#arda guler x fem!reader

[halfwayhearted]

Arda Güler fic where he feels you are being distant and starts to overthink which leads to him asking if you were going to break up with him out of nowhere and it causes a small argument…. angst to comfort perhaps. Get back to me as soon as possible. Thank you for your time!☀️

Velvet Mood — Arda Güler.

Pairing: Arda Güler x Fem!Reader

Summary: Something’s on his mind, and you don’t know what it is. You’re determined to find out; you just didn’t think it’d be about whether or not you’re planning to break up with him.

Word Count: 810+

Disclaimer/s — Nothing, angst to comfort!

A/N: I’M ILL. THIS. + their argument wasn’t what I had hoped but I lowkey got stumped so, let’s knock it off. Thank.

Arda was distant. Too distant. It worried you a lot.

It all began when you came home one day, utterly exhausted from a long day at work. You longed for nothing more than a shower, some food, and to collapse into bed. That was all you could muster.

Arda brushed a hand over your hair, and you felt the soft touch of his lips against your temple. “Hey, how was work? I didn’t hear you come in.”

“‘M tired,” you grumbled, “It was very grueling.”

“Oh, I’m sorry. Do you want to watch some TV?”

Your eyes flutter shut, and you shake your head in response to his question. “Not now, please.”

It was a small, simple response, yet it had him thinking the absolute worst. Most days, you’d agree and just fall asleep with your head resting lazily against his chest and your legs thrown over his lap. But to receive a ‘Not now, please’?

It was�� different. He didn’t quite like it at all.

Since then, the things you used to do were starting to become memories. A simple thought now captured the feeling of contentment.

You tried to talk to him. He simply brushed it off. Brushed you off. In all honesty, you were slowly becoming tired of it. Day by day. Like a routine.

Today would likely end the same way. You’d try to talk to him, he’d give you nothing to work with, and then you’d call it a night. You’ve fought. Maybe not subtly, but you still fought. Tried to.

“Arda,” you started softly, “How was your day?”

His eyebrows raised for just a split second before he shrugged his shoulders. You saw the way his jaw clenched, it confused you. “It was fine. You?”

“Fine, too. Can… I want to talk to you about—”

That was when he uttered your name, cutting you off, “Listen, are you going to break up with me?”

What? You voiced your exact thoughts, “What?”

“Are you?” He echoed, his voice firm. Though you could tell he was clearly upset. Arda was upset.

You were at a complete loss for words. The only question that escaped your lips, filled with curiosity, was, “Where is this coming from? Did I do something, Arda? I need you to talk to me.”

Did I do something, you had asked. He could’ve laughed. “Did you? Or, did I do something.”

“No, you didn’t do anything. Where is this—I’m confused, why is this even a question? I love you, you know that. So, where is this coming from?”

“Don’t give me that,” the man sighed, averting his gaze. “You’ve changed. You seem tired. Tired with me. Of me. And if that’s the case, I need to know.”

‘Tired of me.’ Tired of him? You were never tired of him. You never have been, and you were sure you never would be. Ever. Your job had been weighing you down, of course, but you never thought it’d slowly but surely impact your relationship like this with your boyfriend. It never crossed your mind.

You felt a crushing weight of guilt in your heart.

Taking a step toward him, you began, “I’m not tired of you. And… no, I’m not breaking up with you. God, never that, okay? I’ve been working extra hours, and it’s starting to take its toll on me. I didn’t mean to put you in that position. I don’t want you to keep thinking that. Trust me when I say that I love you. Because I do. So much.”

His expression softened at your explanation. You weren’t planning on breaking up with him. Arda couldn’t help but feel a little foolish. He knew the promotion you got would have its effect. He just didn’t realize how worn out it’d make you.

It all started to make sense. Oh, how dumb.

The brunette felt his entire body relax and let out a breath. “I’m sorry. I should’ve just asked you. I didn’t mean to just let it out. Put you on the spot.”

“No, no, hey, I’m glad that you did,” you assured, quickly lifting your hand and using it to cup his jaw. “I’m glad that you did. I wouldn’t have found out how you felt. How about we make one of those calendars? We can set, like, dates, and days where it’ll be dedicated to just us. How’s that?”

“You’d let me know if you’re too tired for them?”

A smile slowly spread across your face, “I would.”

