#im almost done with the jason request i got but i need to paint it

[jason-the-mommas-boy]

hello darling Narrator!! okay idc if this is a request or something for the book but,,, Jason helping his s/o with their hair/makeup,,, he’s so precious and would be so gentle when working with hair?? he might not be the best at it but he’s number one in my heart

aa!! anon, im so sorry that this took so long but I just really loved this idea and I also mixed it with one of the february prompts I had planned so that’s the main reason it took this long aaa…I hope you enjoy it though!! also bonus points for anyone who knows what the book I reference is at the end)

Jason Voorhees braids his S/O’s hair (and more)

Prompt / Summary - Sleepover!!! /  nails prompt from the 2020 February prompt list made by @ / hiddendreamer67 (yes ill be doing all of them eventually!!) 

Word Count: 6.7k

Jason can’t remember much about his childhood after all these years.

Yes, of course, he remembers his mommy, the bullies that tortured him at the camp, and the overwhelming feeling of water running down into his lungs. But the small details have completely dropped from his memory as his decaying body grew older. Though, as soon as you entered into his life and he accepted that fact, the small stuff you did would irk the forgotten things. 

You taking his measurements for example. You were going to get him a new shirt as a surprise once you learned that he absolutely adored turtlenecks, but you needed to make sure it would fit on the giant man! Jason didn’t question it, if he had to be honest, you had done weirder things. Much to his surprise, this little action had reminded him back to when he was just a kid, his mommy doing the same exact thing! She’d take his measurements, and leave a kiss on his forehead for behaving so well afterwards.

These memories often left him feeling happier. It was something positive that he could take away from when he was a child as most things were very negative. But it also meant that you just kept putting a positive impact on his life! You were such an angel in his eyes. 

A few days ago, he had another one of these moments. It was late in the evening when you arrived at Jason’s cabin, a little bit of (messy) makeup adorning your face. You had a big meeting at your job that day and felt like it was important to look better than usual so you wouldn’t leave an okay or worse impression. 

You’re a little dumbfounded when your boyfriend opens the door to let you in, he freezes up, and goes blank. He’s never seen you in makeup before! And??? If he didn’t already have a dead heart, it would have stopped beating at that very moment! You were so pretty already and now you’re even more pretty??? Oh, RIP this poor man. It seems like every other day you were giving him an entirely new reason to love you. 

But it also reminded him of when he was younger. His mommy would let him put makeup on her face if he wished to do so after a particularly long day at camp. He’d grab a washcloth and clean her face before placing a lot of makeup on her. He thought his mommy looked just lovely with it and it would always destress him or calm him down. 

“Jason?” Your voice called out, pulling him away from the trance you had put him in.

Right, you were still outside the cabin, waiting for him. He let you inside, taking a step to the side. A warm fire was already ready when you stepped in, the warmth inviting you to sit and relax. But even before you even thought about taking a seat on that couch, Jason stopped you and made sure you were paying attention to him for the minute. He made the heart shape with his hands and then he gestured towards your face.

It took a moment before you realized what he was trying to say. With a smile, you looked up to him. “Aww! Do you like my makeup?” 

He nodded, happy that his message came across. 

He made another notion quickly afterwards, pointing to your lips. He wasn’t sure how else to express what he wanted to do! Being mute could be extremely difficult sometimes. 

You tilted your head, giving him a confused look. “Err, wha?” 

Uh, okay. This time he tried to hold an imaginary brush up to your face and made a few strokes, as if he were painting on a canvas. Was that any better? He wasn’t exactly sure. 

Silence. Then you blink a few times, having stared at his fingers with a skeptical face. 

“You would like to do my makeup?” 

Jason nodded again, this time much more excited. He’s already shown that he just loved brushing your hair, which made sense. He didn’t have any hair of his own and probably found the action itself soothing. So it’s really no surprise to you that he’d like to do your makeup as well! Honestly, your boyfriend just loved doing stuff for you. 

You pat his arm as an idea popped into your head! “Jason! Why don’t we just have a sleepover? You can do my makeup and hair and I’ll do your nails! How’s that sound to my special boy?” 

Oh! Sure! 

You didn’t have any of your makeup with you, though. You were more than sure that Jason didn’t either. Yeah, he took everything he could find from the dead campers, but it was pretty unlikely the people here would pack lipstick in their supplies.

