#kenan yıldız

[httpsdana]

Hiii~ can you make a fiction for Kenan Yildiz where it’s a day off for him and the reader (his wife) and they are having a family day with their 3 years old son and 1 year old daughter , where they are taking care of them , playing a little and when the kids fall asleep they both cuddle in bed and have a romantic talk to sleep.

Thank you in advance sweetheart , your fictions are truly amazing 💗.

Our Little Family~Kenan Yildiz

*Pictures are from Pinterest*

we got wifi in our emergency house so I might as well right some things when im bored. enjoy <3

request from here

master list -> part 2

players/drivers I write for

The sun was just peeking through the curtains when y/n felt a small tug on the blanket. She groaned softly, still half-asleep, but she could already sense what was happening. Their 3-year-old son, Emir, was standing by the bed, his bright brown eyes wide and a mischievous smile on his face. He had clearly been up for a while.

"Mama, Papa," Emir whispered, tugging again, "I'm hungry!"

She heard a soft chuckle beside her. Kenan stirred, his arm slipping around her waist as he opened his eyes.

“Good morning, buddy,” Kenan said, his voice still husky from sleep. “Are you ready for a fun day?”

Emir nodded excitedly, his curly hair bouncing. y/n couldn’t help but smile at his enthusiasm. Sitting up, she heard a second, quieter noise from the baby monitor: their 1-year-old daughter, Leyla, was awake too, babbling to herself in her crib.

“I’ll get her,” she said, kissing Kenan’s cheek before climbing out of bed. Kenan sat up, stretching, and helped Emir onto the bed, where they immediately began playing a silly game of “tickle monster.”

y/n tiptoed into Leyla’s room, finding her sitting up with her chubby hands gripping the side of the crib. Her wide eyes sparkled with joy when she saw her mom. “Mama!” she gurgled, reaching out with her tiny arms.

"Good morning, my sweet girl," y/n cooed, scooping her up and pressing a kiss to her soft cheek. She nuzzled into her shoulder, as she inhaled the familiar baby scent that always brought her peace.

Once both kids were ready, y/n and Kenan decided to take them out for breakfast. The thought of enjoying a morning out as a family filled her with excitement. Emir was already talking about pancakes, and Leyla clapped her hands in delight as she bundled her up in a tiny jacket.

The café they chose had a cozy atmosphere, with a play area for the kids and plenty of space for Leyla’s stroller. As they entered, she saw the sparkle of recognition in Kenan’s eyes—he was already planning to spoil everyone.

The family settled into a booth, Leyla happily perched on her mom's lap as she helped her nibble on small pieces of fruit. Emir was across from her, excitedly showing Kenan how he could color in the activity book the café provided. Kenan leaned over, drawing a little football next to Emir’s attempts at coloring.

Breakfast was filled with laughter as Emir managed to get syrup all over his fingers, and Kenan joked, “We’re going to have to wash you like a car, buddy.” Leyla clapped at every new taste of food, and her giggles echoed around the café as Kenan played peek-a-boo with her.

After breakfast, the four of them headed to the nearby park. The fresh air felt invigorating, and the playground was just what the kids needed to burn off their morning energy. Emir ran straight to the slides, calling for Kenan to follow him. y/n watched as Kenan helped him up the ladder, his strong arms lifting Emir when he got stuck halfway.

“Look, Mama!” Emir called from the top. “Watch me slide!”

She cheered him on as he slid down with a triumphant grin. Leyla, nestled in her arms, reached for the swings, her tiny fingers pointing as she made soft cooing sounds. y/n placed her gently in the baby swing, pushing her back and forth as she squealed in delight.

Kenan jogged over after a few more rounds on the slide with Emir. “I’ll take her,” he offered, lifting Leyla from the swing. She immediately clung to his chest, her little head resting against his broad shoulder. It was a sight that always melted y/n's heart—Kenan was so naturally tender with the kids, and they adored him.

They spent the next hour playing as a family. Kenan chased Emir around, pretending to be a monster, while y/n sat on the grass with Leyla, watching as she tried to walk on her own. Each time she wobbled, she caught her, and she’d look up at her mom with a big, proud smile. Eventually, Kenan and Emir returned, both panting and laughing. Kenan collapsed onto the grass beside y/n, pulling Emir into his arms.

"You’re fast, little guy," Kenan said breathlessly, ruffling Emir’s hair. Emir beamed, clearly proud of himself.

When the afternoon sun started to tire everyone out, they decided it was time to head home. Back in the house, Leyla and Emir’s energy levels had dropped significantly after all the playing and excitement. y/n and Kenan bathed them together, filling the bathroom with giggles as bubbles floated everywhere. Emir splashed, pretending he was a pirate, while Leyla clapped her hands at the water, her eyes wide with fascination.

Once they were in their pajamas, they all curled up in the living room for storytime. Kenan sat on the couch, Leyla nestled in his lap while Emir snuggled into y/n's side, his eyes heavy as she read their favorite bedtime story. It didn’t take long for both of them to fall asleep, their peaceful faces bathed in the soft glow of the lamp.

y/n and Kenan carefully carried them to their beds, tucking each one in with a kiss. Leyla’s tiny hand curled around her stuffed animal, while Emir mumbled something about pirates before drifting back off.

As soon as the kids were settled, y/n and Kenan headed to their room. The day’s events had worn them out in the best way possible, and the moment they slid into bed, Kenan pulled her into his arms, holding her close. His warmth enveloped her, and she let out a content sigh, resting her head on his chest.

"Today was perfect," she murmured, tracing lazy circles on his chest. "I love watching you with them. You’re such a good father."

Kenan kissed the top of her head, his voice soft in the quiet of the room. “I couldn’t do it without you. You make all of this possible. I love our little family.”

She tilted her head up, and he leaned down, pressing a gentle kiss to her lips. The kiss deepened for a moment, full of tenderness and affection. When they pulled away, y/n smiled at him, feeling her heart swell with love.

“Sometimes I still can’t believe this is real,” she whispered. “Our family. Our life together.”

Kenan’s hand moved to cradle her cheek, his eyes soft as he gazed down at his wife. “It’s real, and I wouldn’t trade it for anything.”

With that, they both fell into a peaceful silence, their bodies entwined, hearts full.y/n drifted off to sleep, surrounded by the warmth of Kenan’s arms and the quiet joy of the life they’d built together.

[kenardawin]

[emmylksblog]

A LOSS IS A WIN // KENAN YILDIZ

summary: husband! kenan is left devastated after turkey lost against portugal and you can only provide him with the best news he could get on that gloomy day

genre: angst, comfort, fluff

warnings: pregnancy i guess

words: 1885

a/n: realised this pookie didn’t have a lot of imagines and took matter into my own hands 😈 (i didn’t forget requests i’m working on them i’m just slow 😔)

After a long drive back Kenan and you arrive at your home. Kenan is fuming with anger and frustration to the point he is banging his hands against the steering wheel of the car, while you attempt to calm him down. Finally after a few deep breaths and some silent praying, he unbuckles his seatbelt and get out of the car, slamming the door. You get out the car in a much calmer fashion and walk into the house with Kenan not far behind.

You quietly close the door and flick on the hallway light. Kenan is still grumbling and kicking off his shoes. He walks to the sofa and falls into the cushions, burying his head in his hands.

