💌 Heart To Heart

“You’d think he was raised in a lab for success, and there’s no doubt that Max was forged in the fire of a family quite literally geared towards accomplishment”

There’s so much I want to say on this topic but I’ll be here all day.

Max, no one could ever make me hate you❤️

THATS FAMILY 😭😭❤️

i am so horrendously down bad for kenan

🎀 | public courting • ky10

part 1

( pairing ) kenan yildiz x reader

smau!

liked by kenanyildiz_official, bsf11 and others

ynusername - when in rome

load comments

kenanyildiz_official - love italy ❤️

| user12 - bro has no game 💀

| randomuser - ARIANA WHAT ARE YOU DOING HERE?

| user9 - is he… flirting?

user45 - bella 😍

user8 - kenan in the comments does he even know yn 😭

bsf11 - photo credits ? 😒

| ynusername- my wonderful photographer ladies & gents

bsf11 - gorgeous girl

❤️ by author

user33 - kenan in the comments 👀

| user31 - can you blame him

user21 - idk if i wanna be her or be with her.

liked by kenanyildiz_official, bsf11 and others

ynusername - what girl doesn’t love flowers? ly @bsf11

user21 - @user2 take some lessons

| user2 - u first

bsf11 - luv you 😚

❤️ by author

kenanyildiz_official - oh

| user31 - pack it up bro

lorenzo_zurzolo - those flowers look pretty

| ynusername - ikr!

| user97 - lmao and poor kenan can’t even get a like on his comments 😭

user4 - kenan needs to up his game bro

liked by kenanyildiz_official, bsf1, ardaguler and others

ynusername - 🎀

user12 - face card of the century

bsf11 - gorgeous

lorenzo_zurzolo - 😍

| user1 - 🤔

kenanyildiz_official - cool 👍

| user12 - bffr 😐

| user0 - he’s hopeless

| ynusername - thanks!

| user086 - what.

| user00 - 🙂‍↕️

liked by kenanyildiz_official, ardaguler and others

ynusername - ?

bsf11 - missed you

kenanyildiz_official - cool 😎

| ardaguler - yo bro thanks for lending me your porsche

| ferdikadioglu - thanks for the billion dollar gift card man

| can.uzun10 - remember the time you gave me one of your 26 yachts for my birthday? appreciate 🙏🏻

| ilyaas.61 - thanks for saving my grandma from a deadly fire bro

| user2 - thanks for solving world hunger legend 🙏🏻

user7 - what are these comments 😭

user0 - looks like everyone’s team kenan?

ynusername posted a story

seen by 297k viewers

replies

kenanyildiz_official

hope u liked the flowers 😊

user12

WHO IS GIVING MY GIRL FLOWERS???

user2

HELLO THE SIZE OF THAT BOUQUET

buy me one as well 🙏🏻🙏🏻

juve’s new kit looks so good

this never felt so good

There is no stronger force than that of a girl’s desperation to write about her male hyperfixation.

Hello

hope that you are well

Please help us,May God bless you 🙏

I'm Etaf from Gaza Palestine

I am a mother of five smart children.

speaking to you with a heavy heart on behalf of my family who urgently need help.

The war has destroyed everything we own.

It destroyed everything my husband and I built for these children.

Now we don't have anything, We do not have the price of rent, or education. We want you to contribute to open a project for my husband, please.

read and Share the link Private in my campaign

,My campaign has been verifiedBy Operation Olive Branch . 🌿

donate, not hesitate to do so and rest assured that God will reward you because we are in dire need of that. And share the link on social media that would be kind of you. May Allah make you happy all your life dear Thank you. 🙏

Hi guys! check this out 🤍🤍

Can you do a Angst Arda ff story where he has a bestfriend and a girlfriend but he only hangs out with his bestfriend and the reader starts to feel left out.

And it went on for about 2 months and the reader couldn’t hold it anymore because Arda barely spent time with her at her worst days and she leaves him at the end.

But there’s a plot twist.

She wanted to spend time with him because she was diagnosed with cancer but he obviously couldn’t so she left him with a goodbye letter where she confesses her feelings and he eventually feels guilty and regret.