It seemed like Jason was having the same thoughts as you. He was also a little disappointed that he wouldn’t be able to do your makeup tonight, but he was still just as happy to have you here, in his home, and hopefully, be in his arms soon. 

You bite your lip. “Don’t worry I’ll bring everything we need, okay?” You got an understanding nod in response. Okay, cool! 

Oh, but a sleepover??? The masked killer can’t remember if he ever had a sleepover before. Probably not. He never recalled having any friends back at camp besides his mommy, but she was always busy with her job as the cook most of the time. 

You’ve also never stayed the night before! There were so many new experiences you were providing him! 

“Is this weekend okay with you? That way I can come by early perrrhaps? I don’t want you to put makeup on me just to take it off before we sleep.” 

He shook his head as if to say, Oh, absolutely not, there could be campers out there to hurt you-

You bit your lip and tugged at his sleeve. “Pleeease? Take a few hours off that routine for me? I’m sure there’ll be no teenagers running about.” 

Oh, what was he thinking? He couldn’t say no to you. As long as you were spending all that time with him, it was okay. More time spent with you, the better, he guessed. With a nod, he pressed his mask against your forehead, mocking a kiss.

With the plan made, all there was needed to do was wait on Jason’s part. Which he already continuously struggled with on a daily basis. Yes, he had patience for the kill, but he did not have patience to wait for you! 

Well, Jason assumed that if you were going to stay the night, you would most likely want a warm place to sleep. While he had his own bedroom, it was extremely cold, no thanks to the giant hole in the roof. He also found that the tunnels underneath were also unfit, as they were cramped and filled with rats. He didn’t know your opinion on the rodents but he didn’t want to give you a scare. He considered moving the fireplace for a moment, but then realized it would be chilly in the main room instead! Were you fine with sleeping on the couch (with himself by your side)? 

The next few days would pass by, agonizingly slow in Jason’s opinion, but he wouldn’t complain. You still visited at night to hang out with him! To cuddle on the couch and let you talk about your day. He just loved having you in his arms (or be in your arms!) and just being able to enjoy your company as much as you enjoyed his. He was just too excited for his own good sometimes. 

As much as time mocked the poor boy, it also went by terrifyingly fast. The weekend was already here! The sun found itself sitting at the horizon just as Jason was making his way around the woods, reminiscing on the events of the past few nights with you. He needed to make sure there were definitely no campers at or around the camp. He just wants to enjoy his first sleepover with you and not have any disruptions! Only when he was sure that the area was free of intruders, he made his way back to his home. 

A step in and he’s already on his way to get stuff out for the sleepover. He places a stack of firewood near the fireplace, enough to last the whole night to keep you all nice and warm. Well, he thinks it’s enough, but knowing Jason, he probably overstocked.. He doesn’t have the best sense of time unfortunately. To play it safe, he also had a couple of blankets sitting on the couch so that you would not freeze to death in the middle of the night, especially since he didn’t provide any body heat. Oh, and pillows, of course. Your comfort was his top priority. 

Did you need food? You never really ate when you visited before…maybe you would at least need something to eat in the morning. But if you were to even mention being hungry before then, he would leap at the opportunity to do something for you. His chest always seemed to get fuzzy when you praised him and he genuinely liked that feeling. It was a drive to do more things for you, though he would have done anything for you even if he didn’t. Your happiness was the goal that he set to achieve every time you step foot on his grounds. 

Just as he sets extra pillows down on the couch, he hears the ring of the bells chime in a familiar pattern from down below. Loud enough for him to hear, but quiet enough for no one else to pick up on it unless they were paying attention. It was your way of communicating that you were almost to the cabin for a visit. 

Oh, he was excited. There was no use in hiding that. He just loved it whenever you came by, no matter if it was almost a nightly basis. It was the idea that you were sleeping over that really excited him. There was the aspect of being able to do your makeup and hair as well. The detail that you wanted to take care of his nails didn’t slip by him either, but he wasn’t sure on what that really meant. 

He lifts his hands up so they’re in his eye view, turning them so he could look at his fingernails. Was there something wrong with his nails? He didn’t think so, maybe they were just too long? Jason wasn’t really that caught up in how much self-care was deemed acceptable in society, he just didn’t care, but maybe he should be taking care of himself better. He did have a significant other to impress now. 

