#kenji and warner

[yourartmatters-itswhatgotmehere]

i want KamranHazan / HazanKamran!!

5 books(?), 3 already out, and i see what Tahereh might wanna do with Kamran next BUT for the love of GOOOD, i love KamranHazan i ship HazanKamran so deeply, my favorite part of the series is the two of them talking.

I want that.

TWK series quotes here-WHOLE LOOONG POST BTW:

NOW back to KamranHazan because i simply NEED more of them.

♥♥.

[queenofheartsdeservedbetter]

TAHEREY MAFI ANNOUNCED A NEW BOOK IN THE SHATTER ME SERIES, AND IT'S CALLED "WATCH ME" !!!!!

WE HAVE A NEW BABY IN THE FAMILY !!!!!!

[rbfannee]

please please please can we talk about how artoffrostandflame has literally THE BEST fanarts for EVERY fandom couple there is??????

like, each and every one of them makes me weak in the knees, especially the one with warner snd juliette at the top bc MR WARNER THAT HAND PLACEMEENTTTTT IS INSANSEEEE🫠 🥵

[definitelynotisabel]

wtf do people without fandoms do with their life? like actually what do you do when you don’t have something to dangerously obsess over. the last time i wasn’t a part of a fandom was in fourth grade.

[shattermelyhfmlblog]

@warneraaronanderson @warnerslove

[iliarareadssss]

Therapy is expensive, Daydreaming about fictional characters is not.

[luardraws]

Juliette Ferrars & Aaron Warner 🕊️

[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

[sophiesonlinediary]

bitches be like: he’s my comfort character

and it’s just a fictional guy in his 20’s with unresolved trauma

[highladyofterrasen7]

Juliette: you came

Warner: you called

Nazeera: you came

Kenji: that’s what she said

[viesglitterwings]

fictional men just do it better

[yourartmatters-itswhatgotmehere]

Wow. This is AMAZING.

https://twitter.com/ThisIsGSage23/status/1624703432731893761?s=20&t=oGgBwdDrAXAQAln4lIVLKg

https://www.instagram.com/reel/Cm7aXZOhsTy/?igshid=YmMyMTA2M2Y%3D

[queenofheartsdeservedbetter]

He exhales. "Kishimoto," he says all at once, never breaking eye contact with me.

"Present, sir"

Warner tries not to roll his eyes as he turns toward Kenji.

They are incredible ✨

[mikotosworld]

Aaron?

Yes, love?

[soulaires]

Whiskey on ice.

pairings: Aaron Warner x Fem!Reader

summary: What’s the best thing that ever happened to you and why is it (drunk) Aaron Warner?

warnings: alcohol, ooc(?) Aaron Warner, kissing, suggestive themes, fluff, and a light smut!

« words: 2.09k ┇ao3┇reblogs are appreciated! »

🪩:: voicemail ; read my other aaron warner fics here.

The phone buzzed insistently on your nightstand, waking you from your deep slumber. Groaning, you fumbled for it in the darkness, squinting at the screen.

Kenji’s name illuminated the room.

Of course, it was fucking Kenji. Damn you, Kishimoto.

“What the fuck do you want?” You mumbled, your voice thick with annoyance and sleepiness.

“Hey there, sunshine,” came Kenji's sarcastic voice through the speaker. “So sorry to interrupt your slumber, sleeping beauty.” Kenji slurred, clearly drunk.

“Kenji, it’s two in the morning,” you groaned, rubbing your eyes. “What’s going on?”

“Well, I’ve got a little situation here,” he replied, his tone strangely cryptic.

Jesus Christ.

“What kind of situation?” You asked, growing more concerned by the second.

“Aaron fucking Warner.” Kenji deadpanned.

“He's had a bit too much to drink,” Kenji explained, his voice full of amusement.

"Tell her I love her!"

You grinned when you heard Warner’s drunken voice in the background cutting kenji off. He definitely sounded as if he’d had a bit more to drink than usual.

“And he's a little... clingy and needy, to say the least.” He continued.

“Kishimoto, tell her I love her!” Your boyfriend's voice can be heard in the background.

“He says he lo—” Kenji paused, his phone shuffled loudly and your eyes narrowed at the sound. And then you heard Aaron on Kenji's phone a second later.

“My love, I love you,” Aaron said to the other line.

“I love you too, Aaron.” You replied, smiling.

“You’re the most beautiful person I have laid my eyes upon, angel. My pretty love,” Aaron continued. “You are my face of aphrodite, The human embodiment of all of my desires, my beloved.”

You felt your cheeks heat at the compliment, biting up a smile, “Oh don’t you think that’s an exaggeration—“

“No,” Aaron cut you off firmly. “It is not, it’s the truth, my love. You-you are-“

“Warner, give me back my phone, asshole!”