Arda hums softly at that, leaning down to place a gentle peck to your temple. He slowly wrapped his arms around you, drawing you closer to him.

“I’m really starting to hate your job,” he muttered.

And you laughed. Of course he did. He would. All you did was let out a laugh, “But, you love me.”

The Güler man hummed once more, “I love you.”

Likes, reblogs, and comments are always appreciated ^_^.

DT(s) — @pedrilcvr ! ౨ৎ

[girlyouk]

cookies

The young father had only left the little kids in the kitchen to mix the cookie dough together for five minutes, but a few shouts could already be heard, which was okay, but the real problem came when the screaming stopped.

"Look, you hurt your hand! I told you to do it," the boy was grumbling, taking the girl's hand in front of him and trying to put a band-aid on it, "You are very clumsy and a little stupid," he continued to say silently.

While the little girl's eyes were already full of tears, Arda's words did not help this at all. "I didn't do it on purpose, and you're the real fool!" While trying to make an excuse, he looked at the boy who was still trying to put a band-aid on his hand, "You can't even put a band-aid on, stupid arda!"

When the boy finally put the band-aid on, he moved away from her and started mixing the cookie dough. "Let me mix the cookie dough, you can decorate it." When the girl was about to reject him and say that she didn't want to make cookies anymore, he started talking again, "Well, you know, you can't mix cookie dough." She definitely didn't want to make cookies anymore.

“Guys, I hope you didn't have any problems, how is our cookie dough doing?”

[shitsndgiggs]

hey this is a request for Arda Güler!

Well, we all say that goal against Georgia right? It was absolutely spectacular.

I’m thinking about reader who sees the goal and is so happy for him. And they enjoy quality time together. When they get back to the hotel it’s just fluff and reader telling guler how proud of him she is.

You can change it as much as you want. I hope this request is understandable. I have an idea of it but can’t seem to write it down 😭🤭

Thanks

MOMENTS OF GLORY- ARDA GÜLER

Arda scoring a spectacular goal in his Euro debut match

Arda Güler x fem! reader

︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿

I sat nervously in the stands, surrounded by Arda’s family, as Turkey's first Euro match against Georgia began. The air was electric, and Arda's family buzzed with excitement and anticipation.

The game kicked off, and Turkey immediately took control. In the 25th minute, Mert Müldür scored with a powerful header from a well-placed corner.

The stadium exploded with cheers, and I felt a wave of relief wash over me as Turkey took the lead.

Just two minutes later, Kenan made a brilliant solo run and slotted the ball into the net. We erupted again, only for our cheers to turn into groans of disappointment as the goal was ruled offside.

In the 32nd minute, Georgia capitalized on a momentary lapse in Turkey's defense. Georges Mikautadze slipped the ball past our goalkeeper, leveling the score at 1-1.

The turkish crowd fell silent for a moment, but quickly regained their spirit, chanting and cheering for the team to push forward.

As the first half ended, tension hung in the air. "He's doing so well," Arda's mother said, gripping my hand.

"I can't believe how far he's come," I replied, feeling a surge of pride.

The second half started with both teams playing with renewed energy.

Then, in the 65th minute, the moment everyone was waiting for arrived.

Arda picked up the ball on the right side of the pitch. He picked up the ball and cut inside onto his left foot, and unleashed a stunning strike into the top corner.

The stadium erupted in ecstasy, fans screaming and jumping in the pouring Dortmund rain.

Arda's mother clutched my hand, tears of joy streaming down her face. "Did you see that? He's amazing!" she exclaimed.

I nodded, overwhelmed with emotion. "He's worked so hard for this moment," I replied, my voice choked with pride.

"He broke Cristiano Ronaldo's record." Arda's father added, his voice filled with pride.

In the 74th minute, Georgia made two substitutions, desperately trying to change the momentum of the game.

Turkey responded with their own substitutions in the 79th minute, ending with Arda being substituted for Yusuf Yazici.

As Arda walked off the pitch, the crowd rose to their feet. A thunderous applause echoed through the stadium, with fans clapping and cheering for the young star.

His family and I stood up, clapping and cheering with all our might. The ovation was deafening, and I could see the pride and joy in Arda's eyes as he acknowledged the fans, waving and smiling.

"He deserves this moment," Arda's mother said, tears still glistening in her eyes.