He shrugs the thought off, leaning down on one knee to toss some logs into the fireplace. The lack of self cleanliness didn’t seem to bother you from what he could tell. Yeah, he had the decency to let you wash his clothes every now and then or stand out in the rain in attempt to wash off the dirt and blood on his jacket and jeans (much to your dismay), but he didn’t do much other than that. 

With newspaper and wood in the fireplace, it was set for a fire, to which he eagerly started. He has no need to stay warm, he didn’t get sick or anything alike, and didn’t even mind the cold, but the heat that the fire provided was a reminder of you. Not just because he only set the fire just for you when you were about to arrive, but also because it reminded him of your warmth, the body heat that you radiated. You were just so warm compared to him, which was no surprise as he was a walking corpse and you were a living human being. 

The fire itself finally roars to life, flames intertwining with one another as he stands back up. A smile found itself on his lips, it was genuinely a funny thought that you were perfectly okay with dating someone that was like a zombie, even as going far as cuddling and kissing him. He was a murderer too but you seemed to be okay with this fact too after a while. It was understood that he wanted to be left alone on his land and wanted no guests, with you as the odd exception to this rule. You weren’t afraid of who he was, not even slightly disgusted, and with this fact, his undead heart overflowed with emotion in his chest. 

Jason was unknowingly poking at the fire with a stick, struck with this sense of boredom while still being excited for your arrival. He didn’t know how to explain it, maybe it was just a side effect of impatience when something he was waiting for was so close. He runs his tongue over his teeth, trying to understand this new emotion to the best of his abilities. This wasn’t the first time that you, whether you meant it or not, caused him to feel something entirely new. 

It seems like all you did was provide new. New emotions, experiences, memories, desires, and a lot of many other things he couldn’t put his finger on. It was all new to him, as most of his years were spent feeling anger and remorse, killing anyone who dared to step on the campgrounds. He wasn’t the way he was now though, only shaped by the world, your kindness and childhood memories he would find along the way. He’d been a blank slate with a few morals already set in place, a curious young boy eager to learn given the opportunity. 

A gentle knock kicks him out from his thinking, dragging his attention away from the fire to the door. 

You were here!

Dropping his poking stick, he scrambles to the door to open it. With a motion, the door was opened and boom, you were there! The ever-so adorable you was standing at his doorstep, a backpack scooped up in your arms, and a smile on your face. You were practically a beam of sunshine in his dark little corner of the world at this very moment. 

“Hey!” You greet, moving the bag in your arms so you could wave at the masked killer of Camp Blood. 

He waves back before plucking the backpack from you with ease and moving aside so you could enter. You were a guest in his home and Jason was not going to allow you to do any physical labor, even if it wasn’t a big deal for you. The bag itself wasn’t even that heavy, and probably felt like a feather in Jason’s hand, but your boyfriend didn’t care.

You roll your eyes playfully and walk inside, making sure to close the door behind you as well. “Why, thank you, Jason.” 

The way he perks up at your praise does not go unnoticed, the smile behind his hockey mask completely evident. He nods in response, shrugging in the process as to say that it wasn’t a big deal.

A gentle hand sets on your shoulder as he leads you to the couch, to where the warm fire and blankets were. He was no stranger to the cold outside, even if it was early enough for the sun to be out. You oblige (there was no use in fighting with your boyfriend on this, was there?) and set yourself on the old cushions. 

You take a folded blanket off the stack of squares and smile, more to yourself. Jason didn’t need to go out of his way to find his stash of blankets, as experience reminds you that he had to go searching for one for a little bit the first time you complained that you were cold. Maybe it really did get that chilly at night here. 

Unfolding the blanket as the gentle giant beside you took his own seat, you sit up and place a kiss on the lower part of Jason’s hockey mask. “Mmm, thank you.” And, to make sure he understood, you rest the blanket on both of your laps. 

It seems that no matter how many times you show him physical affection, he’ll never really get used to it. It’s alien to him no matter what, as it always got him to freeze up and take a few moments to unwind the growing flustered feelings. Even if the kiss wasn’t directly skin-to-skin contact, the act itself always made the poor boy feel overwhelmed if he wasn’t prepared for it or the one initiating the affection first. 

