#Unravel Me

[queenofheartsdeservedbetter]

I really, REALLY, don't know what I would do without books.

[shattermelyhfmlblog]

Just a bunch of facts about Aaron Warner Anderson!

Warner birthday is on 24th of April, meaning his zodiac sign is Taurus.

"Warner" is his mother's last name.

Warner has a soft spot for animals.

Warner's identification number is 45B-00001.

Warner is very meticulous with hygiene.

Mafi was inspired to create Warner because she was interested in human's capacity for good and evil.

Warner owns a collection of scented soaps.

Warner likes to take long baths.

Warner doesn't really sing in the bath, but he does hum a little.

Warner suffers from insomnia.

Warner speaks 7 languages including English, Spanish and Arabic.

Warner is afraid of spiders.

Warner hates being barefoot.

Warner drinks black coffee because he likes the bitter taste.

Warner's favourite song is Like A Rolling Stone by Bob Dylan.

Warner's workout routine is as stated: Mondays are for legs, Tuesdays are for chest, Wednesdays are fir shoulders and back, Thursdays are for triceps and deltoids and Fridays are for biceps and forearms. Everyday is for abdominals and cardio. He also spends most weekends doing target practice.

Warner can fly planes.

Warner taught himself how to ride a bike.

Warner can build and defuse his own bombs.

Warner has a soft spot for fashion.

__________________

Credits to the writer 🩷

__________________

@warneraaronanderson

[littlemissmentallyunstable]

title: fix you

pairing: aaron warner x (first person) reader

synopsis: aaron returns from a meeting with his father, but something is off… (prior to the ignite me tattoo btw)

warnings: mentions of abuse, a bit suggestive at the end ;)

a/n: first aaron warner fic ever… thanks for reading 🤍🤍

tag list: @wish-i-were-heather @midiosaamor @sweetlikeanangel @maybxlle @whatsamongus @elysianwayy77 @bewitchingkisses @emelia07 @inmyheaddd @sweetreveriee @azysmate @anintellectualintellectual @off-to-the-r4ces

I hear someone stumble in and immediately panic seizes my chest. Aaron Warner doesn’t stumble, so logically it must be an intruder. But who the hell would’ve found a way into Aaron’s private quarters? I don’t care, I grab the gun from under the floor board and slowly approach the door. My heart bangs in my chest, crawling its way to my mouth. It’s so dark that I can barely see a thing. I hear a second step taken and I can tell by the way the weight is hitting the floor unevenly that it’s a shaky step. I take my chance and swiftly rush out, gun pointed towards the figure.

“You’re holding that all wrong, love,” says a dry voice.

“Aaron?” I ask, my voice catches in shock. I squint through the darkness in attempts to recognise him.

“Care to explain the gun?” he replies, eyebrows raised at my questionably aimed weapon.

“I thought you were an intruder,” I say, dropping my arms down to my side and playing the gun down.

“I am not,” Aaron tells me bluntly.

“Obviously,” I smile, attempting to touch his arm. But just as a go to clasp my hand around it, he moves.

Swiftly and almost silently, he walks past me. I feel his body brush against mine softly.

“Where are you going?” I ask.

“I need to shower,” he replies.

There’s something off about him. He stumbled in, his voice is uneven, he wants to get away from me. Something happened and I have this horrible feeling that it was something horrible.

“Are you okay?” I say, trying to seem casual.

“Fine,” he replies. His tone is blunt but cut-throat. He can tell I’m fishing for what’s really wrong and he’s making it clear he doesn’t want to talk. Unfortunately for him, he chose the wrong girl if he wants me to shut up and move on.

“Did it go okay?” I continue.

“It went how it usually did,” he tells me, his voice low.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” I ask. I knew who his dad was and how he was treated, I knew the traumatic stories of his childhood and the bad memories that would haunt him at night, I knew I wanted to kill the man who’d given them to him. But one thing I never knew was anything to do with the meetings held with his dad.

“You know my father, love. He isn’t a pleasant man and nor are his meetings,” he says plainly, “now I’m going to wash.”

He walks towards the bathroom, flicking the light on. The brightness is fluorescent and artificial. I begin to follow him and then I see it. I stop in my tracks. Reams of crimson ribbon decorate the back of his white shirt, jagged lines of the deepest blood red. The fabric has soaked in the liquid and it’s splayed out all across the white. My stomach turns.

“Aaron…” I say, my voice barely a whisper.

“Please, love,” he sighs, running a hand through his perfect hair, “I need to shower.”

“He hurt you,” I murmured, “again?”