You hover in the hallway, not sure whether he is ready to be comforted just yet, but still you want to make sure he is ok. You think back to countless nights like these. You know how to comfort him after years, caressing his hair and rubbing his temples always helps to relax him. However, today the match seemed to rile him up more than ever before. He didn’t even seem to notice that you were stood behind him.

Sitting down beside him, you reach down and run your finger through his hair. He still has yet to turn and look at you. Slowly his breathing slows and he leans closer to your touch, as your hand massages his scalp.

Now he is at least breathing normally and seems to be relaxing. He still keeps his face in his hands and continues to stare at the floor, taking deep breaths. You pause your caressing for a moment and watch him carefully, waiting to see if he will say something first.

Kenan stays with his face in his hands for an agonisingly long time. The air in the room feels heavy, like there is a storm coming. You continue the caressing, your fingers moving back and forth through his hair. He lets out a long and dejected sigh, and pulls his head up. He still doesn’t look at you, the disappointment etched onto his face.

Kenan suddenly pushes himself up from the sofa. He mutters something about taking a shower and heads to the bathroom. He is still annoyed and frustrated from the game. Once he grabs a towel and clothes from the bedroom, he enters the bathroom and closes the door. You can hear the shower starting and the banging of clothes being discarded around the room.

With Kenan occupied in the bathroom, you make your way to the kitchen. You decide to prepare some dinner to distract your mind from the events of today. You make something quick and comforting, a simple meal that you often eat after a particularly stressful day.

You are just finishing plating up the food, when Kenan exits the bathroom. He is dressed in an over sized t-shirt and pyjama pants, his hair still wet. It’s a look that you’ve always found adorable, but today his usual cuteness is overshadowed by his obvious annoyance.

He walks into the kitchen and flops into a chair. He sighs loudly and you bring the food to the table, placing a large plate of pasta in front of him. He looks up and gives you a weak smile.

You slide into the chair opposite him. He still hasn’t said anything but has began slowly picking at the food. He is taking slow bites with a lost look in his eyes. You can’t tell if he is going to say something or break down in tears.

Silence pervades the room, as you two eat your food. Every now and then you hear a slurp or clink of a fork against a plate. Kenan suddenly speaks up, his voice quiet and emotionless.

"You know, I really thought we had a chance," he mutters between mouthfuls. He isn’t looking at you, just staring down at his food, a look of disappointment on his face.

You say nothing, just continuing to eat, waiting for him to continue to speak. He takes another bite of pasta and then mutters bitterly, "But we were just never good enough."

He pushes the plate, full of half-finished pasta, away from him. He rests his head in his hands and groans. He mutters “I wasn’t good enough…” under his breath, his voice barely audible.

Your heart aches as you watch him. You know how much he loves football and how hard he works every day to be better. You know this is eating away at him inside, as it does with every loss.

As you walk around to his side of the table, you see tears slowly rolling down his cheeks. You place your hand on his back and start to rub it softly. He takes deep, shuddering breaths, trying to hold back his tears, but it’s all too much. He suddenly buries his face into your stomach and grips your hips tightly.

You thread your fingers through his hair and rub his back slowly and speak soft and sweetly, saying “Baby, it’s ok, it’s ok, I’m here.”

Kenan buries his head deeper into your stomach, breathing heavily. He still grips your hips, as if you are a rock for him to cling to in a storm. “I wasn’t good enough,” he mutters. “We weren’t good enough.”

Softly, you take his face in your hands and make him look at you. You brush away the tears on his cheeks as you say, “Listen to me, you are the best football player I know. You work so hard every day and give your all to be the best. Just because you lost tonight, doesn’t mean that you aren’t good enough.”

He is still breathing heavily, but seems to calm down slightly as he looks into your eyes. “But I wasn’t good enough for this match. I should have done more. I let all of Turkey down, I let them all down.”

You continue to hold his face in your hands, as if to keep him grounded and focused. You continue speaking, “You didn’t let anyone down, I promise. You have done so much for your country. You are amazing at such a young age baby, win, lose or draw.”

He is still breathing deeply, but the tears have slowed. He leans his face into your hands, his eyes watery. He says softly, “I just, I wish I could have won. I wish I could have made everyone proud.”

You gently caress his cheeks, trying to console him as much as possible. “You do make everyone proud. You make me proud, my love.”

He shuts his eyes and takes a few deep breaths. He’s is leaning into your touch, and seems to finally be relaxing. He mutters quietly “I love you,” and grabs onto your wrists, wrapping your fingers in his.

You smile slightly and say back softly, “I love you too, baby.” He is holding onto your wrists like a lifeline, like if he lets go you’ll disappear.

You take a deep breath, knowing this the perfect moment to reveal the news. You look him dead in the eyes and say gently, “You know who else will love you?”

He looks back at you, blinking in confusion. He tilts his head to the side, still a little dazed from his emotions. He is still holding on to you like a lifeline, still not letting go. He says quietly, “Who? Who else will love me?”

You try to calm your beating heart. You say softly, but firmly, “Our baby.”

Kenan is silent for a moment, staring at you intently. His grip on your wrists tightens slightly. He blinks a couple times, clearly not having expected to hear that. He is completely shocked, trying to process what you’ve just said. He mutters out, “What did you just say?”

You smile slightly, trying to calm yourself. You repeat softly, “Our baby. You’re going to be a dad.”

Kenan’s eyes widen in disbelief. He takes a shaky breath, still not quite believing what he’s hearing. “I’m gonna be…I’m gonna be a dad?” he stammers. His voice breaks just slightly, still not letting go of your wrists.

You nod and let tears of joy stream down your face. Kenan’s expression is slowly lighting up, his eyes becoming wider than you’ve ever seen them before. He says back to you in a stammering voice, “We’re having a baby? You’re having a baby? I’m going to be a dad?”

You nod again and a smile begins to cover your face. “Yes, we’re having a baby. I’m going to be a mom and you’re going to be a dad,” you say. Tears are streaming down your face, but they are tears of complete joy.

He suddenly grabs you around the waist and lifts you up into his arms.

You laugh joyously as he swings you around the room, your feet not touching the ground. He is laughing and whooping so loudly you think he’ll wake the neighbours. Even though he was so upset at the result of the game earlier, he is so ecstatic that you are going to have a baby together.

He spins you around and around and you cling on tighter to his shoulders to stop yourself from getting dizzy. He finally comes to a stop, holding onto you so that your feet are off the ground. Both of you are still laughing and holding each other tightly, the atmosphere having completely changed from half an hour ago.

You reach down and kiss him softly on the lips. He responds by holding you closer to his chest and pulling you into the kiss.

He deepens the kiss, holding you close to him. His arms are wrapped tightly around your waist, keeping you from slipping down. His lips are soft and warm against yours as he kisses you passionately.

Kenan breaks the kiss and looks at you, his arms still wrapped tightly around your waist. He rests his forehead against yours and says softly, “I don’t care if I lose every match from now on. This is the best gift I’ve ever received.” He then begins to pepper your face with kisses, your cheeks, your nose, your eyelids, showering you in affection.

“I love you so much. I am so, so very lucky to have you.”

You wrap your arms around his shoulders, holding him close as he nuzzles into your neck.

