Fae!Gaz who stands on the edge of your cottage property every night and watches you sleep through your sheer curtains. The peaceful innocence of your slumbering form calls to him like nothing else.

Fae!Gaz who often greets you as a man (not winged) when you go out in the woods. A friendly hello, nothing unbecoming or frightening until you get used to his spotty apperances whenever you're alone.

Fae!Gaz who shifts into a gorgeous broad-winged hawk and takes to trailing you through the quaint little village you now called home. Sometimes you notice him, but most of the time he stays out of sight, hidden up in trees or behind chimneys.

Fae!Gaz who leaves you trinkets and treats in the grotto you frequent. A ring gets left on the forests altar, a jar of fig jam appears on your windowsill, and a crude, handwritten note gets tied to a branch and left for you to read.

Fae!Gaz who invites you to a soirée in his letter, urging you to wear something light and floaty and to meet him in the grove the following evening. He's surprised when you do show up, looking as beautiful as can be.

Fae!Gaz who spirits you away to his realm for the night, dancing beneath the glow of soft lanterns and magic. You waltz and dine and drink elderberry wine, giggling the whole time at his charm and clever wit.

Fae!Gaz who must return you to the waking world without letting you keep an inkling of the enjoyment you had shared with him all night.

Fae!Gaz who is counting down the days until he'll be able to snatch you away for good. Of course you'll be a bit disoriented at first since you won't remember any of your previous trips, but he's been practicing spells to keep you docile. They should give him the time he needs to explain and soothe and promise you that everything is alright now. Everything is just how it should be...

I would really love more of platonic König with the gardener and the others fuming.

I'll YELL WHEN I WANT TO

In all seriousness, I don't mind writing platonic. I'm assuming it's 100% platonic König and semi-interested 141. This is been in my inbox for a while - hope you're still around.

On the days, Gaz lingers around the property, you've realized that the lumbering giant with claws doesn't come near the edge of the forest. He's been hanging around more since the group warned you.

You wonder if it's something to do with the type of creatures they are as you pluck one of the ripened berries from its vine. Your little blackberry bush has been one of König's favorites as of late.

Gaz is stretched out on a picnic blanket he pulled from then air after shedding his usual outfits to bathe in the sun. He's shameless in the way he displays his body.

It makes you roll your eyes when he attempted to get you to strip off your gardening outfit and join him in the sun.

"Does he not like you?" You finally ask the lingering question.

"The big guy?" Gaz lifts his sunglasses, a small grin on his lips. "Miss him?"

Your lips tug downward into a frown. "That's not an answer."

"That's not one either." He counters, dropping his sunglasses back down. "I'll tell you if you give me a blackberry."

Your eyes fall to the biggest berry you've plucked and something in the back of your mind is telling you not to. It isn't yours to give.

"No, you'll tell me for nothing." Your voice is firm as you level your eyes on him, brows furrowing.

The smile he had drops, you swear you see a snarl for half a second. "That's not how this works."

"How what works? I said you could sunbathe on the lawn. You either answer my question or leave." You square your shoulders, trying to portray confidence as you speak.

"You think you can order me around? I'm inside now - you invited me." He shifts, clearly ready to do challenge you further.

The sun had been beaming down on you moments ago. A chill goes up your spine and you turn to see the lumbering giant's maw dripping with something that isn't berry juice.

"You called?" He croaks, deeper than you've ever heard his normally high-pitched voice.

You didn't hear the branches breaking, the alligator-like bellows warning of his return or even the bushes make way for him. Your hand lifts up the blackberry to him, speech lost for the moment.

He lowers his head, tongue curling around the berry before it tosses it into his mouth. The juice drips down his chin and onto your palm.

You turn back to look at Gaz - he's fully dressed now, standing on his feet with a grimace. "You're supposed to be busy."

"The harvest is ready." König bellows, low in his throat.

Warnings: SMUT! SO MUCH!