The final minutes of the match were nail-bitingly intense. Both teams fought fiercely, but Turkey's defense stood strong. In the 90+7th minute, Kerem Akturkoglu sealed the victory with a brilliant counter-attack goal, making it 3-1.

As the final whistle blew, the stadium erupted once more.

We headed down to the pitch, still buzzing from the victory. Arda walking over to us, his face radiant with happiness.

"You were incredible out there," I told him, wrapping my arms around him. He smiled, "I couldn't have done it without all of your support."

Arda's mother chimed in, "We are so proud of you, Arda. That goal was something special."

We spent a few more moments on the pitch, congratulating him and taking pictures.

Eventually, his family decided to head back to the hotel to rest.

"We'll see you later, sweetheart," Arda's mother said, giving him a kiss on the cheek. "Don't be too late."

"I won't, mom," Arda replied with a smile. His family waved goodbye and headed off.

I stayed behind, waiting for Arda to finish celebrating with his teammates and go through the post-match routines. I watched as he interacted with fans, gave interviews, and finally headed to the locker room to shower and change.

The stadium slowly emptied, but I remained, leaning against the railing, feeling a mix of pride and joy.

After what felt like an eternity, Arda emerged from the locker room, freshly showered and dressed. His face lit up when he saw me waiting. "Hey, you," he said, wrapping me in a warm hug. "Thanks for waiting."

"Of course," I replied, holding him close.

We walked to the car together, the night air cool and refreshing after the intensity of the match. On the drive to my hotel, we talked about the game, replaying every moment.

"That goal," I said, shaking my head in awe. "I knew you had it in you, but seeing it happen was something else."

Arda smiled, glancing over at me. "I've been dreaming about that moment for so long. I couldn't believe it when the ball actually went in."

"You deserve it," I said, reaching over to squeeze his hand. "You've worked so hard, and it's all paying off."

When we arrived at the hotel, we headed up to my room. Arda flopped onto the bed with a contented sigh, and I sat beside him, brushing a strand of hair from his forehead.

"I'm so proud of you, Arda," I said softly. "Not just for the goal, but for everything. The dedication, the effort, the way you carry yourself. You're incredible."

He looked up at me, his eyes shining. "I couldn't have done any of this without you," he said, his voice filled with emotion. "You've been my rock, my biggest supporter."

"I'll always be here for you," I replied, leaning down to kiss his forehead. "No matter what."

We lay there for a moment, enjoying the quiet and the closeness. Then I asked, "Why didn't you want to celebrate with the team for the rest of the night?"

Arda sighed contentedly, intertwining his fingers with mine. "I wanted to spend this moment with you. Celebrating with the team is great, but you've been there for me through everything. I wanted to share this with you."

My heart swelled with emotion. "That means so much to me, Arda. Thank you."

We lay there for a while longer, just talking and basking in the joy of the night. Eventually, our stomachs growled in unison, making us laugh.

"How about we order room service?" I suggested.

Arda grinned. "That sounds perfect."

We browsed the menu together, picking out our favorite comfort foods. When the food arrived, we sat on the bed, eating and talking, reliving every glorious moment of the match.

It was a perfect, intimate celebration, just the two of us.

[halfwayhearted]

Arda Güler fic based on Fallingforyou by the 1975… so friends to lovers w a she fell first he fell harder type deal..

Fallingforyou — Arda Güler.

Pairing: Arda Güler x Fem!Reader

Summary: The TWO times you had to hide the fact that you love him + the ONE time you finally don’t have to.

Word Count: 2K+ (Hi, what the fuck.)

Disclaimers/s — Pining, fluff, angst if you squint, and done!

A/N: I love the ‘the _ times you _, the _ time you _’, ykwim. I also didn’t follow through with the song… just realized… hey. ALSO. They’ve been friends for a while, like, a long time btw.

1. The one where he comes over because you couldn’t sleep.

You never expected to call him, of all people, when you were lying awake during the night.

Though, all your doubts seemed to vanish the second he answered your call. Despite it being three in the literal morning, his voice was hoarse as he questioned, “Hey, are you okay?”

Your face reddened, and you swallowed thickly. “You were asleep, sorry, I’ll talk to you tomorrow.”

Arda quickly uttered your name softly, stopping you from hanging up. “I wasn’t sleeping, I was just finishing my laundry. Swear. You can’t sleep, right? I can come over. I’ll be there in ten, yeah?”