Kenan bends his knees and slowly lowers you to the ground. Once your feet touch the floor, he bends down himself and places a firm kiss against your stomach, directly where the baby is.

He rests his forehead against your stomach, as he would often do whenever you feel unwell. He takes a deep breath and then whispers softly against your stomach, “Hello little one, it’s daddy.”

He presses another kiss against your stomach, before slowly rising back up to his full height. He wraps his arms around your waist again and pulls you close to his chest. He gives you a kiss on your forehead as he says quietly, “I love you both so much.”

You rest your head on his chest, your head tucked nicely under his chin. You say back quietly, “We love you too, so much.”

[jsprnt]

still being somewhat friends with your ex brings up some jealousy in your relationship

kenan yıldız x reader

A/N: jealous kenan🤌🤌!!! based on this request.

W/C: 1.440

"this one looks better on your feed.." you tell your best friend, scrolling through the pictures you just took of her.

"I know. what would I do without a bestie like you.." she coos, wrapping her arms around your body.

"you'd be stuck with your boyfriend who takes ugly photos.." you chuckle, hugging her back.

"travis can't take pictures for shit. at least kenan takes good pictures of you.." she says, sitting up and fixing her hair.

"I got very lucky.." you beam, grateful for your boyfriend's artistic skills.

"he needs to give travis some tips when he gets here.."

"when does he arrive?" she asks, playing with the frills of your jeans.

"he said he'd be here in ten.." you answer, looking around the house.

your big friend group decided to organize a get together after not being able to meet for a long time. everyone was encouraged to bring their partners, so you didn't hesitate to ask kenan if he would join you.

your boyfriend was an incredibly busy guy, especially with the serie a games starting in a couple days.

but of course, he'd always make time for you.

"hey, y/n can you pass me the chips?"

you look up when you hear a familiar voice, making eye contact with adam.

he was one of your friends, and unfortunately, also your ex.

you didn't even know if you could classify him as an ex, since your relationship lasted a mere month or two, and when both you realized it wasn't going to work out, it ended.

no hard feelings.

well, you could only speak for yourself..

"you want the guac too?" you ask, sitting up to grab the bowl of chips in front of you.

"nah, I like 'em plain.."

you frown at his answer, he must've turned into a crazy person since you broke up, because who enjoys eating plain chips without a dip?

"oh, here.." you slide the bowl over, leaning back into the couch.

you look at your best friend, her face incredibly still. you know, that if you make eye contact with her, you'd both burst out in laughter.

"thanks, y/n.."

you give him a small smile, watching him shove the crispy nachos into his mouth.

"so, where's your boyfriend at?" he mumbles, his mouth unaesthetically full.

"he's coming over in a couple minutes. he's a busy person, you know." you explain, scratching the back of your hand.

you look to your right, silently asking your best friend to break the tension, or save you from the conversation..

"adam, where's your partner? I didn't see you walk in with anyone.."

"yeah, I thought you were dating halle from your finance class?" you question, trying to steer the topic away from your own personal life.

"didn't work out- again.." he sighs, looking directly into your eyes.

you press your lips into a line, shivering, you look at your equally nosy best friend.

"well, it'll work for out for you too eventually. like how I'm with kenan now.."

you try to reassure him, confused when adam suddenly sits up, fixing his posture. his hands move down, and he starts wiping his oily fingers on his jeans.

why did men do nasty things like that?

"what's going to work out eventually?" 

you gasp at the familiar voice, turning around to see kenan behind you.

"you're here.." you beam excitedly, feeling his loving touch from behind. his arm wrapping around your shoulders, as he presses a kiss behind your ear.

"of course I’m here.." he mutters, pulling back when you stand up from the couch to walk around it.

"thank you for coming.." you hug kenan, his strong arms wrapping around you, a little tighter than usual.

"a promise, is a promise.." he mumbles into your ear, kissing your temple. you can feel the soft fabric of his hoodie brush against your cheek. the scent of his musky cologne entering your nose, calming you with its familiar smell.

you hum, feeling his hands trail down your back, a hand touching your lower back.

kenan loved showing his love through touch, but he'd never been a 'pda' person. he always chose to hold your hand or hug you outside the four walls of your shared apartment, so the sudden intimate touches were confusing to you.

not that you would mind, you were in private company, so you'd savor everyone of his touches anyway.

"hello, good to see you.." he tells your best friend, giving her a smile before averting his gaze to adam.

"nice to see you, man.." adam speaks when he notices the look, immediately standing up and walking over.

while you watch your ex walk towards you, you can feel kenan's grip tighten around you. nothing painful, of course, even when not aware, he'd never do anything to hurt you.

he absolutely cherished every second you spent together. whether it was a quick lunch date in between his training sessions, and your university classes or just spending his daily life with you.

never letting you get too cold or too hot. bringing a drink from your favorite café, while you were already sipping on your crappy, watered down, homemade iced coffee. tying your shoelaces without you even realizing they came undone.

at this point, you could request for the urban dictionary to make 'kenan' a synonym for 'gentleman'.

you look up when kenan doesn't greet adam like he usually greets your other friends.

you weren't naive enough to not know why. your boyfriend had long known adam and you had dated briefly, since you didn't feel like it was morally right not to inform him..

of course, kenan had not doubted your loyalty to him. he trusted you, as much as you trusted him.

you couldn't lie and say you were completely fine with still being friends with adam. you'd shared intimate moments together, and going back to that platonic relationship wasn’t something you were 100% comfortable with.

"you arrived pretty late. I guess being a baller is keeping you away from our dear y/n.."

you watch kenan's jaw clench, his jawline getting even sharper as you feel his fingers trace your back.

"I made time, like I'd expect a boyfriend to do.." your boyfriend retorts, his voice steady and firm.

"I would be crazy to lose a person like her.."

your eyes flicker back up at kenan, knowing that jab was obviously about adam and you breaking it off.

"ken.." you call out, patting his chest to get his attention. 

"what is it, baby?" you almost laugh at the voice change. It switches from a rough, deep one to the most honey-soaked tone ever.

"please don't start anything, come on. let's go get some snacks, ‘kay?" you ask, smiling to convince him.

you watch your best friend get pulled away by her boyfriend, it giving you the perfect opportunity to dip.

"okay, that's fine.." your boyfriend agrees, squeezing your hips one more time, before he releases the tension in his jaw. turning around and pulling you away from the frazzled adam.

"jealous boy.." you tease him when he pulls you into a corner, poking his cheek. where his dimples would dent when he’d smile or pull a face.

"I'm not jealous.." he dismisses, reaching up to remove a fallen eyelash from your cheek.

"should I go back and bring adam? ask if he wants a drink?"

"come on. I can have an opinion.."

"that is?" you question, grabbing and popping a grape into your mouth.

"I don't trust the guy for a second, like- what guy befriends his ex?"

"if the ex is as nice as me, I would.." you tease.

"what if I were friend with my ex?" he questions, using elaborate hand movements.

"I would- wait, but this is different, ken. I can't cut him off easily since he's a part of the friend group. it's already kind of awkward between us.."

"awkward? thank goodness.."

you roll your eyes at his happiness, shoving a cracker into his mouth.

"shush, just eat it this, and stop talking.."