Masterlist <<<

König

You're Mine

You're Mine 2

Ghost

So Perfect (x Black Reader)

Soap

Greedy Lass (X Fem Reader)

Gaz

Change of Job (x Male Reader)

Price

Please Just Ask (x Plus size Reader)

Could you imagine a childhood best friend trope with Kyle who all of the sudden starts insisting he goes by the nickname Gaz, but Gaz was actually a fae changeling who took the place of your real childhood best friend Kyle when you were kids??????

Anyway fae gaz has a complete chokehold on me yours SPECIFICALLY is so chefs kiss

my darling !!!! i am so, so sorry that this took me so long to get into but i absolutely adore this and love you and wanna smooch you all over your face ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡

the best friend trope is something that drives me absolutely wild!!!!

like you’ve known him forever. he’s your best friend despite the distance, despite growing up to be two completely different people. but he’s yours in a way no one else is and you can’t imagine your life without him.

when he told you he enlisted in the army and told you he'd be leaving soon, he held you for an hour straight as you cried, not wanting him to go — to leave you — but he pressed a kiss to your head and told you he'll write, that he'll always be there no matter what.

the day he left, he gave you a sealed letter, telling you not to read it until he'd left, pressing a kiss to your cheek.

it took you a week to read it.

slowly, he starts acting stranger. you figure that’s just military stuff. it worries you, but he’s still your kyle, no matter what.

the first time he comes home, you go out to a bar to celebrate. he drinks whiskey now and you wrinkle your nose, but indulge him.

when you call him kyle, he corrects you, insisting you call him gaz.

“but… you’ve always been kyle," you say, a pout pulling on your lips.

“not anymore, love.”

it makes something ache in your chest but... if it makes him happy, that’s all that matters.

each time you see him — when you can, that is — he starts turning into someone you don't think you recognize anymore.

his smile turns sharper, more predatory. eyes glinting almost unnaturally in the light, an edge to them you’ve never seen before.

when he finally has a long leave from the army, he brings you to the flat of one of his army mates for a get together that turns into a party the darker it gets.

it's hot and you feel a bit uncomfortable since you don't know anyone but him.

you just want him. you find him, as he hands you a candy he says he took from the pantry.

“gaz,” you admonish him, the nickname foreign on your tongue. but he says it's his friend's flat so... that's okay, right?

he presses the candy into your mouth, thumb pushing into your tongue, holding your jaw to make sure you chew and swallow.

“show me,” he says, when you finished.

you roll your eyes and stick out your tongue. he nods in satisfaction, motioning you with his head to follow him outside, where he leans against the wall and lights a cigarette — another habit you'd never think he'd get into.

“will you ever let me call you kyle again?” you ask softly as the flame burns, orange and white and red and all-consuming.

he snaps his zippo shut, cocking an eyebrow as he looks to you. “who’s kyle?”

he shares his drink with you — special, with you in mind.

the rest of the evening is spent in his arms, his gentle fingers drifting over your exposed skin, soft kisses pressed to your forehead, your cheeks, right at the edge of your jaw.

you see him one day, and you’re surprised because you’ve never seen him before, and you’ve taken note of all the regulars — being one yourself.

he already knows your name when the barista calls it out. he wants it willingly, though. he doesn’t have to wait long, thankfully. you settle into your familiar chair and pull out a half-read, well-worn book. he comes over to introduce himself.

he doesn’t give you his name, but you more than happily say yours. you like the way his eyes sparkle, the way your name sounds on his tongue.

you start to see him more often, and your heart always skips a beat when he looks to you and a soft smile graces his lips. you swear he doesn’t smile like that at anyone else. you start sitting together in that little coffee shop, comfortable silence as you read and he writes or draws or does the daily crossword. other times, he’ll ask you about your book and you help him on the puzzles.

you don’t think he actually needs your help, but you’re not about to stop.

the shop likes to have an assortment of pastries; changing with the season or holiday or whenever they think of something new to try. you share yours with him, even though he protests every time.

he starts getting the pastries before you arrive. he knows what you like, knows what you’d like to try. it’s a bit curious, but cute.

:)

He's so sweet and charming! How could you not love Gaz when he's so endearingly hot and looks at you like you hung the stars in the sky?