With a slow nod, Jason leans down to return the favor with a mock kiss on the forehead. His mask wasn’t exactly the most pleasant thing to feel, the fiberglass was always cold to the touch. This was more than likely due to the body heat your boyfriend seems to never produce. It was also a bit rough, with all the cuts from the use over the years. 

The masked killer sitting by your side gently taps your shoulder with two fingers to gain your attention before it could drift away, lifting your backpack into his lap and tilting his head as if to say What is this for? 

You giggle, finding his curiosity cute. “It’s my things for the sleepover.” 

He tilts his head the other way. Surely you did not have that much makeup just lying around. 

“It isn’t just the stuff I said I would bring silly.” 

Oh?

Taking the bag from his grasp, you pull the longest zipper open to reveal clothes and a few toiletries. You grab a shirt as an example to show him. “I brought things like pajamas to wear tonight and clothes to change into tomorrow. My toothbrush, toothpaste, lotion, and all that stuff.” 

Ah. So there was more to taking care of yourself than just keeping your clothes clean. Jason nods, understanding. Of course you would bring other things to make sure you kept clean. 

You place the piece of clothing back into the backpack and reach further in to locate and pull out a hairbrush. You eye the object for a moment before looking back up to your expectant boyfriend. “You wanted to brush my hair, right?” 

He nods again with a child-like glee in his eyes, he just adored brushing your hair. 

Instead of simply handing the brush over, you point to his hands. “You know the drill, Silly. Your hands must be clean before you can touch my hair.” 

With a glance towards where you had pointed, Jason realizes that his hands are grimey and covered in dirt. While it was true that his hands weren’t dirty enough to leave marks on anything, it still would be the best route to clean his hands before touching your hair. He didn’t want to ruin your pretty hair! 

The cabin he resided in no longer had running water as the years passed by, and while Jason could do many things, he didn’t know how to make the sink work again. To make up for that, he keeps water bottles he’s stolen from campers and the few you got him in his (no longer working) fridge. He really didn’t need water, his body didn’t require it to function properly, and only really kept the water to wash his hands and other things if he needed to. 

So, he was stuck washing his hands awkwardly in the sink that didn’t work with some soap bar he found most of the time. And that’s what he’s planning to do as he pushed the blanket off his lap to the side and stood up. Well, before you tugged at the sleeve of his jacket. 

When he looks down to you, you smile and tilt your head, an action Jason would have done if he had a question. “Can I wash your hands? I need to scrub those nails.” You pause, seeing the confusion in his eyes. “For the nail polish and stuff.” Another awkward pause, was he waiting for something? “Just uh, fill a bowl with water and bring it over here with the soap, okay?” 

The masked killer stood there for a moment before nodding, agreeing to your request. He leans down to pat your head and continues to make his way toward the decaying kitchen to grab what he needed. He could practically feel his heart flutter in his chest, almost questioning if it would leap out and start running all over the place. One of his favorite things in the world was having your tiny hands in his. It didn’t matter if your hands were actually tiny compared to another normal human’s, they were tiny in his hands! It genuinely made him feel like his heart was melting. 

Wait. Did he have any bowls in the cabin? He should, right? It seems like such a silly question to ask himself, but he never really looked into the kitchen. He didn’t need food or water and he was perfectly okay with using his mother’s machete as a murder weapon, so there was no use in searching the kitchen for stuff he simply didn’t need. And when did he ever recall the use of a bowl? 

He takes a step into the kitchen, somewhat hesitant and suddenly feeling lost in his own home. The bowls would be in the cabinet if his memory served him right. With one swift movement, he finds himself standing at multiple cabinets connected to the wall. Pulling at the tiny knob, there’s a relief flooding through him when he does find the bowls sitting there right in front of him. 

They were a little dusty and a little cracked from age, but that’s okay. He eyes them and picks out one that looks like it was the least likely to spill anything. They weren’t very big, probably couldn’t even fit one of his hands in it, but it was better than having to head down into the tunnels and go scavenge for some doggy dish.

Satisfied, he closes the cabinet and grabs the other two items he needs to be able to complete his little quest and sit back down with you. 

His little feet stomps were enough to tell you that Jason was walking back and by the time you were going to turn your head around to greet him again, he was sitting back down on the couch. Ah, right. Mister long legs. 