"no sharing chips with him, no more.." he hums, chewing on the crunchy snack.

"you saw that?"

"obviously, your friends kept me at the door until I took pictures with them.."

"oh.."

"can we hook him and his ex back up together?"

you scoff, raising a brow. 

"what did I say?"

"stop talking.." he grins, his dimples showing as he looks at you. his brown eyes lighting up in amusement.

"never mind, just give me a kiss.." you say, looking up when he eagerly cups your jaw.

"don't even worry about it .."

[verspia]

Hi!! I would like to request a Kenan × jealous reader. The story can be however you like with whatever genre as long as they have a happy ending <333

THE BOY IS MINE • KENAN YILDIZ

( pairing ) kenan yıldız x reader

i’m so sorry i’ve been pretty inactive recently but college has been rlly busy atm! i’ll get to all your requests and write them as soon as i can!

this is literally the perfect request because i’ve been listening to the boy is mine nonstop and it fits the vibe yk?

If there’s one thing about you that’s commonly broadcast, it’s that you are the jealous type. Not jealous in the sense that you envy what others have, but rather it drives you up the wall when something that is yours is toyed with by another person.

The more accurate term would be possessive, and there’s no denying that you tend to get… territorial when it comes to Kenan.

Truly you can’t be faulted for your avaricious behaviour because Kenan is the sort of individual that can’t help but draw everyone’s eyes to him, and along with it, the desire of a plethora of girls.

It fuels you with an ugly sort of pride that you have what other girls can only dream off, a sharp glint of emotion that is slightly cruel and substantially domineering.

Another part of you feels enraged at the thought of anyone else besides you thinking of Kenan in ways that only you, in your opinion, should be capable of.

It’s not that you aren’t secure in your relationship, rather Kenan makes you feel as if you’re the only girl in the world. He goes out of his way to make you feel special, cherished even, and there’s more than enough clarity that proves, to Kenan, you are the only girl in the universe.

He always has you on his mind, in interviews he manages to mention you in some way or another, and even his celebrations are often dedicated to you. His online persona itself shows this, with you being the only girl in his following, and him being the first to comment and like your posts. Although you two aren’t very public, he has managed to get the point across that he’s yours, and some even say that he seems to orbit around you.

Nonetheless, there are consequences that happen when you’re in a relationship with a famous footballer who’s not only massively talented but also incredibly handsome.

This means that more often than not, some girl will be deluded enough to think she can rub her grubby hands on your boyfriend and blink her abnormally large eyelashes at him and have him wrapped around her nasty little finger.

You’re being harsh, but the green monster inside of you called envy is vicious, and well, Kenan is yours.

You watch with thinly veiled rage as the supposed interviewer brushes Kenan’s arms for the umpteenth time, giggling as she shuffles closer to him, and the next action makes your blood boil, pressing herself on to him.

It’s clear to anyone, in fact even a blind man would be able to tell that your boyfriend is uncomfortable. Kenan’s face is contorted into a permanent grimace that this interviewer seems oblivious to, and from where you’re seated, you can tell that even the camera man has grown to notice the awkwardness that permeates him.

Yet no one does anything, and you feel yourself begin to frown, you can’t help but think, “Is this not workplace harassment?”

Her movements carry a subtle confidence that makes you scoff, but it is evident that she’s clearly unbothered by the lackluster response from Kenan, and seems to show no intention of backing off despite the younger man’s obvious discomfort.

You remain seated, even though you desperately want to run up across the field and rip that interviewer into shreds.

You don’t want to cause a scene, but your patience snaps when she brushes away a strand of hair on Kenan’s face, who’s grimace has now turned into a scowl. Her gaze on him is predatory and you know if it was directed at you from a man, it would make you shiver in disgust.

You stand up, marching down the bleachers and across the freshly cut grass with determination, having had enough of this absurd behaviour.

As you make your way to them, the interviewer makes eye contact with you and you notice a glimmer of smugness flash behind her eyes, but underneath it, her expression bubbles with an annoyance that infuriates you.

Her intentions are clearly anything but innocent but the smile she flashes your way seems to mimic it with expertise. It’s so evidently fake, the sweetness on her face is overpowering and a far cry from the sultry tone she’s had the entirety of this interview, from what you’ve observed.

You have never felt more inclined to slap a person than now, but you keep yourself in check, if this girls wants to get bitchy? Well, you’ll show her bitchy.

Kenan’s expression, on the other hand, brightens at your presence, but his eyes widen a little when he spots the aggression behind in your eyes. The smile on your face is as ingenuine as it gets but before he can say anything to appease you the interviewer opens her mouth.

“Hey… We were just talking about you.” Her voice floats out and it drips with sugar, in a way that makes you want to vomit, your ears cringe as if you’re hearing nails on a chalkboard.

“Oh were you now?”

“Yeah I was just telling Kenan how nice it must be to have a girlfriend who doesn’t seem to care about what the public thinks!”

The backhanded compliment is abrupt and strange, and you’re confused, is that really the best she could come up with?

You almost want to laugh at the absurdity of it all.

One moment this girl is boldly rubbing herself on your boyfriend and the best she can say to you is this?

You’re about to retaliate with a response but then smirk as an idea crosses your mind.

You don’t leave Kenan even a moment to blink or process the situation, even the interviewer and the Camera Man are stunned, as well as the millions of viewers watching the live stream.

Your hand reaches out to grab the collar of Kenan’s jersey, your actions reckless and abrupt, as you grab him closer and pull his head down to yours.

A gasp escapes his mouth as he stumbles a little, surprised and taken aback at your actions, but responds in kind when your lips meet his.

Kenan’s reaction makes it seem like he forgets the events that lead to this moment entirely, melting into you as you cradle his head.

It seems as if you two are lost in another world, just the two of you as everything around begins to blur. You press closer to Kenan, softly kissing him as he responds to your actions just as gently, both of you exhibiting emotion that spells love.

You move your mouth against his, trying to show your adoration to the man in front of you, forgetting the purpose of your actions in the first place as you feel his arms wrap around you.

You begin to lose yourself in his touch, his kisses have your mind feeling hazy and stars cloud your eyes as you sigh into the kiss.

Your whole form begins to turn into puddle, and your mind only seems to echo the singular thought that crosses your mind primary when he’s touching you.

Kenan. Kenan. Kenan. Kenan. Kenan. Kenan.

Like a mantra.

All you can focus on his touch, his hands, his lips, only him.

The same effect seems to reflect on him, as Kenan seems equally as dazed, kissing you fervently like a starved man, as if you’re the first drop of water in an isolated desert.

Kenan drinks you up eagerly, holding you tightly.

You only break apart at the purposeful cough from the interviewer, and you realise where you are.

It takes you a moment to gather yourself and remember what your original motives were, and then a smirk graces your swollen lips.

“Is that right Kenan? Your girlfriend doesn’t care about the public eye” Your voice is smug and sarcastic, filled with pride and the interviewer seems embarrassed, put off by your very public display of affection and the clear response to her supposed insult.

It’s comical to see the snobbish expression on her face be replaced by a look of mortification.

“Huh” is the only reply he offers, and you can only smile at the boy who still seems to be processing the aftermath of your very steamy kiss.

His cheeks are flushed red and his hair is tousled. The look on his face extinguishes all your previous agitation at the moment the interviewer had touched it.

