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It was the same stuff day in day out. This house had nothing exciting. Then again, it was better than the alternative, going out to the real world to interact with ideots out there, nah he didn't think so.
Wind spent the majority of his time hauled up in his room on the third floor. It wasn't that he disliked the company of the others, more that he disliked the company of most people. Well in the flesh at least. Behind the autonomy of the computer screen, however, was a completely different story. With that, he had no problem whatsoever. He lived to interact in a condescending and patronizing manner with his twitch chat, the rush of superiority it gave him. Degrading them, humiliating them, calling them out, as his thousands of followers watched him play games for their entertainment. He read through their comments and called them out one faceless user name at a time. And they still came back for more. Coming back stream after stream just on the off chance the how would make a comment directed at them in particular.
Yes, you, Faceless user 42069. Pathetic.
He was tired of it, he had been tired of it for a while now. He couldn't pinpoint what had been making him so prickly and bitter lately but it was getting harder and harder for him to ignore it. He lay in his bed phone held aloft over his face as he posted tweets asking followers to voice opinions on next week's streams. Scrolling through what challenges or content other streamers or creators were doing so he had an idea of the competition. And making a vein token attempt at falling asleep. maybe he was stressed, maybe he was lonely. Sleep wasn't gonna come easily though. He had been trying for the better part of an hour to try, he rolled onto his other side facing the wall and swapping apps, scrolling through photo after photo on Instagram. He sighed. Dull. Until his phone pinged a notification.
Generic Streamer Name-XD is live.
Well if he wasn't going to get any sleep he might as well sit on his computer and watch someone else stream. He got out of bed moving with zero enthusiasm over to the computer. It was never really turned off all he had to do was move his mouse and let the screen flash to life. Dropping himself into his gaming chair and opened the appropriate browser tab following the message notification to the streamer. She was playing XXXX, nothing amazingly exciting or difficult, but she was funny with her commentary and her scathing comments and response to haters kept him interested. She was one of the few streamers that he could stomach to watch for the enjoyment of the craft, and not with a critical eye on their content playing or modding skill. He sat silently lurking not saying anything despite his VIP status in her chat.
She played late into the night and Wind must have watched for at least 2 hours before, he found his mind half drifting in and out of sleep on his chair. The sort of sleep that can only be brought about by the soft sound of someone else's voice talking in the background. Neither awake nor fully asleep he hung there in limbo staring blankly at the screen in front of him and letting his mind drift. Each comment from her lips brought a dopy smile to his dozing face. It wasn't long before he found that his hand had begun to wonder, in the half realm between sleep and wakefulness he had a much harder time keeping control of his emotions and things he would rather block out. Was he lonely, well probably but who these days are not. Was it his own fault for cutting out everyone from his life who tried to get close with, snark, venom and tomfuckery?
Well also yes but that's just the bed he had made for himself. His own movements seemed to rouse him, Was he really doing this? Again?
He at least had the decency to feel disgusted by himself for what he was doing. As he watched the palm of his hand grinding against waking semi. God he just couldn't help himself, the way she just spat insults at people, he vaguely wondered what it would be like to have that kind of attention on him, and then some. He pulled one foot up onto his chair leaving slack in his sweat pants to grip himself as he continued to tease and work himself through the fabric. Growling softly on every exhale at how utterly absurd the current situation was.
Was he even really jacking off to her? He closed his eyes and listened and it became apparent no he wasn't, anyone would do when it came to his fantasy. But he supposed her pretty face was a bonus, each of her reactions to another acrid comment about her gender or ability spiked another week grunt from him as he took a tighter grip on himself through his sweats. As he let his mind run away with himself. Each bitter scornful comment about being a weak-minded little boy who didn't know anything about the world getting him harder, as he finally bought into where his night was going. Pulling both feet onto his chair he tilted it back as he pulled himself out taking himself in hand. He cringed a bit, as he started working his fist along his length. He could never be so lost in the mood that what he was doing didn't disgust him slightly.
But the longer he worked the more he slipped into his fantasy the easier it was to leave the loathing till later. His headset slid round his neck disconnecting him from whatever topic they had moved on to discuss. It didn't matter, his mind provided a slew of base insults for him to enjoy in stereo in his own head as he closed his eyes. This was starting to get out of hand, this was the third time this week he had let himself into this sordid little self affair, and each time the insults he cooked up for himself seemed to get more and more sordid. Visuals of domineering girls in high leather boots, looking over him letting him know what a pathetic lonely entity he was only had him harder in his hand, as he worked himself to climax. Hand sticky with his own straining desire as he grit his teeth and grunted, hand squeezing just a little harder on his shaft. He had just enough wherewithal in him to at least grab a tissue from his desk before he grunted out his climax. Tossing it in the trash before shutting down his monitor in disgust.
His self-loathing would return but at least now he would be tired enough to sleep. He stalked back to his bed head only half full of vague concerns at his inability to get off to anything other than depraved derogatory comments directed at his person. He settled down phone dumped somewhere just beyond his pillow. He blamed the house. Was anyone in this house not some form of sexual deviant?