He was quite literally offering to come over for your sake because you couldn’t sleep. You found yourself unable to help the small frustration that bubbled up inside you—not at him, but at yourself. If he kept doing things like this, you were sure you would be officially head-over-heels in love with him… well, not that you weren’t already.

Realizing you had yet to respond, you spoke, “Yeah. Yeah, thank you. Really. You really don’t—”

“Don’t do that. I want to, okay? I promise you.”

“I didn’t even get to finish what I was saying!”

His laugh, small but contagious, brought a smile to your lips. “I know you weren’t. But I know you. I want to. I’ll be there soon, alright? Bye.”

“Yeah—bye, Arda.” With that, the call ends.

True to his word, he arrived ten minutes later. You greeted him at the door, helped him with his coat, and led both of you to your bedroom. He picked a movie; it was the least you could let him do.

With the movie flickering in the background, you noticed your gaze kept trailing back to him. You cursed yourself internally, can you get a grip?

It was when he met your gaze that you snapped out of your thoughts. His bottom lip jutted out, making you gulp. “Something on my face?”

You stammered, “Uh, nope! Not at all.”

“Are you lying to me? You’re lying to me.”

Save yourself. “Okay, I am, I’m sorry,” you grinned sheepishly, leaning forward and using your thumb to wipe off the imaginary residue of the chips you both had been eating. You felt your breath hitch in your throat; Arda didn’t notice. The proximity between the two of you was… stop. Just leave it.

But the intensity of his gaze made your heart ache with the urge to spill your feelings:

I love you. I love you. I love you. I love you. I love—

“Did you get it?” He asked, making you stiffen.

Quickly, you pull back and nod, “Yup! Got it.”

2. The one where he picks you up from a date-gone-wrong.

It had only been two weeks since your almost, semi… slip-up. You decided you needed to get over this, over him, as soon as possible. Now.

It was so very clear that he didn’t feel the same, though you didn’t know how you arrived to that conclusion. He didn’t exactly show that he didn’t, but he also didn’t show that he did. And that right there was enough to make you tighten your grip on the napkin placed delicately on your lap.

That's the reason you were even here in the first place. You had agreed to your friend's blind date setup. She had always believed it would be you and Arda, well, forever. However, after countless hours of listening to you vent about how he doesn’t feel the same, she figured this might be the only way for you to finally... get over him.

You hoped it did. You really did.

Alas, not all hopes are fulfilled.

The guy just droned on about himself for hours, completely ignoring you—what you do, what you like, what you love. You were tired and annoyed.

You concocted an excuse to cut the date short, paid for just your meal, said your goodbyes, and slipped out through the back. Of course, it was raining—just your luck! Exactly what you needed.

Whipping out your phone, you hesitated over your friend's contact. She was busy. You knew she was. Arda wasn’t. How did you know? Because his last message to you was, ‘Have fun, let me know how it goes. I’ll be watching a movie.’

Have fun? Totally. With a brave resolve, you click ‘call’ and quickly press your phone to your ear, tapping your fingers incessantly on your pants as you wait for him to answer. If he answers.

Please answer.

“Hey, it’s done already?” His voice fills your ears. The question makes you sigh in response. He says your name quietly, “Is it—are you outside?”

“What? Oh. Oh, yes, I am.”

What? Even though you couldn't see him, Arda's eyebrows raise almost instantly at that. “It’s raining. Where’s your date? Are you by yourself?”

"Well, I left. God, it was awful," you complained, running a hand over your face. "He just kept going on and on about himself, never once asking how my day was. Is that—it was such a simple thing!”

He says your name, “You could get sick.”

“Yeah, I’m aware. My hair took so long to do too.”

“I know, I know—just, go back inside!”

You ignore him, “Can you come get me, please?”

“I’m already on my way, go back inside,” he echoed. The sound of his air conditioning blowing through the speaker made you let out a breath of relief. “I’ll be right there. Don’t go anywhere.”

As if I could, you muttered to yourself while he hung up the phone, wiping it against your sweater and shoving it back into your pocket.

You didn’t go back inside. One, you didn’t want to. Two, you actually couldn’t. It was locked. Closed.

