. you were so adorable. “What do you mean?” “The jokes” you clarify, your smile widening. “I– I was trying to be funny, like the other Spidermen. People seem to like them. I–” “Don’t” you interrupt, your tone and expression serious. 

Miguel wanted to be swallowed by the Earth. He scrunches the paper and fists it. This was all a waste— “I like you just the way you are” You confess, making Miguel snap his head towards you, eyes wide like plates. 

“You– you do?” He must have misheard you. “Mhh” you mumbled, nodding. “Just,” you bite your lip, debating if you should say it or not. “Just be my Miguel. The one you’ve always been” And you smile as bright as the sun, warming Miguel’s hug. 

“Your Miguel” he repeats in a trance. You nod, biting your lip, trying to suppress the smile that had been printed on your face. Nothing could wipe it now. 

Miguel mirrors you, smiling from ear to ear. He looks at his clenched fist, the paper sticking out. He looks at you and laughs, throwing the paper into the city. “I’ll be your Miguel then” He scooches closer to you, giving you the opportunity to lean on his chest, as he rounds your body with his arm. 

“Yeah, my Miguel” you sighed, closing your eyes and melting into his touch. His warm body and heartbeat lulling you to sleep. 

Miguel who kisses the top of your head, before resting his cheek against it. He sighs, step 3 and goal down. 

To the world, you were two Grumpy people. But between you, days were spent between laughs and giggles. Kisses being interrupted by smiles. Just seeing each other made you happy. Life was warm, yellow and red, all together. It didn’t matter how the rest saw you, just that you two were happy and in love. 

[oneiric-wanderlust]

Seeing this serious, battle-hardened gangster smile while holding his baby girl, being with Annie for all eternity, and finally finding peace makes my heart melt.

[brooke-hart]

FREE ARC for my next Sci-fi Romance!

For everyone who loves the Humans Are Weird series that I am always posting about, I have a novella coming out in June (it will be on KU). But there is an opportunity now to get a free advanced copy to read!

If you have not read the first book in the series, I would highly suggest doing so but this book overlaps the same time frame as Humans Are Weird and Humans Are Merry. It can be read as a standalone.

He has spent all his life with a secret. She's spent hers learning to trust no one. But what happens when they meet each other? Knycuz was not interested in the humans who had come to the base...until he met Jessica. To everyone else, she is quiet and abrasive. To him, she is everything he never knew he wanted. Jess knows she isn't supposed to get involved with anyone on this trip. But she can't resist Knycuz. And even worse, she can't resist doing the one thing she swore she never would... Letting him in.

You can preorder this grumpyxgrumpy, forbidden love, scifi romance on Amazon now. https://tinyurl.com/ywf63nvs

And for the ARC, you can get it for free on booksprout! https://booksprout.co/reviewer/review-copy/view/213137/humans-are-loved