As you fought back a laughter, you still can hear your boyfriend’s drunk voice in the background.

“Drunk Aaron Warner?” you repeated, trying to wrap your head around the image. “I thought that was a myth.”

“Oh, it's very real,” Kenji assured you. “And I need your help to wrangle him. He won't stop talking about you, and he's insistent on seeing you.”

A smile tugged at the corners of your lips. The thought of a tipsy Aaron Warner being affectionate and flirtatious was too tempting to resist.

“I'll be right there,” you said, already throwing on some clothes and grabbing your keys.

“Okay, we will just try to make him drink water,” Kenji assured you.

“Oh my fucking god—no, Warner, you fucking tell her that! That’s too much information, man. Disgusting.”

You hear kenji rant, not entirely sure you wanted to know what drunk aaron was spewing to kenji.

“Y’all need to leave me alone to y’all’s sex life, for real.” Kenji mumbled as he turned off the call.

When you arrived at the designated meeting spot, you spotted Kenji standing by a black car. Aaron Warner was leaning against the vehicle, his normally impeccable suit rumpled and his tie hanging loose. He looked a little disheveled, but his green eyes sparkled with mischief as he caught sight of you.

“There’s my pretty baby,” Aaron slurred, pushing off the car and stumbling toward you.

You couldn't help but chuckle at his unsteady gait. "Hey, darling. Having a good time?"

Aaron grinned broadly, his trademark stoicism replaced by an endearing warmth. "The best time," he declared. "But it could be even better if you were here with me."

Kenji rolled his eyes as he strutted off to you and Aaron. "Take him home, will you? He's been driving me crazy all night." You only nodded and gave him a smile.

As you led Aaron to the car, he leaned into you, resting his head on your shoulder. "You're so pretty," he slurred.

You couldn't help but blush at his candidness. "I think you're pretty great too, Warner."

With some effort, you managed to get him into the passenger seat. He insisted on holding your hand during the entire drive, peppering your knuckles with sweet, slightly drunken kisses.

"You're amazing," he whispered, his breath warm against your skin. "I'm lucky to have you."

As the ride goes on, Aaron’s hand had traveled from your hand to your inner thigh, caressing it and making you shiver from his touch.

“Aaron! We’re on the road, hands to yourself!” You told him, pulling out his hand from your thigh.

“‘m sorry, love, can’t help myself.” He mumbled. “You just smell so good, makes me wanna…” after that, you can’t understand the incoherent words he was saying.

“uhuh,” you mused, “keep your hands to yourself for a moment, yeah?” You told him as warner only grunted in response.

When you arrived home, you helped him out of the car. He stumbled a few times, but you were there to catch him each time. Inside, you settled him on the couch, where he promptly draped himself across your lap.

"You're comfy," he mumbled, nuzzling into your thigh.

You chuckled, running your fingers through his tousled hair. "I'm glad you think so."

As you went to the kitchen to grab him some water, you felt him following you.

His hands firmly gripped your hips once more, drawing you close to him in an abrupt, passionate motion. A gasp of surprise escaped your lips as his forehead lowered to meet yours. The faint scent of alcohol lingered on his breath as he nestled his nose against yours.

"I just want to make love to you tonight, angel," he murmured, his words causing your breath to quicken. His intentions were crystal clear, and you felt your resolve waver in response to his desire.

Breathing becoming shallower, you struggled to maintain composure as he continued, his hands descending to firmly grasp your hips, pressing your body against his.

"Not— not tonight," you stammered out, fighting against the powerful pull of his closeness.

"I just want to make you feel good, my sweet girl," he whispered, his voice laced with desire. His hands slid sensuously down to your waist, pulling your hips into a slow, intoxicating dance with his.

"Want to take care of you. Always want to take care of you."

You moistened your lips, trying to regain control, all while Aaron's hips moved against yours, making it increasingly difficult to resist. You exhaled a deep breath, attempting to stay collected.

"Not tonight, baby," you whispered back, your voice trembling.

His lips lowered beside your ear, sending shivers down your spine as they brushed against your skin. "I always take care of my love," he purred, placing a lingering kiss along your neck. "Always take real good care of you, my sweet angel."

"Let me take care of you tonight, please."

"Not when you've drunk so much," you replied, your voice wavering. With great effort, you managed to step back out of his embrace, resisting the urge to grind back into him. "Let's get you to the couch. I'll get you some water."

Aaron sighed deeply, his hands halting their explorations. You guided him down the hallway towards his couch, and he plopped down onto it. You fetched a glass of water from his kitchen and handed it to him. He downed it quickly, and you set the empty cup on the coffee table.