You beam at him, and it’s more than clear to perhaps the whole world now that Kenan is yours, and only you can make him feel and look like this.

You turn back to the interviewer, “Oh! I must’ve gotten distracted, I just came here to say… wait! what’s your name? oh nevermind, I just wanted to say I admire your confidence, walking around like that! Now is the interview done? I’d like to… speak to my boyfriend about something private.”

The interviewer looks even more flustered than you’d have thought possible, and if you were a nicer person, you’d have felt the tiniest bit of sympathy, or atleast pity, for her, but all you feel is a surge of self satisfaction as you watch her mutter something about wrapping up and squaddle away from the two of you.

Once she’s finally disappeared from your sight, you turn to Kenan, who still seems a little astonished, and you can’t help the fondness in your eyes as you run your eyes over him.

He catches the look and his cheeks grow warmer, but he reaches out to cradle your hand, concern in his eyes. “Are you okay?”

Confusion rises in your eyes as you look at him, “Me? I should be asking you that, someone from a mile away could tell how uncomfortable she made you.”

Kenan shook his head, “Don’t worry about me, I can handle myself, I’m a big boy you know” His voice is teasing and you chuckle at him.

“Seriously though, she just wouldn’t take a hint and I didn’t want to be impolite.”

You shake your head at him, tugging his hand a little as the both of you begin to walk out, “I could tell, but I guess we gave her a little show”

Kenan smiled at you, pulling you close as one of his arms comes to rest at your waist.

“Oh you gave her a show alright,” He whispers affectionately, “But i’m glad you did, I don’t mind letting the world know i’m yours.”

You can’t help but blush at his words, your heart flutters wildly in your chest and it’s insane how despite being together for so long, Kenan still has this effect on you.

“Mhm I don’t mind either” Your voice takes on a coquettish edge, as you lean over, your face only inches away from his.

Kenan’s hands wrap around your hips as he grins at you.

“Trust me I know.”

“I should just post a picture of you and I and caption it the boy is mine.”

liked by kenanyildiz_official and others

ynusername - the boy is mine.

comments

kenanyildiz_official - only yours 🤍

user09 - that kiss on live television wasn’t enough girl

↪️ user86 - nah she’s letting yall know that’s HER man

user12 - nah tbf i would’ve done the same if my bf looked like that

user3 - yooo we get it bro

user96 - the second slide??? bro calm down ain’t nobody gonna take her from you

user916 - plss you ended that interviewer with the “what’s your name”

↪️ user1 - lmaooo i would never show my face again

↪️ user123 - i just know she’s crying seeing this post

user - WHATS 4 + 4

user22 - damn.

user0 - yall need a third? pls pls pls 🙏🏻🙏🏻🙏🏻

fin.

[frikosz]

him 🫠😩

[apsmellifica]

A new Kenan ^^ (while celebrating a fan's birthday)

Credit: @dine.674 TikTok account.

[bonmatis]

babe wake up new kenan x jude edit dropped

[elysionfield]

My last post about a football boy got many likes… so now with Kenan yıldız?

[ribesballtarot]

KENAN YILDIZ'S IDEAL TYPE

Team: Turkiye National Team

What is his ideal type?

Five of wands, judgement, two or cups, five of swords, knight of pentacles, the chariot, the devil, ten of wands reversed

His ideal type is someone who can put up with a fight, who doesn't need anyone to defend their honour, who can cover that job by themselves perfectly fine. He definetely isn't into the soft cutesy type but more so an intimidating and strong-presenting persona. This is someone who is also willing to put themselves in danger and risk being ridiculised. This type is firey, very much so abrasive. He likes a resolutive and upfront person who doesn't need help and has their life together, who does not crak under pressure and can take anything.

What personalities does he feel more attracted to?

Nine of cups, five of swords, eight of wands, seven of cups reversed, queen of cups

As I've mentioned before, definetely someone who is upfront and confrontational, who wouldn't let problems linger more than necessary and would want to talk about them —or better yet, fight them through— to find a solution. Personalities that are multifaceted, who can show different sides of themselves to make the other comfortable. Sensitive enough to carry the household and still be sane enough to want to talk you through your issues, nutritional, mature. A hard-worked, who even if they're not at the top of the food chain they have something going on for them. He doesn't necessarily like someone who is up in the clouds, very creative or mystical. He wants something earthy, someone who is aware of the world's current situation. Up to date.

XIX

[yalnizligamahkumbirkiz]

🌟🖤

[httpsdana]

Heyy could you please make a one shot with the prompt,141 with Kenan Yildiz.Where he's just admiring the reader's eyes.Thank you so muchh!!❤️

Pretty Eyes~Kenan Yildiz

*Pictures are from Pinterest*

enjoy <3

request from here

master list -> part 2

players/drivers I write for

141- "What is you're favorite color ?" "The color of your eyes.."

As they walked on the warm sand hand in hand, the sun was slowly setting in the horizon.

"let's sit down for a bit" Kenan said, dropping on the sand and pulling y/n with him.

He sat down, stretching his legs on the ground, as y/n placed her head on his lap, looking up at him.

"how's work been going?" Kenan asked, his fingers brushing softly in her hair.

"it's fine. my boss is a pain in the ass. he just seems to be complaining about every single thing I do or don't do" she said, playing with Kenan's fingers, before kissing them softly.

Just then, the sun shined on them, casting it's golden glow against them. Kenan looked at y/n, noticing how her eyes lit up with the light of the sun. He looked at her face like it was glowing, which it was. The soft glow of the sun as it was setting, made his mesmerized by her beauty.

He looked at her with soft eyes, looking into her shiny eyes as the sun made the color of her eyes more evident and bright.

y/n noticed the silence, so she looked up at Kenan only to see him already staring deeply into her eyes. His intense gaze made a small blush spread on her cheeks, which Kenan loved even more now that the sun was still shining on her skin.

"so...what's your favorite color?" she asked, trying to see if Kenan was listening to her or not.

"the color of your eyes" he murmured, just then he realized what he said. y/n giggled slightly, the blush on her cheeks deepening.

Kenan looked at her with a soft smile, his cheeks in burning red as he just said something without even noticing.

"so the color of my eyes yeah?" she teased, making him roll his eyes playfully.

He leaned down to her, his lips connecting with hers in a few pecks, before he moved to her cheeks, then forehead, then nose, and then finally pecking her lips a few more time as she giggled between each kiss that was being placed on her face.

"you have such pretty eyes. I love them" he mumbled against her lips, his hand reaching out to brush some hair out of her face.

She smiled at his compliment, trying to stop herself from smiling so wide.

"I love your eyes too" she said, making him chuckle.

He kissed her one more time, as the sun disappeared in the sea.

[kenardawin]

[emmylksblog]

MASTERLIST

H.FORT (13)

MARC GUIU (03)

KENAN YILDIZ (01)

FERMIN LÓPEZ

nothing yet

PABLO GAVI

nothing yet

PEDRI

nothing yet

next works…

[jsprnt]

catching your boyfriend studying about your culture before he meets your parents, makes you a tad emotional

kenan yıldız x mexican! reader

A/N: hopefully my knowledge on mexican culture was portrayed correctly, did some research for it as well!! pulled myself together to write this one after being gone so long, hope it was a good comeback 😭 based on this request! 💖

W/C: 1.535

"kenan?”

you call out, stepping into your boyfriend's apartment. stopping in your steps, you listen to figure out if he'd arrived home already.

training had ended an hour ago, and he would always come straight home, waiting for you to arrive.