Instead, you found a bench nearby and sat down, your gaze drawn to the neon signs across the street. It wasn’t even raining that badly, it was a slight sprinkle. It obviously didn’t seem that way when he came, parked, and hurried out with an umbrella. “I thought I told you to go back inside.”

“Hey,” you frowned, “It was closed. It’s all closed.”

Arda huffed, holding the umbrella above you both, his expression softening at the sight of you shivering. It wasn’t that bad, just a little. Gently grasping your arm, he pulled you up and took your hand in his, guiding it to the pocket of his hoodie. You welcomed the warmth, your other hand shoved into your jean pocket. Just as you were about to speak, you felt the subtle rub of his thumb against your knuckles. Oh. My. God.

He was driving you absolutely crazy.

You felt like a mannequin being moved around when he walked you to his car, opened the passenger side door, helped you inside, and even buckled your seatbelt. How could you go on dates when the man you truly wanted was right here?

You were so lost in a daze that you didn’t even realize he was taking off his hoodie and slipping it over your head and onto your torso until you heard him ask, “How’s that?”

Looking up at him, you opened your mouth to respond, “Arda, I—” love you. Don’t. Clamping your mouth shut, you nodded and thanked him.

All he did was nod, smile, and shut your door.

Maybe next time.

3. The one where you can’t hold back anymore and confess.

Even after a week, you still kept his hoodie.

As soon as he dropped you off, you stripped it off and washed it, determined to give it back the next time you saw him... but you didn’t stick to that.

You saw him three times. You never gave it back.

It wasn’t because you didn’t want to, even though you really didn’t want to; it was mostly because you forgot. You lacked the warm clothes you needed, and his hoodie fulfilled that need. So—

Your phone rang, making you quirk a brow.

Picking up your phone, a sense of curiosity washed over you when you saw Arda’s contact name and photo on the screen.

With a bit of hesitation, you answer. “Hey… you.”

“Hey, are you home?”

“Yeah, I am! Are you okay? Do I need to pick you up from a bad date or something?”

He laughs, “You wish.”

No. No, you don’t wish. “Yup… I do.”

“I just wanted to call and tell you that I’m out front, can you let me in? Please?”

Out front? “You're—why are you here? I mean, I'll open my door, you're always welcome, obviously.”

“Am I not allowed to visit my best friend?” The moment those words left his mouth, a bitter tinge rose within you. Best friend. Right, of course.

Swallowing hard, you managed to laugh, “Yeah, yeah, you are. I'm on my way. See you in a bit.”

Entering your living room, you grabbed the doorknob and swung the door open. Even though you expected him, the sight of him made your heart skip a beat. As you allowed him inside, Arda muttered a small, quiet “thank you” while walking in, watching as you smiled and shut the door.

“You cleaned, huh? It looks nice. My hoodie?”

“Your—right. It’s warm! And for your information, I always clean,” you replied, “…every other day. Is there anything you wanted to do? I have snacks, board games—oh! Can we watch a horror movie?”

You notice the way the corners of his lips twitch at your enthusiasm. “It is October, isn't it?”

A hum, “It is!”

“Then, of course. Anything you want,” he said.

Anything you want. His words reverberated in your mind. Did he like you? Did he not?

Arda murmurs your name, his head tilting, and he steps closer. “Hey, are you okay? You seemed to shut down on me for a second there.”

“No, yeah. I’m okay. Just… deciding on which horror movie we should watch. It’s crucial, really.”

A lie. He knew it. “That's a lie. You’re lying to me.”

“No, I already thought of about five we could watch and finish by tomorrow,” a pause, “We should probably start now if we want to finish.”

He says your name once again, and the way he's looking at you makes you want to just tell him how you feel. ‘Maybe next time,’ you had told yourself. Now's the time. But... was it actually?

His gaze flickers over your features, sending a shiver down your spine. It was concern, worry, and… something else. Something you couldn't quite grasp, but it practically gnawed at you.

You'd reached your limit. “Don’t do that, Arda.”

His eyebrows knit together. “Do what?”

Like you could actually love me, you had thought. Then, when you saw him stiffen, you realized you hadn’t just thought it—you had said it.

Embarrassed. Completely and utterly sick.

“Okay, I didn’t—sorry, I’m sorry,” you sputtered, shaking your head and stepping away from him. “You should go. Yeah, please go. I—”

His hands cupping your jaw were enough to make you shut your mouth. “Stop. Please, stop.”

