imagine jason obsessing over a cute bookworm with glasses he met who works at the library. you're so shy and always dressed in cute little sweaters and long skirts. you can barely meet his eye when he checks out but you're still such a sweet thing, asking if he liked the last book he checked out.
imagine jason trying to work up the courage to actually ask you out, because depsite how much of a "bad boy" he looks like, all rough muscles, scars, and loud motorcycles, he actually has very little experience with dating.
imagine him being desperate enough to ask roy for advice. he tried to do it casually, but roy still made fun of him, even if he agreed afterwards. most of his advice was half-baked at best, compliments and presents and all that, but he managed to get something from the man that was somewhat useful.
"....or, y'know, just try to meet her when she's outside work or somerhing"
imagine jason taking this to heart. it's not that hard to find out your schedule. he may not be tim, but he still knew how to track someone, and your life was pretty routine. you had a small apartment a few blocks away, you rode the public bus, you liked to go to a small hole-in-the-wall coffee shop.
all in his territory surrounding crime alley.
imagine him meeting you at the coffee shop "by chance". you looked surprised but not displeased, so jason tried talking you up. you were still such a meek thing, and jason assumed you just didn't have the courage to say no when he asked to sit at the small table you where seated at in the corner.
imagine it becoming a common thing, the two of you enjoying coffee together, disregarding how jason always seemed to know when you were there. or, at least, he never really drew attention to the fact, and you seemed content enough when he spoke about books he read instead.
imagine jason overthinking your little shared routine, wondering if it counted as a date. because, if it was a date, then wouldn't that you two were dating? and if you were dating, could he make things official? you were such the sweet type of girl, you'd probably say yes if he asked.
imagine him coming home late one night from one of these "maybe" dates, seeing that roy had raided his pantry again and left his laptop on the counter.
imagine jason rolling his eyes, mildly annoyed, when he sees the camgirl site roy had left out in the open. the screen was still up, paused and zoomed in on the lower stomach of a woman, her hand dissapearing out of view and drifting lower, her knees spread apart wide and framing the screen.
imagine jason tossing the laptop on his worn couch, accidentally hitting play when it landed.
And playing a familiar sounding voice that he heard just hours ago.
imagine jason's shock at the fact you, the mousy, bookish, glasses wearing lirbarian who could barely speak above a whisper, were a camgirl.
imagine him watching the video in shocked arousal, watching you, naked, reclined on a mountain of pillows and plushies, with your knees pulled back near your shoulders as you played with your soaking wet and trembling folds. as the camera panned up, he could see you weren't wearing your glasses, but it was obviosuly your face. it wasn't an overly obscene expression, like other camgirls likes to pull. you were just flushed, face twisting in such an honest display of pleasure as you bit your lip in that same unconcious habit he knew you had while concentrating.
imagine your eyes, foggy with pleasure, meeting the camera and, subsequently, his gaze.
imagine him scouring the site for every video it had of you. you seemed to be a new comer, having only a handful of videos, but they were gaining traction quickly. only videos of yourself, in what he assumed was your bedroom. the lighting and angles improved with each video, casting a sort of glow on your soft bare skin against the pastel colored sheets of your bed.
imagine jason having trouble looking at you the next day, after spending all night watching your videos. it wasn't that he was disgusted or ashamed, far from it. but it proved hard to look at you when he spent the better half of the night fisting his cock to you pleasuring yourself.
imagine him becoming your biggest subscriber, especially when you begin live streaming. it was a bit embarassing, the amount of money he gave you, but it was all under a screen name so you were still oblivious to the fact he had paid to see your face scrunch up in pain and pleasure as you fucked yourself with an XL dildo, soaking it to the base in your juices along with your hands.
imagine him sending you a dm on the site, asking for a private show. you hesitate at first, of course, but the money he offers isn't something to pass up so you relent. his screen is black when you start the call, and he only types his orders for you to strip, slowly, so he can see everything. jason watches as you pull of your beige turtle neck ot reveal a lacy black bra, shimmying out of your long skirt to reveal a matching thong and thigh high, sheer stockings. he tells you to stop there, he wants you to keep them on the entire time.
imagine the odd intimacy of pleasuring yourself to a blank screen, eyes peeled for his commands. all the while he slowly pumps his leaking cock on the other side.