"babe?" you call out again, taking off your shoes by the door, before walking through the living room space.

"siri, how do you say 'delicious' in spanish?"

you furrow your brows in confusion, wondering what in the world he was doing.

"here are the results on the web for-"

"ugh! no, you-.."

you snort at the frustration in your boyfriend's voice, finally sneaking into his bedroom.

kenan is sprawled out on his bed, lying on his back, as he's holding his phone up to his face.

"do you mean deliciosa or delicioso?"

you watch him jolt from your sudden words, seeing kenan sit up, his face full of shock.

"baby?"

you grin when he acknowledges your presence, walking up to his bed and falling into his embrace. you bury your face into his neck, taking in the scent of his shampoo.

"hi..” you greet, voice muffled by his shoulder.

"when did you get here?.." he smiles, you couldn’t see, but you knew his dimples were showing.

"just now." you answer, pulling away to press a kiss to his cheek.

"i didn't hear you come in, must've gotten too distracted.." he quirks his brows up, a cheeky expression on his face.

"i heard you, don't try to hide your quarrel with siri.."

he chuckles, pushing you back against the pillows before joining you.

"I was- practicing, okay.."

"your spanish? for what exactly?"

you lift your hand, running it through his damp hair, realizing he probably showered before you arrived.

"for tomorrow. you think I'm going to make a fool out of myself- in front of my in-laws?"

you smile at his word choice, lips stretching in amusement.

"your in-laws? and how do you plan to impress my parents, huh?"

you had been dating kenan for a couple months now. of course, the beginning of your relationship was purely about learning so much more about each other. getting to know each other on a level- you could only get to if you actually dated the other person.

as time passed, and the relationship had gotten more serious, you both had come to a conclusion that you should meet each other's parents.

you had already met kenan's parents weeks ago.

though, it was a mere accident since; hanging out in his apartment, meant running into them when they visited their son.

your own family lived a couple hours away. due to the distance, you were going on a small road trip tomorrow. making it just in time for dinner.

your very loving, and hospitable mexican parents would never allow a guest, especially your boyfriend- to drive home the same day. insisting over the phone for you guys to stay over for a couple of days.

"you know, I'm trying to invest a lot of time into researching about your culture.."

"are you? any progress?" you grin, tracing your kenan’s brows. rubbing your finger along the slit in his eyebrow.

"okay, look.." he mumbles, holding back your hand so you don’t poke his eye. he sits up in a split-second, reaching for and shoving a unfamiliar notebook into your face.

you raise a brow in curiosity, reaching out to grab the object.

you hum when you flip it open. observing a multitude of scribbles, flicking to different pages, you see different spanish words along with the translation written, and a few aspects of your culture scribbled down. some having incredibly long explanations, some short ones.

you raise your brows when you notice the small printed images, a wave of emotion washing through you as you notice the long paragraphs about the things you've already taught him about.

the date and time make you realize he’s been writing since the first month you started dating.

"see?" kenan interrupts your emotional moment, making you look up.

"this is- woah.." you mumble, speechlessness taking over your senses, your bottom lip quivering for a second.

you'd never met someone so interested in learning something about you. as small as the gesture may feel to some, seeing your boyfriend study about your culture. such a huge part of your identity with such passion, pulled at your heartstrings.

"you're really sweet, you know?.." you say, glossy eyes looking into his. you take a deep breath through your nose, trying to keep it together.

you don’t know why you’re so emotional. maybe, it’s the nerves for tomorrow, or it is because, you’ve never received such a pure gesture from anyone before kenan.

"what're you- are you okay, baby?" he furrows his brows, taking the notebook out of your hands to inspect the page you stopped at.

"is it wrong? i did so much research, i thought that's how you write it. I'm sorry if i offended you, honey.." kenan immediately blurts, his hand cupping your jaw. moving your gaze to his face,

he looks into your eyes with guilt.

"no, it's not wrong.." you begin, voice low.

"it's just precious.. you're really cute, baby.." you explain, blinking moisture away from your eyes.

kenan freezes, relief flooding his body as he realizes he's not done anything wrong.

"you scared me, y/n.."

"it's not something to cry over though, schatz.." he runs his other hand over your back, planting a sweet kiss on your temple.

"It's really touching..."

"I've never had anyone show this much interest in my identity. I'm really grateful that you're such a sweet person.."

kenan coos at your last words, pulling you into a tight, warm embrace.

"c'mon that's the least I can do. I love you, and everything about you is interesting to me."

you snuggle into his chest, hand touching his bicep.

"also, did you think I was going to meet your parents with zero knowledge about your background? you've taught me a lot already, but I need more topics to talk about so your parents will like me.."

"they already like you from what I've told them.."

"well, I doesn't hurt if I become their favorite son-in-law.."

"son-in-law? you want them to like you even more than my sister husband?"

"trust me, with the research I've done, it’s easy work.”

you chuckle, looking up from his chest.

"are you just going to steal their hearts with your knowledge on our culture?"

"I'll make sure they'll understand how much I love you, and care for you as well. I have to convince them that their pretty daughter is safe and sound with me.."

"you've planned it all out, huh?" you raise your brows, analyzing his cocky, but loving expression.

"I'm still nervous, I've got to admit." kenan bites his bottom lip, looking down at your snuggling frame.

"just be yourself, they'll love you.." you reassure him, patting his bicep.

your boyfriend gives you a soft smile, pulling you down into his bed.

"cold?" he asks, already pulling the blanket on your body without waiting for your answer.

"yeah, is the air-conditioning on?"

"forgot to turn it off, hold on.."

he reaches for a remote on his nightstand, lowering the volume of the air conditioner before getting under the covers with you.

"there, comfy?"

you hum, pressing your face into his chest. kenan's arms wrapped around your frame.

"good.."

you both go silent for a moment, soaking into each other's comforting presence.

your bodies heat up from the warmth between you. your boyfriend's ears red and flushed.

"what are you thinking of?" you break the peaceful silence, lifting your gaze up to his.

"should I greet your dad with a hand? or is that too formal?"

you snort at the thought, eyes closing as you laugh at him.

"it's a serious question, babe.." he whines, placing his hand on your shoulder to pull you out of your laughing fit.

"a hand is fine.." you choke out, biting your lip to muffle your laughter.

"okay.."

"what dishes are they making?" he asks curious, a hand reaching out to poke your cheek. 

"mhm, some you already know. but I'll keep it a secret- oh!"

your sudden reaction makes kenan's eyes go wide, his brows raising slightly in anticipation.

"what?"

"you have to remember, eat the inside of the tamales, not the surrounding wrapping.."

"eat the filling only? okay, easy.."

"keep it in mind.." you tease, poking his chest..

"I know, I'll try to remember.." he grumbles, burying his face into your neck.

you'd cooked the dish only once in the past for kenan. you thought not eating the corn tusk was common sense, but you were wrong when kenan almost chocked on the first bite..

you run a hand down his back, the memory fading as you both go quiet again.