WITH LOVE, • ARDA GÜLER

( pairing ) arda güler x reader

i actually love this request esp the best friend part because, real.

warnings - character death, maybe slight grammatical errors

Everyone had warned you about the girl best friend, that it was a world wide experience to most, if not all, girlfriends where they would be a third wheel in their own relationship.

You had been warned by everybody, a collection of stereotypes thrown at your way and your only way to refute them was, “well, the boyfriend wasn’t arda.”

You were so confident that Arda would never replace you, would never prioritise anyone else above you and at first, this confidence hadn’t been misplaced.

Arda made you feel like you were the moon in a sky full of stars. You were charmed by him, why wouldn’t you be?

Unfortunately you should’ve listened to your friends when they told you about the three month rule and the inevitable consequence of dating a man who had a girl best friend.

You should’ve listened when they said that a guy is only friends with a girl they find attractive.

You should’ve listened to them, when your dates became group hangouts, where your usual passenger princess seat was designated for Arda’s best friend because Arda had picked her up before he’d come to get you.

You should’ve heeded the warnings when you were left there blinking owlishly while Arda laughed himself off to an inside joke shared with another girl. With the best friend. With a girl that wasn’t you. He was laughing. At an inside joke. Something you couldn’t understand.

You had never felt more lonely, knowing that someone else had discovered the secret parts of Arda, your person, when you had only just began to scratch the surface.

You knew what he liked and what he didn’t, but she knew the stories behind his preferences, was there when he made these decisions. And it hurt, it felt like a knife twisting around your gut, because even though you were the one who held Arda’s hand, even though he was always there, he still managed to feel so far apart. Out of reach for you.

At first, it was easy to brush off the unease. They were best friends, after all, and you knew better than to be jealous. Arda was charming in his own right, with that effortless way of making everyone around him feel important. But as time went on, the charm began to wear thin, replaced by a growing ache in your chest that you couldn’t quite name.

It started with the little things, because it was always the little things, wasn’t it?

The way Arda’s eyes lit up when she walked into the room, a brightness in his eyes that you had noticed only rarely when he looked at you, a look that you had to work hard for that she so effortlessly attained.

The way he would talk about her, his best friend, and it was indisputable the way his voice would soften, laced with fondness and warmth that made your heart twist with something bitter.

You tried to ignore it, telling yourself it was nothing, that you were being paranoid, but the doubt lingered, gnawing at the edges of your happiness.

You remember the first time you truly felt like a third wheel. The three of you were out for dinner, and it had scared you, how fast date night had turned into more than just you and Arda alone.

The conversation flowed easily between them, a rhythm you struggled to keep up with. You laughed at their jokes, nodded along to stories you weren’t a part of, but it was like watching a movie you weren’t cast in. Arda made some offhand comment, and her laughter rang out, loud and free, and the pride in Arda’s eyes at eliciting that very reaction made you want to claw out your own. You had tried to join in, but the moment had already passed, leaving you feeling awkward and out of place.

It escalated to the point where you felt like you were watching them from behind a glass wall, there but only barely. You were only an onlooker, watching but never part of the moment.

You began to wonder whether Arda even realised you were there.

It hurt, but you swallowed the pain, telling yourself it was just your imagination. But the cracks in your relationship widened, little fissures that deepened with every glance, every shared moment you weren’t a part of. You tried to bring it up once, tried to tell Arda how you felt, but he brushed it off, laughing softly as he assured you there was nothing to worry about.

“You’re being silly,” he said, pressing a kiss to your forehead and then it was back to her again.

The kiss had meant to be warm, but you only felt a deep bone chilling cold, freezing you in place.

The little kiss on your forehead, a gesture of comfort, had brought more pain to you in that moment than anything else.

The pain had begun to grow so egregious, it had begun to affect you physically, that when you began to cough up blood, you had felt at first that it was only your bleeding heart. It wasn’t long after that when you started to feel the changes in your body. The fatigue that wouldn’t go away, the bruises that appeared without reason, the weight loss you couldn’t explain. You tried to ignore it, chalking it up to stress or exhaustion, but deep down, you knew something was wrong. You could feel it, a quiet dread settling in the pit of your stomach, growing heavier with each passing day.

Arda had been so caught up with her, he never noticed.