“I’m embarrassed! This is so embarrassing.”

“Why? Why’re you embarrassed?” He inquired, eyes narrowing, “Hey, listen, I love you.”

No. No. No. “You’re just saying that.”

The man shakes his head, “It’s always been you.”

You don’t believe that. How could you? “Are you lying? If you are, that is so not funny.”

A shaky laugh escapes his lips. “I love you. You have no idea how long I’ve wanted to tell you.”

“I have no idea?” You scoffed playfully, still in disbelief. “You have no idea! I was—how long?”

“It was the second you told me you were going on a date, that was… when I realized,” he explains, his face flushed. He lets out a breath. “All I remember was wishing it was me, me who asked you out, me who got to be by your side all night. Hearing how he didn’t care enough to get to know you, it annoyed me more than it should’ve.”

I remember wishing it was me.

You didn’t even know what to say; the only words capable of leaving your lips were, “Does this mean I’m able to keep your hoodie?”

He nods, his tongue poking the side of his cheek, “Yes, you can keep it. Anything you want.”

Likes, reblogs, and comments are always appreciated ^_^.

DT(s) — @pedrilcvr ! ౨ৎ

[halfwayhearted]

Arda Güler blurb where it’s their first date and it’s just cute fluff 💟 Thank you + ur fluff writing is adorbs xx and perhaps he’s like a hand holder so like wherever they go they hold hands or whatever! <3

Our Way To Fall — Arda Güler.

Pairing: Arda Güler x Fem!Reader

Summary: First date jitters? Well, not exactly. The moment he reached for your hand, you were already dreaming up the details of your second date together.

Word Count: 550+

Disclaimer/s — Fluff, no use of Y/N. ^_^

A/N: For my beautiful gorgeous bonk, Bea again… I love you!

You were sure you wanted to see this man again.

Perhaps you reached that joyous, yet eager realization when he first knocked on your door, holding a small bouquet of your favorite flowers, white lilies. Or maybe it was when he gazed at you with such complete and utter captivation, as if you were the only person in the world. It could have even been when he couldn’t help but shower you with compliments the entire time, making you feel truly cherished and adored.

The steps to figuring that out first started when you took the flowers from his grasp, brought them to your nose to inhale their fragrance, and looked up at him with a smile, “You didn’t have to. But these are gorgeous. Thank you.”

All the man could do was let a smile spread across his face and scratch the back of his neck awkwardly. Placing the bouquet down onto a side table, you grabbed your purse and stepped outside, closing the door behind you. That was when the first compliment came in.

“You look beautiful,” he finally stated, noticing how your smile seemed to brighten even more. There was nothing he wanted more than to see that sight all the time. He was sure of that.

Looking over at him as he opened the passenger side door for you, you replied, “Thank you. You clean up nice. Are you warm?”

Arda shrugged sheepishly, “Maybe too warm.”

With that, he got in, and the car ride to dinner transformed into something even more enjoyable. The two of you spent most of it laughing and talking animatedly about the things you liked, even loved. Every now and then, you'd catch him stealing glances at you when the car stopped at a red light. You were certain he wasn't listening—how could he be? Until he’d repeat what you had said for clarification, and it would literally send a flutter through your chest and into your heart.

That flutter only seemed to worsen when you arrived, another compliment flowing from his lips as if it was something he could do daily. It wasn’t hard to keep the conversation going at all. You’d say something, and he’d reply with something that’d spark up another conversation. As did you.

But no, it wasn’t then that you realized you wanted to see him again. It was when you walked side-by-side, half eaten ice-cream cones in hand, laughing at a joke he made. His eyes twinkled with amusement, and after your laughter faded, you found a bench to sit on. You had both been done with your cones when you felt the soft brush of his pinky against your own.

You looked down at your hands before turning to look at him. You were so caught up in staring at him that you almost missed the two words that left his mouth, “Can I?”

Biting your bottom lip ever-so-delicately, you took his hand, turned his palm up, and intertwined your fingers with his in a dance of connection.

Arda didn’t say anything. He just let out a contented hum and stared at the cars driving by.

It was in that moment you realized you wanted not only a second date, but something more, and he, with equal certainty, had felt the same.

Likes, reblogs, and comments are always appreciated ^_^.