"baby.." you call out, feeling his warm breath fanning your neck.

"hm?" kenan hums, his senses overwhelmed with sleep.

"have I ever told you that my dad supports ac milan?"

you chuckle when kenan jumps up. the sleep gone from his eyes.

you know, this is going to be a long night of him complaining..

[verspia]

Hi I saw you’re Arda angst ff and I fucking loved it!! I wanted to request a Kenan Yildiz angst fanfic where the reader and Kenan had to get arrange married. But he hated her. He always brought other woman home and she really got sad because she never had the chance to experience real love. Not even from her parents.

He always kept her hidden from social media because he was embarrassed of her. She always went alone and done things alone. The reader is a quite person she an introvert she doesn’t really talk that much or express feelings so she always stays quiet. And she had a really bad childhood, got be@ten up and ignored. She never had a normal childhood. By the time Kenan never knew he starts to see her alone at restaurant or pic nics alone and started to feel guilty but never brought it up.

So one day the reader thought she’s alone at home and Kenan told her that he’ll be away.

So she wanted to sleep without a shirt. And that night Kenan appears there because the game got cancelled and when he approached her he saw her scars on her back that were caused by her parents. He starts to regret treating you like that and starts treating you better and spends time with you.

You can make a fluff or bad ending doesn’t really matter but I always prefer bad endings hehe I would really love for you to make this a story !!

💓💓💓

SAD GIRL • KENAN YILDIZ

( pairing ) kenan yıldız x reader

warnings - trigger warning, violence and abuse, a lot of angst. I tried my best and i hope this meets your expectations 💞

In your eyes, the marriage had been perhaps the best thing to have ever happened to you. It provided you with the opportunity to escape the clutches of your dysfunctional family, and finally find some semblance of normalcy in your life.

Knowing that it had been Kenan had made you feel exhilarated, a feeling that you weren’t quite used to.

Kenan had been reputable for being a rather charismatic gentleman, and his polite, sweet demeanour had been all the talk on your wedding day. You hadn’t met him yet, but the idea of him had made you fall in love.

You couldn’t be blamed, because to you this concept of genuity was so foreign to you, that daydreaming about it had made you feel as if you were on cloud nine.

That was until you truly got to know Kenan behind closed doors. Except you never truly got to know him.

Unlike you, Kenan found this marriage an unappealing burden that had chained him down to a person he could not care less for.

He was incredibly indifferent to your presence, and continued on about as if your marriage had never happened. After the ceremony had occurred and you’d been driven off to a fancy villa, Kenan had behaved as if you didn’t exist.

He never acknowledged your presence until absolutely necessary, and it felt as if you were a ghost living inside this empty house, begging, yearning to be noticed, but never spared a single glance.

For you this marriage had ignited a flicker of hope, of learning to love, and for building a meaningful relationship, a turnabout from the life your parents had imposed on you. You hadn’t imagined anything would hurt more than the scathing words and harsh treatment that they had inflicted upon you, until you were faced with the brutal rejection from Kenan. Atleast, at your parents house, you were never ignored, but with Kenan, you didn’t feel like a person, you felt like a soul in purgatory, suffering endlessly and without anyone to turn to.

This marriage with Kenan broke you in ways that you hadn’t thought possible. How could a rejection from the man you had been promised to have hurt so agonisingly when you didn’t even truly know him?

You couldn’t explain the stark difference in his behaviour from what you’d heard to what you’d experienced, and thus, the only person you had to blame was yourself.

Some nights, when the house is quiet and Kenan’s side of the bed is cold and empty, you lie awake and wonder what it is about you that makes you so unlovable. It’s a question that haunts you, clawing at the edges of your mind until it’s the only thing you can hear. You think back to your childhood, to the years spent trying and failing to earn your parents' love. You tried to be good, to be perfect, to be everything they wanted, but nothing was ever enough. Every cruel word, every slap, every moment of their disdain etched itself into your soul, carving out the belief that you were broken, unworthy, fundamentally flawed. You remember having gone through lengths, making sure you were academically on top, and when that wasn’t enough, pushing yourself towards sports to prove that you were capable, but despite these achievements, your parents refused to acknowledge any of it. You remember once, sitting at the edge of your room, if the tiny space could even be called that, your cheeks red from the stinging slaps and your arms littered with bruises, and not a single tear in your eyes. You felt hollow, the one question rotating over in your head, again and again and again.

“What is wrong with me?”

Your marriage with Kenan has only made this thought return full force, from when it just lingered to the back of your mind, to now always on the forefront of your thoughts, on the tip of your tongue, as if any moment you’d ask the question, say it out loud, but no matter.

Kenan never hears you anyway.

You sit in the spacious lounge of this house, Kenan is home, but you are alone. He’s with someone, another girl who doesn’t share the misfortune as you do, who’s laugh echoes around the house and to you, feels like nails on a chalkboard, pinching at your ears and leaving the heart you have in your chest aching worse as the clock ticks by.

Once again, you sit there and contemplate for perhaps the umpteenth time, the same question that oppresses you.

You see the same disappointment in Kenan’s eyes, the same coldness, the same quiet contempt that tells you what you’ve always feared, there’s something wrong with you. You’ve begun to believe it must be true because why else would Kenan treat you this way? Why else would he refuse to look at you, to touch you, to acknowledge that you’re anything more than an inconvenience he’s forced to endure? Why else would he parade other women in front of you, each of them more beautiful, more captivating, more everything than you’ll ever be?

The more Kenan pulls away, the deeper you sink into yourself, convinced that his indifference is a reflection of your worth. You’ve searched for answers in every mirror, scrutinizing your face, your body, every part of yourself that feels inadequate. You pick apart every flaw, every imperfection, as if solving the puzzle of your own ugliness might finally explain why you are so impossible to love. You try to change, to smile more, to be kinder, quieter, less of whatever it is that pushes people away. But no matter how much you give, no matter how much of yourself you twist and bend and break to fit into the shape of someone deserving, it’s never enough.

The rejection feels like a knife to the heart, twisting deeper each time Kenan walks past you as if you’re nothing. You wonder what it would feel like to be touched by him in kindness, to have him hold you like you mattered, just once. You’ve replayed it in your mind a thousand times, trying to imagine the warmth of his hand in yours, the weight of his arm around your shoulders, the sound of your name spoken with something other than disdain. But that warmth never comes. All you get is the chill of his absence, the searing pain of knowing that you are invisible, unwanted, unloved, and that’s all that you’ll ever be.

Despite all this endless questioning, you never get any closer to understanding why you’re in this predicament.

It hurts, like you’re drowning in a sea of sorrow, and every breath is a struggle against the relentless waves of the ruthless ocean. It’s the taste of salt on your lips—the bitter residue of tears that never seem to end—and the weight in your chest that sits like a stone, heavy and immovable, pressing down with a quiet, unyielding ache.

You have long since given up on hope, that maybe one day it will get better, the pain will decrease, but it never does.

Today, you don’t stay inside, the chattering of the girl twists a little deeper into your poor heart than usual, and you decide to step out.

You somehow make it to a cafe and settle down, in a spot. You’re so attuned to the feeling of loneliness that it doesn’t bother you as people glance at you, some with curiosity and most with pity, preoccupied with your heartache.