Turning your attention back to him, you noticed his disheveled work clothes. "How about I help you get ready for bed? Does that sound good?"

A sly grin crossed Aaron's face as he replied, "That depends. What are we doing in bed?"

"Sleeping, Aaron," you asserted firmly. Bending over, you took hold of his hands and gently tugged him from the couch. "Come on."

After helping Aaron into his bed, you slipped in beside him. He immediately curled up against you, his arms enveloping your waist.

"You're incredible," he whispered, breaking the silence.

You couldn't help but snort softly and shake your head. "And you're drunk," you replied.

"No, I'm serious," he insisted. "You're so smart, kind-hearted, funny, perfect. You're... you're too good for me. Much too good for me."

A frown creased your brow as he continued, his words spilling forth in a torrent of insecurity. "And I can't help but wonder how a heart like yours could ever love a heart like mine. You deserve someone better."

"Stop that, Aaron," you warned, your voice gentle but firm.

He shook his head vigorously. "Shush. Do not worry, my love," he murmured. "I'm far too selfish to want to give you up now.

"I will keep trying to be better to deserve you, my beloved. Please remember that," he said earnestly, his gaze locked onto yours.

"Aaron..." you began, but he interrupted.

"Please don't ever get tired of me," he pleaded. You looked at him, your heart swelling with affection, and kissed his forehead.

"I won't, love. You have me until the end of the universe," you assured him.

"I love you," he declared, his eyes locking onto yours with an intensity that held your attention.

For a moment, you were captivated by the depth of emotion in his eyes, as if his "I love you" carried a significance beyond words.

"I love you too," you whispered back, feeling a warmth spread through your heart. His head tilted slightly, a softer expression on his face, his lips parting in a gentle smile.

His gaze remained fixed on you, and you sensed that his love was something profound, something that words could never truly capture.

After a moment of silence, he spoke up.

“Love?” he asked tentatively through the dark.

“Hmm?” you answered.

There was a brief moment of hesitation before he spoke.

“Will you at least kiss me?” he asked.

“Of course, pretty boy,” you replied.

You leaned in, his lips seeking yours. The kiss was passionate and filled with an intensity that made your head spin.

As the night wore on, Aaron's clinginess increased. He refused to let you go, holding your waist tightly and pulling your head into his chest. He rested his head on your hair, and maybe nuzzle your neck affectionately.

his head shifting along the pillow for a moment before you felt him brush his lips against your forehead. Your eyes closed, a smile spreading across your mouth. And then gradually you both fell asleep.

___

Bonus:

The soft glow of dawn crept into the kitchen as you tiptoed in, careful not to make too much noise. You knew Aaron had indulged in one too many drinks last night, and he'd likely be nursing a hangover this morning. Your heart swelled with affection for him as you prepared to make breakfast, wanting to take care of him in the best way you knew how.

As you quietly scrambled eggs and toasted bread, you couldn't help but smile at the thought of how your relationship with Aaron had evolved.

Just as you were about to flip the eggs, you felt a pair of strong arms encircle your waist. Aaron's chin rested on your shoulder, and he hugged you from behind, his body warm against yours.

"Morning, love," he slurred, his voice thick with sleep and the remnants of alcohol.

You chuckled softly and turned off the stove before turning in his embrace. "Morning, Aaron. Head hurts?"

"Mhm," he hummed, nuzzling your neck as if seeking comfort.

You reached up to run your fingers through his disheveled hair, a soothing gesture that seemed to help alleviate his discomfort. "Remember what I said last night?"

He pulled back slightly, his green eyes searching yours with a playful glint. "Y’know something from the kitchen."

You raised an eyebrow, trying to figure out which of his drunken declarations he was referring to. "Which one?"

He pressed a gentle kiss to your lips, a tender, lingering kiss that left you slightly breathless.

And then it clicked.

"You said you wanted to take care of me and make love, but I said no because you were drunk," you said.

A faint blush crept across your cheeks as you remembered his needy and flirtatious behavior from the night before.

Aaron smirked, a wicked glint in his gaze.

"Well, I’m not drunk now." He said, smirking.

Oh Gods.

Your heart raced as his hands roamed your waist, pulling you closer. "Aaron, your hangover—"

He silenced your protests with another heated kiss.

Authors Note:

Woohoo 🫡 here’s a short fic for y’all since I’m still finishing up

the 12k+ Aaron Warner 7 evil exes fic (only 1 and a half chapter left) 🥸 anyway, enjoy!

English is not my first language and this isn’t beta read! And also my first time writing a fic 😮‍💨

Please let me know what you think :)

[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