You lend your hand out, a way of asking for the bowl that he had in his grasp, to which he complied. “Thank you again.” You smile at him, gently squeezing his hand before taking the bowl, which was holding the water bottle and an unopened bar of soap. 

You move the objects out of the dish, quickly filling it with the water instead with the help of Jason steadying the bowl in his hands so it wouldn’t spill over. You balance it in a safe spot between the two of you, getting the man before you to wet his hands as you take the bar of soap out of the box. 

Wetting the soap just after Jason moves himself out of your way, you gesture for him to give you one of his hands and set to gently scrubbing at his palm. He was perfectly capable of washing his own hands, but it was going to be easier if it was you picking at the dirt in his nails. Also, his hands were nice, there was no denying that. 

You look up, making an attempt to keep the silence sitting in the air at bay. “Have you ever had your nails painted before?” 

He shakes his head. An obvious answer to you now when you consider that the poor boy didn’t have any friends when he was younger. 

Feeling a bit of guilt boil in your gut, you bite your lip and try to keep the conversation positive in case any unwanted memories found their way to Jason. “Well, I don’t have many colors to choose from, but you’re free to choose what you want. We can do different colors if you’d like.” 

Jason nods to this, the proposal more than agreeable. Honestly, he was just happy to have an excuse to feel your fingers on his. It left the tips of his ears feeling tingly, a very pleasant buzz that probably would have left a blush on his cheeks. 

“Just, uh, don’t touch anything after I paint your nails! They’re gonna need to dry off.” It was a reminder that needed to be set. If someone hadn’t told you to not go touch crazy when you were younger, nail polish would have gotten on everything. But Jason gives another nod, understanding.

Okay, next hand. You pat his other arm as you let go of the one you just finished scrubbing the dirt and grime off of. And with that, you start your work. 

“How would you like to put my hair up this time? Braids? Ponytail? Bun?” You grab his attention with a smile and wait for his answer. 

It takes him a moment before he raises his recently cleaned hand up with one index finger up, indicating the first option you listed. “Braids, huh?” 

He nods, confirming his answer to you. 

“Okay!” You squeeze his hand, giggling somewhat. The first time he tried to put your hair up in braids was a little more than just messy, but it was fun for you both in the process and in the end result. 

The water in the bowl was a little more than dirty by the time you give back Jason’s hand, leaving both of them cleaner than before. You drop the bar of soap back into its box and set it and the dish on the floor to move it out of the way. 

Jason is wondering if he should wipe his hands off on his dirty pants or not, and settles for very carefully drying them off on his shirt. He didn’t want to erase the effort you put into scrubbing his palms but he also didn’t want to make your hair wet. You offer him your hairbrush for him to take, and with nothing in the way between you two, you scoot in closer to his lap and turn around. 

It only takes a few moments until you feel a very light trace of fingers running around your hairline. At this point, it feels like you are never going to get used to how gentle your boyfriend is around you when you know how much strength he can put out at will. It draws a shudder out of you as he drags his fingers through your hair and you easily relax into his touch. 

It didn’t matter if your hair was a mess, greasy, tangled up, or just plain gross, Jason loved it. For someone to trust him enough to be able to be this close and touch something such as their hair without a care in the world reminds him of what he so dearly needed. Human contact, bonding, something he very much lacked in his childhood with others around his age. Sure, there were other activities, but brushing your hair was his favorite. There was something so satisfying about it to him. Was it the brushing out the tangles, playing with something so soft with his fingers as he styles it to his liking, or just having you so close to him that he could straddle you in his grasp and smell you? It was a mix of all of them, he guesses. 

And with a silent breath, Jason runs the brush through your hair. 

There weren’t many tangles, he finds out. Which, in his book, was good. He didn’t know if you had a sensitive scalp or not, and the last thing he wanted was to see you in tears because he pulled at a tangle too harshly. You always seemed to be fine when he brushed your hair, but he could never be too sure. 

Otherwise, he was enjoying himself, especially when he finally brushes out all the little tangles, leaving him to brush your hair mindlessly. You didn’t complain about this, it felt nice to feel the brush move gently around your scalp with no real intention. This was nice.