DT(s) — @pedrilcvr ! ౨ৎ

[halfwayhearted]

Arda Güler fic where he’s awkward and shy around reader and she doesn’t know why (friends) and then gets frustrated at him and he gets frustrated back and its like a “because I like you!!??” moment.

Kiss Her You Fool — Arda Güler.

Pairing: Arda Güler x Fem!Reader

Summary: You can’t help but think he’s upset with you; you just didn’t know how wrong you were. So, so wrong.

Word Count: 740+

Disclaimer/s — Slight (?) angst, no use of Y/N, and then fluff!

A/N: Arda Güler. Please. If you can hear me.

The only thing that consumed your mind was a desperate, “Did I do something wrong?”

Because why was your best friend, of all people, suddenly acting different? It didn’t just start happening now—it had started months ago. Four months ago, to be exact, was when you began noticing changes in him and your friendship.

You just about had it.

The final straw hit hard when, like always, you offered to cook dinner for both of you at his place. You'd often feel so bored while he did his thing, so you figured you'd be helpful. That's just how it had always gone. Until he began questioning you.

The moment he saw you taking out what you needed, Arda just stood there, clearing his throat and awkwardly scratching the back of his neck.

You lifted your head, a smile forming on your face. “Hey. Do you not have pepper? I can’t find—”

“What are you doing?” He asked.

“What does it look like?” A joke, of course. It was painfully obvious that he didn’t see it that way when his eyes narrowed just a fraction. Enough to make your eyebrows furrow in confusion.

His face flushed slightly, you didn’t notice. “You don’t have to do that. I didn’t ask you to do that.”

“Oh! Well—you don’t have to ask, you know that. I’ve done it plenty of times before, you never said anything about it.” You paused, “Should I stop?”

Eyes widening, he shook his head, “No! No, sorry. It’s fine, you can… you can continue.”

Okay… wow! So… awkward? Yes! Expected? Unfortunately. This had quite literally become the new ‘norm’ for both of you.

You weren’t having it.

Your expression hardens while you set down the seasonings onto the counter, voice firm, “Okay, stop. Talk to me. Did I do something wrong?”

“What are you talking about?”

“Please, don’t give me that,” you interjected, crossing your arms over your chest and continuing, “Did I do something wrong? Because it feels like I might’ve done something wrong.”

One second, two, three, a minute. Silence ensues.

You let out a scoff, not bothering to say another word, just quietly putting everything back. As you try to walk away, his hand moves to grip your wrist, gentle yet unyielding. He quietly utters your name, and in frustration, your eyes shut tightly.

Opening his mouth to speak, he quickly closes it again, a small groan escaping instead. “You didn’t do anything wrong,” he finally manages to say.

You don’t buy it. “Then why are you acting so… so weird? Huh? Do you think I don’t notice when you become distant? I’m not stupid, Arda. I know.”

You know? What do you know? His jaw clenches and he shakes his head, “No, you don’t.”

Another scoff. “Oh, I don’t?”

His irritation is almost tangible, practically seething with it. “No! No—you don’t.”

‘No, you don’t.’ Are you kidding? “Then, what! What don’t I know?! Enlighten me, please, won’t you? Because I’m confused—”

“I like you!” He admitted, his voice strained with emotion. “So, no. You don’t know! You just don’t.”

Now it’s your turn to match his wide-eyed gaze. He likes you. He’s been acting weird the last couple of months because he liked you.

And you liked him back.

Your frown forms into a smile. His eyebrows knit together even further. He had just confessed, and here you were, smiling. “Why’re you—”

“You like me,” you repeated softly, running a hand over your face. He continued to stare at you with hopeful eyes, you didn’t say anything else. Just gazed off into the distance, lost in thought. He was starting to get a bit… nervous, a little antsy.

He huffed, “Can you say something else?”

Snapping your gaze to meet his, your body relaxes, and your expression softens in a way that makes him want to kiss you right then and there.

Thankfully, it seems like you had the same idea.

The second your lips meet, his hands hover over your hips, like he’s afraid that this moment might not even be real at all. Slowly but surely, he eases into it and gently rests his hands on you. A smile graces his lips when he fully starts to embrace the kiss, completely lost in the moment with you.

It doesn’t last as long as he’d want it to. Though, what you tell him afterward makes up for it.

“I like you too, you idiot.”

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DT(s) — @pedrilcvr ! ౨ৎ