Of course a visit to the Doctor, alone, confirmed that you had a diagnosis of terminal cancer, and not just a severely broken heart.

You had sat there, in the cold sterile room, resigned at your fate, the doctor’s words echoing inside your head.

“We found something,” he had said, his voice gentle but firm. The words that followed blurred together, a litany of medical terms and probabilities, but the meaning was clear enough. It was cancer—aggressive, late-stage, the kind that doesn’t leave much room for hope.

You decided that you would keep this to yourself. Finding that telling Arda to be something more difficult than the entire ordeal you had been subjected to.

All you felt was if, when, your presence would disappear from Arda’s life, would he miss you? And then you shook your head, how could he, because you had already disappeared from Arda’s life ages ago.

You came to the realization that though you had still a beating heart, you were a ghost now, haunting the edges of a relationship that no longer felt like yours.

You went home that day, walking through the door as if nothing had changed. Arda greeted you with a smile, asking how your day was, and you answered with a lie that came too easily, your voice had remained steady, betraying nothing. You sat with him on the couch, feeling their warmth beside you, but all you could think about was how much time you had left—how many more moments like this you’d get,

You felt selfish, knowing that you weren’t breaking up with him even if your relationship had come to an end ages ago. You wanted to delude yourself into thinking that Arda, some part of him atleast, still loved you.

And when the pain became too much, when your body started to betray you with weakness and exhaustion, you found excuses. You were tired from work, you said. You weren’t feeling well, maybe just a cold. Arda would look at you with concern, but he believed you—why wouldn’t he? He had no reason to doubt you, no reason to think that something so terrible could be lurking just beneath the surface.

The days blurred into weeks, and the cancer spread, a silent invader you couldn’t stop. You could feel it inside you, gnawing away at your strength, your hope, your future. The pain was constant now, a dull ache that radiated through your bones, but you bore it in silence, hiding the worst of it behind closed doors. You were familiar with heartache, what was a little more agony?

But Arda was perspective, at least somewhat. He noticed how you’d down a pill after every meal, the pallor of your skin, and your ghostly complexion. He noticed the bags under your eyes, and how frail you’d gotten, but it was too late.

You felt the day arrive, the day you knew that your life had reached its end, and it had took all your energy to muster up the strength to write everything you had wanted to say into a letter.

Dear Arda,

I don’t know how to begin this letter, and even if I did, I’m not sure it would be enough to say all that I need to say. But I’m running out of time, and I need you to hear this, even if it’s only in the words I leave behind. By the time you read this letter, you’ll know why I’ve written it.

First, I want you to know I’ve always admired you, Arda. From the moment we met, I knew there was something special about you—something warm and bright that drew people in, like a lighthouse in the dark. I’ve watched you bring so much joy to those around you, and it hurt me incredibly when I realised that I never did the same for you, rather it was your best friend, but now that I’m going, i’m happy that you have someone who makes you just as happy as you do with everyone else.

I have told you this, but i’ll say it again,I love you, Arda. Even though loving you hurt me more than anything, i’m grateful to have met you, and I wish nothing but the best for you, I wish you happiness for eternity.

I’m sorry for not telling you sooner. I’m sorry for keeping you in the dark about what was happening to me, but I couldn’t bear the thought of you looking at me with pity, of you worrying about me when you already had so much on your shoulders. I didn’t want you to see me like this, broken and scared, knowing there was nothing you could do to stop it. You were always so strong, so solid, and I couldn’t bear to take that away from you.

By the time you read this, I’ll be gone, Cancer does that. I’m sorry I didn’t say goodbye in person, but I knew I wouldn’t be able to hold it together if I did. I wanted you to remember me as I was, not as I am now. I wanted you to keep that image of me in your mind, whole and happy, instead of the person I’ve become.

Anyway, I’m asking you to live your life, Arda. Don’t let my passing weigh on you. Don’t let it stop you from being the person you’re meant to be. I want you to be happy. I want you to find joy, even if it takes time. You deserve that. You deserve everything good in this world.

I loved you, Arda. I still do. And I’ll carry that love with me, wherever I’m going. Please don’t cry for me. Just remember me, and remember that I wanted you to live, really live, even after I’m gone.