Jason sets the brush down on his thigh and moves his fingers back through your hair, relishing in how nice it was. He separates it into three parts, trying to make them all equal as best as he could. If he had to be honest with himself, he wasn’t the best at braiding. His hands were awkwardly too large in some instances and the braid itself was always too loose to hold for very long. He liked doing it though, practice makes perfect after all. 

He starts the braiding process, feeling a little lost as he did so. It felt a little confusing just because he’d forget which part to move, even if it was making itself clear as day to him. 

He leans down to rest his chin on your head once he gets close to finishing the braid. It was a little out of nowhere for you, but it was enjoyable nevertheless. He moves a free hand to run down to your arm from your shoulder, patting at your skin along the way with two fingers. Was he trying to grab your attention? 

Just in case, you turn your head to the best of your abilities without disrupting his little resting spot on your scalp. “Hm?” 

He tugs at the bottom of your braid with care, inferring something, to which he hopes that you’ll get what he was trying to say. 

Oh, oh! 

“You need a scrunchie, don’t you?” You ask, and feel Jason tap his fingers again in response. 

That was a yes by your standards, so you stretch out your leg to fetch your backpack by the straps with your foot. There was no necessary reason to get up and leave your boyfriend’s gentle grasp when he was getting himself comfortable. You lean forward just a tiny bit to grab the bag once you could reach for it and pull it into your chest. It wasn’t long before you found your tiny bag of scrunchies sitting amongst your clothes, and you take one out for the gentle giant behind you to take. 

The object leaves your hand pretty quickly, and you feel Jason sit back up to wrap it at the end of your braid to finish the look. The braid itself feels like it would fall apart at any moment, but gosh, did it feel nice to have such big hands playing around in your hair. 

You flip yourself around so you are facing Jason again, placing the bag in your lap as you opened up another zipper. You reveal its contents to him, showing him the makeup supplies that you brought. “You wanted to do my makeup, right?” 

He nods, a huff coming out from him as he brings a hand up to fix a few stray hairs near your face. With that, you can’t hide the faint blush on your cheeks. It was so unfair that this monster of a man didn’t even have to try that hard to make you a little flustered, and it was even more unfair that he usually never meant to do so!

“I already cleaned my face before I got here so…you can do whatever with what I have!” You take out a small tube of lipstick. “I don’t have many colors or a lot of anything, is that alright?” 

Of course it was! He gives another nod and digs his fingers into the pouch, peering into what items he could see. 

“Okay! Just don’t poke my eye out.” You joke, dropping the lipstick back to where you had grabbed it. A smile pulls at your lips as you hear a noise erupt from him while his shoulders give a light shake, a voiceless laugh sounding from him. 

It was only really funny to him because he would never hurt you, he knows that he has to be very gentle with humans, or, well, you. Any other human he doesn’t care if he hurts or not as long as their injury or death was justified, but if you got hurt, he doesn’t know what he would do with himself. He nods to what you say anyways, shrugging his shoulders to convey that he won’t, he doesn’t have a reason to. 

Jason pulls out a cylinder tube from your backpack, something comically small in his grasp. He uncaps it to better recognize what it was. It produced a wand with some black fuzz at the end. He was familiar with the use of it, but the name was escaping his tongue. 

You, on the other hand, knew that what he was holding was a tiny bottle of mascara. If you remember correctly, it was a sample size you had gotten from a store not even a month ago. 

He makes a tilting motion of his head and then points to you with his index finger, he wants you to do the same thing. You comprehend this and do so and close. your eyes. 

His hands are shaky and unsure, the mascara wand shaking a little bit as he applied it to your eyelashes. He had to be careful! Jason definitely did not want to accidentally rub mascara onto your skin and if he knew any better, makeup was not easy to take off. He made a few strokes before pulling away, the absence of his presence near your face told you he was finished and sitting back. 

You flutter your eyes a bit, giving your boyfriend a playful look. “Am I looking good so far?” 

Jason nods, his chest a little warmer. You always looked nice in his opinion. Even if you were trying to push against him in the rain for him to get back inside, you still somehow managed to be the most beautiful thing he’s laid his eyes on. It was just very frustrating that he didn’t know how to express that without a voice. 

“Why thank you.” 

He shrugs and puts the tiny tube of makeup back into the pouch. Amongst his search for something else to use, he found a few lipsticks, all which were varying in color and shades. He could easily name what these were, as it was his favorite thing to play around with when he was younger. 