You realise just how pathetic, pitiful you must appear. Your face permanently stained with tear marks and eyes so red, your figure frail from negligence on everyone you’ve known, including yourself.

You don’t realise however, that it is enough to warrant headlines.

The next morning you’re going viral on the internet,

“Kenan Yildiz’s wife spotted, lonely and sombre. What could be the cause?”

You can’t help yourself as you look through the comments.

“lol how do we even know if she’s his wife, we’ve never seen a single photo of them together”

“oh please, she’s probably a lying attention seeking white trying to get Kenan’s attention, bet she’s never met the guy. Yawn.”

“Who the fuck is this?”

“Kenan is not married what in the fake news”

You’re not surprised by it, but still it stings. You knew Kenan never made it known that he had been married, the night of your wedding day had become news to the world, but it had been buried away by Kenan’s refusal to acknowledge it.

It wasn’t as if you ever accompanied Kenan anywhere either, you went out alone, he never invited you to his games or any award ceremonies, he ignored you just as much on the outside as he did at home.

The only people who actually acknowledge this news are your parents, they come knocking on your door while Kenan is out, not at all pleased by your act that had so perfectly tarnished their reputation, and then the very night they make it very abundantly clear to you just how much displeasure you bring to them.

The pain is sharp and jagged, like shards of glass lodged deep inside, cutting with every thought, and every word your mother hisses at you, and every hit your father directs at you tears you down further.

When they leave, you’re all by yourself on the floor, like broken china that no one cares about or ever will bother picking up.

That night you cry yourself to sleep, so incredibly tired, and you think to yourself about how much of an abomination you are, if only you didn’t ever exist at all.

You’re mentally exhausted to the point that you fall asleep right there on the floor in your mess. And for the first time, Kenan takes notice of you.

He has always been aware of your presence, but had blatantly rejected it, even though guilt had begun to seep into this facade of pretending that he was indifferent to you.

He had noticed how you were always alone, no friends to tag along with when you went out to a restaurant, and barely anyone to talk to. He noticed how you tried your very hardest to make yourself as small as you could in the home that was supposed to be both his and yours. You never spared any expense on yourself from his money, to the point that all the groceries in the house went untouched by you, never eating the food that was there, as if you felt unworthy of sharing the same stuff he did.

His conscience had fought with him a lot, but then his pertinacity had won out.

Kenan comes home late that night, the weight of his usual indifference wrapped around him like a heavy coat. The house is quiet, too quiet, but it doesn’t feel unfamiliar, because that is how you are, yet as he steps inside, he feels a strange sense of unease. The lights are dim, casting long, flickering shadows across the walls, and for a moment, he almost calls out for you, but stops himself—old habits of pride and detachment still holding him back. As he walks through the hallway, his footsteps echo softly on the wooden floor, and that’s when he sees you, crumpled in the corner, lying there as if the world itself had thrown you away.

He freezes, staring at the scene that steals the breath from his lungs. You’re curled up on the cold, hard floor, your fragile frame barely shielded by the thin shadow that frames you. The soft glow of the lamplight reveals a tapestry of dark, angry bruises spreading across your arms and face, fresh and vicious, like cruel brushstrokes on pale canvas. Your cheeks are stained with dried tears, and your breaths come in shallow, ragged bursts, as if each inhale is a battle against the pain you carry. The sight of you, so small, so vulnerable, hits him like a punch to the gut, and for the first time in a long time, something shifts in him.

Guilt seeps in, thick and suffocating, wrapping around his heart like a vice. He kneels beside you, his hands trembling as he reaches out, hesitant and unsure. He touches your shoulder, lightly at first, afraid of causing you more pain, and when you stir, blinking up at him through swollen eyes, he feels the weight of his neglect crash down on him. He’s been blind to your suffering, wrapped up in his own resentments, his own desires, never once considering the cost of his actions—or inactions—on the person he promised to protect, however unwillingly.

Your own eyes widen a little, surprised at seeing him so close to you, for the first time since your wedding, and you aim to move away, but an egregious amount of pain has you stopping, and you try to keep the groan from escaping out your mouth.

"Who did this to you?" His voice is low, and there’s a vulnerability there, breaking, a far cry from the coldness you’ve grown accustomed to. You don’t answer, still in shock from seeing him so close. That is when you notice the freckles of golden in his green eyes, or perhaps you have a concussion that’s making you see things.

Kenan’s eyes run over your body, the bruises tell a story he can’t ignore, and for the first time, he sees you—not as the burden he’s resented, but as someone who’s been hurt far too many times, someone he’s failed in the worst possible way.

Kenan helps you up, his touch gentler than it has ever been. He wraps his arms around you, careful not to press against your bruises, and for the first time, you feel his warmth—real, unguarded, like he’s trying to shield you from the world that’s been so unkind. He guides you to the bedroom, the one he’s kept so meticulously separate from you, and tucks you into the bed as if you’re something precious. He sits beside you that night, eyes never leaving your face, and vows silently to himself that he will be different, that he will be better. For you, it all feels as if you’re on an alien planet, an alternative reality where everything feels so foreign, unaccustomed to having anyone, not just Kenan, actually look at you beyond the same gaze of disdain that you’ve known your whole life.

In the days that follow, Kenan is not the man you remember. He wakes early to make you breakfast, though he’s clumsy in the kitchen, burning toast and fumbling with the coffee machine. You watch him from the table, wrapped in a blanket, still wary, but there’s something different in his eyes—softer, almost pleading. He sits with you as you eat, quiet but present, as if his mere company might patch over the wounds he’s spent so long ignoring.

He starts to notice the little things—the way you flinch when someone speaks too loudly, the way you keep your head down as if expecting another blow. He learns how sometimes you don’t answer, assuming that he isn’t speaking to you, and it fills him with regret. He learns to be gentle, careful with his words, speaking to you with a softness that feels foreign on his tongue. He doesn’t bring anyone home anymore; the house is yours, a sanctuary he’s determined to protect. Slowly, he starts to open up, telling you about his own struggles, his own fears, the reasons he’s built walls so high around his heart. It’s not an excuse, but it’s a start, and you find yourself listening, inching closer with each shared truth.

Kenan begins to take you out on walks in the park, away from the stifling walls of the house that holds too many memories. He holds your hand, tentatively at first, but when you don’t pull away, he squeezes a little tighter, as if to say he’s here now, and he’s not going anywhere. He surprises you with small gestures—your favorite flowers on the table, a book you mentioned once, a soft touch on your shoulder when you seem lost in thought. It’s awkward and unsure, but it’s real, and each day, the distance between you shrinks just a little more.

One evening, as the sun sets and paints the room in hues of gold, Kenan sits beside you on the couch, holding your hand. He’s nervous, you can tell, but his eyes are earnest. “I’m sorry,” he says, his voice cracking under the weight of everything he’s kept buried. “For all of it. For not seeing you, for not being what you needed. I know I’ve hurt you, and I can’t take that back, but I want to try. I want to be better—for you.”

For a moment, you say nothing, the words catching in your throat. But when you look at him, really look at him, you see someone trying, someone who’s finally willing to let you in. You nod, squeezing his hand back, and though the road ahead is uncertain, for the first time, it feels like it’s yours to walk together.

fin