With love,

You signed the letter and then, finally, you allowed yourself to cry.

Sobs wracked through your body, all the pain that you felt flowing out like a waterfall and that’s how you left, tear stained cheeks and curled up in bed.

It was pitiful, but it had been how you felt, Helpless.

When Arda came home that evening, he found the apartment eerily quiet. The air felt thick, heavy with something he couldn’t quite place. He called your name, but there was no answer. He knew you had been feeling off lately, more tired, more distant, but he never expected this. His heart pounded in his chest as he made his way through the apartment, a creeping dread settling in his stomach.

And then he saw you.

You were lying on the bed, your body still, too still. He rushed to your side, his breath catching in his throat as he called your name again, louder this time, but still no response. His hands shook as he reached out to touch you, his fingers trembling against your cold skin.

“Please,” he whispered, his voice breaking. “Please, wake up…”

But you were gone.

The realization hit him like a freight train, knocking the breath from his lungs. He collapsed beside you, his hands clutching at you desperately, as if he could somehow pull you back from the brink. Tears streamed down his face, hot and unrelenting, as the full weight of your loss crashed over him.

He found the letter on the nightstand beside the bed, your handwriting scrawled across the paper, shaky but familiar. With trembling hands, he unfolded it, his eyes scanning the words you had left behind for him. As he read, his tears fell harder, soaking the paper, smudging the ink.

The letter was like a knife to the heart. Every word was a reminder of how much you had suffered in silence, of how you had loved him, even as you were slipping away. He could barely breathe as he read your confession, and when he reached the end of the letter, regret consumed his being, enveloping and guilt drowned him.

He cried, his sobs wracking his body as he clutched the letter to his chest. He cried for you, for the time you didn’t have, for the things he never said. He cried for the feelings he hadn’t realized you felt, for the guilt that now gnawed at him, knowing you had kept this burden from him, from everyone. He cried because he couldn’t save you, because you were gone, and there was nothing he could do to bring you back.

But he cried most for his blindness, how couldn’t he have noticed how you had felt, how had he let you feel so unloved, so ignored.

Self loathing plagued him as he sat there, pondering whether he could have saved your life, only if he hadn’t been so stupid.

He wished for time to turn back, he wished to change the way he had treated you, but it was too late.

fin.

Heyyy love❤️

Could u maybe write where Kenan is dating reader and they have an argument in his car cuz he used to see her friend before they two met but it wasn’t serious they only went out on 2-3 dates, so yn feel guilty for seeing him, but kenan reassures her she shouldnt feel that, and… mby some smut if ur comfy writing that!

THE OTHER WOMAN • KENAN YILDIZ

( pairing ) kenan yıldız x reader

warning - angst (obviously!) also i’m sorry but i don’t feel comfortable writing smut i still hope u enjoy this tho!!

Falling in love with Kenan had been the last thing you’d expected from yourself, hell, you’d never have even thought there would be an opportunity where you would see him as anything more than the guy your friend had been seeing.

Unfortunately for you, Kenan made it easy for you, with his little gestures that would leave any girl fawning, it was inevitable that your feelings developed into something more potent.

When you had first met him, it was at lunch with your entire group of friends, and in that moment, Kenan had only been a rather handsome stranger, albeit your friend hadn’t yet sought out his affection.

And then the next time you saw him, your friend had announced that she’d reached out to him, and he had agreed, and soon one date had turned to three, and though they weren’t dating, they were something. Thus the little fire that had been ignited in your heart was brutally stomped upon and extinguished.

That was till Kenan had approached you at a bonfire with all your friends lost, and your group was a rather large bunch, so you hadn’t found his presence odd, rather it was the skip of your heartbeat that had you feeling alienated.

It had only been one conversation then, you’d thought to yourself that night, trying to console yourself that you hadn’t done anything wrong.

But then Kenan began to reach out more often, he initiated conversations from the blue, and you couldn’t help yourself, enjoying how freely you could express yourself to him in a way that you hadn’t ever been able to with anyone else.

You met him at cafes, he drove you around town, and at night you wandered off with him on idle walks that felt like a walk through the gardens of eden, simply due to his presence.

