Heellooo
I request where kenan and yn is dating and have for 2-3 months but keeping it secretly, cuz of his career, and kenan and his friend cubanito doing a livestream, and kenan gets spammed if he’s seeing someone, but he tries to keep it private and try to dodge the questions, cuz its rumored he’s dating someone that is not YN that the people suspect, but he is seeing YN, and his friend try to confirm he’s not seeing that girl, but kinda seeing someone else? which is YN
❤️
THEY DONT KNOW ABOUT US • KENAN YILDIZ
( pairing ) kenan yıldız x reader
i love this so much i rlly hope i’ve written it to your liking
ps i used karlotta as the rumoured girl
liked by karlottafan and others
footballwags - kenan yildiz in the likes of this model 👀 is she his new beau?
comments
user86 - who uses the word beau 💀
karlottafann - they’d look so cute together 🥹
user86 - those posts are from ages ago tho?
user09 - another one bites the dust
user97 - footballers and models what’s new 🥱
user98 - someone confirm this asap
user02 - he def slid into her dms
user037 - dating for sure
The apartment feels quiet without him, the kind of quiet that settles deep, filling every corner with the absence of his laughter, his low voice, the warmth of his presence. You’re curled up on the couch, phone in hand, scrolling through the endless stream of notifications that come with dating someone like Kenan. It’s been three months now—long enough that you know the feel of his hand on the small of your back, the way his thumb traces idle patterns against your skin when you’re watching movies, the little half-smile he gives when he thinks you’re not looking. But still early enough that everything feels new, each touch a rush, each shared glance a secret you’re both savouring.
It’s also long enough that the rumours have started, circling like vultures around your little bubble of privacy. You both agreed from the start to keep things quiet, at least for now. His career is always in the spotlight, scrutinised by fans, tabloids, and everyone with an opinion. And then there’s you—part of his world but never quite fitting into the neat little narratives they want to create. So you’ve kept it hidden, the two of you slipping through back doors, stolen moments in between his rehearsals and public appearances, and late-night drives through empty streets where the rest of the world doesn’t matter.
Tonight, he’s across town, sitting in Cubanito’s sleek, minimalist living room, the kind of place that’s made for being on camera. You know this because you’ve been there—laughing, sprawled out on the couch with Kenan’s arm around your shoulders, out of view of the lens. It’s where they do their live-streams, just the two of them bantering about everything and nothing, their easy chemistry drawing thousands of viewers every time they go live. You usually like to watch, listening to the sound of Kenan’s voice through your phone, letting it fill the space when he’s not with you.
You open the app and the live stream is already buzzing with activity, the chat scrolling faster than you can read. Kenan is sitting on the left, relaxed in his usual way, hoodie pulled up just enough to shadow his eyes but not hide that familiar, lopsided grin. Cubanito is beside him, gesturing wildly as he talks, always the louder, more animated of the two, but Kenan’s calm presence keeps everything grounded.
You watch them for a while, smiling at the banter, the way Kenan leans back, completely at ease, laughing at something Cubanito says. But then the comments start shifting, and you notice the questions piling up, flashing bright and insistent:
*Who’s Kenan dating? Is it true about him and that model?*
*Kenan, are you seeing someone? Don’t dodge the question!*
*Kenan, blink twice if you’re with her!*
You feel your heart clench, fingers tightening around your phone. The rumours have been everywhere—screenshots of kenan in her likes, whispers and speculation that he’s dating her, even though you know better. But Kenan’s been careful, dodging the questions whenever they come up, brushing them off with a laugh or a change of subject. Tonight, though, it seems like they won’t let it go.
Cubanito squints at the screen, reading the chat aloud in his usual dramatic fashion, but this time there’s an edge to his voice, a hint of mischief that tells you he’s about to stir the pot. “Yo, Kenan, they’re really going off tonight. Everyone wants to know who you’re seeing, man. Spill the tea!”
Kenan chuckles, but you can tell from the way he shifts in his seat that he’s uncomfortable, his smile tightening just a little. “Nah, it’s nothing like that,” he says, trying to keep his tone light. “People just love to talk, you know how it is.”
Cubanito isn’t having it, though. He leans closer, elbows on his knees, eyes bright with the thrill of teasing his friend. “Come on, Kenan. Everyone thinks it’s that girl—what’s her name? The model? But I don’t know, man. Doesn’t seem like your type.”
Kenan’s smile falters just a fraction, a tiny crack in his usual composure. You know he’s trying to figure out how to handle this, how to keep your secret safe without feeding the rumours. He glances at the chat, then back at Cubanito, his expression caught between exasperation and amusement. “Nah, it’s not like that,” he says again, firmer this time. “I’m not seeing her.”
Cubanito leans back, throwing his hands up in mock defeat. “Okay, okay, you’re not seeing her. But you’re definitely seeing *someone*, huh? Come on, man. We’re all friends here.” There’s a playful edge to his voice, but also a knowing look—a hint that maybe he’s aware of more than he’s letting on.
Kenan shoots him a warning glance, but it’s softened by the faint smile tugging at his lips, the kind that always makes your heart skip a beat. He runs a hand through his hair, and for a moment, he looks right at the camera, right at you, like he’s letting you in on the joke. “Let’s just say… I’m happy,” he finally says, his voice low, almost lost beneath the noise of the livestream. “And that’s all that matters, right?”