Jason takes his time in putting up each one near your face, testing to see which one best complimented your skin color. After a moment, he seems to be happy with his second option and continues to place the rest of the cosmetics back to where they previously sat. He gestures for you to sit up and he cups your chin with his expected gentleness. 

He’s careful and considerably more steady when he applies the lipstick, obviously more confident with this item of makeup. He tries to not put on too much and not smudge any of it, but the key word is tries. His big hands are the cause of his mistake, accidentally smudging some of the color off your lips when he was pulling back and has to fight the urge to try to wipe it away

A giggle escapes you, essentially grabbing his attention away from the accident to you. It was a sign to convey that it was alright, things happen. 

The item is put back where it belongs in your bag, packing the hairbrush too, and he was a little unsure of what else to do. He didn’t have much experience in the makeup department, and within the awkwardness of his confusion, you speak up. “Are you done?” 

He’s contemplating on how to answer, still unsure himself. Jason takes a quick glance at you, a little flutter in his stomach making itself known, and nods. He almost captured the way you had looked a few days ago and he enjoys that. 

“Well, what do you think?” You ask, giving him a smile. 

Despite his mistake still prominent, you still look really pretty! He forms a little heart with his hands to tell you his thoughts, his lips forming a smile behind the mask. 

You reach up to squeeze his wrist and give a half-suppressed laugh. “Awwe, always the gentleman.” Pride fills his chest and he pats your arm before pushing the backpack back towards you. 

You scavenge through the bag’s pouch and pull out a few bottles of nail polish, one that is filled with a clear liquid while the others are of different colors. You present the ones with color to Jason in your palms, offering them to him. “Pick a color!” 

Your masked boyfriend hesitates, viewing his options before plucking one of the bottles from your grasp. 

“Yellow? Okay.” You nod, putting the rest of the colors back in their little pouch and moving your backpack to the floor. You pause, tapping the yellow nail polish. “Yellow’s your favorite color, huh?”

It was obvious, kind of. He had shown you a lot of attention in thanks when you had given him a yellow turtleneck sweater not too long ago. His bedroom had a lot of yellow knickknacks and his tiny garden he started with you were mostly filled with yellow flowers.

With no surprise, Jason nods. He made it no secret, he very much enjoys the color. If anything, it was a reminder of you to have when you’re gone. Yellow is a very vibrant color that he associates with happiness and he considers you his little patch of sunshine! You definitely made his life way better the moment you walked into it and stood your ground. It only made sense, right?

You give a dip of your head and gesture for him to give you his hands. “Before we can paint your nails, we have to put on this clear coat so it lasts longer. Is that okay?”

He confirms his consent and you hunch over, starting to administer the clear coat onto his nails with the small brush. Nail polish is colder than what the masked killer assumed and shudders out of surprise. You take the yellow nail polish and start applying it to every other fingernail, cleaning up any mistakes you make with your sleeve. Jason was staying very still as you worked, not even flexing his fingers like you would have in an impatient hurry. It’s appreciated that’s for sure. 

The varnish is quick to dry just as you finish applying the pink, though still wet enough to be easily ruined. You put the color off to the side and sit up, giving Jason a better view at the nails you had painted so far. “Do you like?” 

Yellow looks nice on him, Jason thinks. He likes it and he has to bite back on the desire to hug you to better show you his appreciation, but finds an alternative. Jason leans down and presses his hockey mask against your forehead. This was nice. 

You sit up and plant a kiss against his cheek in return, leaving a lipstick kiss mark in the spot. You can’t tell if Jason acknowledges this fact, but it just makes him look so much softer and cuter. Now, if he were wearing his sweater you got him, he’d be the definition of adorable.

You speak up and tug at your backpack, “I, uh, have a book in my backpack if you want me to read it to you…? You told me that your mom used to read stories to you so I thought you’d like me to read to you?” 

He was this close to hugging you right now, oh gosh. You were so attentive to what he was always trying to say in actions. He nods his head excitedly, watching you peak through your bag one last time for the evening to pull out a black book. 

“Get comfy.” You tease, adjusting your position to turn around and sit in his lap. He follows your instructions, hunching down to rest his head on your shoulders to not only see the cover better, but to nuzzle into your cheek. 

You lick your lips and open the book. “The monster showed up just after midnight. As they do…“