You enjoyed how he lingered on to every word you said, listening to the things you had to say with utmost importance, as if he wasn’t a world star footballer with far more important things to do. As if there was nowhere in the world he’d rather be, than by your side, listening to you chatter on about the most mundane things ever.

He remembered things about you that you yourself hadn’t noticed, like the fact that you tapped the little teaspoon on the cup of your coffee before you took a sip, or the way you would fiddle with the little charm on your bracelet whenever you were anxious.

He noticed you, and he saw you for you.

In return, you began to look past Kenan the footballer. Kenan who always texted his mother after he ate, reassuring her that he was alright despite being miles apart, Kenan who enjoyed rap music whenever he drove you around, Kenan who preferred his coffee loaded with sugar and Kenan, who struggled a little with expressing himself.

Perhaps this act of noticing had been the inaction on your friend’s part that had lead to Kenan, too, to develop feelings for you, that in your opinion, were not acceptable.

Perhaps this had been the cause of what lead to your predicament right now.

Seated in the passenger seat of his car, the usual loud music that he played muffled by the sound of both your voices.

“This is wrong, Kenan.” You shouted for the nth time, tears of frustration at the corners of your eyes.

The air was tense and suffocating in a way it had never been before, not with kenan.

He clenched his jaw. “Why can’t you understand, it’s not that serious?”

“Don’t just brush this off like it’s nothing,” your voice rose in frustration, “She was my friend, and” you shook your head.

“Just, we can’t be together, it feels wrong.”

Kenan makes an aggressive cut on the road, swerving the car around, and you notice the way his expression hardens further, “Stop overthinking this! We went out a few times, so what? Big deal” His voice rises to match yours, “I don’t understand why you’re make this bigger than it needs to be.”

“Of course you don’t.” You snap at him.

“You won’t have to face her, show your face around knowing that you betrayed her? She’s my friend, she won’t like it that we started going out when you’re technically her ex!”

He keeps one hand on the steering wheel as he runs the other one through his hair, gripping a little at the edges of the strands a little in an obvious display of frustration.

“How is this betrayal? It’s not like we were in love, we weren’t even that close, you’re making it seem like so much more serious.”

“Kenan you don’t-“

He cuts you off before you can utter out what you want to say, “Stop making this such a big deal, you’re blowing things way out of proportion!”

You feel a sting at his words. “It is a big deal to me! You may not think it was serious, but have you considered that she might have? How will i face her knowing how bad i’ve hurt her.”

Kenan pauses, hearing the despair in your voice, Concern arises in his gaze as he looks at you for a moment, taking his eyes off the road.

“I didn’t mean to hurt you,” his voice is softer now, “but you need to understand. What your friend and i had? it was nothing. It was short and casual, it meant nothing.”

"But it meant something to me," you insist, the anger in your voice giving way to a deeper vulnerability. "I care about her, and I care about our friendship. I just don’t want to feel like I’m doing something wrong."

The car rolls to a stop, evident that you’ve arrived to your destination and then Kenan removes his hand from the wheel, turning to you and grabbing your own.

“Hey, hey, i get it. You’re worried about her, how she might feel about this, but i promise to you, there’s no bad blood between us, she’s moved on, and she’ll be happy for you, not betrayed by you. You don’t have to feel guilty for your feelings.”

You blink away the tears in yours eyes, swallowing dryly.

“You really think so?” Your voice is barely a whisper.

“I know so.” He smiles and then he frowns.

“Did she not tell you that I’d asked her for your number, and she’d been happy about it?”

Your mouth drops open at his words, “What? and all this time?”

Kenan chuckles at you, “I wouldn’t want you to have to choose between me or your friend, I’m sorry i didn’t understand sooner”

You feel as if a mountain has been unloaded off your back, relief enveloping you.

The air around you that had previously been tense turns into something gentler.

Kenan pulls you close, nuzzling his nose against your hair as he wraps his arms around you.

“I just didn’t want to lose either of you.”

“You won’t,” He brushes a strand of hair from your face, “If you want, we can talk to her again,” He smiles at you, tapping your head, he adds, “my worrywart.”

You grimace at the term, but then smile, pressing a small kiss to his nose.

“Thank you.”

fin.