He freezes suddenly, realising he’s bled through his white shirt. He’s too exposed to hide it from me this time. He can’t brush it under the carpet when the stains are on the surface. He lifts his head up, back still towards me.

“Don’t,” he says harshly, his voice so low it sounds dangerous.

I don’t say a word as he walks into the bathroom, but my legs can’t help but follow even though my brain is telling them it might be a better idea to not. I step inside quietly and I can feel his body tense.

“Aaron-“

“I said don’t,” he repeats, the bitterness in his tone making me flinch.

Something that resembles anger flickers in my chest. An amber flame of fury.

“Sit down,” I say, my voice firm and unwavering.

He stills, staring down. I don’t say a word and neither does he. In the silence, the air grows heavy and thick, weighted with unspoken words. I don’t know how long we stand like this until slowly he sits down on the lid of the toilet. I wait a few beats, then slowly crouch down, level with his knees and his eyes shooting straight to the floor.

“He hurt you again, didn’t he?” I ask for the second time.

He’s silent.

“Please Aaron,” I beg, “you can’t keep doing this.”

The desperation in my tone makes his heart ache, but still he doesn’t look at me as he says, “he’s hurt me my entire life, love, today he was no different.”

“Show me,” I murmured.

“I don’t want you to see this,” he grits through his teeth, still refusing to meet my eyes.

“I don’t care,” I say, “you can’t keep shutting me out.”

“I can and I will,” he replied curtly, turning away.

“Warner,” I snap, in an attempt to get his attention.

He looks up sharply. His green eyes flicker with some sort of hurt. I never called him Warner, he was my Aaron. Warner was for everyone else, but Aaron was for me.

“Let me help you,” I say firmly, “you need to let me in like I let you in, this goes two ways.”

He stares at me saying nothing for a while. I wonder when he’s going to get up and walk out. Maybe leave completely. Forever. That thought scares me the most. Aaron shuts down when he can’t share his problems. He shuts down and shuts me out.

I am surprised when he slowly takes his shirt off, revealing his battered back. I bite back a gasp and conceal the shock and horror from being displayed on my face. Amongst the jagged scars that ripple across his back, the ones I already knew of, the ones I had once traced, there were fresh wounds. Long, distorted shapes are looping across him, oozing fresh hot blood. Great purple bruises splayed out of the sides of each lash mark, creating some sort of sick and twisted abstract art piece.

He must be in so much pain.

“It’s a shame really,” he murmurs, “I quite liked that shirt.”

I pull myself together, “you have a dozen others like it.”

“I liked that one,” he replies quietly.

“I like you without a shirt better anyways,” I grin at him.

“Well,” he says cracking a half smile, “I suppose I can spare it then.”

“I suppose you can.”

I grab a wash cloth from the cabinet above and soak it with warm water. Gently, I dab his new lashings, trying to wash them. The deep red bleeds through the white of the cloth, spreading through it, like a river of hate. With each stroke I see his face contort.

“Does this hurt?” I ask tenderly.

“I’m fine,” he replies, his voice hard.

“You’re wincing,” I say flatly.

He glares at me. It’s hot.

“I’m fine,” he states.

I drop it and continue to clean. When I am satisfied that I’ve done the best I can, I return to the cabinet and pull out antiseptic and bandages.

“Not antiseptic,” Aaron grumbles.

“Don’t be a baby,” I retort with a laugh, cutting the bandages to the right size.

“I’m not!” he says, a bit too defensively.

“I’m not letting those wounds get infected Aaron, I’m using antiseptic,” I tell him, unable to suppress my smile.

He rolls his eyes and reluctantly lets me press antiseptic into each open gash. He hisses each time, refusing to cry out so I attempt to be as quick and efficient as I can.

When I am finished, I move on the bandages. I stand in front of him and work around. Gently, I wrap the bandage over his back and torso. His hands suddenly clasp my waist, his grip is firm. I bite back a gasp. His hands are so hot I can feel them through my clothes, though in this moment I wish I didn’t have the barrier of clothes.

I try to ignore the distraction he knows he’s making. Softly and methodically I continue to bandage his back and once I make the final wrap I lean down and press my lips on his. He kisses back eagerly, pulling me onto his lap. I wrap my thighs around his hips and continue to plant tender kisses all over his mouth. I’m dizzied by the sensations of passion. We pull away finally when neither of us can think straight and his eyes lock with mine, the delicate green tainted with something I couldn’t quite place my finger on.

“How do you feel?” I ask, brushing a strand of blonde that had fallen, out of the way.

