Best Jason Masks Novels & Stories

I lowered my voice, glaring at them until they scurried away. "Aria is different," I insisted. "She’s sophisticated. She’s international. She’s not going to fall for your... rough charm." "You mean my lack of a manicure?" Jason laughed, inspecting his scarred knuckles. "You’d be surprised, little brother. Sometimes, women get tired of the polished suits. Sometimes, they want a little grit." He stepped around me. "I’m going in," Jason announced. "Jason—" "Relax," he interrupted, holding up a hand. "I’m just going to say hello. I want to see if she’s real. From here, she looks like a CGI effect."

Peyton, what the hell? Stop already. You promised to forget them, remember? “You good?“ Jason's face is inches from mine, the frown ceasing on his brow. I shift back, offering a pathetic smile. "I'm fine," I say, wrapping my hands around the mug. "So, this is the non-burnt rubber special?" "The Vanilla Bean Latte," Jason declares proudly. "Best in the area. Or at least the best on this block." He takes a sip, getting a little foam on his upper lip. He doesn't notice.

However, when he thought of the fact that Ryder had made this, especially for him, his heart softened, and the dissatisfaction vanished immediately. While Ryder put on the coat and boots, Jake fixed the mask on his face. The mask resembled a ball's mask. It was black with delicate ornaments made of clay and painted with golden paint. The mask covered most of the upper half of Jake's face, including half of his cheeks, but his jaw and lips were out in plain sight. Ryder had spent a lot of time on the internet searching for masks to find the right model, so it wouldn't be inconvenient for breathing and speaking, but she couldn't deny that this model was also chosen for other selfish reasons. W

Me and my Mom apologised. "It's fine," Jason smiled, but Jasmine was so busy hugging her dad that we didn't get any response. "How are you baby? Are you okay? Did they hurt you?" I asked crouching in front of him and turning him around gently so I could take a proper look at him. Jason put his hands on my shoulder and heaved a breath, I am fine, Mommy. Jasmine is, too. The men in masks were scary-looking, but they didn't do anything to us. They gave us toys." My eyes crinkled in disbelief and I shifted my gaze from Jason to Mom.

His massive frame leaned backwards into the deep leather chair, his claws retrieving a flint stone to ignite a thick herbal smoke-stick. “Allow my intellect a brief window to evaluate the parameters.” Jason’s jaw muscles tightened into a hard line. Despite the lethal nature of his calculations, the surface of his face remained entirely smooth, projecting a harmless mask. At this exact heartbeat, however, his expression morphed into something highly insidious despite the artificial softness of his skin. His eyes were completely calm yet menacing at the same time. Within Paige Collins’s long-term memory, Jason had routinely operated as the most excellent, respectable child occupying the Miller

one of the girls remarked, her smile visible despite her mask. "No longer a miss, but... Mrs. Harding." My heart skipped at Jason's voice. I turned to find him leaning against the doorframe, watching me with undisguised admiration. He wore a luxurious black suit over a crisp white shirt and his hair was combed back smoothly. My smile widened at the sight of him. "Sorry, sir," the makeup artist interjected politely, holding up her phone. "Mrs. Harding, may I take a picture of you?" "Sure, you're welcome!" I nodded quickly, trying to contain my nerves.

"You’ll be the most stylish spy out there." "And you, Mom!" Jason faced me, offering a broad-brimmed hat and a set of cat-eye sunglasses. “You have the potential to be the fashionable one!” I chuckled, putting them on. “What about Ethan?” Jason ran to another rack, pulling out a fake mustache and handing it to him. Ethan raised an eyebrow but put it on without complaint, his grin hidden beneath the absurdly large mustache. “Perfect,” Jason said, laughing. Ethan turned to me, his eyes crinkling with amusement. “How do I look?”

But then… he tilted his head and said— “Pick up your mask, madam. Why are you looking like someone caught you with your hand in the cookie jar?” I blinked. “What?” I croaked. Jason leaned back, completely nonchalant, flipping through a file like my face wasn’t currently exposed and melting from anxiety. “You’re acting like that mask was holding your whole life together. It just fell. Isn’t it just a mask fall? Why are you exaggerating it? And it’s taking you a lot of time to pick it up.” Just fell? JUST FELL? No way he didn’t recognize me. He didn’t recognize the face that rode him just two days ago in a hotel—making him call her “mama,” I think to myself.

she asked with a surprised look. I tried to hide the fact that I was envious of her relationship with Jason. "So you were the one in the mask at the arena?" she said in a realized tone. "Yes," I answered, slightly offended that she couldn't recognize me just because I had a mask on. "Where is Jason now?" she asked after some time. "There had to be just one winner, and that is what he agreed on. "So he is dead," I said, looking at her as if to see if she felt sad by the news of Jason's death, but her face was giving nothing away.

Mason turned back towards the door. "Please!" Jason yelled, trying desprately to break free from the restraints that were holding him back. "Was any of it real?" Mason asked, still with his back to Jason as his eyes welled with tears. "Yes, of course it was Mase. I love you!" Jason desprate cried.