The chat explodes, filled with questions and speculation, but Kenan doesn’t pay it any mind. He turns back to Cubanito, deflecting with a joke, steering the conversation back to safer ground, but there’s something in the way his gaze lingers on the screen—a quick, barely-there look that makes your chest tighten. It’s a look meant for you, and you alone, a silent reassurance that no matter what the world thinks, he’s yours.
You feel a rush of warmth, a quiet, private kind of joy that’s just for the two of you. It’s not easy, keeping things quiet, pretending in public that you’re not together when every time you’re alone, he’s the one who makes you feel seen in a way no one else ever has. But moments like this, where he slips you into his world without anyone else noticing, make it all worth it. The stolen kisses, the late-night texts, the whispered promises when no one else is around—it’s messy, and it’s complicated, but it’s yours, and it’s enough.
liked by ynusername, cubanito_official and others
kenanyildiz_official - mein einziger 🤍
comments
cubanito_official - nice 🔥
tarik.muharemovic - little lady is cool 😎
↪️ kenanfan - his friends have met her 🥹
user13 - bro really soft launched blondie to say that model ain’t his girl
user97 - he unfollowed the model 💀💀
user02 - ok but i need to know who she is and ask ab her hair care routine
user09 - couple of the year
fin.
"What we are seeing is the talent of the century"
Max Verstappen, 50 Grand Prix wins
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.
beautiful performance
IL DIECI 🤍🖤
Checo needs to keep the McLaren behind him for Max to catch.
CHECO THIS IS LITERALLY WHAT YOU WERE MADE FOR DO NOT FUCK THIS UP
any arda requests? i want to write for him he’s so underrated 😔
🤍🖤
Maybe something were reader and arda are in a relationship for some years now. (Insta post)
WEST SIDE • ARDA GÜLER
( pairing ) arda güler x reader
just a soft launching thru insta story
liked by ynusername, altaybayindir and others
arda güler - bring the life right back
comments
user96 - caption??
↪️ user7 - caption girl look at the second slide??
altaybayindir - arkadaşım
🤍 by author
ftblwags - 👀
user23 - ARDA GÜLER???
user35 - hell naw bros soft launching
liked by ardaguler, friend1 and others
ynusername - meet me on the west side 🤍
comments
friend1 - this is where you disappeared to and with a MAN
↪️ ynusername - hehe 🤭
friend2 - HELLO WHEN DID THIS HAPPEN???
↪️ ynusername - oops
friend3 - umm what? gc now.
↪️ ynusername - yes maam 🫡
user25 - familiar background…
ynusername posted a story!
seen by 23k viewers
❤️ by arda guler
replies
ardaguler
sevgilim 🤍
friend1
when will we get to meet this mystery man 🤨
liked by toniruediger, ynusername and others
ardaguler - bring the light right back
comments
user13 - ok bro we get it you got a girl
user1 - boyfriend arda is my fav gender
ismailyuksekk - Maşallah Abi
❤️ by author
ftblwags - 🤔
friend1 - hmm @ynusername
user9 - girlfriend effect bro’s posting ariana grande lyrics
user6 - last slide 😳
liked by ardaguler, friend1 and others
ynusername - 🧸🤍
comments
friend1 - tennis huh?
↪️ ynusername - 🙈
user12 - wait…
friend2 - girl where did you find this piece i want one too
❤️ by author
friend3 - cutie 🥹
friend23 - imy yn 💖💖
❤️ by author
ynusername posted a story!
seen by 120k viewers
❤️ by ardaguler
replies
friend1 - enough of this man come how now ☹️
user12 - GIRL IS THAT ARDA???
liked by ynusername, friend1 and others
ardaguler - meet me on the west side
comments
user12 - THE FIRST PIC IS ON YNS STORY
↪️ user13 - who’s yn???
↪️ user12 - @ynusername arda’s girlfriend..?
user96 - omg the caption matches one of her posts
↪️ user7 - girl you always focused on the wrong things he’s literally posted the photo she took 😭
user10 - the one post where he’s not posting his gf is the one that exposes him 😭
ftblwags - 👀
↪️ user75 - girl go get a job
liked by user5, ardaguler and others
ynusername - let me be in your life like that
@ardaguler
comments
ardaguler - the only for sure, aşkim 🤍
↪️ ynusername - 😚😚
friend1 - congratulations!! dunno how you hid it for yrs and one holiday trip exposed u
user7 - the way some of their captions match 🥹
↪️ user96 - who’s looking at captions now???
user13 - god i’ve seen what you’ve done for others
user13 - if you look closely you’ll see me in the back drowning in my own tears
user94 - parents
user195 - how long have yall been tgth ???
↪️ ynusername - 3 years 🥰
ardaguler posted a story!
fin.
Yeah so actually you’re all fucking insane 😭😭 he is a GROWN MAN capable of making GROWN UP CHOICES… like idk if Magui is controversial but still that’s all to do with him, not you. 😭😭 argue with the walls since you’re all crazy enough to think it’ll listen