“After that,” he murmurs with a grin, “on top of the world.”

“Your back,” I deadpan.

“I don’t care about my back,” he groans, “kiss me again.”

“Aaron,” I say, my tone accusing.

“Please, love,” he begs, closing his eyes, “I’m suffering withdrawal symptoms here.”

“Aaron,” I laugh.

“Just one kiss, it won’t hurt,” he says quietly, brushing his thumb over my bottom lip. His touch so airy I almost don’t feel it.

“I’m not kissing you until you answer me,” I reply.

“You like to make my life difficult don’t you?” he sighs.

“Ditto,” I poke my tongue out.

“It’s much better now you’ve worked your magic,” he answers my question, gazing at me.

There’s a long pause, but it feels like our eyes carry on the conversation. But every time I look into those emerald voids, I feel his pain. And it makes me see red.

“He shouldn’t do this to you,” I murmur, anger lacing my tone.

“I know,” he replies.

“I hate it,” I practically growl, my face all screwed up at the thought of someone hurting Aaron. My Aaron. I hadn’t had time to get angry earlier, I’d been too worried about the wounds. Now they were clean and dressed, I have the opportunity.

“I know,” he says again.

“I want to stop it,” I tell him, then falter, “but I don’t know how.”

“I’ve been trying to work that out for a while, love,” he says, nuzzling into my collarbone.

“Just,” I pause and sigh, “please let me help you, you don’t have to hide for everyone you know.”

“It’s what I know how to do,” he murmurs, looking up, “opening up is the opposite of how I was trained to be.”

“But you’ll try?” I ask hopefully.

“I’ll do anything for you, love,” he smiles, tucking my hair behind my ear.

I smile, my cheeks glowing a soft pink.

“I love you,” he whispers with another kiss.

“I love you too,” I giggle, melting into him.

He cups my face in his hands and kisses me slowly, tenderly. The motion is long and drawn out, each millisecond testing my self control. Desperation claws at me, all I want to do is kiss him harder and faster but I stay patient. My hands find their way to the back of his neck and comfortably into his hair.

“Let’s go to bed,” he says against my lips.

“You don’t sleep until three o’clock in the morning,” I scoff.

He turns and looks at me, a twinkle in his eye and a smirk placed comfortably on his lips, “who says we’re sleeping?”

a/n: this is my first aaron warner fic and cut me some slack bc I have not read shatter me in months, I really should do another reread… but hopefully I captured the characters okay. But tbh after reading it back I kind of hate it, it feels rushed and weird but yolo so I’m posting it anyways!!

and I know what you’re thinking ‘bella you promised us the mysterious blonde part 4’… I know it is being written, it’s just really long and I want it to be perfect so there are a few little fics in between

shatter me masterlist

[clarissaweasley-10]

Warner: Look at me straight in the eyes and tell me the truth, Kishimoto. Kenji: You can’t expect me to look into your eyes and be straight.

[artstatues]

sweet boy. - a.w‎‎‎‎‎

wc : 339

pairings : aaron warner x fem!reader

synopsis : unfortunately, aaron's been extremely busy the past couple of days.

warnings : workaholic aaron, nothing much tho.

a/n : short drabble. writing mood today but had 0 ideas for the last hour or two, finally came up with this lmao

taglist : @never-enough-novels @reminiscentreader @kozumesphone @lxvebelle @shuhuaspookie

@off-to-the-r4ces @starrynightsxo @flowers-for-em

you sat on the office couch, eyes directed at your too focused boyfriend rather than the book in your hands. you loved aaron, you really did, but he’s been awfully busy for the last few days, too busy to give you any attention. only short good mornings, or good nights. he’d be gone when you woke up, and absent when you went to bed. you were sure he’s absolutely exhausted. the bags under his eyes becoming more prominent day by day. only did he look up from his laptop screen, or his papers say “oh, hello love,” or something like that.

you understood him. you knew he wanted to rave about how much he loved you, you knew how he wanted to lay in your lap and watched as you went on about your day. yet, he couldn’t. he has a full time job as the supreme commander. oh how you missed your aaron.

every time you’ve called him over to take a break, he’d simply say “5 more minutes love, i promise.” but did he fulfill those promises? no. just sweet nothings. 

“love?” he called.

“yes aaron?” you smiled down at him, staring at you from your lap.

“how was your day?” he inquired, causing you to put your book down.

“so-.....”

“aaron?” you tried, looking up from your book, some form of despair in your eyes, and your tone. “yes, love?” he looked up from his screen. you’re sure that was the first time he made full eye contact with you in the last 7 hours. you've been on this couch for 3. it’s 10.36 pm. “c’mere?” you patted your lap. his eyes looked dead, his eye bags only slightly covered by the frame of his working glasses. he unexpectedly got up and walked closer towards you. soon enough, he found peace on your lap, laying down sideways, staring at god knows what. you gently ran your hands into his hair, playing with a few strands. “oh my sweet boy.” you hummed.

how you’ve missed this…

[your-mommy-ems]

Juliette: I hate Warner so much. He's such an awful monster, I want to kill him, I can't believe I missed his heart, I should have--

Warner: *pets dog*

Juliette: Shit.

[jamespottersdaisy]

best Aaron Warner/Shatter Me fanart I've seen and I'm not joking. I screamed when I saw Aaron HSKDJSJXKSKZKSJSKZKS

Instagram : palinlineart

tiktok: palinline

[bookishpedia]

*Kenji and Juliette sneaking inside the house at 4am*

Nazeera: *sitting on the sofa* Where were you?

Kenji: We were helping Aaron.

Aaron: *turns on the light* Try again.

[mostly-delusional]

Warner: what are you, 5?

Kenji: *snorts* yeah, 5 inches taller than you

Warner:

Kenji:

Kenji: I'm sorry please don't kill me

[desikanya]

Therapy is expensive, daydreaming about fictional characters is not.

[veri-xo]

i’ll be the love of your life - aaron warner x reader

wc: 311 (yes it’s criminally tiny but i wrote this in like 10 minutes bear with me)

summary: inside your head, after your break up, you still have dreams where you’re still together. little do you know, aaron does too.

pairings: aaron warner x reader

warnings: angst, post-break up depression (ish), pining, some swearing, light sexual content (innuendos and referenced wet dreams, nothing actually happens)

tag list: @mp-littlebit @his-littlefox @pockyyasii @kaffeeine @f4iry-bell

@jamcarven @clarissaweasley-10 @benny1989fredd @123letsgobestie @tornqdowarnings (been a minute since I posted anything here, lmk if you don’t wanna be tagged anymore)

READER

You wake up panting.

Your dream had been rather interesting to say the least.

Ever since your break up with Aaron, every once in a while you would dream of him. It was stupid. You hadn’t seen him in months yet you still couldn’t get over him.

The dreams had a wide range. In some, it was the day of your break up. Others it was some of you favorite memories with him.

Others were more…scandalous.

Just like this last one. Cursing yourself, you get up to head to the bathroom for a very cold shower. This was your third one this week. It was Tuesday.

You didn’t know why you were having such frequent dreams of him. You shouldn’t even have been thinking of him! Yet here you were again, waking up hours before your alarm to take a cold fucking shower.

You wonder whether or not he still thinks of you…

AARON

Aaron did think of you. A lot. And not always innocently.

He woke up quite early. Earlier than usual, which meant early that could be considered late. His dream had been very…realistic. He could still feel your skin against his, hear your quiet moans, taste your—

No. He had to stop thinking of you. The two of you were finished. Done. End of story. He got up, sighing, and headed to the bathroom for a cold shower. God knows he needed it.

He looks in the mirror, running a hand through his hair. His phone was on the counter. He still had your number saved…

Before he could talk himself out of it, Aaron picked up his phone and went to your contact. His finger hovered over the call button, unsure whether or not he should proceed. It was an ungodly hour. You were most likely asleep…

Fuck it.

Aaron pressed call listening to the ringing. He had fully expected it to go to voicema—

“Aaron?”

“Hi, love.”

[percabeths-blue-cookies]

Aaron mf Warner: Lift your hips for me love

Me (a straight female) : *slams book close* *kicks my legs in the air* *giggles uncontrollably* *contemplates life choices* *squeels like a teenage girl* *realizes that he isn’t real* *cries because no one is as good as Aaron mf warner*

[i-only-see-daylight]

Aaron: Juliette is playing hard to get. 

Aaron: Little does she know, I'm a master at playing hard to get rid of.

[highladyofterrasen7]

Kenji after seeing the juliette x Adam x Warner mess

[ant-thebooknerd]

Nazeera: I feel like doing something stupid.

Kenji: I’m stupid, do me.

[your-mommy-ems]

Kenji: Which country has the most birds?

Kenji: Portu-geese!

Nazeera: That's a language.

Kenji: Portu-gull?

Nazeera: Good recovery.

Juliette: I think you mean good re-dovery.

Aaron: TURKEY. HOW DID YOU MISS TURKEY?